Crossing The Ditch
At the absurdly ungodly hour of 3:45am Ross and I were prompted by our relentless alarms to rouse from our slumber and mobilise the troops for action. Keryn, our incredibly generous (& crazy) friend, offered her selfless services to deliver us safely to the airport agreeing to pick us up at 4:15am (told you she was crazy!). When Keryn’s shadow darkened our doorstep – only figuratively obviously due to it still being basically the dead of night – we were bickering about backpacks and carrying on about carry-ons, our sleep deprivation-induced irritability getting the better of us. As Keryn astutely observed, she was definitely the most awake amongst the crew and did a wonderful job putting up with us all and getting us to our plane on time.Thanks Keryn!
Laden with winter woollies safely buckled and zipped into our bulging bags, we checked in and met up with Toby’s fellow-Bulldogs and families and moved en masse – a seething sea of black tour jackets cutting a swathe through the crowds – towards customs (via Maccas of course!).
Fortunately one of Toby’s team mates has a little sister, Chloe, the same age as Maisy and they get along like a house on fire. Flying Emirates for the first time, Maisy and Chloe were delighted to each receive their very own little backpack/showbag overflowing with all sorts of little goodies to keep them entertained on the flight. They even got a little blanket they could keep. These came in handy for snuggling up when the arctic air conditioning kicked in with its usual chilly force. I must confess, I was eyeing that blanket with considerable jealousy as I braced against the icy winds blowing down on me from above. Just why they insist on turning the plane into a fridge I’ll never know.
The boys behaved impeccably on the plane. The in-flight entertainment was sensational and the choices so plentiful that a quick glance over shoulders showed almost everyone to be watching a different movie! I started to watch a good flick but soon gave in to my weighty eyelids and bobbing head, having a much needed power nap! The trouble with a mere 3 hours in the air is that you may or may not get to see the credits roll before they efficiently collect your headphones and get you buckled up for landing.
Maisy, Chloe and I were intrigued by the A380 Airbus cameras. With three different cameras to choose from, we got to get a pilot’s eye view as we descended over snow-capped mountains, lush green tracts of land and numerous little sheep dotting the landscape! It was so exciting to watch as we closed in on the runway and touched down, the tarmac whizzing beneath us at high speed. It was awesome! All three of us squealed aloud with delight once we felt the wheels touch down and saw our plane on New Zealand soil, feeling like we were somehow a part of guiding this baby in; enthusiastic participants in some sort of “Land That Plane” video game. I wonder if the pilots feel such euphoria themselves each time they pull off a landing? I know I would.
Travelling in a pack of 40 does require a degree of patience at times. This needed to be exercised at the airport when many of the boys thought they needed another stop at McDonalds, despite it being only 10 o’clock in the morning and their third meal of the day. Hollow legs eh?
A quick chat to our coach driver revealed he had worked extensively in Australia and had definitely seen more of our fair land than most of us put together! We were in good hands. The trip to our “Holiday Park” took under an hour and we were unloaded and checked into our cosy little rooms in no time. While our modest vanpark-style accommodation may not be The Ritz, we have a heater, hot water and warm beds and that’s all we need. It’s a cute little place but strangely, we do seem to be right in the middle of suburbia.
Admittedly we haven’t had much chance to look around yet but it does feel a lot like Australia. Apart from the obvious Maori place names, everything looks and feels a lot like home. Even the powerpoints are the same! We could easily be in a Sydney suburb somewhere. You can see why Kiwis fit in so well in Australia and how we could claim Russell Crowe, Sam Neill, Split Enz and every other successful New Zealand export as our own. It almost feels like one big happy nation. We walked to the local “Countdown” supermarket which is just Woolies with an undercover name. It’s actually not that undercover as the kids pointed out, their logo is still a “W”! We’ve noticed other subtle differences like pink lamingtons, number plates with no place names and… then there’s that accent (or should I say, “eeeksunt”?).
We’re off tonight for a slap-up Chinese meal at the Chinese establishment conveniently located right next door in a building that was a Pizza Hut in a former life. It should be fun!
