Kiwis and Fairy Bread

5 January 2024

The long plane flights to and from New Zealand were the part of the journey I had dreaded most. In fact, when Mike first proposed this trip over a year ago, I was wary of the idea for just that reason. Visiting somewhere along the way like San Francisco or Hawaii was something we’d considered. But once we started our research, there was far too much we wanted to see and do in NZ. So I set my fears aside.

Eighteen hours in the air seems an impossibility. And yet, it is possible. And done almost every day. And in retrospect an 18 hour flight to the other side of the world wasn’t that different from a six hour flight to England. One still has to pack, get to the airport, undergo the arduous security process and wait around for a few hours at the gate. Once on the plane, the always courteous and immaculate flight attendants bring round meals and beverages two or three times. There are views out the window, is entertainment on the screen, my favorite Map Channel counts down the minutes to arrival and the rest is just sleep. Whether that sleep is 4 hours or 14 doesn’t really make much difference.

Mike and I really missed the comfort of the sky couch, but huddled together to get at least a few hours of sleep. Watched a very long sunset and a sunrise. Back up the United States east coast I was surprised at how brown it all was. Was there no rain while we were away? But I had, of course, forgotten: it is winter here!

The landing was rough. The captain had warned us about the wind. Visions of the recent Japan crash came into my mind as I held onto Mike in fear. All was well of course. And the travel gods had one last gift to give us. Another truly spectacular sunset over the runway.

Our friend Dean was kind enough to pick us up from the airport. Dean, you are a saint! JFK to NJ at rush hour is no fun. Tons of traffic of course. While calling out directions from Google Maps (back to miles again!) I gazed up the height of every building. I felt like King Kong, seeing the buildings as the tallest of green mountains. I craned my head just as I did to try and see the top of Tongiriro, of Mount Sefton, of Piopiotahi. I felt as culture shocked as the big ape.

Arriving home Ben greeted us with warm smiles and huge hugs. He’d bought us groceries, turned up the heat, fed my sour dough starter, and promptly proposed a take out dinner. We talked excitedly about parts of the trip. Started to plan our family Christmas next weekend. And then he left, knowing how tired Mike and I both were. Ben, you are, as I often say, a peach!

The time was 7:30pm. The date, the 5th of January 2024. The exact time and date that our plane took off to arrive from Auckland Airport. Time travel. That too, it seems, is real!

The air is cold and crisp. As I write this the sunset has set at just 5pm. Christmas lights will soon brighten our neighborhood throughout the night. I’d missed such things on Christmas Eve.

Our dear three bedroom split level home feels huge, as I knew it would. There are far too many steps from the kitchen to the bed. I love our bed! But of course, while falling asleep, I imagined the surrounding walls of Miranda.

I awoke at 3am, 9pm tomorrow in New Zealand. Mike logged into work this morning. A postman asked how I was today and I answered “disconcerted”. It will take time to adjust to not just the time, but to the life. Real life.

I have been fighting tears all day.

And that’s OK! “No worries” as a Kiwi would tell me. These are tears of joy at the incredible, spectacular, impossible, loving adventure Mike and I have had. And I always cry at endings. Whether it is a good book or film or a play that I have directed, anything that I put my time, energy and love into, will always bring me to tears at the end.

When speaking to Marianna about writing this blog, I was concerned that I was behind by two days, She reminded me that at home, it was still yesterday, so that I was really just one day behind. I admitted to her that mostly, I am writing for myself. I have always kept a journal. It is good to look back and remember both good times and difficult ones. To read what I was feeling, what I saw, the people I came to know for an hour or a life time. If this time, you Dear Reader are sharing it with me, well then all the better.

This is not the last post. There is still much to tell and many, many more of Mike’s photos to share. I have enjoyed taking the time each day to write. Although not surrounded by green mountains, I am currently surrounded by the bright green walls of my daughter’s former bedroom. We painted it to look like a rainforest.

And tomorrow there will be snow!

The world is an impossible place.