Things started out well in Sydney, waiting to get to New Zealand. We had one flight to Auckland, then one final short one to Nelson. We waited happily, and then, continued to wait as our flight got delayed 3 times. That was about 2 times too many, but we were hopeful that we would still make the flight to Nelson.
Oh my, was this girlie tired. Not with jet lag, but simply lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of…being in a house? She was beginning to reach the breaking point of traveling. Nothing was going right and to make matters worse, her ears began bothering her at every landing.
So we arrived in Auckland, but not soon enough. We rushed through customs and hurried as fast as we could all the way across parking lots following the green line to the domestic terminal, but alas. We missed our flight. But my ever persevering husband did not give up and burst into tears like Natasha was doing, or like his wife felt like doing. He determined taking a bus or renting a car was still not not as sensible as buying new tickets, so after doing just that, he rallied his troops with some takeaway (not “to-go” as we say) and off we went.
I think we had the last 3 seats available on this flight, and it placed Daniel with Natasha in the very back against the wall, and me a couple rows in front. While I was able to spend the 2ish hours getting to know more about New Zealand from my row companion (a gentleman who told me he works out of Auckland and has a boring job: An international pilot), Daniel struggled almost the entire flight with an very unruly and sleep-deprived, screaming and kicking 4 year old.
But we finally arrived in Nelson, New Zealand, our new home for the next three months. It was just like the movies, stepping off the plane and down the open stairs on the tarmac and meeting Nelson in the windy, dark night. I’m sure we looked a little ragged, but the pilot who I sat beside on the plane was all too kind and still offered us a ride to our new home.
(By the way, neither he, nor our landlady who greeted us, could believe what we carried was all our luggage. Can you tell I’m still a wee bit pleased about not over-packing?)
The next morning, things were looking much, much brighter.
We spent the day doing absolutely nothing but finding food for our fridge (huge matter of importance), e-mailing home, trying out the trampoline, watching the goats watch us, and enjoying the view from our deck.
The house is ideal, with little amenities that I am thrilled to have. Like, Natasha can reach the bathroom sink to wash her hands without a stool. The kitchen is well stocked, even with a muffin tin and a french press. It’s a bright sunny house, with windows everywhere, so it’s not dark at all. We have our very own washing machine and clothesline, which is *really* wonderful. (Those of you who know the story of me washing cloth diapers in Panama will understand my genuine happiness about that.) Natasha has her own room, and our landlord was kind enough to add some children’s books and stuffed animals for her to play with. There’s a “BBQ” on the deck for us to use, and of course, the previously seen trampoline. And, there’s even a full length mirror. That might seem very trivial, but it’s nice to know what you look like before dashing out the door.
I think we’re going to like it here. :)