It is always a welcome sight when the sun rises after nearly twenty hours on various planes in total darkness. In those long hours only the occasional brilliantly illuminated ship and then, eventually, a tiny Pacific island would send a beam of confirmation that the earth was still beneath us. The dawn began to blush past the tip of the wing. The clouds cleared except for a cluster of pink meringues seemingly swimming in the muted silvery grey of the ocean. The coast of Queensland was just beyond that cloak.
I transferred to Air New Zealand in Sydney and was off to Wellington. I guess it's strange that I always fly into Wellington instead of Auckland but I can not resist the view down the south island. First it's the stretch of the Tasman Sea crashing against the sand down the west coast. Then the mountain ranges come into view, dominated by Mount Cook, always topped with the long white clouds that Aotearoa is named for. Then we swing around over the Marlborough Sound and the rough waters of Cook Strait. The whole progression just makes me very happy.
Totally exhausted from two days without sleep I passed effortlessly through immigration and customs, though I did put 22.1.2009 as my birth date. I promised myself I would not sleep until at least 21:00 so I geared up for the windy day outside. I spent some time in Te Papa, the free national museum, but all the dark exhibits were encouraging my comatose state. After some exploration along the pier and down Cuba Street it started to rain and I went back to the hostel to read, stupidly choosing my comfy bunk instead of a common area chair.
Five hours later I woke up. This did not aid in my acclimating and resetting my internal clock.
I feel strange, in a lot of ways, to be here. It felt wrong for the first time to be leaving New England. Hopefully a plan for my future here will emerge and I will begin to feel more certain and enthuiastic. Maybe I'm just jetlagged and a dose of family time with Fritha and Rowan will do me good. On to Hastings tomorrow!