escape from new zealand - day two

[Ken Gargett]

Day Two of ‘Escape from New Zealand’. Not even Snake Pliskin could get out of this place. After Day One, you’d think the divinities would owe me something. You’d be wrong. The divinities had not finished yet.

Up at 5am (that is 2am back in Oz, so I'll be all over the place when I do get back), to return to the airport. Needless to say, the famous Yellow Bus is, shall we say, not as punctual as one would wish but it arrives. The driver, clearly one of the four horsemen, waves me in. If anyone remembers that scene in ‘Midnight Express’ where the prisoners slowly and mindlessly walk around in a circle, this was it. We are the proverbial stone’s throw from the airport but of course, the Yellow Bus must do the giant lap to collect more lost souls, and so back through the industrial estates of Orcland, we go. Burke and Wills give us a wave.

Now, no argument that New Zealand has some of the most spectacular scenery on the planet. This isn’t it. To be honest, a Kontiki tour through Gaza would hold more appeal.

But we arrive and we flee from the Bus. Check in goes surprisingly uneventfully and I get to use the Air New Zealand lounge. Have a few hours, so a bite of breakfast and then some emails. I sit at the large table for this, but what the hell? Lord spare me, I have sat in a puddle. The chairs are cleverly designed to hold whatever liquid might be split on them (why???) and some tosser has emptied a cup of apple juice onto the chair for some poor sod to wade into. That poor sod would be me.

It is about now that I realise that this is actually infinitely worse than I ever imagined. I start to think that perhaps this was not apple juice. Yes, I am sitting in a large puddle of urine. In the Air New Zealand business class lounge. Who? Why?

Not happy. Fortunately, the trousers seem to be quick drying and with a lot of rigorous rubbing in the facilities, I am fit for polite company again. Although in New Zealand, apparently polite company pisses on chairs.

Needless to say, we have an hour or two’s delay. I assume this is part of the Air New Zealand constitution. Eventually on we go (and everyone is so nice – unlike the snarling dogs of qantas). Air New Zealand have a really lovely thing where the screen at your seat says, ‘Welcome Dave’ or ‘Welcome Jane.’ Mine just says ‘Welcome 2B’. Seriously, I am not feeling the love.

Now, apparently as we were due to leave pre-9.30am (even though my boarding pass already said, ‘boarding time, 9.35’, thereby confirming that delays are company policy), we are at about 1pm when I am asked what I’d like for breakfast. A breakfast flight it was intended to be and a breakfast flight it will remain, no matter the real time. So muesli and/or chocolate waffles and/or soggy spinach frittatas. In line with my new health policy, I opt for the muesli and the soggy spinach. Which duly arrives. It was well described (okay, I may have made up the bit about it actually being described as soggy, but if the shoe fits). I then sit there while every other person gets a big fat burger. What? The divinity of the dancing wombats is still having fun at my expense.

Finally, back on Aussie soil. Surely, now things will go swimmingly. As it happens, not so much. Usually, I find Brizzy International quick and competent. They have umpteen carousels going, people going around checking your in-card to direct you, seven or eight queues for a quick departure.

Seems that today is the day they give the airport over to some TV show called ‘Catch a Stupid Smuggler’ or something. So, one carousel for every plane. Endless chaos. Staff? Either they have all taken today off knowing what a crapfest it will be, or they do not want to be filmed doing whatever it is they do. Who can blame them? You can request not to be filmed. I point out that if they film me, they’ll have to beep the whole thing out as I will happily provide my view of the entire farce. I am not filmed. What is interesting is that they apparently select the candidates for inspection on ‘Smugglers are Us’ by race. If you are Asian, then you are off to the bright lights. This strikes me as seriously racist but no one else seems to care.

Finally, the bags arrive. Now, we have a single queue that snakes around the airport. If laid out straight, it would be at least 400 metres long. And as they say in the classics, continents drift faster. I am starting to lose my usually legendary tolerance and patience. Normally, I am an inspiration for Job. Perhaps not so much today.

Finally, I emerge. Now, to save myself the $120 taxi fare home, I'll hop on the train to Roma Street and then the bus from Roma Street to home. Takes about 20-30 minutes longer but it is free (at my doddering old stage of life). And these days, $120 is a bottle of bog average Burgundy. Worst decision ever.

I need the walkway to the train, but it is under repair. No matter, I can get there by lift. A long queue. We wait. And wait. When it is finally my turn there is a lift emergency. Some woman in official gear arrives telling us not to worry and that the lift emergency will be dealt with. Don’t ask, I still don’t know. Eventually, I get to the station. Trains every 15 minutes. And judging by the crowd on the station, one must be due any moment. The divinities have lied again. The flashing sign – ‘next train, 22 minutes’. Still, a minor inconvenience given what I have gone through.

And the train arrives and gets me to Roma Street without event. Woohoo! I see signs to the bus but, given the past two days, I think it wise to ask. ‘I do trains, not buses, mate.’ Seriously? You don’t know where I should go for the bus? Someone else confirms the direction, same as the signs. I get to the platform, 8 minutes for the next bus to arrive. It will take me directly to opposite home. Fat chance.

8 minutes in the heat and humidity come and go. 18 minutes likewise. After 28 minutes, I check all the signs. Yes, all good. Here is where I am supposed to be. Eventually, I ask a bus driver what the hell is going on. Seems my bus now goes from somewhere else. They just have not got around to putting up the signs. So I get on his bus to go halfway across wherever, to get to where I can now catch the correct bus. Shall we say the Brisbane City Councilors and bureaucrats are not high on my list of people to save, come the revolution.

We get to the stop where I will finally be able to catch the final bus. And, and surely this should have been an omen, 8 minutes to the next bus. A dear old Chinese woman gets up to give me her seat. Hard to think of a lower moment (fear not, they soon followed). But something is not right here. I ask.

You guessed it, this is not the stop. I have to go 500-600 metres up the road to a different stop. So, and did I mention 35°C and a squillion percent humidity, off I run (well, a quick waddle might be more accurate), dragging all the bags. But I get there in time, sweating like Hades. I see a Council bus person and ask, just to confirm. ‘No mate. You have to go to the stop back there.’ ‘You mean the one I was at?’ ‘Yep’!

Just so not happy.

I turn and the quick, or now not so quick, waddle sets me off to the original stop. And I swear it just got a few degrees hotter. And yes, when I am about 100 metres shy of the original stop, my bus comes past. I try but in vain. My bus disappears. I'll confess that this is when I lost it. If there are indeed divinities, I might be in trouble down the track. I cursed every one of them, screamed and swore. If I could have lifted my luggage at this stage, I probably would have thrown it. I may have looked a tad unhinged to passers-by.

Not quite beaten, I trundle up to the stop. I am not making this up. A lovely old Aboriginal woman with a cane, she had to be 80, takes one look at me and gets up to give me her seat at the stop. I decline, of course, but how bad must I look?

Needless to say, the flashing sign at the stop tells me that the next bus is some 22 minutes late. Of course it is. But fear not, the one after it will be early – so they’ll both arrive around the same time. Special.

Finally home, the washing machine goes into overdrive.

There was one small moment of joy. In the mail awaiting me is a postal vote for our upcoming Brisbane City Council elections, and accompanying election junk mail for our local councilor. Imagine the chances.

[Chibearsv]

I swear, if I sat in someone’s piss, I’d lose it big time. It’d look like one of those “taser special” episodes of cops before they’d get me calmed down.  That is horrible. That would be the moment I’d be off the wagon again. Hope you enjoyed a beverage to soothe the soul when you finally got home, and chucked those pants 😳

[Ken Gargett]

3 minutes ago, Chibearsv said:

I swear, if I sat in someone’s piss, I’d lose it big time. It’d look like one of those “taser special” episodes of cops before they’d get me calmed down.  That is horrible. That would be the moment I’d be off the wagon again. Hope you enjoyed a beverage to soothe the soul when you finally got home, and chucked those pants 😳

one of those moments so truly horrible that one is in disbelief. who would do that? sadly, not enough alcohol in the world to right that.

although one of my mates did say that apparently New Zealand Tourism would not be using the phrase "rubbing in the facilities" in its next tourist campaign. 

the problem was, you look around for a culprit and it could have been anyone. 

[Glass Half Full]

1 hour ago, Ken Gargett said:

squillion

had to look that one up

 

[Kevin48438]

That fine prose was the best 10 minutes of my day.   Thanks, Ken

[Ford2112]

It's only pee.

[El Presidente]

12 hours ago, Ken Gargett said:

It is about now that I realise that this is actually infinitely worse than I ever imagined. I start to think that perhaps this was not apple juice. Yes, I am sitting in a large puddle of urine. In the Air New Zealand business class lounge. Who? Why?

Why?

 

There is a God 

[Li Bai]

What a review Ken !! 

I'm not used to the 100 point scale quotation but I've read you say somewhere that it is actually a 20 point scale, from 80 to 100.

So...How would you rate your trip back ? An 80 would seem fairly high to me 😂😂🤣

[Ken Gargett]

6 hours ago, Li Bai said:

What a review Ken !! 

I'm not used to the 100 point scale quotation but I've read you say somewhere that it is actually a 20 point scale, from 80 to 100.

So...How would you rate your trip back ? An 80 would seem fairly high to me 😂😂🤣

2/100. the 2 for the postal vote!

[Li Bai]

3 hours ago, Ken Gargett said:

2/100. the 2 for the postal vote!

Alright now that makes sense to me 🤣🤣😂

I've followed your trip on Instagram and at least I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself while you were there 👍

I would have second thoughts about ever going back there in the future if I had been through all this 😅😅

[Dr Process]

Ken, thanks so much for posting. You had me laughing (out loud at times) the entire way through.  

In two weeks, the wife and I embark for Disney World with the kiddies (5,3,19 months). I will replay and may need to re-read this post (several times).  

Thanks, again! 

[Vetteman]

“A tad unhinged”??

[Ken Gargett]

7 hours ago, Dr Process said:

Ken, thanks so much for posting. You had me laughing (out loud at times) the entire way through.  

In two weeks, the wife and I embark for Disney World with the kiddies (5,3,19 months). I will replay and may need to re-read this post (several times).  

Thanks, again! 

i wish you far better luck on your travels.

in fairness, the rest of the trip was brilliant.