Scottish beasties

I haven't the foggiest idea what day it is. But I made it to Christchurch safely and more importantly, so did my luggage. The only reason I'm blogging is because I've been told not to give into my urge to sleep until it's New Zealand bedtime. It's suposedly the best way to beat jetlag. I, on the other hand, think it's the best way to get me in trouble. But I'm doing my very best not to engage into conversation with anyone in the hostel as I suspect my incessant yawning would make for a rather rude introduction. Hence the blogging.

At any rate, I'm here. But only thanks to my superstitious nature and my mother's willingness to indulge my overcautious time planning. Let me explain. For some reason I'd decided it'd be a good idea to read my chinese horoscope before leaving and, lo-and-behold, it predicted enormous travel delays for August 28th. Suposedly the only way to escape total doom would be to remain calm and let things unfold as they came my way. Sit back and let unfold. Yes well, I don't think so. I kindly asked my mother to drop me off at the airport a full 90 minutes before the check-in desk was sheduled to open. That's right. BEFORE it even opened.

By sheer luck, I found myself transfered onto an earlier flight into London. When I arrived at Heathrow, I was told that the flight I had been originally booked on from Brussels was delayed so much that I would never have made my connection in Heathrow on time. Ominous beginnings, is what I say.

The flights themselves went surprisingly well. I survived on a mere 3 anxiolithicums and found myself actually enjoying the experience. I decided it'd be a good passtime to tally up all the single flights I've taken in my life till this day. I'm not sure I've got them all down but so far, my count stands at 197 single flights. That's a LOT of anxiolithicums, I just realised.

I nearly wet myself upon flying into Sydney, by the way. The Ozzies have a very twisted sense of humour and showed us an educational video on the legal implications and hazards of trying to smuggle biological items through customs, presented by none other than... Steve Irwin. I kid you not.

While the customs at Syndey were strict enough, they were nothing compared to the Kiwi experience. My packet of chewing gum and my bottle of water were confiscated upon arrival, on account of being "suspicious". This amused me greatly as both gum and water were French. I was then told to remove my hiking boots from my backpack and asked when and where these were last used. When I replied: "Scotland, 4 months ago", my boots were immediately dragged off to quarantine and hosed down with a disinfectant. They were handed back to me soaking wet and wrapped in a plastic bag, with the words: "Lots of nasties over there." I grinned and replied: "I know. I just got a text message off one of them."

I think it's safe to say the Kiwis have a different sense of humour... :s



Right. Well, I best be off to the social lounge and see about my roommates. They're all german and I'm thoroughly annoyed with them already. One of them has the same backpack as me and she's managed to pack it neater, smaller and lighter than I did. This really pisses me off. Damn German Efficiency.

Miss you all! :-)