Getting There

So we're finally here! After about eighteen months of planning and interruptions.  Despite all that has happened (Christchurch earthquake appeal found here ),we've arrived and we're excited and looking forward to the feast of rugby, beer, wine, food and people that the next six weeks holds.  

Departure was at midnight. The pilot joyously announced that conditions were favourable for a fast flight across the continent to Sydney.  Just what you want to hear when trying to get some sleep while anticipating the five hour drive which would be required after landing in Christchurch.  We rolled ourselves in our blankets and tried to sleep.  When we surfaced three hours later, we were in the Greater Sydney Holding Pattern - this is generated every morning by a flock of planes trying to land as close to the 6:00 am lifting of the curfew as possible.  We landed about twenty minutes late (consternation) and then disembarkation was held up by a medical emergency two rows ahead of us.  The gentleman concerned made it off the plane safely into the custody of paramedics from the NSW ambulance service.

Then came our Husain Bolt-like sprint to catch the outbound flight to Christchurch.  We raced to the transfer lounge and waited for the bus to tour us through the tortuous innards of Sydney airport as we travelled from the domestic terminal to Terminal One for our international flight.  A rapid transit through immigration and down interminable airport corridors finally got us on board, gasping. Then the plane sat for forty minutes at the gate while they sorted a lugggage issue.

A couple of hours snooze later and we descend at lunchtime over the beautiful snow-capped peaks of the South Island alps into Christchurch and find that Qantas has fulfilled the old British Airways joke - breakfast in Sydney, lunch in Christchurch, (some) baggage in Auckland!  Fi's distinctive blue suitcase was laying early claim to being the most travelled item on this trip.  However, the nice Air New Zealand lady at the Lost Baggage counter in Christchurch assured us that said suitcase would appear at the door of our house in Dunedin the next day.  This we took on board with some (well concealed) scepticism.

Then the wonderful Mark at the Budget rental car counter made us feel very welcome and introduced us to Enzo the Holden Epica - soon to be our constant companion for the next several weeks.

Enzo eagerly awaiting his next tussle with Dunedins hills

We headed down Route 1 from Christchurch to Dunedin - an uneventful trip broken by a coffee break in Ashburton. We rolled into a dark rainy Dunedin about 8 pm.  Before tackling the task of finding our accommodation, we decided to fortify the inner being with food before ascending to our new home base. So we stopped off at the Starfish, a nice cafe/bar/restaurant on the beach at St Clair.  We had visited there on our previous trip to South Island and were delighted to find out that the food, beer and service continued to be excellent.  Then we headed up the hill to find our shelter.

After some casting about, we found the driveway and cautiously edged down it, caution being encouraged by darkness, rain, an unfamiliar car, a narrow driveway and what looked like a 400 m plummet to the plains below.  We got to the house, went in and were greeted by the spectacle of Dunedin by night spread out in all its glory before us through the picture lounge windows (TV for scale):

 

Mike unpacked, there was a cup of tea and then there was the usual sniffing in all the corners, opening of cupboards etc, the starting of the "feeling at home" process.  So wonderfully sleep-deprived and completely stuffed after the five hour drive, a taster of duty-free whiskey enabled us to collapse into bed, even though it was still afternoon by the body clock.  

More to come later!