The Trip

So after the tearful family goodbye (of which none were shed by yours truly), I boarded a plane in Redmond and later rather than sooner found myself waiting amid a throng of foreigners in the LA airport. A crazy man stood beside me. His bell-bottom jeans were covered with, at the very least, 50 or so multicolored iron-on patches, his unkempt hair trailed down to mid-chest, and his eyes were barely discernible beneath the shadowed brim of a well-worn cowboy hat. Whichever fool ends up sitting next to that guy, I told myself, is in for a real treat. 

Twenty minutes and two seat changes later, I was the fool sitting next to that guy. His name was Mike or something, and we struck up a reluctant traveling friendship (which are the worst kind, by the way). Nevertheless, Air New Zealand put on a grand show for me, as my personal 8.5-inch television screen played over three dozen movies, four dozen newly released CDs, and multiple episodes of above-par television shows. I also had a glass of pinot noir with dinner, which certainly didn't hinder my ability to talk friendly with the freak beside me. 

Anyway, I didn't sleep at all, except for a brief nap right before landing which entailed a really cool dream about hang gliding... and then I arrived. In New Zealand! Kickass! Unfortunately, I forgot to declare two small jars of jam - which I'd lugged across an entire ocean to dole out to what will surely be the ungrateful hands of vegan flatmates - an error in judgment that nearly resulted in my being strip-searched. Still, I persevered, and two short plane rides later (Auckland to Wellington, Wellington to Dunedin) I was only running thirty minutes late and had made a friend who let me sit next to the window for the entire second leg of the trip. His name was Fraser and he informed me: that the view out the plane window was unparalleled this morning, as he'd made such a trip for four years in a row now and had never seen a clearer day; that I would be seeing a lot of him at parties around campus, as where I'll be staying is "right in the thick of it;" and that the book he had, despite being an Oprah pick, was still quite good. 

So to make a long story short, both of my bags ended up being lost, which means I had to endure an entire frigid day wearing only the t-shirt I'd had on for the previous 48 hours. Everyone's been really, really friendly, and my attempts to match their levels of optimistic enthusiasm have left me exhausted. There are a lot more indigenous Maori people here than I predicted, driving on the left side of the road is way crazier than I ever imagined, and I'm proud to report that the student neighborhoods here make The Cave and UO life in general look clean by comparison (way to go, guys). Tomorrow is my last day without anyone else being here, so I'll probably update again for lack of having anything else better to do. I'm excited to see how this all plays out. 

Take it easy, everyone.