As we are getting close to New Zealand, Qantas airs an informational video
about entering New Zealand, the message of which was essentially "you're
going to jail for smuggling food, you bad bad person." And then they
hand out a paper confession form (aka customs), which is a legal document, and
if you lie - or make a mistake - you are immediately fined $400.
Eek! I am frowning as I fill in the form, as I already have two
infractions. I do have munchies in my luggage, and I did come into
contact with animals in Australia.
As we begin our descent and come down through the clouds, I am craning my neck for a view of New Zealand. The first glimpse is a stretch of land mixed with water mixed with land, perhaps some place where the sea is just shallowly reaching over the coastal land. It was quite stunning, and gone before I could get my camera out (and taking pictures out the window of a plane is always hit and miss - more often miss, in my experience). But JQ and I are both struck with how green it is. Green rolling hills.
It's after 7 p.m. when we land, still a bright evening sky outside. When we walk up the boarding ramps and into the airport, there is a beautiful Maori carving that stretches all over the entrance, with music playing that I presume is also Maori. Very beautiful - and a lovely welcome to New Zealand!
As always, the first visit is our friends in security. Like Australia, New Zealand uses the "we take your picture now, to make it easier to arrest you later" policy. Plop your passport down, stare at the camera, then go on to the real live people. It is obviously not a busy time of day. The crowd control lines are up, but no one is there. We breeze through the line, with only two people ahead of us.
I am in the "I have something to declare" line, and it's not just that JQ bugs me. NZ, like Australia, has very strict import rules. After watching the advisory video they showed on the plane, and filling out the mandatory form, "which is a legal document" and includes an "automatic $400 fine" if you fill it out incorrectly, I am very wary. On the form, I checked YES to the "is there food in your luggage" question, and YES to the "did you handle wildlife" question. JQ checked the YES to the "are you addicted to coffee and sleep and could you be a rogue koala/giraffe hybrid".
I explain to the man that I have smuggled out some Australian French Fries (because I want to eat them), some Australian chocolate (ditto), and some Australian nuts (not my friend over there, no, I mean real nuts you can ingest). But all of them are sealed. He says that is okay; they are all sealed, so they are all good. But had I not declared them, it would still be a $400 fine, so that's how that works, people. Tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but, or fork over $400.
He gives me the serious eye, and says these are the important questions: Do you have milk? No. Do you have honey? No. Do you have any plants, including natural herbs or medicinal plants? No. Do you have a friend named JQ? No.
As for the animals…? I petted a kangaroo… and maybe a dog or two. Also okay. I am free to go!
By disavowing JQ, I am free to go.
JQ is not free to go. Although she did not smuggle food, she is bringing a precious jewel into New Zealand. No, not me, silly - the opal! 😉 I decide to wait for her outside. I don't want to be there for the inevitable scuffle that will happen when someone tries to touch "the precious".
I walk through the sliding doors to freedom. As I step out, the first
thing I see is a giant statue of Gimli. I am in Middle Earth at
last! (But a giant statue of a dwarf is somewhat contradictory, isn't
it? I mean, how can he be a giant dwarf? He could be tall for a
dwarf, but should he really tower over humankind that much? I have been
flying too long if these are the important thoughts that occupy my mind.)
Eventually JQ joins me, commenting that she knew I'd be next to the Lord of the Rings display. Hey, it's a giant dwarf. Seems like a logical meeting point.
JQ had booked the car rental, so she calls her company for a pick-up; they tell us they will pick us up at door 11 in 10 minutes. Perfect! We go outside door 11, and wait.
It is lovely outside, sun setting, sky pink. 10 minutes pass. We wait. 20 minutes pass. Other car rental companies come. Other car rental companies go. We see a van that looks like our rental company drive by on the main road... Was that...? I don't know. Maybe. We wait. 30 minutes pass. JQ calls and says we're still waiting. 40 minutes have passed, and the guy finally shows up.
He sort of apologizes, by way of saying that he had to go to the domestic terminal first to pick up a woman, because she'd been waiting for a long time. Really? We know the feeling.
Anyway, we are packed into a van with about three other groups, and of course when everyone piles out, we are at the end of the line. They get their cars and go. It's now fully dark outside.
When we finally get to the counter, we have to fill out a form attesting to our driving ability. Both of us struggle with this question: Are you confident of your ability to drive in New Zealand? Okay, what exactly does "confident" mean? I feel like it needs a modifier. I am feeling "warily confident". JQ suggests the words anxiety, trepidation and uncertainty. These are not instilling confidence in the clerks.
They offer us an instructional video. It has the unintentionally funny opener: "If you're from one of these countries--" Brings up a picture of the globe, and 95% of the world is highlighted. "--then you're probably used to driving on the other side of the road."
The rules are mostly the same, but backward. There's some oddity about traffic circles that slightly escapes me. Also, if you're driving in the country and a farmer is waving at you, he's not being friendly, he's warning you about an upcoming road hazard. I think this is counter-intuitive. And how many tourists, who have not watched this video, see a friendly farmer, then accidentally drive off a cliff? There is no way to know.
Anyway, we watch the video, and proclaim that we are confident with our ability to drive in New Zealand. They give us the keys to our shiny red Nissan Qashqai, and out we go to get in the car. It's so weird. Everything is backwards. "Eek," says JQ, with a sudden lack of confidence now that the moment is upon her.
I take the wheel, because (wary or confident or whatever), I am eager to give it a try. We input the address of our hotel into our GPS, and then try to keep up. I had specifically chosen a hotel in the airport area to avoid having to drive too far through too much traffic, but we still have to successfully drive 8km, which seems like a long way at the moment.
"Left," we mutter to ourselves. "Left, stay left, stay left." Drive on the left side of the street. Try to signal your intentions to turn - no, those are the window wipers. The signal is on the other side. Successfully signal, then try to turn into the right lane. "No, LEFT! LEFT LANE! LEFT LANE!"
I see my first traffic circle (which they call a roundabout), and somehow navigate through it. In another two blocks, there is another roundabout. Lefty-lefty-lefty-loo. There's another freaking roundabout - why is New Zealand so in love with these stupid roundabouts? Because this one is in a residential neighbourhood, it doesn't have curbs, so I presume it is more of a suggestion, and I just drive over it (probably with my window wipers sweeping madly back and forth). Besides, it’s night, and there’s no one here to rat me out except JQ.
We reach the motel without causing serious injury to ourselves or others. Whew! Mission accomplished. I park at the front door, and we check in to the motel. We're given our room key and assigned a parking spot. JQ decides to try to park. She leaves so much room that the motel guy actually laughs at us. I get out to direct her, and finally we've got the car fitting in the proper space.
Did I mention that our itinerary for New Zealand is essentially a giant road trip? This should be interesting.
😂😲😀😱
As we begin our descent and come down through the clouds, I am craning my neck for a view of New Zealand. The first glimpse is a stretch of land mixed with water mixed with land, perhaps some place where the sea is just shallowly reaching over the coastal land. It was quite stunning, and gone before I could get my camera out (and taking pictures out the window of a plane is always hit and miss - more often miss, in my experience). But JQ and I are both struck with how green it is. Green rolling hills.
It's after 7 p.m. when we land, still a bright evening sky outside. When we walk up the boarding ramps and into the airport, there is a beautiful Maori carving that stretches all over the entrance, with music playing that I presume is also Maori. Very beautiful - and a lovely welcome to New Zealand!
 |
| Welcome to New Zealand |
As always, the first visit is our friends in security. Like Australia, New Zealand uses the "we take your picture now, to make it easier to arrest you later" policy. Plop your passport down, stare at the camera, then go on to the real live people. It is obviously not a busy time of day. The crowd control lines are up, but no one is there. We breeze through the line, with only two people ahead of us.
I am in the "I have something to declare" line, and it's not just that JQ bugs me. NZ, like Australia, has very strict import rules. After watching the advisory video they showed on the plane, and filling out the mandatory form, "which is a legal document" and includes an "automatic $400 fine" if you fill it out incorrectly, I am very wary. On the form, I checked YES to the "is there food in your luggage" question, and YES to the "did you handle wildlife" question. JQ checked the YES to the "are you addicted to coffee and sleep and could you be a rogue koala/giraffe hybrid".
I explain to the man that I have smuggled out some Australian French Fries (because I want to eat them), some Australian chocolate (ditto), and some Australian nuts (not my friend over there, no, I mean real nuts you can ingest). But all of them are sealed. He says that is okay; they are all sealed, so they are all good. But had I not declared them, it would still be a $400 fine, so that's how that works, people. Tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but, or fork over $400.
He gives me the serious eye, and says these are the important questions: Do you have milk? No. Do you have honey? No. Do you have any plants, including natural herbs or medicinal plants? No. Do you have a friend named JQ? No.
As for the animals…? I petted a kangaroo… and maybe a dog or two. Also okay. I am free to go!
By disavowing JQ, I am free to go.
JQ is not free to go. Although she did not smuggle food, she is bringing a precious jewel into New Zealand. No, not me, silly - the opal! 😉 I decide to wait for her outside. I don't want to be there for the inevitable scuffle that will happen when someone tries to touch "the precious".
Eventually JQ joins me, commenting that she knew I'd be next to the Lord of the Rings display. Hey, it's a giant dwarf. Seems like a logical meeting point.
JQ had booked the car rental, so she calls her company for a pick-up; they tell us they will pick us up at door 11 in 10 minutes. Perfect! We go outside door 11, and wait.
It is lovely outside, sun setting, sky pink. 10 minutes pass. We wait. 20 minutes pass. Other car rental companies come. Other car rental companies go. We see a van that looks like our rental company drive by on the main road... Was that...? I don't know. Maybe. We wait. 30 minutes pass. JQ calls and says we're still waiting. 40 minutes have passed, and the guy finally shows up.
He sort of apologizes, by way of saying that he had to go to the domestic terminal first to pick up a woman, because she'd been waiting for a long time. Really? We know the feeling.
Anyway, we are packed into a van with about three other groups, and of course when everyone piles out, we are at the end of the line. They get their cars and go. It's now fully dark outside.
When we finally get to the counter, we have to fill out a form attesting to our driving ability. Both of us struggle with this question: Are you confident of your ability to drive in New Zealand? Okay, what exactly does "confident" mean? I feel like it needs a modifier. I am feeling "warily confident". JQ suggests the words anxiety, trepidation and uncertainty. These are not instilling confidence in the clerks.
They offer us an instructional video. It has the unintentionally funny opener: "If you're from one of these countries--" Brings up a picture of the globe, and 95% of the world is highlighted. "--then you're probably used to driving on the other side of the road."
The rules are mostly the same, but backward. There's some oddity about traffic circles that slightly escapes me. Also, if you're driving in the country and a farmer is waving at you, he's not being friendly, he's warning you about an upcoming road hazard. I think this is counter-intuitive. And how many tourists, who have not watched this video, see a friendly farmer, then accidentally drive off a cliff? There is no way to know.
Anyway, we watch the video, and proclaim that we are confident with our ability to drive in New Zealand. They give us the keys to our shiny red Nissan Qashqai, and out we go to get in the car. It's so weird. Everything is backwards. "Eek," says JQ, with a sudden lack of confidence now that the moment is upon her.
I take the wheel, because (wary or confident or whatever), I am eager to give it a try. We input the address of our hotel into our GPS, and then try to keep up. I had specifically chosen a hotel in the airport area to avoid having to drive too far through too much traffic, but we still have to successfully drive 8km, which seems like a long way at the moment.
"Left," we mutter to ourselves. "Left, stay left, stay left." Drive on the left side of the street. Try to signal your intentions to turn - no, those are the window wipers. The signal is on the other side. Successfully signal, then try to turn into the right lane. "No, LEFT! LEFT LANE! LEFT LANE!"
I see my first traffic circle (which they call a roundabout), and somehow navigate through it. In another two blocks, there is another roundabout. Lefty-lefty-lefty-loo. There's another freaking roundabout - why is New Zealand so in love with these stupid roundabouts? Because this one is in a residential neighbourhood, it doesn't have curbs, so I presume it is more of a suggestion, and I just drive over it (probably with my window wipers sweeping madly back and forth). Besides, it’s night, and there’s no one here to rat me out except JQ.
We reach the motel without causing serious injury to ourselves or others. Whew! Mission accomplished. I park at the front door, and we check in to the motel. We're given our room key and assigned a parking spot. JQ decides to try to park. She leaves so much room that the motel guy actually laughs at us. I get out to direct her, and finally we've got the car fitting in the proper space.
Did I mention that our itinerary for New Zealand is essentially a giant road trip? This should be interesting.
😂😲😀😱
I kind of have left/right confusion to begin with. I don't know whether that has helped or hindered. Our best strategy has been to follow other cars around. Sometimes it takes us where we don't want to go, but at least we're on the right (left) side of the road. :-)
ReplyDeleteWhy oh why did they rent you a car?? Why? Why didn't they call me first?? Sigh!! I'm on my way to mass. I'll add all New Zealanders to my list of intentions. Oh...and of course, you two. Safe travels.
ReplyDeleteFrancophonic
They rented us a car because we gave them money. $$$ And maybe they did say a prayer as we left - who knows?
DeleteBut I forgot to mention in my blog posting: when we were pulling up to the car rental place, another car was just leaving, and it was trying to leave the parking lot from the wrong side of the road. Slowly, slowly corrected before puttering on its way. So we're in good (bad) company! ;-)