Auckland - New Zealand 2007

Customs was an interesting experience. I guess I was a little clueless as to the entire New Zealand process. You know the card I filled out on the plane? Yeah, well I misplaced it between the plane and the terminal. I did however find my lens for my glasses. It turned out that my lens had fallen down a little nook beside my seat and only after a good look did I find it. I am so happy that I had shelled out the extra money for non-scratch lenses.

Now, back to the adventure of NZ customs.

I arrived and I was asked for my passport and my documentation and I was under the impression that I had placed my paperwork in my passport, well to my surprise, my paperwork was not there. I was taken aside by a nice lady to fill out my card. After the embarrassment, I was whisked to a lineup for passengers awaiting entry into this paradise.

It was now my turn and after the pre screening questions, I was automatically flagged as an individual who may be up to no good. It was my own fault considering I attempted to use humor and I was a ragged wreck. I had been wearing the same clothes for over 24 hours, my eyes were bloodshot and I was wearing camo shorts and a fleece vest with sunglasses and a backwards ballcap. After the agents had thoroughly searched my luggage, I was thanked and allowed entry into New Zealand. I made my way to the main terminal and stopped at the gift shop to purchase ten postcards of various varieties. Most contained sheep or the Skytower. I took an hour to write home. I sent postcards to my mother and father, my sister, my cousin, my grand parents, my off again on again girlfriend and various other workmates and mates in general.

It was still quite early and the sun was just coming up. I used the washroom to have a quick “bath in the sink” then I ventured out the doors to arrange passage to downtown Auckland. There was a row of shuttles and a friendly man took my luggage and loaded it into the luggage trailer and I took a seat in the extended van.

As I waited, I struck up a conversation with my two fellow passengers.

Iris was from Germany and she had been traveling Australia and New Zealand for the past year. She was coming from Christchurch and was spending one night in Auckland before she took a flight back home.

Angela just arrived from the United States and she was like me, curious as to the world around her. She had purchased a ticket to NZ on a whim and had no idea what she was going to do now that she was here.

As we traveled to the city, I was instantly amazed at the greenness of my surroundings. The roadside offered a vast display of foliage and the city streets were clean, neat, beautiful and fully marked. This land was nothing like Canada. I had left the ugly, grungy streets of Montreal Rd and Rideau St to find the vast green wonder of Auckland.

I convinced Angela to come with me to the Base Backpackers Hostel since she had no idea where she was going to stay and I spent my remaining time chatting with the girls about life, love, and the pursuit of happiness.

I stepped out of the van to downtown Auckland. I was again amazed of the cleanliness of the streets and I knew there and then that I was about to experience one of the greatest moments in my young life.

Auckland was my new playground, and all I wanted was a shower and some sleep.

Chicago - New Zealand 2007

A few hours later, we descended from the clouds to unveil the great city of Chicago. I again kept my amazed eyes glued to my window as we slowly descended. I was amazed of the vastness and sheer size of Chicago. As I flew over the downtown core I thought of Elliot Ness and Al Capone, The Chicago Cubs and White Socks, The Chicago Blackhawks, and the great gray and blue cloud of pollution hanging over the city.

My first landing was met with ripples of fear and anticipation as my adrenalin started pumping like a dose of ice-cold water to the veins. We descended with great speed and since I was unsure of the process involved with landing an aircraft, I was frightened beyond all belief. It was like the first time I had the pleasure to ride a really good roller coaster with an intimidating drop of several hundred feet. I held my breath, grasp the arms of my seat and prayed to the gods for a favorable outcome. As the wheels hit the runway I knew I was finally safe, but only relinquished my grasp on my seat only after the plane came to a complete stop.

I was happy now. I had escaped death and I had shaved two hours off my twenty-four hour trip. I entered the Chicago O’Hare airport with great amazement. This facility was instantly five or six times the size of Ottawa’s flight facility. I was a visitor in the country, a visitor from a foreign land and I was instantly treated a second-class citizen. You have to love the Americans.

I lined up to enter customs. There I waited and waited. I was like everyone else in line, waiting for the only two customs agents to finish their conversation and acknowledge the 21 travel weary travelers who had just arrived from Canada. Naturally, I had to wait because the cover of Vogue magazine was more interesting them us. (Mind you it was another fashion magazine I just failed to obtain the name so I guess Vogue is a good enough substitute) Finally one of our traveling companions decided to play the “clearing of the throat game” and finally the customs agents (with great distain for being forced to do their jobs) conceded to reality and allowed us to finally enter the country.

The woman glanced at my passport and then at me. She then instantly handed my passport back to me and waved me through. Not one word was spoken between us. This is what I call top security. American tax dollars at work. I later realized that my baggage was being transferred for me and I was worry free about obtaining my baggage until Los Angeles. I was so happy, less complications is equal to less stress, this country boy has had enough excitement.

I now had to wait another hour and I again would be boarding a plane destined to the west coast of the United States. Los Angeles, here I come.