Linda has found a return flight to New Zealand for 2 weeks for a mere $500 and some odd dollars so naturally I tell her she should book it.
What I don't anticipate is that Jordan and I will suddenly become homeless prior to her arrival. I feel anxious as Jordan and I frantically pack, clean the house and organize the van. We're both coming down with the same cold and struggle against our symptoms. Our booking at a nearby backpackers doesn't come into affect until the following morning so we intend to park the van at Charlotte and Kayla's but end up passing out at Manu Bay while watching Vampire Diaries and eating chowder.
Taking into consideration that camping at Manu is NOT the wisest idea, the car gets very cold and we wake up feeling like absolute garbage. I'm meant to pick up Linda at the Auckland airport and I feel like too much of a jerk to ask her to take the bus so I down a bunch of tylenol and coffee and hit the road.
I make it in perfect time and Linda and I have an awesome catch up on the drive back.
I show her around the backpackers (located in a beautiful old house and with a lovely private room) and Lin and I go to the pub for a game of pool.
During the next few days I struggle against my cold in an effort to be an entertaining host, while Linda struggles against her jet lag in an effort to stay up past 8 pm and not wake me up at 5 am.
I am supposed to work a couple days during the week but when I call in I'm told I sound awful and am asked to keep my germ-ridden self at home.
The three of us do make an outing to Hobbiton. I am unsure of what to expect but it is a truly magical experience and well worth the money. I forget that part of guided tours is taking tons of photos. I get overwhelmed when families ask me to snap a pic of them and end up taking hundreds of shots in the hopes there will be one they'll like. When people offer to take photos of us we get incredibly uncomfortable and all end up looking like awkward idiots.
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| Point in case... |
One night there is an 80's party planned that we've all been discussing for months, at this point Linda has caught our disgusting cold and the two of us spend the day laying in bed. The hostel is fully booked for the weekend so our host, Suzy, has moved a beautiful French man into our dwellings for a night. Linda and I lay in darkness, coughing, sniffling and watching Overboard while this guy looks at us in utter disgust. Suzy keeps stopping by and asking us girls if we're alright with our new roomie, but I think maybe she should be asking him instead.
It takes all of our energy to get up and get ready for the party, but we manage. My outfit of choice: spandex, homemade leg warmers, a body suit and a loose, bright pink sweater. Total price tag: $1.50. I love the Raglan dump!!!
I tease my hair and Suzy stops by the admire my costume. She insists my hair needs to be bigger and has me flip my head while she gets to work teasing and hair spraying. It looks fabulous.
We rendezvous with Jordan, Kayla, Kadie, Emily, Kane and Luke and start our convoy to the party. The music is bumping and no one is messing around on the dance floor, but I still feel like crap.
At 2 am I've hit my limit and announce mine and Linda's departure to many shouts of protest.
The next morning I actually feel way better and when Dana calls to ask if I'm coming in, I'm prepared to tell her yes, but when I hear my voice for the first time I'm taken aback. I sound like a frog with stage 3 lung cancer. Dana tells me I should just stay home...
It's our final night in Rags and we tell a couple people to come to the pub for a drink and are amazed by the turnout. It's such a great farewell, it makes saying goodbye that much harder.
We mean to depart in the morning, but when all is said and done it's more like late afternoon.
We drive as far north as we can and stop at a beautiful bay to camp. I walk into the office feeling like crap and the woman at the desk exclaims, "Wow! You have GORGEOUS hair!"
Her comment catches me off guard and makes me smile. Thanks sweet random lady! I needed that boost.
We all sleep at awkward angles and wake up shivering.
We continue our drive and make it up to Kerikeri and then down to Paihia. We want the full Bay of Islands experience so we book a boat tour. We chill for the rest of the day, check out the waterfalls and indulge in happy hour. We find a cheap campsite and the woman at the office asks, "Is that your van?"
We nod, slightly confused.
"ANN730" she says, reading the license plate. "7 +3 = 10. 10 is a very powerful number, you can create a lot with it. With that number, you'll be unstoppable."
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| Waterfalls in Paihia |
We spend another chilly night in the van and then layer up in the morning for our boat tour.
It is an absolutely spectacular day! We see thousands and thousands of common dolphins and they even have babies! The playfully ride the wake and jump up beside the boat. They're in the middle of feeding so they all stay close to the surface of the water.
We go to the 'Hole in the Rock,' 'Seal Rock' and check out a few other islands.
We go to Russell, once dubbed 'The Hell Hole of the South Pacific' because of all the rape and pillage that once occurred on the shores. Since the arrival of missionaries, it is now a cute colonial tourist town.
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| Hole in the Rock |
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| Seal Rock |
We finish our tour and drive up to 90 Mile Beach where we speed down the sand and do doughnuts. We make out way back to Paihia and treat ourselves to a hostel as it is freezing cold and we can't spend another restless night in the van. We just want to rest and watch Vampire Diaries but the people in the next room are wasted and loud. A girl pukes right outside our door in the middle of the night. I know this is hypocritical but sometimes, I really dislike travellers...
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| 90 Mile Beach |
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| 90 Mile Beach |
The next day we're back to Auckland and Jordan is heading home to Canada for the summer. It's so weird and emotional to say goodbye. We've spent every day together for the past 9 months. I know it's temporary but it feels like the end of an era.
Linda and I check into a hostel downtown and relax a little.
The next day we go to Al's Deli and indulge in caesars. It's a beautiful day so we walk to the waterfront and checkout the Mataraki Festival.
We decide we should go out dancing. I haven't been to a real bar in ages and I feel like I owe Linda a wild night after all my sick misery. We get dolled up and I have this overwhelming feeling of doom while trying to decide where to store my passport due to lack of a purse (insert obvious foreshadowing reference here.) I resolve to keep my passport close to me all night.
Linda and I go downtown to a trendy bar with 'Garage' in the name. The bartenders are beautiful, but downright surly. I pay $18 for a gin and tonic and almost die of shock. We leave immediately and follow the sounds of hip hop to another bar nearby. We dance it up for hours but the bar becomes uncomfortably full and we opt to leave.
We go across the street to another bar and I KNOW I have my passport there as I show it to the doorman to get in. We drink and dance some more and then leave to go to another bar.
When we arrive I reach into my pocket and make the terrifying discovery:
MY PASSPORT IS GONE!!!
I try to stay calm.
We retrace our steps back to our previous location: nothing.
We scour the previous bar, floor, bathrooms, patio: nothing.
I interrogate all the staff members: nothing.
I begin crying hysterically. I retreat to the hostel feeling defeated and wake up in the morning praying that it was all a dream. It's not. And I have two parking tickets on my van totally $140.
I hate my life.
I message a bunch of people on Facebook looking for comfort. JD calls me immediately and tries to calm me down. We take some healing breaths together. He sends me his love and positive vibes. (JD, you're such an awesome friend, I can't thank you enough for your support in that moment.)
I call the cops and report it missing and they promise to contact me if it turns up.
I call the venue, but they're not open yet.
I go to the Canadian Embassy but they're closed.
With nothing else to do, Linda and I go to Dim Sum in an effort to cheer ourselves up through copious amounts of greasy food.
I finally get a hold of the venue and they say my passport hasn't turned up and promise to contact me if it does.
I harass the venue and the cops repeatedly over the next couple days to no avail. I refuse to cancel my flight to Aus in the hopes that some good samaritan will turn it in.
Linda flies home and we say a heartfelt goodbye. I return to the Canadian embassy and the lady tells me I need to contact a woman in Wellington. She explains that an emergency passport can be issued but only to return immediately to Canada. A replacement will take at least a month.
"I'm supposed to leave on Wednesday!"
"That's not going to happen," she states bluntly.
I burst into teats. She tries to comfort me from behind the thick plated glass.
I eventually get a hold of the lady in Wellington and she emails me all the information to begin the replacement process. A LOT of paperwork is involved.
I make up my mind: if a month is my timeline, I'm leaving godforsaken Auckland and going back to my home away from home, Raglan.
I'm lucky enough to receive a message from Scott, the owner of an accommodation we stayed at in the summer. He offers me a room at a good price and I feel relieved to have a home base established.
I get back into Raglan and pop into The Shack. I explain my story of woe and ask if they need any help. Not only do they, but they can give me a shift a following day. Things are looking up. I decide to adopt a positive attitude. After all, now I have reason to spend another month is this beautiful place. I have a lot to be grateful for.
To be continued...
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