Brought to You From Narita, Japan

Last night was one of those stressful sleepless nights. Having dinner too late in the evening, I had acid reflux when I went to bed. It kept me up until 1am when I last looked at the phone. The alarm was set for 4:50, our taxi was coming at 6am. Just as I fell asleep, I heard that distinctive beep signaling that my phone is almost out of juice. 

With my phone also being our alarm clock, we were dependent on it to ring at the right time and not die out during the night. With Ron sleeping, I had to root around looking for the charger PLUS the electric adapter. Our adapter is a bit boxy, so the weight of it sometimes pulls it out of the wall socket. I had to create a blind balancing act to keep the charger happily connected to the wall, while the phone was happily suckling on the charger. All appropriate lights were lit, so I could get back to sleep. 

An hour into a deep sleep, my subconscious shoved me awake. Check the clock. All is well at 2:45am. Falling back asleep, again that feeling thrusts me into having to think. Look at the clock 3:34 am. Try it again, thinking 3 is the charm, but not so. The third awakening was at 4:45am. Why bother trying to get a few minutes sleep now. Just out of curiosity and lack on energy, I did maintain an inert status long enough to see if the alarm would go off. It sure did. Now that I had this extra time, I could pack the charger, the electric adapter, and the phone. 

When we checked in for our flight, there was still some anxiety over the luggage, though I had given away the third piece yesterday.  No worries, both bags came in under the maximum allowed, though my backpack is stuffed. They would only check it to Japan. We have a twenty-one hour layover, so we will need to collect it and put it through again when we check in again. They could not give us boarding passes through.

Air New Zealand did a nice job with the service from Auckland to Tokyo, but damn if the weather was not cooperating. Almost immediately they gave us immigration papers to fill in for Japan as well as Customs Declarations. With the plane shaking like paint in a mixer, I thought it is a waste of time to fill out those papers until we are sure we will survive the flight. If anything, we needed to amend our wills. 

Yet, we landed fine. We could have taken the shuttle to our hotel if we wanted to wait 1 1/2 hours, so it was a taxi instead.  Don't even get me started on the cost of the taxi. However, the airline gave us breakfast and dinner, so we did not need to venture out for dinner; that was a savings. 

Japan is 4 hours different than NZ, meaning we gained 4 hours. Too bad, because by 8pm, Ron was ready for bed. I have to stay up later or I will be up at 3am. I should take a pill, but they are packed and I am not touching those bags. 

Tomorrow, we will be home again. After a week or two, it will be like we had not had a vacation at all. The photos will have to become our computer slideshow screensaver to refresh our memory of the fantastic times we had, the places we visited, and the people we met.

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• Japan on $10,000 a day (theglobeandmail.com)

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May Old Acquaintances Be Reunited

Five years ago, when we first went to South Africa, we met this woman on one of our multiple day tours. She was traveling with the daughter of her good friends. We were a captive audience for hours on end, but enjoyed each others’ company immensely, so we exchanged e-mails. She was originally from South Africa, but had moved to New Zealand years prior. As many of those exchanges go, we e-mailed sporadically over the years and then lost touch. Coincidentally, when we first arrived here, I found a Christmas greeting from Margosia. I responded sharing that we were in country if there were any chance of getting together. She lives in Wellington, but was going to be in Auckland when we where there. Hoping to another chance, we looked for a chance at the end of the trip. As luck would have it, she is housesitting for her sister in Devonport, a suburb of Auckland, so dinner was possible.

Using our past knowledge of the city, we bought a Discovery Pass allowing us unlimited transport on all city buses with the bonus of free ferry transport to Devonport. Perfect! We rode the link bus circling the city, using it as a hop-on hop-off bus, stopping in neighborhoods that looked appealing. This makes for a real conundrum, though. Why would we want to stop in appealing neighborhoods, read here – good shopping, when we are restricted with the luggage? 

This makes me curious how merchants who are dependent on tourism are getting by? Do tourists buy less knowing they may potentially have to pay extra fees at the airport? Even the vast number of cruise passengers will need to fly somewhere once reaching the home port again. I have to admit, it has curbed my spending a great deal. As expensive as the books are here, there have been a couple on sale by authors I follow, so would snap them up in a second, but then the airline agent appears in front of my face saying “That will be $75 for Air NZ, but we don’t know if Lufthansa is going to charge you more for the rest of your trip.” Codesharing is great when the airlines cooperate, but they should all have to agree on luggage limits. It is schizophrenic for everyone to have their own rules when they are shifting luggage from one airline to another. So I send my regrets to the booksellers who did not get my cash as well as to the souvenir stores where I did not buy the impulsive trinkets. Complain to the airlines. It is their fault. It was my intent to be a good shopper. 

One of our stops was for a Burger Fuel lunch. Burger Fuel is a chain where they serve the best hamburgers I have ever tasted. With strange combinations, you can also get sweet potatoes French fried. What a treat it was. After lunch, we found the War Memorial Museum, but only made it into the lobby. They wanted $10 p/p entry. There was nothing showing to entice us to pay it; it seemed it may have been repetitive of Te Papa in Wellington. 

The ferry ride to Devonport was only a half hour and included on our pass. It was a delightful ride, but Devonport itself is charming. A lovely beach rings the edge; a shell collectors’ delight, so I had to restrain myself yet again or I would have stuffed a suitcase.  Close to 7pm, the stores were still greeting the last minute tourists hoping they will temporarily forget arrogant airline regulations. We met with Margosia going for drinks at one restaurant. Later we moved on to another restaurant where she had heard they had a good reputation. The evening was delightful due to the company and the food. Reuniting with someone you have shared some brief memories and experiences with is a little bonus gift of traveling.

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The Party is Coming to an End

When you start approaching the end of the trails, you have bopped around from place to place, and you know you only have one night in a place, there is no real incentive to “do it” right. Alternatively, you want to avoid traveler’s remorse later when you think back to say “I really should have done this, that, or the other while I was in XYZ.” Whether you travel solo or with others, there is still someone to contend with, even if it is yourself.

Tonight, we fly from here in Dunedin to Auckland on Air New Zealand. What can we do that is not going to be painful, exhausting, or take up the entire day? The Cadbury factory has tours. Perfect, we book a tour, go for a coffee, and then to the factory. Anyone who has been to Hersey, PA or Oakdale, CA where there are Hersey factories may think they can pass this one by. Not so! Although now owned by the British company, the factory was started by a local NZ, went through a number of incarnations and then was bought out by Cadbury.

There is a multiple room visitor’s center where you are allowed to roam before and after your tour. Here you will see the history of chocolate as well as that of the factory. Most displays are animated to attract the attention of children as w ell as adults. Pictures are allowed throughout here, but nothing is allowed once on the tour. Not only did we have to store our bags, but also our watches, jewelry, cameras, plus we had to don head coverings and for the men with facial hair there were special “snout” masks. Julia, our guide was lively and full of information; each of us was given a plastic bag with a candy bar. We were instructed to carry it on the tour. 

The disappointing part was that different parts of the factory tour, the machines had either just finished a batch of product or was closed down for maintenance. One example was the Easter chocolates. They had just finished production the day before. They make ten Easter bunnies for every person in NZ and sell out every season. That is forty-five million Easter products. Seasonal items are for the NZ market only and the chocolate has a fifty-two week shelf life. This was disappointing to children and adults combined. We wanted to see the full process. As we went along, Julia asked quizzing questions for which we were rewarded with different Cadbury products. Outside they had some of the old Ford trucks that were actually used by the company early on for milk and product delivery.

The train station in town is old, historic, and looks like a gingerbread building. The tiles and stained glass inside are worth a look. They run a number of scenic train trips day trips or longer. One of the trains was in the station; it didn’t look much different than what we had been on, but the scenery may have been magnificent. I love train trips like this.

We went to the Museum of Art. They offer free admission. The collection is quite eclectic with modern mixed with a smattering of classical styles. With our flight not getting into Auckland until after 10pm, we stopped at the grocery store for an early dinner. Most grocery stores have the prepared and hot roasted chickens, which has been a staple of our diet. With a couple of salads, we had the makings of a picnic. One of the salads was a mix of kumara and apricot with penne pasta. The other was pumpkin sesame.

Those last hours between not having enough time to do anything and nothing really special to do, we sat around the hostel waiting for the airport shuttle. At least it gave me time to write, sort pictures, catching up on neglected things. 

It seemed like we were never going to arrive at the airport. Driving around for what seemed like forever, I kept wondering how long they will hold a flight for those with paid for seats. I did not realize the other two in the shuttle were on our flight. They were Aussies, but did not seem at all concerned. Checking in was a breeze, because there was only one person ahead of us. Still having the emotional attachment to the extra suitcase, it came along. What I had read on the Air NZ website was that it would cost us NZ$10. It seemed for moments we were going to get away with it for free. The three carry-on sized bags were less than 44 kilos, the allotment. No, the agent asked for a NZ$20 bill without any sign of friendliness. What happened to this laid back country? I didn’t have the energy to fight with him over what their website said, so paid it, but asked about the international flight since the first part is with Air NZ. Well, isn’t this special for this part of the international ride home, it will be NZ$75. 

Well so much for sentiment; this bag is getting lost really soon. There really is no place to store it at home anyway, but I have traveled with it for over seventeen years and it has seen many countries. It is like putting an old animal companion out of its misery, with the exception that it has years of life still, so maybe someone can make use of it.

Flying from Dunedin to Auckland was only 1 ¼ hours, so they served snacks. We had a choice of air puffed veggie chips or dried fruit pieces. When they announced this, we thought we misheard what they said. Within minutes of arrival, the airport was like they had done evacuation procedures; there was not a soul around. Ron’s bag was the last to come out on the belt; the belt chugged along empty of cargo, stretching for what seemed like miles, before eventually his bag appeared, looking lonesome and afraid of abandonment. Had it not shown, there was no one around to whom to complain. A call to the hostel, they said to call this particular taxi company. A ride will cost us NZ$35. Calling from the mobile did not work, because they have a toll free number, which does not work with mobiles. We had to find a pay phone. They are few and well hidden.

The taxi, not being authorized, had to meet us away from the taxi stands. When we were on our way, the meter was running like it was competing in a marathon. The regular taxis quoted us at $60, but this meter was quickly approaching that. Why we were taking all of these back roads was beyond me; the only conclusion was to beef up the meter. By 11:15pm we finally arrived at the hostel. With a meter illuminatingly brilliant numerals showing $54.60, the “we have been had” feeling was rising to my temporal region. Just as it was reaching the peak, the driver turned around and said “That will be NZ$35.00 thank you.” Relief, regret, resignation about running to unfounded conclusions.

It is really interesting to me that everywhere you go, when you buy something, they will tell you the amount followed by thank you. “That will be $29.50, thank you.” Then you give them the money, if they need to give you change or not, they say thank you again. Quite civilized. Thank yous are used on buses too. Each time someone disembarks from a bus they say thank you to the driver. If they get off of the back door, they make sure to yell it so the driver can hear it. 

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Dunedin is C-H-O-C-O-L-A-T-E-L-Y Rich

When you start approaching the end of the trails, you have bopped around from place to place, and you know you only have one night in a place, there is no real incentive to “do it” right. Alternatively, you want to avoid traveler’s remorse later when you think back to say “I really should have done this, that, or the other while I was in XYZ.” Whether you travel solo or with others, there is still someone to contend with, even if it is yourself.

Tonight, we fly from here in Dunedin to Auckland on Air New Zealand. What can we do that is not going to be painful, exhausting, or take up the entire day? The Cadbury factory has tours. Perfect, we book a tour, go for a coffee, and then to the factory. Anyone who has been to Hersey, PA or Oakdale, CA where there are Hersey factories may think they can pass this one by. Not so! Although now owned by the British company, the factory was started by a local NZ, went through a number of incarnations and then was bought out by Cadbury.
 

There is a multiple room visitor’s center where you are allowed to roam before and after your tour. Here you will see the history of chocolate as well as that of the factory. Most displays are animated to attract the attention of children as w ell as adults. Pictures are allowed throughout here, but nothing is allowed once on the tour. Not only did we have to store our bags, but also our watches, jewelry, cameras, plus we had to don head coverings and for the men with facial hair there were special “snout” masks. Julia, our guide was lively and full of information; each of us was given a plastic bag with a candy bar. We were instructed to carry it on the tour. 

The disappointing part was that different parts of the factory tour, the machines had either just finished a batch of product or was closed down for maintenance. On the bright side, we had a demon spawn on the tour who managed to raise the ire of a seemingly unflappable tour guide. No parent came to intervene. These are the children every teacher dreads. At the end of the tour, we assured the guide she was a saint for handling the child as she did. She said in all her years touring, this was the worst kid she has ever had.

One example was the Easter chocolates. They had just finished production the day before. They make ten Easter bunnies for every person in NZ and sell out every season. That is forty-five million Easter products. Seasonal items are for the NZ market only and the chocolate has a fifty-two week shelf life. This was disappointing to children and adults combined. We wanted to see the full process. As we went along, Julia asked quizzing questions for which we were rewarded with different Cadbury products. Outside they had some of the old Ford trucks that were actually used by the company early on for milk and product delivery.
 

The train station in town is old, historic, and looks like a gingerbread building. The tiles and stained glass inside are worth a look. They run a number of scenic train trips day trips or longer. One of the trains was in the station; it didn’t look much different than what we had been on, but the scenery may have been magnificent. I love train trips like this.
 

The Museum of Art offers free admission and was recommended, so we ventured over. The collection is quite eclectic with modern mixed with a smattering of classical styles. With our flight not getting into Auckland until after 10pm, we stopped at the grocery store for an early dinner. Most grocery stores have the prepared and hot roasted chickens, which has been a staple of our diet. With a couple of salads, we had the makings of a picnic. One of the salads was a mix of kumara and apricot with penne pasta. The other was pumpkin sesame.

Those last hours between not having enough time to do anything and nothing really special to do, we sat around the hostel waiting for the airport shuttle. At least it gave me time to write, sort pictures, catching up on neglected things.
 

It seemed like we were never going to arrive at the airport. Driving around for what seemed like forever, I kept wondering how long they will hold a flight for those with paid for seats. I did not realize the other two in the shuttle were on our flight. They were Aussies, but did not seem at all concerned. Checking in was a breeze, because there was only one person ahead of us. Still having the emotional attachment to the extra suitcase, it came along. What I had read on the Air NZ website was that it would cost us NZ$10. It seemed for moments we were going to get away with it for free. The three carry-on sized bags were less than 44 kilos, the allotment. No, the agent asked for a NZ$20 bill without any sign of friendliness. What happened to this laid back country? I didn’t have the energy to fight with him over what their website said, so paid it, but asked about the international flight since the first part is with Air NZ. Well, isn’t this special for this part of the international ride home, it will be NZ$75. Well so much for sentiment; this bag is getting lost really soon. There really is no place to store it at home anyway, but I have traveled with it for over seventeen years and it has seen many countries. It is like putting an old animal companion out of its misery, with the exception that it has years of life still, so maybe someone can make use of it.

Flying from Dunedin to Auckland was only 1 ¼ hours, so they served snacks. We had a choice of air puffed veggie chips or dried fruit pieces. When they announced this, we thought we misheard what they said. Within minutes of arrival, the airport was like they had done evacuation procedures; there was not a soul around. Ron’s bag was the last to come out on the belt; the belt chugged along empty of cargo, stretching for what seemed like miles, before eventually his bag appeared, looking lonesome and afraid of abandonment. Had it not shown, there was no one around to whom to complain. A call to the hostel, they said to call this particular taxi company. A ride will cost us NZ$35. Calling from the mobile did not work, because they have a toll free number, which does not work with mobiles. We had to find a pay phone. They are few and well hidden.

The taxi, not being authorized, had to meet us away from the taxi stands. When we were on our way, the meter was running like it was competing in a marathon. The regular taxis quoted us at $60, but this meter was quickly approaching that. Why we were taking all of these back roads was beyond me; the only conclusion was to beef up the meter. By 11:15pm we finally arrived at the hostel. With a meter illuminatingly brilliant numerals showing $54.60, the “we have been had” feeling was rising to my temporal region. Just as it was reaching the peak, the driver turned around and said “That will be NZ$35.00 thank you.” Relief, regret, resignation about running to unfounded conclusions.

It is really interesting to me that everywhere you go, when you buy something, they will tell you the amount followed by thank you. “That will be $29.50, thank you.” Then you give them the money, if they need to give you change or not, they say thank you again. Quite civilized. Thank yous are used on buses too. Each time someone disembarks from a bus they say thank you to the driver. If they get off of the back door, they make sure to yell it so the driver can hear it. 

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Welcome to Our House of Must Dews

Ron booked us in a bed and breakfast run by an older gay couple. The house is advertised as ‘remodeled’, but they did not include which century. D is much friendlier than B, perhaps because he is around more. However, the house looks like an antique shop that was hit by a tornado, but had a staff of male teenagers as housekeepers using the same skills they use for their bedrooms. Every nook and cranny is filled with collectibles, but amongst all of it sits everyday items like an ironing board covered with piles of laundry, stacks of towels, and magazines. There is enough dust one would need a hammer and chisel to write one’s name or “Dust Me” in it. UNBELIEVEABLE for a bed and breakfast. On a positive note, D did give us a pot of tea when we were settled in along with a plate of cookies. The positives were soon outweighed again or at least balanced. The whole house including our room has the worst musty smell ever. Since my sense of smell is hyper-sensitive, I can detect it immediately. Ron is oblivious.
Ron was under the impression this B and B was located downtown. It is if you take the twenty minute bus ride into consideration. We will worry about that tomorrow. After a three hour nap and showers, we ventured down the street for dinner. Not finding too much variety, we settled for a Middle Eastern restaurant that also served pizzas. At NZ$22 each, they were dear pizzas, but really with the stress of the luggage, and musty central, it was good to get out, use our leg muscles, walk, and take in as much non-allergenic air as possible before returning for the evening.

By the time we returned, it was 9:30 pm local time and we were ready for bed, but not before meeting their three Irish Water Spaniels: grandmother, mother, and daughter. They bred and showed them. The “girls” live here with Jack, a random mouthy little dog that we have barely glimpsed. From the quick shot, I would say he is a long haired dachshund. Our luggage has not arrived and there has been no word about it. The heck with it; I am too tired to worr...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

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What Day Is It? Where Am I? What International Dateline?

Arriving in Tokyo, we had a 6 ½ hours lay-over before the next flight. They immediately sent us from one terminal to the other where our flight was to leave from. God knows why when there were 6 ½ hours to waste; I did not see why there was a rush. We thought we would check out the Diners Club lounge, but it was outside of the secured area. We would have to go through Customs and Passport Control to reach it. That let that option out. Being a major airport, there was not a lot to do. There were no coffee shops, only two restaurants that happened to serve coffee and a half dozen or so shops, most were duty free. Finding vacant rows of chairs, we joined the others who sprawled across multiple seats and napped.

When it was finally time to board, they told us they needed to change our boarding passes. We thought we had hit the lottery again with an upgrade, but no such luck. Still in economy, the seats were cramped. This leg was an Air New Zealand flight. Again the service was excellent, but the seating tight making a 10 hour forty-five minute flight seem like it was much longer. This was not the end of our travels yet. Once landing in Christ Church, we had an hour to get out and wait before taking off again for Auckland.

Reaching Auckland would have been a wonderful experience had our luggage arrived, but it was nowhere to be found. We had to put in a claim with hopes it will show up tomorrow. I am wondering how many of those who went as far as Tokyo with us had to file claims. There were others on our Tokyo to Auckland flight also filing claims.

Here is a recap of the trip so far. Budapest to Munich – 2 hour flight, rush on to the next plane. Munich to Tokyo – 11 hour flight, upgraded to business class. Tokyo 6 ½ hours wait time for the next flight. Tokyo to Christ Church 10 hours 50 minutes. Wait time in Christ Church 1 hour, Reboard. Christ Church to Auckland 1 hour 50 minutes. One nice thing about Air New Zealand is that the plane had individual monitors, which you could start before the plane ever leaves the ground and continues until you reach the destination gate. Regardless, tired are we servants to traipsing the world in search of beauty, history, or nature.

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Kiwi Adventures Begin Here

Checking with the Lufthansa website, our flight was going to be forty minutes late. There was no sense in sitting at the airport longer than needed, so we called the shuttle service to ask if we could delay our pick-up. They gave us an additional thirty minute grace period to sit around and wait at home. Now that we had the extra unplanned time, we weren’t sure what to do with it. Now, I have to brag. We are leaving for 33 days and our luggage consists of one carry-on suitcase each, and one backpack each. My backpack holds my netbook computer, my camera, the extra telephoto lens, my phone, and all of the cords needed to maintain the electric and charge the batteries of the above. 

When they came for us, there was only a single rider in the van. Yet, it took them over an hour to get us to the airport. The last pick-up was on the border of Slovakia or so it seemed. We drove forever.  Once we arrived, we then had to wait twenty minutes for her to get to the van; this made me reconsider our decision to take this later shuttle. Once full, our first stop was Ferihegy I to drop off two people. We were no sooner on the road again, when suddenly the driver turned around and returned back to Ferhegy I to pick up another passenger. My stomach knots were telling my headache, this is punishment for changing the shuttle times.

Once at the airport, all thoughts of tons of time for hanging around flew out faster than any jet or the line we were in. The airport was so crowded, it looked like the entire city was evacuating. We were able to get our boarding passes from the self-check in machines for Budapest to Munich and Munich to Tokyo, but not beyond. Lufthansa only had three desks open: one only for 1st and Business class. Even when she was not busy, she refused to take any other travelers. With the flight delayed by forty minutes, it was still a dubious situation whether we were going to make it or not. Both Lufthansa and Air New Zealand have strict policies on carry-on luggage. We could take on the carry-on suitcase or the backpacks, but not both. Needless to say, the carry-ons were checked. As luck would have it it turned out we did with a bit of time to spare. The Duna Lounge has just been added to the Diners Club list of lounges, but we have been rejected in lounges in the past since our, cards are American Diners Club, not international ones. We tested the waters and received warm welcomes and free drinks with snacks.

Almost everyone on the plane had reason for concern since we left Budapest late. Still we were lucky. The flights to London, Paris and Frankfurt were all completely cancelled; at least we made it out. About 1/3 of us were going on to Tokyo and another 1/3 was headed to San Francisco. It did not seem to be many stopping in Munich. Both groups were fearful of missing our connections. There was no time to spare. We waited longer on the runway than usual once we landed, only to have our gate changed when we arrived. They had to bus us to the terminal; our late arrival caused our plane to lose its gate. I mentioned to Ron that the bus was filled with Asians, so perhaps they were going to Tokyo also, which may make Lufthansa hold the plane.

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Fly Air New Zealand

I am uncertain what the point is that they are trying to make with this, but it would certainly get my attention during the safety routine review. I just wonder how many flight attendant call buttons would need replacing after being used and abused if they pulled this off for real. Fun idea regardless.

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