[I'm playing catch-up with my blog entries, because I've been staying in tiny fishing villages in which the internet is as yet an unknown quantity. This post is therefore, almost magically, dated last week instead of this.]

The first thing I notice when I arrive at Auckland airport, is that New Zealanders talk funny. I knew this already, of course, because you see the odd Kiwi wandering around Melbourne. But somehow it has much more impact when there are a lot of people talking funny. The first New Zealander I spoke to, other than Immigration Guy (”Enjoy New Zilland”) was a girl working in McDonalds in the airport. Normally I’d avoid eating at McDonalds, but it was the nearest source of food, and I was still hungry despite the airline breakfast. I tried to pay for my food with a New Zealand fifty dollar note, which the girl looked at doubtfully before asking, “Uzthitfuftydollars?” “Excuse me?” I said. “Uz-thit-fufty-dollars?” “Oh, I see - it is indeed fifty dollars”, I told her. Having confirmed that it was in fact fifty dollars, and that it was OK to accept New Zilland fufty dollar notes in New Zilland, she gave me my change.

So flushed with success at my first dealings with the locals, I boarded the airport shuttle bus into the city. My first impression of Auckland was the air - very fresh and clean - and the green, hilly countryside. It was just like in every commercial for New Zealand products ever made, in fact. The journey to the YHA took about 50 minutes, and the bus stopped right outside the hostel, so I dumped my bags and set off to explore the city. The hostel was just off Queen Street at the top of a steep hill (which seems to be the case for 90% of YHA hostels). This didn’t bother me too much on my way into the city, and when I reached the city centre I stopped at a coffee shop to read my guide to Auckland. Briefly - for at least five seconds - I contemplated doing the Coast-to-Coast walk, which started at Auckland Harbour. According to my guidebook, this is “the best way to see Auckland”, and it would take a mere four hours. But I decided against it - I was, after all, exhausted from my flight and jetlagged from the two hour time difference. So I meandered down to the harbour and sat in the sun instead, for it was a beautiful and breezy Auckland spring day.

After a couple more hours exploring the city streets, I walked back to the hostel. I stopped at a second-hand bookshop reccommended by my guidebook on the way, to buy a copy of Katherine Mansfield’s short stories. Visiting her birthplace at Tinakori Road in Wellington is one of my Things To Do on this trip, so I thought I’d re-read some of her stories beforehand. (Another of my Things To Do is a visit to Kare Kare beach west of Auckland, the inspiration for Crowded House’s album Together Alone). Then I trudged up the hill to the hostel, which as always seemed a lot steeper on the way back.