We're up and we're off, leaving the hostel just after 8 and trudge [with all possessions] into town. We do a spot more journalling -- I only manage a couple of particularly verbose days but do manage to pour coffee down my front. Mark, our host in Sydney, and old friend from University who came out here yonks ago and is now an Aussie citizen, has asked us to hug a giant English Elm in the city [Christchurch]. Sadly, my identification of the Elm is by the white splodge of paint that says "this tree's diseased" and the Christchurch Elms are disease free. We see lots of big trees on the way to the airport but don't ask the driver to stop.
Christchurch International isn't the largest airport in the world but it's clean and seems to function reasonably well. For us anyway, after we'd checked in, three hours early, the once empty queue was chocked with people spilling everywhere. Air New Zealand needs to sort itself out to avoid these things. A large Quantas 747 lands bringing the airport to life followed by several teeny little Air NZ planes that look as though they should park at the aero club on the far side of the airport. Big engines on little planes that remind you of the stubby toy planes you can buy for kids.
A mesmerisingly poor "dinner" [on the plane] where the chicken "main" was a single two inch square piece of chicken tikka on the plate next to the horrid salad starter. During the second "bottle" of wine it became more palatable.
Mark met us at the airport, his unmistakeable cherubic features beaming out from the throng awaiting our arrival. A short drive through the twisty turns of south Sydney to his flat in Bronte [Bronte is the next bay round from the better known Bondi]. Tea is fish and chips at the beach at the bottom of the hill. The fish and chip shop has a long and slow queue at the end of which you get a pager so you can wander back to the beach while your food is being prepared. Mark generously brought some wine including a sparkling red, which seemed to have been a threat of his for some time and wasn't that bad. A few more bottles of wine later, we retired.
Chez Mark, Sydney S33.90526 E151.26016 Elev. 72m
Copyright 2003 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.