To New Zealand... barely.

Wednesday, July 18

Today started like any nice resort vacation should. We slept in. Here is our room:

As this was a Sheraton resort where Stephen is considered to have a God-status given his years of staying in Starwood-owned hotels, we had a free all-you-can-eat breakfast that easily trumped all previous breakfasts. A few highlights include soy milk for my cereal, eggs benedict with hollandaise sauce, glazed bananas with passionfruit, TWO types of hashbrowns, as well as your standard omelette station, waffle station, miso soup station, pastry and fruit bars, and some toast. We spent over an hour slowly eating our way through the whole buffet. :) Here is the restaurant we ate through:

Today was the first real day our only plan was to relax. Good preparation for the stressful evening ahead (we didn't know we was coming). After breakfast, we decided we should go for a walk. A whole boardwalk later, we came upon a gazebo that looked out on a small bird "sanctuary". Here is the gazebo:

We stood for over a half hour watching all the different birds. We counted at least 9 ducks, 21 seagulls, numerous doves, a half dozen long billed, white and black feathered birds (that we think are super intriguing, but native Australians revere the same as pigeons) - here's their picture that we captured in Sydney:

There was also one giant, somewhat angry swan - though here it looks rather pleasant.

We watched them swim, chase each other, look longingly at us for handouts, and despite the nice ramp seen above, we saw many make the leap (and failed leaps) from the edge into the pool. It was amusing and we had nowhere to be.

Over the next few hours, we blogged, we packed up, we checked out, and decided to have a final drink at the bar. With a 7:15pm flight, we decided to head for the airport around 4:30, with the plan to take the bus on a direct route to the airport (ETA 5:37pm) as the shuttle service was only 15 minutes faster and four times the cost. If only it was that simple.

It began by me writing down the wrong bus number and Stephen's misappropriated blind faith in me. Oops. No worries though, there was a later bus 10 minutes later that we could catch. However, it was a different number and we had to try to capitalize on the hotel's wireless (from the bus station) to see what the new route would be. It required 3 buses, but we were not worried, as it would still get us in at 5:57pm.We figured it out, got on the bus, told the bus driver where we were going, and three stops later, got off to wait for our 2nd of 3 buses. It was due to arrive at 4:53pm. By 5pm, the second bus still had not arrived and we were worried about making the second connection to the third bus. At this time we also realized that as this was an INTERNATIONAL flight, we might need to be at the airport more than one hour before take-off. Oops again. At this point, we thought maybe a cab might be the right answer. However, we could not hail one. Instead, we took the number off the side of one driving by and Stephen called the company, only to realize, we didn't know where we were for a pickup.

Good news, at 5:03, our bus showed up. We told the driver the stop we wanted and he looked at us like we were idiots. We acknowledged that, but got on anyway. The next half hour, my heart rate was about 200bpm while Stephen tried to read the bus stop signs in the fading light and ultimate darkness trying to see the stop we needed. By 5:45, I made Stephen go talk to the bus driver about the stop we needed to make our final connection. At this point, both the connection and the implications of an international flight were bearing down on us. The bus driver told him the connection was a bad idea. His plan was to drop us off at a later stop and have us walk to the airport. By the way, it was now raining. Great plan.

By 5:50, the bus driver pulled over and told us to get off and walk "that way". Its now dark, raining, and we have no idea how long this walk is going to be. So, we turned in the direction Stephen thought the bus driver pointed in and started walking.

Luckily, we saw airport signs almost immediately after crossing the street. Seven minutes later, we were in the main terminal. Fortunately, flying out of a small airport made this possible (most major airports are a few miles between the airport entrance and the main terminal building). You'd think the stressful part would be over, but you'd be wrong.

While we did make it to the counter over an hour before take-off (seven whole minutes), the woman behind the counter asked for our visas. What? Visas? You don't need those to get to New Zealand. Turns out, you just need documentation proving you will return from your visit. We did have our "itineraries" - basically, a list of our flights, but no documentation. Oops one more time.

Thank goodness our flight to New Zealand and our flight back to Australia (which covered four different airports) were with the same airline. The woman was able to check us in, and then proceeded to tell me (and only me) that next time, I need to print copies of all of our flight information and that this time, I just happened to be very fortunate. Stephen stood there smiling and nodding along in agreement.

And resume breathing. Things finally started to get better. We found out that our flight was delayed an hour (making us 2 hours early for the flight) and therefore, we were getting complimentary food/drink coupons. If this happened in the States, we decided Stephen would either be an alcoholic or three hundred pounds for all the delayed flights he has seen. The security line was a breeze - we were the only people in it. We then got some food and hung out in a bookstore to pass the time - and do some last minute New Zealand reading.

You have to love Australia - not only do you go through customs to enter the country, you get to go through them to leave the country too. No worries though - quick and painless for us. We finally got on the plane, which was so empty, we had an entire row to ourselves (both sides of the aisle, seats A through F). We spent the plane ride playing cards and trying to tune out the incredibly loud snoring man sprawled out one row behind us.

By 1am New Zealand time (2 hours ahead of Australia), we landed, got to go through customs again (declaring all of our Clif bars), and hopped in a cab. For $30, we drove 2 miles and 5 minutes to our room for the night. It wasn't picture worthy, but it had a bed. It also had a fan that looked like it would fly off the ceiling and chop us in to little pieces every time we turned it on. We left it off for the night and passed out.