I was thrilled back in November when we flew over Laos and saw the green, untouched landscape stretch for miles below. Flying into Queenstown was even more of a treat, in my opinion. You are struck with the sublime in a second; the sharp and pointy peaks, their towering height above sea level, the way the mountainsides drop so steeply into crevices below - the aptly named ‘Remarkables’ are a magnificent sight.
Ironically, our one and only flight with Quantas
on our Quantas Round The World Ticket!
And yes, we managed to get the trolleys aboard!
Before Luang Prabang in Laos, neither of us had landed in an airport so small that the pilot takes his passengers directly to the door and waits for them to get off before taxi-ing round to his parking spot. We had this very same experience upon our arrival in the beautiful Queenstown. We landed on a runway surrounded by these harsh, rugged mountains and it was a spectacular experience.
No staff in hiking boots, calf-high socks, multi-pocketed shorts, ranger shirts and cowboy hats were to greet us upon arrival as they did in Oz. Instead, a lady from Huddersfield (!!) stood in Duty Free selling the wine and spirits deals. Very bizarre to meet a Northerner as soon as I landed in this tiny airport. We were then questioned by immigration about where our hiking boots had trodden before they were inspected for mud and grime; our little-used bodyboards were also placed under interrogation. They're very worried about viruses and diseases entering New Zealand that may affect the native bushland and ecosystems and apparently, had we used our bodyboards in Victoria, they would have had to be sterilised/confiscated.
We were tired when we arrived - a result of having to be at Melbourne airport for 4.45am - and I’m hoping to use this as an excuse for my mahooosive faux-pas whilst at the luggage carousel collecting our bags.
On hearing the announcement, “Would Mr Moore please meet a member of the JetStar staff at the Chicken Counter?”, my typically Steph reaction was to speak my thoughts aloud - very aloud.
“Ha! The chicken counter? Why would they send him there? I know this airport is small, but seriously... the chicken counter? You'd think they'd have a reception of sorts...”
No reaction but a muffled guffaw from an exhausted Christophe and a few forced smiles from surrounding passengers who had looked over as I said this.
I honestly declare that I did not realise this was merely an accent thing. I was certainly not mocking the Kiwis for having muddled their vowel sounds. Of course, the passenger was being directed to the CHECK-IN counter (OBVIOUSLY!!!). Chris thought I had mocked the accent but no, I was merely extremely tired and thus... stupid. How funny it would be though to meet passengers at a chicken counter! This was a nice image in my sleepy head.
Anyhow. It seems that as a result of the muddled vowel sounds, for the next eight weeks while we are in New Zealand we are Christened:
Stiff end Chrus.
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