Left the sunshine coast fairly easily, despite having been woken up at stupid o’clock in the morning and then having to lug over 100kg’s of baggage around with me. (Red suitcase = 32.0kgs. Blue suitcase=29.3kgs. Backpack = 19kgs. Schoolbag Hand luggage = 24kgs. Not including any of Cyclone Joan’s stuff.)

This image is the last thing I saw of the Boathouse, through the back of Uncle Dave’s car. While it was nice in the air-conditioning, the Road-Trip gang will appreciate how hard it was to leave such bliss on such a damn hot morning. I even said goodbye to the bucket’o’bait that’s still in the garage.

Its surprising where one contemplates life. For me, this morning, it was with my pants around my ankles, staring at a welcome notice written in 19 different languages. One of the busiest places of an international airport - the loo’s. For the first time, I found a private corner (shared with 35 other people in their own private cubicles) to think about what was going on. This little squashed frog had taken all of her personal hang-ups, fuck-ups, phobias and habbits and moved them all to a different country. All of the insane messing around I had been doing for the past three days had finally paid off. Do you want to know how many phone-fights I had with Telstra, Vodafone, Energex and Commbank? No? Good, because I don’t want to tell you about it. Its over. I’m done. Get stuffed. Go jam it. Fuck off.

I’m free.

With a bit of a nutty grin, I pulled up my dacks, flushed the toilet and began a new chapter in my little Book of Life.

The drunken Samoan dude provided some in-flight entertainment and the poor little bus driver almost had a seizure when he saw how much crap we were dragging onto his bus. As you can see, I had quite a bit.

So, for all those who give a damn, we’ve both landed in Auckland safe and sound. We’re now checked into the backpackers accommodation which is right near the centre of town. Almost opposite Evil Santa, that beckons to little children with a crook of his wicked finger and a lilt of his scabby eye. Pure Evil, I tell you.

Now, it is my solomn duty to copy this file onto a floppy disk, take it downstairs and upload it while Cyclone is sleeping. Its been a big day, and she never got to sleep on the drive to Brisbane!

Anyhow, this is me waving at my reflection in the window at the Backpackers hostel. Yes, I know I'm a dork. But hey - I'm a dork in New Zealand, baby.