Auckland arrival
"Ladies and gentlemen, we're arriving at Auckland airport of New Zealand. Welcome to Aotearoa.", - only thing I could discern from crackling and spitting sounds made over airplane speakers.
The plane chassis hit the ground and made my whole body jolt. I have finally arrived. Swiping the piece of paper given me by stewardess I pulled my backpack from luggage compartment and stood in the slow-moving line to get out of an aircraft.
My mind still could not accept the fact that I am finally here after long and exhausting thirty-three hour flight. My conscious was hazy, but started to clear as blood finally rushed into my legs.
Standing in a line for a passport control I was frantically trying to connect to airport WiFi and message my friend Andrew, saying that I have arrived and that I will see him in a minute (or sixty).
After about half an hour sudden realization hit me. Everyone was standing in the line holding a piece of paper that was suspiciously familiar. It was a travel card that you were supposed to fill before your arrival, stating your duration and purpose of stay. Slapping myself on the forehead I began frantically searching my pockets for the piece of paper I took with me leaving the board of the aircraft. It wasn't there.
Swearing under my breath I took a humiliating backtrack through half of the line to get a new one on the counter. Filling the form as quickly as I can and stuffing the piece of paper into the pocket I returned to the back of the line.
The passport control officer glanced over my travel card, my visa, stamped a date on my passport and welcomed me to the country with a smile. Friendly smiles of people was the first out of many things that I immediately loved about the New Zealand.
I met Andrew at the exit. He was smiling too. Offering to carry some of my luggage he inquired about my flight. I told him about my poor experience in Istanbul airport, where any employee mumbled something indistinctly vague on my question in English. How lovely and accommodating were staff in Seoul.
We were driving to my temporary accommodation - a hotel provided by the company. Second half of the trip was mostly me listening to Andrew about how life in New Zealand is, watching outside car window in awe.
The raindrops started to cover the windscreen by the time we arrived at our destination. When I was pulling my luggage into hotel lobby the sky was already a grey mass of clouds, slowly moving and showering everything in sight with light misty drizzle.
As the room provided to me was filled with all my belongings I went to check the time on my phone. It was dead. Looking at the power outlet I felt my heart drop - I didn't account for New Zealand sockets and didn't bring any power converters. Fighting the urge to just drop dead on my giant fluffy bed I dressed and went out in the rain to look for place to eat and rectify my shortsightedness.
I had to walk about a kilometer in a warm shower of giant raindrops to the nearest mall. Had a breakfast at McD (with free refills on drinks no less), wandered around the shops and bought a socket converter for 24 NZD (12€) and a kilogram of yogurt for dinner (6 NZD or 3€).
Walking back I had a lunch and burger place (thank God for free refills, realsies) and visited a bank for an appointment to open an account.
In the end my only regret was that I didn't go barefoot and wearing my shorts. It seemed like a fashion statement of that time in New Zealand.
I really do need to take after these lovely people.