I haven't even really been here very long. I spent the first night here in a cheap motel in Auckland run by an Indian family. They were lovely and it was reasonable for the price, but it was definitely not a place that inspired rest. Early the next morning a shuttle driven by a woman named Ngaia took me to Hamilton and I disgraced myself by falling asleep. Fortunately, I am both a discreet and fetching sleeper. I was deposited at the AsureQuality office and met with Byron and chatted a bit over some needed coffee. Drip coffee this time. Kiwis apparently aren't as picky about their coffee as the Aussies. We drove over to the Plant and Food Research Apicultural division and I met Byron's wife Michelle who works on varroa-resistant bees and her boss Mark who gave me his opinion on everything bee-related and un-bee-related, particularly Australia, USA, and why New Zealand is superior to those countries.
I had almost run out of brain power by the time we got back to AsureQuality. I was ready to go to bed, but I still had a 4 hour drive to Napier ahead of me. Byron kindly drove me to the Airport to pick up my car and reminded me about the unique Kiwi road rules such as no left on red and yield to oncoming right-turners when you're taking a left. They love the roundabout in this country, too. Every intersection spins you like a merry-go-round, exits shooting off the center circle like so many bicycle-wheel spokes.
I got on the road by 4pm, driving an exceedingly cheap Australian-made car. I found out that the kiwi definition of "highway" apparently is "lonely two-lane track through nowhere." So strange to drive so far without the comforting presence of other drivers. I guess that’s what I feel like I’m doing here- striking out on my own despite the fact that I don’t really know anyone in this country, don’t know if I can get a job in this country, don’t know where I’m going in this country on this little highway in the dark. No one driving my way to encourage me, to say, “Yup, you’re going the right way!” Strange stars hang in the sky as I stop to take a look around in the dark. They are useless to navigate by. But I see a shooting star, and think, with a sigh, that it’s not a bad road that I’m on anyway.
I arrive after some delay finding my hotel in Napier. The hotel manager offers me "trim milk" and a newspaper. Then he has me park my car in a tiny little spot on the corner of the hotel. He crosses my own personal courtyard and opens big French windows to a small efficiency apartment, complete with mini-range, mini-fridge, mini-bar with mini-stools, mini-sink, mini-cupboards, mini-microwave, mini-tv, etc. He stashes the milk in the fridge for me and bids me goodnight. Everything in my room is tastefully selected from Ikea. Clean, simple, warmly well-lit. I open the door to the bathroom and I am greeted by a large, lavatorial refuge, soothing colors, a new shower, and multiple mirrors. There are premium soaps. There is an abundance of nice towels. I am in heaven. Then I walk out and notice that there is something hanging from the side of the bed. The controls for my electric blanket. How far did I have to come for this? It doesn’t matter.
You're a courageous traveler. Hope you can stay there and get a job so we can come see you.
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