Oh
dear. A blank bloggy page. Such a long time since I did this but tis
important to keep the waiting world appraised of my travels. Or maybe
apprised. I never know which. One seems something like a word that a
real estate agent would use (as opposed to the artificial estate agents,
but I digress already), and the other like something jammed in a door. I
will go with the agency one.
I climbed aboard the silver bird on high last night in Auckland and oh joy was upgraded to premium economy, which mean I could stretch my not very long legs right to the back of the seat in front. I did not sit next to a large person, nor a smelly one, and watched The Book Thief (cried only twice) and a Sherlock episode. I can't believe someone will want to know this, but apparently the world is so large that somewhere in the world someone will, so I am telling you now. Is it you?
I attach a photo of my adventure. Unfortunately I forgot to take a photo of my seat, so here is one of a forest at Raglan instead, just next to Mr and Mrs Blue's house, aka Lynne and Mike. Mike can play the guitar. He is very famous in Raglan, and Lynne can sing and play the flute. She is also famous. If you know them say hello from me. Oh - that was exciting - I just got the photo to move to the left of the page, but every time I write something it slips down a little. Bother.
Oh - just worked out how to write below a line. You have to put the line in first.
I am in the Koru lounge at LAX, which is travel-speak for The American airport on the west coast of the US of A that everyone has to go through to get anywhere useful. Life aboard the plane was pleasant enough, but on arrival at the US of A we were greeted by A Cathay Pacific girl wearing an Air NZ uniform, which was very confusing. I asked her what to do next, as usually we are just told what to do in the US of A, but this time we were all left to our own devices (all puns intended). It was frightening. There were two queues everywhere I looked, and lots of fierce looking people of all weird shapes and sizes. I joined one queue, then another, the changed my mind, and eventually found myself getting my pisspot stamped and welcomed to the US of A. Too late I thought, but pressed on to have my laptop and shoes inspected, my body photographed (they were not satisfied with my finger and thumb prints, and eye photos), and then my money pouch inspected. I admit, I do look a little like a spy/national threat/sweet little old lady. A nice couple of Maori girls led the way. They were easy to follow as there are not a lot of Maoris here, and they had ample bottoms, but not unattractively so.
It is raining in London apparently. This is not good news, and I have to collect a very small car (providing I can provide all the right paperwork, which is always a worry), plug in Francoise my French GPS, and navigate to Sally and Jacques Hilton at Hove. Wish me luck. More later.
There aren't many people here - I had better go. Something is not right I fear.....
I climbed aboard the silver bird on high last night in Auckland and oh joy was upgraded to premium economy, which mean I could stretch my not very long legs right to the back of the seat in front. I did not sit next to a large person, nor a smelly one, and watched The Book Thief (cried only twice) and a Sherlock episode. I can't believe someone will want to know this, but apparently the world is so large that somewhere in the world someone will, so I am telling you now. Is it you?
I attach a photo of my adventure. Unfortunately I forgot to take a photo of my seat, so here is one of a forest at Raglan instead, just next to Mr and Mrs Blue's house, aka Lynne and Mike. Mike can play the guitar. He is very famous in Raglan, and Lynne can sing and play the flute. She is also famous. If you know them say hello from me. Oh - that was exciting - I just got the photo to move to the left of the page, but every time I write something it slips down a little. Bother.
Oh - just worked out how to write below a line. You have to put the line in first.
I am in the Koru lounge at LAX, which is travel-speak for The American airport on the west coast of the US of A that everyone has to go through to get anywhere useful. Life aboard the plane was pleasant enough, but on arrival at the US of A we were greeted by A Cathay Pacific girl wearing an Air NZ uniform, which was very confusing. I asked her what to do next, as usually we are just told what to do in the US of A, but this time we were all left to our own devices (all puns intended). It was frightening. There were two queues everywhere I looked, and lots of fierce looking people of all weird shapes and sizes. I joined one queue, then another, the changed my mind, and eventually found myself getting my pisspot stamped and welcomed to the US of A. Too late I thought, but pressed on to have my laptop and shoes inspected, my body photographed (they were not satisfied with my finger and thumb prints, and eye photos), and then my money pouch inspected. I admit, I do look a little like a spy/national threat/sweet little old lady. A nice couple of Maori girls led the way. They were easy to follow as there are not a lot of Maoris here, and they had ample bottoms, but not unattractively so.
It is raining in London apparently. This is not good news, and I have to collect a very small car (providing I can provide all the right paperwork, which is always a worry), plug in Francoise my French GPS, and navigate to Sally and Jacques Hilton at Hove. Wish me luck. More later.
There aren't many people here - I had better go. Something is not right I fear.....
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