We had a ten hour overnight Qantas flight from Tokyo to Sydney, en route to Auckland, but arrived two hours and twenty minutes late due to volcanic activity over southern Japan. The in flight breakfast was good but that left less than ten minutes to make the Sydney to Auckland transfer, after we landed.
'Last call for passengers for LAN flight QF101 Syndey to Auckland' blared the women over the tannoy, the minute we had disembarked from the Tokyo flight.
'Yes, Clare and Tim, that does mean you..... AND WE ARE WAITING!' it might have said but I couldn't hear for the sound of yelps and curses in my wake as I trampled over fellow passengers.
Her voice was replaced by the Mission Impossible theme as, following the directions of someone who purported to know what they were talking about, we ran headlong through the terminal. Caught in our own Hollywood bomb plot countdown movie, we dodged panes of glass, hurdled luggage trollies and sent hapless bystanders sprawling to the concourse floor as we hurtled toward the departure gate.
In the wrong direction.
Discovering that we were 500m further away from the correct gate than before we started, with the clock counting remorselessly down to zero, we turned around and desperately retraced our steps.
Our antics attracted the attention of the gate staff and one beetled across and trotted alongside us.
'Is it the red wire or the green wire; we don't know which?' she said, as she handed us the wire cutters. 'And don't forget to de-activate the mercury switch'.
'Arrrgghhhh!!'
Detonation avoided, we made the flight. It turns out LAN is a South American Airline. To prove the point, our second breakfast in under an hour was Emphadinhas de Palmito and came with a pleasant Chilean Merlot.
It was 8am for Christ's Sake!!
We caught the bus from the airport to Auckland city centre, walked around the harbour and had a beer on the water front.
After a long detour we walked to The Lantuna Hostel, voted New Zealand's 3rd best in 2009. Beyond the commercial district, it was in a picturesque part of town populated equally by plantation style weather-board houses with corrugated iron roofs, and post modern boxes with expansive double glazing and infinity pools.
I took a shower with a sliver of soap, under a water cannon at the hostel and dried off with the zip off bottoms of my trousers, as the wash kit, towel and all our possessions were still on another continent, having failed to make the transfer, despite the assurances of everyone we asked.
Late arrival on a hot night guaranteed us the top bunks but the beds were comfy and we slept well.
We feared that we had seen our luggage for the last time, without the chance to say proper goodbyes. Two days, and several calls to the Qantas lost luggage line later, it appeared.
At least we got two breakfasts.
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| The Maori Arch at Auckland Airport |
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| Fighting For a Seat on the Narita Airport Express! |
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| The First of Two Breakfasts. |
We had a ten hour overnight Qantas flight from Tokyo to Sydney, en route to Auckland, but arrived two hours and twenty minutes late due to volcanic activity over southern Japan. The in flight breakfast was good but that left less than ten minutes to make the Sydney to Auckland transfer, after we landed.
'Last call for passengers for LAN flight QF101 Syndey to Auckland' blared the women over the tannoy, the minute we had disembarked from the Tokyo flight.
'Yes, Clare and Tim, that does mean you..... AND WE ARE WAITING!' it might have said but I couldn't hear for the sound of yelps and curses in my wake as I trampled over fellow passengers.
Her voice was replaced by the Mission Impossible theme as, following the directions of someone who purported to know what they were talking about, we ran headlong through the terminal. Caught in our own Hollywood bomb plot countdown movie, we dodged panes of glass, hurdled luggage trollies and sent hapless bystanders sprawling to the concourse floor as we hurtled toward the departure gate.
In the wrong direction.
Discovering that we were 500m further away from the correct gate than before we started, with the clock counting remorselessly down to zero, we turned around and desperately retraced our steps.
Our antics attracted the attention of the gate staff and one beetled across and trotted alongside us.
'Is it the red wire or the green wire; we don't know which?' she said, as she handed us the wire cutters. 'And don't forget to de-activate the mercury switch'.
'Arrrgghhhh!!'
Detonation avoided, we made the flight. It turns out LAN is a South American Airline. To prove the point, our second breakfast in under an hour was Emphadinhas de Palmito and came with a pleasant Chilean Merlot.
It was 8am for Christ's Sake!!
We caught the bus from the airport to Auckland city centre, walked around the harbour and had a beer on the water front.
After a long detour we walked to The Lantuna Hostel, voted New Zealand's 3rd best in 2009. Beyond the commercial district, it was in a picturesque part of town populated equally by plantation style weather-board houses with corrugated iron roofs, and post modern boxes with expansive double glazing and infinity pools.
I took a shower with a sliver of soap, under a water cannon at the hostel and dried off with the zip off bottoms of my trousers, as the wash kit, towel and all our possessions were still on another continent, having failed to make the transfer, despite the assurances of everyone we asked.
Late arrival on a hot night guaranteed us the top bunks but the beds were comfy and we slept well.
We feared that we had seen our luggage for the last time, without the chance to say proper goodbyes. Two days, and several calls to the Qantas lost luggage line later, it appeared.
At least we got two breakfasts.
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