The backs of Bens ears were redder than his hair and the floor littered with bags, jumpers, boots and socks as we let our faces and feet breathe for the first time in days. The journey really wasn’t that bad, parts of it were quite pleasant: amazing food, brilliant staff and a helpful and easily understandable systems that was thorough enough to reassure your safety concerns. But my God that last 3 hours… OOF.
The first thing I cared about was washing the journey off of my body and giving my skin some TLC. As hot water filled the bathtub, I bit into an apple from the snack bag and collected my travel outfits:
#1 which was rolled up in my bag after a body wash and change of clothes in Singapore Airport.
#2 which was flung across the room in a desperate plea to let my skin breath upon arrival.
A laundry bag was designated and then I sunk into the warm water to discover an old friend; relief. The mid journey 'flannel and change' was an absolute God send and to be honest I didn't feel dirty or grimy, I just think my body is not one that is designed to go more than 16 hours without skin care, loose breathable pyjamas and relaxation. First world problems, am I right?
The door knocked and Ben frantically searched for a mask before opening it to find the rest of our luggage had already been delivered. I wanted to soak in the tub longer but I honestly didn’t have the energy and I didn’t come all this way just to drown in a hotel bathtub. I hauled myself into some pyjamas, food arrived not long after and to our delight and surprise it was a steak dinner with gorgeous new potatoes, greens and mushroom marinade. Shortly followed by (for Ben, anyway), a New York brownie. At the bottom of our food bag we discovered a menu for the next day with two options for each meal. The earliest you could put the order in was 8pm and it was only 7:15pm… we were wavering, barley able to keep our eyes open and the sun was high in the sky and making our eyes and heads ring. The minutes went by like snails on valium and finally the clock read: 20:00. I lifted the phone to my mask-beaten ear, slurred out my order, rolled into bed, and slept.
***
Quarantine Day #1
Popular
I have never been so popular in my life. I can honestly say my phone goes off less on my birthday than it has everyday for the last week. These are all warm messages of love, support and advise which I appreciate more than I can describe but what I am not a fan of is the number of hours spent looking at my phone’s screen. It’s very easy to get caught up once you turn on and to be honest I would much rather do all of my replies in one go. Also, for the structural integrity of my own mental wellbeing (sometimes comparable to a straw house built in the 1800's), it is important to limit the time spent saying the “I’ll miss you’s” and focus more on the “holy crap I’m in NZ!” and the “you’re gunna smash it I can’t wait to come and visit you”’s.
This morning I woke at 04:50, a time that met my horrified gaze as I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep... but my body and mind weren't having it. I felt hungover, dehydrated, foggy, even though I woke multiple times in the night to down water like I had been in a Sahara drought for several weeks. I rolled out of bed to open the curtains so I could snooze until sunrise but of course 1st light comes early and my headache was spreading across my skull like wild fire. Lying on my right side, I looked through the foot sized gap I had created between the blackout blinds and watched as mountains appeared in the far distance, cloud teasing the rocky edges as if tracing them but never touching, I was very happy to see this sight. One of the things that I noticed when we were landing in Auckland was the difference in terrain compared to the UK. The UK is mostly flat, there are rolling hills which gravity defying cows and sheep cling to, but nothing too impressive. The trees in the UK tend to grow mostly on flat land and strong oak trunks reach to the sky perpendicular to the ground. Here, the ground moves like a wave, rolling hills quickly become lakes which become meandering streams. Here, shores become woodland with tree trunks that grow like trigonometry questions.
I had to make the most of this time and work on a project that would get me moving and stimulated so I decided that the room would be my project today. It’s a fairly spacious room with two double beds, one bedside table, bathroom with a tub, wardrobe and a little tea and coffee corner and small fridge for milk. My first project was to clear the floor as the aftermath of travelling had lead to the mode of transport for clothes and posessions to be either flung or dumped. After searching for loose pjs and clean clothes for our love deprived skin, the cases had been unzipped and piled into the corner with no regard for tidiness. Another annoying thing I needed to sort was the lack of a decent sized bin. To compensate we had resorted to an open black sack in the wardrobe which (let’s be honest), is not a long term solution.
Two hours passed and I had made amazing progress, everything had a system. Things that needed to be unpacked were put away and the consequential empty bags had been folded and neatly put on top of the wardrobe. The fridge has a rotation system in place so that cold water is available at all times, my camera bag has been turned into a place for wires to live as my camera would spend the majority of quarantine on my tripod, and dating a gamer comes with baggage in the form of an obscene number of wires and devises. There was more that I wanted to do: find a container for used teabags, something to use as a toothbrush holder and maybe a bowl for snacks. Unfortunately those tasks had to wait as the tiredness was so thick at this point that it is like driving with no headlights. I curled up next to Ben (who had been gaming for these two hours) and snuggled in. Trying my best to block out the light from the window I closed my eyes and felt my breath become heavy in seconds. Twenty minutes later and the knock on the door for breakfast made me jump out of my God. Damn. Skin.
The food that arrived to our door was amazing! Hash browns with some sort of sweetcorn concoction, guacamole, tofu, tomato relish and a side salad. What a mix and what a cracking breakfast. I started to feel better immediately, not that my skin tone would agree with that statement. I can honesty say I looked sickly white, the palest I have ever looked... almost grey. With a little more energy behind me and a desire to push through the day I decided I would try and get some writing done. I know that our C-19 tests are supposed to be today, but who knows?
***
Message to reader: Throughout my blogs you may read the acronym MSN. It is something I invented to replace the colloquial term 'Karen' as it has recently been pointed out to me that this is a language concept that furthers misogynistic views by demeaning women. MSN stands for Manager Seeking Narcissist. I hope you enjoy the rest of your read!
***
Kiwi’s Are Awesome
After some writing I received a phone call that asked us to take our passports down to the lobby to have our first covid tests. To my recollection the man on the bus said day 1, 3, 5, 7 and 10… but he also said that our day 1 swab would happen on day 2 because we were so late arriving, so I have no fucking clue what's going on. Excited to have a reason to leave the room, (real promising considering we are less that 24 hours in), we got dressed and headed down for testing. The results take 24 to 48 hours and if they are negative we will be issued with blue bands of freedom for a 50 minute walk in the carpark daily.
At this point I had completely forgotten that I had put a message in GLT (Girls Love Travel) Facebook group just asking people for some advise and tips on the area. 132 comments and 1.2K likes. There was mostly positive comments with really lovely people offering sound and helpful advise. However, there were a couple envious or outright angry comments that were later removed. These were people who are from NZ, born and raised and can't get back home. Meanwhile, here I am a born and bred Brit getting into their beloved home. The only outright angry comment was from someone who was in NZ, (strong MSN vibes from this one for sure). I only skimmed the comment and it is no where to be found now but the gist was:
“I bloody hope you’re not bringing covid with you, and tell that stupid PM of yours to...” I stopped reading.
First off, what in the world makes you think that I have a direct line to Boris?
Second, if I did have a direct line to that ferret faced waste of oxygen, why the hell would I use it?
Third, oh shit, yeah you’re right let me just remove the covid-19 I packed in my hand luggage earlier… whoops!
Fourth and finally: You’ve seen your PM right? You have witnessed her actions over the last 2 years? Her brutal and amazing handling of this pandemic that has kept you all safe and made every citizen of every other country envious.
*sigh* Keyboard warriors, am I right?
On a separate and more positive note, there were people on there from ‘Welly’, that have some amazing suggestions and invited me to drop them a message if I had any more questions. What a fab group of people!
In a complexion update; I still look the ghost of Christmas past. We called Bens parent today and my skin is about 3 shades whiter and 2 shades greyer than his. To be clear as to how ridiculous this is… he is ginger.
Comments