Jetlag Is A Bitch

I woke up yesterday morning at two in the morning and that was it. Ding. Wide awake. Managed to function through the day till eight o'clock and then out like a light on the couch again. This morning was a little better. Woke at four. The three of us were sitting round the living room watching cartoons by half past. What doesn't help is having "The Rainbow Connection" stuck in my head on an endless loop.



This is quite possibly the greatest song ever recorded by man or frog, but it just won't leave me alone. It's been in my head on a constant loop since we got off the plane.

I hate jetlag.

The Harbour Bridge in Auckland. Good snap given we were travelling at speed.

The reason I haven't posted since we arrived back in Auckland (and Ireland since) is that I just couldn't be arsed. Plus we took a more personal turn in our trip and spent quite a bit of time catching up with friends of Cathy's, wherein one case we discovered that New Zealand also likes daft internet memes. Witness...



Which led to...



And so on.

While Caleb stayed with his family, myself and Cathy stayed in a motel down the road, the Cascades. It didn't appear on google maps or anywhere on google when we were researching the place and so instantly sent me into terror at the prospect of a rat-infested hellhole of Dickensian squalor. It was actually grand. From our base there we spent the week doing fun stuff. We went to the famous Rainbow's End theme park, which, because the tourist season is almost over, was like having our own personal mini-golf, go-kart, water bumpers funspot.

This is what it felt like in the Getz. Actually all this talk of bumpers segues nicely into...

One of the downsides of approaching middle age is the terror that the future begins to hold. Needless to say, insurance companies love that shit. It makes the likes of me buy insurance on the car and travel insurance and probably insurance for the insurance. Which is grand because after we were rear ended (not our fault) we'd replaced the car within an hour and were back on the road to catch up with more people in Genghis Khans All You Can Eat Giant Shed (not really called that, but it was a giant shed and it was called Genghis Khans). So I suppose to say the week was uneventful would be wrong. We even got to go to the IMAX cinema. Twice. This part of the holiday can not be underestimated. I don't care that the movies we saw were Mission Impossible 45 and John "What the Hell is Going On?" Carter. It was IMAX. It was awesome.

The night before we left we decided to bookend our visit to New Zealand with a trip to Orbit, the swanky rotating restaurant on top of the Sky Tower. Reviewing the food (which was quite good) is pointless because the restaurant is slowly turning over the space of an hour, giving you an excellent view of the city.

After tearful farewells and 36 hours of bloody planes, we got back home and since then I've been chewing over the trip as a whole when I can stay conscious. So here are my impressions of New Zealand.

New Zealand is very like Ireland and England. The north is like Ireland in the summer, and the south is like Ireland in the winter. There are lots of very nice people there. For instance, the guy that crashed into us was the kind of fellow you'd happily go for a pint with.

New Zealand is very beautiful. Scale Ireland up about four times and give it the odd gigantic forest and a glacier or two and you're there.

Earthquakes are frightening in their capacity to psychologically scar people. The physical wreckage you can see on the news, but it's only in dealing with people on a day to day basis that you get the impression of the impact that these disasters can have on people hundreds of miles away from the flattened houses and shattered streets.

New Zealand is very lucky to have the Maori culture to root it as it's own nation, because quite often it feels as if the media and politicians refer to the stylings of England and Europe in their inspirations and policies.

Speights is the best beer I have ever drank. Ever. Both it's "Pride of The South" and "Distinction" labels are sublime. I'm glad we can't get it over here, because I'd have a bottle in my hand from one end of the day to the other. It really is that good.

The Samsung Galaxy S2 is quite possibly the greatest device ever. GPS, email, Facebook, Blogging, finding accommodation, banking, watching Mad Men season one on lazy mornings, lighting up dark corners of cars late at night to find the lost gold. The phone made our lives infinitely easier on our trip and I really had to give it credit, even if it is an inanimate object.


That's it. A fine holiday/trip to the other side of the world. I don't know if I'd be in a huge rush back for purposes of exotic culture and peoples exposure, but I can certainly see why the Irish people forced to emigrate find their way there. And not to insult same, but I'm glad to be home.

Thanks for reading.










The new Muppet movie is well worth watching by the way.