The Big Holiday - New Zealand

Our Hotel in the Temperate Rain Forest

There were many echoes of friends in New Zealand. We arrived under threat from Cyclone Pam (hello Pam!), we passed through the town of Geraldine (hello Geraldine!), I saw Zak’s bones in Wellington (hello Zak!), and some person with the surname Waugh (hello Rachel!) dominated the bookstores in Greymouth.

Anyway, I arrived in New Zealand and was immediately struck by the fact that everything at the airport was in two languages, English and Maori. I was initially sceptical, believing it to be a big PR exercise, but actually the Maori are pretty well integrated into mainstream NZ society and it wasn’t just a show put on for the tourists after all.

Paul had warned me about the strict customs (duty, not Maori customs!) and there were plenty of notices around warning of instant large fines if you didn’t declare dirt on your shoes, wooden items, animal skins, etc. I was spared the sniffer dogs that are apparently usually there, but was fretting about the fur on my cardigan (that is now ruined by the sealant leaking all over it).

Paul met me off the plane and for some reason I was inordinately surprised at his car – I can’t tell you what the car was, because I’m not a car person, but it was one of those ones that sit up fairly high. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Maybe it’s having been in Egypt for 18 months and I’m used to bashed-up cars being the norm. It all felt very grand. And the next thing I couldn’t get over was how good the roads were, much to Paul’s surprise, since he thought they weren’t anything particularly to write home about. Again, maybe I’m used to the potholes, dirt tracks, and ignored speed bumps of Egypt. For some reason, driving on the left didn’t faze me at all, maybe because that’s how I was brought up.

It seemed strange to me on arrival that I’d never seen Paul and Pat’s house, either. Of course I haven’t, because NZ is a long way away, but somehow it was different being confronted with the fact. At this point, I have to give a huge public thanks to Paul and Pat for their hospitality. We couldn’t have wanted for more care and attention.

Anyway, their house was huge, comfortable, and in a stunning setting. I’d forgotten that they may have dogs as I saw Lena bravely sitting there pretending to be all calm and collected. Fortunately, the dogs are getting on in age and are not that boisterous, so Lena was able to cope.

I provided a link to the tour before, so I won’t repeat the list of places we visited. For me, I think highlights included Rotorua with rivers so hot that they were bubbling, earth that belched, and water gushing out of geysers; Dunedin that tried so hard to be like Edinburgh with the same street names, a mini Scott monument, and even a Dunedin Fringe Festival; Queenstown with some stunning scenery, a steamboat journey, and a jet boat experience; our luck at having blue skies during the cruise on the Milford Sound, and on our ferry journey from Wellington to the South Island; the pancake rocks which no-one can quite explain and the amazing chimney blow hole; the glaciers coming right down into the temperate rain forest and our stay in the beautiful hotel in the middle of all those trees. Oh, and the glow worms... and the great tasting coffee (hello Simon!)! 

It was sad to see Christchurch with the effects of the earthquake still hanging over the city as it continues to rebuild its entire infrastructure; it's basically a complete city being rebuilt. Arguments abound about whether the cathedral should be destroyed or renovated; controversy remains about the cost of building and maintaining the fascinating cardboard cathedral (yes, that's right, it's made out of cardboard!) that stands to serve the community in the mean time.

What really marked out NZ for me was the foliage and trees which were quite different from what I’d seen anywhere else (cabbage trees [they don’t look like cabbages, IMO], flax stretching out to the distance, the tall and long-lived kauri trees, nikau palms [trans “without (coco)nuts”], a multitude of ferns). It was all very lush and, to British eyes, looked very tropical. No doubt part of the abundance of trees was due to timber being a major industry in New Zealand (this was news to me).

Sheep farming had reduced drastically (also news to me; I think from around 90k to 30k sheep or farms) since dairy farming was now more lucrative and many farmers had switched over to dairy. Merino wool was still expensive and was often mixed with possum fur, a creature much loathed by New Zealanders. I bought a pair of possum slippers thinking I was doing the New Zealanders a favour (and the slippers were still quite expensive given that possum are a pest), but our tour guide just looked vaguely horrified that I would want something possum-like.

Our tour had around 44 people including Americans, Canadians, Australians, Norwegians, British, and South Africans. Lena and I were probably among the youngest in age, but some in their 80s were younger in spirit and possibly even in physical health than we were. I can only pray that I will be healthy enough to be enjoying travelling around in 30 years’ time.

Our tour guide unwittingly gave us a smattering of NZ lingo – “It’s all good, folks”, “sweet as”, “holy heck” were all well-used phrases over the 15 days. At first we thought he was trying to tell us that there were no ski pistes in NZ, but it turned out that he meant “pests” not “pistes”. Oh, and during our time there, NZ got to the cricket finals but eventually lost to the “West Island” (Australia). We had a running commentary throughout.

I couldn’t quite get my head round that it was March, because, particularly towards the end of our trip, it was clearly autumn in NZ. In Vienna on my way back, it looked clearly like winter with snow as we landed. And when I arrived back in Egypt, it felt like summer. My mind was completely screwed up by all this; I just couldn’t fathom it out.

So, that’s my potted impressions of NZ. A bit like the tour itself, so short an impression that you probably feel cheated. Having thought it would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip, I’m already wishing I could return.

The Big Holiday - Getting There

View on Road Trip Near Queenstown, NZ

My Big Holiday comprised 2 days in Zurich (not realising at the time of booking that I would be returning to live there for a year), 2 days in Singapore, 3 days with my brother and his wife who live near Auckland (hello Paul, hello Pat!), a 15 day coach tour of the North and South Island, and a final day in Auckland. It was a once-in-a-lifetime effort (or is it?).

As with my return to Egypt after the holiday, my return to Zurich during the holiday met me with things that had changed since I last lived there. The Sternen Grill now had a fancy restaurant bit upstairs with a view of the lake. The Swissotel in Oerlikon had been revamped and you now needed a code for the toilets! Life always goes on without you.

In my little bubble at Sahl Hasheesh, I forget things like winter, so I was surprised both at how pretty Lake Zurich was and at the existence of snow, which was glistening on all the hills around. It felt out of season, somehow, having just come from the warm Egypt sunshine.

On contemplating that I would soon be staying in Zurich for a year, I felt both excitement at the prospect of seeing old friends, visiting old haunts and the security of the familiar and also a bit of disgruntlement that it wouldn’t really be anything that new, it wouldn’t be such a great adventure as a new city would be, and I worried that I would quickly tire of being back.

Even in that short time, I noticed things that I’d forgotten about Zurich. For the first time, I felt the surprise that Safi had told me about where you turn on the cold tap and the water really is cold. Suddenly, I could understand why Sheila was complaining about the warm water in Egypt and wondering if something was wrong. You just don’t get water that cold in Egypt!

I stayed in Lena’s flat for the two days (thank you Lena, thank you Zak!) and I’d forgotten about sorting out the rubbish; in Egypt, everything just gets thrown away all together in one bag (the reality is that in Egypt poorer people rifle through rubbish to see if they can retrieve anything). On going to look at the flat I was going to rent, old memories of being falsely accused (and fined!) for improper disposal of electrical rubbish returned to me since my new accommodation is near where the elektro-tram is stationed.

Then, as I rang to enter the flat, the church bells started to chime noisily, and I remembered all those sleepless nights I had when I first moved to Zurich when the bells kept me awake through the night. How could I have forgotten about that!

I spent my time in Zurich signing the contract on my rental flat, setting up a new bank account, and trying to arrange with my new work place as to whether I could start work a week earlier because they wanted me to be in a meeting in Japan on my first day. As it turned out, a few days before my holiday ended, I had an email saying they were reverting to the original start date, with my first day of work in Zurich back to 13th April. I’d forgotten how hectic and “ready for change” (the motto of so many companies) that you have to be in the working environment. I was literally on the phone to HR as I was on my way to the airport to go to Singapore.

Fortunately, all travel on the way went smoothly.

The documents on the plane reminding you that you automatically receive the death sentence if you are found to be carrying drugs were a bit scary (even though I’ve never done drugs! But what if they made a mistake, what if someone managed to plant some on me? I mean, with my luck...). 

I didn’t have many expectations of Singapore but as I saw the harbour, the tall modern skyscrapers, and all the boats dotted about in the sea as the plane landed, I suddenly realised that this was exactly how I imagined Singapore to be.

Singapore is as clean as it is rumoured to be. I knew that chewing gum was not allowed, but I hadn’t expected even the bank notes to be all crisp and new. I wondered whether they ever used them more than once; I hadn’t really ever thought of the Egyptian ones as shabby, which is what struck Sheila when she was over, but the newness of the notes in Singapore was startling. I was scared to fold them in case it wasn’t allowed.

It was a very cosmopolitan city with a lot of English being spoken in the streets; everyone was very well dressed and it gave off the impression of being wealthy, and the prices, particularly of alcohol, matched that impression. Strangely, the place where we ate had a happy hour from 10pm to 11pm, which was their final hour before closing. That’s not usually how it works, not in the UK at least, where happy hour is early in the evening to get the crowds in before the night gets going.

After the disorganisation that is Egypt, I was particularly struck at how well-signposted everything was. It was easy to get around as you were really well-looked after with all the signage. We went to Gardens by the Bay and spent most of the day there; we also took a boat trip and visited the Fort Canning Park.

After that, it was onwards to our main destination: New Zealand.

The Big Holiday - Arriving Home

Cruise down Milford Sound, New Zealand

The blogs from my holiday aren’t in any particular order (as you may have noticed!). I’m just writing the more recent stuff first while it’s fresh and I’ll do a blog later on the actual holiday.

In real-time, today is the first day in my new job, but I’ll get to that another week. I expect to run out of steam fairly quickly on things to say about Zurich, so I’ll milk my holiday first for what it’s worth and tell you about my Zurich move later. Back to my NZ trip...

Anyway, after my over-long journey, I finally arrived home at 3am. The person on security took my case to my flat for me, switched my water back on, and switched my electricity on.

It was quite strange to see my flat again; it looked both strange and familiar all at once. I’d asked to have the flat cleaned, so it was looking orderly, which was a relief.

In Istanbul, I felt a cold developing, and actually I fell asleep before the plane even took off. On arriving in my flat, I thought I’d dig out the cold medication that I’d bought on my way to NZ as I thought then that I was getting a cold. It was annoying to buy medications in Zurich as they are so expensive there (also you can’t self-medicate like you can in Egypt, as the pharmacist informed me in a superior tone when I asked for melatonin for my jet-lag). As it turned out, the cold never materialised, but it seemed to be now.

Consequently, I turned my attention to my suitcase and as I went to open it, I saw some white stuff leaking out from the edge of the zip. This was not good. I assumed it was toothpaste, but when I opened it up, I realised that it was the tin of sealer that I’d bought in NZ in the hope that it would sort out the problem with the wall in my bedroom (see 22 Dec 2013: Egypt - First Time Coming Home for the story and 31st December: Settling In for a picture). The tin (like a paint tin) had got dented during the journey and somehow it had leaked.

The runaway sealant was selective as to where it went, choosing my most expensive cardigan and one of my favorite dresses. And a tiny speck landed on my new possum slippers. Fortunately, my new jacket was in a bag and the sealant went over the bag and not the jacket (and the bag cleaned up OK, unlike the cardigan and the dress). But it could have been worse; the rest of the sealant was covering the zip to the suitcase and the suitcase was going to be binned anyway.

I was too tired to do anything about it and stumbled into bed. I woke up a few hours later and then realised the consequences of the security guy switching on the electricity. I’d assumed the electricity would remain on in my absence. All the meat in my freezer would be ruined. I thought the flat had smelled a bit peculiar.

After binning all my meat (and in Egypt I feel really bad about throwing away food) and doing two lots of washing, I was too tired on the first day back even to try to get the internet working (and that means I must have been really tired!). Safi took me to Senzo Mall; it was strange to drive on the right-hand side again. In my absence, Senzo Mall had erected a fence around it (for security I guess) and the dirt short-cut between the two sides of the dual carriageway now had some temporary surfacing on it as if it intended to become an official turning at some point. Nothing stays the same when you go away! I purchased some internet usage and got some basic foods.

The second day, I switched on my laptop and it informed me that it couldn’t start Windows because a driver was missing. Huh? Everything was fine last time I’d used it, what had happened? That was my third disaster on arrival – first the leaking sealant, then the rotten meat, and now the striking laptop.

I tried starting the computer again half an hour later, but no luck. I attempted to force it to open Windows regardless, but my hopes were dashed as it wouldn’t let me get past the login page.

Safe mode got me onto Windows (phew!), but the internet wouldn't work. Nevertheless, it was progress.

Finally, on the last attempt, everything functioned, but for an internet junkie such as I am, it was a stressful hour. I was nervous about whether this fiasco would be repeated every day into infinity and whether there’s an underlying issue.

However hard I try, however hard I plan, no return to Egypt is ever trouble-free! Something always has to go wrong.

The Big Holiday - A "Long" Haul

Singapore - Supertree Grove

Well, I’m back in Sahl Hasheesh, the sun is shining, the atmosphere is relaxed, and I’m wondering what possessed me to go back to work.

Getting back turned out to be quite a journey. I should have been suspicious when things went wrong from the very start.

On the way to NZ, one of the wheels tore off my suitcase meaning that I had to drag it about rather than wheeling it, so I wanted as little carrying and as little hassle as possible. I asked at Auckland check-in if they could check my bags all the way through to Hurghada, but as it was, the booking system froze as I arrived at the counter. Looking back, this was A Sign.

Eventually, after the woman serving me filled in the time with various questions about whether I had visas (I didn’t need any?) and whether I had onward flights (but I’ve just asked you to book my luggage all the way through?), the guy at the next desk had to see to my check in because the system at my counter wasn’t working. He could book me in only as far as Singapore.

Even though it was early in the morning, I was fortunately alert enough to notice that two separate flights were going to Brisbane at the same time and I went to the correct gate. The flight turned out to be delayed, but I wasn’t too bothered. Then, as we were about to land, the ground now almost close enough to touch as I looked out the window, the plane suddenly accelerated and rose up fast into the sky as if in panic. They’d had to abort the landing due to bad weather.

I was glad that the pilot wasn’t a risk taker. If I’d have been the pilot, I’d have probably chanced it and gone ahead, skidded, and killed hundreds of people. Just as well I never became a pilot.

Anyway, we were delayed, but landed safely in the end. I had a five hour wait at Brisbane, so the delay wasn’t too much of a hassle. The next part of my journey was on business class, so I could take advantage of the lounge. In fact, my trip as far as Zurich (via Singapore) was all in business, and all of this bit went smoothly. Perhaps The Sign is that I should always travel business; as soon as I went economy, things went wrong.

So, I arrived in Zurich pretty happy with how things had gone. At Singapore, they’d checked my luggage in all the way through, so I was worry-free in that respect. I’d sampled the business lounge at Singapore and eaten some pretty good food.

Zurich to Hurghada was all economy and this is when everything went horribly wrong. I’d chosen to fly to Hurghada via Vienna rather than waiting two days in Zurich until there was a direct flight. However, the Zurich flight was delayed (the theme of my journey).We eventually took off and on arrival in Vienna, I ran to the gate for my next flight. As I arrived, the woman was just saying on the phone that she was waiting for Frau Steinkamp (that’s me!). I panted out in German that I was she, and she stopped the conversation to let the person on the other end know, but it was too late; the plane was just leaving.

The next flight to Hurghada was via Istanbul, so I had to wait in Vienna airport for 10 hours for a flight to Istanbul. I’d probably already been travelling for 24 hours. They gave me a 12 EUR compensation voucher to spend in selected outlets for food, which didn’t quite cover my needs, to be honest. At least they didn’t tell me off for booking a flight with such a short connection time.

Vienna airport was pretty good with places to charge your tablets etc free of charge and limitless free wifi, so actually I passed the time fairly easily. When I finally checked in for my new flight, I was warned that the flight was delayed, but they were sure I’d still make the connection as there was plenty of time. I was also informed that I had a standby ticket, but, again, they were sure that a seat would be available.

However, the 20 minute delay turned into a 2 hour delay and, yes, that’s right, I missed my next connection. Actually, I rudely leapt off the plane and charged into the airport to try to get to the gate and then was confused because my flight wasn’t showing on the screen and I couldn’t see anyone around to ask. I didn’t know which direction to go in or what to do. I kept on staring at the board willing for my flight to appear; I had 30 minutes before the plane left, so at least I should be able to get on, even if my luggage couldn’t.

Finally, a member of airport staff walked past and he informed me that it was an hour later than I thought it was and that the flight wasn’t showing because it had gone a long time ago. I’d never planned to be in Istanbul and never considered that it would be in a different time zone from Vienna.

My next challenge was to rebook my flight yet again. The guy pointed me to the Turkish Airlines help desk, they told me to go to the Night Desk. I needed to contact Esmat to tell him not to pick me up from the airport that evening, but I was informed that there was no wifi in the airport. Help! I walked away and became unsure as to whether they’d said to go upstairs and then through passport control or vice versa. I asked someone and they told me to go to the end of the corridor. The end of the corridor was in darkness and I was sure this wasn’t right.

I looked at my ticket and I realised that she’d written Denied Desk, not the Night Desk. I asked someone else and they informed me that I needed to go by the visa, through passport control, and then... it was all more than I could remember and I was already confused as to whether I had to buy a visa or whether passport control was by the visa desk.

Fortunately, passport control, by the visa desk, was empty, so I went up and was turned away because I didn’t have a visa. The visa desk would take only US dollars or EUR, neither of which I had. There were machines that would take cards, and I sweated a bit as I hadn’t listed Turkey as one of the countries I was visiting and worried that my card would be refused, but fortunately it worked.

By this time, planeloads of tourists had entered the airport and there was a huge queue to get through passport control. I had to ask someone where the stairs were and, I’ll cut the story a bit, I eventually found the Denied Desk.

There seemed to be a bit of a fuss and discussion as I explained my situation; I heard the words “standby” and they seemed a bit puzzled as to how it took me so long to get to their desk. I wandered over to the free laptops and tried to contact Esmat but for some reason the system wouldn’t recognise my facebook login or my email login and, again, there was no wifi available. Eventually I discovered that a cafe on the other side of the building had wifi, so I went over and begged them to be able to use it. I feared that I was already too late to be of any use to Esmat, but I had to try and communicate. The Denied Desk told me that afterwards I should go to B15. I asked if they meant gate B15 and they said no, B15 just up the way.

I found the correct B15, they gave me a boarding card and then said I had to go to the hotel downstairs next to Starbucks. I couldn’t grasp the name of the hotel and I said I needed them to pay for it, but they just insisted I went to the hotel next to Starbucks. It turned out to be the Hotel Desk, which is the desk where the airline books hotels for people who have missed connections; they waited for whole groups before allocating hotels to us. What a palava! I didn’t know that the whole process could be so complicated; that was a total of four separate counters I had to visit to get it all organised.

Anyway, cutting the story short again, I ended up in a hotel in the middle of nowhere bordering on the railway and motorway; my next flight was the same time, next day (around 10pm). The airline paid for the hotel, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. There was free wifi, so at least I was able to contact Esmat for a pickup the following night instead. However, I imagined he wasn’t too pleased with me since a pick up at 2am in the morning can’t be one of his favourite jobs; I’d now already not shown up the night before.

I could say more (customs, lost passport), but let’s just say that I finally made it home, but two days later than planned and I’ve missed out on two days here in lovely Sahl Hasheesh. But at least I am safe and sound and that’s the main thing.