The morning of Sunday the 23rd arrived, just as I knew and dreaded it would. I woke up early, got a shower, and started packing. 2.5 hours later, I wondered for the 87th time why all the things I brought had expanded while here, and refused to fit neatly into my bags. After wrestling my luggage into submission, I joined the others in the wool shed (converted to living quarters) for some map viewing and recollection of the adventures of September, as well as a quick meal of an orange and pickled beets (typical kiwi fare, though not in that combination). We all drug our feet getting to the car for my airport drop off, where hugs were shared all around and I hefted my bags into the terminal. After a steak and cheese pie, I walked out onto the tarmac through gate 4 (after being confused for a while because there’s only one door for all gates). I smiled as we glided over sights that were now familiar and favorites: Mts. Ruapehu, Ngaurahoe, Tongariro; Lake Taupo; manicured farmland meeting the wild bush.

We arrived in Auckland early, but taxiing and baggage claim were not ahead of schedule. After rearranging my luggage (being brave and packing my laptop in my checked bag) and stuffing my backpack back into its protective duffel, I headed off to check in.

Word to the wise: Auckland airport, though not expansive, has chosen to put its domestic and international terminals nearly 1 km apart. Signage is quite confusing, suggesting existence of a transfer shuttle that I think is as rarely sighted as a kiwi bird. I was stubborn and didn’t want to take my protective duffel off again, so I hefted my 21kg awkward load over my shoulder and trudged across parking lots. I huffed and puffed my way into the terminal and to the gates, where I wandered about to squander the small NZ currency I had left (Best Ugly Bagels… Yum).

Finally, my fifth continent! Touched down in Oz at 5:30 local time, then got herded through multiple corridors and stared down by customs agents before I finally headed off to the trains with my front-back backpack getup (gotta be recognized as a tourist, right?).

The Sydney YHA in The Rocks hostel is super posh! Over a hundred rooms, built over an archaeological dig, with a rooftop terrace overlooking the Harbour Bridge and Opera House. I plopped my bags down in the 4-bed female dorm room (with toilet and shower ensuite!) and struck up convo with an sextegenarian Aussie who was more than willing to share tips of area travel. Got my WiFi fix on the rooftop while watching ferries cruise by under a waxing moon, then enjoyed a soft bunk and sleep with ear plugs 🙂

I was still on Kiwi time, so woke well before my alarm. I decided to go for breakfast at Pancakes in the Rocks (thanks, Darren) before hopping the train for a 2.5 hr trip to Blue Mountains National Park for some bushwalks.

I like to consider myself at least average for navigating public transportation, but Sydney trains have got me beat. Google told me I’d only need 2 transfers, but I ended up on foot in 4 different stations. Nowhere did I find signage listing which platform a specific train left from. Instead, I repeatedly ducked down stairwells to poke back up at another platform to read the “next train” screen, gophering up and down until I found my next stop listed. Spending extra to have a cellular data plan while in Oz was repaid in full during this morning’s confusing commute. 😉

P.S. This was definitely the first train ride on which I’ve watched cockatoos flying along fence posts! 😊 I’ve admittedly been scanning the trackside for kangaroos, but don’t have my hopes too high. 😉