A: Well, it's normally a one-hour flight, with some turbulence and strong winds at the Wellington airport, but if you want some variety try this: Board plane in Auckland, fly to Wellington, notice heavy fog covering the runway. Try to land, three times. Fly back to Auckland. Read forecast suggesting that the weather will improve. Change crews, and let the more pessimistic passengers off the plane. Fly back down to Wellington. Land.
To the credit of Air New Zealand's staff, they did a good job keeping a cool head throughout the ordeal. I muttered, swore beneath my breath (not that it would have mattered, as I was sitting next to a deaf woman), finished watching V for Vendetta, finished reading another Nicholas Mosley novel, decided that Michel Foucault became really tedious after a certain point, realized that I should have had a shower while I could, and played approximately 300 games of solitaire on my iPod.
My mood lifted upon arrival. I'm back without Anne, unfortunately, and Harry and his girlfriend are staying in my tiny flat, but I'm weirdly positive about being here. Even if it is on the wrong side of the world from her. Riding through the small city - past the hillside lights reflected off Evans Bay, careening around corners on the one-and-a-half-lane roads, listening to the Talking Heads, up the hills and explaining the topography to Harry's girlfriend - I know that I'm home for now.
There's good points, some bad points.
Oh it all works out, you know I'm a little freaked out.
Find a city, find myself a city to live in.
I will find a city, find myself a city to live in.
-Talking Heads, "Cities"
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