Where am I going?

Where am I going? And what will I find?

  

Where am I going?
I woke up in Auckland having slept for virtually the whole flight. While I had been sleeping I had crossed the International Date Line and the Equator, and was now about as far away from home as I could possibly be without leaving the planet. By the time I had put my shoes back on, got my things together and sorted myself out I was pretty much the last person off the plane. As I set off I heard a rattling noise coming from my rucksack. I remembered that I had a packet of Milk Duds in my bag which I had intended to snack on during the flight but the gin & Tylenol induced sleep had left me with no time to eat them. I had heard that the Customs officers in New Zealand could be very strict, especially when it came to food. I had been told the story of a friends son who had taken an apple with him and had been fined for trying to bring it into the country. The fact that the apple had been given to him on an Air New Zealand flight didn’t seem to make any difference. Not wanting to see the Milk Duds go to waste or get fined I ate them on the walk from the plane to Customs, finally throwing about a third of the packet away as I passed a bin. Scoffing that much chocolate for breakfast left me feeling a little queasy and a little hyperactive, not a great combination when about to deal with Immigration and Customs.

When it was my turn to be interrogated I made my way to the Immigration desk and handed my passport over. The woman behind the high desk flicked through it, looking at the stamps in it without saying anything. The first question I was asked was how long I intended to stay. I replied I would be in New Zealand for a month, handing her my round-the-world ticket itinerary with my flight to Australia for the following month highlighted. She asked me a lot of questions about where I planned to go during my month in New Zealand. I hadn’t got anything other than my initial stay in Auckland planned. I didn’t want to admit that so I reeled off a few places I was planning on visiting. I think I started to sweat, hoping the route I was telling her sounded plausible. It turned out that she was actually a really nice lady and she gave me lots of suggestions on places I should try and visit and things that I should do while there. She handed me my passport back and I thanked her for the travel tips. From there I collected my case, breezed through Customs safe in the knowledge that I was not trying to smuggle in contraband foodstuffs and hopped on a bus into Auckland.

The SkyTower

I had booked into a backpackers hostel, something that I had never done before in my life. I figured my travels were all about trying new things. I couldn’t bring myself to book into the multi-bed all male dorm however. I had no intention of sharing a room with half a dozen other backpackers who would undoubtedly be at least a decade younger than me. Whilst to some sharing a dorm with a bunch of guys in their early twenties would be amazing, like a scene from a porn film, I needed my own space and, more importantly, my own bathroom. My limit of trying new things only extended so far. The hostel was basic but clean but my bed had a very annoying squeak to it. I didn’t envision much action happening there so figured it would be fine for my stay. Having dropped off my case and freshened up I went for a walk and a coffee, hoping that the combination of fresh air and caffeine would keep me awake until a respectable hour at which I could go to bed.

And what will I find?

My walk took me (purposely) along Karangahape Road, know more simply as K' Road, the location of the Auckland gay nightlife. I had checked out how far it was from the place I was staying and it looked like it was within walking distance. I got to see where the bars were so I knew where I would be going when I ventured out on the scene in a day or two. Having done my walk I headed back via a supermarket, picking up a few essentials, having a snack in my room before falling asleep around 8pm. I have reached the conclusion on my travels that gay bars and gay men have a lot in common when it comes to how I feel about them. There are the bars (and men) that from the outside look quite appealing and it is clear that a lot of effort has gone in to creating a nice looking exterior. This nice looking exterior however only goes so far and won’t keep my attention indefinitely if that is all that is on offer. Once you are inside (the bar, not the man) it needs to have some sort of personality to it otherwise the attraction will soon fade. With the men there is only so far a nice body or face will go, they need to have personality too. 

The next couple of days were spent doing some of the main tourist sights of Auckland, albeit at a somewhat gentle pace, and trying to find wifi. On the tourist front I went up the Sky Tower, the tallest free-standing structure in the southern hemisphere. It was pretty much the same as the CN Tower in Toronto and the Space Needle in Seattle but gave me good views of the city. I also took in the Art Gallery of Auckland, walked through Albert Park, went up to the Auckland Domain and took in the Winter Gardens, which were all very pleasant. There was an art exhibition going on in the city and part of it was to have a plinth in front of Auckland City Hall where people could stand and pose and submit their pictures. I thought I would join in so I took a photo of Dean and Horse on the plinth and sent in. They made it onto their Flickr gallery. On the wifi front I resigned myself to having to frequent Starbucks where I could get some access whilst drinking mediocre coffee.

The Winter Gardens

I found myself in Starbucks reading a message about a possible host in New Zealand. I had got a lead from a guy I met in Portland who had a friend, David, in Whitianga, not too far from Auckland on the North Island. He said that he might be able to help with some accommodation so I dropped him a note, explaining more fully my travels, what I was doing and how he might be able to help. Having checked with his other half he let me know that they were up for hosting. I had found my first New Zealand hosts (although neither of them were Kiwis). As we chatted via email we found we had a couple of other connections, which made the world seem very small indeed. David was friends with a guy who had been my flatmate for a couple of years and he had also dealt with the travel arrangements for a Kiwi partner at the firm I used to work for. Not only did I know the partner, I had spent a couple of months working for him in Iceland (the country, not the frozen food supermarket). It amazed me that I had been introduced to this guy only a day before and we were connected by three totally separate connections with different people.

Auckland skyline from the harbour

Having finished my coffee and my admin tasks I had a late lunch on Saturday afternoon. I found a Wagamamas restaurant tucked away down a little side street. It was a nice little reminder of home, the one on Fleet Street had become a regular meeting spot for lunch with my old secretary, Becky. I headed in. I had never eaten alone in a Wagamamas before but with its long canteen style tables and benches it felt less daunting than dining alone in a normal restaurant where I would clearly be sat at a table by myself. I found myself sat close enough to the people next to me to listen in to their conversation while I ate. It made me feel like I wasn’t on my own. I could nod along to there conversation, making it look like I was part of their group. That only worked until about half way through my meal when they all got up to leave and I was left sitting on my own finishing off my noodles. Still, it was better than sitting alone in my room eating take-away. Having lined my stomach I had a post lunch nap until it was time for me to get ready to go and try the Auckland gay scene.

“Where am I going? And what will I find?” 
Lyrics from Where Am I Going? from the musical Sweet Charity