Okay, I'm extrememly apologetic for the delay in posting this; my only explanation is that I've been working very busily seven days a week all year so far and the computer I have in work is trying to run 2007 websites on a 1998 operating system at apeeds that would've been laughed at in 1989, so every click of the mouse is like pulling teeth. Still, here I am at last and here we go...
JANUARY
Return to Aberystwyth one last time to pack up possessions and clear out of New Street adter 3 1/2 years, throwing out so many sacks of accumulated junk the back yard looks like something stuntmen crash into. Buy first-ever digital camera. Say goodbye to work colleagues and various friends, my housemates Rich after over eight years of being around each other, before finding myself driving out of the town in a state of baffled confusion that I'm actually passing back outside the event horizon. Drop possessions at parents' home... erm, well, fill most available space in house and garage with mountains of clutter, pack backpack for New Zealand, then immediately up sticks again and go on whistlestop tour of country to catch up with several old friends I haven't seen in ages in London, Essex, Norwich (where I get on a horse for the second time in my life - first was in 1990 - and off again rather speedily), plus now-ex-Aber-housemate Jo in Tamworth, where we scout her wedding location for 20 months hence at the Castle. Return to Dinas Powys, say hello to parents, entertain Founder Dart for a farewell evening of Pro Evo that I finish with a fluke victory, make still more of a mess of the place, grab backpack and skedaddle for Heathrow. Meet 21 fellow BUNACers and after endless familial farewells lift off from Britain for only my second venture outside Europe, fly 12 hours to Hong Kong and live in each others' pockets for next two days and nights. Only get lost on my own for 2 1/2 hours, and have T-shirt to record the achievement. One of fifteen people singing atrocious karaoke into three mics in a basement bar, which surprises the Chinese who take it deadly seriously. My neighbour gets hammered, stands up, hits her head, staggers and opens up my cheek with a flailing thumbnail. Nice. Somehow all make it onto plane to Auckland, and 11 hours later I arrive in New Zealand for a 19 or 20-month sojourn on the far side of the planet. Bungy (as they spell it here) jump off the harbour bridge two days later to get it over with and shake my nerves off. Succeed in getting a "swinging face-scraper" as I plough rather than dipped into the harbour, which adds two black eyes to scar already on face, but don't realise until after so go again. Backwards. Cleaner dive though scary shuffling backwards towards 140ft ledge with your ankles tied together. Mooch and sightsee around Auckland for three weeks through first half of:
FEBRUARY
then go on bus tour of the North Island mostly with two fellow BUNACers. Meet Pacific Ocean for first time and dig own hot pool on a thermally-heated beach. See geysers and mudpools at sulphurous Rotorua, where six-week-old camera stops working, then go 'black-water rafting' in glowworm caves at Waitomo and skydive at 12,000ft above Lake Taupo on the same day. Awesome, would do it again like a shot. (Said with feet firmly on terra firma.) Head to unspoiled backwater and Maori heartland the East Cape to chill out for a few days by a great surf beach mercifully devoid of surfers.
MARCH
Leave East Cape via farmstay where I get on a horse for the third time in my life and stay on for 2 hours of trekking up and down hills and through surf on wild beaches. Cool but scarier than jumping out of a plane had been. Stay at one more homestead with its own Pacific beach at the end of the garden, then make way south to Wellington. Celebrate return to city life by staying out til 5am then eating breakfast in middle of main shopping street with someone I'd just met, before getting to bed at 9am. Classy. Roll out of bed at 5:30pm and into Paramount Theatre in time to join Film Society for first showing of the year. Move to YHA hostel, the best place I''ve stayed in yet.
Get job as sales rep hawking cheap novelty giftware around out-of-town shops, factories, warehouses and (on one memorable occasion) whorehouses. Do surprisingly well to start with, then rather less well , get food poisoning, overwhelmed by feeling nervous over lack of basic salary, and quit. Spend time not job/flat-hunting wandering Wellington, taking photos and getting to know the place. Make temporary friends who inevitably move on elsewhere before long. Go to Film Society and blockbuster movies to keep me sane. Rediscover reading for the first time in a decade and start going through books at a rate of knots. Keep looking for a flat and another job, with no success.
APRIL
As March, but without having the job. Acquire circle of friends of fellow semi-permanent immigrants and hang out a fair bit.
MAY
As April, but to great surprise visit flat whose occupants decid they want me to move in, which I do on my 27th on the 27th. Get ID'd for the first time in my life that night, which I feel has a certain je ne sais pas.
JUNE
As April, sinking slowly into worst fug of depression in six years via endless feedback loop of job application/wait/rejection. Take to seeking refuge at YHA/in library/cinema/secondhand bookshops/Internet cafes to escape trappedness at home, and devouring books to retain grip on sanity by avoiding reality. House wooden single-glazed bungalow, therefore freezing in NZ winter. World Cup comes and goes, with standard disappointing England exit. Have several great nights in sports bar until all hours, where the city's foreign communities of residents/backpackers congregate one after the other to cheer on their respective teams - highlights are being a neutral amidst wildly enthusiastic Japanese and raucous Aussies for their clash (I say"neutral", but really I will Australia on all the way after playing as them for years on FIFA PC games - my boys come good in the last eight minutes to win 3-1 from behind), and experiencing the deafening Argentinian support as their team net 6 goals in a game. Meet a Frenck girl while watching South Korea v Togo, then a few days later pull her while Holland v someone else is on, upstairs in an irish bar. This cosmopolitan romance hits the rocks moments later when it emerges she thinks I'm gay. Takes rest of the night to convince her otherwise.
JULY
As June, except less World Cup action (although Zidane's last reaction will take some beating), which ends with me pleased two of my favoured sides made the Final. Start the month with group of friends at Pirates of the Caribbean premiere and finish it playing a pirate in a film myself - admittedly as a fancy-dress party scene extra in a student short, but in full costume anf makeup. Worryingly great fun.
AUGUST
As July, but without any piratical activity. Last man out on last day of Lord of the Rings film exhibition at Te Papa national museum, geeky to the end.
SEPTEMBER
Finally in right place at right time, and get job as receptionist at backpacker hostel six evenings a week. They want me to move in too. Needed a change of scene so didn't complain. Feels good to be useful again. Job seems OK.
OCTOBER
Farewell lovely flatmates when they finally find a replacement for me, glad to not have been a total loser in the end. Job goes OK. Write article on the LOTR phenomenon in Wellington for friend/small-press publisher DJ Tyrer back home. Wrong place at wrong time plus case of mistaken identity conspire to get me arrested for the first time of my life, at Te Papa, for some alleged petty vandalism - despite being a law-abiding person, in a place I loved and had visited scores of times and eulogised to backpackers daily, which was that day swarming with police. Mmm, logical. Police eventually agree, after all questioning meets only frustrated determination, that I didn't do it, but since video evidence proves nothing either way Te Papa decide guilty until proven innocent and issue a trespass notice/banning order offering em the quality choice of a $1000 fine or 3 months in jail should I set foot on the premises in the next two years. Too traumatised to complain (20% furious but 80% terrified by this point), but mightily ticked off later when I'd time to seethe properly. Have meeting with a JP and Parliamentary Advisor to the Foreign Minister, who also happens to be mates with the Director of Te Papa - he gets him on the phone and latter agrees situation is patently ludicrous, but to this day they still haven't done anything about it. Hmmmph.
Do get some extra casual work as a Mystery Shopper.
NOVEMBER
Tour Parliament on interesting Open Day and walk the floor of the chamber - doubly odd as it's modelled on Westminster. DJT points out that as an alleged anarchist mastermind it's remarkable I succeeded in avoiding blowing the place up or similar. Offer to do cleaning work in hostel as I need to supplement income badly and surely nothing could compare to Aberyswyth Students Union toilets at 7am on a Saturday morning... Incumbent secondary cleaner quits the next week and I take on two days' housekeeping a week, which I can fit in before reception at 4. Incumbent primary cleaner goes AWOL the next week and I a.) start to wonder about my powers and b.) take on five days' housekeeping a week. Meanwhile had decided two simultaneous jobs just isn't enough and started as kitchenhand in a Deep-South-style restaurant on my one day off from the hostel. Wished I'd gone for cobbling together part-time things before instead of searching for full-time so long and fruitlessly. Three at once now though - clearly jobs are like the proverbial buses.
DECEMBER
In an act of self-flagellation for my earlier inactivity/act of greed for as much money as I can make in a few months, work every single day. Feel awful come Christmas week, every muscle aching, after not a sniffle all year, and assume I'm overdoing things. Visit doctor after three days of this,show him new bites/spots on arms, and he immediately diagnoses chicken pox. Of all things. Never had it when young, blame now the cute kids I'd been 'babysitting' in reception at intervals over previous week. Spots break out everywhere. Work right through, figuring if I'm going to be an agonised pustulent wreck anyway I might as well be useful and keep earning money. Foolishly presume Christmas Day will be off as restaurant closed that Monday, but as a favour do some hours in morning/evening in hostel so it becomes 49th consecutive day of work. In between have big meal at manager's house and made to feel part of family, which is nice when so far away from my own. Last thing manage to speak to Rhys for the first time since I left, which is great. Start to come out of the worst of the pox over next four days, when my grandma dies. Have been lucky to reach 27 with all close family intact though, so small consolation. Bad end to the year all round, and end up working until 11:50pm on New Year's Eve knowing I'll be working again in the morning, so don't go anywhere or do anything. Still, here's to a better 2007...
A belated Happy New Year to anyone who's actualyl read this far - it ended up a bit longer than I anticipated. Sorry, thank-you and goodnight. Or good-lunchtime, where you are.
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