We Take Ourselves With Us

On Day 4, we set off for the South Island, leaving the assorted Davis, Davies, Gransden and Pollard family members behind.  We said goodbye to them and to our much loved view ... ... and arrived at the sunny, windy Rotorua airport for the first of three (!) flights we would have that day as we made our way to Dunedin. It was weird to realize that NZ airports in smaller cities have no security checkpoints.  We just walked up to the gate area, which was about half a Robert Harris restaurant, with our bags and plopped down over delicious flat whites, smoothies, and yummy breakfast.  Like we had gone back to a more innocent time when travel was a leisurely affair with few worries in mind. One section of the small airport was dedicated to a nicely arty memorial to NZ aviator Jean Batten, of whom none of us had ever heard anything before.  Glamorous and fearless, Jean led a life filled with danger, accomplishment, and a deep, abiding attachment to her mo...

Somehow, Santa found us all--even though we were thousands of miles from home (8,678.1 miles as the crow flies to be exact).  The time shift meant that our NZ Christmas was the day before our friends and family were celebrating back home, leading to some Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter cognitive dissonance. Despite the change in scenery, Christmas morning in Rotorua was about the same as everywhere: too many gifts, lots of bed-head, early morning faces, and energetic children.  Some scenes from our NZ holiday: Beach towels ... because it is summer! Christmas hats, sweaters, and t-shirts in full effect. Many Trey and Cody gifts (bc we had an early Christmas in ROC already!) Curtains still closed from our star gazing on Christmas Eve :) So many Davii Make-up from NZ?  Yes, please. A stocking filled with NZ candy and trinkets?  Yes, please. A murderous shark beach toy?  Yes, please. Someone always goes one ...