The flight from Dallas to Los Angeles was only remarkable in that, although the TSA managed to prevent me from boarding the plane with a weapon of mass destruction cleverly disguised as my toothpaste, they failed to catch the fact that I had a box cutter in my jacket pocket.
This caused some stir among the TSA staff in Los Angeles, I can assure you. No cavity searches for me, though.
I did get a chance to see the fires over California, which was quite a chilling sight indeed.
The 13 hour flight to New Zealand was uneventful. I was sandwiched between two old ladies and miraculously slept most of the way. I woke up on Friday, having skipped Tuesday due to time zones.
To my joy I had very little jet lag. To my horror I discovered that my rental car was a manual and so I bunny-hopped half-way down the motorway till I swapped with Sarah and she drove for me. Once I had an automatic car I drove down to visit my parents (yes, the same day I arrived in the country). The next week, on Tuesday, I was back to work.
I have since been living in a hotel, working during the day and trying to find a place to live at night. So far I have been unsuccessful and my time here at the hotel ends on Friday, so I will be sleeping on Sarah’s couch for a while till I am able to find a place to live.
I promise to write more once I am settled.