February 7: 21 time zones away

Our Boeing 747 settles gently onto  tarmac at Nadi, Fiji in the dark, early morning. It is a huge plane, three stories high, with two levels of seats set 10 across in  a row. So when 458 blurry-eyeds emptied into the small immigration area, hustle got to bustling, and quickly. Groups of eager kids, clad in beachware and backpacks split off, heading for Fijian beaches and fun. But the bulk of the crowd queued up in an enormous snake of a line, heading for the transit lounge, that no-man's land of debatable sovereignty. Then, magically, music burst out. Four handsome local men, clad in bright, polynesian shirts and skirts strummed guitars and started in song...and...sang...and sang... They sang Fijian pop, Fijian ballads, Fijian soul, Fijian folk. And our line moved v e r y  s l o w l y. And they sang on. And the line only crept forward. Then, a tourist placed a tip in the empty tip box $, then another $$, then another $$$. And the boys sang on, with even more enthusiasm and broader smiles. More tips, more singing. More singing, more tips. And as soon as the line had dwindled, the singers just disappeared into the shadows to await the next flight. Opportunism and entrepreneurism on the other side of the world. Gotta love it.

Our last flight leg is a quick 3 hours to Auckland, New Zealand and the sun of 21 time zones away splashes on us as we deplane. Our boxes, a bit worse for wear, are claimed (it's okay that bike parts are sticking thru the cardboard in places, right?), and it's quickly thru immigration and customs.  John Smith meets us and we are promptly loaded up and scooting south to Papakura, a rural suburb of Auckland. John and his lovely wife Mary run Heronsnest B & B, which sits aside the Pahurehure Inlet of Manukau Harbour off the Tasman Sea. Our room is but one glass door away from acres of bay, which turn to muddy, tidal flats twice a day, attracting a host of stilts, herons, ducks and other shorebirds, feasting on succulent invertebrates, mollusks and estuarine worms.

Into Papakura to get a NZ cel phone set up and quick peek around and back for...
Happy Hour and our first bottle of the famed Marlborough Sauvignon. Tremendous! Lovely! We feasted on a dinner of rack of  lamb, spuds, fresh green beans, salad and homemade fruitcake to fill the cracks. Sleep of the dead follows.

Zzzzzzzz...