I caught the plane from Santiago without having the opportunity to say goodbye to the new Israeli friends I had made, Gui and Mattan. I had been updating my blog and wishing my friends and family happy new year in advance before I flew. Before I knew it, it was quarter past seven, and I had to get to the hostel and then catch a taxi to the airport by half past! I ran back, and fortunately, a couple had already booked the hostel's shuttle to take them. I quickly changed trousers, and off we went. It saved me a huge amount - only 2000 Chilean Pesos as opposed to 22 dollars or 11000 CP.
In the airport, I decided I was going to have fun at new years one way or another! So, I bought my favourite Guylian Belgian chocolates (the seashell ones) and some small bottles of wine and I was set. It was just as well I did do this, because the most exciting thing that happened on the plane was the pilot doing a count down and then saying 'happy new year.' There was some subdued clapping and then the airhostesses went back to serving dinner.
12 hours and 40 minutes later, we had touchdown. We had missed 1st January altogether, due to the time difference, and touched down in Auckland at half four. By the time I'd got my bag, found a shuttle bus that would take me to my youth hostel and arrived, it was six am. I was outraged that the shuttle bus driver told me I'd pay 20 NZ dollars as I was on my own, but two girls that had met on the plane got to pay 16 NZ dollars because they were 'together.' 'But we're all going to the same place!' I said. The shuttle driver shrugged his shoulders expressively, as if to say, 'I've explained the best way I can, she just doesn't understand' and one of the girls said authorititavely, 'Don't worry, I'll explain it to you later.' 'I understand what's going on, I just think its unfair,' I said. So, hint to travellers out there, it'll save you money if you hook up with someone else going to your youth hostel before getting in a shuttle. I know to do this in the future to save money. Grrrrr!
Well, at 6am it seemed silly to me to go to bed, it would have really messed up my body clock. Instead, I had a shower and went to Starbucks for brekkie with Sacha, one of the girls that had come to the same hostel as me. We had a chat and relaxed over gorgeous sandwiches and coffee. The temperature was so different in Auckland than Chile, it was really noticable. There was no humidity, and although it was sunny, we were a little chilly, being used to such hot weather. It was like England on a sunny March day. We could read every street and shop sign and could speak to people without any difficulty - it was amazing! Auckland reminds me very much of England and its comforting. The smallest things excited us - good coffee and tea, sandwiches and Subway (what a great shop) and supermarkets with things we recognised.
We ended up meeting up with the other girl on the plane Sacha had met, who had been for a nap while we ate, and going to an aquarium called Kelly Tarlton's Artic Underworld Aquarium. There, we saw divers hand-feed stingrays and turtles and I booked to learn how to scuba and to swim with sharks in a couple of days time.
The next day, I went to the Auckland Museum and saw a Maori performance, where dancers did the haka, which translates into 'dance' but is famously known for being the warrior dance that tribes did before war, to pysch themselves up and scare their opponents. The men do a more vigorous dance, smacking their palms against their chests, jumping, and yelling the song out, sticking out their tongues to show their manliness. The women shiver their arms and fingers and make their eyeballs bulge to show their feminity and to support the men. They also showed the audience their traditional game of poi, where two light balls are hung on the end of strings and swung around, one in each hand. The purpose of this was to increase the maori's hand/eye coordination and increase body responses. Another game that the maori would traditionally play is with two short sticks: the sticks are banged together and thrown to other players. The performers showed us that it was possible to practice in a big group, swapping direction, and throwing the sticks simultaneously and diagonally to others. It was impressive to watch and back in the day would have helped young maori warriors to hone their reflexes and periforal vision to help in battle.
That day, I found out that New Zealand is traditionally known as, 'The Land of the Long White Cloud.' 'New Zealand,' might be snappier, but the original name is more appropriate for such a mystic country, full of so many natural wonders.
Swimming with sharks has been my dream, and nightmare since I first saw Jaws with my Dad and brother in our study. Then, I remember shrieking and grabbing Dad's arm with fear and excitement as the shark struck and saying 'urrrggghhh that's dis-GUST-ing.' Not much has changed, other than its not so easy to get away with that response now. So, I decided to face my fear and do a combined scuba one day course and a shark dive in the same day with a break for lunch.
Scuba diving is a fantastic, if slightly disorientating experience. The sheer shock of having cold water over your entire face is a shock to the system. Your mind keeps telling you, 'you shouldn't be able to do this - somethings not right. You should get your head out of the water.' After a while though, when you get used to the fact that its a little harder to breathe (you have to wait a nerve-wracking split second for the suction of your breathe to draw in oxygen from the tank, and it can seem like a lifetime) I really began to relax and enjoy the experience. All too soon, it was time to get out of the pool and relax before the afternoon session with our toothy fishy friends.
That afternoon, there was one other diver, who turned out to be a fifty year old Dad whose children had bought it for him as a birthday present (I asked if they'd had a fight before his birthday) and another safety diver. Our female Dive Master reminded us not to wee in our wetsuits as urine is a prey indicator, and cheerily waved us into the changing rooms to get geared up.
The Dad told me that a good reason to wear a full body wetsuit, including diving boots, gloves and head cover was that sharks had rough skin, like sandpaper. They can brush past things they don't recognise curiously, and if we didn't have the wetsuits on we might bleed and then life could get interesting. I'm not sure if the sharks are trying to make the new life bleed or not, but I made a point of double-checking my wetsuit after that piece of wisdom.
Our female Dive Master showed us her 'shark stick,' a pole about a meter long. When asked if it was for bashing the sharks if they became rowdy, she said no, it was for 'guiding' any curious sharks away. She laughed and said that once, when she was new, she had submerged to the tank bed from above without looking where she was going... and landed on a shark, in a sitting position! The shark had swum off, extremely bewildered and probably feeling a little paranoid. It hadn't nipped or attacked her, although it must have been pretty rattled. 'If it didn't attack me then, I don't know what would make it today.'
She also drew our attention to a safety cord, not dissimilar from that of a train's safety pull cord. I remember thinking to myself, 'would you have the time to pull the cord, though? Its at the top of the aquarium.' On that thought, the safety diver opened the gate into the main aquarium and waiting for a break in the circles of the sharks, waved us through one at a time. It felt really exciting and risque, as I swam I remember the scene in one of the early James Bond films, where James is trapped in a shark infested pool and saves himself by waiting underneath the underwater tunnel they swim through into the main tank and then swimming through it to the other tank.
Once in the aquarium, I started looking on the seabed for sharks teeth, and found lots! While I was groping in the gravel, I heard a tapping noise. Looking up, I saw some spectactors on the inside the shark tunnel pointing out some shark teeth for me. I waved and smiled automatically... not a good idea, the breathing tube started to get dragged out of my mouth! I stopped smiling and looked around at the huge fish swimming within a metre and a half of my head. They didn't look so fearsome up close. They looked bored and I felt a little sorry for them. Irritatingly, my weights were so heavy I couldn't swim gracefully around, I ended up shuffling on my knees around the tank, as she had instructed us too. At one point we had to cross the protruding shark tunnel and I had to push myself over it! Feeling frustrated, sure that one of the buttons would help, I started indicating that I wanted to add air (and through that, more boyancy) to my vest. She indicated 'no,' and I shuffled on. I should have just done it anyway, but when you are five or six meters below the surface and have sharks swimming above your head its not the best time to argue.
The shark swimming lasted about 25 minutes in all, but it was a wonderful 25 minutes and I'm glad I did it! I still have some shark teeth now as a momento of the day.
Deciding that time was speeding by and that it would be good to see some other places before I met up with Gez, my flatmate from the UK that is meeting me in just over a week, I booked a couple of Magic Bus tours. One went to the Bay of Islands in the north and returned to Auckland, and the other is a trip down south, through Rotarua and Taupo to finish in Wellington. From there, I bought a ferry and train deal special to Christchurch, to land one day before Gez arrives. Chatting to a lovely Malaysian girl who was in my dorm, I decided I liked Auckland.
For other travellers reading this page, a good place to stay in Auckland is either The Kiwi International Hotel and Hostel, at the top of Queenstreet (the steep part on the hill) for $20 per night, or Coner's Topfloor Hostel, 15-31 Wellesley St West, at $18 per night.
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