So we woke up early this morning and packed up. I took me forever to pick out my plane outfit for some reason and i kept sneaking back up to the room when we were eating breakfast to change it again. once i finally settled, we collected our bags, all 35 of them (well not quite... but definitely no backpackers in my group) and dragged them down to the taxi waiting for us in front of the hotel. after an awesome and gorgeous drive in the taxi, we arrived at the airport, checked in, and saw some stairs that had a sign above them reading "Air Tahiti Nui". and so we climbed. After three flights of spiral stairs, luggage dragging, and attempts to tell Dad we werent going to find the runway on the 3rd floor of the airport, we emerged into a large office and were scolded by the employees. "employees only" is not the same in both languages apparantly. but anyway we finally found the real gate and plunked down all our stuff to go in the shops. I went hog wild and picked up an embroidered sling purse, 3 necklaces, 2 bracelets, some kind of chocolate nut candy, and a can of Rotui pineapple juice. dad limited me to one thing though so i got a wooden bead necklace and nonchalantly slipped the can of Rotui onto the counter at the last second. so we boarded eventually and went through the same routine as day 1. they served breakfast- guava crepes- but they were supremely gross and my opinion of airplane food slipped a few notches since day 1. I watched Taxi and National Treasure on the seatback screen and i was just starting in on Bridget Jones' Diary when all of a sudden we were landing in Auckland. Naturally, Dad fully documented our arrival with the video and still cameras and, as is becoming our legacy, we were among first off the plane and dead last leaving customs. All the customs workers had locked up and left, in fact, except for ours. and since we didnt see the back of the form they gave you on the plane, i feel quite sure that Henry was late for lunch. Henry, if you're reading this, i sincerely apologize. so we proceeded to baggage claim and dad got a REALLY squeaky smartcart. he found it sitting alone and didnt want to pay for a new one so we just endured people cringing and glaring at us. it was bloody painful on the ears, but oh well. and THEN at the rentacar place they wouldnt accept our credit card because they thought it had been stolen since we'd used it in four different cities in 3 different countries (SD, LA, papeete, Auckland) in 3 days. we finlly got that sorted out and went to claim our limey yellow Previa van... which has the steering wheel on the other side. dont get me started. anyway, we FINALLY made it to the Heritage Hotel, checked in, yada yada. So we all piled into the elevator and it wouldnt move. we thought it was broken so we moved everything to the other elevator. eventually after sitting in that one for awhile we saw the key slider. you have to slide your key to make the elevator move. then once in our room we couldnt get the ligts to turn on. we called the front desk and turns out you have to leave your key in a slot in the wall to keep the lights on. this is weird to me. so we set out on a journey to see the town before we left for Rotorua in the morning. our hotel was great... right next to everything and with a view of skytower. dad was obsessed with going to this modern art museum and even though we couldnt find it and no one wanted to go anyway, we spent forever searching for it. apparently it had moved since our guidebook had been published, which made sense because our guidebook was from 1998. dad got it from his friend who visited 7 years ago. anyway, once we found it, it turned out to be fun. not because of the art particularly though. i love painting and art, but i like things that are visually cool or impressive, not the big white canvas with a red dot in the middle. yeah i get it, "it represents society's bond with the spiritual and how we are all connected by our sins and the things we long to see but dare not say" etc etc. anyone can paint a circle and then make up a meaty paragraph about society and the human spirit. dont even try to fight me on this one. but anyway, there was one room in the museum that actually had like real paintings and old old art. there was this one painting of the most hideous girl i have ever seen. oh my gosh. it was so funny. i could not stop laughing and when i showed it to everyone else we got out of control. i tried to take a picture of it, but then realized it wasnt allowed. oh well... so then we walked down Queen Street and shopped a bit then asked someone where we should eat. she said Princess Wharf because the restaurants there were "rather flash" and we could eat by the harbor. so we got there and immediately dad spotted MexiCali. come on now, we're from San Diego. i eat mexican food for like every meal. after a 5 to 1 vote, dad went off in search of somewhere else. while he was gone we chatted with the owners of MexiCali and what do you know... they're from San Diego! they had just moved out to NZ to start up the restaurant. anyway, eventually dad came running back saying "come one, i found a great place. and the mexican price is half food" nice. so we went to check it out and it was actually a great place. with half PRICE mexican FOOD on saturday nights. but they served other stuff too, luckily. it was called the Waterfront Cafe and it was right on the harbor. in fact, our table was on a dock that kept smacking into the wall everytime the waves came in. sooo we moved tables and met our waiter, a blunt and grumpy Maori gay guy with sweat spots. not a fan of him so much. the place itself was way cute though with a great view. i had a BLT with avocado which was huge and delish. after dinner, we walked to a souvenir shop while mom and allison went to get some tea in Esquires Coffee House (those things were on every corner.. the NZ starbucks). The shop we were in was owned by a large group of Asian people who hardly spoke english. i got a pava shell ring stuck on my finger much to the dismay of the owners, but kevin eventually pulled it off with half laughing-half crying on my part. whoo that one hurt. we bought stamps and postcards, gathered alli and mom from the coffee shop and zonked out immediately upon returning to the hotel room. long and sweet day.
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