Arrival

On arrival on New Zealand soil the first stop of all budding immigrants is the duty free store, the last chance to top up on reputedly cheaper booze. There were many signs comparing the cost of the duty free goods to a shop that we have yet to see in New Zealand, so obviously the boutique store of the Auckland Hilton!

After stocking up on London’s finest gin, Tanqueray, it was on to endless queues of passport control. Our choice of queue left something to be desired as the Japanese tourists’ tour leader went AWOL which lead to a total breakdown of communication between tourist and increasingly grumpy border officer, though most start pretty grumpy, so when a UK passport arrived brandished by an English speaker, it got barely a second glance.

The same could not be said of Biosecuity. The officer took one look at us, our huge baggage and decided that we were trouble. After scrutinising my walking boots, which we were wearing to reduce weight, he decided that I had too much mud on the soles. After entreaties that we had attempted to clean them, he relented and agreed that the few specks of dried mud between the tread was not a significant risk to the future of the Kauri trees.

The next stage was off to the Apollo hire depot and the myriad of forms that enable one to drive a £40,000 campervan.