Continuing with the travelogue -
On our 8th day in Tonga we left Tongatapu and flew to New Zealand. Kaci and Salesi said goodbye to us in Auckland, and Erik and I took a connecting flight down to Christchurch on the South Island.
Our plan was to rent a car and make our way over to Queenstown, where six days later, we would fly home from. I don't know what I was thinking when I rented our car.
I'm lying. I know what I was thinking - SAVE MONEY. So, I rented the cheapest, smallest, powerless, manual car I could find. Poor Erik. Not only did he have to drive on the left side of the road, but he also had to shift with his left hand as well. It was so terrifying for me as a passenger, that I couldn't fathom driving. All I could think when we were on the road was, "Stay on the left. Left side, left side." So, he did all the driving. What a man.
I used to think that the secret to a successful marriage is a dishwasher, but that has now been overruled by the GPS. The best thing we did before this trip was to purchase the New Zealand maps for our GPS. It made everything less stressful because we didn't have to interpret maps or fight over directions. Not that we ever fight.
I loved Christchurch. I don't remember loving a city this much since Chambery, France. It reminded me a lot of England, but younger. The people were incredibly friendly and the city was full of parks.
We stayed at this bright pink Bed and Breakfast across the street from the Botanical Gardens. Coming from a week in Tonga, it felt like we had entered another universe.
Breakfast included exotic fruit we had never heard of, pastries, gourmet cheeses, meats, cereal, fancy pizza, and yogurt.
We did all the tourist stuff like take a gondola ride up for a view of Lyttelton Harbor and Christchurch.
We visited this beautiful old cathedral and ended up staying for about 30 minutes to listen to a service that was completely sung.
We laughed at all the school uniforms. These particular ones reminded me of Harry Potter for some reason.
I pretended to make phone calls in all the phone booths. Real mature, I know, but I couldn't resist.
We visited this idiotic art gallery that had exhibits called "Logs" with a pile of logs and "Rocks" with a pile of rocks. It was free and I still felt jipped.
Mamma Mia! Excuse the blurry cell phone picture, but I had to prove that Erik was there. There were about 50 women to every 1 man. The crazy women were almost as entertaining as the show.
Tomorrow, I will wrap up the travelogue with the trip to Queenstown and home. Then I will return to blogging about my normal, vacation-less, boring life, I promise.