Its very quiet here at Christchurch airport … Heathrow will come as a shock. I’m blogging from the lounge, reflecting on a wonderful few weeks, all the new and not so new places I’ve visited and, most importantly, all the friendly people I’ve met.
Its a cliché but travel does broaden the mind. we all have so much in common, the small things differ …
Light switches in NZ flick up for on, down is off, in some places orange traffic lights are redundant, wherever you are people prefer summer to winter. The US has yellow school buses, Tehran has yellow taxis, autumn leaves are yellow everywhere. We speak different languages even when the grammar and vocabulary seem the same –the kiwis make pavs, drink sav, take their togs to the beach. Learning one local word like salam in Shiraz means children giggle and mothers smile.
Champagne is best drunk with friends on the Sydney Opera House Terrace, Pohara Beach is my idea of paradise, I’m still dreaming about white herons & pied stilts and, oh dear, I’ve just had to pay to leave NZ.