I left Auckland today and made it to Wellington. The flight there was nice enough, but the Kiwis do not fuck around with baggage allowance. They actually weigh carry on baggage at the gate, then charge you to store it if it is over 7kg. Security was also so quick. I forgot what it is like in other countries where you do not have to be stripped searched before boarding a plane. I also forgot that I upgraded and was one of the only people on the flight to get a meal. I landed in Hobbit Country and was greeted by Gandalf riding a giant Eagle, apparently a noble race in the Lord of the Rings lore.
I got the shuttle bus to the city center, and it dropped me off a few blocks away from my hostel. Apparently, Queen Elizabeth stayed here on her coronation tour in 1953, and it hasn’t been updated since. Luckily, there was laundry on site. I did a super clean, which meant everything, even the clothes I was wearing, including my underwear. I ate my dinner and had one bottle of cider, but that wasn’t cutting it, so I got two more for a local grocery store. Since technically I was not allowed to have them in the room, I snuck them in like I was back in college. I had some cute Irish girls as roommates, again, in-country to work like their other European compatriots. I will only be in Wellington for two days until I take my ferry to the South Island.
Today I am one whole week into my adventure. I traversed Wellington, the capital of New Zealand. They open the doors of parliament for tours one day a week, which just so happened 
to be today. I got a coffee at a cafe adjacent to Parliament, which was also a library. Sitting, drinking my coffee, I read the local newspaper and was pleasantly surprised about what made news in the country over my own.
After coffee, I headed to Parliament for my tour. Our tour guide was a saucy Pole by the name of Violeta. She asked where we all were from, and among many visitors from the Commonwealth, I got crickets when I said, New Orleans. Even after a two-hour tour, I still don’t understand the NZ parliamentary system. They have no upper house like parliaments the world over, but committees that decide which laws are good and which laws are bad for a populace of roughly 4 million people after public discourse. One of the things I knew about their prime minister was that she was a militant feminist. I remember her bringing her child to the UN assembly. But it went much deeper than that. There is a social club within parliament where women were relegated to the back of the room, immortalized in photos—kind of sucky, but whatever. Jacinda Ardern made it a point, with all the other female representatives of Aotearoa, to pose in exactly the same position as all the long-dead men that once occupied these exact physical and governmental positions, even though New Zealand was the first country to allow women the right to vote. Suddenly, the crossing lights that instead of men were suffragettes made sense.
One of the things that stuck out to me that I wish we had in the American capital was in their Chamber; they had all the battles and wars that New Zealanders lost their lives as a reminder to every politician that their actions have real life and death consequences. I got chided a little for asking about an inscription over the Parliament chair (George V’s signature) by crown subjects, which was unbeknownst to me as I am my own sovereign.
I then went to the Te Papa New Zealand museum. They had a harrowing exhibit about Gallipoli with giant detailed figures of soldiers. They were so lifelike, even though being over ten feet tall, they had beads of sweat running from their pores that only the fear of battle could induce. It was very moving.
Again, there was a disheartening amount of disrespect as a group of teenage girls could not stop giggling while walking among trench life dioramas, but it was not my place to say anything. I walked around the rest of the museum that had Maori artifacts, including a ceremonial hut one could enter, but had seen enough and was hungry. I went and had lunch, then came back to rest. As I knew I had some time and wanted to make sure I knew exactly where I needed to go, I walked to the Interisland Ferry only to find that there is a free shuttle right across the street at the train station. Wellington reminds me of Honolulu mixed with the Hollywood Hills, with lots of beautiful homes overlooking the harbour. Being an interesting cultural center of New Zealand, there was even a dance performance in the train station.
The next morning, I got up way too early after not sleeping that well to begin with. This would become a common theme on my voyage. I said goodbye to my new Irish friend Jeanine and went and got the previously scouted shuttle to the ferry. I left the day my bed in my hostel went from a few dollars a night to over $50 NZD as Eminem was coming to perform in Wellington, and the entire nation was coming to see him.
I was all ready to go to the South Island. As I was alone, I knew I needed to find a seat where I could secure my bags. I got on the ship and found a seat. I then took a look around the boat. It was very impressive. There was an observation deck, lounges, expensive lounges, lounge singers, and a play place for kids. 3.5 hours flew by, especially with such beautiful scenery. Dolphins swam by our ferry as we passed through the fjords of New Zealand’s untouched wilderness. We docked in Picton, and I made sure I was my body was empty of fluids before the 6-hour ride on a bus without bathrooms. The bus gingerly arrived 55 minutes late. Not a good start. I made my way to the second floor of the double-decker bus and sat down in front of the observation window. As we traversed the road heading south, The South Island opened up to me: the sea, the plains, the forests, the mountains with snow, and the sky, all in one great vista. It reminded me of the Pacific Northwest and the Pacific Coast Highway. It was beautiful. We stopped at Kaikoura, a small town about halfway, where I got some sushi for lunch, then continued. I got to the hostel right when the hostel front desk closed but contacted them to let them know I would be running late. I finally found the place, let myself in, dropped my bags, then headed out to get some dinner. Subway was closed at 9 (on a Friday?), so the only thing open was an Indian restaurant. It was so good. I then sauntered back to my hostel, took a shower, and went to sleep.
