Back in my time zone

Wednesday morning I got up and packed, farewells took ages and made my arrival at YBL (Campbell River Airport) late and my making my flight a closer call than it should have been. After watching Dad and a couple of his siblings waving at the plane as it took off, it was a short flight to YQQ (Comox) and then a somewhat longer (though still only about half an hour) flight to YVR (Vancouver International).
At Vancouver airport I went through US customs and in to a weird holding pen/mall, the stores took both currencies but only gave Canadian change, it counted as the US from immigration purposes but everything sold was Canadian and I'm mostly sure I was still under Canadian law, they sold prepaid Canadian Post postcards but there was no post box and the only way out of the pen was to fly to the US - so they weren't usable. The flight to SFO (San Fran) was in a much tinier plane than expected.
At San Fran I saw no customs and for the first flight all trip had no security checks at all - just a bit over three hours in another holding mall with captive audience food prices. While there were pleasantly no security checks of any sort there, the mall was depressing. Come preboarding time my passport was confiscated due to irregularities in my Returning Visa - for a couple of minutes it looked like they were going to leave me in San Fran - where I'd probably have been shipped back to Canada. Just when I started to panic a little they realised the problem was with their computer and not my passport and all was fine. I boarded the plane, this time not getting an empty sit as a neighbour, unfortunately.
The flight was long. I watched Out of the Blue and something else I will hopefully manage to recall later and then got a fair whack of sleep. I woke up with pretty much only time to watch Galaxy Quest before landing in Auckland.
New Zealand customs kept querying my accent/Canadian passport combination as if I was somehow a bit criminal to be not travelling on an NZ passport - I think they thought I was ashamed on this tinpot little country.
I got to Wellington and slept through my bus ride to Upper Hutt. I found Tina and, after ditching my luggage, headed back to Wellington with her for luch with Tasha - a friend from uni who I've had basically no contact with in the many years since. Caught up with Giffy (whose wedding-celebratory button-badge travelled with me) and then had a quiet night trying to get back into NZ sleep patterns at Tina's.
Now, Saturday morning (on a week with not Thursday) I'm lying about glad to be back in NZ, and looking forward to actually getting home.

Exiled in Sointula

Yesterday I had a quiet one hanging out with my second cousin and doing little to nothing.

This morning I was woken at 3:30am local time, at four we headed off to Victoria. We had to be at the cancer clinic by nine and were being overly cautious. We got there at about quarter to eight. After breakfast in the Royal Jubilee Hospital cafe I abandoned Granma and Norm and walked down through Victoria - taking in the tourist trappings. I looked at the stupidly old buildings and the Chinatown and the waterfront. I talked to a pretty girl with reddy purple hair, who has family from New Zealand and who turned out to work at the local porn shop. Said porn shop frightened me. Maybe Canada is more open minded, or maybe the fact I'm too much of a prude to look in porn shop normally means I've never noticed how open minded things are back home. I ought investigate, but know I never will. Prudishness wins on the day. I made it back to the hospital in surprisingly good time and we loaded up and headed back. Norm having an intense aversion to cities. The whole afternoon was spent getting back up to Campbell River. Not long after getting there, just when I was considering having a nap, I was kidnapped by my cousin(well, first cousin once removed - she's a generation up from me)'s husband and drove the other way up Vancouver Island. Pretty much all the way up. On the way seeing bears (as shown) and seeing a lot of scenery. Much of which was like ours - glacial valleys and craggy mountains formed by head on collisions between continental plates - but with much pointier trees. It was as New Zealand will look when the introduced trees win. I'm now on Sointula - an island north of Vancouver Island. It's a touch colder, but otherwise not dissimilar to Campbell River, just without the people so much.

I should probably think about sleeping at some point, though I'm concerned the early wake up might have pushed me back on to Kalamazoo/Toronto time.

Good news, postcards I thought had inadequate postage appear to be making it through anyway. Hoorah.

Sans Luggage

Kalamazoo proper was almost entirely closed. It took abut an hour to even find somewhere with postcards - and even then the range was not exciting. I ended up going to a bar and grill for dinner as I couldn't find anything else open. I generously tipped after feel bad about asking my waiter to explain how it worked. It wlso mean I had no paper money left when a beggar came at me with a hurricane Katrina sob story - to which she got angry about (this after I'd given her a couple of bucks in shrapnel). Made me feel less charitable.

The bus ride was fine, but long and I didn't manage to sleep on it. Did sleep Toronto-Niagara though, both ways. Niagara was like an even eviler Queenstown.

Got back to Toronto later than expect, host was very forgiving. Toronto is awesome. I went out in the evening and didn't feel scared walking at night in an utterly alien city. Yay Canada.
In the morning I walked to the CN Tower from where I was staying but got a bit lost on the way and thus by the time I got down the town I had less than two hours before my flight left. There was much running and subwaying. I got to the station with negative minutes to spare, but the nice Canadian let me on my plane anyway.

I got to Vancouver to be summoned to the baggage officers desk over the PA. My luggage was in Toronto. So I headed to the ferry with much less luggage than expected. Fortunately my Aunt Ellen was at the ferry terminal in Nanaimo to meet me, or I'd have been in trouble.

Now, I am Matthew the Stinky until my luggage finds me.

Postcards

I'm too lazy to sort out who I have to send postcards to, much less keep track of where they live. So, anyone who wants post cards should send an email to the following address. (I.e. my gmail address with the subject "addresses for postcards").

I make no promises though, as postage doesn't grow on trees. Well, not in a usable form.

It has been pointed out that before I homo-marry a random for the comedy value that I should probably look in to the Canuck's laws on homo-annulment.

In happier news, a point for mankind over ladykind. My conference haircut is indeed stupid. The girls in my office, as spokeswomen for all ladies everywhere where wrong. Victory to man...