The adventure begins!  After two years of talking about it and months of licensure and immigration hoops jumped through, I got on the plane with my Resident's Visa in hand.  And immediately I began to ask, just what the hell am I thinking?  I'm going, alone, thousands of miles away - no wife, no friends, no family, no car, no dogs, no guitars, no bike.

I left Sacramento in the morning bound for LAX and an eight hour layover.  No, it wasn't time to fire the travel agent, there was a plan here.

I used the time to pay a visit to some of my favorite people in the world.  Julie is my cousin by a former marriage but a cousin for life.  She is a dear, as is her husband Phill.  Her parents are the esteemed Dick and Dee Peterson.  Dick taught me how to sail, and that alone puts him in my hall of fame.  Even if he had not, he would still be there because he, as well as Deedee are two of the nicest, warmest people you will ever meet.  Skipper Dick, I, and the rest caught up telling the old stories about onions on the grill, sailing on Chablis, the trailer at Mission Bay, and fishing stories I knew by heart only from the hearing.  It was a great day.

The next 14 hours involved two airplanes and waiting but Air New Zealand ran flawlessly as usual.

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The first two days were pretty nice with broken clouds and a pleasant enough temperature-shorts and a sweatshirt did the trick.  The next two were rainy; inviting depression to take hold.  Sunday is gloriously - bright but cold (overnight at freezing). During these days, I wound my way around town and a bit beyond.

Searching for a long term rental, it was provided to me by the innkeeper where I spent the first 3 nights.  Her neighbor (Eve) two doors down had a flat to rent in her two story home.  I took it immediately.  Two bedrooms, nice kitchen, and the usual funky toilet by itself in one room and a sink, shower and washing machine in another.  It is convenient to the store, the CBD (Central Business District), a breakfast place; but more importantly, it has a killer view.

click on pictures to enlarge

My favorite cafe, The Fatted Aphid, was also closed.  The reason it is my favorite is not that they make a fantastic flat-white (think cappuccino with steamed milk floating on top - in a real cup, not paper) which they do, but that they have the only WiFi in the area.  And it works even when they are closed, I discovered.

The rest of this nice day will be watching the Olympics and minding the stove.

Yesterday was pleasant, I walked the town in shorts but with three layers up top.  Met with a dentist to discuss working here.

Politics take a minor role on TV and the paper, at least as compared to the US.  There is a mention here and there every day but they do not hang on every word or have a panel of “experts” to flap their lips over a missed semi-colon.  Odd, once the London press was considered disreputable by Americans because of its sensationalism.  Now the US press is so intrusive, pervasive and inflammatory that I am surprised there isn't a reporter in Obama's bedroom to analyze what his sleeping on his tummy means. If he is pointed to the east, I'm sure the fools at Fox would claim it indicates his radical Islamic leanings.

Rained all night and is now drippy.  My landlady just brought me an umbrella to use and invited me to come up for tea anytime.

Off to town! 

Yesterday I threw in the towel and made the investment in a wireless broadband stick/service for my laptop.  No more trudging thirteen blocks to the Fatted Aphid for free WiFi and a flat white.  The gent at the telecom store, Mike, engaged me in conversation about my plans and expectations.  Originally from the UK, he lived in Australia for years before moving to Auckland three years ago.  He is returning to Oz at the end of November and cannot wait to leave.  He finds Tauranga provincial and cliquish. Not a bad life at all, he quickly pointed out, just not all he hoped for.  At the end of our transaction, he gave me his home number inviting me to call he and his wife -- perhaps a cup of coffee or a beer. My application for service would take a couple hours to process but Mike offered for his co-worker to drop the device off at my home later!

Unfortunately, she did not find me last evening.  With the rain, the dark and the house number on one street and the front door on another, she was confused and packed it in. 

So I retrieved the wireless stick from town, enjoyed a meat and mushroom pie on the walk back, and settled in to making long calls to some friends and family back in California.

Writing on the computer, the calls, and a slew of emails filled the afternoon.  Then a walk to the store for a few provisions ended with a surprise.  Ever had a kiwi (the fruit)? I thought I had.  This is my third trip here but the first time I have eaten a kiwi (the fruit) in country.  Tauranga is less than ten minutes from the kiwi capital of the country and I presume the world, so it was probably not long off the tree.  It bore no relationship to any kiwi I'd ever had (still the fruit).  The ones in the states, while tasty, are a tart cross of sour grape and bland melon.  This one was like the sweetest grape you have ever had with the clean finish of cantaloupe.  Bought for a dollar a bag at an honor stand a couple blocks away, they were like candy.

Nothing more to report.  Thanks to everyone who has encouraged me in this adventure both directly and second-hand.  I truly appreciate the good wishes; they move me beyond my second guessing and make living without my people about me a bit easier.