This week, I received letters from both NZ Post and Canada Post asking what happened to my missing parcel that they’re both currently investigating and if I’ve talked to the other half of their dynamic duo. From snail mail to email, I also received further information that they’re not responding to each other either. So the question, I’m left with is whether or not I want to get involved in this gong show to explain to them how they screwed up. After all, isn’t it just better to cut your losses and run in situations like this!
Sadly, this all started during my final week in New Zealand when I trusted NZ Post to ship my much-loved but essentially useless crap for a low fee of around $200 per box. All in all, after a lot of calling, price comparing, and much contemplation about what’s a keeper, I decided I needed to ship 2 boxes back home. The first box made it to my house in Vancouver in record time. The second box, however, was nowhere to be seen. POOF! It’s like it vanished in thin air. I waited and waited and nothing. After much grief (I won’t bore you with the details but not only was my parcel lost, but my first request to open an investigation couldn’t be found in the system either), I was finally able to get NZ Post to start looking into what happened.
This investigation has been open for over a month now and still no answers. They can’t seem to tell me why Canada Post attempted to deliver my parcel to the wrong address despite the fact that this address is nowhere on the forms I filled out or on the parcel itself or how it wound up at the wrong post office (not my local one but the one across town). I’ve also learned that I’m not alone in this predicament as someone else I know had first delivery made to her return address and not the one listed as the delivery address. This may just be the frustration talking but with anything that’s such a headache, the lesson learned this time around is that if I ever need to ship anything anywhere, I’ll know better than to use either NZ Post or Canada Post…EVER!
I made a promise to a dutch girl I met in Raro that I would get a decent photo of Vancouver from the plane. Unfortunately, it was so overcast that the above was the best of everything I took and it’s far from the bright city lights she was hoping for. EPIC FAIL for now but I’ll try again the next time I’m at YVR!
To put it mildly, I’m not a fan of LAX. No offence to the airport itself but I just haven’t had much luck with connector flights at this particular airport for one reason or another. Sadly, I found out that I’m still cursed as nothing much changed based on my last experience. It all started when I got handed an orange express connection card upon disembarking the flight from Raro in hopes that rushing through customs would allow me to make my next flight (if I couldn’t get to the gate in time then I was advised that I would have to get myself booked on a later flight to Vancouver).
The deal this time around was that my flight from Rarotonga was so delayed that I had 30 minutes to get through customs, pick up my bags, recheck my bags, change terminals, go through LA airport security, and stroll to the gate before my flight to Vancouver started boarding. I’m no fool as I know you usually need around an hour to do all of this so with orange pass in hand, I was going to put my superhero strengths to the test. I could give you a play by play on the what it took to make that flight but I won’t. What I will say is that with a lot of queue jumping (a big thank you to everyone who let me go ahead of them in the security line!), a little luck (I got my 2 checked pieces before most people got 1), and simply running around like a maniac, I made the flight. There was no stopping at duty-free and collecting my 1.14 litres of liquor as planned but sod it! I was going to get home as anticipated instead of being stuck at LAX until who knows when and that’s worth its price in gold.
The Airline That I'll Be Flying With
I’m sitting in my room making piles of keepers, maybes, donations, and trash where the only thing that I’m certain of is that I suck at packing (sadly, this blog entry may be my way to avoid the task at hand but anyone in my shoes would do the same exact thing!). The thing is, earlier this year, I made the discussion to quit my life in NZ and in two short weeks, I’ll be setting off to anywhere but here. It was a decision that I wasn’t planning on making at this time but certain circumstances forced my hand and so here I am attempting to jam my life into two suitcases once again.
Yes, I said two suitcases as I’m now taking an extra bag despite the fact that the airline I’m flying with only allows 1 checked bag with my international ticket that cost $1749.63. At the time I booked, my rational was that a 12 day stopover in the Cook Islands on my way back to Vancouver was well worth the hassle of only 1 checked bag but I’m now starting to reconsider that. Turns out shipping anything into Canada costs a pretty penny and so I’m left with a lot of packing, weighing, unpacking before repacking it all once again. Eventually, I’ll get it right but right now its the one thing that stressing me beyond belief as there are certain sentimental items (and shoes) that I refuse to leave behind.
Categories: NEW ZEALAND, nz: auckland
Tags: Auckland, Canada, canadians in new zealand, canadians working abroad, canadians working in new zealand, canadians working overseas, change of life, live and work in new zealand, new zealand, NewZealand, travel, Travel and Tourism, travel blog, Travelogues, Vancouver, working overseas
I was recently asked if Auckland felt like home and I sat there struggling to answer. The voice in my head was screaming, “Vancouver is my home you idiot – it always has been and always will be”…for the record, that never went over well in Toronto so I knew better this time around and I tried to find a polite way to answer the question. Sadly, I failed miserably and mumbled something about travelling and quickly changed the topic.
This has been stuck in my head since a year ago today is when I landed in Auckland. I came here with a fairytale fantasy about how I was going to be this fabulous travelling gypsy. Ever since I got here, I’ve considered myself a tourist who holds a full-time job. But can you consider yourself a tourist after living and working somewhere for a year? Should I be trying to build a life here instead of plotting and planning my next getaway? What does home is where the heart is mean anyway?
All I know is that I don’t know. I don’t know if I came here for the right reasons or what the right reasons would ever be. What I do know is that despite all the ups and downs I’ve experienced, I still live here and enjoy it on most days (let’s not talk about cold nights and the lack of central heat). I may not be sure if I’ll stay permanently or move on eventually but what I do know is that I don’t have plans to go anywhere anytime soon. So even though I don’t think of this city as home, it’s the one that I’ve chosen to live in. At the end of the day that should count for something right?