Well this is going to be short and sweet, unless you ask me for the detailed version. Oh, you want the detailed version? Thanks for asking! Today Colin and myself, two students from the University of New South Wales, left Sydney for Christchurch en route to the South Pole. We won't get there for a few days yet but we are finally, after the longest week of my life, on our way.

The alarm went off far too early, as alarms are wont to do. After tossing and turning with every possible missing-the-plane, losing-my-passport nightmare I felt decidedly sluggish to say the least. I reassured myself that there was a 100% chance that I had forgotten something vital to the success of our trip but at this stage if I hadn't remembered what it was then I wouldn't before the plane left. Now I know that for international flights you are supposed to arrive two hours early for your flight, which was advertised as 12:20pm (I use the term "advertised" on purpose, as you will see), which translates to an arrival time of 10:20am. However, my significant other and I managed to miss a plane last year and are now fanatically paranoid about getting to the airport with plenty of time, meaning that although we told ourselves we would leave home at 9:40am (already leaving us plenty of time), by that time we were parking the car and unloading the bags.

So arriving at the airport 2 hours and 40 minutes early for the flight, we were comforted by the fact that the line for the check-in was approximately forty miles long and it would take us that long just to get to the front. This was only comforting for about twenty minutes, when Colin showed up, pointed out that since our itinerary (mistakenly) said first class we should try to check in at the first class desk and whisked us away. Ten minutes later we were checked in (not into first class seats though unfortunately!) and there were still more than two hours until the plane left!

Needless to say the Sydney International Airport is full of diversions, be they interesting or not. So Colin and I said goodbye to our respective other halves, showed our passports to anyone who asked to see them (some of them may have even been for official reasons) and waited at the gate. Unfortunately at this stage, since it had been raining and thundering all morning, the catering company decided that carting food between a metal truck and a metal plane on a metal walkway with a metal trolley in the middle of an electrical storm was a bit too much to ask and threw in the towel. Wusses. I offered to help but I don't think they took me seriously. After half an hour or so we were finally on the plane!

Although I was in seat "E" which is the middle seat of seven, as we were flying over the south island I could see random snowy-capped peaks out of either side of the plane, and Colin and I even think we saw Mount Cook. Well it was big, and white. So it could have been! We landed, disembarked and proceeded to show our passports several more times. If the system could be streamlined so that we showed it once at either end I would be very appreciative. Someone please direct me to the proper authorities to whom I can address this request. And my passport never even got stamped! But they did let us in (a photo of Colin trying not to look suspicious should be attached), and we were greated by a very adorable dog (he should be in another photo). The lady in front of us got sniffed out, had her bag checked and was found to be carrying... Mentos! She didn't get hauled away though - they save their rough treatment for people like Suze.

We were greeted by an impressive reception committee - a red-parkaed RSPC employee and two military men in fatigues. I was a bit concerned about Colin again for a moment until we realised the fatigues were there to greet a general, not two students from UNSW! We were led to the bank where I got my first NZ money. It's just like Australian money except all the colours are different and shopkeepers keep looking at me funny when I pull out a pink note, stare at it for awhile and finally hand it over. And don't get me started on the coins (why would you have the $2 coin bigger than the $1 coin? What nonsense!).

We drove past the Antarctic centre (another photo) and as I was admiring it from afar Colin leant over and said "It's not very big, is it?". I looked at him oddly, wondering if he was expecting something the size of, say, a space shuttle hangar. I, at least, thought it was adequately large. We were taken to our beautiful bed and breakfast, Turret House, run by the wonderfully friendly Mark and Pam, where I was delighted to finally lie down on a ginormous king-sized bed.

We finally decided after a bit of a relax to try and sniff out Doug and Kevin, two of the NASA Ames people also working on the Vulcan South Project (which is what Colin and I are going to attempt to fix!). We knew they were staying at Croyden House, and we even remembered the first letter of the street that it was on ("A"!). But we figured Christchurch wasn't that big and were quite validated in this thought when we did eventually find it. We were introduced to Doug and Fred (Kevin's replacement) and headed out for tea.

If you are ever in Christchurch, and happen to be a fan of the Beatles, you have to go to Sargent Pepper's Steakhouse. It is near Cathedral Square and it is a lot of fun. It is a Beatles themed restaurant, with dishes like "The Salad of John and Yoko" and "Eleanor Ribeye". Toss in a lot of Beatles memorabilia and some cool Beatles' tunes playing in the background and you have my vision of dining heaven. I think the food was even good but that was beside the point!

Anyway, to cut a long story less long, we eventually got back to Turret House and I curled up to sleep in anticipation of my ECW (extreme cold weather) clothing fitting on the morrow.
- Jessie