After spending two months on the couches and in the spare rooms of our exceedingly gracious and wonderful family and friends, we are finally off to begin the next round of our adventure.
Waiting for the airport was far more anxiety inducing than I would have imagined. My stomach was churning at the realization that I was leaving for 6 months, and I had the familiar sensation that I was completely unprepared for what was to come. It's kind of my MO when traveling. I don't plan much at all, I research enough to have some vague idea of what I'll do when I get there, then I leave the rest to chance, and good luck. It usually works out, but man does it make me sweat.
Regardless of the lack of planning, we approached the airport check in counter confidently, with passports in hand. We stood ready to surrender our bags and walk freely and easily through to the security gate... Until we were told that with no flight booked out of New Zealand, we would not be flying into New Zealand... oh. We probably should have known that.
Without much hesitation, we surmised that we needed to buy our next leg flight out of New Zealand in the next 15 minutes. We looked at each other, processing that information, and said, "Okay... that can be done..." but then we had to decide, "Where should we go?"
We huddled in a corner of the airport and began searching for flights out of New Zealand to our likely destinations. I was absolutely shaking with nerves. Something about being told you did something wrong at the airport really gives me the jitters.
We settled on a flight to Vietnam, giving ourselves 6 weeks in New Zealand. The man checking us in gave us only a little grief ("You should really go online and see what a country requires for entry," "...yeah... thanks"), and we felt only a little stupid, but then we were on our way.