It is February 26 here, and the high will be in the lower seventies, mostly sunny. At home, in Montana, it is February 25, bitterly cold and there is a blizzard warning for Missoula. Our flight home leaves tomorrow afternoon. Yes, we are a bit reluctant to leave.
My sun burned scalp is healed, and it doesn’t feel as if my head is being boiled every time I take a shower. Nor does it feel like my head is on fire each time I go outside without a hat. I’ve stopped peeling. I’ve acclimatized to the New Zealand weather.
This is our last morning in Auckland, and our flight home is scheduled to leave at 2:50 this afternoon.
The word “last” has a special meaning for us as we are not likely to come this way again. For us “last” has more of a terminal meaning.
That is not to say that we feel bad about it, and it doesn’t mean that we are necessarily going to stop traveling. But, a journey of such a long distance as the other side of the world doesn’t have the appeal that it used to. It is more difficult and takes more of a toll on our bodies.
Part of the hardship is, of course, that airline travel has changed. True, the prices are more reasonable, but the passengers pay the price by being crowded into uncomfortable seats that are best suited for those who are the size of children. Overhead bins do not accommodate enough carry on bags, and the space below the forward seats are barely large enough for feet, let alone a small bag as well.
Traveling is also less likely to call us to foreign parts since we aren’t interested in the same things as when we were younger. We don’t feel like staying up to party with the locals, nor are we likely to get up early to beat the crowd to any particular attraction. We certainly don’t really want to put on heavy hiking boot and carry a pack as we trek up a mountain trail or into thick jungle.
So, even though we will miss the mild climate of New Zealand’s early autumn, we are not likely to seek a long journey to find a comfortable alternative to a cold winter.
I hope I don’t freeze my ass off.