Over the rainbow

The kids have been heavily into the Wizard of Oz for a good while now. I've no idea how many times we've watched it since Elly first saw it at school – 50? 100? – nor how long it will take before the "Ding, dong, the witch is dead" earworm will leave our heads. Years, probably. We naturally brought the DVD with us and they're watching it for the second time today as I type. I always loved it but never really scrutinised its "message" before. This morning – very, very early this morning, thanks to the little one's body clock still being on Singapore time – I watched it with them again and it suddenly occurred to me that the pertinence of the film to our current carry-on might run much deeper than its title.

The "Oz" thing lost most of it's relevance when we decided to move here instead (although, as Nik pointed out, it's so very nearly the Wizard of Nz... yeah, ok, it was dead funny at 5 this morning..) and even the no-place-like-home, grass-is-always-greener theme is a bit on the thin side. No, it was the stuff the main characters are seeking that seemed to ring true to my heavily jet-lagged noggin, and the realisation that my head, heart and courage really are all present and correct, despite my faith in them waning at times. Some of the stuff we've seen and done since we got here has tested them all, the last two days.

Nothing serious, just a few incidences of, "o god, what have we done..", starting with the Airport Garden Hotel. What a dump. I mean it was clean and everything, just in the middle of an industrial estate and totally run down, with a sad, derelict ex-water feature at the entrance, weird, dated decor and cheesy cane furniture in the lobby. Big framed posters hang crookedly on every wall, their colours bleached out to an almost monochrome blue. It's all summed up by two big, brass & glass display cabinets in the lounge, both spotlessly clean, one empty, the other neatly laid out with five Mars bars, fifteen packs of Kleenex and a roll of Sellotape. Classy.

Still, that was just a temporary stopover until we got our little holiday let, which is a complete contrast. It's just a timber two-room bungalow set in the owner's grounds but it's gorgeous, like something out of Homes & Gardens. Big, mature plants and trees are set against towering virgin forest, the first blooms of Spring are all around, the long driveway lined with huge wild lillies. At the end, you go over the bridge to the turquoise waters of the bay. This is a stunning country, moreso than we ever imagined, and we've still not even left the suburbs of Auckland. We're actually in the Botany Downs, just on the outskirts of the south-eastern 'burbs, where the landscape goes from flattish to very hilly around the coast. Still very difficult to navigate, never mind describe, so I'll leave it for now...

There's a hell of a lot to take in of course. We had another OMG moment when we visited Niki's new school. It's in Otara, one of the poorest districts, and although it's very low-rise, with broad avenues and gardens, the housing is clearly really basic and there's a real ghetto feel to the place. You can almost see why gang culture is so big there, but I also got a sense of civic pride and community I've not felt since I lived in Sudan. First impressions, nothing more, are a mixture of intimidation and awe. NZ has a famously high crime rate that seems to be heavily concentrated in these urban areas. You get out into the sticks and it's all sheep and seabirds. One more reason we'll be heading out there...

Got to end here and get this posted up – our lovely landlady Lorraine has offered us use of her computer. More news soon from the yellow brick road!

In transit

This was the hilarious state of play on arrival at Heathrow. We hired a nice car and bombed it down the M1 (actually M1 / M42 / M40, should there be any route nerds reading..) arrived bang on time and E & O were just fab the whole way. A good cry seemed to be therapeutic, cos they were just wonderful all through the enormous check-in queue too. We're in Changi airport now, overnighting airside at the Amabassador Transit Hotel. It's... well, it's got two beds, so it's a bloomin' godsend. The flight was no bother, although we're not going to see the best of the place from here.

From my centre aisle seat, straining an envious eye through the window seat headrests, following a 12-hour flight and probably due to having precisely one hours' sleep in the last 24, urban Singapore looks like one of those magic domino exhibitions. Hundreds of apartment blocks become white tiles, a certain distance apart, their dark windows spoiling it slightly by making up too many spots. As we're not going to get out of the airport this time round, that's the way it'll be remembered; a big climate-controlled, bizarrely-carpeted shopping mall surrounded by jumbo jets, with nearby suburbs ready to fall at the flick of a finger. Really must make more of an effort to get out next time ;)

We're all completely fried and need to get some kip, so I'll keep this short. Actually the kids slept quite well – flight took in their normal bedtime hours – and since they've had a bath and spoken to the grandparents on the Skype they're bouncing round the room like newborn lambs. It's one of those places, Changi airport, where a passing glance into the hollow eyes of fellow travellers sparks a vague recognition of yourself: everyone's six timezones the wrong side of zomboid. It's nine at night now, we've got this hotel room til 6am then an 8.30am, second-leg, 10 hour flight to Auckland. Excited beyond belief of course, but it won't be that keeping us awake, it'll be the kiddy bodyclock refusing to budge from UK time...

Next post from New Zealand!

So long, farewell...

What a great trip to Spain that was. From the moment we landed there was a strong feeling of being home at last, probably because we were there en famille, mixed with an awareness of it being the last time for a long time. It was a bit harder for Elly, as she's old enough to remember but too young to make sense of it, so she was a bit freaked out at first. The little 'un just dived on in, chatted away in Oggis-speak and cavorted about with his toy cars. They both ended up having a lovely time, staying up dead late, running wild and terrorising the high seas.

Whenever we've popped over during the last six months it's been without them, a solo mission for one thing or another so it felt very temporary; this time there was a curious permanence about everything, almost as if we were staying, alongside the fact that we're about to leave for NZ, as if it was for ever. Getting together with friends felt like we'd never been away, it was like putting on a favourite pair of jeans that fit so snug and comfortable, you quickly forget you're wearing them. It made the farewells more bearable, as I just told myself and anyone who'd listen that we'd be back again soon, but to finally leave is to step into a pair of cold, unworn, starched pants of our own design.

The mission this time was to ship our stuff from Maria's garage; to cut a long story short, it was accomplished with unnerving ease. We returned to the UK on Tuesday at almost the exact same time as my dad was allowed to go home (yay!), shipped the contents of the flat on the Wednesday, spent Thursday having medical checks and other wallet-slimming activities, we left the kids with Nik's mam & dad and spent a lovely, relaxed couple of nights in a nice sea-front hotel (Anne's treat, a real godsend..) and even found time today to get Nik a new passport. It's finally all organised, just the journey itself remains. Ok, we still need to sell the car (a very nice 8-year-old Megane Scenic Monaco 2.0 16v... anyone..?) and make a few things (a couple of phone calls, some sandwiches, the last of the goodbyes..) but for days we've been cases packed ready for the off, apart from a few pairs of shoes and the odd Disney-related pantomime outfit.

The truth is, we're both way more overwhelmed with the goodbyes than the packing and sorting. Logistics can be worked out beforehand and help drafted in easily enough, but you simply can't factor in the emotional energy you need to meet almost every one of your friends and family over the course a a few days, and bid them farewell. On the face of it, it's a great chance to catch up and we're so lucky to have had the time and opportunity to do it; really sad to have missed out a few buddies both here and in Spain, but really blown away by the realisation that so many people mean so much to us. Thanks, everyone, for all your support and love and encouragement; armed with that, we really are prepared for anything.

"We're not buying chutney..."

I suppose it must be about time to panic now. Everyone else is. We're just about to shoot off to Spain for a few days, then we're back for a few days, then we'll be on a few planes for a few days and then we'll be in New Zealand. On paper, we're ready, which is to say everything's booked, we have (or can be fairly confident of soon having) all the certificates, med checks, shipping, insurance, flight, immigration, hotel and hire car documentation in order. Writing this instead of doing something more constructive is typical of me in these circumstances, ie in times of high stress, I invariably find something utterly frivolous to do. I've been pointlessly surfing things to do on a stopover in Los Angeles, for example (even though we're going via Singapore) seeing as the area's been in the news so much. An opportune time to visit, I'd say, spend some pocket money, maybe buy a couple of investment banks ;)

Mostly though, I've found it expedient to swot up on stuff worth checking out in NZ. A number of other visitors there seem to use the same stress-aversion technique I do, either that or they're incurable nerds. It's a very outdoorsy place and there's plenty of sport goes on beyond the obvious rugby-and-cricket. This is after all the home of falling off bridges for fun, having the world's first permanent bungee jumping site, and continues to innovate in the more bizarre thrill-seeking sports, including ball games. Cycling is very popular and seemingly infected with the "extreme sport" ethos; where I'd maybe have expected to see a decent turnout for a nice organised ride round a lake, they have 5,000 riders registered for a 160km mountainous course, with some of them putting their names down for the four-lap 640km "maxi-enduro"... there'll probably be someone doing it in a large inflatable ball, just to go one better.

Otherwise, the drawbacks are still sinking in. I mentioned the Ikea thing a few posts ago, and it seems we may have to re-think our TV strategy as well as home decor choices, as it turns out the BBC iPlayer feeds aren't (legally) available there. Nor are NZ offerings likely to provide much incentive to buy a TV, having as it does the worst TV programmes ever. Oz TV wasn't that much better when we were there, although ABC1's Gruen Transfer show recently came up with some pretty interesting ideas for alternative forms of entertainment for both countries. The spot was based on the news that NZ basically has no fully-funtional armed forces. I'm not sure if that's good news or bad, frankly. It should probably be filed under "drawbacks: inconsequential".

Of course we're almost deliriously excited about living there & Nik in particular is prone to sudden explosive bouts of uncontrollable frenzy at the thought. But we're already missing some things, mostly food-related, due to the double whammy of running down the pantry and the absolute ban on bringing food through NZ customs. They have highly-trained dogs at the airport, sniffing out not drugs or guns, but ham sandwiches. There's no shortage of poorly-trained dogs that could do the same job, but you have to admire their zeal. We certainly won't be risking it, even though the temptation to bring a year's supply of chorizo picante over from Spain is nigh-on overwhelming. There is hope for all things South East Asian of course and I don't mind leaving behind all my spices and stuff, but it really is almost impossible to force down a ploughman's without some Branston or something to help it on its way. Low-turnover condiments that won't get used up have been stricken from the shopping list until we get there. On the bright side, chutney looks big in NZ, so there's that at least to look forward to, and there's bound to be something resembling a cheese and pickle sarnie at the airport to ease the craving.

Right, I really must get on with the panicking... er, packing... next blog from Spain!

A blessing

As mentioned last post, my dad's not been at all well recently. He fell victim to an extremely nasty NHS superbug which no-one seemed to have heard of until it finally hit the news last week.

Clostridium dificile (aka C.diff) has been approaching epidemic proportions here for some time, largely because it wasn't getting properly reported or even diagnosed. The recorded survival rate among people Sid's age is frighteningly low, mostly as a result of secondary and tertiary complications. In his case, it destroyed the wall of his bowel; the resulting peritonitis caused respiratory and renal failure, which was bad enough, but it also meant 90% of his large intestine had to be removed. Colectomy is a seriously risky procedure but, like the C.diff, thanks to timely intervention and an amazing resilience he's shown in the past, he's survived it.

He spent five days out cold in the Critical Care Unit and took a further week to re-orient himself and recover to the point of being able to communicate normally, and although he's still too weak to stand on his own two feet he's just about able to feed himself and slowly understand what's happened to him. This week, as the tubes and drips have been gradually withdrawn, he's started to show definite progress. A major turning point was Wednesday's request for a sausage... a sure sign the old Sid is re-emerging at last :)

It's hard to believe this all started with a completely unrelated bladder complaint, which now seems utterly trivial in comparison, just over six weeks ago. That was yet another complication of an earlier surgery, the whole saga going back to his cancer treatment of several years ago. Just before the C.diff took him off the radar he told me some stuff about all this trauma which has changed my perception of medical intervention for ever. I'm still digesting it, maybe I'll write it down one day but I'm already way too far down the page today to start elaborating it now. Suffice to say, life's too short.

Sometimes things coincide in a very pertinent way, and it was during the darkest hours of this whole nightmare that our inchoate relocation efforts (finding shippers and insurers and airlines and accommodation and god knows what else) all started to deliver results. One after the other, things have just fallen into place with barely any effort at all. We're now all booked up onto a flight to Singapore on the 30th – just over 3 weeks time –arriving in Auckland around midnight on the 2nd October. We have a trip to Barcelona organised in the meantime, the shipping company have been very reassuring, we have a lovely place to stay when we get to NZ, it's all, suddenly, sorted.

A few weeks ago, Dad got to his feet as I made to leave the cubicle, grabbed my arm and said, "for god's sake, don't let all this crap get in the way". At the time, I didn't know what to say. As I traversed the warren of corridors back to the car park, I started to realise how lucky we were to be here for all this crap; we could so easily have still been stuck in Spain. I'm just thankful we were around for him and me Mam, who has been amazingly strong through even the most desperate times. We're not out of the woods yet and life is clearly going to be a bit of a struggle for a while after he gets home, but it's important that life goes on with the same determination as before, for everyone concerned. The resilience I've seen this last few weeks will always be an inspiration.

Get well soon, mate.

Poohsticks

That formal job offer was the one thing standing in the way of actually getting started on the NZ part of the adventure, and a couple of weeks ago I actually received one. I start work in Mayfield Primary School, East Tamaki, on 13th October – hurrah! That's not far away when you think about it... especially in the light of what we've done in terms of actual things...

Right then. Things we have done:

• Submitted application for NZQA assessment of my qualifications and Teacher Registration
• Submitted an Expression Of Interest (EOI) for the purpose of applying for a permanent residence visa
• Almost contracted a removal firm for bringing our stuff over from Spain and uniting it with our stuff here to all go together to NZ

Things we haven't done:

• Booked flights
• Actually contracted a removal firm for bringing our stuff over from Spain and uniting it with our stuff here to all go together to NZ
• Booked flights to go to Spain to oversee removal of stuff from Spain and see everyone
• Anything else

er.... for so long we've been itching to get going with the process and now that we can, the inactivity is quite frightening really. I have found out some about the class I will be teaching (y4/5, 23 mixed Maori and Pacific Islands kids, can't wait really) and keep talking to the kids, (well, Elly) about what will happen. I'm sure she thinks we're going to get off the plane and fall into a ready made home complete with hamsters, guinea pigs, cats, dogs, goats, chooks and a vegetable patch! I'm trying to let her down gently :-)

The main reason we haven't done much about the fact that we are leaving the country in 5/6 weeks is that Mik's dad, Sid has been very ill in hospital and we are all quite worried about him. Anne, Mik's mum is incredible, I admire her strength; in the light of what he has been through over these past few weeks, our plans seem rather less urgent than they did. We're kind of organised, I keep thinking we ought to be doing something but can think of nothing immediate that needs to be done; I guess I need the pressure of dates and deadlines to get motivated!

Also, we are in full swing of the summer holidays and we're mostly having a wonderful time, despite the weather! The end of July was lovely, nice and sunny, nice bit fluffy cloud to entertain the eye and warm. Let me tell you, it didn't last and it's been a very wet August. Why am I surprised? Shame it didn't last, it really was nice to plan and have a picnic/bbq/trip to the park etc. I'm beginning to run out of wet weather activities!! Fortunately, Oscar is falling in love with his train set and Elly is right into The Wizard of Oz, and the library and the Baltic are free and the swimming baths are sick of the sight of us! It's not being the drag I thought it would be which is lovely. The flat is only now starting to feel claustrophobic and a bit too cosy - we can all hear every word spoken and are feeling a bit squashed. We had a really nice few days away in Surrey at my aunt and uncle's house, Mum came down on the train with Benji and the weather was good! We went to a farm and up a hill, to the park and to see my cousin's new house. It was great to see them all and we had a really good time.

Elly goes back to school on 4th September, and even though it's only for a few weeks and includes a wee trip to Spain she will go back, I think it's important to keep some continuity in her life, if only until we turn her world upside down, but she is also craving kiddie company. She and Oscar are beginning to play together properly in bits and it's dead lovely to watch. My dream has us living in a house with a garden and some kids nearby for E&O to play with. Not much to ask?! As we hurtle almost motionless towards September, the best we can do is go with the flow.

Up in the air and all at sea; it's (almost) decision time

Poor old blog, all neglected cos of those durned kids... not true, actually: they're full on of course but the real spare-time sponge is this NZ thing: the trivial formalities of finding work, applying for visas, sussing out flights, negotiating shipping rates and looking for somewhere to live. In that order. Kind of transcending this list is the vexing question of what things to buy before we go vs how much we want to pay to ship it over there. Basically, there's no Ikea in NZ. No really, I'm not kidding, apparently they've been banned for fear of them becoming too popular. Although there are conflicting rumours that they may have acquired a site somewhere near Auckland, we're not prepared to leave a house full of cheap plastic novelties and matchstick furniture to chance.

Then there's the flight thing. Price aside, it should be a simple case of choosing your stop-over destination, right? Wrong. If you Go West with Air New Zealand, they allow you a staggering 46kg per person baggage allowance, making it a no-brainer for us clutter-magnet migrants. Except your stop over is in the United States of Antipathy, who are so close to disappearing up their own collective arses it's possibly the scariest place in the world to be right now. We've heard some real horror stories about US immigration, including the right of customs officials to confiscate your laptop/iPod/cellphone without warning or pretext. Sod that, then, we'll go east and travel light. Ha. If we max out hand luggage and hold allowance we can still take around 140 kilos. That's almost an entire Ikea trip :) It's a shame, I was looking forward to visiting San Francisco for some pioneering-spirit inspiration, but if it means a compulsory visit to the bottom inspectors they can stick it.

Shipping's another thing that could be a nightmare if we don't work it right. One plan would be to move all our stuff from here back to Spain, reunite it with all the other stuff in Maria's garage and ship everything, ourselves included, from there (we go on the plane, of course, not in the container...) (leastways, that's the plan...) – if not, we have to ship from here as well, which we could do by combining our stuff with Anne's, except she probably won't be out until next year and all our UK stuff constitutes our "everyday" chattels we really can't do without for that long. More than 4 weeks without me big wok and I start to go a bit funny. The long shot is to go with the nice firm who shipped our stuff here from Spain, who are mad keen to quote us for shipping everything else in Spain out here first before dispatching the whole lot to Kiwiland. They're more nuts than we are.

We've only seen the tip of the iceberg as far as finding a place to rent is concerned. It's not too expensive and there's plenty to see online, but no way do we want to pick something before we get there and see it in person. Methinks the trailerpark beckons! A bit of camping could be fun and make up for the cancelled summer trip round Europe; it's just a pity we probably won't be able to move early enough to ride the school holidays out & straight into the wild blue yonder. Even though it sometimes feels like we need months to prepare everything, we would go tomorrow if we could. The fact that we don't have a formal job offer yet is neither here nor there...