Tomorrow morning I’m boarding a flight to Auckland. My bag is all but packed. I’ve had to send some of my layers home in a parcel and leave a few more behind. And although I’m not expecting high heat up in the Bay of Islands, it has to be warmer than it is here. This morning in Christchurch, we were greeted by driving, icy rain that has lasted all day. And as Mrs Choc says, it was NO degrees outside.
It seems a little odd to even be thinking about getting on an aeroplane. But things are chugging along pretty much as normal in New Zealand. And after my jaunt around the South Island, I’m keen to see what it’s like in the North Island. I’m also keen to get back under water. I’ve been in touch with a dive shop in a place called Tutukaka who dive out at sites around Poor Knights. Which Jacques Cousteau listed in his Top 10. The Poor Knights are volcanic islands and are both a nature reserve and a marine reserve. They’re also set to become a World Heritage Site. I’ve read that I can expect, ‘unique and incredibly varied plant, animal and fish life’. And, ‘spectacular drop offs, walls, caves, arches and tunnels’. I’m not sure about tunnels. That would be a first. But still, it’s what they call, bucket-list diving. The timing isn’t ideal as it is still the dead of winter even in the sub-tropics. I think a 7mm wetsuit is standard. But I’m very excited about it all the same.
My plan is to bump around the North Island for as long as it takes and for as long as I’m happy. And whilst I’m bumping, see if any doors open for international travel. I’m not very hopeful. In which case I’ll head homeward. But as I have two months left on my visa extension here, I won’t make any decisions either way for a little while longer. There are so many unanswered, and answerable, questions when it comes to what’s next. And I’m trying very hard to roll with that. Some days I have to try harder than others.
But right now, what comes next is saying goodbye to the Chocs. And it’s not going to be easy. Even though I do know it’s time. I’ve been in Christchurch for nearly 18 weeks. And it’s bonkers when I think about that amount of time and I wonder where it’s all gone. Those sunny autumn days of quince-scrumping and dancing around the kitchen and baking chocolate fudge cake, and the rest, seem like an age ago. But really, they have been the most generous of hosts. Each one of them. It’s been rare and so incredibly special. But I’m not going to be sad. I’m going imagine those teenage Choc children growing up over the next few years or so, and spreading their wings. And those wings bringing them to London to see me there. I can’t wait.
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