Saturday, December 13, 2003

Arriving in Rotorua

This all makes sense when I see my gate.  Once I hand off my boarding card, I enter this covered walkway which is outside on the tarmac.  I pass signs that say things like, "Gate 42" and point toward a little gate in the fence around the walkway.  Beyond which is a small plane all ready to go.

There's a guy in a pilot's uniform walking a ways ahead of me.  He turns off at my gate and walks up the stairs into a little 19-seater.  There's a sign at the gate that says "Passengers not permitted past this point without a representative of the airline," so I just stand there like a good little girl.  A minute or two later, I see this arm waving out the door of the plane and waving me over.  Pilot welcomes me on the plane, and I fly to Rotorua on one of them planes where everyone has a window seat.

I'd asked my hotel how to best get there from the airport.  They'd said to take a shuttle.  I had ANOTHER tight connection here -- My flight arrived at 5:55, and I was supposed to be picked up for a Maori dinner between 6:30 and 6:45, so I needed to book.  I had wondered if I'd catch a shuttle.  I shouldn't have worried.  The Rotorua airport is not a big place.  "Baggage Claim" is this corner in front of the airport, where a guy drives up trailing a rack with all your bags on it, and everyone just grabs their own.  A Supershuttle guy is waiting nearby, waiting for everyone from the flight to get their bags and find transport.  I hit the hotel at 6:20 and check my bags -- figuring I could check in after the Maori dinner.

I wait for the bus.  And wait and wait.  Seems there was a HUGE tour group going from my hotel, and the Maori place had told THEM 7:00, without ever telling me of the change in pickup times.  So I'd rushed that bit for nothing.  No problem.  Better that than the other way.

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