Those early days

Right, now that I have the initial introduction out of the way, let me tell you a little bit more about me and our situation.  I hope that you will email your story as well to Geckosnest@gmail.com as I would be keen to share others' experiences (and you can opt to use your own names or an alternative to protect your privacy).


So our story:


We made the big move in September 2004.  2 Years leading up to that I spent a lot of time doing research.  I had this thick lever arch file with all sorts of information including valuable contacts I made over time.  Some of those contacts were employment agents willing to provide some information on how to structure our CVs and how the job market would work and this was incredibly valuable.  Another contact was a gentleman by the name of John Pringle.  It was his goal to support people like us and in the end he offered to meet us at the airport and for us to stay with them for the first little bit.  Him and his wife were such lovely people and it quickly felt like they were family.  Unfortunately due to circumstances over time we lost contact, but that's life.


I have to be honest that I became rather paranoid about the crime-situation in South Africa and with a young baby daughter I struggled to cope each time her dad went out and this became the main reason for our decision to move.  But enough about that.


I briefly visited New Zealand on my own early in 2004 just to see what it looked like.  Our daughter was too young then and her dad was a contractor so no work = no pay for him.  So I went on my own for a week.


I somehow lined up an interview for an admin position and so coincided the visit with that interview.  A job I didn't get in the end as they would not have been able to offer the position to me anyway.  It would have been too hard for them to prove they could not find anybody else.  But nevertheless, it was a useful experience in the end. 


I remember arriving around 10pm at Auckland airport.  I had a list of directions to get to my hotel and made my way to the rental car company.  Sorted that out, got a map and armed with this map and my directions I confidently got into the car.  Of course (whilst I am able to drive a manual it had been a while as we had an automatic at home) and so naturally stalled a few times before I made my way into the big city of Auckland. 
To be honest, in hindsight, I should have just organised the airport bus because I quickly realised that trying to look around, read my directions, trying to read unfamiliar names and remembering to change gears became pretty challenging. 
I do remember how clean and well maintained everything looked.  I remember how little traffic there was that time of the night. I also remember that very quickly the names on the street signs did not match what were on my directions and because there were no signs saying "City Centre this way" I had no idea where I was and where I was heading to. 
So I stopped at a Shell Garage, got out, showed my map and said "I have no idea where I am, but I have to be here...".  I remember him giving me some directions and mentioning spaghetti junction and I was on my way. 
And I got to spaghetti junction.  No problem.  Before I knew it I came to a T-Junction and it was the street where I was meant to be to go to my hotel.  My hotel was in Hobson Street.  Trouble was Hobson Street was a one way and I had to go to number one.  So I figured if I turned right into the one way and then go around and come back up this road then I would be able to turn into Hobson and be by number one.  That was a great plan.  Except, before I knew it I was back on the motorway.  Heading to goodness knows where.  I made my way into some or the other residential area and of course being well on the way to midnight, there were no people around I could ask. And so I drove and drove.  Up this way and down that way.  Hmmm. 
Somehow, don't ask me how, I made it back into the city.  In Victoria Street.  And I was absolutely determined that no matter what I would not go back on the motorway.  I drove up one street and down another. 
And because I didn't know where I was I didn't know if I was going up in a road or down in a road.  Finally I decided to just stop and try and see a street name so that I could find it on the map.  And there right next to me was my hotel.  Oh the relief.  I had visions of having to sleep in my car somewhere on the streets. 
I checked in, asked them to park the car and paid for parking on my FNB credit card.  I had some cash but because I didn't know how much things would cost, I used my credit card for this.  I finally got to my room.  So relieved and so exhausted.  It was 2 hours since my arrival at the airport.  Something told me to look into my wallet.  And I thought I would have a heart attack.  My credit card was gone.  Don't know what possessed me, but I unpacked all my luggage, emptied my handbag, looked into my wallet again.  And then rang reception asking if left my card there.  "No" they said. 
And I had visions of them stealing my card and using it and what the hell do I do now in a strange country with no credit card and how do I stop my card? 
And as I sat there with my heart jumping in my throat I opened my wallet again and then noticed that a little piece of paper shifted up and covered my credit card.  Oh my goodness!


The next morning was my interview.  I woke up early as I had to go and find an internet café to print a copy of my CV.  Then I tried to find a place I could make copies of my CV and some key documents.  I ended up walking up and down Queen Street looking for a place and finally found Warehouse Stationery at the bottom end (or is that the top end? Not quite sure).  Because of the day before, I refused to get back into the rental car and so I arranged for a taxi to take me to Mt Wellington.  Can't remember how much that cost, but it must have been a lot.  Got there and they had forgotten about my interview.  So frustrating.  We rescheduled. 
Later that day I visited the zoo which was a lot of fun.


I remember the next day the jet lag kicked in big time.  I literally could not get myself out of bed and although I had my alarm set, all I could manage was to lift my arm and keep pressing the snooze button. 


I spent so much time just walking around the city.  I remember how clean things looked.  How safe I felt.  I remember how different some things looked and that the milk tasted different to what I was used to.  I remember finding it amusing that what we knew as a lunch bar chocolate in South Africa was known as a picnic chocolate bar.  And for the first time I saw a king size crunchie chocolate bar.


When it was time to head back after that week, I struggled to sleep.  I finally got up at 11pm, packed the last few things and decided I would check out at 1am.  If it took me 2 hours to get from the airport to the city, then I would leave 3 hours to get back just so I would not miss my flight.  So by 1am I checked out, got in the car armed with another set of directions and set off.  20 Minutes later I arrived at a nearly empty airport where I had to try and stay awake until my check in at 4am. Because of course every 20 meters (about) there was a sign to say "airport this way".  Good memories :-).  Now I would either book the airport bus or make sure I rent a GPS with the car :-).  So much simpler.


So back to the big move.  We had a big farewell function to say goodbye.  We had these two little miniature pinchers and thankfully friends asked to adopt them.  I could not put them through loads of tests and then quarantine.  They hardly coped if we went away for the weekend or the one or two times they had to stay at the vet.  In the end they were so happy and well settled.  On the day we were horribly over-packed and it cost an absolute fortune.  How we made the airport on time I don't know as that morning we were still running around like mad people clearing out last things from the house.  It was crazy.  Saying goodbye at the airport was one of the hardest things I ever did. 


We arrived around 10pm with a very wide-awake 14 month old, 6 suitcases, a pram, a camera bag, a car seat and my handbag.  We stayed with John and Bernie on the North Shore for the first week.  It was a bit cramped because it was the 3 of us and all our luggage in the one room.  But it was lovely to be with somebody who could guide us.  The jet lag was a nightmare and it took a good week or two for my daughter to get back into a proper routine.  The morning after we arrived Bernie took us to ASB and we opened up our bank account.  I could not believe how simple things were and how short the queues were.  And I have to say that because we had no clue what the value of the money really was in comparison to what things cost we overspent more than we wanted to.  If I could re-do things I would probably spend more time setting up a budget that I could tweak and stick to it.  Within a week we decided to get our own rental and found a periodic tenancy in a small little 2 bedroom townhouse in Milford, not far from where Bernie and John lived.  We had to stock up on furniture again as we sold everything ahead of time.  Initially we had a rental car until we were finally ready to buy our own - a Honda Jazz.  A black one that later on my daughter named Banana (why Banana? Because when bananas grow old, they go black you see...).  Discovering the beaches was another lovely surprise to have them so close and so empty in comparison to what we had in South Africa, that was lovely.  It was much colder than in South Africa though and in hindsight we should have stocked up on some winter woollies before coming as it takes longer to get warmer than in South Africa.  And it rained a lot.  But we got used to that.  It took hubby about 3 weeks to secure a job offer and we applied for our visas and not long after started working.  Little one was in daycare.  And then not too long after that we did our permanent residency.  We did use an agent at the time which for us was really useful and their service was really good.


And that in a nutshell is our story.  There are a lot more I can say but I will save that for other blog entries.  In the past 11 years we have been in rental homes in Auckland (Milford and Albany / Northcross) and in Wellington (Khandallah, Tawa, Aotea and on the Kapiti Coast) so I can share some insight into these places.  We also have experience of the daycare centres and schools that our daughters went to.  I will be back soon :-).


Now over to you - email me your story if you are here already and I will publish it here on this blog to share with others.  Remember every person's story is there own and we will respect that!