Hopefully, this year’s RTW will be a journey without trouble, illness or angst, because we have to remind ourselves occasionally that last year WAS our anus horribilis. But we have put it all behind us, save for reminders from the odd jabs of pain that still send me reaching for my walking-stick, and the top-up chemo that Peter had before we left, to keep him going for the four months we are going to be away from our home in Noosa. For we are determined that this year will be our anus mirabilis.
We really have pared down our luggage, secretly hoping for another good British summer like the one we had last time we were there. We have kept in touch with family and our dear grandsons via FaceTime, but it will be so wonderful to see how they’ve grown and developed. They’ve been told to watch out for the postcards that we’ll send en route, as before, and to get their world map out to track our course. We hope they are as excited as we are.
Tomorrow we take the short flight to Sydney to board our cruise ship, the Celebrity Solstice, that will take us eastward across the Pacific to Hawaii, via New Zealand and Tahiti. We need that space and time of relaxation so much. Once we leave our shores, we’ll clink glasses, kick back, do absolutely nothing for nineteen days, and sleep like tops…
I was emotional. Can’t think why – we were going on another adventure, the end result being to see our UK family and friends. Saying goodbye to the Australian little ones on FaceTime as they were enjoying a holiday by the beach in New South Wales, I felt almost as though I’d never see them again. Perhaps it was the ultimate stress of it all – after having to cancel our last planned trip because of ill health and immobility, we’d forgotten how much goes into planning a journey like the one we were about to embark upon, and last-minute snafus did nothing to help. But by that time, on paper, nearly every day of our four months away was filled in, with a blow-by-blow account of what where how and when. So, all we had to do now, in theory, was to follow the instructions, and relax.
Departing from our local airport should have been a doddle, but I still had doubts about how far I was able to walk unassisted and pre-ordered a wheelchair. It was falling apart, and our lovely friend who’d insisted on staying with us after driving us there, also insisted in pushing me in the wheelchair. Five difficult minutes later, wheels falling off and Velcro strap pulling threads in my nice new blouse, with Guy straining and struggling, I opted to get out and walk. But not before being delayed at scanning for what they saw on the X-ray as a pair of scissors! As I watched my carefully-packed cabin case being unceremoniously unpacked, the Eureka moment arrived triumphantly. Naughty girl – tiny scissors had been forgotten about in our med kit. No point explaining that we had intended to check our cabin bags through to Sydney but decided not to when they quoted an extra $40 per bag. Fascinating Aida’s song ‘Cheap Flights’ came to mind.
The booked wheelchair never materialised at Sydney airport, so I walked, and walked and walked. Good news arrived with our limo that swiftly whisked us away to Circular Quay to board our ship, the Celebrity Solstice, whose bow towered above the surrounding buildings and whose fifteenth deck was on a level with Sydney harbour bridge.
We’re now en route following the north-eastern coastline of New Zealand, until we sail into a very familiar bay – the Bay of Islands, and our first port of call, Russell, where we have a reception committee awaiting our arrival. Our oft-remembered friends from the happy times we spent at our beautiful holiday home there have organised a celebratory lunch at the only hotel in town – the Duke of Marlborough.
We can now see the Land of the Long White Cloud from our veranda – we just have to get round the notorious waters of Cape Reinga overnight first – the place of leaping, and where two oceans collide, and where Maori spirits begin their final journey. There, the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean in a spectacular swirl of dangerous currents. Hopefully, we’ll be asleep if the spirits become angry at our passing.
