Act 1 | Leaving Dunedin (New Zealand)

After almost nine years of faithfully flatting in same apartment – home to so many good memories - you can totally forget that you don’t actually own the place. So it came as a bit of a shock when my landlady asked me to move out a couple of months before I was due to leave the country. (I have had nine official flatmates (one-per-year, which has caused me to pause and wonder, ‘does the other bedroom stink or is it me?’) and a whole host of unofficial flatties (some of whom probably still have keys to the flat which are now no more useful than momentos to remember me by.)

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I am deeply grateful to the two households that provided me with lodgings and laughter, after I had been dumped by my landlord and before it was time to fly away.

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Some of my quicker friends left the city before I did, meaning that I was obliged attend their farewell gathering while they tactfully avoided (all of) mine.

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I think I had some form of farewell gathering – be it lunch with a friend, a meal with a family (that I had invited myself to), eating out with colleagues, a tramping expedition, a formal farewell presentation, or drinks with the team – on every day of the last four weeks I spent in NZ.

The farewell marathon climaxed on the night before my departure with a 'last hurrah’ that (somewhat predictably) finished with a meal at my most favoured Dunedin eating establishment, The Khmer Friendly Noodle House, alongside the few friends who still had the strength for one last goodbye.

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Of course I am concerned with how flying all the way around the world is going to affect my eco-status, especially among my eco-friends (you know who you are - and aren’t!). So I was much relieved to accidently discover a new way of flying green, which I will gladly share with you now: Simply pack your favourite mug in your hand luggage and ask if you can use it in place of a disposable cup (and you get more coffee)!

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I am hoping to meet some new & really interesting people while travelling this year, so you can imagine my disappointment when the very first travelling companion I gained (while queuing for the flight from Auckland that would end my status as a resident of NZ) was Jim Duthie (the unintelligent looking one in the photo below) – my long time partner in prayer and co-founder of ‘cigars-for-Jesus’ (aka ‘Christians-on-fire’) – who just happened to also be transiting through Auckland to Paradise (aka ‘Australia’) on that particular morning.

It was a case of perfect unplanned (well, not planned by us anyway) timing. Not only did he buy me my last Old Dark beer (at airport prices!) - He kissed me .!.!. (I'm sure if you were to ask him about it he’d either deny it outright, claim it was the ‘holy kiss of greeting’ (delivered as I joined the queue at the boarding gate to depart the country?), or say it was on behalf of his wife (who is happily married with three kids and who wasn’t even there at the time!); In any case, I left New Zealand with a kiss from a friend.)

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I shed no tears on my way out of NZ, which surprised me a little, I think it was because my time in Dunedin really seemed to be complete, and making this journey at this time seems highly appropriate (not to mention exciting). Therefore doing Dunedin things for the last time felt quite natural (after all, if you’re ever going to do something completely different from the norm there is going to have to be a last run through the status quo).

(And I only saw one other person begin to cry as I said my many goodbyes.)

I left well.