3: Hairy Flights, Highlanders and Hens

Day 3: Waking up slightly worse for wears but very thankful I had managed to (or one of fabulous friends had more likely) put washing on previous night.

We all had to be at the airport within about an hour of each other so off we set, to have breakfast and consume much needed hangover coffee.

Sister and I were flying JETSTAR which always worries me a bit. Scared I’ll arrive 12 seconds after the bag drop off time has ended and they wont let me on, or I’ll be 3 grams over the limit or something. I read horror stories I do. Families going to attend funerals or the death-bed of loved ones and getting turned away because they were 7 minutes late past the check in time. Not to mention the same flight we got on in 2012 and just about all bloody crashed and died on.

Anyhoo, think positively.

Said good-bye to fabulous friends and got on flight with sister. Actually was pretty good flight, bar the last ten minutes, and I’m beginning to think that flying into Queenstown is just a turbulent kind of affair, every time. Still has me gripping the armrest with a fake I’m fine smile plastered to my face though. Hate that shit.

After landing we had a couple of hours to pick up the rent a car, have lunch, and try and cross a few more omiyage off my list, before picking up other sister and brother and heading to apartment for wine, hair straightening, and there serious preparations for evenings hen’s night.

There had been a bit of back and forth with the rent a car with sister originally renting cheapest thing she could find with trunk room for single pair of runners and four bottles of wine or similar. Definitely wasn’t going to fit all our shit in it, especially after other sister decided to buy boxes of wine glasses and pairs of boots.

Actually take that back. The cheapest piece of shit we’ve ever hired was when we all gathered down South for mum’s last visit in 2010 was that? Hired the ‘Homey’ van that three of us siblings and our families squashed in. Was the hoariest piece of shit ever and only reason had to park in disabled park on occasion was due to fact pushing the thing that bit extra to a normal park was just too strenuous. Hey, but it was an adventure.

Anyhoo, this time we decided for a bit more style. Highlander was perfect. Of course after we picked up other sister and brother I was relegated to the back seat for the rest of the trip.

Hen’s night preparations were fun. My oldest sister doesn’t travel anywhere without an entire hair dresser worth of shite and product, so I sat sipping bubbles while she straightened. Having a natural afro mop, that used to be pretty curls pre children but turned into even finer pile of baldness post babies, I love having it perfectly straight. I am too retarded however to actually achieve said straight hair with own straighteners. It just requires too much coordination.

Hen’s night celebrations were well under way when we went up two flights to cousins apartment for cosmopolitans, toilet paper wedding dresses and silliness.

The bride to be was such a good sort about everything, completed all her tasks, got suitably pissed, and, from what I hear, feared a lot better than her husband-to-be – whose night apparently involved a leopard print tutu, shots, whips and a few welts on his ass.

Good times. At least he wasn’t stripped and tied up to a pole in the middle of town.

Day 4 – Difficult Wines and Semi Roughing it.

SDGH&QL