Day 8:

Just to be open and vulnerable I cannot believe how difficult I have found travel days and flying on this trip. I used to be a good flyer and I’ve only really had one bad experience on a plane but my god on this trip it has been terrible. I already started day 8 on the back foot. I had a 4:30 am wake up to catch a 6:30 am flight. The weather was not playing along either, it was 2 degrees, windy and rainy, thanks for the sign off Tasmania. All the rushing was pointless anyway as my flight to Melbourne was delayed due to some mechanical fault in the plane. Usually that would be fine by me but it cut my stopover from an already short 90 minutes to a frantic 30 minute gap to get through immigration and get to my gate.

The Launceston to Melbourne flight was mostly fine, how bad can an hour be? The stress levels were high thinking about missing my flight, heightened by the fact we were parked on the runway an extra 15 minutes waiting for a gate to open. I got off the plane and sped through to the international terminal. Immigration was so much easier than I thought, a simple scan of my passport and I was through to my gate. No questions or talking to any officers. White privilege in effect I suppose. I got to my gate 5 minutes after the stated boarding time, but again all the stress and rushing was pointless as my flight was again delayed, this time by a full 90 minutes.

From here I can’t really tell you much of what happened as I can’t I really remember. Just a blur. It’s difficult to explain the feeling I get. It’s not a fear. I have no stress about the plane crashing, or even discomfort, I don’t mind being squished in a seat for 3 hours. It’s not really logical, if it was it would be easy to get over. It’s just a blind panic. It must subconsciously be caused by something that gets activated by the mechanism of travelling. It feels primal, like my body is afraid I’m being hunted by something unseen. My senses become really heightened. I can smell better, I hear every rumble of the engine and creak from the chairs around me. My eyes become really glazed over and I can’t focus them. Whatever it is that runs the autopilot of your body seems to turn off and all of a sudden it’s just me in control of every breath and every blink. And my mind just goes blank. I can sometimes get thoughts to jump up through the noise but mostly I’m consigned to sit there like a panic zombie. The worst part is I get this weird feeling like I’m gonna choke every time I swallow so it feels like I’m in a dentist chair trying to go as long as possible in between swallows. All of this is happening but I don’t really feel any of it individually, it’s like sound waves combining it all just comes as a general feeling. So I do the only thing I can, I just sit there for 3 hours and let it happen. There are a lot worse things in the world but geez it’s a long three hours.

I’m not really sure how I got through baggage claim, bio security and customs. After I have a panic attack type situation I’m always out of it for the next day or 2. Like my brain overheats so I need to return to base programming for a while to reset. I do know I paid $120 nzd for a corporate taxi to get from the airport to the Airbnb, must have been one nice car.

Another big weakness I’ve exposed this trip is my Airbnb picking ability. I swear the photos of this place looked amazing. What I get instead is a dingy, yellow light stained lobby up to a small self contained apartment. The carpet in the hallway before my room is filthy and stained with god knows what. I have a high bar for dirty and even I would pull out the Dyson on this occasion, maybe even chuck down some no vac. The room itself is about 3 steps wide with a beautiful view of some dumpsters and an unfortunate homeless encampment. I have a balcony at least. After a day of travel I’m straight to bed. I brush my teeth, go out to the balcony and taunt the people below about how comfy and warm my bed is, then roll over and fight my spinning mind and a couple of little demons before fading off to sleep.

Day 9:

The one advantage of being a full time space cadet is you learn how your mind and body works and ways to overcome it. I wake up groggy and scared. If I could click my heels three times and be home right now I would take that option with no hesitation. But I know from past experience if I don’t get up in the next 10 minutes I’m doomed to rot in my bed all day. So I force myself up, cold shower and out the door before I can be tempted.

First coffee in Auckland is a great one. I try the first coffee shop I see and it smashed it out of the park so that’s a good sign. I walk 3 blocks through the early morning commuters out to the Viaduct Harbour. It is very nice and looks out towards the parts of Auckland, which is a huge city in terms of area, that are reachable by ferry. I sit down and enjoy my coffee. As I look out of the water I see blurs and flashes of people zooming by in big groups, all of them stopping at the end of the harbour taking big laboured breaths. Confused me at first but after a little bit of googling I can see the Auckland marathon is on this Sunday. A lot of the runners must be micro influencers as they line up to take photos or short vlog videos on their phone. It does a good job of making the city come to life. As I walk towards Victoria park I see more and more runners speeding by.

One of the things I always forget about bigger cities is how dirty they are. Even Auckland isn’t immune. I think if you live there you just become accustomed to dirt and grit being everywhere around you. Rubbish in the street, cafe tables are stained, any carpet I’ve seen so far is always stained. I think over the week I’m here I will become accustomed as well.

As I continue to explore the city I come across the Auckland gallery, as luck would have it they have a big travelling showcase of Pablo Picasso - presented by Paul Smith. Interested I pay the $40 (crazy price) to go and see some world class art for the first time in my life. The presented by Paul Smith is an important caveat and something that almost ruins the experience. The exhibit is showcased and posed in what I thought was a pretty ineffective way. Maybe I’m just a philistine. The first exhibit is a piece called the bulls head by Picasso. It is a pair of bike handlebars and a bike seat repurposed to look like a bulls head. I don’t understand it very well but it’s nice enough. On the opposite wall is Paul Smiths take on this work. It is just a wall of modern bike handlebars and bike seats, about 30 of them stapled up on the wall. Except, one of the seats is a rainbow. Wow. Art. The exhibit is laid out in chronological order of Picasso’s  life, with little placards at each work giving an explanation and Paul Smiths professional art take. It feels a trivial way to experience art. The tralfamadorians have already been brought up and again I tend to agree with them. Viewing art in the context of linear time and inferring linear progression feels like an overly simplified and commercial way to approach it. Each room is painted or adorned by Paul Smith in a ‘special way’. For Picassos blue era the whole room is painted, you guessed it blue. The plaques and explanations on the wall reek of artists pulling themselves off. After the first two rooms I decided to ignore them and just view, enjoy and make my own decisions about the art. I would much prefer an exhibit celebrating someone who is dead and therefore can’t consent to the context of their art, to just be on plain walls in a less staged manner.

Two pieces from this exhibit really stood out to me. I don’t know the names as I didn’t read the placards. The first was in the blue room. It was a pretty standard portrait of a man leaning forward with his arms folded and a far away almost vacant look in his eyes. Being up close and being able to see the individual brushstrokes of such an iconic artist is a really cool experience. Seeing how precise it is and how the colours are blended at a micro level increases the immersion. This painting drew my attention because it just seemed so modern. The face the man in the photo makes and the clothes he’s wearing, you could find 10 people in Auckland today who look identical. The second piece (or pieces) that really stood out were Picasso’s sketches. It’s amazing how minimal he was able to be while still get across complex ideas and moments. A series of sketches that show a bullfighting match are incredible. Tiny dots somehow become a whole cheering crowd. A flourish here and a touch there become a man and a bull. So much movement is captured as well, it really was a treat to see. From these sketches you can see how Picasso got to his cubism phase, playing with shape and form. How much you can lose while still retaining something that is instantly recognisable.

The more abstract of Picasso’s work was less interesting to me but still well worth seeing. His stripe paintings, which Paul Smith geniously put in a room covered in, you guessed it, stripes. The colours are what I got out of the more abstract paintings. They really do pop off the canvas. I can see how Picasso got bored enough with standard art that he felt the need to be so innovative. Like a great chef who finds a way to make snails or beef tongue taste delicious even if they could just cook wagyu every time. I think people see Picasso and see a troubled man through art but I think I see a bored one. I think the simple things in life still bring me enough joy I don’t need to go searching for anything but maybe as I age I will appreciate different aspects.

After my soiree into the sophisticated art world I return back to my dingy apartment for a quick nap before going to a real treat to finish the night. I go to see The Odyssey in IMAX. First time in an IMAX theatre and it did not disappoint. The screen is so much bigger than you think it will be, at least 3 times as high as readings screens. The sound was amazing, absolutely deafening and overpowering but still amazing. Something I’ve always wanted to do, I’m really glad I was able to go especially for such a great movie. Don’t judge me to hard but I did stop and get Maccas for dinner. I was tired and wanted to get straight to bed. I can report the maccas is the exact same, no difference.