Chris Skudder - New Zealand House Swap page 3 of 6
Auckland Airport was far less welcoming. A late night arrival coincided with some very expensive groceries. I know the price of food has soared but two one hundred dollar apples really took the biscuit. They’d been left in hand luggage inadvertently and jumped on by customs officials; you could have smiled as sweetly as Little Red Riding Hood but it would have made no difference - bringing fruit into New Zealand is a major no-no. Fined two hundred dollars and no arguments. Ouch! So much for a money saving home exchange adventure!
Internet correspondence meant we already felt we knew our hosts fairly well (you can usually tell from initial contacts whether it feels right) and as this was not a simultaneous exchange they were there to greet us before moving off to their second homes.
‘You know how to handle a fast boat?’enquired Geoff as he handed over the keys to his wooden ’bach’ on the shores of Lake Rotoiti, just up the road from thermal wonderland Rotorua. ‘Err….yes’ came the tentative reply amid visions of yours truly carving head-on into the jetty at the bottom of the garden. No, I knew I’d be ultra careful when entrusted with someone else’s expensive toy but I’d reckoned without a stupid sucker punch that almost landed me in big trouble. Encouraged by ten year-old Genevieve landing a tasty two-pounder while trolling off the boat the day before in the trout filled waters, I’d gone out fishing late in the day alone. By dusk I was heading back to shore, engine at full throttle, when ‘Phut!….’ the engine cuts out.
The Breakdown Boat
No panic, I thought, it’s run out of gas, and ’phew!’ I’d brought along a spare tank. So I calmly fill her up, turn the key, and…..nothing. Eh? Panic rises. Try again, and again, and again, ‘Effing START!!’.Still nothing….It’s getting dark, it’s silent and while I float helplessly around all I can picture is Geoff’s trusting face and visions of me sinking his pride and joy. Sh**. Where was Chay Blyth when you need him?
Luckily I’d brought my mobile with me and by the time I’d started flashing SOS signals across the lake to anyone who might see them with the torch I’d remembered to bring from the house, my wife had already sent out the distress call to Geoff back In Auckland. He’s let us use his lovely home and boat and here was some clown royally cocking up the exchange. Great. But all was not lost. My pathetic torch flashing had worked! Out of the gloom came a Chay Blyth-a-like peering over the bow of his sailing boat with a reassuring ,’Need a tow?’
Relief came rushing over me, followed quickly by arch embarrassment as I turned the boat key to explain my predicament and it roared into action first time! What a fool! Still, better that than spending a cold night on the lake.
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