A lot of crabs about here, need be careful.

We begin our current blog before the last one. That was a placeholder at the airport as we awaited being called to board. Rewind 12 hours. We arose and it was absolutely lashing. Our flight was at 7.50pm. This was going to be a test. I will now invent a word À la James Joyce. Testenge. A test and a challenge. How to pass time without getting soaked and meeting the inevitable renal requirements that come with coffee, coke and a carefree attitude to fluid intake. A relaxed preparation and packing took us up to 10 am. Depositing our cases - this sounds familiar and girding our matching Rab raincoats we set our faces to making our way Queen Street to Commercial Way where we knew there would be toilets. Like the rain in the gutter, this is the way of the stream. And we found the way. A slow dander and gentle reflection on where we had been before, when it looked nicer in the sun we ended up in the swankiest collection of shops I and Mrs Verno has ever seen. Mrs Verno has been a frequent visitor to Dublin and its high brow retailers. This trumped that, if we can use that word without fear of retribution.

Avocado was taken on a tour of Auckland by way of a farewell. Buried now in Albert Park near Lorne Street, Auckland we can only look forward to some wondrously pendulous growths in a few years time.

Emotional goodbyes aside, it was time for Mrs Verno and I to bid our separate ways. It was inevitable and beyond any reconciliation or compromise. Few would be surprised but most astonished that it actually came to this three weeks in and literally halfway around the world. To be fair the offer was made and to be fair the offer was rejected. It was settled we would go our separate ways. As I led Mrs Verno to the point of our dissociation the heavens screamed their objection to this state of affairs with a renewed deluge but the die was cast. My final words to Mrs Verno were “Right then, turn right and the hotel is straight ahead.” Without ne’er a glance back she was off. And I was trotting to experience the All Blacks Experience. And what a blast it was. Excellent, well narrated and emotional. Standing toe to toe with the All Blacks as they performed their Haka was visceral in its effect on the senses and heart. I was also the only Ireland supporter on the tour. Made me feel even more proud.

Mrs Verno and I reunited at the hotel and bided our time until it was time to head for the airport bus.. In case you had forgotten I consider it a matter of principle to deprive all Auckland taxi drivers - robbing feckers - of an income by using alternative means of transportation. A 15 minute tramp through the rain to Sky City for a 4pm bus was on the face of it a dawdle. However, the hero that I am, I insisted, despite Mrs Verno objecting, pushing our luggage the Whole way, and a hilly whole way it is. And despite the rain it was not cold so I was a sweaty boy when we arrived. We reached the bus stop at 3.20pm - I am good, it mist be admitted, and I decided to chance our arms on getting the earlier bus. Well, the driver was a veritable force of nature.. As we arrived she was guldering to the assembled innocents, ”This side for domestic, that side for international.” The assembled group of multinationals obeyed without question. It was at this point I grabbed her shoulder and asked if we could board now even though we were booked for 4pm. Like Crocodile Dundee she looked to the sky, then glanced around and said that should okay. Then appeared to have a slight doubt. But shook it off. I chucked our luggage into the right side of the hold. Ushered an uncertain Mrs Verno past our benevolent driver and we were in. Our demonstrative driver then made our day with a a very funny performance to communicate the order of stops went we reached the airport. With mime and child English she conveyed the difference between “domestic” and “International”. Fly away being the key phrase with accompanying way arms. Everyone got it. And she did it with such humour and desire that everyone understood. You had to be there but it will be an enduring memory.

We arrived at the airport And had to head to the check-in desks. You had to prove you had an exit strategy for the U.S. In order to enter so we had to show a screen hot of all our future flights. I know. Miserable us. And we were through the departure area. Gate 6. And happened to be sitting beside two older ladies who were clearly struggling with the challenge of boarding a plane while in the throes of crack cocaine addiction. These two were all over the feckin’ place. Getting replacement boarding passes and then showing the lost ones to staff. Then unwrapping a two foot round canvas image of god knows what and then replacing the bubble wrap exactly as it was before. These tow were wired. Everyone was hoping they would not be sitting beside them on the plane. Which was increasingly likely as most people on this 12 hour flight had opted for business, premium, economy premium or non-scum class. This left about 10 rows for cracks heads anonymous and Mrs Verno and I. Fortunately we were left with Jack and Rose in steerage and peace and quiet for 12 hours.

We duly arrived in San Francisco and passed through immigration remarkably quickly. We used the Mobile Passport Control App and this worked a treat. I did detective one glance at the dodgy stamp on Mrs Verno’s passport from New Zealand and was ready to come up with all manner of excuses but we were good. To a taxi and fuck me what a taxi. All legit. Bedecked in the livery of yellow that one expects. I was immediately admonished for opening the boot. Mrs Verno had to move a number of bricks to get into her seat and it was clear that even if the gentleman did not live in the cab he at least had every major meal in it. He was a lovely fellow and deposited us in a timely manner and there we were at Fisherman’s Wharf . Very, very tired and discombobulated by the international date line but here nonetheless. We were now aligned with the Vancouver Verno’s. Everything was now aligned.

Mrs Verno and I had a power nap. This was the most powerful nap you have ever experienced but it set us up for. Dander around Pier 39. Absolutely brilliant craic. Bloody freezing though. The seal lions were the stars. Captivating just watching them and these buggers just entertained. We had to retreat back to the room to re-equip clothing wise. Layers were added and off we went to Boudin Bakery for food. Lovely. And a view over the Bay. A great spot. Mrs Verno sampled a cocktail and then off we were back to the hotel. We have an Alcatraz trip at 10am will have lots more pictures for you. For now, we have arrived and tired as we are having a ball.

The room we are in is grand. We are washing my undies in the sink again. Poor sink. They are currently draped provocatively over a floor mounted air con unit that looks fit for a cruise ship. Enormous. Hopefully dry boxers will be in copious supply before our next flight. It is worth noting that this is our last hotel before we benefit from the copious hospitality of the Vancouver Verno’s. Things will only get better .