Ok now this is getting boring, so I'm not going to dwell on the matter, but only go so far as to say that I yet again have food poisoning. As this necessitates me generally lying around not doing much, I unfortunately haven't done anything particularly exciting since arriving in New Zealand. The situation also affords me a lot of time to sit around and think. Wouldn't it be good if the times when I did exciting and adventurous stuff were the times I had opportunity to reflect and write about my experiences, instead of time to reflect on lolling around on the sofa?

Anyway, so as the rest of my time in India was probably more exciting than what I've been doing here, I'll start there. Actually the last potentially exciting thing happened just as I was leaving for the airport. I was walking back to my hotel to get my bag when an Indian man started running down the street after me saying, "excuse me, madam, can I ask you a question?" If you have stopped to listen to a question a gentleman in India wants to ask you, you will know it is likely to be, "would you like to go somewhere in my taxi?" or "would you like to buy something from my shop?" or "would you like to go out with me?", so I understandably ignored him and picked up the pace. He chased me down the street and eventually said, "would you like to be an extra in a Bollywood film tomorrow?" I looked round at this point and realised he was a very presentable and clean young man, carrying a notebook and blackberry, so it was likely he was actually working on a film. "Oh, sorry, I'm leaving tonight", I said reluctantly. Damn! I would have loved to do that. It's quite common in Colaba for the film people to scout out random westerners to appear in the background of Bollywood films, just my luck I got asked on the way out!

Putting my film career on hold temporarily, I needed to get to the airport for my flight. I decided to shun the taxi and try the cheap option, which was a taxi to Churchgate station, a train to somewhere and then a rickshaw to the airport. I got the taxi and my ticket fine. A train ticket for a 45 minute journey costs 8 rupees in India, which is about 12p, can you believe that? Anyway, I wasn't quite sure where I was going, so dodging a bedraggled man hanging out of the train doors and vomiting on the floor, I asked the man stood next to him if this was the train to the airport. Everyone was so helpful, they told me where to get off, which way to go for a rickshaw, etc, and one man even helped me get a rickshaw (no-one wanted to go to the airport) and told me to make sure I paid no more than 30 rupees for it, information which came in useful when we arrived at the airport and the driver asked for 150! I think I picked up another admirer on the train as well but as I was on my way out of the country I decided it didn't matter too much, plus this one seemed quite sweet (no, don't worry, I'm not going to marry an Indian man). Incidentally, not only was I the only person with a big rucksack on the train, and the only westerner, I was also the only woman. The entire train was full of men. Although they do have women-only carriages, so maybe that's where the women were.

Anyway, so I made it to the airport fine, although the security guard outside almost didn't let me in because I was four hours early for my flight. I'd left myself time to get lost on the train system and anyhow, he didn't realise how much like paradise an airconditioned building with free Clarins samples was to me at that moment. Oh, and they tried to make me get an Australian visa (1000 rupees), and said I couldn't get on the plane without one, and kept asking why I hadn't arranged it beforehand. "But I'm British, I can go anywhere!" I wailed. Eventually they realised I didn't need one because I was going there in transit, which I did know at some point but had forgotten in between, only remembering enough to not bother with visas. I did have a bit of a facial, sprayed some expensive perfume, and I finally got my hands and feet clean. The novelty of airconditioning did wear off quite fast though, especially when I got on the plane, which was really cold. What is it with airconditioning, where people feel they need to turn it down so low you're freezing cold? What's wrong with just being comfortable? Maybe it's so you notice the airconditioning and are grateful for it, instead of just getting on with your life. I really hate it, especially if you're in a hot country, because you need to carry around jumpers and leggings just in case your bus or train has airconditioning, and if it doesn't you spend the whole time sweating. I just want to be a normal temperature!

Anyway (see, this is what happens when I have too much time to think, I ramble on about airconditioning), I think the only remotely interesting thing which happened on the trip was that I met two really cute Indian kids. The first one was in the waiting lounge (where I was sitting as far away from the airconditioning as I could manage), and was sitting next to me. I smiled and said, "namaste", and he started jabbering away in Hindi. I have no idea what he was saying, but it was really cute, and I just nodded and smiled, which he seemed quite happy with. I said "namaste" in the pauses. He was three. The second one was on the plane. I was watching Family Guy and thinking about trying to sleep, when this kid comes past, sees me watching a cartoon, and wants to know what it is. "Er, I'm not sure your parents would want you to watch it", I told her. She was only five but her English was really good. She came back five minutes later and said, "my mummy's sleeping, can I watch with you?" Of course I couldn't say no to that, so she climbed on my knee, and I hastily switched off Family Guy and turned to the kids' channels. She wanted to watch Hi-5, which seemed to be lots of pretty blonde girls wearing ridiculous outfits jumping around and singing, with clips of kids making cool stuff in-between the singing. As a kid I would have loved this I'm sure; as an adult I was very glad there was only one set of headphones. When I took her back to find her mum at around 1am (much to her protestation), and her mum seemed to be sick because she had an oxygen machine or something. Everyone kept thanking me as if I'd done something amazing, which I didn't quite understand, I was glad of the company to be honest.

I had a four-hour stopover in Sydney, so I obviously haven't seen very much of Australia. I was very excited, however, when the coffee-shop man said, "g-day mate", when I ordered my tea. I feel like I've really been there now! What I saw of it didn't inspire me to stay for longer, but asking myself if would be inspired to stay in London if I spent four hours in Heathrow airport, I realised that didn't exactly mean much. I had another facial, this time courtesy of Clinique, and this time dodging a "helpful" lady who tried to sell me the entire range. I was already feeling a bit groggy from the food-poisoning, without realising I had food poisoning yet, so just put it down to the flight and lack of sleep. A man suddenly sat down opposite me and tried to engage me in witty banter, to which I largely just blinked at him and said, "wha?" every time he said something. Poor bloke. I did explain I'd just come off a 12 hour flight so he didn't take it too personally, and we actually managed to have a fairly civilised conversation in the end.

Swine flu panic has obviously gripped New Zealand, because I had to fill in a lengthy form to explain why I didn't have swine flu on arrival. It's one of those where you just tick "no" to everything and you're fine. I had a funny guy checking my form though. Seeing my rucksack he asked, "have you been hiking?" "Yes", I said. "Then are you carrying hiking boots?" "Yes" "Hmm, then I rather think you may have ticked 'yes' to question 5, 'Are you carrying hiking boots?'" Yes very good. After getting my boots cleaned in some kind of toxic liquid, I was just in time to catch the last airbus to the city centre, which was lucky, as otherwise I would have had to pay lots for a taxi. The good thing about New Zealand is that I don't have to worry about getting ripped off, and haggling, and people trying to con me. The bad thing is you pay more here than you would do if you paid the foreigner price in India. I keep saying "how much!?" I'd changed my remaining rupees, which would have lasted me two or three weeks in India, at the airport, and had spent it all by the time I'd got to my hostel and paid for my first night's accommodation.

I'd booked a dorm bed at Surf and Snow hostel, without writing down the address, and was carrying a map, without my hostel marked on it. The bus driver gave me directions but I got lost. I blame all this on the food poisoning. Anyway, after trying unsuccessfully to find it, I ended up at Queen Street Backpackers, which is a really nice hostel. One of the guys who works here just decided to make soup for everyone this afternoon because it was cold. They really look after you here. There's also a tv room, good for me in my current state. The hostel does seem to be disproportionately full of 18 year old boys though. Not that I have anything against 18 year old boys, but they have very bad taste in films. "Put Rambo on, the first death occurs in the first 45 seconds!" yelled one of them the other day. It's ok, I have lots of books.

So that's about it. I have felt a lot better today, and have even managed to have conversations with people. There are a couple of interesting people in my room, which is always good. I may even go out somewhere in the next day or two. I have walked up and down the main street. I have so far learnt Auckland is not very exciting. It reminds me a lot of home. Which I guess is good whilst I'm unwell, but it's not very inspiring. To be honest, it's making me wonder why I've been so homesick. What is there here but some shiny glass buildings and some clean pavements? What's so interesting in that? I'm being unfair though, I obviously haven't gone anywhere yet, and the extent of my exploring has led me so far to Starbucks. Starbucks! (I was very excited). New Zealand is meant to be beautiful, and I will endeavour to experience some of it. Some things are different anyway. I keep thinking I'm in England, and then someone will quote dollars at me and I'll get very confused and think, "am I in America?" Also, Starbucks is different. "Where's the normal hot chocolate, do you not do that?" I wailed. "We have the Signature hot chocolate, that is the normal one", explained to dreadlocked youth behind the counter. Honestly!

Plus, they have this really strange invention here called the traffic light, and things called pedestrian crossings. There are lights which stop the traffic, as if by magic, and then it is safe to cross the road. The first time I went to cross the road I thought, "why are all these people just standing here? There are hardly any cars, and those ones aren't moving, what's wrong with them?" They do seem to be much more obedient here though. No-one crosses the road when the red man is on, even if there are no cars. I'm sure in England that doesn't happen, does it? So strange how you get used to living a certain way.

Well, I'd best go. I was going to say something else but I've forgotten. I will endeavour to stop lolling and find a piece of New Zealand to inspire me! It's also freezing cold and has not stopped raining. See, it is like England!