Visa Update #3: Telling Your Beautiful, Intimate, and Private Love Story to a Complete Stranger Is Just As Complex And Icky As It Sounds


Lemme start out by filling you guys in on where I am with the visa application.

As I detailed in my brief, calm, and not at all insane visa update last week, I have now completed all of the required medical exams.

I’ve made three calls to Immigration thus far to clarify a number of questions I’ve had. The biggest question, which I asked all three people, was “How late can I submit my application?”. I want to submit it as late as possible, since that gives me a chance to collect even more proof of our partnership, i.e. bills we have both been paying. I asked each of the three different people at Immigration and received three very different answers, which is both infuriating and baffling.

My Visitor Visa, the 90-day visa I was automatically granted the day I arrived here, expires April 1st. The first person I spoke with said that I could submit my application “right before my current visa is set to expire.” The second person I spoke with said Oh god no, early March at the latest!! The third person I spoke with said that it takes about a week for Immigration to look over my application and decide whether it’s completed to their satisfaction, in which case they issue me an Interim Visa which allows me to stay until they’ve made a ruling on my case.

The third guy sounded the most confident, and his answer made the most sense, so I’ll be submitting my application the weekend of March 23/24.

Here is what I have left to do before I submit it:

  • Fill in the names/addresses/phone numbers/DOB for three (it doesn’t specify the number, but three is the general consensus) people I know who live in New Zealand. From what I understand, these people will not be contacted unless I flee into the hills of Aotearoa and go into hiding. In other words, it’s just a safety net so that Immigration has a starting point if they need to track down someone who violates the terms of their visa (by overstaying, I imagine).
  • Stewart has to complete Form INZ 1146, “Partners Supporting Partnership-Based Temporary Entry Applications.” Despite the lengthy form name and the fact that it’s six dense pages long, it will take less than ten minutes to complete. It’s a lot of basic information—full name, DOB, city or town of birth, passport number, etc—and then there are entire pages he can skip since they pertain specifically to culturally-arranged marriages or people who are eligible to support a partnership-based application but are themselves not New Zealand citizens.
  • I need to upload documents proving that we live together in a “genuine and stable partnership,” such as a joint tenancy agreement, screenshots of our joint bank account, photos of mail we have both received at our address…stuff like that. That will be the very last part of the application I’ll do, since I want to collect as much of this proof as possible. (A Kiwi friend of mine, who has gone through the partner visa thing with her American parter, informed me the other day that you can go back in and keep adding stuff to your visa application once you’ve submitted it, which is amaaaaazing because that means I can continue to send them proof that we continue to live together in a “genuine and stable partnership”).
  • We need to ask ___ number of people who know us as a couple to write letters on our behalf testifying to our love for and commitment to one another. Technically this is not a requirement for the application; in fact, it’s not even listen on there. But I’ve done a great deal of research into this and it’s really, really good to have people testify on your behalf. Some websites recommend getting letters from “prominent members of your community, such as a priest or rabbi.” Guess we gotta get real religious in the next 4.5 weeks….

  • And lastly, I have to write the “Relationship Timeline.”

    Oh, the Relationship Timeline. The deceptively simple-sounding assignment which is in fact an absolute beast of a task, upon which Immigration will base a good portion of my case.

    From my research, it seems that Immigration purposely keeps the required “Relationship Timeline” vague in terms of what they’re looking for so that people who are trying to cheat the system don’t just go down and tick off all the boxes. Okay, fair enough, but like…..what do they want???

    I have spent so many hours of my life Googling this mysterious Relationship Timeline to find out what exactly they want to see.

    I have searched for posts from complete strangers on the internet who wrote Relationship Timelines that satisfied Immigration, and then picked through their posts/comment threads with a fine-toothed comb looking for any tips sprinkled in there.

    I have foraged around the websites of licensed immigration officers to see what they had to say about it.

    I have found subreddits where people in my shoes have asked what the hell Immigration wants to see, and then eagerly read through successful applicants’ responses while jotting down notes.

    Here is the general consensus: the “Relationship Timeline” is where you get to tell the story of your relationship in your own words. There’s no recommended length for this document, but absolutely everyone says the more you tell them, the better. Tell them everything. Send them everything. Do not make them have to contact you for more proof.

    I’ve screenshot the most thorough description of the Relationship Timeline I’ve found, which is from a licensed immigration website. You can click on the photos to enlarge them (those of you reading this on your phones may have to just zoom in; apologies). Grab a seat for this doozy of a read:

Yeaaaaaaaaaah. That’s A LOT.

Thanks to my years of partner-based NZ visa research, I’ve known about the existence of this “Relationship Timeline” for a while. And I knew it would be laborious putting it all together. But what I did not expect was that it would feel so emotional and…..well, if we’re being honest, so violating. Everyone (“everyone”) says to include screen shots of significant moments in your relationship, such as when you first told one another that you loved each other, and when you decided to become a committed couple. Show them how you got each other through tough times. Include lots and lots of photos of you and your partner on trips, out with friends, having fun. If your partner has kids, include photos of you/you and your partner with the kids. Etc etc etc etc etc.
Just give them everything.

About 85% of our relationship has been long-distance, meaning that we have nearly every one of our “significant milestones” in writing, which–I hate to say this–is convenient in terms of having to provide evidence. But going back through our four years of beautiful, private conversations for the sole purpose of cherry picking “the good stuff” for my application feels awful. I don’t want to send someone a screen shot of the first time we said “I love you.” I don’t want to send someone a cute picture of us on our first date. It feels like in order to prove the genuine depth of this immense love we have, I have to cheapen our story down to a bunch of juicy sound bites. I am not a particularly private person, but those moments belong to us.

Let me emphasize again that the visa application *does not* state that it requires any of this information. It simply says they want a “Relationship Timeline.” I could therefore just send them a simple list of dates and events. But I know that won’t be sufficient, and there’s just so damned much at stake here that I feel like I have no choice but to use these intimate, significant moments of our love story as a means to a end.

But that’s exactly how I have to think of it: a means to an end. The more you send them, the stronger your case, says the entirety of the internet. And I’d rather send them too much proof than not enough. And in this case, the “end” part of “a means to an end” is the first step in my getting to live here.

So rather than allowing this monumental assignment to make me feel like my privacy is being invaded, I’m choosing to look at it this way: if there’s one thing I’m good at—in all modesty—it’s telling a story, and we have a damned good story to tell. If they (allegedly) want everything, I’ll give them everything.

The first page of our Relationship Timeline is going to be the most bare-bones list of significant events and their corresponding dates, in case my application lands on the desk of someone with a short attention span who happens to be in a foul mood that day. As for the rest of it? I want it to be the best damned Relationship Timeline that person has ever read. I want them to be riveted, I want them to be moved to tears, I want them to laugh out loud (years ago I came across this obscure quote–attributed to a court jester–which I’ve never forgotten: “Make them laugh; they’ll have a harder time shooting you.”). I want them to forward it to their colleagues. I want them to tell their spouse about it over dinner that night. I want them to be rooting for us.

If they want a good story, they’ll get one.

Hellllllo From The Antipodeeeees……

(It doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like the Adele song….)

First off, yes! I got my email subscription to work! Huzzah! Thanks for everyone’s patience while I labored through that annoying WordPress plugin issue.



I’m here today to geek out about a cool concept–and cool word–which I stumbled across a few years ago in my New Zealand research: “antipodes”.

Antipodes (singular: antipode) comes from the Greek word ἀντίποδες, which roughly translates as “those with feet opposite ours” and referred to people living on the other side of the world.

The antipode of any spot on Earth is the point on Earth’s surface diametrically opposite to it. That is, if you chose a spot and dug a hole straight through the center of the earth and came out the other side, you’d find that spot’s antipode. The antipode of Whitianga, New Zealand—where I live—is Malaga, Spain. The antipode of Cape Cod, Massachusetts—where I grew up—is several hundred miles off the coast of Perth, Australia.

The antipode of Cape Cod, Massachusetts.

Australia and New Zealand are (apparently; I’ve never personally heard it) sometimes called “The Antipodes” by inhabitants of the Northern Hemisphere, and Australians and New Zealanders are (again, I’ve never heard this) sometimes called “Antipodeans.” A quick google search of “antipodes New Zealand” brings up a number of NZ companies with the word “antipodes” in the name, including a line of skin exfoliants, a chemist, and a company that sells water, so it seems like the word is not entirely uncommon here, at least in the skin exfoliant/chemistry/bottled water industries.

Because 71% of the Earth’s surface is covered in water, only about 15% of any given point of land has an antipode that’s also on the land. And there’s a good chance everything else has an antipode in the Pacific Ocean, since it’s so massive. In fact, the Pacific Ocean is so massive that it contains a number of its own antipodes. Out of the 15% of land that has other land as its antipode, the biggest examples are certain sections of eastern/southeastern China, Mongolia, and Russia, whose antipodes are in Argentina and Chile; the Malay Archiapelago (between Southeast Asia and Australia) whose antipode is in the Amazon basin; Greenland, whose antipode is in east Antarctica; and New Zealand’s North Island, whose antipode is in southern Spain.

For my friends back home: before you go racing to this cool website to determine your antipode: the antipode of nearly every point in the United States is in the Indian Ocean, with the exception of two tiny, remote spots in eastern Colorado which are each the antipode to two tiny, uninhabited, volcanic islands: St. Paul Island and Amsterdam Island.

Other cool facts about antipodes!

* At any given moment, there exist two antipodal points with the same temperature and barometric pressure. This is known as the Borsuk-Ulam Theorem, which is also known as the most intellectually advanced thing to which I have, and likely will, ever hyperlink.

* There is archipelago of uninhabitable volcanic islands, called the Antipodean Islands, about 500 miles southwest of Stewart Island, which is just off the southern coats of the South Island of NZ.

* In 2020, a guy in Spain and a guy in New Zealand made an “Earth sandwich” by each placing a slice of bread at the exact antipode of one another at the exact same time (in case you’re wondering: yes. Yes, they found each other on Reddit. Of course they found each other on Reddit).

And lastly, here is a list from Wikipedia of the only cities who have exact or nearly exact antipodes (look how many are in New Zealand! 😍):

Soothing Photos of Flowers From Our Charming Little Garden,

because a lot of you back home in New England are bracing for a nasty snowstorm in a few hours, and I also wanted to balance out the frustration and anxiety of my previous post.

My life here really is wonderful. I am extraordinarily lucky, and I have never and will never lose sight of that or take for granted, in any way, the fact that I’m in the position to be doing this in the first place. It’s important for me to emphasize this lest I god forbid ever come across as being whiny or petulant, looking like I’m stomping my feet to elicit pity for a situation that I have 100% put myself into. Bringing you all along with me on this journey means that I am bringing you along for *all* of the ups and downs I will be going through. But it’s mostly ups, and I do acknowledge this.

Now for the promised soothing photos of flowers, plus a photo of me holding a bowl of nearly-ripe passionfruits from the vine we have growing along the porch.
PS: you can click on each photo to make it bigger.

Visa Update #2: Navigating the New Zealand Immigration Medical Jungle, plus A History of the United States Land Transport Network and A Woman named ‘Thank You’.

As I mentioned in my previous post, last week was both awesome and kind of shitty. If you haven’t already, go back and read the fun one first because it has pictures of ponies and is way more entertaining to read. I’m not even including pictures in this post.

So last week, in addition to hanging out with friends and frolicking with farm animals, I decided to rip off the bandaid (or “plaster,” as they say here) and tackle medical stuff, driver’s license stuff, and bank account stuff.

Medical Stuff:

One of the requirements for Immigration NZ is that I–most people–have to get a “general medical exam” and a chest x-ray. I’ve been researching this for a few years now, so I knew, and had budgeted for, these exams. But it was way more complicated and expensive than I was expecting. Hopefully sharing my experience will help someone down the line so that they’re better prepared than I was.

I quickly figured out that there is no set price for the exams required by Immigration, which….come on, guys, that’s absurd. The immigration process is difficult and stressful and time-consuming enough that I shouldn’t have to spend an entire day doctor-shopping for the best bargain price. But that’s exactly what I did: I spent hours going down the list of Immigration NZ-approved physicians and radiology places (the closest of which were in Hamilton or Auckland, each 2.5 hours away) and emailed or called all of them to ask how much they charge. The price varied by a lot, but everything is so spread out that to drive one place and save $75 would mean spending $75 in gas to get to the other place. I had pages of scribbled notes in front of me and my phone in my hand, plugging various locations into my maps app to calculate the distance.

I finally found an Immigration-approved doctor and x-ray practice in the same area–Manukau City, a suburb of Auckland–and despite my lack of confidence about city driving, I went ahead and contacted the doctor’s office. We had so many emails flying back and forth that I lost count. It didn’t help that the woman I was writing back and forth with used excessive punctuation, which I found incredibly stressful.
They needed a copy of my passport, of course, and then had me fill out paperwork pertaining to which sort of visa I’m applying for. But they didn’t have the actual, official visa names; they had things like “Work Visa with a Job Offer,” “Work Visa Without a Job Offer,” etc. I checked the second one and send the form in.
The woman emailed back “But what do you do for work???” (<—see what I mean about the excessive punctuation??? The entire time I thought she hated me).
I politely explained that I don’t work….because I….can’t work? Because I don’t have a work visa? Which is why I am applying for a work visa?
“But did you not work in the United States???”.
For the love of god, lady. Yes, of course I worked in the States. Is that what you meant? Cuz that’s super unclear on your form. I told her I was a gardener for four years, if that’s what she wanted to know. She replied “That is all that we needed to know!!!!”. (OKAY LADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).
I should mention that she was quite nice, and non-aggressive, in person.

Funny aside: the woman signed each email “Ngā Mihi.” I assumed that was her name, right? But then I received an email from a woman at a completely different place that was also signed “Ngā Mihi.” I’m no detective, but it seems…..unlikely…..that I’d somehow managed, in the span of an hour, to contact two people with the exact same unusual name. Thankfully I googled it, because “Ngā Mihi” means “Thank You” in te reo Māori, so I was *this close* to walking into the doctor’s office and going “Hey, you must be Thank You! Thank you for all of your help setting this up.” I’ve definitely heardNgā Mihi” spoken out loud, but I guess I pictured it being one word. The number of things that are new about living in a new country are really astounding.

Finally I appeased the !!!!!overly aggressive but actually very nice in person office manager lady!!!!—-whose name is not Ngā Mihi—and was able to book an appointment for last Monday. I was……surprised……to find that the doctor’s office was located on the upper level of a shopping mall. And they also only took cash for the $150 Immigration exam. I was filled with skepticism, but while I spent time in their waiting room I listened to them field a number of phone calls about immigration medical exams, which was reassuring.

I met with an NP first, who examined my passport, took my blood pressure, put one of those devices on my fingertip to measured the saturation of oxygen in my red blood cells (thank you, Google), gave me a very basic eye exam, took my height and weight, asked if I was pregnant, took down my medication information (I brought the actual bottles with me), and finally had me give them a urine sample, which does not entail peeing into the little plastic cup but in fact involves an awkward little square-shaped plastic container that you pee into and then have to tip into a very tiny vial. Again, the number of new things you encounter in a new country…

The NP was very sweet, and when I told her how stressful I was finding this whole visa process is, she said “My friend, it’s a lot to go through but you’ll get there.” Bless her. Ngā Mihi!

Then I met with the doctor himself. I was prepared for an intense physical, and had even come armed with a PDF of the last 8 years of my medical records, but it was shockingly brief. He listened to my heart, checked my ears, gave me a breast exam, asked if I had any allergies, and asked if I’ve had any surgeries. Easy peasy. The hard part was when we got to my medications.

I’m gonna lay it out for you guys because when I started this blog I promised as much transparency as possible, and also because I’m a big proponent for destigmatizing the social taboos surrounding mental health issues: I take three medications, one of which is an antidepressant and one of which is an anti-anxiety. I knew the latter would likely be tricky, as benzodiazepines are highly controlled in the States, but it did not occur to me that the fact that I was on these medications in the first place would give him such pause. He asked me a number of questions about my mental health history, including voluntary or involuntary hospitalizations (no to both), how long have I felt stable, have I every seen a therapist, etc. He asked if I’ve seen a psychiatrist in the last six months, which I have not, so he said that Immigration may contact me after I’ve submitted my visa and require me to meet with one (UPDATE from April 2024: yep, they did require me to get a psych eval). More appointments, more long drives, more money shelled out. Ugh. And then there was the bloodwork (unrelated to the fact that I take medications) that I apparently also needed to have done, which was something that had not come up in my visa research. He said I had to go to a walk-in lab, and recommended one across town. Yet another unexpected expense. But what choice do I have? And I have to think long term: I’m doing all of this so that I can live here in this extraordinary country with my extraordinary partner. Suck it up, buttercup.

The next day was Waitangi Day, a national holiday which I will discuss in a future post, so I had to wait until the day after to get the chest x-ray ($170 NZD) and bloodwork ($207 NZD). Adding the $150 NZD for the general medical exam and we have a grand total of $527 NZD–about $326 USD–for all of the required medical exams. Plus the cost of the gas to get there and back, which was 215 miles round trip and honestly I don’t feel like calculating that cost but it ain’t cheap. Again, I knew roughly what I’d be spending for the medical exam and x-ray, but the extra charge for the bloodwork was a surprise. And I’m really not psyched about having to wait and see if they flag my application and make me shell out the time, travel, and money for a psych eval. 😔

A few days later, I received an automatic email from the doctor’s office saying that they’d submitted all of my medical files to Immigration (the x-ray and bloodwork place both sent my records to the doctor), and provided me with my New Zealand eMedical Reference number and my Immigration New Zealand Health Case Reference number. I immediately went online typed those numbers onto my visa application, which felt good. Now I can (hopefully) cross off all Immigration-related medical expenses and appointments.

Once I got home from Manukau City, I decided I may as well continue to psychologically and financially torment myself and deal with how I was going to go about getting my pesky prescriptions filled when I run out in about 6 weeks. I’d emailed the local medical center last year, explaining that I would be here on a visitor’s visa for 6-7 months until I could procure a work visa, and asked how I could go about getting my medications refilled. They told me to just come in (it’s a walk-in center) and shell out the Non-NZ Resident fee of $175 NZD (which turned out to be $185 NZD, or $114 USD; they must have raised their prices) to meet with a doctor, and they’d take care of having the prescriptions filled for me for a cost of $3-$5 each. Easy peasy, right? Of course not.

I waited for a while and met with a very nice doctor who explained to me that two of the three medications I take cannot be filled–even by her—before I’ve gone in for a psych evaluation, which is something I have to do every two years. She emphasized that this rule (law?) applies to everyone, Kiwi or Non-Kiwi, who take these two (and probably many other) medications. I knew the anti-anxiety medication would be a bitch to get filled, but I was really thrown for a loop that I couldn’t have my very common antidepressant, which I have been on for twelve years and have the medical records to prove it, filled without seeing someone first. I mean, I feel like people who take antidepressants are ubiquitous, at least in America (which should surprise no one because just read the news and you yourself will need an antidepressant–and a benzodiazepine. I kinda feel like Americans trying to move to New Zealand right now should be given a pass on their mood stabilizing medications). Kidding.
But in all honesty, I do respect the fact that New Zealand doesn’t just throw medications around like confetti. Having to routinely meet with a psychiatrist if you’re on a prescription drug for mental health issues does make sense. I was just throwing a small internal tantrum over having to do it because I knew it meant spending even more money that hadn’t been on my super-thorough list of anticipated visa-related expenses……
Also, now that I’ve had a few days to digest all of this, of course New Zealand would want to send someone on antidepressants for a psych evaluation to make sure they won’t routinely wind up in the hospital, burdening their healthcare system. I just hadn’t thought about that. Now I know–and now everyone reading this knows.

The doctor recommended this practice in Auckland whom she’s worked with a lot; she said they’re understanding and generally just really great. She said she’d send them a referral and a letter saying that I needed a psychiatric evaluation but that in her opinion, I was smart (😊) capable ( 😃) and mentally sound (🤔). She left for a few minutes and when she came back she handed me a copy of a specialist reference letter she’d just sent them.
I called them as soon as I got home, only to find that their next appointment isn’t until mid-April (my medication will run out several weeks before that) and that the hour and a half long evaluation would cost me $560 NZD ($344 USD). What the—?! I said I had to call them back and hung up the phone. I can pay for it, lest anyone feel like they need to wire me money; it was just a shocking price tag. That’s more than all of the medical exams combined, even with the fee for the unexpected bloodwork.
I spoke to a Kiwi friend that night, telling her the story in a “Can you believe that?!” kind of way, and she just sighed and said “Yeah.” She’s heard this before. And in fact I contacted a number of other places who charge more–some up to $1,100. Jesus H.
I’m going to see if at least some of my prescriptions can be filled back home and have one of my parents pick them up and mail them to me (my parents have been doing a bunch of favors/favours for me–thank you both!). But I may have to “suck it up, buttercup” again and pay the fee (and petrol) to go to Auckland if that plan doesn’t work. Plus there’s a chance Immigration may make me get a psych eval anyway, so…….ugh. Like I said, it was a long week. But wait, there’s more! Because now we have the…….

Driver’s License Stuff:

While I was in Manukau City, I figured I’d drop in to the AA Centre (NZ’s DMV) to convert my overseas driver’s license (which just means getting a NZ license; I still keep my Massachusetts one). You can drive on an overseas license for a year here, so technically I don’t need my NZ license until January 2025. But since I’m trying to collect as much solid evidence as possible that I am established in this country, and since I currently have a lot of free time on my hands, and since it was just a 20 minute drive from where I was, I figured I may as well get it done now. (By the way, America is on a list of countries whose drivers do not need to take a road test in order to get a NZ driver’s license, which is odd to me since we don’t even drive on the same side of the road but whatever/yay!).

I’d come prepared with the necessary documents, which is a simple two-page form and a full color copy of my passport and my MA driver’s license. I waited for about half an hour. Oh, the way they wait at the DMV here—or at least at the one in Manukau City–was both baffling and adorable. There’s no machine where you get assigned a ticket number, but there are three rows of plastic chairs, and when you arrive you sit in the one closest to the door, and every time someone is called up, everyone gets up and shifts over. It’s like DMV musical chairs. My seatmates and I giggled about it. Anyway, my turn came around and I skipped up there, all proud of myself for being so organized and getting this out of the way so quickly, but after examining my license the woman handed it back to me and said that I needed to have held a valid driver’s license for at least two years. Which I have, of course; I’ve been driving legally and uninterrupted-ly for nearly 30 years. The problem, however, was that I switched over to a REAL ID* in September 2022, so all that they can see is that I have held a valid driver’s license for 17 months. Shit. This never even occurred to me, but of course she was correct. And my damned license even says it was “issued in” September 2022, not “REissued in.” The woman apologetically told me that I needed to contact the United States Land Transport to procure a certified history of every time my license has been renewed. I sighed, thanked her, and left. Luckily it hadn’t wasted much of my time, since all I had to do was drive across the city and wait for a little while. Still, it would have been really reassuring to cross this off my list.

When I got home I looked over my hastily scribbled notes. The United States……Land Transport? Is that what that says? Okay, so I googled “United States Land Transport” and the first hit was a website about heavy freight transport quotes. Then bulk equipment quotes. The third hit gave me a history of the US transport network, which is a “45,000 mile interstate system known and the Dwight D……”. Yeah, no. So I called NZTA (NZ Transport Agency), waited on hold for a very long time, finally got a very pleasant woman on the phone, explained my situation, and she went “A United States what? I have no idea what that woman was talking about. No, here’s what you need…….” and proceeded to tell me something different.

I just want to take a moment to make this very long post even longer and ask this: is everyone not looking at the same screen? Two people at NZTA told me two different things. Three people at Immigration have told me three different things. Back home I used to have this problem all the time with MassHealth, Verizon, you name it. Why does the answer to your question vary depending on who answers the phone? I mean, I ran an independent bookstore for ten years and no matter which one of us you spoke to about our return policy/ordering turnaround time/what have you, you got the same answer to your question, and we most certainly did not have a manual to refer to. And we were dealing with books; this is immigration, driver’s licenses, healthcare…..get your act together, you guys. (Sorry; I’m just frustrated).

The very nice NZTA woman on the phone explained that I needed something that they here in NZ call a “list of particulars” but she had no idea what it was called in….which state was I from? She’d be happy to try and figure it out with me. Bless her. We never found an actual name for this document, but it boiled down to the fact that yes, that other woman was correct about one thing: I needed a certified history of every time my license has been renewed. She advised me to contact the Mass DMV and wished me luck.

I scoured the MA DMV website, even going so far as to email them despite figuring I’d get a form response in like 12 weeks if I was lucky. I Googled until my fingers bled. I tried every combination and synonym of the words “Drivers” “License” “History” “Renewal” “Rundown” that I could come up with. Nada. And then, wonder upon wonders, the MA DMV emailed me back (mea culpa, Mass DMV, you are much more efficient than I gave you credit for) and sent me this link to something which they said “may or may not” be what I needed but it was the closest thing they could find. So I downloaded the PDF, filled it out (thanks to this nifty free PDF tool I found on Reddit), and emailed it to my Dad along with a copy of my license, asking him to mail it all off with a $5 check, and then look for a piece of mail in about two weeks which he then has to open, scan, and email to me, and it “may or may not” be what I need. 🤞🏼 If it isn’t, I have the option to schedule, pay for, and take a driver’s test to get my NZ license, but if it comes to that I’ll just wait until September.

*For my non-American friends: by May of 2025, every US citizen is required to have a REAL ID in order to fly domestically. It seems like it’s just a souped-up version of a regular driver’s license that has added security measures and a little star in the corner. Originally everyone had to have one by (I think it was) 2020 or 2021, but they kept pushing it back because of Covid. I can’t honestly remember if I needed to convert to a REAL ID in September of 2022 or whether I was just being proactive, but either way: urggggggh.

Bank Account Stuff:

I’ve changed my mind about this part of the post; I can’t even get into the bank stuff right now. Everyone I’ve dealt with at the town’s three banks has been exceedingly nice, but each bank is open (I’m not kidding) ten hours a week, and two people from the same bank gave me extremely conflicting information (Yes I can open an account with them, of course I can, they would welcome me as a new customer!/No, I cannot open a bank account with them because I need to get a visa, even though I can’t get a visa without a bank account*). Again with the question about “is everyone not looking at the same screen…….”.

*Technically yes, I can get a visa without a bank account, but having a bank account goes a long way.

I do want to add, despite this very long and frustrated rant, that every single person I interacted with in this post was either perfectly pleasant or exceedingly nice, even if they ultimately couldn’t help me. I feel that it’s important for me to point this out.

I really appreciate any of you who actually made it through this monster of a post. Man, this whole immigrating-to-another-country thing is NOT easy, but I couldn’t do it without you guys. I mean it.

Ngā mihi. 🥰

Spend Time on a Horse Farm in New Zealand: Bucket List Check. ✅

Last week was a total mixed bag; half of it was so awesome, half of it kind of sucked. This post is about the fun part.

One of Stu’s closest childhood friends and his partner were visiting from Australia a few weeks ago. They came to Whitianga and we got to spend some time with them. I met them for the first time last year, when we all went to a rugby game and then hung out late into the evening having some beers and laughing a lot. I just adore them.

The night before they were leaving Whiti….hold up, UPDATE: They got engaged while they were here!!! They just made that public on social media so I can now add that in. Huge congrats to you two! Can’t wait for the wedding!
So the night before they left, it came up that I was heading to Auckland for a doctor’s appointment the following week. It turns out Stu’s friend and his partner would be in a suburb north of Auckland the same day, staying for a few nights with her mom (“mum”), and would I like to stay with them there for a few days? On her mum’s horse farm?

WHAT. Um, YES I want to spend two days on your mother’s horse farm in the hills of New Zealand.

One of the Schnauzers was really uncertain how she felt about my being there.

My friend’s mum is, unsurprisingly, just as sweet and funny and kick-ass as her daughter. She welcomed me to their farm, which is home to 4-5 gorgeous horses, 3 miniature horses, 4 (5? 6?) mini Schnauzers (I swear to god everywhere I looked there was a Schnauzer), a dozen chickens, a lop-eared bunny, and several large cages full of cockatiels, Chinese button quail, something that looked like small parrots but were in fact a different bird entirely but I forget what they are, and a number of other exotic birds. Plus her mum’s gardens were the best ones I’ve seen since my own mum’s gardens back home, resplendent with dahlias, sunflowers and something called a “swan bush” which attracts Monarch butterflies. I was in heaven.

Monarch on a swan bush.

But wait, it gets even better. They put me in the guest room, which has a sliding glass door that opens right onto the miniature horse paddock. I woke up to ponies outside my door every morning. Are you kidding me?! They were super excited to see me (read: they wanted to know if I had snacks for them), and one morning I went to the door armed with carrots my friend had given to me to give to them. Oh man, did they come trotting over! And then I ran out of carrots and they decided to try and come in my room to see if I was hiding any more. It was so funny when one of them stepped his tiny hoof through the doorway, until I suddenly realized that I was about to have three ponies in the house. I managed to back him out before I was run over. When I told my friend about it, she just shrugged and went “Meh. I’m sure they’ve broken into the house before.” Love these people.

Moments before the attempted break-in.

I happened to be visiting the morning that a renowned jumping trainer was there to give three separate lessons to a half dozen riders of varying abilities (but even the “beginners” were really impressive), so I sat and sipped my morning coffee while I watched the most beautiful horses and their skilled riders take turns jumping. A few of my friend’s mum’s own horses were ridden, including a black and white pinto draft horse with gigantic feet and a flowing mane and tail which has literally been my dream horse since I was six years old. And oh my god, there is talk about me possibly getting to ride him the next time–‘the next time’!– I’m there….!?!

As I was bidding everyone a fond farewell after an amazing visit, I told my friend’s mum that I would GLADLY drive two hours to pet- and house-sit for them if they were ever in a bind. I don’t know if overseeing an actual farm counts as “pet-sitting,” but I really do hope they take me up on it.

I packed up my little car (yes, yes, I promise to tell you about my little car!) and drove a few hours to a DOC (Department of Conservation) campsite at Uretiti Beach, about an hour and a half north of Auckland on the east coast, where I camped—in my car—for the night. I’ve done it before, putting the back seats down and making a little nest, and it’s actually not a bad night’s sleep. Plus it was a 30 second walk over the dunes to the beach, and DOC campsites (at least the ones I’ve been to) are tidy, well-managed, and very safe. I was the only person sleeping in a car and not a campervan, but who cares. I hung out on the beach under the stars, had some beers, enjoyed a pre-prepared box lunch from New World* for dinner, read a book under the covers with a flashlight, slept in my car, took a very cold yet refreshing morning shower, and was packed up and on the road at 8am the next day.

*Although New World, one of NZ’s largest grocery store chains, sells tasty and reasonably-priced boxed lunches, they fail to include a spoon with which to eat the cute little yogurt. Luckily I figured this out before I got to the beach, so I swung into an op shop (thrift shop) that I passed on the way. NZ has the *best* (and most plentiful!) op shops and I try and stop at every one I pass. I went in looking for a spoon, which I found for $.50, but I also stumbled across this absolutely baller espresso machine for an absolute fraction of its insane retail price, so now we can make delicious flat whites (like creamy lattés) in the comfort of our own home. PS: isn’t it the best color, too?!

So yeah: that was the very, very fun part of last week.

PS: Oh my god, L&M, I am just so happy for you two! Congrats again!!! ❤️