Wullington Eerport

Wullington Eerport

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When we got to Wellington airport (or ‘Wullingtun Eerport’ as the locals insisted on calling it), we invested in some duty free: a bottle of Jim Beam and one of Absolut for NZ$49, which is about £12. After all, we’re hard-working girls with hard-working livers, and this was going to be a holiday involving plenty of hard drinking. The bourbon leaked all over me, meaning I walked through Customs stinking like Olly Reed after a quiet night in. Not only that, but Jimmy the beagle sniffed out my oranges in the queue and I had to make the walk of shame – or rather, stupidity – through the ‘Dangerous Fruit Smugglers’ aisle of customs.

Once we had made our way to the other side of customs, Jacq went to change some Aussie dollars into Kiwi dollars. Just as she approached the exchange booth, the announcer bellowed, “Will Kerri Tyler please go to Information?” Wondering what might happen now and whether Jimmy the beagle had dobbed me in for the packet of Juicy Fruit in my inside pocket, I made my way to Information. Turned out all I’d done was leave my passport at Customs, but that was enough to embarrass Jacq and send her scuttling for the exit.

Wullington is a small airport, and getting a shuttle bus into town was easy enough and cost NZ$18.

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