What seemed like a million and one hours of flying and waiting and flying again has landed me in this magical land they call New Zealand. It seems as though I am dreaming yet I feel the wind on my face and the warmth of the sun on my back. I can breathe again. I arrived yesterday to find myself staying in a beautiful, what seems to me mansion like, hostel. Not more than an hour after I found my temporary home base I took the city by foot. I ran down Ponsonby, a beautiful trendy little street, engulfed in little boutiques, flower shops, and funky little restaurants and bars. Although my memory of New Zealand is somewhat vague considering I was so young, I feel as though I may have missed out on a lot
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