Tramping NZ

Traveling is full of the usual stressors and numerous encounters. After a day frought with traffic sig alerts and such, we arrived at John's mothers place too late for lunch but with a bit of time to visit with her and his sisters. Then on to airport where we got into a small but funny kerfluffle with TSA over my old Nikes. Apparently there is a section under the sole for a chip. They tore into the shoes to find my bomb - a small one - and returned when John decided they were too full of sand. He took one to a trash can to shake it, apparently losing the insole. So this trash can had an armed guard who accosted me as I tried to remove the filthy pink sand encrusted bit. Not allowed. Goes down many floors. Supervisor!  Supe!!  Supervisor secures his booth and marches over. I was visualizing handcuffs Che summarily lifted theLid but wouldn't deign to handle this squished pink thing. Shoes, back together, we left, giggling. 

Offending shoes

The Cirrus seats on the plane to Auckland were an improvement while Tom's friends on the same plane suffered in steerage.