A curtain of thick humid air fell on my face and engulfed my nostrils, carrying with it an exotic twinge that snapped me out of my travel trance as I filed off the plane. The streamlined immigration process consisted of a glance at my declaration form and a stamp in my passport—the death penalty that they threaten for trafficking drugs into the country is apparently self-policing. Baggage claim and it was into a cab bound for our downtown hotel. Scooting along a smooth five lane highway I gazed out through the rainy darkness at a jungle of illuminated high-rise apartment buildings sporting hard, geometric lines that would make Le Corbusier proud. Even at 10pm the streets ushered a heavy flow of traffic, our driver jumped lanes often to keep momentum through the madness. Despite the rain sidewalks crawled with pedestrians, umbrellas bouncing backlit by the neon lights of the retail storefronts. Pulling up to the hotel the concierge opened my door allowing that thick sticky air to again rush my senses, this time with more of a distinctive scent identity, unidentifiable and foreign. A smiling face greeted me with a “hello sir” riding a heavy accent as I stepped out into the night. The atmosphere pulsed with energy, there were people moving everywhere—Asian and Indian faces predominantly, shuffling along the promenade and seeking refuge on the steps of the lobby. Occasional decipherable words floated in the sea of overlapping conversations, the excited hum was overwhelming after the long day of travel. I shouldered my pack and made my way up the stairs, the mellow vibe of New Zealand was fleeting as I begun entraining to my new environment.
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