Pilgrimage

September 1972

I was 21 and packing a large but lightweight bag which would carry everything I might need for a year 'Down Under'. New Zealand was on my horizon, with lovely Capernwray Lodge ready to welcome me.

My mother sat next to me on the bed, holding a great fat wallet. I eyed it cautiously because it contained money, a passport, important telephone numbers, and the US Embassy's New Zealand address. My mother seemed reluctant to hand it over. I had never traveled outside the country and I think she was entertaining doubts as to whether I would make it back.

"Keep this wallet safe," she was saying, an edge to her voice. "There are unscrupulous people who would like nothing better than to grab it if you leave it laying on a bench."

"Oh mom," I said, appalled. "I would never leave a wallet on a bench!" 

"Mm-hm," she approximately replied.

Fast forward to January, 2024. My mother no longer has to worry about whether I might leave my wallet on a bench.

But as I prepared for this trip, I read about how strict New Zealand is about bringing in fruits, vegetables, or animal products. Nothing like that was in any of my baggage, of course. I would never carry such non-acceptables. But walking toward customs and immigration, I saw signs forbidding these things and felt a twinge of uncertainty. The signs warned of a $400 fine and IMPRISONMENT. What if...  But I was so weary from the flight that I tiptoed through the barrier in a hopeful fear.

Ahead of me, a law enforcement officer appeared with a cute dog that was sniffing everybody's shoes and selves, and then it was sniffing my shoes and my self, and then it put its snout against my arm, in - not exactly a bite, but perhaps a nip. The law enforcement officer said, "Stop," - with an edge to her voice. I did.

She directed me to a designated search area, opened my bags, and let the dog sniff. Its snout came to rest upon a crumpled up paper bag, which I recognized as my TRASH BAG. Oh no! In it was a mandarin peel and empty tomato soup container. 

Have I told you yet how kind the people of New Zealand are? Even their law enforcement officers and dogs? Even that little nip was rather kind. I wanted to pet it, but refrained. And - thank Heavens! - there was no fine, and no imprisonment. As I exited my Uber a half hour later, there stood the Lodge, just exactly the way it had looked 50 years ago, with two wonderful and loving people standing on the porch, smiling, waiting just for me. 

Hugs; laughter; cups of tea. 

Pilgrimage. 

See you along the way!

the SconeLady