I’m expecting nothing except what I booked, but I give them a very quick phone call just to confirm a couple of things (like arrival time and smoking preference). How I love having to chase hotels via international mobile calls. I end up with a very nice harbour view room (which wasn’t what I booked – so that’s a plus), a plate of scrummy champagne truffles, a beer voucher and no free breakfast. Plus there is broadband Interweb, but sadly it is firewalled against Flickr and strange things happen with Skype.

I decide to do a partial unpack rather than a full unpack and organise a few things like the laundry bag for the next morning (posh shirts again) and a nice long shower in the walk-in shower in the bathroom. I reappear out of the shower and someone has brought up a bottle of chilled Chardonnay, not a cheap bottle either. How very kind of them, I check that it is complimentary and I start drinking it out on the balcony staring at the harbour in the moonlight. It certainly helps with the sleeping

And the bed is nice and large and very comfy, but for some reason I’m a lot tossy-turny that night. However, I wake up, connect to the net, deal with the days traffic whilst drinking tea and then head out into the sunlight, with a priority of an orientation walk in progress and a spot of breakfast would be nice.

I end up in a food court off Quay Street with a cup of decent tea but a terrible ham and cheese croissant (ham plastic, cheese polystyrene, croissant soggy and who the blazes put ketchup in it). I then proceed in full photography mode to a tourist office, gaining a map, up Queen Street, along to the Sky Tower, up the Sky Tower (highest building in the Northern Hemisphere) to take panoramic photos. Down the Sky Tower (quite thankfully due to a slight sway in the breeze). Up through Aotea Square to the K-road carefully noting the large number of ethnic eateries and down Ponsonby Road where I stop at another food court. The Ponsonby Road Food Court has an interesting selection of places to eat and I choose a Vietnamese noodle salad with cut pork rolls. It’s damn good; it costs me about $8. The bottle of Steinlager that goes with it isn’t so good. Thence to a wonderful magazine shop where I catch up on a number of periodicals albeit at a silly price and stare at the lovely views of the CBD and Auckland Domain from Ponsonby Road down the hill. I then walk back down to the Viaduct Harbour admiring the gin palaces and noting where looks good for lunch etc and back to the hotel. A quick rest, a cup of tea and a couple of phone calls are made.

Luckily, a friend of a friend for dinner has invited me out. He has suggested moule/frites on one of the Belgian-style cafés in Auckland. Unfortunately, the city centre branch is rammed, but as Selwyn points out other places of foodie interest (for which many thanks), we get a taxi to Mt Eden to go to the branch there. This one is more pub like and we find a table on the 1st floor, a smoking table none the less (well, for another couple of weeks). Moules/frites and beers are ordered. I chose the classic style and a Chimay Blanc. The Chimay is served in the posy style favoured by yupscum bars; they empty the bottle, but give you the bottle as well. The moules arrive, they are great whopping New Zealand Green Lipped Mussels, about three times the size of your humble European mussel and they are very tasty. It’s also an advantage in that; the moules don’t get cold as you work your way through the pot. The frites are OK, they aren’t double-fried and they aren’t a patch on anything I’ve had in Belgium except from Mr Quick, but they are the best fries I’ve had in the Southern Hemisphere so far.

We look at the dessert menu, but there’s nothing particularly sending me there, so we pile into a taxi to go to a bar. The first bar we go to is closed, the second bar we go to is closed. Obviously pooves don’t go out in Auckland on a Tuesday night. So its back to the hotel bar for drinkies then, the Hilton has an expansive bar with a fine selection. Our server for the night is Cameron, who efficiently serves all three rounds of drinks. I decline to ask him “Cameron, why do you think that you should serve us drinks”. And so to bed, after precautions of paracetamol and water.

Day 2 turns up gray and misty, so I try and find gray and misty things to do. A bit of ambling, a potter over to Devonport for lunch and then some educational museums. Lunch is mince and cheese pie and chips, which is an NZ staple, it’s not bad. Of course, no sooner have I coughed up for the museum than it is decided that Mr Sun will come out for the afternoon. Which is a shame, as it would have been the nicest weather in New Zealand. However, I enjoy the walk through Auckland Domain and the Auckland Museum and learn lots about the Maori. I decide that I’ve had a bit of a heavy lunch and just pick up a salad for my dinner, after quite a bit of catching up with people on the phone, I decide to go out for the evening. Friends inform me that the only game in town is a place called Flesh and that it is awful. However, it’s only about 10 minutes walk away, so it’s worth a look. It is truly, madly, deeply awful. Firstly, it’s a karaoke night, which is usually a fair bet for a crap night out. Secondly, it’s thinly populated except for obvious regularly. Thirdly, the karaoke appears mainly to be done from show tunes and smooch songs of the 50’s/60’s and 70’s. It’s not very friendly and the beer is expensive and crap, but the sight of a bunch middle-aged Maori lesbitarians d’un a certain size belting out these songs will live with me for ever. Actually, it must be said that the one that did “Love Potion No 9” had a cracking voice.

Day 3 is a crap day, it’s gray and misty again and I feel a bit crap and a bit lonely for only the second time this trip. To be honest, I don’t get out of the hotel room much, I manage to escape about lunchtime for a quick feed, a bit of present shopping and to buy some supplies. Other than that, I don’t bother.

Day 4 is my last day there, it starts off bright and sunny, and I go and have the expensive but rather good breakfast in White looking out over a sunlit Auckland Harbour. I then decide to sort out my bags, check out early, put them in store and go for a harbour cruise as my attempts to get a check out any later than 12:00 have failed. By the time, I have sorted out a ticket; it has become gray and miserable again. Dosed to the eyeballs on Dramamine, I manage to survive the harbour cruise, which I took a lot of photos on and enjoyed the scenery, especially at Rangitoto, the houses on Stanley Point and seeing people aboard a cruise on NZ40. On returning, I have three and a half hours to waste, I fill this in with a food court lunch, a couple of hours in a cybercafe and a couple of hours bimbling around the streets trying not to buy things. I then return to the Hotel, collect my bags and head off in a taxi to the airport.