Plans Down Under Go South

Plans Down Under Go South

A trip to New Zealand was my dream. I wanted to see the unspoiled hills and landscapes. The vistas only viewed on the big screen.

“Let’s go to New Zealand,” I told my husband one night. We were watching some stupid baseball game. “Go see the Southern Cross. All that beautiful unspoiled land down under.”

Mark looked at me, annoyed I interrupted his ball game. “Go where? The score is tied, Janine. Can’t this wait til later?”

I hopped on the internet. Seems a flight roundtrip to Auckland wasn’t all that expensive. We could do this. And a rental car, and a hotel room. I searched it all as the game went into extra innings.

“For pity sakes! Hit the ball! Worthless idiots!” Mark took a swig of beer, munched on chips.

The dog skulked over to me.

“I know, Bitsy. I know. We’d have to board you.” Key words that sent the dog back to Mark.

“One lousy run! Lost again. I swear…” Mark stomped off into the kitchen, probably after more liquid refreshment.

Bitsy came to me again.

“Okay, I think this will work. Flight, car, lodging, we can do this,” I spoke to the dog.

Mark wandered back to me. “Now what’s all this about a trip?”

“I just need your credit card, the one that gives us free miles. We’re going to New Zealand. I’ve got it all booked, I just need to pay.”

“New Zealand? Where in the world is that? Can’t we just drive there?” Mark sat beside me, gave me his card.

The map of the world was still on my laptop. Mark got a geography lesson. “And how do you propose we do that? We have to fly, a long way. We leave on Friday. Start packing. And it’s winter there, so pack some warmer clothes.”

We got everything booked, arranged for boarding the dog, got Marie to come water the plants, found our passports, packed the suitcases.

Then on Thursday, the day before we were to leave, everything changed, our world stopped. A notice on my email told me the credit card was canceled. Our flight canceled. Our hotel canceled. The kennel called, Bitsy’s reservation canceled.

“Janine, why can’t I order dinner?” Mark whined.

Now I had to tell my husband the bad news. A breach in security they said. All credit cards from our bank were compromised. New cards will arrive tomorrow. Too late for our wonderful trip to NZ.

We instead had fun in the bleachers. The farm team for the Dodgers played the farm team for the Yankees. Or something like that. We ate at Taco Bell. Then drove home and let the dog out. High times.

W/C 449