Sometime in late 2007, my wife Onie and I tried and applied for a permanent visa to New Zealand. A little over a year later, we found ourselves on a plane headed to Christchurch, and what is to be the most daunting journey of our lives.
This blog chronicles my adventure on this land of the long white cloud.
The flight into New Zealand took us to Brisbane in Australia, then to Sydney, before the plane headed to Christchurch. As the captain was announcing our descent to the premiere city of the Canterbury plains, Onie and I were craning our necks to get a glimpse of the land we will be calling home. Disappointingly, all we saw were a multitude of blondes staring out of the windows since we were situated in middle aisle. Now I would not have minded this in other instances, but this time around, the blondes were unlike the ones that Poms and I used to ogle on in Laguna Beach. As a matter of fact, they were old people. Blonde, maybe, but no thank you.
So, this may be the reason why New Zealand approved our immigration papers. They must have figured their country needed more young dark haired people. I don't know about the other criteria though because I slipped in quite easily.
And so it started...
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