But first the minutia

The bike bag ended up a little overweight so I attempted to redistribute to my carryon. The bike remained heavy, but (and I don't want to this to get out there or everyone might start doing it) bikes weigh less if they're not entirely on the airport scale when checking in. But then the mean ticket agent wanted to weigh my carry on and it's 5 kg over. The nice ticket agent tells me to move some stuff into the bike bag and she'll let me have a couple of over. I do a little of that. I put on my cycling shoes. I stuff my backpack with everything heavy. 

Only 1 kg over on the carryon. I get an approved tag, then promptly re-redistribute because cycling shoes are uncomfortable (I had to walk 2 miles through the airport to get to Dunkin Donuts) and my backpack is too heavy to carry. I've got one more flight to check in for, hopefully they don't weigh me again.

So I've been awake for nearly 8 hours by the time breakfast is served. Behind the breakfast cart, they're pushing a drink cart with a full bar. I order a screwdriver. The flight attendant has never heard of a screwdriver, but assumes it's a drink. Is this a Kiwi thing or an age thing. Nobody else on the flight is drinking and they may have cut me off already.

The rest of the day is a haze. Breezed through electronic immigration in Auckland. Once again nobody welcomed me home. Went through the nothing to declare line at customs/biohazard. Not sure if that was correct, but I clearly had a bicycle. Hopefully nobody will come looking for me to take soil samples of my tires. Arrived in Queenstown after dark. Google maps showed a 1.8 km walk from where I stood in baggage claim. The thought of squeezing everything into a Kiwi Uber and paying $25 for a one mile ride was giving me palpitations. Off I set into the cold, breezy night. I made a couple of wrong turns and had a moment where I thought I, or one or more pieces of luggage would end up in the lake.