I used to think I understood the International Date Line perfectly. Now I am having a hard job getting my head around the concept…

Late on 4th March, I’d taken my seat on the Boeing 747 which then took off on schedule just after midnight, heading directly south towards Rio Gallegos. Yes! I had to visit Rio Gallegos yet again, even though I never had any interest in the place, and don’t expect to have any in the future. But without refueling there, the jumbo couldn’t carry quite enough fuel to safely fly across the Southern Ocean against the prevailing winds to reach Auckland. Accordingly, after 3 hours of intermittent sleep, the plane landed there.

It should have been a brief stop to top up the tanks, but after a while they told us we all had to get off the plane. They didn’t explain why. It was 4 am, cold and dark, there was no jetway, and a lot of people were grumbling as we all traipsed obediently down the steps and across the tarmac. Having been in the Rio Gallegos terminal before, I figured that it would become very crowded with a jumbo-full of people, and it did! We all waited around, most people standing, or sitting on the floor. Someone said they’d heard a rumour that a lot of luggage had been seen being removed from the plane!

Eventually, after another 2 hours, Aerolineas Argentinas admitted what had happened. Drugs had been found in a suitcase at Ezeiza, but its owner was travelling with other people and they wanted a chance to check all the luggage before alerting the first suspect, in case there needed to be multiple arrests. So they had to get special agents to come and do that at Rio Gallegos. Apparently they didn’t find any more drugs, so at 7 am we traipsed back to the jumbo and climbed the stairs again. The sun was just about to rise..

The journey resumed, with the low sun now streaming in through my window as the plane turned south west. I worked out that the delay would mean arriving in Auckland around midday, which wasn’t a big problem.

When they weren’t showing films, there was a map displayed in the plane to show where we were! This was amazing – I have never seen anything like this before. Hopefully it will catch on. I heard someone say it is called “GPS” – I don’t know what “GPS” stands for, or how the system can determine the plane’s position so far from land.

Not only did it show the position but it also reported distance to go, altitude, temperature, speed… and distance from the South Pole! I watched as that distance got less and less – it levelled off at 1916 miles and then started increasing as we slowly turned north west. The temperature was -58 C. Distance to the coast of Antarctica was a little over 700 miles – 1100 km.

There was plenty of light the whole way, but cloud prevented a view of the ocean far below.

The screen showed that we would soon be crossing the International Date Line. I looked out of the window when we crossed it, but nothing happened at all – it was just the same long morning that it was when I took off from Rio Gallegos.

It was just after 11 am when we touched down in Auckland. Immigration was easy, but I was singled out by a young customs lady with what I took to be Maori features, who spent 20 minutes taking my luggage apart and meticulously digging into all sorts of corners and items that I wouldn’t have thought were worth bothering about. Though polite, she seemed determined to find something… but of course she didn’t.

The first thing I did was to ring the number that Rachel had given me when she said goodbye in Bolivia – she had promised to warn her family that I might call on 6th March to take them up on the offer of accommodation that she had made on their behalf! I spoke to Rachel’s mother, Roz, and she told me it was all fine, and to catch a bus to Epsom, the district where they live. She was very welcoming and give me some lunch. I was keen to check my poste restante mail having received so little in Buenos Aires so Roz gave me a ride into the centre of Auckland.

After collecting some mail, I got a map of New Zealand and a guide book, and went for a wander to try to get used to where I now was. This was not Argentina! The centre of Auckland looked a little like suburbs I’d seen in the USA but with everything on a smaller scale. Some buildings reminded me of the UK. Many adjectives came to mind to describe how New Zealand felt after 4 months in Latin America: clean, tidy, low energy, peaceful… maybe even boring in some ways?.. but maybe I wasn’t being fair to a country I’d only just arrived in.

I got a bus back to Epsom and met Rachel’s siblings, Hamish and Catherine. I was pretty tired and after some food, I excused myself and by 9 pm was fast asleep.

Fifteen and a half hours later, I woke up! It was gone midday on 7th March, and Fiona, the eldest of the siblings, was in the house. She gave me a ride to a slide processing lab where, after taking 2 photos of the street nearby to finish the current film, I got the latest 5 films processed.

I then packed up a parcel containing my South American guide and map and the processed films, and sent it surface mail to the UK.

I had a look for a decent shirt to buy, since I didn’t want a repeat of the feeling of being scruffy, that I’d felt in Buenos Aires when going out in the evening. Later, Fiona took me for an early evening tour of Auckland. After an evening meal back at the house, I decided to bring my diary up to date and then realised I have a little problem that I just can’t seem to get my head around.

My diary has 3 days to each page. The section for 4th March was already filled in with my last day in Buenos Aires. Today, 7th March, I was in Auckland all day. Yesterday started on a jumbo – the sun rose in Rio Gallegos and after a long morning on the plane I spent that afternoon in Auckland. That day obviously had to go in the section labelled “6th March” being the day before today.

The space labelled 5th March was still empty. What did I do that day? My bus trip out to Ezeiza was described at the end of 4th March, and taking off from Ezeiza was already described on 6th March (yesterday). I stared stupidly at the blank space labelled 5th March. I couldn’t just leave it blank… I must have done something on 5th March…right? I mean, almost every one else on the planet did something that day…

But the more I think about it from the point of view of the diary, the more confused I am, to the point where I’m not even sure I existed on 5th March. So I have decided to write down that philosophical question, and hope that it might one day be answered by someone who reads it.