Christchurch Entry

Having spent three hours drooling sexily onto my neck-cushion, I awoke to find a coastline of chilly, snaking beaches rushing past my porthole. The view expanded to reveal a cluster of grey mountains, their summits dusted in icing sugar. Progressing further inland, the portholes of both wings filled with the fabled Long White Cloud, a sky-consuming phenomenon that at times resembled poorly rendered CGI mountainscapes and early Hollywood fog. When at last the plane ducked under the overcast, the mountains had given way to quilts of farmland.

Here is a picture of Gate 10.