Kiwi Thoughts

- I was only able to see a fraction of the North Island. It amuses me greatly thinking of the substantial fraction of folks back home who think I'm crazy, mid-life crisis, etc. for taking such a long trip whereas fellow travelers here so far lovingly deride me for moving too quick. Such different worldviews, and I'm adrift in between.

- Can I say "mate"? That's the most pressing question for this section of my voyage. Does it sound forced? Is there a waiting period for foreigners? Do I have to stick to calling people man or dude?

- The scenery consistently stuns. They have this seismic zone which created these rolling green hills south of Auckland. There's hardly any brush on them, making the hills appear like emerald carpets. Very similar to the movie Toys starring LL Cool J. As a bonus, wee little newborn lambs are everywhere in early Spring. Makes me want to gobble one up and recreate a Jesus painting. If only my hair would grow faster.

- The exchange rate is favorable here in theory, about 0.82 NZD to the USD. But shit is still expensive! Tourism has become the overwhelming #1 industry here but man do they make tourists poney up. $90 for my unguided 4 hour kayak trip w/ short transport. $35 to enter the small Waiotapu landscape. $8 for an hour of internet in 2012 (don't get me started). Somewhere there's a dockworker in Auckland sitting around, "We use to make shit in this country. Build shit. Now we just stick our hands in the next guy's pocket." Frank Sobodtka feels me.

In the words of Aaron Yates' psycho girlfriend, "Fuck. That."

- Your typical Kiwi so far in this part of NZ is fascinating. A dash of Pacific Northwest weekend warrior, a scoop of South Side Irish blue collar, mixed in with hints of skater culture. For instance, I've heard Fred Durst songs three times too many since I've been here. "Stereotypes: a real time saver."

- Still can't fully make sense of my flight deal. Forced to call NZ Air (from payphone 20ft from their frickin help desk at Auckland International no less) to try to make two little changes to my itinerary. Flustered the shit out of the rep I got, and then tried to charge me in two different currencies. Called Virgin Atlantic who was slightly more helpful but still charged me far more than they originally led me to believe. Might have to stick to my original dates/locations more so now. The Great Escapade's still an amazing deal, just check with me in a month or two before booking :) We'll see how it goes.

- Favorite random moment so far: while taking this admittedly girly shot, Chinese tourist seemed to be shooing me away in order to take a similar pic. "Your world lady, I'm just taking pictures in it." But turns out she wanted a picture WITH me. Haha, no idea what that was about.

 - I just now caught up with my credit card here in Christchurch. Long story, but whoever somehow defrauded my card for a wild South Carolina roadtrip to Walgreens, Walmart, and Mickey D's (2x in one day!), right before I left for a 3 month international trip, well, insert Liam Neeson's speech from Taken. Thanks to Pat D. for dealing swiftly with FedEx.

- Not giving up hope for either team yet, but it appears I picked a good year to miss most of football season. Ugh. And way to win when it no longer matters, again, in September Royals. So glad Bill Self exists!

- I need to step-up my Lord of the Rings nerdom. Skipped Hobbiton. Only saw Mt. Doom from a distance. We'll see if South Island offers a bite.

-They seem to think Americans are coffee wusses here. They look shocked when I don't order Americano, and then offer me a vessel of hot water on the side. Every time!

- I have yet to hear any modern music or distinctly New Zealand music playing at bars, hotels, etc. here. A lot of Cranberries, 4 Non-Blondes, etc. though! Very odd.

- The rate of brochure accumulation I've got going is astounding. You're offered so much information here. Tourism's really done right. They have these I-site centers in most cities and will help you with whatever you need. A wonderful experience thus far.

- Time to go. I've spent far too much time at the Christchurch Public Library getting this blog out. Much like Chicago, the internet row at the public library here is a sad, sad place. See you soon!

New Zealand North

Kia ora folks! I just wrapped up my all too quick tour of the North Island of New Zealand. This country is truly a playground. Every town inundates you with choices. Here's my relatively tame rundown of my activities so far. South Island might get crazier.

AUCKLAND

Auckland is Seattle-lite, amazingly so (minus the bench-offs). From the steady supply of coffee, rain, and Asians, right down to the "huge hypodermic needle giving the sky a fix." I found that a strange description, but I digress. I stayed in the Ponsonby neighborhood up on a hill with great little shops and cafes lining the main boulevard. Dead ringer for the Ballard or Queen Anne neighborhoods of Seattle. I've been lucky enough to visit my friends in Seattle several times and even almost went to grad school there, so needless to say, I also loved Auckland, the City of Sails.

The only notable activity I pursued there was the ferry and hike to the top of a little volcanic island, Rangitoto. It was a beautiful hike, though the ferry schedule was a bit rushed (running to catch the last ferry is VERY Seattle from my experience).

On the top deck of the ferry, I met Melissa and Angela from LA. We were the three cool/dumb enough to brave the insane wind up top. Ended up having a few beers and dinner with them afterwards. Angela's "Bob Saget fucking rocked America's Funniest Home Videos" statement pretty much sums up our Mensa-worthy seven hours of conversation. They were great.

ROTORUA

Rotorua apparently has earned the nickname RotoVegas. This does not vibe with my eerily quiet experience wandering the city centre and the quaint, block long night market. Many people visit Rotorua also as a hub of Maori culture. I went there to Zorb.

Zorbing has been a prominent, if not low-hanging fruit on my tree of life's goals since I learned it existed over a decade ago. I found myself drawn to the thrill and the absurdity. Ben and I attempted to tackle it in Slovenia, but we were mysteriously thwarted by the whims of their schedule. So it WAS happening here. I could lie and say the payoff was everything I dreamed of, but as I somersaulted end over end down a less impressive hill than I imagined, I found myself guffawing half because it was "weeeeee!", but half because it was ridiculous. Only place I've lost $45 quicker is on a blackjack table. A ton of fun but the operation here, the original no less, honestly seemed to lack heart. Dare I say, Zorb has gotten too corporate, haha.

This central area of the North island also serves as a geothermal hotspot (I never intend puns). I took a shuttle to Wai-o-tapu and wandered around the volcanically active grounds. Very pretty, though I've been spoiled by Yellowstone. They even had a geyser that went off every morning at 10:15 AM. Wow that's precise! Imagine my "seriously?" face when I discovered the reason, the ranger induced it with a drop of special chemical pellets! Still cool.

The setting also lends itself to a plethora of thermal hot springs choices. After some solid hikes, I figured I could use a good soak. Polynesian Spa, a stones throw from my place, proclaimed itself a "Top Ten World Spa". The setting was gorgeous, though diminished slightly by the untimely exodus of a platoon of cute Australian girls as I entered the parking lot. Classic luck. So I shared the 5 adult pools with wave after wave of Japanese tourists instead. Almost took an amazing photo of me as Waldo in the sea of the rising sun, but a few white people got in and ruined it.

TAUPO

Lake Taupo is, according to the dude who rented me a kayak, the largest lake in "Australasia" (new land mass to me, not sure what it includes but I'm certain there's a larger lake in Siberia). My first day I rowed my ass 8km out to some Maori carvings only accessible by water. I pretended like they weren't modern creations to enhance the experience even further. The carvings tell the story of Ngatoroirangi, the great Maori navigator who led his people to NZ and then further insisted they seek the great inland sea from his visions. Apparently he made them bypass Lake Rotorua, big itself, because it did not match his vision. Made for an incredible day on as gorgeous and clear a lake as I've had the pleasure to see.

These guys followed me everywhere!

The next day I planned to hike the "pregnant lady". The base of the trail is deceivingly far from town (shitty map). At one point I'm walking along a highway. 200 yards up a van pulling onto the highway stops. Mind you I was not actively seeking a ride and this struck me as a little eager. As I pass this guy, he rolls down the window and offers me a ride. Probably the nicest guy in the world, but he rocked a skullet, looked like Dwight Yoakam, and had a soiled mattress in the back. In sort of a reverse Dumb and Dumber situation, I went with my instincts on this one and did NOT saddle up partner. As he drove off, I thought, "that is a good idea though" and hitched a ride the rest of the way to the trail and then back into town, haha!

The hike afforded incredible views across the lake to Mount Tongariro and Mt. Ngauruhoe (aka Mt. Doom from Lord of the Rings). Original intention was to do the Tongariro crossing, supposedly one of the preeminent one day hikes in the world. Problem being, the active volcano freaking exploded a month or two ago, blocking sections of an already challenging (for winter/spring) trail. The pregnant lady summit more than sufficed for now.

I had to switch my hotel my final night to what turned out to be a quite rowdy one. A pack of young boys manned the stairwells asking/guessing where people were from while pointing suction cup-shooting toy guns at you. I grabbed one, shot a kid, and said "America". They seemed to enjoy that. They then warned me there was a "drunk person" upstairs. Sure enough, an Australian soon-to-be groom paced the hall in a nightgown looking to get into a room so he could flash his stag party buddies sitting at a bar across the street. I sighed and unlocked my door. "Make it quick."

My final day included a simple hike to Huka Falls and then a bus back to Auckland to catch my flight to Christchurch. Tentative plans for the South Island include whale watching, glacier viewing, jet boats down a canyon, and possibly my friend Ashley and I skydiving or at least bungee jumping in Queenstown, the birthplace of bungee. Will report on it in a week or so! Cheers.

Strenuous Relaxation

"Listen, we are here on Earth to fart around, don't let anybody tell you different." - Kurt Vonnegut

That quote above was to be the inspiration for the next five days of my trip. I knew nothing about Rarotonga in the Cook Islands. I was stopping there because I could. This leg was intended to be the calm before the storm, five days relaxing on the beach before proceeding to the hiking and extreme sports and commotion of New Zealand. While plenty of hours were spent simply lying on a beach observing sunsets, stars, and cloud Rorschachs (mainly dinosaurs and elderly Samurai faces), Rarotonga certainly packed more of a punch than I anticipated.

Day 1

Thought I'd start by getting the lay of the land. Checked out the beach 75 yards from our hostel, which was terrific, but decided to walk the shoreline to Muri Beach, the crown jewel. 12 km away, pssht, I hiked the Great Glen Way, I can do that. What I hadn't counted on was the tendency to use slightly different foot muscles than you're used to when walking barefoot on sand that long. Basically had two sprained feet, but hobbled back anyway since the lone clockwise bus exuded the concept of "island time". 24 km walk on first day on a tropical island? I'm a six letter possibly offensive r-word.

My brutal Croatia towel.

The beach was worth it though. I swam probably 100 yards off shore using my new nerdy goggles to see the reef. The beach near my place was actually best for this. Parrot fish and several other neon colored little guys were everywhere. Saw a squid, a flounder type thing, and some pretty coral as well. As a Kansan, still a bit wary of that setting though. The fish were extremely friendly/curious. "Whoa, whoa guys. Getting a little close." I blame my dad for trolling us growing up with stories of the "toe fish" waiting to snip us in the lake. I also need some reef shoes. Did not want to put my bare feet down on urchins or the ubiquitous turd shaped sea slugs, so I ended up treading water for the better part of that hour. Needless to say an exhausting but rewarding first day.

Even sleep would prove to not be as relaxing as perhaps hoped. That is to say I woke up early each day. Coconuts falling on the metal roof, the old British couple's whistling tea kettle, and roosters who wouldn't shut their face had a daily competition to see who could rouse me from slumber. Even when I dosed on the sand, a stealthy beach dog would come out of no where, lick my face, and run off again.

Day 2

I surely sound like a feeble wuss, but my foot was truly messed up, so I thought today I'd bicycle around the entire island. I chose "push bike" over "bike" (aka moped - the en vogue mode of transport there) to get some exercise and save some money. Mistake! The gear options were "murder me" or "accomplish nothing" with no goldilocks setting in between and the seat was made of some sort of ass bone destroying titanium alloy. The 32km loop kicked my butt. Luckily whenever I got exhausted I simply pulled over and swam or laid on the beach!

Day 3

Day three I went into the main town, Avarua. Caught the bus and was introduced to the driver of the year. 

"Hello, my name is Mr. Hopeless, welcome to your nightmare. Some bus driver hit that fence (as we drove by an impressively dented fence at one of the resorts). Hope it wasn't me (maniacal giggle)."

Sadly, I laughed at all of his jokes as other riders tried to pretend they were deaf. Town consisted mainly of souvenir shops and moped rental agencies. Spoke with locals who informed me I just missed Hillary Clinton, in town the week or two before for a Pacific Summit. Americans might be rare there. I certainly didnt come across any. 

I found a good spot for lunch and then strolled the market. Apparently it only really bustles on Saturdays, the one day I would not be there. Not a big loss though. Prices were pretty crazy. $40 for cookie-cutter trinkets.

Well this is awkward.

That night, a "few beers" turned into a bar-organized 4 team mini golf scramble. My team won, possibly due to some fuzzy math, and as winners were "rewarded" with shots and beer bongs. Solid night.

Day 4

I of course followed a night of heavy drinking with the big cross-island hike. I intended to go Day 2 with two dudes from my hostel but my foot would have made it a chore. They somehow ended up getting lost for three hours in the jungle and returned the way they came in. Looked like my tracker skills would be needed again (Shut up Lambert, you know it's true).

The trek was legit. Trudged vertically up a ladder of roots more or less until I reached The Needle. At it's base sits a sign which says, "Trail ends here. If you go further, think really hard before doing so." 

I peered up the rock face which had a series of chains and ropes embedded into it. Ooh, that looks fun. Got to a ledge with a sheer 100ft drop and could do nothing but flatten down and brace myself as the impressive winds raced up the incline. Thought I was cool for making it to the top and then as I rolled over to start back down, my eye caught another rope, this time with foot loops, going straight vertical in a slight crevasse of the cliff. Stared at it for a good 5 minutes pondering my current level of insanity and waffling on the decision. I maturely decided against it, blaming the absurdly windy day for my wussitude.

Haven't had a haircut since Scotland.

As I maneuvered back down, a young couple approached the sign. The guy asked me if it was worth it. After I confirmed his suspicion he said, "What about you, honey?" to which his wife shot him a death glare and astutely proclaimed, "I'm not dying on bloody Rarotonga". Her loss.

The journey down and across the other side of the island was actually more tenuous. Steep and slick, I almost bit it a dozen times, usually grabbing a tree or vine like some sort of imposter Tarzan to catch my fall. Turned out to be a wonderful afternoon though. 

Day 5

I planned to get in over my head on a kayak for a change on this, my last day. But the weather would not allow it. Poured all day. Spent the majority of the day stretched out in a hammock reading or listening to my random podcasts (e.g. "How do totem poles work").

That night, as the rain pounded down, I simply sat and drank Tui beers with a German, Brit, Australian, Canadian, and Rarotongan (Tisa, basically our house mother). They wanted to know all about the U.S. Election, haha, what have you set in motion!? My omnibus oration skewed into the pitfalls of the Electoral College and the incestuous relationship between Goldman Sachs and the SEC, among other things, but we had a great time. Swapping stories and world views with fellow nomads is perhaps the best part of traveling.

So there you have it. Rarotonga had postcard-perfect beaches, night stars like I've never seen before, and incredibly warm, funny people. The lazy lifestyle I sought existed in spades there. I achieved it for the most part, but added some beginning-to-seem-routine misadventures for good measure. We'll see if that trend continues as I set sail for Auckland. 

UFO fer dayz.