Current Location: floating in the matter left behind by my mind exploding in the depths of Doubtful Sound. Now, back in Queenstown for a couple of days.
Sandfly bites are mosquito bites on steroids. Small but potent, I have bites on my ankles that keep me awake at night. Oh, they suck!
There is a girl talking on Skype about "kinky dancers" and "pancakes." Shssh!
8 days ago ...
-----------------------
9/22/10
Kaikoura.
I got up early and ran to the mountains. They seemed much closer than they actually are. I made it as far as a pasture full of sheep. The mountains never got any closer.
I love running. It keeps me sane for about 5 or 6 days a week. I also bike almost everyday and walk almost everywhere. While we've had some challenging days on this trip, there have been many that have involved little physical exercise [mental exercise is a whole other discussion]. It's taking its toll. I feel like a bar of chocolate, so so good and so so not so good.
Anyway,
Denise and I walk through town, along the shore, and out to the seal colony. There are no seals but it doesn't matter because I can't stop looking at the mountains.
Back on the train. The last train ride ended with a pounding headache and numb feet. This time I only let myself stay outside for short periods of time. Learning.
When the train passes sheep and/or cows -- which is often -- the animals sprint away. It's cute. And since it's springtime, it's extra cute because of all the little lambs. CUTE!
About 5km outside of Christchurch we slow to a roll. Because of the earthquake and damage to the tracks, the train can only go about 10km/hr. Or something painful like that. Over the loudspeaker the conductor talks about the impact of the earthquake on the towns we are passing through. I feel uncomfortable taking pictures, an uneasiness emphasized by our speed.
I put my camera down and wave to people as we pass by.
9/23/10
Happy birthday big bird brother. 33.
Everyday I see an orange bird. And everyday I wait with anticipation for its appearance. Always unpredictable but always there. Perched on my path, it lingers on my way. We talk, but these are stories without words.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
ADATA
I finally found a card reader on a computer that takes coins. I have fed it many coins. These are some random unedited photographs. The computer moves too slow + no editing software. Clicked on some icons and a few hours later, here!:
Paihia, NZ
Cape Reinga, NZ
Manghaerei Heads, NZ
Rotorua, NZ
Ferry, Wellington - Picton
Kaikoura, NZ
Picton, NZ
Queenstown, NZ
180
Current Location: Te Anau, NZ
In Fiordland. Milford Sound. Doubtful Sound.
Glaciers and snow and waterfalls and avalanches.
I am tired. In a good way.
Back to days past:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
9/20/10
Winging it.
These days, the first thing we do in a new town is find the I-Site. From I-Site Picton, I left with a map of I-Sites around the country and a walking map of the city. I am the map-keeper.
Denise is all like, whatever.
So I'm all like, this way.
We climb over a perfectly arched pedestrian bridge towards Upper Bob's Way. I no longer trust the estimated time/distance/difficulty for any walk. We were told 3hr return. Does that account for torrential rain?
Greens are bisected by blues as the trail negotiates forest and ocean views. The grey lifts and settles; I take off and put on layers.
We meet up with Snout Track leading us further out onto the peninsula. After a long climb, we pause under a few trees, put our rain gear back on, and have a snack. I have been eating a lot of almonds on this trip.
For a country that is all about being EXTREME, that I can't find a vegan protein/energy/candy bar is puzzling to me. Even non-vegan bars are a rare find. It's all about granola and muesli bars. For example: before you throw yourself off a bridge, you can get amped up with a bright red power drink. Afterwards, when you get hungry from being EXTREME, you can have a granola bar. Wimpy. Clif Bar Co., where are you?
As usual, the hike is much longer than expected. We finally hit the top of a hill, marking a break in the track, and stop to take photos. Jumping off the bench and pretending to soar through the air -- it's fun to take pictures.
I hear giggles and turn around to see two girls approaching on the trail. Oh! It's Nele and Xena, our blonde German friends from Waitomo. Strrrrange.
9/20/10
Winging it.
These days, the first thing we do in a new town is find the I-Site. From I-Site Picton, I left with a map of I-Sites around the country and a walking map of the city. I am the map-keeper.
Denise is all like, whatever.
So I'm all like, this way.
We climb over a perfectly arched pedestrian bridge towards Upper Bob's Way. I no longer trust the estimated time/distance/difficulty for any walk. We were told 3hr return. Does that account for torrential rain?
Greens are bisected by blues as the trail negotiates forest and ocean views. The grey lifts and settles; I take off and put on layers.
We meet up with Snout Track leading us further out onto the peninsula. After a long climb, we pause under a few trees, put our rain gear back on, and have a snack. I have been eating a lot of almonds on this trip.
For a country that is all about being EXTREME, that I can't find a vegan protein/energy/candy bar is puzzling to me. Even non-vegan bars are a rare find. It's all about granola and muesli bars. For example: before you throw yourself off a bridge, you can get amped up with a bright red power drink. Afterwards, when you get hungry from being EXTREME, you can have a granola bar. Wimpy. Clif Bar Co., where are you?
As usual, the hike is much longer than expected. We finally hit the top of a hill, marking a break in the track, and stop to take photos. Jumping off the bench and pretending to soar through the air -- it's fun to take pictures.
I hear giggles and turn around to see two girls approaching on the trail. Oh! It's Nele and Xena, our blonde German friends from Waitomo. Strrrrange.
-----
With all the seeds that have been planted I can grow a forest. The more I hear about people's travels, the more I want that too. Kid in an Oceanic candy shop.
-----
The hike goes on for about five hours. On our walk back, we see a full rainbow over the valley. I always jump up and down with excitement when I see a rainbow. I can't help myself.
We take Lower Bob's Way on the return, bringing us down to the water. The shoreline is littered with pink, purple, and blue shells. I pick up every single sparkling one but have to stop myself from selfishly eroding the entire coast.
The sun is out.
There's a bench.
I sit.
There's a seal!
We walk to the grocery store and get some things for a proper dinner. Veggies!
Sorry. I think they value fish more than vegetables in this town 'cause, eh. I admit it though, I am a fruit and vegetable snob.
After we cook a dinner to make all the other guests jealous, we open our map and start talking about the rest of the trip.
I get sidetracked talking to Anna from Wisconsin who has been traveling by herself for months and is heading south to bike the island. Crazy! Cool!
Then I get sidetracked eating chocolate. We put the map away.
9/21/10
In my normal life, I suck at sleeping. In my New Zealand life, I also suck at sleeping.
We get ready to leave Picton but have no destination.
Potential itinerary 1: rent car, drive towards Abel Tasman.
Potential itinerary 2: take the Tranzcoastal train south.
It's a sunny morning. As we walk down the hill into town, I'm feeling like it's a train kind of day.
Denise agrees.
We purchase a ticket to Kiakoura and then to Christchurch. The I-Site lady helps us find a place to stay and makes arrangements for us to pick up a campervan in Christchurch (hindsight: bad idea). Their computers are running slow. Seriously. I've got a train to catch!
After bringing our bags to the luggage car, we line up to board the train.
Fight!!!
An old woman is yelling at the train dude, accusing him of using "salty" language.
The train dude says he wasn't talking to her.
It's still "inappropriate," she says.
He told her to mind her own business ... blah blah blah ... Then he called her a 'stodgy old bitch' or something like that.
I am learning that the cold cold wind sucks bad but I refuse to let it interfere with my trip. Of course, there are limits to that. Hail storms, avalanches -- that kind of thing. But standing in the open air viewing car was beautiful fun.
The hostel in Kiakoura is fine. But the scenery! Holy mother of mountains, this is awesome! Snow capped mountains are practically sitting in the Pacific Ocean. It's completely captivating.
At night, we walk down to the beach. There is an enormous halo around the moon -- it takes up almost the entire sky. I am in a science fiction movie and I just woke up on a planet far far away.
Then I get sidetracked eating chocolate. We put the map away.
9/21/10
In my normal life, I suck at sleeping. In my New Zealand life, I also suck at sleeping.
We get ready to leave Picton but have no destination.
Potential itinerary 1: rent car, drive towards Abel Tasman.
Potential itinerary 2: take the Tranzcoastal train south.
It's a sunny morning. As we walk down the hill into town, I'm feeling like it's a train kind of day.
Denise agrees.
We purchase a ticket to Kiakoura and then to Christchurch. The I-Site lady helps us find a place to stay and makes arrangements for us to pick up a campervan in Christchurch (hindsight: bad idea). Their computers are running slow. Seriously. I've got a train to catch!
After bringing our bags to the luggage car, we line up to board the train.
Fight!!!
An old woman is yelling at the train dude, accusing him of using "salty" language.
The train dude says he wasn't talking to her.
It's still "inappropriate," she says.
He told her to mind her own business ... blah blah blah ... Then he called her a 'stodgy old bitch' or something like that.
I am learning that the cold cold wind sucks bad but I refuse to let it interfere with my trip. Of course, there are limits to that. Hail storms, avalanches -- that kind of thing. But standing in the open air viewing car was beautiful fun.
The hostel in Kiakoura is fine. But the scenery! Holy mother of mountains, this is awesome! Snow capped mountains are practically sitting in the Pacific Ocean. It's completely captivating.
At night, we walk down to the beach. There is an enormous halo around the moon -- it takes up almost the entire sky. I am in a science fiction movie and I just woke up on a planet far far away.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Windy Wellington
I think this post skips a couple of days from the last ...Unicorns flying over rainbows. No big deal.
Current Location: Queenstown, NZ
cold + rain + snowy mountains + pretty
-------------------------------------------------------------------
So this already happened ...
The highway into Wellington runs adjacent to the water but nighttime blocks the view. I swear that's foam on the road, knocked up from crashing waves, but ... that would mean ... how close is the water?
Our good friend GPS could not locate our hotel at 355 Willis. She directs us into a new city, throws us down one ways, hills, construction detours, and then gets us lost. If a street dead ends, can you please post a sign? Somewhere?
There are two Mercures in town and we drove to the wrong one first. Conveniently, the right one is around the block.
"And you requested a king size bed..." No, no way.
A twin. Two beds. Separate.
'Well, we can split the king bed for you.' Huh? This is where the conversation stops making sense; or, this is where the problem could have been explained in ten short seconds but was not. I give up. And for our frustration we are upgraded to a suite. Denise and I bring all our stuff upstairs.
Um. Denise brings all our stuff upstairs. I'm broken.
Suite? How very not. I don't wonder what a standard room is like. The 2nd floor fire exit leads to a balcony squeezed into an awkward, tiny space behind four buildings.
The bed still has to be ripped apart. Junior (Denise named him), the front desk guy, is at the door. There is no housekeeping at night and he's here to get things done. It takes him awhile though and he makes the beds really poorly. Awwdamn! Getting into a perfectly made hotel bed is half the fun!
Junior is chatty. So we chat. In case you wanted to know, he's from New Delhi and moved to NZ when he was 20. Then he lived and went to school in New Plymouth*, "a town for old retired people."
* when I got us lost on the drive from Waitomo to Rotorua by way of the Tasman Sea, we ended up just outside of New Plymouth. Don't look that up on a map; I was having a bad day.
Our good friend GPS could not locate our hotel at 355 Willis. She directs us into a new city, throws us down one ways, hills, construction detours, and then gets us lost. If a street dead ends, can you please post a sign? Somewhere?
There are two Mercures in town and we drove to the wrong one first. Conveniently, the right one is around the block.
"And you requested a king size bed..." No, no way.
A twin. Two beds. Separate.
'Well, we can split the king bed for you.' Huh? This is where the conversation stops making sense; or, this is where the problem could have been explained in ten short seconds but was not. I give up. And for our frustration we are upgraded to a suite. Denise and I bring all our stuff upstairs.
Um. Denise brings all our stuff upstairs. I'm broken.
Suite? How very not. I don't wonder what a standard room is like. The 2nd floor fire exit leads to a balcony squeezed into an awkward, tiny space behind four buildings.
The bed still has to be ripped apart. Junior (Denise named him), the front desk guy, is at the door. There is no housekeeping at night and he's here to get things done. It takes him awhile though and he makes the beds really poorly. Awwdamn! Getting into a perfectly made hotel bed is half the fun!
Junior is chatty. So we chat. In case you wanted to know, he's from New Delhi and moved to NZ when he was 20. Then he lived and went to school in New Plymouth*, "a town for old retired people."
* when I got us lost on the drive from Waitomo to Rotorua by way of the Tasman Sea, we ended up just outside of New Plymouth. Don't look that up on a map; I was having a bad day.
Junior refused to believe that we weren't going to Australia as well. 'There is so much to see! More than in NZ! Warm! Beaches!' As much as I wanted him to shut up, my brain formulated a devious plan to change my return ticket and go to Australia. Baby koalas. Want.
It's 10pm.
We went in search of food on Cuba Street, an area described as artsy and bohemian. Really, it's dirty, sleazy, and loud. I keep trying to imagine what I would think of SF if I first arrived there at night. Dirty, sleazy, and loud.
The entire population is under 30. They must have banished old people to the countryside, probably an easy agreement for both parties.
There are definitely prostitutes on the corner. We'll see what the daylight brings.
I guess crossing my fingers and wishing on the brightest star does make the rain go away. The biggest storm in the world settled above NZ but a pocket of sunshine is protecting Wellington.
We had a slow morning. Our new deal at the hotel comes with free breakfast and two cups of dark water, I mean, coffee.
We walk down by the waterfront. It's special and not. I've seen it before -- harbor city, boats, imports and exports, homes nested in the hills. I relish in the sunshine and listen to Kiwi english.
It's 10pm.
We went in search of food on Cuba Street, an area described as artsy and bohemian. Really, it's dirty, sleazy, and loud. I keep trying to imagine what I would think of SF if I first arrived there at night. Dirty, sleazy, and loud.
The entire population is under 30. They must have banished old people to the countryside, probably an easy agreement for both parties.
There are definitely prostitutes on the corner. We'll see what the daylight brings.
I guess crossing my fingers and wishing on the brightest star does make the rain go away. The biggest storm in the world settled above NZ but a pocket of sunshine is protecting Wellington.
We had a slow morning. Our new deal at the hotel comes with free breakfast and two cups of dark water, I mean, coffee.
We walk down by the waterfront. It's special and not. I've seen it before -- harbor city, boats, imports and exports, homes nested in the hills. I relish in the sunshine and listen to Kiwi english.
The Te Papa museum is a beautiful museum, not only because it's free but also because it's beautiful. As we enter the building, there are people hovering about watching a capoeira performance. Denise stays; I walk outside.
All I want to do is sit in the sun. I do. A runner goes by and some kids start jogging behind him. Someone is taking video.
That once happened to me.
The hipsters here tear the San Francisco and Brooklyn hipsters to shreds. The mix of American and European culture takes socially acceptable commercially acceptable urban punk rock to a fascinating extreme.
My skin is like sandpaper.
All I want to do is sit in the sun. I do. A runner goes by and some kids start jogging behind him. Someone is taking video.
That once happened to me.
The hipsters here tear the San Francisco and Brooklyn hipsters to shreds. The mix of American and European culture takes socially acceptable commercially acceptable urban punk rock to a fascinating extreme.
My skin is like sandpaper.
[9/19/10]
I finally get to go for a run. The weather is perfect, not even windy. There are lots of people exercising early Sunday morning-- I could be at the Embarcadero. There's even a farmers market. Stay left.
After dropping off our rental car, we grab a cab to the ferry. Final check in is 1:20. It's 1:16 and we are still in the car. Oh. Yeah. All is well.
After we board the ferry, I walk all over trying to get outside. I follow a woman and her daughter to the bow. She warns me it's going to get cold.
It does. Very.
For three hours I attached myself to the front railing of the ship. It's not just that the landscape is captivating, but the wind took my breath. The cold air roared through the hoods of my three jackets and shook my head from side to side in its wake. Standing up to nature when it is pounding down gives me a simple, singular focus. The wind is physically agitating and mentally stabilizing. This is also known as the best thing ever. The cold wind hurt my soul but it was worth every second. I couldn't warm up for hours. I think this is the beginning of me being cold all of the time.
Lynn, the owner of Tombstone hostel, meets us at the ferry. She gives us the tour of Picton and brings us to the hostel. It's called Tombstone because it's across from the graveyard. Can't spook me so whatcver. No exaggeration though -- this is one of the nicest places we have stayed all trip. I love you electric blanket!
There are two cats roaming around: Smooch and the deaf white one. There is also an older couple hanging out in the kitchen when we go to make dinner. I would guess they are in their late 70's ... And they are hilarious. The woman is wearing an apron, warming her bum by the fire while her husband walks over to do the dishes. She's got him trained for 50 years! We talk for awhile before Denise and I escape to the lounge for the last 45 minutes of Twilight [the movie, duh.]
Saturday, September 18, 2010
I'm A Computer
I'm on a computer that is moving as fast as old school dial up. At least the radio is playing the best of the oldies. Our plans are up in the air but that's the plan. The biggest storm in the world has taken up residence over every part of New Zealand. Wait and see.
I think its time to catch up and edit down: [if you ever want to read the full version or sit in front of a campfire and tell stories, let me know]
9/11/10
Last night we talked with Bryan about the best way to see Cape Reinga and 90 mile beach. We walked into the office like zombies, drained from a day of extreme hiking. I think Denise was already in her pajamas. Even though we wanted to travel to touristy places, they are not easily accessible by car.
Bryan told us to take a tour bus that leaves early in the morning and spend the day doing stuff ... something ... other things ... more stuff ... and we said yes.
We made it from Paihia to the Ancient Kauri Kingdom and Cafe with the "world famous 45,000 year old staircase" in good time. In fact, we arrived at the pick-up spot early. I couldn't find the staircase but I did see a bird crash into the window, trying to get outside from inside the store.
The Harrison's bus arrived, an old coach that reminded me of Shortline in New York. There are 16 of us on a bus for 60, the favorable imbalance of off season travel. Denise and I grab the back seats because they sit higher than the rest. The weather is miserable, rain and fog follow us the entire way. Dennis, the driver, shares every detail of every small town we drive through and those that we don't.
Cape Reinga is at the northern tip of New Zealand, where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean. According to Maori culture, this is the "place of leaping" for souls into the underworld. Dennis goes into the history and rituals, capturing all the air in the bus with his story. As he begins a Maori prayer for the dead, I realize I'm suffocating. I turn my focus to the endless white wall of fog. I imagine this to be the veil between dimensions; we are truly at the end of the world. The fog thickens and appears to solidify as we pull into the parking lot.
We have 45 minutes to explore. The weather is unlike anything I have ever experienced. The rain attacked from all directions -- the raindrops were pins stinging my face; the wind blew me to the side and the fog closed in on the path leaving a giant white nothing. There was no one at the lighthouse and I could barely see the ocean below. So I closed my eyes and faced the fury of nature. The discomfort of this moment felt appropriate -- I am alive. I turned around and walked away from the end of the world.
From Cape Reinga we head towards 90 Mile Beach, a legitimate highway but with major restrictions. Drive at your own risk. Don't get caught in high tide. If you get stuck in the sand, you will be washed away. We drive through the rising tide and the landscape changes abruptly from forest to sand. We pull into a stream and Dennis stops the bus. A stream. He jumps up and mumbles about dune riding ... Ohhhhhhh ...
What?
I jump out of the bus, grab a toboggan and turn to Dennis:
What?
Follow the footsteps when you go up and keep to the side when you go down. The other kids are already running up the ginormous dune, toboggans in tow. Halfway up the hill I realize the dune is much bigger than it appeared.
The first guy goes tumbling down.
Then the next guy.
I make it to the top and what the hell. It's raining and windy and I'm standing at the top of a sand dune in New Zealand. I jump on the toboggan and go, dragging my feet to slow me down from a bazillion miles/hr to a zillion miles/hr.
Soaking wet and covered in sand, my jeans found a whole new level of grossness. Relentless shivering makes the rest of the ride a condition of extremes: everything is perfect and everything is uncomfortable.
9/12/10
While not making plans is liberating and cool, it also gets kind of stressful. Hours and dollars disappear into the internets searching for what happens next. Without a place to stay, we pack up and get on the road south towards Auckland.
A quick stop at one of New Zealand's awesome I-Sites and we now have lodging in Auckland.
We drive the coastal route -- first to Langs Beach and then Manghaerei Heads. I've been talking up the Cliff Walk for days and hold my breath for good weather. As we pull into the parking lot we see what we see and race to get our gear together. The Pacific Coast is dotted with black sand that turns into rocks that turns into larger rocks that turns into islands that disappear into the horizon.
I sigh as I read the sign for the walk, directing us down the beach to its start but warning us of an impossible return in high tide.
What time is high tide? Right.
We alter our hike, walking the beach and climbing only the first thousand steps to the cliff top. The stairs take us through the brightest greens and blues, sheep on one side ocean on the other.
It's 8pm and restaurants are already closed in Auckland. Maybe a chocolate bar for dinner ... No! Wait! It's Wagamama! On the way back, we sidetrack for ice cream, chocolate and kiwi sorbet. Mmmm.
But then it starts to rain. My ice cream gets wet. The saddest ever.
9/13/10
Papatoetoe. Whatawhata. It's a driving day and another chance to butcher the name of every town we pass through. And laugh about it.
Things we wonder about:
Is it really that bad to pick up a hitchhiker carrying a surfboard when there is no water in sight?
How do cows stand on the side of a steep hill?
Why do all the cows face in the same direction?
Where are the unicorns?
Anna at I-Site in Auckland is amazing. She set us straight and turned our ??? to !!! Many fun things to come.
To Waitomo.
We arrive at our hostel -- Juno Hall -- located in the middle of nowhere. There are animals outside that I can't identify. I'm a city girl. Alpaca? Ostrich? I need one of those Farmer and The Dell sounds thing for kids. Or is it Old McDonald? Wood paneling and plaid sheets tie the room together. This isn't just rustic, this is roughing it. I make my eyes go fuzzy so that I see the colors not the details.
Using the Internet is better than sleep. But I was so busy updating my blog I failed to notice the huge pile of ants swarming around me ...
9/14/10
Bad day.
Today's entry has been edited to fit your screen.
Glowworms light up the caves and turn the world inside out: the night sky appears below the ground. Glowworms are really maggots. They live for about 11 months and only two days in their adult stage. Forever young and grossly stunning.
I went blackwater cave rafting. It's every fear packed into an inner tube sent down a river into the depths of a cave.
I don't want to talk about it.
I didn't get a chance to thank Monkey for saving me. Shock is silencing. I don't even know who pulled me from the water. Stuck in the caves though, he talked me through the rest of the trek. I know he does this stuff everyday but it's not everyday that I almost drowned.
Thank you.
9/15/10
Rotorua stinks!
It really does.
Sulfur.
One of my most favorite things about the trip so far is that I am always surprised. It is impossible to begin to imagine anything that we sign ourselves up for. It's like everyday is my birthday so everyday I get a present. Today was no exception.
When we arrive at the Zorb place, we see Phil and Rachel who we met blackwater rafting.
"How's your head?"
"I'm fine, thanks." I am fine. Mostly.
They are traveling north and we are traveling south. After exchanging NZ tips, Denise and I change into our bathing suits. It's cold but the sun is warm. We hop in the back of a van and BUMP BUMP BUMP to the top of the hill. Geeeez.
Zydroing is like zorbing except with water. It's also better for people who get sick when flipped over and over at accelerating rates. = Me. When you zorb you are strapped in and roll down the hill with the ball. When you Zydro, the water keeps you from flipping when you roll down the hill with the ball.
The water goes in. Then we slide in through a small opening in the giant plastic ball. Then we roll the hell down a mountain. WOW!
OMG. WTF. ER.
9/16/10
Because I broke my body, Denise and I decide to stay in Rotorua one more day. After we move from our fancy pants hotel to another not so fancy pants hotel down the street, it's a slow day.
When in Rotorua ...
We drive out to Waimangu Volcanic Valley and take an hour long walk through the newest geothermal area in the world. The rain is on and off but the colors stay unreal. It's like a rainbow melted all over the landscape. New Zealand is the Land of Rainbows.
Everyone is talking about the bad weather. And our plans change like the wind. Again.
I think its time to catch up and edit down: [if you ever want to read the full version or sit in front of a campfire and tell stories, let me know]
9/11/10
Last night we talked with Bryan about the best way to see Cape Reinga and 90 mile beach. We walked into the office like zombies, drained from a day of extreme hiking. I think Denise was already in her pajamas. Even though we wanted to travel to touristy places, they are not easily accessible by car.
Bryan told us to take a tour bus that leaves early in the morning and spend the day doing stuff ... something ... other things ... more stuff ... and we said yes.
We made it from Paihia to the Ancient Kauri Kingdom and Cafe with the "world famous 45,000 year old staircase" in good time. In fact, we arrived at the pick-up spot early. I couldn't find the staircase but I did see a bird crash into the window, trying to get outside from inside the store.
The Harrison's bus arrived, an old coach that reminded me of Shortline in New York. There are 16 of us on a bus for 60, the favorable imbalance of off season travel. Denise and I grab the back seats because they sit higher than the rest. The weather is miserable, rain and fog follow us the entire way. Dennis, the driver, shares every detail of every small town we drive through and those that we don't.
Cape Reinga is at the northern tip of New Zealand, where the Tasman Sea meets the Pacific Ocean. According to Maori culture, this is the "place of leaping" for souls into the underworld. Dennis goes into the history and rituals, capturing all the air in the bus with his story. As he begins a Maori prayer for the dead, I realize I'm suffocating. I turn my focus to the endless white wall of fog. I imagine this to be the veil between dimensions; we are truly at the end of the world. The fog thickens and appears to solidify as we pull into the parking lot.
We have 45 minutes to explore. The weather is unlike anything I have ever experienced. The rain attacked from all directions -- the raindrops were pins stinging my face; the wind blew me to the side and the fog closed in on the path leaving a giant white nothing. There was no one at the lighthouse and I could barely see the ocean below. So I closed my eyes and faced the fury of nature. The discomfort of this moment felt appropriate -- I am alive. I turned around and walked away from the end of the world.
From Cape Reinga we head towards 90 Mile Beach, a legitimate highway but with major restrictions. Drive at your own risk. Don't get caught in high tide. If you get stuck in the sand, you will be washed away. We drive through the rising tide and the landscape changes abruptly from forest to sand. We pull into a stream and Dennis stops the bus. A stream. He jumps up and mumbles about dune riding ... Ohhhhhhh ...
What?
I jump out of the bus, grab a toboggan and turn to Dennis:
What?
Follow the footsteps when you go up and keep to the side when you go down. The other kids are already running up the ginormous dune, toboggans in tow. Halfway up the hill I realize the dune is much bigger than it appeared.
The first guy goes tumbling down.
Then the next guy.
I make it to the top and what the hell. It's raining and windy and I'm standing at the top of a sand dune in New Zealand. I jump on the toboggan and go, dragging my feet to slow me down from a bazillion miles/hr to a zillion miles/hr.
Soaking wet and covered in sand, my jeans found a whole new level of grossness. Relentless shivering makes the rest of the ride a condition of extremes: everything is perfect and everything is uncomfortable.
9/12/10
While not making plans is liberating and cool, it also gets kind of stressful. Hours and dollars disappear into the internets searching for what happens next. Without a place to stay, we pack up and get on the road south towards Auckland.
A quick stop at one of New Zealand's awesome I-Sites and we now have lodging in Auckland.
We drive the coastal route -- first to Langs Beach and then Manghaerei Heads. I've been talking up the Cliff Walk for days and hold my breath for good weather. As we pull into the parking lot we see what we see and race to get our gear together. The Pacific Coast is dotted with black sand that turns into rocks that turns into larger rocks that turns into islands that disappear into the horizon.
I sigh as I read the sign for the walk, directing us down the beach to its start but warning us of an impossible return in high tide.
What time is high tide? Right.
We alter our hike, walking the beach and climbing only the first thousand steps to the cliff top. The stairs take us through the brightest greens and blues, sheep on one side ocean on the other.
It's 8pm and restaurants are already closed in Auckland. Maybe a chocolate bar for dinner ... No! Wait! It's Wagamama! On the way back, we sidetrack for ice cream, chocolate and kiwi sorbet. Mmmm.
But then it starts to rain. My ice cream gets wet. The saddest ever.
9/13/10
Papatoetoe. Whatawhata. It's a driving day and another chance to butcher the name of every town we pass through. And laugh about it.
Things we wonder about:
Is it really that bad to pick up a hitchhiker carrying a surfboard when there is no water in sight?
How do cows stand on the side of a steep hill?
Why do all the cows face in the same direction?
Where are the unicorns?
Anna at I-Site in Auckland is amazing. She set us straight and turned our ??? to !!! Many fun things to come.
To Waitomo.
We arrive at our hostel -- Juno Hall -- located in the middle of nowhere. There are animals outside that I can't identify. I'm a city girl. Alpaca? Ostrich? I need one of those Farmer and The Dell sounds thing for kids. Or is it Old McDonald? Wood paneling and plaid sheets tie the room together. This isn't just rustic, this is roughing it. I make my eyes go fuzzy so that I see the colors not the details.
Using the Internet is better than sleep. But I was so busy updating my blog I failed to notice the huge pile of ants swarming around me ...
9/14/10
Bad day.
Today's entry has been edited to fit your screen.
Glowworms light up the caves and turn the world inside out: the night sky appears below the ground. Glowworms are really maggots. They live for about 11 months and only two days in their adult stage. Forever young and grossly stunning.
I went blackwater cave rafting. It's every fear packed into an inner tube sent down a river into the depths of a cave.
I don't want to talk about it.
I didn't get a chance to thank Monkey for saving me. Shock is silencing. I don't even know who pulled me from the water. Stuck in the caves though, he talked me through the rest of the trek. I know he does this stuff everyday but it's not everyday that I almost drowned.
Thank you.
9/15/10
Rotorua stinks!
It really does.
Sulfur.
One of my most favorite things about the trip so far is that I am always surprised. It is impossible to begin to imagine anything that we sign ourselves up for. It's like everyday is my birthday so everyday I get a present. Today was no exception.
When we arrive at the Zorb place, we see Phil and Rachel who we met blackwater rafting.
"How's your head?"
"I'm fine, thanks." I am fine. Mostly.
They are traveling north and we are traveling south. After exchanging NZ tips, Denise and I change into our bathing suits. It's cold but the sun is warm. We hop in the back of a van and BUMP BUMP BUMP to the top of the hill. Geeeez.
Zydroing is like zorbing except with water. It's also better for people who get sick when flipped over and over at accelerating rates. = Me. When you zorb you are strapped in and roll down the hill with the ball. When you Zydro, the water keeps you from flipping when you roll down the hill with the ball.
The water goes in. Then we slide in through a small opening in the giant plastic ball. Then we roll the hell down a mountain. WOW!
OMG. WTF. ER.
9/16/10
Because I broke my body, Denise and I decide to stay in Rotorua one more day. After we move from our fancy pants hotel to another not so fancy pants hotel down the street, it's a slow day.
When in Rotorua ...
We drive out to Waimangu Volcanic Valley and take an hour long walk through the newest geothermal area in the world. The rain is on and off but the colors stay unreal. It's like a rainbow melted all over the landscape. New Zealand is the Land of Rainbows.
Everyone is talking about the bad weather. And our plans change like the wind. Again.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Declaration of Independence
We are staying another day in Rotorua so that my wounds can heal a little before moving ahead. My shoulder is seriously sprained and we had to cancel some of our upcoming plans. Good and not so good, it's all part of the adventure. Everything is awesome.
Back to business:
[Always a few days behind]
9/10/10
Peppertree Lodge has been surprisingly nice except for the paper thin walls. Not an exaggeration. The girls in the room next to us giggle a lot. I think they squeezed about twenty little kids into that four person room. What could be so funny at 6:30 am? Shhh, I'm trying to sleep. It's no use. Up and at them.
Bryan, the owner, is a chatterbox. He talks a lot and goes on crazy long tangents. I strain to hear him over his gold tooth. Is it gold or is it just rotted? I can't tell. He's friendly though and full of information, a most helpful voice to an exhausted traveler.
Back to business:
[Always a few days behind]
9/10/10
Peppertree Lodge has been surprisingly nice except for the paper thin walls. Not an exaggeration. The girls in the room next to us giggle a lot. I think they squeezed about twenty little kids into that four person room. What could be so funny at 6:30 am? Shhh, I'm trying to sleep. It's no use. Up and at them.
Bryan, the owner, is a chatterbox. He talks a lot and goes on crazy long tangents. I strain to hear him over his gold tooth. Is it gold or is it just rotted? I can't tell. He's friendly though and full of information, a most helpful voice to an exhausted traveler.
He caught me sitting in the lounge typing on my phone.
"What would you do without your mobile phone?" he asked. "I was away for five years and never contacted home once."
I stuttered, my typical response to an unexpected confrontation: "Uhhh, huh, well ...". I tried to explain that my phone was my modern day journal, "I'm not even connected to the internet!" He shook his head and moved on. I sat there feeling like a silly American traveler. I am.
We decided to hike to Haruru Falls, a 2.5 hour walk from our hostel. The Maori believe that a water monster lives in the lagoon beneath the falls. When we told Bryan about our plans he smirked: "Have you ever seen Niagara Falls?"
"Yeah..." [where is he going with this]
"Well it's nothing like that." His discouragement did not disturb my excitement. There is a monster at the end of the trek! No way I am missing that. Bryan said the hike time estimate was based on how long it would take an old granny and a two year old child to walk there. From the office, I grabbed a map with a black dotted line through a large area of green. I think green represents forest but I could be wrong. We packed some snacks and left.
I just used the nicest "public" restroom ever. I convinced the guy at the Maori Treaty Grounds to let me use the bathroom in their main building. Birds and light and slate and wood and sandblasted glass and shadows.
We continue on our walk. The trail is beautiful. Everything exists here -- jungle meets rainforest meets New Zealand travel guide meets Upstate New York meets California. Familiar ... and not at all. The birds sound like an army of jack-in-the-boxes and I think there might be pterodactyls circling in the sky. Something is making lots of swooshy wing flapping noises in the canopy above.
I don't know why I feel so tired. That sucks.
About 3/4 of the way in we arrive at a boardwalk that crosses a mudflat and weaves through a sea of mangroves. Life and death stagnate in the eerie brown sludge. I feel like I'm in the Neverending Story: Artax, nooo!
The hike goes on forever. As much as I love endless beauty, I just don't get it. I keep asking, "an old granny and a two year old?" Not likely. The landscape is constantly changing. We are moving through an earth science textbook detailing the climate zones of the world. It's seventh grade, illustrated.Finally, we turn a corner and hear the roar of the falls. Haruru means "big noise" -- its grand entrance is fitting. We arrive at the top, a perfect spot for picture posing. The roaring falls explode into the basin below, undoubtedly waking the water monster. Luckily, the monster is kind, shooting two rainbows from its mouth to meet the sky: 'Hello! Hello!'
I stuttered, my typical response to an unexpected confrontation: "Uhhh, huh, well ...". I tried to explain that my phone was my modern day journal, "I'm not even connected to the internet!" He shook his head and moved on. I sat there feeling like a silly American traveler. I am.
We decided to hike to Haruru Falls, a 2.5 hour walk from our hostel. The Maori believe that a water monster lives in the lagoon beneath the falls. When we told Bryan about our plans he smirked: "Have you ever seen Niagara Falls?"
"Yeah..." [where is he going with this]
"Well it's nothing like that." His discouragement did not disturb my excitement. There is a monster at the end of the trek! No way I am missing that. Bryan said the hike time estimate was based on how long it would take an old granny and a two year old child to walk there. From the office, I grabbed a map with a black dotted line through a large area of green. I think green represents forest but I could be wrong. We packed some snacks and left.
I just used the nicest "public" restroom ever. I convinced the guy at the Maori Treaty Grounds to let me use the bathroom in their main building. Birds and light and slate and wood and sandblasted glass and shadows.
We continue on our walk. The trail is beautiful. Everything exists here -- jungle meets rainforest meets New Zealand travel guide meets Upstate New York meets California. Familiar ... and not at all. The birds sound like an army of jack-in-the-boxes and I think there might be pterodactyls circling in the sky. Something is making lots of swooshy wing flapping noises in the canopy above.
I don't know why I feel so tired. That sucks.
About 3/4 of the way in we arrive at a boardwalk that crosses a mudflat and weaves through a sea of mangroves. Life and death stagnate in the eerie brown sludge. I feel like I'm in the Neverending Story: Artax, nooo!
The hike goes on forever. As much as I love endless beauty, I just don't get it. I keep asking, "an old granny and a two year old?" Not likely. The landscape is constantly changing. We are moving through an earth science textbook detailing the climate zones of the world. It's seventh grade, illustrated.Finally, we turn a corner and hear the roar of the falls. Haruru means "big noise" -- its grand entrance is fitting. We arrive at the top, a perfect spot for picture posing. The roaring falls explode into the basin below, undoubtedly waking the water monster. Luckily, the monster is kind, shooting two rainbows from its mouth to meet the sky: 'Hello! Hello!'
Denise and I decided early in the trip that we would never go the same route twice. It was already 3pm at the falls and we weren't sure we could make it back through the forest before nightfall. In sticking to our declaration of independence, we headed to the main road in search of a bus or cab back to town. We stopped to ask someone where to find the bus: "At the top of the hill there's a dairy." Not exactly a bus but it's now our new destination.
We walk up.
And up.
And wonder very loudly if this was a good idea. No, no it was not.
The restrooms are the grossest ever. TV monitors showing the security camera footage hang above the sink. I cringe to question the level of privacy in the bathroom.
We asked the clerk if there was a bus or taxi into town. He blinked and fidgeted for a long time before explaining that it was his first day and he didn't know nothin. How about a phone book or the number for information? He stood there utterly confused and rustled some papers. Understand at this point we are at the top of a gigantic hill, nowhere, many kilometers from town. A woman in the store tells us to walk -- it's not too far. Really, ok. Yeah, less than an hour. Great. And a covered walkway. Easy. So frustration leads us to take the short [long] walk back.
As we are getting ready to go, I wait for Denise on a bench outside. I am approached by a young girl on a bicycle.
She asks if I am going for a walk -- yes, I am going for a walk.
She asks if I am on holiday -- Yes, I am on holiday.
She asks where I am from -- I am from California.
At this point Denise is by my side and says she is from Florida.
Denise: "Have you heard of Florida?
Girl: "Is that where the queen lives?"
Denise: "No."
Girl: "King?"
Denise: "No."
The conversation continues for another minute before the girl is swept away by a few of her friends. I cannot explain how much the walk home sucked. It SUCKED.
Walkway? No.
Sidewalk? No.
Shoulder? No.
[The next part of the story will not be blogged. Sorry. Sometimes things are better that way].
She asks if I am on holiday -- Yes, I am on holiday.
She asks where I am from -- I am from California.
At this point Denise is by my side and says she is from Florida.
Denise: "Have you heard of Florida?
Girl: "Is that where the queen lives?"
Denise: "No."
Girl: "King?"
Denise: "No."
The conversation continues for another minute before the girl is swept away by a few of her friends. I cannot explain how much the walk home sucked. It SUCKED.
Walkway? No.
Sidewalk? No.
Shoulder? No.
[The next part of the story will not be blogged. Sorry. Sometimes things are better that way].
Haggard and cranky, we walked into a Thai restaurant and ate like an old granny not wanting to waste a crumb of food and a two year old with eyes bigger than her stomach.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
The Proposal
Dear Mom and Dad,
I am writing to let you know that today I met my future husband. His name is Monkey. I am certain you will love him as much as I do. He saved my life so that makes him a super amazing totally awesome guy. Not sure his real name, or much else about him ... but I think he's perfect.
Oh, right, I'm alive.
Not that you had any idea what I was doing at 10:30am but I just wanted to tell you that everything is a-okay. Almost. My right shoulder is wrecked, burning in all the wrong places. And my hand is bruised, but only on the bendy part of the thumb.
Oh, yeah, I hate underground cave rafting. I lived a nightmare for about two hours this morning: dark caves + water rapids. I flipped my inner tube after jumping over a waterfall, smacked my body into the side of the cave wall, and was trapped underwater for long enough to know that I really really hate cave rafting.
But I am totally fine. And this super amazing totally awesome guy named Monkey saved my life.
Love you!
Jessica
current location: Rotorua, NZ
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Three Parts
My blog is dragging like sheep in the heat.
I feel compelled to write about my trip chronologically. Since I'm behind in my [up]dates, this post is about my last day in Auckland. It's all written in bits and pieces of the past, present, and future. Meanwhile, I'm in the middle of nowhere, sleeping next to a few goats and a pig. I have so much to tell you!
9/9/10
Morning:
I've been told Aucklanders take their coffee very seriously. As a San Franciscan, I can understand this mentality. Just like a stroll around the Mission, the Town [Queen Street] has at least one coffee shop/cafe every block. The first day in Auckland I went to get COFFEE from the COFFEE SHOP only to be met with a blank stare when I asked for a cup of COFFEE. They call it "flat white" or "flat black," which is more like a shot of espresso with milk or without. Still not sure about their love for COFFEE when they really only love things that are flat. Which makes sense considering how difficult it has been to find sparkling water.
So this morning I felt rather silly hiking over to Starbucks to get a tall brewed coffee with soy milk. The barista thought it was funny that they sell soy milk. Why?
In the end, I only drank about half as their milk to coffee ratio was a little off. Ehh, coffee flavored soy milk is not my thing. Still learning.
We are getting ready to leave behind heated towel racks and room service for the unknowns of the North Island.
Afternoon:
Grocery shopping was more challenging than expected. My brain is a little slow in processing the stay to the left rule. Cultural differences have a sharp learning curve. Until this moment, I had no idea the overpowering need I have to always be right. No wait, that's not what I mean. I am always right but not always aware that I instinctively stay to the right when I walk. My confusion knocked me into two innocent shoppers. It's the little things.
Evening:
We spent most of the day driving and are staying at a hostel in Paihia, one block from the water. The drive to the Bay of Islands was a beautiful postcard of luscious green hills covered with trees, cows, and sheep. It was "wowwwww" around every single bend in the road, and there were a lot of them.
The New Zealand campaign for safe driving is frightening. There are so many signs posted about driving slowly and many other disturbing signs that say things like "High Crash Area," "Don't become a statistic," "Your last family photo," and "People have lost loved ones on this road." Blunt. It is clear that more than my fear of heights, more than my fear of dirty bed linens, and more than my fear of the dark is my sickening fear of cars. It was a quietly painful drive with swelling anxiety that settled into a spot just above my left temple. Denise did an awesome job driving on the wrong side of the road and I did my best not to scream. Success. I am a good navigator.
On our trip up here we spontaneously pulled off the highway [one lane each direction]. 'Want to go to the beach?' Swerve. Right turn. Stay left. Some signs later we arrived at a parking lot.
I was grateful for the break and some fresh air. We ended up at Bream Bay -- more like Dream Bay. I started to walk on a small boardwalk to the shore, still hidden behind the wall of dunes. I paused for a second before the ocean became visible. I wanted to take in the next moment to its fullest, knowing that whatever I saw was going to be amazing. Yep. The sand was compact and I sprinted down the coast ... and then stopped, took off my shoes, and ran into the water. Just my feet, that's all. The water was surprisingly warm and the waves were very gentle. I touched the other side of the Pacific Ocean. Neat!
I walked up the steps to the Peppertree Lodge and saw the ... HOLY SHIT the stars are bright!
current location: Waitomo, NZ
I feel compelled to write about my trip chronologically. Since I'm behind in my [up]dates, this post is about my last day in Auckland. It's all written in bits and pieces of the past, present, and future. Meanwhile, I'm in the middle of nowhere, sleeping next to a few goats and a pig. I have so much to tell you!
9/9/10
Morning:
I've been told Aucklanders take their coffee very seriously. As a San Franciscan, I can understand this mentality. Just like a stroll around the Mission, the Town [Queen Street] has at least one coffee shop/cafe every block. The first day in Auckland I went to get COFFEE from the COFFEE SHOP only to be met with a blank stare when I asked for a cup of COFFEE. They call it "flat white" or "flat black," which is more like a shot of espresso with milk or without. Still not sure about their love for COFFEE when they really only love things that are flat. Which makes sense considering how difficult it has been to find sparkling water.
So this morning I felt rather silly hiking over to Starbucks to get a tall brewed coffee with soy milk. The barista thought it was funny that they sell soy milk. Why?
In the end, I only drank about half as their milk to coffee ratio was a little off. Ehh, coffee flavored soy milk is not my thing. Still learning.
We are getting ready to leave behind heated towel racks and room service for the unknowns of the North Island.
Afternoon:
Grocery shopping was more challenging than expected. My brain is a little slow in processing the stay to the left rule. Cultural differences have a sharp learning curve. Until this moment, I had no idea the overpowering need I have to always be right. No wait, that's not what I mean. I am always right but not always aware that I instinctively stay to the right when I walk. My confusion knocked me into two innocent shoppers. It's the little things.
Evening:
We spent most of the day driving and are staying at a hostel in Paihia, one block from the water. The drive to the Bay of Islands was a beautiful postcard of luscious green hills covered with trees, cows, and sheep. It was "wowwwww" around every single bend in the road, and there were a lot of them.
The New Zealand campaign for safe driving is frightening. There are so many signs posted about driving slowly and many other disturbing signs that say things like "High Crash Area," "Don't become a statistic," "Your last family photo," and "People have lost loved ones on this road." Blunt. It is clear that more than my fear of heights, more than my fear of dirty bed linens, and more than my fear of the dark is my sickening fear of cars. It was a quietly painful drive with swelling anxiety that settled into a spot just above my left temple. Denise did an awesome job driving on the wrong side of the road and I did my best not to scream. Success. I am a good navigator.
On our trip up here we spontaneously pulled off the highway [one lane each direction]. 'Want to go to the beach?' Swerve. Right turn. Stay left. Some signs later we arrived at a parking lot.
I was grateful for the break and some fresh air. We ended up at Bream Bay -- more like Dream Bay. I started to walk on a small boardwalk to the shore, still hidden behind the wall of dunes. I paused for a second before the ocean became visible. I wanted to take in the next moment to its fullest, knowing that whatever I saw was going to be amazing. Yep. The sand was compact and I sprinted down the coast ... and then stopped, took off my shoes, and ran into the water. Just my feet, that's all. The water was surprisingly warm and the waves were very gentle. I touched the other side of the Pacific Ocean. Neat!
I walked up the steps to the Peppertree Lodge and saw the ... HOLY SHIT the stars are bright!
current location: Waitomo, NZ
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Mother Nature & Grandpa Gravity
9/8/10
It's really loud outside, like a rave in the alley below. Dance music and obnoxious screams echo off tall city buildings. These are the wild sounds of nature that lull me to bed tonight. Who rages on a Wednesday? Aucklanders.
Today I scaled the earth and walked in the sky; drops of rain mixed with the sweat of fear. As I lunged from the platform 192 metres above ground, I let go of the rope and raised my arms. Every second felt like forever, but forever didn't feel like long enough.
When Denise said let's go to the Sky Tower, I agreed. Five minutes later I was tightening my harness, only knowing that whatever I was about to do involved being high above the ground. Like, 'I should be buckled into an airplane seat high' not 'strapped into a few slack ropes' high. With only the gentle tug of a safety harness to trust, I walked the external circumference of the Sky Tower. The one metre wide platform was our runway and Brad, our guide, taught us to work it. Lean off the edge, straighten your legs, head up, look forward, and then look down. With our two new Austrian friends insane enough to also pay for this escapade, we walked above the city of Auckland.
Hanging off the side of a building made the world so small. Today I was a giant.
We also climbed Mt Eden, the largest volcanic cone in Auckland. It rained when we got there but the sun stayed with us, setting in the brightest reds. We lingered a little too long, mesmerized by 360 degrees of water, city, sprawl, and beyond. Did I mention the sun set? We climbed down a muddy mountain in the dark with two dim flashlights and a vague sense of direction. We made it, we did.
I've been journaling in the note pad app on my iphone. So modern, I know, right? No wifi. No updates. There is no internet in the future. I tried texting to blogspot.com and it broke this entry into about 15 parts. Also, I can't attach photos yet. Just you wait though. More to come!
current location: Bay of Islands, NZ
It's really loud outside, like a rave in the alley below. Dance music and obnoxious screams echo off tall city buildings. These are the wild sounds of nature that lull me to bed tonight. Who rages on a Wednesday? Aucklanders.
Today I scaled the earth and walked in the sky; drops of rain mixed with the sweat of fear. As I lunged from the platform 192 metres above ground, I let go of the rope and raised my arms. Every second felt like forever, but forever didn't feel like long enough.
When Denise said let's go to the Sky Tower, I agreed. Five minutes later I was tightening my harness, only knowing that whatever I was about to do involved being high above the ground. Like, 'I should be buckled into an airplane seat high' not 'strapped into a few slack ropes' high. With only the gentle tug of a safety harness to trust, I walked the external circumference of the Sky Tower. The one metre wide platform was our runway and Brad, our guide, taught us to work it. Lean off the edge, straighten your legs, head up, look forward, and then look down. With our two new Austrian friends insane enough to also pay for this escapade, we walked above the city of Auckland.
Hanging off the side of a building made the world so small. Today I was a giant.
We also climbed Mt Eden, the largest volcanic cone in Auckland. It rained when we got there but the sun stayed with us, setting in the brightest reds. We lingered a little too long, mesmerized by 360 degrees of water, city, sprawl, and beyond. Did I mention the sun set? We climbed down a muddy mountain in the dark with two dim flashlights and a vague sense of direction. We made it, we did.
I've been journaling in the note pad app on my iphone. So modern, I know, right? No wifi. No updates. There is no internet in the future. I tried texting to blogspot.com and it broke this entry into about 15 parts. Also, I can't attach photos yet. Just you wait though. More to come!
current location: Bay of Islands, NZ
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Time Travel and the days after
Departure: San Francisco, CA 9:00pm September 4, 2010
Arrive: Auckland, NZ 5:15am September 6, 2010
Travel Time: 13hrs 15min
Time Travel: What happened to September 5, 2010?
International date line/2010
The seats on New Zealand Air recline almost all the way down. On a long flights it seems like a posture perfectly conducive to sleep. Except when the person in front of you reclines to the maximum degree, they are basically in your lap, and your face, and your brain. Snores and sniffles fill in the gaps of impending claustrophobia. I shuffled my antsy body to the back of the plane to stand with slightly less discomfort. Standing up is the new sitting down. I have my stop watch counting the hours, minutes, and seconds we've been in the air. 09:03:42.04. Long flight.
9/6/2010
I'M IN NEW ZEALAND and I'm really very tired. Auckland reminds me a lot of the Pacific Northwest. It's grey, windy, rainy-ish, hilly, and has this tall touristy attraction called the Space Needle, I mean, Sky Tower. With bags under our eyes and hoods over our heads, Denise and I walked along the piers and wandered through central Auckland. The whole driving on the wrong side of the road thing is just ... wrong. And the water in the toilet bowl, the light switches, the escalators ...
I wanted to access the Internet about 50,000 times today and my phone is misbehaving. I guess it could be my fault but probably not. The public library has computers and I waited 45min for 20min of time. Who can get anything done in 20 minutes? Not me. After taking that typing class in middle school, I think my wpm is pretty darn high. I blame the Internet for being slow and the clock obviously being tampered with for my inability to compose a single email in my reserved time. (update: phone + Internet fixed, thanks international ATT helpline for fixing the problem you created)
There are puddles of water on the jacket of the guy next to me. The weather appears to have settled on rain. I now realize it's getting dark outside -- it's only 5pm.
9/7/10
Auckland Fireman are really good looking. Just saying.
Early this morning, Denise and I were sitting in our hotel room talking about how awesome this place is. Mid-conversation, the fire alarm goes off. There is a big red button on the wall that says: "Smoke Alarm. Press to acknowledge." Denise runs over and pushes the button but the alarm continues. We then hear a recorded voice telling us to evacuate the building. Oh. Oh ok. Denise is yelling at me to grab my important papers and I am yelling at her to put her sneakers on. Funny scene.
Important what? Sneakers?
I grab my backpack, she gets dressed and we are off ... Running down 20 flights of stairs! There was an older woman racing down behind us, holding onto Denise for support, and a man in front of me lighting the dark stairwell with his cell phone.
Someone on the second floor was reheating their pizza in the oven ...in the pizza box ... and forgot ... FIRE! Don't worry, everything is a-okay.
We climbed a volcano today. I think. I don't really know if I believe it though because there was green grass and trees and flowers and birds everywhere. But I swear, they said it was a volcano. Auckland is built on 50 volcanoes and there is a reservoir of magma 100km below ground.
The beauty of danger.
Arrive: Auckland, NZ 5:15am September 6, 2010
Travel Time: 13hrs 15min
Time Travel: What happened to September 5, 2010?
International date line/2010
The seats on New Zealand Air recline almost all the way down. On a long flights it seems like a posture perfectly conducive to sleep. Except when the person in front of you reclines to the maximum degree, they are basically in your lap, and your face, and your brain. Snores and sniffles fill in the gaps of impending claustrophobia. I shuffled my antsy body to the back of the plane to stand with slightly less discomfort. Standing up is the new sitting down. I have my stop watch counting the hours, minutes, and seconds we've been in the air. 09:03:42.04. Long flight.
9/6/2010
I'M IN NEW ZEALAND and I'm really very tired. Auckland reminds me a lot of the Pacific Northwest. It's grey, windy, rainy-ish, hilly, and has this tall touristy attraction called the Space Needle, I mean, Sky Tower. With bags under our eyes and hoods over our heads, Denise and I walked along the piers and wandered through central Auckland. The whole driving on the wrong side of the road thing is just ... wrong. And the water in the toilet bowl, the light switches, the escalators ...
I wanted to access the Internet about 50,000 times today and my phone is misbehaving. I guess it could be my fault but probably not. The public library has computers and I waited 45min for 20min of time. Who can get anything done in 20 minutes? Not me. After taking that typing class in middle school, I think my wpm is pretty darn high. I blame the Internet for being slow and the clock obviously being tampered with for my inability to compose a single email in my reserved time. (update: phone + Internet fixed, thanks international ATT helpline for fixing the problem you created)
There are puddles of water on the jacket of the guy next to me. The weather appears to have settled on rain. I now realize it's getting dark outside -- it's only 5pm.
9/7/10
Auckland Fireman are really good looking. Just saying.
Early this morning, Denise and I were sitting in our hotel room talking about how awesome this place is. Mid-conversation, the fire alarm goes off. There is a big red button on the wall that says: "Smoke Alarm. Press to acknowledge." Denise runs over and pushes the button but the alarm continues. We then hear a recorded voice telling us to evacuate the building. Oh. Oh ok. Denise is yelling at me to grab my important papers and I am yelling at her to put her sneakers on. Funny scene.
Important what? Sneakers?
I grab my backpack, she gets dressed and we are off ... Running down 20 flights of stairs! There was an older woman racing down behind us, holding onto Denise for support, and a man in front of me lighting the dark stairwell with his cell phone.
Someone on the second floor was reheating their pizza in the oven ...in the pizza box ... and forgot ... FIRE! Don't worry, everything is a-okay.
We climbed a volcano today. I think. I don't really know if I believe it though because there was green grass and trees and flowers and birds everywhere. But I swear, they said it was a volcano. Auckland is built on 50 volcanoes and there is a reservoir of magma 100km below ground.
The beauty of danger.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Uniform. Unicorn. Universe.
All I ever want to wear are t-shirts, jeans, and hoodies. There is little to no flexibility in this compulsion; I make for a sorry San Francisco fashionista. Leave me alone, I am content. The newest addition to my uniform is a wedding ring. No, not like that silly. Denise bought me a fake one, just in case I ever need to say something like, 'hey, see the ring? back off!' As if.
Packing for this trip has been wildly stressful. I am a small person, in stature not presence, and clothing doesn't fit right. It's all technical with newly improved hydrological absorption systems that wick away moisture before you even sweat. I have learned that there are no limits to technology and that travel pants must always look dumb.
The piles of stuff sitting on top of my dresser are rather funny. I don't see how this collection is any different from the one I would gather for a trip to New York. Or Los Angeles. Or anywhere. Even though I'm leaping into the future where everything is both backwards and opposite, I think it's going to be okay. After all, don't the fairies help you when there is trouble? Or is it only when you need a dress to the royal ball.
I have been dreaming about traveling to New Zealand since I was 13 and in a few hours I will get on a plane to live the dream. The real is here now. I think. No, wait. Maybe not. I don't know. Are unicorns for real?
There is so much I want to see but nothing more I want to do than breathe. I know, I know, I breathe everyday all the time, what a banal wish for a trip as epic as this one. I might be a small person but I want to take a breathe so big that my exhalation will reverse the space-time continuum.
I am excited to travel 6519 miles to stand at the edge of the Universe.
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