So we raced up the stairs towards the bridge for more flying body adventures. I had my jumpstyle prepicked so I got suited up first. The body harness held at the waist and even came with a padded seat so that once the swing had swung one could just sit back and enjoy the river view as they were raised back up by winch to the jump point.
I got a hassling from the crew for wearing my AJ Hackett (rival company) t-shirt, so I jumped with my shirt covered in duct tape. Then they found out I was Canadian, which was listed right beside pregnancy, heart disease and back problems as serious medical conditions that could compromise one's ability to jump. Razz razz razz.
Eventually I stepped through the gate to the jump area. As anyone who knows me can tell you, my decision-making is not what you would call 'swift.' Given that, I decided to go with "Jumpmaster's Choice" for my first swing. After a brief conversation, it was decided that I would go backwards. The crew at the Canyon Swing were a bunch of jokers and really fun people, and their hilarious antics included dangling you off the bridge and then catching you just before your inertia got the better of you. After some happy snaps I was able to just lean back into oblivion.
The rush was incredible! Though I twisted in mid-air and didn't manage to get the whole "watch the cliff falling away from you" effect, it was still quite exhilerating. So much so that I opted to pay the $40 I'd saved from the bungy to jump a second time.
This time I chose a style called "Gimp Boy Goes to Hollywood," which consists of turning oneself upside down, reaching for the river below, and swinging eyeballs first into the canyon. The jokers decided it would be fun to pretend they hadn't done the proper safety check, but that was old hat by then, and when they finally launched me it was a marvellous ride! I picked up the customary t-shirt and dvd to relive the experience, which was well put together.
After that I chatted a little more with my fellow jumpers and invited them to the pub later in the evening to celebrate with the Strayers. I didn't manage to find them later, but they had not nailed down their plans when we parted, so no worries.
After the ride I headed back to the hostel to find Fionnuala, Emma, and Alan in the room about to hit the town. Manon had done a skydive that morning and was currently out doing the Nevis bungy, but we managed to collect her and Yukya before setting forth.
We went down to the Info & Track to book some fabulous luging for that evening and further activities for later on.
I got myself a haircut while the others shopped and we all met back up at the hostelbefore heading over to the gondola for luging action.
What started as a nice ride up the mountain culminated in 6 runs down a portion of it in modified luge carts for a nostalgic Mario Kart experience. We met up with some others from the bus and took turns taking photos of the adventure before staging a big race at the end. Despite Emma's crafty cheating, Fionnuala came out the winner and we all chipped in for a celebratory I Heart Luge t-shirt. I guess luge is not as well known across the pond, as our Irish friends could not stop saying the word and giggling.
After that it was downtown for some ginormous FergBurgers and Cookie Time! cookies and the pub meeting that would be our last day with Curry.
We took photos and drank ales and had a bit of a dance as another parting was imminant. Only myself, Manon and Maud were to carry on forth to Te Anau/Milford Sound the next day and some proper goodbyes were in order.
The night ended with a 1:20am ice cream and some pre-emptive hugs goodbye before climbing into bed for a short rest.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Wheeeeee! - Queenstown
So I decided to let someone wrap a towel and a bungy cord around my ankles and let me throw myself off a bridge. I had hummed and hawwed about whether I would do the shorter bungy with more history and the Shotover Canyon Swing (my true purpose in looking forward to Queenstown) or do the 134m Nevis Bungy (New Zealand's highest) and the AJ Hackett canyon swing (less exciting than the Shotover, but bundling would help me save money). In the end I decided to go with my gut and do the 43m Kawarau Bridge bungy and the Shotover canyon swing.
I generally don't get too nervous with amusements that involve hurling oneself off of high things, I guess my time as a carnie contributed to that, but there was a tinge of trepidation when my feet left the platform. It was more of a teetering over the edge than an actual jump, but the effect was pretty much the same. The sensation of going from standing straight up to head first and falling fast proved a little much for my brain to handle, and there are a good 2 seconds of just blankness in my memory of the jump, but as soon as I felt the bungy cord pull me back towards the bridge I was able to speak again and let out a loud cry of joy to the watching public, who had the unfortunate task of watching my shirt ride up to my neck on inversion. Free show, indeed.
After being lowered into the raft and paddled back to shore, I had that walking-on-air feeling that is hard to beat and I practically raced up the stairs to watch the others experience the wonderment.
I got suckered into buying the souvenir photos and postcards, though I don't regret it, and then we headed into Queenstown proper to check in at Nomads.
The hostel was surprisingly clean and orderly for its size, and there was even a free meal of Bali chicken, sweet as! The meal was 45 minutes late and would not have been sufficient even had the rice not been burnt, but backpacker labour is what you pay for.
I topped up on spaghetti and went for a look around with some of the others before coming back to the hostel to update the blog and upload some happy snaps before bed.
The next day was the big canyon swing. I had booked it with Curry for phat discounts while at the bungy site the day before, and was all stoked to go meet the van at 11:45.
Also waiting to hurl themselves off things were two Canadians, Kate and Ben, and their Australian travel companion Stephen.
We had a bit of a chat on the way to the site, and as soon as we stepped out of the vehicle and finished doing business at the Mr. T and Chuck Norris themed urinals, we bounded up towards the bridge.
Blasted internet cards. I'll finish this later.
I generally don't get too nervous with amusements that involve hurling oneself off of high things, I guess my time as a carnie contributed to that, but there was a tinge of trepidation when my feet left the platform. It was more of a teetering over the edge than an actual jump, but the effect was pretty much the same. The sensation of going from standing straight up to head first and falling fast proved a little much for my brain to handle, and there are a good 2 seconds of just blankness in my memory of the jump, but as soon as I felt the bungy cord pull me back towards the bridge I was able to speak again and let out a loud cry of joy to the watching public, who had the unfortunate task of watching my shirt ride up to my neck on inversion. Free show, indeed.
After being lowered into the raft and paddled back to shore, I had that walking-on-air feeling that is hard to beat and I practically raced up the stairs to watch the others experience the wonderment.
I got suckered into buying the souvenir photos and postcards, though I don't regret it, and then we headed into Queenstown proper to check in at Nomads.
The hostel was surprisingly clean and orderly for its size, and there was even a free meal of Bali chicken, sweet as! The meal was 45 minutes late and would not have been sufficient even had the rice not been burnt, but backpacker labour is what you pay for.
I topped up on spaghetti and went for a look around with some of the others before coming back to the hostel to update the blog and upload some happy snaps before bed.
The next day was the big canyon swing. I had booked it with Curry for phat discounts while at the bungy site the day before, and was all stoked to go meet the van at 11:45.
Also waiting to hurl themselves off things were two Canadians, Kate and Ben, and their Australian travel companion Stephen.
We had a bit of a chat on the way to the site, and as soon as we stepped out of the vehicle and finished doing business at the Mr. T and Chuck Norris themed urinals, we bounded up towards the bridge.
Blasted internet cards. I'll finish this later.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
A Perfectly Good Bridge - Makarora to Queenstown
The day had finally arrived!
Everyone was abuzz with the prospect of arriving in Queenstown - the adventure Mecca of New Zealand and perhaps the world!
But first, there was the drive to Wanaka, sprinkled with lovely photo stops before a good ol' lunch break in Wanaka itself. This was a sad time, as Curtis, Hayley, Davin, Astrid, Anika, and Kevin would all depart the bus for two nights of relaxation away from the madding bus. I had planned the same for myself come Dunedin, but was still not the happiest camper when they took all of their bags and got off the bus.
The new sixsome consisted of myself, Fionnuala, Emma, Manon, Yukya (who sang the best damn 'Let It Be' the night before), and Kennith, fellow king of the forest. We walked around Wanaka and consoled ourselves with a swingset and pictures with a giant hand.
Afterwards we wandered over to the Subway to meet some other Strayers and experience the best view I've ever had from a fast food outlet.
Back on the bus, it was a b-line down to Queenstown, home of bungy. We stopped on the outskirts to watch an intro to bungy video at the very first official bungy site.
As I mentioned earlier I had no intention of hurling myself off a bridge, but seeing as it was the first one and as old as I am and $40 off, I thought I'd go plunge towards the river.
A few of us went right away while the others watched with cameras. Getting up third in line, I saw one comrade tell the operator "I'm so fucking scared." just before turning around and falling 43m towards the water.
My turn next and I tried to make a show of it, which I did in an unintentional way.
Running out of time so more about that later!
Everyone was abuzz with the prospect of arriving in Queenstown - the adventure Mecca of New Zealand and perhaps the world!
But first, there was the drive to Wanaka, sprinkled with lovely photo stops before a good ol' lunch break in Wanaka itself. This was a sad time, as Curtis, Hayley, Davin, Astrid, Anika, and Kevin would all depart the bus for two nights of relaxation away from the madding bus. I had planned the same for myself come Dunedin, but was still not the happiest camper when they took all of their bags and got off the bus.
The new sixsome consisted of myself, Fionnuala, Emma, Manon, Yukya (who sang the best damn 'Let It Be' the night before), and Kennith, fellow king of the forest. We walked around Wanaka and consoled ourselves with a swingset and pictures with a giant hand.
Afterwards we wandered over to the Subway to meet some other Strayers and experience the best view I've ever had from a fast food outlet.
Back on the bus, it was a b-line down to Queenstown, home of bungy. We stopped on the outskirts to watch an intro to bungy video at the very first official bungy site.
As I mentioned earlier I had no intention of hurling myself off a bridge, but seeing as it was the first one and as old as I am and $40 off, I thought I'd go plunge towards the river.
A few of us went right away while the others watched with cameras. Getting up third in line, I saw one comrade tell the operator "I'm so fucking scared." just before turning around and falling 43m towards the water.
My turn next and I tried to make a show of it, which I did in an unintentional way.
Running out of time so more about that later!
Makeoke! - Franz Josef to Makarora
Today's journey was a sojourn to a little place called Makarora. It's one of those quaint little places with one shop that no Kiwi even knows exists. When the Stray bus comes through, it doubles the population. That being said, this was one of my favourite and most memorable stops on the tour.
Getting out early from Franz Josef (who featured prominantly in Anika's nightmare about being chased and crushed by a glacier), we had a gorgeous drive through the green countryside with three full stops for photos of waterfalls, rivers, trees, and stumps resembling thrones which lend themselves perfectly to playing "King of the Forest"
By this time in the tour I felt that the group on the bus was a really solid one. Everybody seemed to know or at least know of everybody else, and we all got along for the most part. The day's travel passed quickly, and before we knew it we were in sleepy Makarora, where popular activities include naps, food, and booze. The one activity offered was an early morning jetboat ride, but I took a pass on that one to save money and have a lazy day.
The other popular attraction of Makarora is the nightly kareoke in the accommodation pub. Normally, there would be no way in hell I'd get up with a microphone in front of me and a midi backup. However, cheap pitchers and great people have magical powers.
About 10 minutes into the evening I was coaxed into a duet of 'Fat Bottom Girls' with Fionnuala, and it was all downhill from there.
Knowing that I would likely not see many of these people for a good long while, I decided to keep the ball rolling, and encourage other reluctant performers to show us what they had with the ol' vocal chords.
The final playlist looked a little something like this:
-Fat Bottom Girls with Fionnuala
-Gangsta's Paradise with Astrid (Canada represent!)
-500 Miles with Alan, Curtis, and Kevin
-Surfin' USA with the other guys
-Ms. Jackson with Curtis
-Total Eclipse of the Heart with Kevin, Cally, and Fionnuala
Following our inebriated march from the pub, we noticed that the entire sky was bright with stars. The most amazing night's sky I've ever seen. The Milky Way was clearly visible and we even saw a shooting star!
It was eventually finally time to turn in, and everyone slept comfortably in Hut 18 (boom), a 10-bed A-frame structure with it's own bathroom and shower and enough room for everyone to have a single bed and individual reading lights for all.
A note from Fionnuala reading "Best Night Out Ever!!!" seemed to adequately sum up the procedings and we were all a little buzzed boarding Anna the bus the next day.
Getting out early from Franz Josef (who featured prominantly in Anika's nightmare about being chased and crushed by a glacier), we had a gorgeous drive through the green countryside with three full stops for photos of waterfalls, rivers, trees, and stumps resembling thrones which lend themselves perfectly to playing "King of the Forest"
By this time in the tour I felt that the group on the bus was a really solid one. Everybody seemed to know or at least know of everybody else, and we all got along for the most part. The day's travel passed quickly, and before we knew it we were in sleepy Makarora, where popular activities include naps, food, and booze. The one activity offered was an early morning jetboat ride, but I took a pass on that one to save money and have a lazy day.
The other popular attraction of Makarora is the nightly kareoke in the accommodation pub. Normally, there would be no way in hell I'd get up with a microphone in front of me and a midi backup. However, cheap pitchers and great people have magical powers.
About 10 minutes into the evening I was coaxed into a duet of 'Fat Bottom Girls' with Fionnuala, and it was all downhill from there.
Knowing that I would likely not see many of these people for a good long while, I decided to keep the ball rolling, and encourage other reluctant performers to show us what they had with the ol' vocal chords.
The final playlist looked a little something like this:
-Fat Bottom Girls with Fionnuala
-Gangsta's Paradise with Astrid (Canada represent!)
-500 Miles with Alan, Curtis, and Kevin
-Surfin' USA with the other guys
-Ms. Jackson with Curtis
-Total Eclipse of the Heart with Kevin, Cally, and Fionnuala
Following our inebriated march from the pub, we noticed that the entire sky was bright with stars. The most amazing night's sky I've ever seen. The Milky Way was clearly visible and we even saw a shooting star!
It was eventually finally time to turn in, and everyone slept comfortably in Hut 18 (boom), a 10-bed A-frame structure with it's own bathroom and shower and enough room for everyone to have a single bed and individual reading lights for all.
A note from Fionnuala reading "Best Night Out Ever!!!" seemed to adequately sum up the procedings and we were all a little buzzed boarding Anna the bus the next day.
They Call It "Rugby" - Franz Josef Day 2
A rather short post on a short but sweet day.
As the Glacier hike was out, I was able to sleep in and go at my own pace, so I lazily stayed in bed until near noon before making a big ol' pot of spaghetti and lounging in front of the impressively-sized but unsatisfactory television watching a countdown of the greatest music videos of all time.
Once that got stale I threw in some washing and headed out to explore the town in search of treasure in the form of a stuffed toy Kakapo. The wee glacier village has four major souvenir shops, none of which were home to the elusive bird. As it was pissing rain and I was drenched, I decided to head back to the hostel, feeling a little better about having done some minor form of exercise while most everyone else was off falling down glaciers.
A change of laundry and the first hikers arrived back home just as I had put everything in the dryer. They were headed to the enormous 20-person spa pool, and a dip sounded like quite the treat so I joined in.
A warm and relaxing 45 minutes later we split up into dinner parties and foraged for noodles in the hostel kitchen.
After that it was out to the pub to take in the Cup Final of the Wellington 7s, which featured an impressive victory by the All Blacks over the English.
How to celebrate? Drink and tell dirty jokes of course! The evening was full of merriment and social gaiety late into the night before we finally settled down to sleep prior to the trip's most frequently-overlooked stop, Makarora.
As the Glacier hike was out, I was able to sleep in and go at my own pace, so I lazily stayed in bed until near noon before making a big ol' pot of spaghetti and lounging in front of the impressively-sized but unsatisfactory television watching a countdown of the greatest music videos of all time.
Once that got stale I threw in some washing and headed out to explore the town in search of treasure in the form of a stuffed toy Kakapo. The wee glacier village has four major souvenir shops, none of which were home to the elusive bird. As it was pissing rain and I was drenched, I decided to head back to the hostel, feeling a little better about having done some minor form of exercise while most everyone else was off falling down glaciers.
A change of laundry and the first hikers arrived back home just as I had put everything in the dryer. They were headed to the enormous 20-person spa pool, and a dip sounded like quite the treat so I joined in.
A warm and relaxing 45 minutes later we split up into dinner parties and foraged for noodles in the hostel kitchen.
After that it was out to the pub to take in the Cup Final of the Wellington 7s, which featured an impressive victory by the All Blacks over the English.
How to celebrate? Drink and tell dirty jokes of course! The evening was full of merriment and social gaiety late into the night before we finally settled down to sleep prior to the trip's most frequently-overlooked stop, Makarora.
Friday, February 18, 2011
With Franz Like These... - Barrytown to Franz Josef
Though I was a little disappointed to have missed out on the cross-dressing tom-foolery of the night before, I was thankful not to be feeling the effects as we set out for the bone carver's at 9am the next day.
7 of us had opted to make lovely bone necklaces first thing in the morning, while the am activity meant a long lie-in for the over-imbibed as the bus would not depart until after midday.
Walking just over the road to the carver's, we found ourselves in an open-air garage-style structure with power sanders on all sides. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the small space looked and smelled of a dentist's office.
Once I got beyond the initial startling, I picked out a design and set to carving.
The process involved drawing out the design on a piece of bone, then shaving the rough outline with a power sander. Some spot-polishes with sandpaper, and then the detail work began with a combination of man power and machine power. Sand, examine, sand, examine, and so forth until about three hours later I was standing in line by the polisher to have my work sealed and threaded for wearing. The final design is a combination of the fish hook (for strength, determination, and safe passage over water) and the twist (the entwining of two souls), I thought a fitting emblem for gifting to my sweetie.
The lady at the carver's recommended that I wear the necklace for the rest of my journey in order to imbue it with my lifeforce before gifting it to my significant other, which I have been doing happily ever since.
Following the carving (the lads working the bar came out to watch and have a breakfast brew with some of the Stray personnel while we were working), we set off for the glacier town of Fran Josef. We first made a stop in Greymouth, Curry's old haunt, for an hour-long lunch break and to exchange some people who had mistakenly only booked their bus until Greymouth for some people just starting a week-long pass from Christchurch who had shuttled over while we inhaled bone fragments.
My intelligence had informed me that I could find a stuffed toy Kakapo at a sanctuary here in Greymouth (this was a coveted souvenier for Cat and I), and between getting my glasses adjusted and finding some chow I set off in search of the elusive bird.
Alas, my efforts came up short and the search continued.
I had a tasty quiche and ice cream in a meal that was themed a radioactive orange colour at the local hotel before meeting up with the others to continue the journey.
There was a big rugby match in town that day, but we were unable to spectate as it was too late in the day. Shucks.
Sadly one of the people departing in Greymouth was a Dutch lad named Rene who I had stunt planed and bone carved with, but these departures were a part of the journey and had become a more optomistic occasion as the trip progressed. He did leave me with the newfound desire to bungy jump, though, something I followed through on in Queenstown (more on that later).
Off to rainy Franz Josef, a quaint little town sandwiched between a glacier and a mountain, with little in the way of exciting architecture but lots of excitement in the way of glacier hikes and cheap pub food.
As my ankle was still a little sore and the hike was expensive, I decided to pass on the icy climb scheduled for the next day, and put off my exploration of the township until then.
The cheap pizza meal was welcomed gladly in the nice hostel pub, and the remainder of the night was spent there getting to know some of the new travellers, namely a couple of wee North Irish lasses called Fionnuala (Finn-uw-lah) and Emma (Emm-ah) who I would travel with for the next few days.
It was a reasonably early night for most as the next day would be an early start, and I followed suit, looking forward to a day of taking it easy.
7 of us had opted to make lovely bone necklaces first thing in the morning, while the am activity meant a long lie-in for the over-imbibed as the bus would not depart until after midday.
Walking just over the road to the carver's, we found ourselves in an open-air garage-style structure with power sanders on all sides. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the small space looked and smelled of a dentist's office.
Once I got beyond the initial startling, I picked out a design and set to carving.
The process involved drawing out the design on a piece of bone, then shaving the rough outline with a power sander. Some spot-polishes with sandpaper, and then the detail work began with a combination of man power and machine power. Sand, examine, sand, examine, and so forth until about three hours later I was standing in line by the polisher to have my work sealed and threaded for wearing. The final design is a combination of the fish hook (for strength, determination, and safe passage over water) and the twist (the entwining of two souls), I thought a fitting emblem for gifting to my sweetie.
The lady at the carver's recommended that I wear the necklace for the rest of my journey in order to imbue it with my lifeforce before gifting it to my significant other, which I have been doing happily ever since.
Following the carving (the lads working the bar came out to watch and have a breakfast brew with some of the Stray personnel while we were working), we set off for the glacier town of Fran Josef. We first made a stop in Greymouth, Curry's old haunt, for an hour-long lunch break and to exchange some people who had mistakenly only booked their bus until Greymouth for some people just starting a week-long pass from Christchurch who had shuttled over while we inhaled bone fragments.
My intelligence had informed me that I could find a stuffed toy Kakapo at a sanctuary here in Greymouth (this was a coveted souvenier for Cat and I), and between getting my glasses adjusted and finding some chow I set off in search of the elusive bird.
Alas, my efforts came up short and the search continued.
I had a tasty quiche and ice cream in a meal that was themed a radioactive orange colour at the local hotel before meeting up with the others to continue the journey.
There was a big rugby match in town that day, but we were unable to spectate as it was too late in the day. Shucks.
Sadly one of the people departing in Greymouth was a Dutch lad named Rene who I had stunt planed and bone carved with, but these departures were a part of the journey and had become a more optomistic occasion as the trip progressed. He did leave me with the newfound desire to bungy jump, though, something I followed through on in Queenstown (more on that later).
Off to rainy Franz Josef, a quaint little town sandwiched between a glacier and a mountain, with little in the way of exciting architecture but lots of excitement in the way of glacier hikes and cheap pub food.
As my ankle was still a little sore and the hike was expensive, I decided to pass on the icy climb scheduled for the next day, and put off my exploration of the township until then.
The cheap pizza meal was welcomed gladly in the nice hostel pub, and the remainder of the night was spent there getting to know some of the new travellers, namely a couple of wee North Irish lasses called Fionnuala (Finn-uw-lah) and Emma (Emm-ah) who I would travel with for the next few days.
It was a reasonably early night for most as the next day would be an early start, and I followed suit, looking forward to a day of taking it easy.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
What Happens in Vegas... - Marahau to Barrytown (AKA Baz Vegas)
Awakening far too early and quite sore from the busy day before, much of the trip from Marahau to Barrytown was spent asleep.
It was slightly sad leaving Abel Tasman after all of the excitement, but the tiny town of Barry was one of the more anticipated stops on the journey, so anticipation prevailed.
The reason wee Barrytown was so exciting was because of the carving that takes place there. You can make your own knife, carve bones, carve jade, and then subdue your foes with the furits of your labour.
I was disheartened to learn that making a knife was an all-day affair and would require spending an extra night that I didn't have in order to do it. However, Barrytown or Baz Vegas is a legendary stop on the Stray bus for other reasons. The accommodation is out back of the central pub, and while the facilities are quaint, there is a substantial costume room and cheap booze to keep interesting things happening.
I should point out that I had a rather eloquent post all typed out for this leg of the journey, but the interwebs nom'd it all down, so I'm afraid it's the silver medal version.
Heading into Barrytown we had a cheap meal option - a tasty burger with fries and a beer for only $12 - choice!
After that it was a wee wonder around the shop for some social munching of vegetables, playing with the hostel kitty, and catching up on my painfully neglected journal.
All this lasted into the night and about 10 there seemed to be no sign of drunken rowdiness.
Just as all hope seemed to be lost, some of our young Dutch friends appeared in skirts and oversized sunglasses, beckoning us to join. Theatre background: engage!
However, just as I headed back to my room to stash my notebook, I was met with a contrary sight. All five of my bunkmates were in bed reading and writing. Feeling a little sleepy, I sat down for half a second.
10 hours later, it was time to wake up and carve some bones.
It was slightly sad leaving Abel Tasman after all of the excitement, but the tiny town of Barry was one of the more anticipated stops on the journey, so anticipation prevailed.
The reason wee Barrytown was so exciting was because of the carving that takes place there. You can make your own knife, carve bones, carve jade, and then subdue your foes with the furits of your labour.
I was disheartened to learn that making a knife was an all-day affair and would require spending an extra night that I didn't have in order to do it. However, Barrytown or Baz Vegas is a legendary stop on the Stray bus for other reasons. The accommodation is out back of the central pub, and while the facilities are quaint, there is a substantial costume room and cheap booze to keep interesting things happening.
I should point out that I had a rather eloquent post all typed out for this leg of the journey, but the interwebs nom'd it all down, so I'm afraid it's the silver medal version.
Heading into Barrytown we had a cheap meal option - a tasty burger with fries and a beer for only $12 - choice!
After that it was a wee wonder around the shop for some social munching of vegetables, playing with the hostel kitty, and catching up on my painfully neglected journal.
All this lasted into the night and about 10 there seemed to be no sign of drunken rowdiness.
Just as all hope seemed to be lost, some of our young Dutch friends appeared in skirts and oversized sunglasses, beckoning us to join. Theatre background: engage!
However, just as I headed back to my room to stash my notebook, I was met with a contrary sight. All five of my bunkmates were in bed reading and writing. Feeling a little sleepy, I sat down for half a second.
10 hours later, it was time to wake up and carve some bones.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Do a Barrel Roll! Part 2
So after the long and roasting trip to the island sanctuary, Davin and I rewarded ourselves with delicious ice cream and a quick stroll back to the hostel.
We had landed about 3:00ish to give me plenty of time to get ready for the 4:00 pickup for my next adventure: piloting a stunt plane!
I piled into the van with a group of six skydivers and a spectator and we were ushered 20 minutes up the road to Motueka airport. Once there I strode over to the hangar with the UFly Extreme: Pilot Your Own Stunt Plane signage to begin my anticipated hour or so of training.
Once inside, I was greeted by the pilot/instructor and his wife, the administrator of the mom and pop operation. We exchanged pleasantries and I suited up for the flight. "Good," I thought, "the training will be practical." as no training consoles were to be found.
Properly attired, I got a few snaps of me and the plane before being ushered up the step ladder and into the front seat of the Pitt Special. I looked inside to find not a large and flashy control panel, but four seatbelts and a joystick.
I slithered into the delicate aircraft and was fastened and ready for action within a minute or two. A quick rundown of the scant controls and we were ready to go. We were taking off within 10 minutes of my arrival.
A swift liftoff and less than 60 seconds passed before I was guiding the plane gently left and right into the white puffy clouds. As the reality of the situation kicked in I became awestruck by my surroundings. There, far below, was the entire island that had taken so long to kayak around, now pocket-sized and the Tasman Sea stretching far beyond that.
After an incredible look around, I was being guided through the barrel roll. Stunningly simple, the 15 minutes in the air rushed by in a series of loop-de-loops, cuban-8s, four-point rolls and surreal gasps of amazement.
I was walking on air for the rest of the day, and the pilot and his wife even drove me back to the hostel, regailing me with stories of their business and stopping to offer me a beer with my dinner of mussel burger from Fat Tui.
The experience was absolutely unbelievable and I am still at a loss for words to describe it.
My offering in place of a poetic description is the video located here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvZQXAqj2iU
A small sample of the full-length DVD that is in the mail to comemorate my flight.
One final note - the DVD accompanies a certificate with my name and signatures of the owners, very similar to the Zorbonaut license, except that the 15 minutes I put in with the Pitt Special actually counts towards the practical hours of a pilot's license. Official flying lesson: check!
We had landed about 3:00ish to give me plenty of time to get ready for the 4:00 pickup for my next adventure: piloting a stunt plane!
I piled into the van with a group of six skydivers and a spectator and we were ushered 20 minutes up the road to Motueka airport. Once there I strode over to the hangar with the UFly Extreme: Pilot Your Own Stunt Plane signage to begin my anticipated hour or so of training.
Once inside, I was greeted by the pilot/instructor and his wife, the administrator of the mom and pop operation. We exchanged pleasantries and I suited up for the flight. "Good," I thought, "the training will be practical." as no training consoles were to be found.
Properly attired, I got a few snaps of me and the plane before being ushered up the step ladder and into the front seat of the Pitt Special. I looked inside to find not a large and flashy control panel, but four seatbelts and a joystick.
I slithered into the delicate aircraft and was fastened and ready for action within a minute or two. A quick rundown of the scant controls and we were ready to go. We were taking off within 10 minutes of my arrival.
A swift liftoff and less than 60 seconds passed before I was guiding the plane gently left and right into the white puffy clouds. As the reality of the situation kicked in I became awestruck by my surroundings. There, far below, was the entire island that had taken so long to kayak around, now pocket-sized and the Tasman Sea stretching far beyond that.
After an incredible look around, I was being guided through the barrel roll. Stunningly simple, the 15 minutes in the air rushed by in a series of loop-de-loops, cuban-8s, four-point rolls and surreal gasps of amazement.
I was walking on air for the rest of the day, and the pilot and his wife even drove me back to the hostel, regailing me with stories of their business and stopping to offer me a beer with my dinner of mussel burger from Fat Tui.
The experience was absolutely unbelievable and I am still at a loss for words to describe it.
My offering in place of a poetic description is the video located here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvZQXAqj2iU
A small sample of the full-length DVD that is in the mail to comemorate my flight.
One final note - the DVD accompanies a certificate with my name and signatures of the owners, very similar to the Zorbonaut license, except that the 15 minutes I put in with the Pitt Special actually counts towards the practical hours of a pilot's license. Official flying lesson: check!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Do a Barrel Roll! - Marahau Day 2
This day was ridiculously awesome!
We awoke bright and early for Davin's and my 8:30 kayak trip.
Though neither of us had kayaked before, we decided it would be much better to rent a tandem kayak on our own for an exploration around the coast as opposed to a guided half-day or full-day trip. We were expecting a quick "Here is what you do if you flip over" lecture on how not to die and then a race to the ocean. Not so.
We were very wrong.
Following a near-three hour land and sea tutorial on everything kayak, we were finally released to go discover the nearby islands on our own. We were glad to finally get away, and made for Adele Island and its reported fur seal colonies and occasional blue penguin sightings.
This proved much more arduous than we had planned. It took an hour and a half to reach the island, but the weather and the views were spectacular enough to pass the time easily. It was after our packed lunch on the near shore of the island that the difficult part set in. We decided we had made enough headway to warrant a timely circumvention of the island from the surrounding waters before paddling with the wind gleefully back to shore.
The wind picked up at the Northern tip of the island and the waves grew larger and the terrain rockier. At times it felt like we were making no progress at all, and the increasing force of the waves against us made the situation unpleasant.
We battled hard and eventually crossed the northern bay where we had a rejuvenating encounter with some fur seals and an immense flock of local birds (no penguins this time).
We caught the wind coming back to shore and the crossing proved easy enough, though we were at a loss for where to land. We had departed at high tide and now the shallows of near low tide beaches changed the landscape considerably. After running aground twice about a hundred yards from shore, we made it to where we needed to be. Burnt, hungry, and sore, but I for one was glad for the experience.
Off to pilot a stunt plane! which deserves its own post to come.
We awoke bright and early for Davin's and my 8:30 kayak trip.
Though neither of us had kayaked before, we decided it would be much better to rent a tandem kayak on our own for an exploration around the coast as opposed to a guided half-day or full-day trip. We were expecting a quick "Here is what you do if you flip over" lecture on how not to die and then a race to the ocean. Not so.
We were very wrong.
Following a near-three hour land and sea tutorial on everything kayak, we were finally released to go discover the nearby islands on our own. We were glad to finally get away, and made for Adele Island and its reported fur seal colonies and occasional blue penguin sightings.
This proved much more arduous than we had planned. It took an hour and a half to reach the island, but the weather and the views were spectacular enough to pass the time easily. It was after our packed lunch on the near shore of the island that the difficult part set in. We decided we had made enough headway to warrant a timely circumvention of the island from the surrounding waters before paddling with the wind gleefully back to shore.
The wind picked up at the Northern tip of the island and the waves grew larger and the terrain rockier. At times it felt like we were making no progress at all, and the increasing force of the waves against us made the situation unpleasant.
We battled hard and eventually crossed the northern bay where we had a rejuvenating encounter with some fur seals and an immense flock of local birds (no penguins this time).
We caught the wind coming back to shore and the crossing proved easy enough, though we were at a loss for where to land. We had departed at high tide and now the shallows of near low tide beaches changed the landscape considerably. After running aground twice about a hundred yards from shore, we made it to where we needed to be. Burnt, hungry, and sore, but I for one was glad for the experience.
Off to pilot a stunt plane! which deserves its own post to come.
BlueBridge Ferry and English Lessons - Wellington to Marahau
Setting forth in the early morn from Wellington, my new mates Curtis, Astrid, Anika, Davin and I were among the first in line for the early morning BlueBridge Ferry across the Cook Strait.
After tee-heeing at the coicidental firm titles, the ferry journey took a turn for the worse, as the winds from the world's windiest city made for a ferry ride too bumpy for my stomach.
I eventually resigned myself to sleep and woke up just in time for a chocolate delicassy and a view of the South Island under a newly-clearing sky. A few photo snaps and we landed in Picton.
Not much to do there but wait for our new bus - Anna the Bus! - and head on out for Nelson.
The clearing sky brought a strong summer sun and 40 warm bodies under 31 degree heat proved a bit much for our new friend Anna the Bus, as we needed to stop at a turnoff before climbing the final hill into Nelson. Many passers-by honked for approval or rage or funsies until a Magic Bus finally pulled over to see what was the matter. Plenty of time to let the engine cool down and an unconventional start in reverse and we were back on the road, shaky in confidence about our new transportation.
During the last third of the ferry ride - the conscious part - I met a lady from Germany named Mel. Mel was in New Zealand for a fun trip and to work on her fledgling English skills. She and I agreed that I would help her learn English in return for a few pointers on my German. I had a bus buddy for the better part of the next week, and while the German lessons were on the back-burner, Mel showed steady progress, and I helped her complete her first full English-language phone conversation today with a booking agent in Wanaka. Yay!
Nelson was a drop spot for a few of our travelmates, including Bart, the middle-aged Dutch fellow who had been our chief for the Haka in Maketu and was the last person from the original gang of 39 that departed with Curry and I from Auckland the previous Thursday. A fresh slate of faces all around, though the four companions from the museum and my new pupil seemed to gel together rather quickly.
Last stop before Marahau in Abel Tasman National Park was a New World supermarket in Motueka. An hour to scrounge for 3 days worth of food and hop back on the bus for the final leg of the day's journey... That is, if both of Anna's batteries hadn't died in the parking lot.
$40 per person worth of meat, pasta, and perishables simmering quietly on the tarmac and a half bus load of young men to push while the ladies took pictures. All for naught.
After calling in for backup batteries, we finally made it, late and hungry, to Marahau. Davin and I had decided to do a morning Kayak trip before I was off to pilot a stunt plane back at Motueka airport. All well and good, but as the trip would be an early start, we had to check in and pay the night before. All of Anna's problems meant we kept a grumpy kayak rental staff up past their bedtimes.
Speaking of bed, a feast of corn and chicken with mussels at The Barn hostel preceded entering the strangest dorm of the trip. The dorm was in an open-concept main floor building, smack in the middle and under the stairs, with eight beds set up coffin-style set into the woodwork of the near wall. Each person had a curtain to protect themselves and their valuables, and not much else as there were no locks or keys on the doors, and even the communal computers were lefte exposed to the night air. An odd accommodation to be sure, but most of us were too tired to complain about it. We met an Irishman named Kevin in our communal kitchen after re-packing our supplies and a quick snack did the trick to send us all to dreamland.
After tee-heeing at the coicidental firm titles, the ferry journey took a turn for the worse, as the winds from the world's windiest city made for a ferry ride too bumpy for my stomach.
I eventually resigned myself to sleep and woke up just in time for a chocolate delicassy and a view of the South Island under a newly-clearing sky. A few photo snaps and we landed in Picton.
Not much to do there but wait for our new bus - Anna the Bus! - and head on out for Nelson.
The clearing sky brought a strong summer sun and 40 warm bodies under 31 degree heat proved a bit much for our new friend Anna the Bus, as we needed to stop at a turnoff before climbing the final hill into Nelson. Many passers-by honked for approval or rage or funsies until a Magic Bus finally pulled over to see what was the matter. Plenty of time to let the engine cool down and an unconventional start in reverse and we were back on the road, shaky in confidence about our new transportation.
During the last third of the ferry ride - the conscious part - I met a lady from Germany named Mel. Mel was in New Zealand for a fun trip and to work on her fledgling English skills. She and I agreed that I would help her learn English in return for a few pointers on my German. I had a bus buddy for the better part of the next week, and while the German lessons were on the back-burner, Mel showed steady progress, and I helped her complete her first full English-language phone conversation today with a booking agent in Wanaka. Yay!
Nelson was a drop spot for a few of our travelmates, including Bart, the middle-aged Dutch fellow who had been our chief for the Haka in Maketu and was the last person from the original gang of 39 that departed with Curry and I from Auckland the previous Thursday. A fresh slate of faces all around, though the four companions from the museum and my new pupil seemed to gel together rather quickly.
Last stop before Marahau in Abel Tasman National Park was a New World supermarket in Motueka. An hour to scrounge for 3 days worth of food and hop back on the bus for the final leg of the day's journey... That is, if both of Anna's batteries hadn't died in the parking lot.
$40 per person worth of meat, pasta, and perishables simmering quietly on the tarmac and a half bus load of young men to push while the ladies took pictures. All for naught.
After calling in for backup batteries, we finally made it, late and hungry, to Marahau. Davin and I had decided to do a morning Kayak trip before I was off to pilot a stunt plane back at Motueka airport. All well and good, but as the trip would be an early start, we had to check in and pay the night before. All of Anna's problems meant we kept a grumpy kayak rental staff up past their bedtimes.
Speaking of bed, a feast of corn and chicken with mussels at The Barn hostel preceded entering the strangest dorm of the trip. The dorm was in an open-concept main floor building, smack in the middle and under the stairs, with eight beds set up coffin-style set into the woodwork of the near wall. Each person had a curtain to protect themselves and their valuables, and not much else as there were no locks or keys on the doors, and even the communal computers were lefte exposed to the night air. An odd accommodation to be sure, but most of us were too tired to complain about it. We met an Irishman named Kevin in our communal kitchen after re-packing our supplies and a quick snack did the trick to send us all to dreamland.
Windy Wellywood and "Heat" - National Park to Wellington
From rainy Taupo we hit the road for the capitol city of Wellington. The day was long and started out rainy, but my decision to don full jeans was folly as the day grew hot and humid.
We left Lauren, Howard, and Luis in National Park, so my second group of travel companions dissolved all at once as well.
However, a couple of brief conversations at National Park led me to meet Curtis from Edmonton and two English lasses, Lucy and Thea.
In Wellington we were all fairly spread out in the hostel department, and I took advantage of the YHA membership card in my pocket to save some bucks, but this also left me apart from the Stray crew entirely.
I was relieved to find friendly staff and lockers in the hostel, and the girl behind the desk was quick to reccommend some local theatre, which was not hard to find in the country's cultural epicentre.
I got the tip to check out a show called "Heat" at the Circa Theatre - a show about featuring a man playing a penguin. Theatre and penguins? Yes, please!
After check in I swung by the Base hostel to arrange transport to the ferry in the morning and met up with Curtis and his band of misfits en route to Te Papa - the national museum.
Being that New Zealand is awesome, almost all museums and galleries here are free. This left some dough for the reasonably priced production of Heat that was to take place right next door to the museum.
We had arranged to meet Thea and Lucy at the museum, and an aerobic four jaunts up and down the various levels of the six-storey museum yielded no sign of them. I haven't seen them since, and as they are on a more flexible travel schedule than I am, I doubt I will, but safe travels to them both.
The others from Base, however, were as intrigued by the museum as I was and the walks through the natural elements exhibit, local flora and fauna, Biosecurity interactive display, and Kakapo breeding wall allowed me plenty of time to acquaint myself with Curtis, Davin (a stage manager from Blackpool), Astrid (from Ontario), and Anika (from Italy). The ladies went through the fashion exhibit while the lads closed the trip with a gallery of Brian Brake's photographs. Sadly there were no Kakapos in the gift shop (the search continues).
After the museum we had time to munch on butter chicken from an Indian restaurant before a quick trip to the ATM to fill up on cash. So much for my budget.
After that I headed out in search of the theatre, and for the first time on my trip I felt uneasy about my surroundings. Perhaps it was the gloomy weather, the big city, the wad of cash on my person or the echoed words of Uncle Boy from Maketu, but being at the theatre ridiculously early sounded far preferable to exploring the streets on my own in the evening.
While waiting for the performance to begin I read up a bit on what I was about to see. The show "Heat" was a three-hander about a man and a woman in an Antarctic observatory for six months and how a rejected emperor penguin (played by a nude man covered in elaborate body paint) serves as a metaphor for the marital troubles arising from the loss of the couple's young son. The show featured the head of the Victoria University (NZ) theatre department, and was touted as the world's first solar and wind-powered theatrical production. The lights and sound equipment were all powered by generators stored in a modified shipping container beneath solar panels and wind instruments located behind the building.
Overall the production was a success. The acting was a little hard to get into at first, perhaps due to the cultural differences, but the portrayal of Bob the Penguin was marvellous and the climactic scene was handled sensitively where it could have easily been overdone. Sidenote- I've noticed from this show and conversations with fellow travellers how much more prudish we are in North America in terms of nudity, at least in terms of popular theatre and daytime TV.
I met a nice elderly gentleman called Graham at the show who happened to be visiting from Auckland and staying in the same hostel. We had a pleasant conversation about the arts on our tandem stroll back to the YHA.
After that it was time to grab some money and head to the backpacker bar for refreshments, mingling, and watching my fellow travellers stray from conventional behaviour (har har).
Had some drinks with Curry, Davin, and Curtis before calling it an early night.
We had an early departure the next morning on the Bluebridge Ferry.
We left Lauren, Howard, and Luis in National Park, so my second group of travel companions dissolved all at once as well.
However, a couple of brief conversations at National Park led me to meet Curtis from Edmonton and two English lasses, Lucy and Thea.
In Wellington we were all fairly spread out in the hostel department, and I took advantage of the YHA membership card in my pocket to save some bucks, but this also left me apart from the Stray crew entirely.
I was relieved to find friendly staff and lockers in the hostel, and the girl behind the desk was quick to reccommend some local theatre, which was not hard to find in the country's cultural epicentre.
I got the tip to check out a show called "Heat" at the Circa Theatre - a show about featuring a man playing a penguin. Theatre and penguins? Yes, please!
After check in I swung by the Base hostel to arrange transport to the ferry in the morning and met up with Curtis and his band of misfits en route to Te Papa - the national museum.
Being that New Zealand is awesome, almost all museums and galleries here are free. This left some dough for the reasonably priced production of Heat that was to take place right next door to the museum.
We had arranged to meet Thea and Lucy at the museum, and an aerobic four jaunts up and down the various levels of the six-storey museum yielded no sign of them. I haven't seen them since, and as they are on a more flexible travel schedule than I am, I doubt I will, but safe travels to them both.
The others from Base, however, were as intrigued by the museum as I was and the walks through the natural elements exhibit, local flora and fauna, Biosecurity interactive display, and Kakapo breeding wall allowed me plenty of time to acquaint myself with Curtis, Davin (a stage manager from Blackpool), Astrid (from Ontario), and Anika (from Italy). The ladies went through the fashion exhibit while the lads closed the trip with a gallery of Brian Brake's photographs. Sadly there were no Kakapos in the gift shop (the search continues).
After the museum we had time to munch on butter chicken from an Indian restaurant before a quick trip to the ATM to fill up on cash. So much for my budget.
After that I headed out in search of the theatre, and for the first time on my trip I felt uneasy about my surroundings. Perhaps it was the gloomy weather, the big city, the wad of cash on my person or the echoed words of Uncle Boy from Maketu, but being at the theatre ridiculously early sounded far preferable to exploring the streets on my own in the evening.
While waiting for the performance to begin I read up a bit on what I was about to see. The show "Heat" was a three-hander about a man and a woman in an Antarctic observatory for six months and how a rejected emperor penguin (played by a nude man covered in elaborate body paint) serves as a metaphor for the marital troubles arising from the loss of the couple's young son. The show featured the head of the Victoria University (NZ) theatre department, and was touted as the world's first solar and wind-powered theatrical production. The lights and sound equipment were all powered by generators stored in a modified shipping container beneath solar panels and wind instruments located behind the building.
Overall the production was a success. The acting was a little hard to get into at first, perhaps due to the cultural differences, but the portrayal of Bob the Penguin was marvellous and the climactic scene was handled sensitively where it could have easily been overdone. Sidenote- I've noticed from this show and conversations with fellow travellers how much more prudish we are in North America in terms of nudity, at least in terms of popular theatre and daytime TV.
I met a nice elderly gentleman called Graham at the show who happened to be visiting from Auckland and staying in the same hostel. We had a pleasant conversation about the arts on our tandem stroll back to the YHA.
After that it was time to grab some money and head to the backpacker bar for refreshments, mingling, and watching my fellow travellers stray from conventional behaviour (har har).
Had some drinks with Curry, Davin, and Curtis before calling it an early night.
We had an early departure the next morning on the Bluebridge Ferry.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
The Foggiest Day Hike in New Zealand - Taupo to National Park
Hey Team!
So before I continue with the narrative, I think it should be known that I spent yesterday afternoon PILOTING A STUNT PLANE! (sorry Mom) It was the greatest thing ever!! My head is still spinning, though that may be the dehydration. I will detail more later.
But where were we?
Ah yes, the departure from Taupo was grand. A very sleepy Darcy wanted to go to bed at 11:30. But oh no! It was our last night with Olaf, so celebrations were most definitely in order! We joined Lauren and Luis for drinks, darts and a jam that made for great nights and far too early mornings.
The next day (3 hours of sleep later) we were to set out for National Park and the Tongariro Crossing - New Zealand's Best Day Hike. But it was pissing rain. Sad face because I had been getting stoked to see Mt. Doom and get some exercise, but not too sad because we got to cool off and my ankle was grateful not to trek 20 kilometres. (I have also ducked out of the Franz Josef Glacier full day hike on the 6th so as to not injure myself and save a bit of coin.) The furtherst walking I did that day in the park was from the hostel to the shop, 300 trying metres away.
Other than that it was picture saving, e-mailing, and some good old fashioned hot tubbing with Luis and a French couple while discussing the meaning of life and society amidst jets of heavenly water.
A couple of rounds of a game called "Stacking Chairs" with some English girls and it was time to call it a night. A well-deserved rest.
So before I continue with the narrative, I think it should be known that I spent yesterday afternoon PILOTING A STUNT PLANE! (sorry Mom) It was the greatest thing ever!! My head is still spinning, though that may be the dehydration. I will detail more later.
But where were we?
Ah yes, the departure from Taupo was grand. A very sleepy Darcy wanted to go to bed at 11:30. But oh no! It was our last night with Olaf, so celebrations were most definitely in order! We joined Lauren and Luis for drinks, darts and a jam that made for great nights and far too early mornings.
The next day (3 hours of sleep later) we were to set out for National Park and the Tongariro Crossing - New Zealand's Best Day Hike. But it was pissing rain. Sad face because I had been getting stoked to see Mt. Doom and get some exercise, but not too sad because we got to cool off and my ankle was grateful not to trek 20 kilometres. (I have also ducked out of the Franz Josef Glacier full day hike on the 6th so as to not injure myself and save a bit of coin.) The furtherst walking I did that day in the park was from the hostel to the shop, 300 trying metres away.
Other than that it was picture saving, e-mailing, and some good old fashioned hot tubbing with Luis and a French couple while discussing the meaning of life and society amidst jets of heavenly water.
A couple of rounds of a game called "Stacking Chairs" with some English girls and it was time to call it a night. A well-deserved rest.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Water, water, everywhere/Hell yeah - Maketu to Tauop
Today was the happiest and saddest day of the trip.
The early morning saw most of the travellers snooze all the way to Rotorua, where the day's theme of water got into full swing.
We had begun in the still-drenched area of Maketu where cow pastures became swamps following Wilma's rage. Rotorua was a much-anticipated stop as the Zorb was on the docket. Hugh, Dane and I crammed into a Zorb in our swimmers (no homo) for some down hill wet and wild fun before scurrying off to town for the departure of the bus. As it was Sunday, bus service was limited, but thankfully Curry waited for us.
Now for the sad bit. As Stray piled on the massive deals that got me on the bus in the first place, the savings continued and Claire, Sarah, Dane and Hugh all added on a 'Go East' pass that saw them depart in Rotorua. The biggest goodbye so far was had, but it was bittersweet as Taupo held the promise of a 60 second freefall after jumping out of a plane.
Taupo quickly gained legendary status as the small but chill town offered the experience of a lifetime. Skydive Taupo gave me the opportunity to descend from 15000 feet and live to tell the tale. As the DVD of the occasion (video to come) attests, I now feel it is something everyone should do. Everywhere you looked was a postcard for New Zealand and the massive body of water below (Singapore-sized Lake Taupo) made it all the more magical. I can't describe it better than that as words and pictures still do not do justice to the experience. Had to go full board with the souvies here as this was something that if it was to be done, it was to be done right. I'd go again tomorrow.
After a lift back in a limosine, German friend Olaf and I hobbled down to a marvelous sunset in the township, followed by a long and boozed goodbye party at the local pub, complete with jam session with the locals and an American.
Slept like a baby before an early morning, of which I will divulge more details at a later time.
Goodnight, world!
The early morning saw most of the travellers snooze all the way to Rotorua, where the day's theme of water got into full swing.
We had begun in the still-drenched area of Maketu where cow pastures became swamps following Wilma's rage. Rotorua was a much-anticipated stop as the Zorb was on the docket. Hugh, Dane and I crammed into a Zorb in our swimmers (no homo) for some down hill wet and wild fun before scurrying off to town for the departure of the bus. As it was Sunday, bus service was limited, but thankfully Curry waited for us.
Now for the sad bit. As Stray piled on the massive deals that got me on the bus in the first place, the savings continued and Claire, Sarah, Dane and Hugh all added on a 'Go East' pass that saw them depart in Rotorua. The biggest goodbye so far was had, but it was bittersweet as Taupo held the promise of a 60 second freefall after jumping out of a plane.
Taupo quickly gained legendary status as the small but chill town offered the experience of a lifetime. Skydive Taupo gave me the opportunity to descend from 15000 feet and live to tell the tale. As the DVD of the occasion (video to come) attests, I now feel it is something everyone should do. Everywhere you looked was a postcard for New Zealand and the massive body of water below (Singapore-sized Lake Taupo) made it all the more magical. I can't describe it better than that as words and pictures still do not do justice to the experience. Had to go full board with the souvies here as this was something that if it was to be done, it was to be done right. I'd go again tomorrow.
After a lift back in a limosine, German friend Olaf and I hobbled down to a marvelous sunset in the township, followed by a long and boozed goodbye party at the local pub, complete with jam session with the locals and an American.
Slept like a baby before an early morning, of which I will divulge more details at a later time.
Goodnight, world!
Kia Ora - Raglan to Uncle Boy's (Maketu)
Hey team!
So I'm still behind, but let's pick up where we left off.
Raglan's evening was the first night of terrible weather we've had. Cyclone Wilma made an appearance and it pissed rain all night and into the morning. We were lucky enough to get away and stay on course and on schedule, though busses stranded in Hahei were not so lucky.
The morning was cloudy and jeansworthy, for which my sunburns were glad.
The day's mission was to head to Uncle Boy's for a Maori cultural show, and it was a worthwhile endeavour. The Haka for the lads and Poi for the lasses meant performance time for all, fueled by a "traditional" meal (the hangi is usually steamed in a hole in the ground, but politcal correctness forbids such a thing) and plenty of booze.
The Haka was really fun and the evening afterwards was spent getting some quality time with Hugh from Ireland, and Sarah, Dane and Claire from the UK over the most booze I've consumed on the trip.
We had tunes, noms, and good convos on our way to far too late a bedtime for far too early a wake-up.
We stayed up late with an unsuccessful attempt at a beach fire and a noticable appearance by my limp that was unhospitably acquired while surfing the day before.
The lot of us stayed in one giant room and surprisingly enough, we all seemed to sleep reasonably well.
Uncle Boy's was a good time and lots of cultural pics to follow, though I still get the impression that teaching the Haka to outsiders is frowned upon in deep Maori country.
In any case, I made good friends that night and slept like a baby because of it.
So I'm still behind, but let's pick up where we left off.
Raglan's evening was the first night of terrible weather we've had. Cyclone Wilma made an appearance and it pissed rain all night and into the morning. We were lucky enough to get away and stay on course and on schedule, though busses stranded in Hahei were not so lucky.
The morning was cloudy and jeansworthy, for which my sunburns were glad.
The day's mission was to head to Uncle Boy's for a Maori cultural show, and it was a worthwhile endeavour. The Haka for the lads and Poi for the lasses meant performance time for all, fueled by a "traditional" meal (the hangi is usually steamed in a hole in the ground, but politcal correctness forbids such a thing) and plenty of booze.
The Haka was really fun and the evening afterwards was spent getting some quality time with Hugh from Ireland, and Sarah, Dane and Claire from the UK over the most booze I've consumed on the trip.
We had tunes, noms, and good convos on our way to far too late a bedtime for far too early a wake-up.
We stayed up late with an unsuccessful attempt at a beach fire and a noticable appearance by my limp that was unhospitably acquired while surfing the day before.
The lot of us stayed in one giant room and surprisingly enough, we all seemed to sleep reasonably well.
Uncle Boy's was a good time and lots of cultural pics to follow, though I still get the impression that teaching the Haka to outsiders is frowned upon in deep Maori country.
In any case, I made good friends that night and slept like a baby because of it.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Best 2 Seconds of the Day - Hahei to Raglan
After a sweltering day with hot travellers-on-beach action, we boarded the bus (named Mr. T) headed for Raglan. The mission: Learn to surf. The poor bugger put in charge of getting Darcy on his feet: Mark from Ireland.
So off to Raglan with every second spent building up excitement for surfing!
We got in at midafternoon and had a long ass check in before finding our beds, dropping all non surf-related materials and heading down to the shed for a dry run. Mark had 8 hopefuls to contend with and was a very supportive presence for us first-timers.
After scraping up on the concrete for 45 minutes it was down to the beach for super sexy wetsuits and nerf surf boards. Hitting the waves is an extremely apt phrase for the first forray, as the majority of time was spent being jolted back on to one's bottom trying to get out deep enough to actually surf. Frustration set in after 30 or 40 minutes but finding that counter-productive, I tried to readjust my attitude and remind myself that this was supposed to happen.
1 hour and 45 minutes into the wet part of the lesson (aka the 3rd to last wave) the heavens smiled upon me. I caught a brilliant wave and in spite of myself managed to raise to a karate-style stance on the board for what I'm optimistically calling a full two seconds. It was all worth it after that, and some cold beers were in order.
Played cards with Jo from the Netherlands and others long into the night and was rested and refreshed for a full day on the bus.
So off to Raglan with every second spent building up excitement for surfing!
We got in at midafternoon and had a long ass check in before finding our beds, dropping all non surf-related materials and heading down to the shed for a dry run. Mark had 8 hopefuls to contend with and was a very supportive presence for us first-timers.
After scraping up on the concrete for 45 minutes it was down to the beach for super sexy wetsuits and nerf surf boards. Hitting the waves is an extremely apt phrase for the first forray, as the majority of time was spent being jolted back on to one's bottom trying to get out deep enough to actually surf. Frustration set in after 30 or 40 minutes but finding that counter-productive, I tried to readjust my attitude and remind myself that this was supposed to happen.
1 hour and 45 minutes into the wet part of the lesson (aka the 3rd to last wave) the heavens smiled upon me. I caught a brilliant wave and in spite of myself managed to raise to a karate-style stance on the board for what I'm optimistically calling a full two seconds. It was all worth it after that, and some cold beers were in order.
Played cards with Jo from the Netherlands and others long into the night and was rested and refreshed for a full day on the bus.
Stray't Into It - Auckland to Hahei
It's been awhile since my last post but I have been busy bussing around the North Island and generally having the time of my life. The previous Haka and Poi videos were taken at our Maori cultural overnight stop at Uncle Boy's and posted first so that my fellow travellers could post our exploits around the interwebs.
To continue the narrative...
Late night boozing in Auckland was stopped short when my Canadian ID was shot down at "Mink Coat." Tossers. Apparently I looked like someone who had caused trouble previously and they wanted nothing to do with me.
The others went inside and I strolled on down Queen Street back to the hostel where I met two Canadian girls named Megan and Kyla from Edmonton. They were being courted by an intoxicated Englishman called Anton with little success. We all had a good chat and it seemed the ladies from the great white north went through school at the same time that I did, three hours up the road.
After those folks headed to bed and I posted the last narrative, I sat down with Philip from England for a long and enjoyable discussion about human behaviour, fitness, film, sport, and the folly of humanity. Very enjoyable and a saving grace for the cock up at the club.
Tobi joined us, returning from another pub (we had left him alone with the Dutch girl for some private travelplanning) and we all hit the hay around 3:30am. 4 hours later it was time for the Stray bus.
James, who hadn't slept, and I trekked up a hill something akin to Caddy Bay's road to ruin before meeting the bus.
Our driver's name is Curry and she's pretty cool. She gets us from A to B without fuss and makes sure we get pumped on activities.
Day one we set off to Hahei for some beach time, which seemed to hop out of a painting and into reality. White sand beaches, crashing waves, and the clearest water since Vernon. Pics to follow.
It was a bit of a bush hike to get to Cathedral Cove, which afforded time to better get to know James, Luis from Mexico, and Dane, Leigh, Caroline, Sarah and Claire from England.
Good times had by all, pounding through the waves and swimming to a rock that was made to be leapt off of. Leigh had a bit of a scrape, but otherwise the first day made me question already when I could come back.
Back at the hostel for tasty BBQ and more introductions to the lads and lasses. Hugh and I went halves on an 18 pack of Tui which was supposed to last 3 days. It was gone by noon the next day. Also, James, if you're reading this, you owe me two cold ones.
Luis' birthday fell that day as well, Katrin (from Denmark) had hers the next day, and Dane the day after that. No need to look for an excuse to celebrate.
To continue the narrative...
Late night boozing in Auckland was stopped short when my Canadian ID was shot down at "Mink Coat." Tossers. Apparently I looked like someone who had caused trouble previously and they wanted nothing to do with me.
The others went inside and I strolled on down Queen Street back to the hostel where I met two Canadian girls named Megan and Kyla from Edmonton. They were being courted by an intoxicated Englishman called Anton with little success. We all had a good chat and it seemed the ladies from the great white north went through school at the same time that I did, three hours up the road.
After those folks headed to bed and I posted the last narrative, I sat down with Philip from England for a long and enjoyable discussion about human behaviour, fitness, film, sport, and the folly of humanity. Very enjoyable and a saving grace for the cock up at the club.
Tobi joined us, returning from another pub (we had left him alone with the Dutch girl for some private travelplanning) and we all hit the hay around 3:30am. 4 hours later it was time for the Stray bus.
James, who hadn't slept, and I trekked up a hill something akin to Caddy Bay's road to ruin before meeting the bus.
Our driver's name is Curry and she's pretty cool. She gets us from A to B without fuss and makes sure we get pumped on activities.
Day one we set off to Hahei for some beach time, which seemed to hop out of a painting and into reality. White sand beaches, crashing waves, and the clearest water since Vernon. Pics to follow.
It was a bit of a bush hike to get to Cathedral Cove, which afforded time to better get to know James, Luis from Mexico, and Dane, Leigh, Caroline, Sarah and Claire from England.
Good times had by all, pounding through the waves and swimming to a rock that was made to be leapt off of. Leigh had a bit of a scrape, but otherwise the first day made me question already when I could come back.
Back at the hostel for tasty BBQ and more introductions to the lads and lasses. Hugh and I went halves on an 18 pack of Tui which was supposed to last 3 days. It was gone by noon the next day. Also, James, if you're reading this, you owe me two cold ones.
Luis' birthday fell that day as well, Katrin (from Denmark) had hers the next day, and Dane the day after that. No need to look for an excuse to celebrate.
And Now, the Poi!
Here it is, for your viewing and reminiscing pleasure! The ladies of Stray present: the Poi!
Video by yours truly.
Video by yours truly.
The Haka!
Hello boys and girls! Here it is, the much-anticipated Gentlemen of Stray and their world-famous Haka! Video by Lauren S. from Canada.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Yatta! Part 3 - Shark Bait
Adventure intervenes!
So, a busy day in the land of the Kiwis.
From last night's walk around, Tobi, Robert and I found a street performer in a wheelchair singing GreenDay's "When I Come Around" with some proficiency. He also directed us to cheap pizza and cheap beer.
After enjoying a bit of both, we hit up the central student bar for pool on a crooked table and dirt cheap import beer. A good time all in all, but not the rager we were expecting.
A viewing of "The Hurt Locker" back at the hostel and a nice long sleep before today's big sojourn.
I had planned to go to Rangitoto (a volcanic island) for some sightseeing and a quick hike. Laziness and indecisiveness trumped that plan, and I was left to redesign my day.
I ran into Robert who went with me and a French man named Victor to a corner coffee shop to discuss smoking (which everyone does here) and girls and life and love. Toward the end of the conversation I mentioned going to an aquarium and penguin exhibit (!) called Kelly Tarlton's and managed to rope the two gentlemen and the long-slumbered Tobi into going on a cage dive with me into a pool full of sharks. Sweet as. I definitely reccommend it. A little pricey, but it included admission to the facility, a backstage tour complete with turtles, and a half hour in the cage. The highlight so far for sure.
After that we took a stroll and found some Subway downtown, before picking up some beer for a long drunken night with another German, a Brazilian girl, a Dutch girl, an Irishman named James who will be joining me on the Stray tour starting tomorrow, and myself, culminating in being denied access to a club and meting my first other Canadians of the trip.
More on that later.
So, a busy day in the land of the Kiwis.
From last night's walk around, Tobi, Robert and I found a street performer in a wheelchair singing GreenDay's "When I Come Around" with some proficiency. He also directed us to cheap pizza and cheap beer.
After enjoying a bit of both, we hit up the central student bar for pool on a crooked table and dirt cheap import beer. A good time all in all, but not the rager we were expecting.
A viewing of "The Hurt Locker" back at the hostel and a nice long sleep before today's big sojourn.
I had planned to go to Rangitoto (a volcanic island) for some sightseeing and a quick hike. Laziness and indecisiveness trumped that plan, and I was left to redesign my day.
I ran into Robert who went with me and a French man named Victor to a corner coffee shop to discuss smoking (which everyone does here) and girls and life and love. Toward the end of the conversation I mentioned going to an aquarium and penguin exhibit (!) called Kelly Tarlton's and managed to rope the two gentlemen and the long-slumbered Tobi into going on a cage dive with me into a pool full of sharks. Sweet as. I definitely reccommend it. A little pricey, but it included admission to the facility, a backstage tour complete with turtles, and a half hour in the cage. The highlight so far for sure.
After that we took a stroll and found some Subway downtown, before picking up some beer for a long drunken night with another German, a Brazilian girl, a Dutch girl, an Irishman named James who will be joining me on the Stray tour starting tomorrow, and myself, culminating in being denied access to a club and meting my first other Canadians of the trip.
More on that later.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Yatta! Part 2
Kia Ora!
Hello again from NZ! Day 2 and still alive.
Where was I?
LAX: After departing from my New Mexico themed table and watching the Jets lose, I stumbled around the International Connections terminal in search of treasure.
I had hoped being in the US in a massive airport would allow me to find and purchase a case for my Kindle, but alas, no such luck. Instead it was two overpriced Clif bars and a few hours of sitting by the gate reading.
The delightfully Kiwi staff made a few announcements before we boarded, including one informing us lucky passengers that our aircraft was brand new and this was to be its third commercial flight (my thoughts were somewhere between "ooooooh!" and the Titanic).
We boarded the flying Hilton right on schedule, and every one of the 68 rows was packed full. Sitting down to my complimentary pillow, blanket and headphones, I examined the entertainment system: basically an iPad latched into the seat in front of me with its own private remote control, on the backside of which was a game controller for such time-passers as 5 a side football and the British "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" (turns out I would make a terrible British citizen).
The entertainment choices consisted of over 250 movies, 250 tv episodes, and about 150 different full albums to listen to, with the ability to customize a playlist including any of these in combination with the satellite radio. 11 hour flight, full season of How I Met Your Mother? Problem solved.
Dinner was braised beef, which was suprisingly palletable, washed down with two free beers (they were out of whiskey, so another can of kiwi brew was offered as compensation) and pineapple cake for dessert. Mmmmm.
After that most folks went to sleep. My body was filled with a slumber-fatal mixture of soreness, excitement, and faster-than-humanly-possible processed alcohol. Couple that with tantalizing entertainments and two toddlers the row behind me, and you get unsatisfactory sleep.
I had a chance to chat with my neighbours on the flight, an Australian education student named Victoria who was flying home from a vacay in the US of A, and a retired couple from North Carolina, all of whom were very nice.
By the time we were in the final third of the flight my body was screaming at me and the sleep-deprived, nervously excited mind was in agreement. Luckily a delicious breakfast was just what the doctor ordered and the final few hours of the flight were a breeze after that.
Saying goodbye to those around me, I headed for the terminal. Firstly, customs, which consisted of a spirited conversation with a Maori border guard about who would win the Stanley Cup (thank you, Canada hoodie). Then baggage screening and a few quick questions and it was up to the rigs of Auckland town.
A phone card and a bottle of L&P to go with the tourist ensemble, and I made the "I'm alive" phone calls to parents and Cat, which were very sweet.
Beyond that was a half-asleep bus ride from Auckland Airport to downtown, during which I was jerked awake by the horrified thought that we were on the wrong side of the road and about to die.
A quick jaunt through downtown to buy sandals and examine the theatre complex and it was back to the hostel. I was much too early for check in, but the lady behind the desk upgraded me to a 2-share instead of a dorm and I was able to sleep right away.
After my midday snooze I met my roommate, Tobi, who is halfway through a world-tour before returning to his native Germany. We went up to the sundeck to snack and chat and met a very nice Englishwoman named Julie and a middle-aged Danish couple named Lars and Olin, who plied me with fresh fruit, tea, and crisps while detailing the wonders of skydiving (both were fully lisenced).
After that it was a late evening stroll through downtown with Tobi, who has a penchant for street musicians, and Robert, another German, who is just ending the NZ leg of a massive world adventure as well.
More to come after these web-card top ups!
Hello again from NZ! Day 2 and still alive.
Where was I?
LAX: After departing from my New Mexico themed table and watching the Jets lose, I stumbled around the International Connections terminal in search of treasure.
I had hoped being in the US in a massive airport would allow me to find and purchase a case for my Kindle, but alas, no such luck. Instead it was two overpriced Clif bars and a few hours of sitting by the gate reading.
The delightfully Kiwi staff made a few announcements before we boarded, including one informing us lucky passengers that our aircraft was brand new and this was to be its third commercial flight (my thoughts were somewhere between "ooooooh!" and the Titanic).
We boarded the flying Hilton right on schedule, and every one of the 68 rows was packed full. Sitting down to my complimentary pillow, blanket and headphones, I examined the entertainment system: basically an iPad latched into the seat in front of me with its own private remote control, on the backside of which was a game controller for such time-passers as 5 a side football and the British "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?" (turns out I would make a terrible British citizen).
The entertainment choices consisted of over 250 movies, 250 tv episodes, and about 150 different full albums to listen to, with the ability to customize a playlist including any of these in combination with the satellite radio. 11 hour flight, full season of How I Met Your Mother? Problem solved.
Dinner was braised beef, which was suprisingly palletable, washed down with two free beers (they were out of whiskey, so another can of kiwi brew was offered as compensation) and pineapple cake for dessert. Mmmmm.
After that most folks went to sleep. My body was filled with a slumber-fatal mixture of soreness, excitement, and faster-than-humanly-possible processed alcohol. Couple that with tantalizing entertainments and two toddlers the row behind me, and you get unsatisfactory sleep.
I had a chance to chat with my neighbours on the flight, an Australian education student named Victoria who was flying home from a vacay in the US of A, and a retired couple from North Carolina, all of whom were very nice.
By the time we were in the final third of the flight my body was screaming at me and the sleep-deprived, nervously excited mind was in agreement. Luckily a delicious breakfast was just what the doctor ordered and the final few hours of the flight were a breeze after that.
Saying goodbye to those around me, I headed for the terminal. Firstly, customs, which consisted of a spirited conversation with a Maori border guard about who would win the Stanley Cup (thank you, Canada hoodie). Then baggage screening and a few quick questions and it was up to the rigs of Auckland town.
A phone card and a bottle of L&P to go with the tourist ensemble, and I made the "I'm alive" phone calls to parents and Cat, which were very sweet.
Beyond that was a half-asleep bus ride from Auckland Airport to downtown, during which I was jerked awake by the horrified thought that we were on the wrong side of the road and about to die.
A quick jaunt through downtown to buy sandals and examine the theatre complex and it was back to the hostel. I was much too early for check in, but the lady behind the desk upgraded me to a 2-share instead of a dorm and I was able to sleep right away.
After my midday snooze I met my roommate, Tobi, who is halfway through a world-tour before returning to his native Germany. We went up to the sundeck to snack and chat and met a very nice Englishwoman named Julie and a middle-aged Danish couple named Lars and Olin, who plied me with fresh fruit, tea, and crisps while detailing the wonders of skydiving (both were fully lisenced).
After that it was a late evening stroll through downtown with Tobi, who has a penchant for street musicians, and Robert, another German, who is just ending the NZ leg of a massive world adventure as well.
More to come after these web-card top ups!
Monday, January 24, 2011
Yatta! Part 1
Hello there, world!
I have arrived safe and sound in Auckland, New Zealand!
So far I've seen the roadside from the airport to downtown, parts of Queen Street, the steep-ass road leading up to the hostel, and the cool side of the hostel pillow for a power nap.
Where were we?
From Vancouver, the one-minute Singin in the Rain was fun and featured awkward dancing and bowling over fellow actors on my part. We booked it to the airport and I braced for impact from the infamous US customs officers.
Everything took less than half an hour to be processed, which left me happily underwhelmed by the Border Control folk. Time for food and watching the Bears/Packers game. Not too shabby!
The flight from Van to LA was almost empty, and for the most part uneventful. I tried to watch "The American," but slept through the bulk of it, a fact for which I shed no tears.
In LA, I had booked a flight with a 4-hour layover so as to give ample time for switching terminals, having my baggage scanned, a thorough strip-search, and whatever else they had in store for me.
Instead, I exited the plane from YVR, baggage in hand, going over my story, only to walk down a short hallway, turn left and be right at my gate to New Zealand. That was it.
3 1/2 hours to kill: time to live American.
I stopped at a place called "L.A. Roadhouse Route 66" for a giant burger, fries, and beer, with service from a delightfully American waitress named Nicole, who seemed to be working at the airport to reinforce international perception of LA waitresses. She was very nice and smiled, but had a no-BS attitude and was one small-talk agreement away from an "Mmmmmm-hmmmmmmmm."
Internet time is running out, so I'll update further later. Now it's time to take advantage of the hostel shower and kitchen. Nom.
I have arrived safe and sound in Auckland, New Zealand!
So far I've seen the roadside from the airport to downtown, parts of Queen Street, the steep-ass road leading up to the hostel, and the cool side of the hostel pillow for a power nap.
Where were we?
From Vancouver, the one-minute Singin in the Rain was fun and featured awkward dancing and bowling over fellow actors on my part. We booked it to the airport and I braced for impact from the infamous US customs officers.
Everything took less than half an hour to be processed, which left me happily underwhelmed by the Border Control folk. Time for food and watching the Bears/Packers game. Not too shabby!
The flight from Van to LA was almost empty, and for the most part uneventful. I tried to watch "The American," but slept through the bulk of it, a fact for which I shed no tears.
In LA, I had booked a flight with a 4-hour layover so as to give ample time for switching terminals, having my baggage scanned, a thorough strip-search, and whatever else they had in store for me.
Instead, I exited the plane from YVR, baggage in hand, going over my story, only to walk down a short hallway, turn left and be right at my gate to New Zealand. That was it.
3 1/2 hours to kill: time to live American.
I stopped at a place called "L.A. Roadhouse Route 66" for a giant burger, fries, and beer, with service from a delightfully American waitress named Nicole, who seemed to be working at the airport to reinforce international perception of LA waitresses. She was very nice and smiled, but had a no-BS attitude and was one small-talk agreement away from an "Mmmmmm-hmmmmmmmm."
Internet time is running out, so I'll update further later. Now it's time to take advantage of the hostel shower and kitchen. Nom.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Let Us Go Then
Today's the day. 6 hours until I fly off.
Safely here in Vancouver at Chris and April's. So far, all according to plan.
We are currently waiting to film a one-minute version of Singin' in the Rain (news to me yesterday, but I'll roll with it) before a trek to the airport.
Excitement is palpable and the send off could not have been better.
Thank you so much to everyone who came to wish me a happy birthday and safe travels. I will keep you as up to date as possible and my love to all my Canadian family.
Sweet As!
Thursday, January 13, 2011
4, 914 kilometers
That's approximately how long my travel route within New Zealand will be, according to Google Maps.
Follow along here: http://maps.google.ca/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=auckland&daddr=Thames,+Waikato,+New+Zealand+to:Hahei,+Waikato,+New+Zealand+to:Maketu,+Bay+Of+Plenty,+New+Zealand+to:Taupo,+Waikato,+New+Zealand+to:Tongariro,+Tongariro+National+Park,+Manawatu-Wanganui,+New+Zealand+to:Wellington,+New+Zealand+to:Marahau,+Tasman,+New+Zealand+to:Barrytown,+West+Coast,+New+Zealand+to:Franz+Josef+Glacier,+Westland+National+Park,+West+Coast,+New+Zealand+to:Makarora,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Queenstown,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Milford+Sound,+Southland,+New+Zealand+to:Invercargill,+Southland,+New+Zealand+to:Dunedin,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Oamaru,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Dunedin,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Aoraki+%2F+Mount+Cook+National+Park,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Christchurch,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Kaikoura,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Wellington,+New+Zealand+to:Napier,+Hawke's+Bay,+New+Zealand+to:Rotorua,+Bay+Of+Plenty,+New+Zealand+to:Auckland,+New+Zealand&geocode=FbS8zf0dRK1qCin75pxa-0cNbTEXmaJDYe8ABQ%3BFfZPyf0dZox2CinD80XYyoBybTFADaN
For those curious, the journey from Vic to Van to LA to Auckland is approximately 12, 553km. Double that for return flights and throw in the land and ferry travel while actually in New Zealand and you get 30, 020 km.
That's 5.2 Canadas.
Follow along here: http://maps.google.ca/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=auckland&daddr=Thames,+Waikato,+New+Zealand+to:Hahei,+Waikato,+New+Zealand+to:Maketu,+Bay+Of+Plenty,+New+Zealand+to:Taupo,+Waikato,+New+Zealand+to:Tongariro,+Tongariro+National+Park,+Manawatu-Wanganui,+New+Zealand+to:Wellington,+New+Zealand+to:Marahau,+Tasman,+New+Zealand+to:Barrytown,+West+Coast,+New+Zealand+to:Franz+Josef+Glacier,+Westland+National+Park,+West+Coast,+New+Zealand+to:Makarora,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Queenstown,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Milford+Sound,+Southland,+New+Zealand+to:Invercargill,+Southland,+New+Zealand+to:Dunedin,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Oamaru,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Dunedin,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Aoraki+%2F+Mount+Cook+National+Park,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Christchurch,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Kaikoura,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Wellington,+New+Zealand+to:Napier,+Hawke's+Bay,+New+Zealand+to:Rotorua,+Bay+Of+Plenty,+New+Zealand+to:Auckland,+New+Zealand&geocode=FbS8zf0dRK1qCin75pxa-0cNbTEXmaJDYe8ABQ%3BFfZPyf0dZox2CinD80XYyoBybTFADaN
For those curious, the journey from Vic to Van to LA to Auckland is approximately 12, 553km. Double that for return flights and throw in the land and ferry travel while actually in New Zealand and you get 30, 020 km.
That's 5.2 Canadas.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
So What Are You Going to do in New Zealand?
This:
And this: http://www.zorb.com/zorb/zydro-ride/
And possibly this: http://www.uflyextreme.co.nz/
All over this:
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Be Prepared
It's very important to be properly packed with all the necessaries when going on an international sojourn:
*documents
*plans
*map
*money
*shoes
*toiletries
*camera
and of course attire like this: http://www.bustedtees.com/hilyes
or perhaps one demonstrating my empathy for their geographical inferiority complex: http://www.bustedtees.com/canadaamericashat
or perhaps a show of unity between two of our countries' passions:
http://www.bustedtees.com/oneringtorulethemall
Making a bad impression? Nah.
*documents
*plans
*map
*money
*shoes
*toiletries
*camera
and of course attire like this: http://www.bustedtees.com/hilyes
or perhaps one demonstrating my empathy for their geographical inferiority complex: http://www.bustedtees.com/canadaamericashat
or perhaps a show of unity between two of our countries' passions:
http://www.bustedtees.com/oneringtorulethemall
Making a bad impression? Nah.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Happy New Year, Canada!
Hello everyone!
2011 is upon us, and that means that I am just 23 days away from my first grand adventure!
For those who may not know, I will be heading to New Zealand for one month starting in a little over three weeks.
My focus the past few days has been on getting my itinerary in order, and I felt I would share a bit of that with my readers:
January 22nd I ferry over to Van for a stay with Chris and April.
January 23rd it's off to Auckland! Featuring a layover in scenic LAX.
Due to time shifts and the length of the journey, January 24th has been cancelled this year. (I leave the afternoon of the 23rd and arrive the early morning of the 25th, by the time midnight hits, it will be the 25th).
Arriving in the early morning on the 25th, I have a few hours to stumble around Auckland and gather supplies before I can check in to my hostel to sleep off the jet lag.
Another full day in Auckland to visit the volcanic island or maybe just take it easy before I hit the road.
Early in the a.m. on the 27th, I hop on the bus for my Stray tour!
After that it's 25 days on the Bus, stopping and starting, seeing all three islands, spending a night on Stewart Island, hopping off the bus for a sojourn to the penguin colonies in Oamaru (!) and zorbing down the hill in Rotorua.
After the official tour ends, I will tack on a trip to Napier to see the Art Deco architecture, followed by a stop back in Rotorua for a rafting trip, and then back to Auckland the day before I fly back to Canada!
Hopefully I can find some time to meet up with M and J in Auckland towards the end.
I will be taking pictures (still and moving) galore, and will hopefully have the opportunity to update regularly.
Until next time, I'll be relaxing in Cowtown, making further preparations, and reminding myself every 5 minutes that I'm actually going!
23 days and counting.
Wish me luck!
Darcy
2011 is upon us, and that means that I am just 23 days away from my first grand adventure!
For those who may not know, I will be heading to New Zealand for one month starting in a little over three weeks.
My focus the past few days has been on getting my itinerary in order, and I felt I would share a bit of that with my readers:
January 22nd I ferry over to Van for a stay with Chris and April.
January 23rd it's off to Auckland! Featuring a layover in scenic LAX.
Due to time shifts and the length of the journey, January 24th has been cancelled this year. (I leave the afternoon of the 23rd and arrive the early morning of the 25th, by the time midnight hits, it will be the 25th).
Arriving in the early morning on the 25th, I have a few hours to stumble around Auckland and gather supplies before I can check in to my hostel to sleep off the jet lag.
Another full day in Auckland to visit the volcanic island or maybe just take it easy before I hit the road.
Early in the a.m. on the 27th, I hop on the bus for my Stray tour!
After that it's 25 days on the Bus, stopping and starting, seeing all three islands, spending a night on Stewart Island, hopping off the bus for a sojourn to the penguin colonies in Oamaru (!) and zorbing down the hill in Rotorua.
After the official tour ends, I will tack on a trip to Napier to see the Art Deco architecture, followed by a stop back in Rotorua for a rafting trip, and then back to Auckland the day before I fly back to Canada!
Hopefully I can find some time to meet up with M and J in Auckland towards the end.
I will be taking pictures (still and moving) galore, and will hopefully have the opportunity to update regularly.
Until next time, I'll be relaxing in Cowtown, making further preparations, and reminding myself every 5 minutes that I'm actually going!
23 days and counting.
Wish me luck!
Darcy
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