Wednesday, March 24 3:40 PM
Miami Beach, Florida
Idalis:
It's crazy to think that it's been over a month since we walked through the gates of Miami International Airport and saw our friends and family waiting for us, balloons and signs included! In many ways, we had been looking forward to (and dreading) that day for a year and a half.
So, how does it feel to be back?
Hard to say.
We miss our freedom, and feeling like every day is a Saturday. The “real world” is full of things we haven't had to think about in a very long time, like FPL bills, Miami traffic, and work. We miss getting up in the morning and just deciding then and there what we'd like to do for the day. We miss delicious street food, and the price of nearly everything in Asia.
But, I do think there is something to be said for having “too much of a good thing.” After a long time of being on the road, travel starts to lose its luster. Think back to that 7 day tour of Europe you once did. The first church is beautiful, and you marvel at the gilded ceilings and baroque architecture. By the tenth church, though, your feet hurt and all you care about is, “When is lunch?” How many pretty things can I look at before it all starts to seem the same?
We have so much to be thankful for upon our return.
It's been wonderful to reconnect with loved ones. There were so many times during our trip that we longed for a familiar face, and catching up with friends and family has been such a highlight of coming back. It feels GREAT to take a hot shower (every day, I might add) and sleep in a real bed. Even housework doesn't seem so tedious. Sure, vacuuming the house can be a drag, but at least I'm in a space where I can actually stand up in. I've loved running every morning in a place I'm familiar with (and can't get run over by a rickshaw!).
What seems most different to us?
People and their lack of time.
Time is money and money is time. People seem to be rushing, always, in a hurry to get somewhere or do something. Even while walking the dog, people are sending FaceBook messages on their iphones or having loud conversations with their boss. What's crazier yet is to think that we were once these same people, and we shudder to think we will one day have to join the masses and do the same.
Do we feel any different?
Yes.
And no.
We've learned to practice more gratitude. We were so lucky to have this experience, and we know it's one that some people only ever dream about. Separation has heightened my sentimentality. I feel much prouder about being an American than before, faults and all. I feel especially lucky to be a woman born into a Western society, with opportunities that other women around the world can only dream about. I'm grateful for our loving families, our wonderful and supportive friends, and for Netflix. Really. People have been so supportive, giving us couches and cell phones (thank you, Lauren, Jason, Erik, Mike & Amail!), job leads and advice (thank you, BBC chicks, Nate & Manny!), welcome home parties (thank you Aunt Connie & ReAnne), comfy beds to sleep in and home cooked meals (thank you Mom and Dad) and even a George Foreman grill (thanks again Lauren and Jason!). We have a new appreciation for home, yet still a healthy dose of wanderlust. It's an experience that has left us fundamentally the same – and yet profoundly changed.
Is this the end of our travels?
Absolutely not! From my cold, dead hands will you have to pry my lovingly-acquired, stamp-filled passport. As my favorite quote from St. Augustine says, “The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.”
So, what now?
Good question.
Strangely enough, we're looking forward to some normalcy. Work doesn't sound so bad, and feeling like a productive member of society has its rewards. A paycheck, for one. We look forward to cooking for friends, a fresh start at new jobs, and planning for our future together. It is the end of our around-the-world trip, but the start of something new.
Life is a chronology of different chapters. A new adventure is just beginning!
THE END . . .
. . . OR IS IT JUST THE BEGINNING?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
IN A NUTSHELL
Monday, February 15 @ 11:34
Kevin
We ride into Auckland on a wave of emotions. What awaits us in this, the biggest city in all of New Zealand, the most populated and bustling metropolis that we have seen in almost three months. We will find affordable accommodations? Will we be able to find a new owner for Fern? Will we be able to deal with the honking horns, the hustle, the bustle, the crowds? After all, this is where we come from, a big city.
Though we are the same people that left Miami a year and a half ago, our travels have changed is in very profound ways. We have re-established new tolerances for many things, such as comfort, diet and mobility. We have discovered a new found love of freedom and nature. We have learned to walk slower, mind the details and smile...often. We have, as expressed so many times before, recognized our passion for our family, friends and home. We have learned that life can be as simple or complex as you make it, that you must take chances and that the world is not a big, bad scary place.
Lacking the personal experience, I have to assume that our last three months of travel have given us a peek at what it might be like to be homeless. I know that now having the experience of showering in a public bathroom, sleeping in a parking lot or not showering at all for days, I can't help but have empathy for those who may have not chosen to live (travel) this way. It will humble you and it will make you appreciate even the most minute of conveniences, such as running water, an interior space you can stand in, or a cozy resting area, far from a highway. Conversely, there is an element of freedom in living on the fringes of Western conformity. It is even desirable to move about at your own will and chose what you want to do and when you want to do it. To take a long walk into the bush or meander along the shore.
Perhaps the most intoxicating and invigorating is the freedom to wander. To stray far from the beaten track. To take the gravel road, or climb over the hill. You never know what awaits you at the end or on the other side. The not knowing can be exhilarating and if embraced and not feared can lead to amazing rewards.
Travel has been a metaphor for life. There are a lot of lessons to be learned. The observant spirit can derive a whole new set of parameters. Perhaps the most important are to realize that you really are no different from even those brothers and sisters who sit naked in a jungle on the other side of the world. After all, you are each in a quest to find comfort and happiness. It helps to remember this when dealing with those much closer to you. Smile. To embrace your surroundings and take time to enjoy them. There is music in nature and if you stop to listen you will be rewarded with a beautiful symphony. Life is more and it takes less. You probably only need a fraction of what you think you do to survive. Giving is the best gift you can receive. Live slow. Smile.
We pull into one of the first suburbs of Auckland, Mangere, and find our good ole' friend Pak 'n' Save. We buy some food for dinner and breakfast and head to Amburly Park, a working farm on the fringes of the big city. We are able to camp there overnight. But first, we empty Fern completely and begin the nagging task of deconstruction. We repack our bags with our possessions, separate the trash, and prepare for the Sunday car fair. It takes us the majority of the day and after a late dinner and shower it is off to bed to make the alarms call at six in the morning. It is sure to be a long day. We wake up and it is still dark out and there is a fine mist hanging in the air. We don't talk much as we whip up a quick breakfast and head out the five gates that keep all the animals safe from the city traffic. We arrive at the Ellerslie Racecourse in time to get our sellers package, find a good spot, wipe down Fern and check out the competition. The morning starts slow and the weather is less than desirable for a car sale, but we stay hopeful and positive. In due time, people start to arrive and three individuals inquire about Fern and continue to circle around pondering their decisions, which we now know can be a bit taxing. Two of the potential buyers are local Kiwis and one is a traveler.
It isn't until a couple hours and test drives later that thirty year old California surfer, Kramer, returns to begin negotiating. I am honest with him and take him through all of the coughs and chokes. He opts for the paid vehicle inspection and we wait along side him biting nails and saying prayers. For an old girl, Fern fairs pretty well. The report shows she needs front brakes, a universal something or other and a tune up. The mechanic figures it would cost about $400 NZ dollars to have it all worked out. So, I tell Kramer we will split the cost of the repairs and take our half off the asking price. A deal is struck, the paperwork completed and our pockets are filled with crisp US dollars, which he happened to be traveling with. We wish him well, bid our girl a fond farewell and somewhat gloomily stroll into our double room, named “Queenstown”, at the Auckland International Backpackers.
How to explain the wave of emotions? There is not much you can do to prepare and not much past experience to draw on when it comes to the point where all you have worked for and focused on is about to end. It was, by all accounts, a sweeping success. Aside from two missing cameras, a few battles with the runs and a the loss of a beloved member of the family (We love you Aphrodite), we have done it. We have accomplished what we set out to do and exceeded even our most lofty of expectations. So, now what? How does one prepare to “re-enter the real world”? It will remain an unknown for now. Though we currently feel a whole in our hearts, like something is missing, akin to losing a loved one, we fight to stay hopeful and positive that the future will continue to hold great things. Unlike some travelers you meet, we are not running away from anything and love our home. We are very anxious to be reunited with loved ones and gratuitously spread hugs. We long for creature comforts and some form of normalcy. We will, however, do our best to hold on to the feelings we have been fortunate enough to experience in the last year and a half. We will work hard to stay in touch with new friends. We will not stop searching for adventure and excitement. We will foster the desire to explore. We will begin to see an old world in new ways. We will try to be better people and be better to people. We will crave freedom and appreciate familiarity. We will above all always try to be true to ourselves. As one door closes and a new one opens, we urge you all to continue to come along while we vagabond!
THE END!
Kevin
We ride into Auckland on a wave of emotions. What awaits us in this, the biggest city in all of New Zealand, the most populated and bustling metropolis that we have seen in almost three months. We will find affordable accommodations? Will we be able to find a new owner for Fern? Will we be able to deal with the honking horns, the hustle, the bustle, the crowds? After all, this is where we come from, a big city.
Though we are the same people that left Miami a year and a half ago, our travels have changed is in very profound ways. We have re-established new tolerances for many things, such as comfort, diet and mobility. We have discovered a new found love of freedom and nature. We have learned to walk slower, mind the details and smile...often. We have, as expressed so many times before, recognized our passion for our family, friends and home. We have learned that life can be as simple or complex as you make it, that you must take chances and that the world is not a big, bad scary place.
Lacking the personal experience, I have to assume that our last three months of travel have given us a peek at what it might be like to be homeless. I know that now having the experience of showering in a public bathroom, sleeping in a parking lot or not showering at all for days, I can't help but have empathy for those who may have not chosen to live (travel) this way. It will humble you and it will make you appreciate even the most minute of conveniences, such as running water, an interior space you can stand in, or a cozy resting area, far from a highway. Conversely, there is an element of freedom in living on the fringes of Western conformity. It is even desirable to move about at your own will and chose what you want to do and when you want to do it. To take a long walk into the bush or meander along the shore.
Perhaps the most intoxicating and invigorating is the freedom to wander. To stray far from the beaten track. To take the gravel road, or climb over the hill. You never know what awaits you at the end or on the other side. The not knowing can be exhilarating and if embraced and not feared can lead to amazing rewards.
Travel has been a metaphor for life. There are a lot of lessons to be learned. The observant spirit can derive a whole new set of parameters. Perhaps the most important are to realize that you really are no different from even those brothers and sisters who sit naked in a jungle on the other side of the world. After all, you are each in a quest to find comfort and happiness. It helps to remember this when dealing with those much closer to you. Smile. To embrace your surroundings and take time to enjoy them. There is music in nature and if you stop to listen you will be rewarded with a beautiful symphony. Life is more and it takes less. You probably only need a fraction of what you think you do to survive. Giving is the best gift you can receive. Live slow. Smile.
We pull into one of the first suburbs of Auckland, Mangere, and find our good ole' friend Pak 'n' Save. We buy some food for dinner and breakfast and head to Amburly Park, a working farm on the fringes of the big city. We are able to camp there overnight. But first, we empty Fern completely and begin the nagging task of deconstruction. We repack our bags with our possessions, separate the trash, and prepare for the Sunday car fair. It takes us the majority of the day and after a late dinner and shower it is off to bed to make the alarms call at six in the morning. It is sure to be a long day. We wake up and it is still dark out and there is a fine mist hanging in the air. We don't talk much as we whip up a quick breakfast and head out the five gates that keep all the animals safe from the city traffic. We arrive at the Ellerslie Racecourse in time to get our sellers package, find a good spot, wipe down Fern and check out the competition. The morning starts slow and the weather is less than desirable for a car sale, but we stay hopeful and positive. In due time, people start to arrive and three individuals inquire about Fern and continue to circle around pondering their decisions, which we now know can be a bit taxing. Two of the potential buyers are local Kiwis and one is a traveler.
It isn't until a couple hours and test drives later that thirty year old California surfer, Kramer, returns to begin negotiating. I am honest with him and take him through all of the coughs and chokes. He opts for the paid vehicle inspection and we wait along side him biting nails and saying prayers. For an old girl, Fern fairs pretty well. The report shows she needs front brakes, a universal something or other and a tune up. The mechanic figures it would cost about $400 NZ dollars to have it all worked out. So, I tell Kramer we will split the cost of the repairs and take our half off the asking price. A deal is struck, the paperwork completed and our pockets are filled with crisp US dollars, which he happened to be traveling with. We wish him well, bid our girl a fond farewell and somewhat gloomily stroll into our double room, named “Queenstown”, at the Auckland International Backpackers.
How to explain the wave of emotions? There is not much you can do to prepare and not much past experience to draw on when it comes to the point where all you have worked for and focused on is about to end. It was, by all accounts, a sweeping success. Aside from two missing cameras, a few battles with the runs and a the loss of a beloved member of the family (We love you Aphrodite), we have done it. We have accomplished what we set out to do and exceeded even our most lofty of expectations. So, now what? How does one prepare to “re-enter the real world”? It will remain an unknown for now. Though we currently feel a whole in our hearts, like something is missing, akin to losing a loved one, we fight to stay hopeful and positive that the future will continue to hold great things. Unlike some travelers you meet, we are not running away from anything and love our home. We are very anxious to be reunited with loved ones and gratuitously spread hugs. We long for creature comforts and some form of normalcy. We will, however, do our best to hold on to the feelings we have been fortunate enough to experience in the last year and a half. We will work hard to stay in touch with new friends. We will not stop searching for adventure and excitement. We will foster the desire to explore. We will begin to see an old world in new ways. We will try to be better people and be better to people. We will crave freedom and appreciate familiarity. We will above all always try to be true to ourselves. As one door closes and a new one opens, we urge you all to continue to come along while we vagabond!
THE END!
Monday, February 15, 2010
MUD, MOODS, AND ROTTEN EGGS: A TYPICAL DAY
Sunday, February 14, 2010 6:20 PM
Idalis:
Rotorua
Who farted?
It's not a big van, and there can only be two suspects. Kevin and I stare at each other accusingly, our leers blaming each other for the foul stench. “Wasn't me this time,” Kevin says with a smile. “YOU had that meat pie for lunch!” I counter.
Turns out it wasn't either one of us. We just happen to be driving into Rotorua, known for its sulfur-rich air, sprouting geysers, and bubbling mud pools. The whole town smells like egg farts, and rolling down the windows only makes it worse!
We wander around Kuirau Park, a volcanic area that last erupted in 2003, covering much of the area in mud, including the trees! We stared at the pools of boiling mud (which you can buy in the souvenir shops as face masks) and soaked our feet in the mineral baths while holding our noses. We're fascinated by the crater lakes and huffing steam, which even makes the boardwalk under our feet hot!
Tongariro National Park
It's a few days later, and we've traded in the sulfur smells for . . . more eggy smells! But this time, we agree that it's definitely worth it! We've spent the night in the wee town of Turangi, in a car park, across the street from the information center. We're up at 4:30 AM to do the much hyped about Tongariro Alpine Crossing, a 7-9 hour walk which is famed to be the best one-day tramp in all of New Zealand.
We couldn't agree more.
Worth every minute of the often-challenging seven hours, the Tongariro Crossing does not disappoint. We traverse spectacular volcanic geography, passing red craters, steaming vents, and the beautifully colored Emerald Lakes, and the star: Mount Doom! Mount Ngauruhoe and neighboring Mount Tongariro are volcanoes that add an other-worldly feel to the whole experience. At the end of the day we are sweating, our calves ache, and we are exhausted, but feel giddy from having viewed such amazing scenery (and probably from dehydration, too). The mineral baths we soak in at the end of the evening almost make you forget the pain.
Napier
We had been looking forward to seeing this city for a long time. Situated in Hawkes Bay, on the east coast of the North Island, Napier is known for its vineyards and architecture. It truly is a photogenic city. We started seeing the pastel Art Deco buildings driving in and immediately felt deja vu, and a pang of homesickness. It's Miami Beach! But without the plastic surgery!
Besides taking a million pictures that Kevin promises to show everyone in the Planning Department at the City of Miami Beach, we decided to drive out to a few of the vineyards in Hawkes Bay. We made it to two, but got quickly discouraged by the big crowds and insy-winsy servings. That's not even enough to taste it! With our palates craving larger portions, we decide to head to the supermarket and get a bottle of a local vintage to go with dinner. A few wine glasses worths– that's more like it!
East Cape
After some wine and culture, it's time to head out to less sophisticated surroundings. We drive northeast and spend several days exploring the East Cape, remote and much slower. We take our time along the Pacific Coast, stopping at several blink-and-you'll-miss-it towns like Mahia Beach, Waihanui, and Hick's Bay. Most of these small towns have large Maori communities and stunning beaches. Known to be a poorer, underdeveloped are of New Zealand, we're puzzled by the shabby homes that hug the driftwood-littered beaches. Kevin surfs, I read, and we freedom camp in bays we have all to ourselves.
Mount Maunganui
It's time to rejoin civilization again. After days of deserted beaches and ocean baths, we're eager to wash the sand out of our hair and get a decent meal. We follow the Cape's jagged spine all the way northwest until we get to Mount Maunganui, named for the massive 232 meter hill that dominates the township. It's a vacation destination for Kiwis, with beautiful beaches and a lazy cafe culture. We love it, and spend a few days surfing (he) and lounging on the beach (me). On our last morning, we both wake up early. I go for a long run and Kevin climbs to the top of the hill for views of the western Bay of Plenty.
Do we really have to leave already?
Heading to Auckland . . .
We're coming up on close to our last week in New Zealand, and our last week of this amazing adventure. As we head into Auckland, Kevin and I are feeling a wave of emotions: happy, sad, anxious, excited, etc, etc, etc. We have a lot of loose ends to tie up, and we're keeping our fingers crossed that everything gets accomplished. Top on the list is selling Fern, which we know will be no easy task. As we're leaving when the tourist season here is almost over, there are very few buyers for backpacker vans. Everyone is doing the same. It's definitely a buyer's market, with any backpacker arriving in New Zealand now having the upper hand. Wish us luck in finding a new home for Fern!
P.S.
Living out of a van is not glamorous. Fun, yes. Economical, sure. Opulent, definitely not! We long for the day when we can stand up in our living space! For those of you who may have entertained the idea, here are some funny pictures to show you what a typical day is like for us:
Kevin checks to make sure the milk is still good and hasn't curdled:
Looking for mosquitoes before going to bed:
Washing dishes in the dark:
Running water? In your dreams!
Stocking the pantry crate at Pak N' Save, kind of like Winn Dixie but with people walking around barefoot:
Cooking al fresco:
Becoming very acquainted with out houses:
Sleeping in parking lots:
Trying to work off all those yummy grass-fed lamb sausages we're eating:
Getting to know the locals more intimately:
Idalis:
Rotorua
Who farted?
It's not a big van, and there can only be two suspects. Kevin and I stare at each other accusingly, our leers blaming each other for the foul stench. “Wasn't me this time,” Kevin says with a smile. “YOU had that meat pie for lunch!” I counter.
Turns out it wasn't either one of us. We just happen to be driving into Rotorua, known for its sulfur-rich air, sprouting geysers, and bubbling mud pools. The whole town smells like egg farts, and rolling down the windows only makes it worse!
We wander around Kuirau Park, a volcanic area that last erupted in 2003, covering much of the area in mud, including the trees! We stared at the pools of boiling mud (which you can buy in the souvenir shops as face masks) and soaked our feet in the mineral baths while holding our noses. We're fascinated by the crater lakes and huffing steam, which even makes the boardwalk under our feet hot!
Tongariro National Park
It's a few days later, and we've traded in the sulfur smells for . . . more eggy smells! But this time, we agree that it's definitely worth it! We've spent the night in the wee town of Turangi, in a car park, across the street from the information center. We're up at 4:30 AM to do the much hyped about Tongariro Alpine Crossing, a 7-9 hour walk which is famed to be the best one-day tramp in all of New Zealand.
We couldn't agree more.
Worth every minute of the often-challenging seven hours, the Tongariro Crossing does not disappoint. We traverse spectacular volcanic geography, passing red craters, steaming vents, and the beautifully colored Emerald Lakes, and the star: Mount Doom! Mount Ngauruhoe and neighboring Mount Tongariro are volcanoes that add an other-worldly feel to the whole experience. At the end of the day we are sweating, our calves ache, and we are exhausted, but feel giddy from having viewed such amazing scenery (and probably from dehydration, too). The mineral baths we soak in at the end of the evening almost make you forget the pain.
Napier
We had been looking forward to seeing this city for a long time. Situated in Hawkes Bay, on the east coast of the North Island, Napier is known for its vineyards and architecture. It truly is a photogenic city. We started seeing the pastel Art Deco buildings driving in and immediately felt deja vu, and a pang of homesickness. It's Miami Beach! But without the plastic surgery!
Besides taking a million pictures that Kevin promises to show everyone in the Planning Department at the City of Miami Beach, we decided to drive out to a few of the vineyards in Hawkes Bay. We made it to two, but got quickly discouraged by the big crowds and insy-winsy servings. That's not even enough to taste it! With our palates craving larger portions, we decide to head to the supermarket and get a bottle of a local vintage to go with dinner. A few wine glasses worths– that's more like it!
East Cape
After some wine and culture, it's time to head out to less sophisticated surroundings. We drive northeast and spend several days exploring the East Cape, remote and much slower. We take our time along the Pacific Coast, stopping at several blink-and-you'll-miss-it towns like Mahia Beach, Waihanui, and Hick's Bay. Most of these small towns have large Maori communities and stunning beaches. Known to be a poorer, underdeveloped are of New Zealand, we're puzzled by the shabby homes that hug the driftwood-littered beaches. Kevin surfs, I read, and we freedom camp in bays we have all to ourselves.
Mount Maunganui
It's time to rejoin civilization again. After days of deserted beaches and ocean baths, we're eager to wash the sand out of our hair and get a decent meal. We follow the Cape's jagged spine all the way northwest until we get to Mount Maunganui, named for the massive 232 meter hill that dominates the township. It's a vacation destination for Kiwis, with beautiful beaches and a lazy cafe culture. We love it, and spend a few days surfing (he) and lounging on the beach (me). On our last morning, we both wake up early. I go for a long run and Kevin climbs to the top of the hill for views of the western Bay of Plenty.
Do we really have to leave already?
Heading to Auckland . . .
We're coming up on close to our last week in New Zealand, and our last week of this amazing adventure. As we head into Auckland, Kevin and I are feeling a wave of emotions: happy, sad, anxious, excited, etc, etc, etc. We have a lot of loose ends to tie up, and we're keeping our fingers crossed that everything gets accomplished. Top on the list is selling Fern, which we know will be no easy task. As we're leaving when the tourist season here is almost over, there are very few buyers for backpacker vans. Everyone is doing the same. It's definitely a buyer's market, with any backpacker arriving in New Zealand now having the upper hand. Wish us luck in finding a new home for Fern!
P.S.
Living out of a van is not glamorous. Fun, yes. Economical, sure. Opulent, definitely not! We long for the day when we can stand up in our living space! For those of you who may have entertained the idea, here are some funny pictures to show you what a typical day is like for us:
Kevin checks to make sure the milk is still good and hasn't curdled:
Looking for mosquitoes before going to bed:
Washing dishes in the dark:
Running water? In your dreams!
Stocking the pantry crate at Pak N' Save, kind of like Winn Dixie but with people walking around barefoot:
Cooking al fresco:
Becoming very acquainted with out houses:
Sleeping in parking lots:
Trying to work off all those yummy grass-fed lamb sausages we're eating:
Getting to know the locals more intimately:
Thursday, January 28, 2010
THE “BUZZ” KILL
Thursday, January 28th @ 10:00
Kevin
On what is presumably our last ferry ride, we arrive at the southern tip of the north island of New Zealand. In fact, as we drive Fern off the boat and out of the port, we breech a signal light that places us smack dab in the middle of the CBD (commercial business district) of the capital city of Wellington. At first it is a bit overwhelming. We haven't seen this many people in ages. Then, we realize just how much we have missed big cities. And this one is a charmer. It is the commercial and political hub of the country. It reminds us a bit of Sydney, which reminded us a bit of San Francisco. A picturesque city with rolling hills, charming architecture, surrounding a beautiful harbor and full of people hustling and bustling, New Zealand style, which means running, bike riding, skating, skiing, swimming, indoor rock climbing, unicycling and everything else you can imagine and all right in the middle of downtown.
Wellington is New Zealand's windiest city. However, we are treated to two beautiful and sunny days with only a mild breeze to cool us off. We enjoy our time here strolling through the botanical gardens, which we access by cable car, walking along the waterfront and touring the very unique and characteristic neighborhoods, such as Cuba Street and the political district, where you can have a tour of Parliament and the famous beehive building .
A march to the top of Mount Victoria affords us million dollar views of the entire area. And almost a full day in the Te Papa museum absolutely floors us. Perhaps the best museum to date. Complete with amazing displays of Maori culture, natural history and even an earthquake room! North Island, we have arrived.
Seems we've gotten a bit lazy with our planning being as it is so close to the end of our trip. We pull out of our accommodation in Wellington and just start driving north. No destination in mind. It is, really, the best way to travel. In many ways, we did save the best for last. Had we done this type of traveling first, where you have your own wheels and only the loosest of plans, it may have made the rest of the trip feel a bit more restrictive. Our journey finds us driving almost all day, perhaps the most distance covered to date, with stop offs along the way, like lunch in the city of Levin. We end up hugging the southwest coast until we decide we've had enough, which coincides with our passing, and then turning around to return to, Kai Iwi beach and this lovely little campground. As has happened so many times in the past, we are completely enchanted and get sucked into relaxing and enjoying the most amazing scenery and coastline, with enough time for a (very cold) surf session, some book reading, and the always necessary laundry and clean up.
We tear ourselves away from (yet another) paradise and head right into the s@#t. We are in a very unique area of the island where a (some say still active, and slightly overdue) volcano rests and has created a semi-circular land mass that bulges right out into the Tasman Sea. The perimeter road has been dubbed the “Surf Highway” and for good reason. Some of the north islands best breaks are located within this hundred or so kilometers. But not yet! First, we decide to head right up to the volcano, Mount Taranaki. as far as we can get by car. Which, after the pissing rain and gray clouds clear (for only twenty minutes) we find is immediately above us and quite grand. It is an almost perfect cone with one small (from a distance) sliver that juts out, known as “shark tooth”.
We decide to stay the night up here to see if the morning affords us good enough weather for a wee wander. It does not. So, we feel thankful to have seen it, even if ever so briefly. We drive back down the volcano and as we do, the sky starts to open up along the coast and the sun makes an appearance.
The wind is predominantly southwest and all the surf that we check on this side of the bulge is huge, cold, windswept and menacing. So, we keep driving. As soon as we round the bulge and get out of the strong winds, things start looking up. First stop is for a surf in Oakura. Good waves, no crowd, very cold! After a few more pull overs and surf checks, we wind up in the relatively large town of New Plymouth and more specifically, Fitzroy Beach. At this point, the wind is off shore, the tide is low and I am treated to perhaps one of the best sessions of my life, albeit very cold!
Feeling exhausted we decide to check into the Fitzroy Caravan Park and once again get sucked into a couple of days of surf, some sun and lots of fun. New Plymouth, the gas and oil hub of New Zealand and the deepest port on the west coast has a very industrial feel. However, a few years ago, the Council decided to move the train tracks more inland, demolish the old warehouses and install a walkway and green belt that flanks the coast. A tourist i-site, museums, public library and shops and cafes follow. A brilliant move by all accounts. Even though I see the stack of the local power plant penetrating the skyline, I also get to see a beautiful coastline and a volcano ever looming, though not always visible, in the background as I sit in the line up waiting for the next swell to roll in. We end our stay with a free concert in the park followed by a film preview by a local artist. Life is great!
While at Fitzroy, we get a tip about some back roads that may be of interest. So, we head off. After a bit of driving, we arrive at the end of a dirt road at what appears to be a bit of a hippie colony. It is actually known as Waikawau Beach and we decided to settle in for a night of freedom camping. It is an interesting place. There is a tunnel that leads to the beach that was cut right out of the limestone cliffs. Apparently it was used to drive cattle through the country side and out into boats waiting on the other side. Now, it provides safe passage for hippies and the occasional tourists. Another completely empty and stunning natural beach. Surf looks like it could pretty much pulverize me, so we opt for a morning walk instead. After which, we have breakfast and bid the hippies fair well.
We continue driving on the sometime paved, sometimes gravel, always winding road and stop in at several little villages and beaches to have a gander. The more memorable ones are Kiritehere Beach, a long left hander and sacred burial site, and Marakope, holiday sea-side village, where we enjoy lunch in the shade. That night, we reach Kawhia, pronounced Kafia?! It gives us a weird feeling, but we end up staying two days anyways. At $8 per person, per night, it is a steal, complete with cooking facilities and hot showers. The beach is amazing, something of legend perhaps. It is called Te Puia Springs and is the location of a very important and historic Maori village. One where the creator of a “Haka”, or more commonly known as the welcome dance, lived. It is enough to scare the pants off of you with screams, bellows and distorted faces with protruding tongues, but it really is a traditional welcome. I would loved to have seen the faces of the early European settlers as a crowd of as many as fifty huge Pacific Island men gave them this special greeting! We have yet to experience the Haka, which may be a blessing, but we did not miss out on the hospitality of this great little town and the magic of their local beach. In addition to having great surf, two hours either side of low tide you can scour the sand for signs of hot springs that run underneath. One is steam, the other is the smell of rotting eggs. Once found, simply dig a hole and bury yourself in steaming hot mineral water as you watch the surf pound the shore. We find a couple of locals who seem to have found the hottest hole. They invite us over, we extend the dug out and have the most amazing day alternating between dips in freezing cold sea water and comfortably warm spring water, all while burning to a crisp in the unrelenting summer sun which has no ozone to filter its damaging effects.
A long, hot, dusty ride on a gravel road that someone said, “would turn you inside out”, deposited us onto the shores of Raglan. Two world famous left hand point breaks, Whale Bay and Manu Bay, and a beach break.
Two of the damdest things would happen within just the first few hours of arrival. The first would happen right as we were finishing up an amazing dinner of fresh snapper fillets compliments of a guy we met in the previous campground. Just as I would lean back and let out a great sigh of satisfaction a bug would fly right into the ear canal of my left ear. It did not linger around the outside to feel out this new accommodation, it flew right into the center of my ear and continued to flap even though it had met an abrupt dead end. The sound and feeling immediately brought tears to my eyes and made me instantly go insane. So much so that I was looking for the closest cliff to jump from. I never thought such a small incident could cause so much discomfort. I first started by running to the shower and turning the water on full blast and right into my ear. No success. Idalis would then pour warm water from a glass into my ear. Still nothing. We would then roll up a piece of paper and poor Idalis tried to suck the bugger out. Nothing. Just a constant high pitched vibrato deep in the middle of my brain. Relief was nowhere. Despite my sudden lack of balance we packed up, in a hurry, and headed into town looking for help. The health clinic was closed and the paramedic only had a pen light. The operator at the end of the emergency phone line said use oil to float it out. I said, “what kind of oil”. She said, “cooking oil”. So right there in the middle of downtown Idalis was pouring extra virgin olive oil in my ear. The bug did not float out and I smelled like a salad, but at least the hum of the flapping wings stopped. Yeah! I would have to sleep on the ear that night hoping my uninvited guest would get the hint and fall out, but no luck. So, the next morning we went back to the health clinic, filled out the necessary paperwork and the nurse proceeded to flush out my ear with a high power syringe. Voile!
The other damdest occurrence, equally as painful bet less involved was that all these famous left hand breaks, supposedly the world's longest, would lay down flat. The search continues.
Kevin
On what is presumably our last ferry ride, we arrive at the southern tip of the north island of New Zealand. In fact, as we drive Fern off the boat and out of the port, we breech a signal light that places us smack dab in the middle of the CBD (commercial business district) of the capital city of Wellington. At first it is a bit overwhelming. We haven't seen this many people in ages. Then, we realize just how much we have missed big cities. And this one is a charmer. It is the commercial and political hub of the country. It reminds us a bit of Sydney, which reminded us a bit of San Francisco. A picturesque city with rolling hills, charming architecture, surrounding a beautiful harbor and full of people hustling and bustling, New Zealand style, which means running, bike riding, skating, skiing, swimming, indoor rock climbing, unicycling and everything else you can imagine and all right in the middle of downtown.
Wellington is New Zealand's windiest city. However, we are treated to two beautiful and sunny days with only a mild breeze to cool us off. We enjoy our time here strolling through the botanical gardens, which we access by cable car, walking along the waterfront and touring the very unique and characteristic neighborhoods, such as Cuba Street and the political district, where you can have a tour of Parliament and the famous beehive building .
A march to the top of Mount Victoria affords us million dollar views of the entire area. And almost a full day in the Te Papa museum absolutely floors us. Perhaps the best museum to date. Complete with amazing displays of Maori culture, natural history and even an earthquake room! North Island, we have arrived.
Seems we've gotten a bit lazy with our planning being as it is so close to the end of our trip. We pull out of our accommodation in Wellington and just start driving north. No destination in mind. It is, really, the best way to travel. In many ways, we did save the best for last. Had we done this type of traveling first, where you have your own wheels and only the loosest of plans, it may have made the rest of the trip feel a bit more restrictive. Our journey finds us driving almost all day, perhaps the most distance covered to date, with stop offs along the way, like lunch in the city of Levin. We end up hugging the southwest coast until we decide we've had enough, which coincides with our passing, and then turning around to return to, Kai Iwi beach and this lovely little campground. As has happened so many times in the past, we are completely enchanted and get sucked into relaxing and enjoying the most amazing scenery and coastline, with enough time for a (very cold) surf session, some book reading, and the always necessary laundry and clean up.
We tear ourselves away from (yet another) paradise and head right into the s@#t. We are in a very unique area of the island where a (some say still active, and slightly overdue) volcano rests and has created a semi-circular land mass that bulges right out into the Tasman Sea. The perimeter road has been dubbed the “Surf Highway” and for good reason. Some of the north islands best breaks are located within this hundred or so kilometers. But not yet! First, we decide to head right up to the volcano, Mount Taranaki. as far as we can get by car. Which, after the pissing rain and gray clouds clear (for only twenty minutes) we find is immediately above us and quite grand. It is an almost perfect cone with one small (from a distance) sliver that juts out, known as “shark tooth”.
We decide to stay the night up here to see if the morning affords us good enough weather for a wee wander. It does not. So, we feel thankful to have seen it, even if ever so briefly. We drive back down the volcano and as we do, the sky starts to open up along the coast and the sun makes an appearance.
The wind is predominantly southwest and all the surf that we check on this side of the bulge is huge, cold, windswept and menacing. So, we keep driving. As soon as we round the bulge and get out of the strong winds, things start looking up. First stop is for a surf in Oakura. Good waves, no crowd, very cold! After a few more pull overs and surf checks, we wind up in the relatively large town of New Plymouth and more specifically, Fitzroy Beach. At this point, the wind is off shore, the tide is low and I am treated to perhaps one of the best sessions of my life, albeit very cold!
Feeling exhausted we decide to check into the Fitzroy Caravan Park and once again get sucked into a couple of days of surf, some sun and lots of fun. New Plymouth, the gas and oil hub of New Zealand and the deepest port on the west coast has a very industrial feel. However, a few years ago, the Council decided to move the train tracks more inland, demolish the old warehouses and install a walkway and green belt that flanks the coast. A tourist i-site, museums, public library and shops and cafes follow. A brilliant move by all accounts. Even though I see the stack of the local power plant penetrating the skyline, I also get to see a beautiful coastline and a volcano ever looming, though not always visible, in the background as I sit in the line up waiting for the next swell to roll in. We end our stay with a free concert in the park followed by a film preview by a local artist. Life is great!
While at Fitzroy, we get a tip about some back roads that may be of interest. So, we head off. After a bit of driving, we arrive at the end of a dirt road at what appears to be a bit of a hippie colony. It is actually known as Waikawau Beach and we decided to settle in for a night of freedom camping. It is an interesting place. There is a tunnel that leads to the beach that was cut right out of the limestone cliffs. Apparently it was used to drive cattle through the country side and out into boats waiting on the other side. Now, it provides safe passage for hippies and the occasional tourists. Another completely empty and stunning natural beach. Surf looks like it could pretty much pulverize me, so we opt for a morning walk instead. After which, we have breakfast and bid the hippies fair well.
We continue driving on the sometime paved, sometimes gravel, always winding road and stop in at several little villages and beaches to have a gander. The more memorable ones are Kiritehere Beach, a long left hander and sacred burial site, and Marakope, holiday sea-side village, where we enjoy lunch in the shade. That night, we reach Kawhia, pronounced Kafia?! It gives us a weird feeling, but we end up staying two days anyways. At $8 per person, per night, it is a steal, complete with cooking facilities and hot showers. The beach is amazing, something of legend perhaps. It is called Te Puia Springs and is the location of a very important and historic Maori village. One where the creator of a “Haka”, or more commonly known as the welcome dance, lived. It is enough to scare the pants off of you with screams, bellows and distorted faces with protruding tongues, but it really is a traditional welcome. I would loved to have seen the faces of the early European settlers as a crowd of as many as fifty huge Pacific Island men gave them this special greeting! We have yet to experience the Haka, which may be a blessing, but we did not miss out on the hospitality of this great little town and the magic of their local beach. In addition to having great surf, two hours either side of low tide you can scour the sand for signs of hot springs that run underneath. One is steam, the other is the smell of rotting eggs. Once found, simply dig a hole and bury yourself in steaming hot mineral water as you watch the surf pound the shore. We find a couple of locals who seem to have found the hottest hole. They invite us over, we extend the dug out and have the most amazing day alternating between dips in freezing cold sea water and comfortably warm spring water, all while burning to a crisp in the unrelenting summer sun which has no ozone to filter its damaging effects.
A long, hot, dusty ride on a gravel road that someone said, “would turn you inside out”, deposited us onto the shores of Raglan. Two world famous left hand point breaks, Whale Bay and Manu Bay, and a beach break.
Two of the damdest things would happen within just the first few hours of arrival. The first would happen right as we were finishing up an amazing dinner of fresh snapper fillets compliments of a guy we met in the previous campground. Just as I would lean back and let out a great sigh of satisfaction a bug would fly right into the ear canal of my left ear. It did not linger around the outside to feel out this new accommodation, it flew right into the center of my ear and continued to flap even though it had met an abrupt dead end. The sound and feeling immediately brought tears to my eyes and made me instantly go insane. So much so that I was looking for the closest cliff to jump from. I never thought such a small incident could cause so much discomfort. I first started by running to the shower and turning the water on full blast and right into my ear. No success. Idalis would then pour warm water from a glass into my ear. Still nothing. We would then roll up a piece of paper and poor Idalis tried to suck the bugger out. Nothing. Just a constant high pitched vibrato deep in the middle of my brain. Relief was nowhere. Despite my sudden lack of balance we packed up, in a hurry, and headed into town looking for help. The health clinic was closed and the paramedic only had a pen light. The operator at the end of the emergency phone line said use oil to float it out. I said, “what kind of oil”. She said, “cooking oil”. So right there in the middle of downtown Idalis was pouring extra virgin olive oil in my ear. The bug did not float out and I smelled like a salad, but at least the hum of the flapping wings stopped. Yeah! I would have to sleep on the ear that night hoping my uninvited guest would get the hint and fall out, but no luck. So, the next morning we went back to the health clinic, filled out the necessary paperwork and the nurse proceeded to flush out my ear with a high power syringe. Voile!
The other damdest occurrence, equally as painful bet less involved was that all these famous left hand breaks, supposedly the world's longest, would lay down flat. The search continues.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
A PUZZLING WORLD
Friday, January 15, 2010
Idalis:
New Zealand is a young country, its present shape less than 10,000 years old. Having broken off from Gondwanaland (which included Africa, Australia, South America, and Antarctica) about 130 million years ago, its endured ice ages, volcanic activity, and erosion. This makes for fantastic scenery and sometimes horrible weather. We've seen it all, it seems: snow capped mountains, glaciers, rainforest, and the most puzzling sight of all, Kiwi “Westie” fashion. Add to the mix a proud Maori culture, superb food and wine, and an adventurous spirit and you have a place that, even after 16 months of travel, has managed to puzzle, confound, delight, awe, and entertain us.
Lucky for us two vagabonds in an old beat up van, there are now roads in former Gondwanaland. They're sometimes bad, often winding, and always full of sheep, but we've been able to experience some amazing, jaw-dropping landscapes that have left us dumbfounded. As has been the case here, the detours have been just as impressive (if not more) than the things we've planned for. Following is a random cornucopia of recent kiwiana that has made us laugh, cry, gape, smile, and scratch our heads (and other body parts):
Puzzle World – Set in the beautiful town of Wanaka, which overlooks a lake, this museum started this whole theme. It has a 3-D maze, a room full of optical illusions enough to make you (at least me) tumble to the ground, and mind-bending puzzles Kevin could solve but I didn't have the patience for. Worse than Sudoku!
Rob Roy Glacier Walk – One of our favorite tramps yet. Although an hour out of Wanaka on a bad corrugated road (bump! bump! bump!), it was well worth the pounding headaches we both got. Beautiful views along the way included brown hills that reminded me of the cocoa-powdered truffles I loved getting at Costco. Yum! The four-hour hike took in glaciers, waterfalls, and a swing bridge, not to mention four thundering avalanches we saw from the safety of our lunch spot!
Sandflies – These devils with wings are everywhere! The sandfly is an ugly black fly that uses our blood to fertilize its eggs and lay them under swift-moving water. How dare they! Only the females bite, which means there are twice as many around. They get into every crevice in the van, and the tiny little spot you forgot to apply repellent to will surely have a welt tomorrow. Kevin even installed screens in the windows, but they somehow find their way in. The bites hurt, and they leave marks that last for weeks. Every night before going to bed, we go on Sandfly Duty and kill as many of the little buggers as we can. To date, the record has been the extermination of 42 sandflies in 12 minutes. I've gotten three bites just writing these few paragraphs!
Driftwood art – Something you and I might do to make the time pass on the beach seems to be a national art form here. Driving along the coast on our way to the glaciers, Kevin and I saw these weird rock and wood formations on Bruce Bay. We stop to marvel at the hundreds of wood sculptures and cairns that have been built, scattered around the beach. We add our own and find out later many seaside towns hold summer competitions for the best ones. Eco-friendly art!
Fox and Franz Josef Glaciers – A “must see” on the west coast of the South Island. Some years they advance, some years they recede, at a rate of up to five meters a day! The early Maori knew Franz Josef as Ka Roimata o Hine Hukatere (Tears of the Avalanche Girl). Legend says a girl lost her lover when he fell from the local peaks, and her flood of tears froze into the glacier. We learned that the blue ice we see on the glacier's peak is actually old snow so compacted that the oxygen is squeezed out, leaving the azure tinge. Our views of Fox Glacier were quite good, but the day we arrived at Franz Josef, the access road was closed at first. Torrential rains had caused poor visibility and swollen rivers. One DOC worker told us they had built a bridge to cross one of the rivers, which only lasted 23 hours before being washed out. Kevin approached one of the swift rivers and caught a piece of glacier ice, which he put in the cooler to keep our chicken cold. I get to marry this genius!
New Zealand weather – Upon first arriving, we were told by locals that, “Here in New Zealand, you can experience all four seasons in one day.” We had no idea how true the statement was. Clouds. Rain. Hail. Wind. Sunshine. Repeat. You're never sure what to wear in the morning, but know to keep your rain jacket close by.
Kiwi fashion – Some of the guys look like they've stepped out of that bad movie with Emilio Estevez (I think) from the early '90's, Men At Work: mullet haircuts, short rugby shorts, and gum boots. Sexy! Another fashion oddity is going into the supermarket or mall and seeing people walking around barefoot. Where are their gum boots?
Kiwi vocabulary – We speak English, but we're just starting to learn Kiwi. A traditional greeting is “Kia ora, bro.” People eat “fush and chups” and put “Steinies” in the “chillie bin.” Flip flops are “jandals” and the “wopwops” is where you don't want to live. Yesterday, when we asked the nice parking attendant if it was okay to park on the street, she replied “Good as gold.” So we told her that was great news to us by saying, “Sweet as.”
Punakaiki (Pancake) Rocks – On the west coast, another puzzling stopover. Through a layering-weathering process that scientists aren't sure about, limestone has formed into what resembles stacks of thick pancakes. When the tide is just right, the sea surges into caverns and booms through blowholes, causing everyone in the vicinity to be drenched in cold water and be reminded of the awesome power of Mother Nature.
Kiwi friendliness and hospitality – This one has us stumped, and we love it. Kiwis are extremely friendly and love to chat. They think nothing of striking up a conversation with a complete stranger and then inviting them over for dinner, which is exactly what happened to us. We met Joy and Di (Aussie expats) several weeks ago on one of our hikes in the Mount Cook area. They told us to look them up when we came to Nelson, which we did, hoping to meet up for the day. Joy and her husband Mark were excellent hosts. They invited us into their beautiful home, let us take hot showers, fed us yummy veggie lasagna, gave us a comfy bed, and introduced us to their lovely family. Thank you all for your warm hospitality and generous helpings of pumpkin salad!
Sauvignon Blanc – Being a red wine kind of girl, I was a bit skeptical to try the white wine Joy generously poured for us before dinner. But, OMG! Hard to describe, but it has a zingy, fresh, fruity, and almost herbal quality to it. Unbeknown to us cheap-red-wine-in-a-box drinkers, Sauvignon Blanc from the Marlborough region of New Zealand is world-famous. It tastes kind of like champagne without all the bubbles. I've found a new favorite!
Harwood's Hole – Joy and Di, always the adventure buffs, took us on a beautiful hike to this spot near their home. The fern- and moss-filled walk to the southern hemisphere's largest cave made up for the bone-cracking bumpy ride. Harwood's Hole is 400 meters deep and 70 meters wide, with a 183 meter drop. I stayed a safe distance away from the precipice so I could enjoy our picnic lunch.
Abel Tasman National Park – I know we keep saying this about everywhere we go, but it was so beautiful! We were extremely lucky finding a spot at the DOC campsite, which people book for now starting in July. Dumb luck! The five-hour-return coastal walk we did to Separation Point passed stunning bays and coves, and we could smell the fur seals way before seeing them! One of the bays houses Navigator Rock, which the Maori say is the point where they were guided to the South Island hundreds of years ago.
Pupu Springs – Pronounced “poo poo,” it's not the name we would give to the clearest water in the world. Te Waikoropupu Springs are the largest freshwater springs in New Zealand, and reputedly the cleanest, rivaled only by melting glacier ice in Antarctica. It's a very holy place for the Maori, so touching the water is a big no no.
Wharariki Beach – Taking Joy's advice, we visited this remote, desolate beach in Golden Bay to watch the sunset. You have to go through farmland to get to it, and the views are stunning: mighty dune formations, looming rock islets offshore, and a seal colony that we almost bumped into. Jaw-dropping!
As you can see, the last couple of weeks have been mystifying, in a good way. Tomorrow morning we get on a ferry in Picton and will arrive in the North Island three hours later. I'm sure it will keep us amazed as well, with an active Maori culture, volcanoes, hot springs, and geysers.
Choice, eh?
Idalis:
New Zealand is a young country, its present shape less than 10,000 years old. Having broken off from Gondwanaland (which included Africa, Australia, South America, and Antarctica) about 130 million years ago, its endured ice ages, volcanic activity, and erosion. This makes for fantastic scenery and sometimes horrible weather. We've seen it all, it seems: snow capped mountains, glaciers, rainforest, and the most puzzling sight of all, Kiwi “Westie” fashion. Add to the mix a proud Maori culture, superb food and wine, and an adventurous spirit and you have a place that, even after 16 months of travel, has managed to puzzle, confound, delight, awe, and entertain us.
Lucky for us two vagabonds in an old beat up van, there are now roads in former Gondwanaland. They're sometimes bad, often winding, and always full of sheep, but we've been able to experience some amazing, jaw-dropping landscapes that have left us dumbfounded. As has been the case here, the detours have been just as impressive (if not more) than the things we've planned for. Following is a random cornucopia of recent kiwiana that has made us laugh, cry, gape, smile, and scratch our heads (and other body parts):
Puzzle World – Set in the beautiful town of Wanaka, which overlooks a lake, this museum started this whole theme. It has a 3-D maze, a room full of optical illusions enough to make you (at least me) tumble to the ground, and mind-bending puzzles Kevin could solve but I didn't have the patience for. Worse than Sudoku!
Rob Roy Glacier Walk – One of our favorite tramps yet. Although an hour out of Wanaka on a bad corrugated road (bump! bump! bump!), it was well worth the pounding headaches we both got. Beautiful views along the way included brown hills that reminded me of the cocoa-powdered truffles I loved getting at Costco. Yum! The four-hour hike took in glaciers, waterfalls, and a swing bridge, not to mention four thundering avalanches we saw from the safety of our lunch spot!
Sandflies – These devils with wings are everywhere! The sandfly is an ugly black fly that uses our blood to fertilize its eggs and lay them under swift-moving water. How dare they! Only the females bite, which means there are twice as many around. They get into every crevice in the van, and the tiny little spot you forgot to apply repellent to will surely have a welt tomorrow. Kevin even installed screens in the windows, but they somehow find their way in. The bites hurt, and they leave marks that last for weeks. Every night before going to bed, we go on Sandfly Duty and kill as many of the little buggers as we can. To date, the record has been the extermination of 42 sandflies in 12 minutes. I've gotten three bites just writing these few paragraphs!
Driftwood art – Something you and I might do to make the time pass on the beach seems to be a national art form here. Driving along the coast on our way to the glaciers, Kevin and I saw these weird rock and wood formations on Bruce Bay. We stop to marvel at the hundreds of wood sculptures and cairns that have been built, scattered around the beach. We add our own and find out later many seaside towns hold summer competitions for the best ones. Eco-friendly art!
Fox and Franz Josef Glaciers – A “must see” on the west coast of the South Island. Some years they advance, some years they recede, at a rate of up to five meters a day! The early Maori knew Franz Josef as Ka Roimata o Hine Hukatere (Tears of the Avalanche Girl). Legend says a girl lost her lover when he fell from the local peaks, and her flood of tears froze into the glacier. We learned that the blue ice we see on the glacier's peak is actually old snow so compacted that the oxygen is squeezed out, leaving the azure tinge. Our views of Fox Glacier were quite good, but the day we arrived at Franz Josef, the access road was closed at first. Torrential rains had caused poor visibility and swollen rivers. One DOC worker told us they had built a bridge to cross one of the rivers, which only lasted 23 hours before being washed out. Kevin approached one of the swift rivers and caught a piece of glacier ice, which he put in the cooler to keep our chicken cold. I get to marry this genius!
New Zealand weather – Upon first arriving, we were told by locals that, “Here in New Zealand, you can experience all four seasons in one day.” We had no idea how true the statement was. Clouds. Rain. Hail. Wind. Sunshine. Repeat. You're never sure what to wear in the morning, but know to keep your rain jacket close by.
Kiwi fashion – Some of the guys look like they've stepped out of that bad movie with Emilio Estevez (I think) from the early '90's, Men At Work: mullet haircuts, short rugby shorts, and gum boots. Sexy! Another fashion oddity is going into the supermarket or mall and seeing people walking around barefoot. Where are their gum boots?
Kiwi vocabulary – We speak English, but we're just starting to learn Kiwi. A traditional greeting is “Kia ora, bro.” People eat “fush and chups” and put “Steinies” in the “chillie bin.” Flip flops are “jandals” and the “wopwops” is where you don't want to live. Yesterday, when we asked the nice parking attendant if it was okay to park on the street, she replied “Good as gold.” So we told her that was great news to us by saying, “Sweet as.”
Punakaiki (Pancake) Rocks – On the west coast, another puzzling stopover. Through a layering-weathering process that scientists aren't sure about, limestone has formed into what resembles stacks of thick pancakes. When the tide is just right, the sea surges into caverns and booms through blowholes, causing everyone in the vicinity to be drenched in cold water and be reminded of the awesome power of Mother Nature.
Kiwi friendliness and hospitality – This one has us stumped, and we love it. Kiwis are extremely friendly and love to chat. They think nothing of striking up a conversation with a complete stranger and then inviting them over for dinner, which is exactly what happened to us. We met Joy and Di (Aussie expats) several weeks ago on one of our hikes in the Mount Cook area. They told us to look them up when we came to Nelson, which we did, hoping to meet up for the day. Joy and her husband Mark were excellent hosts. They invited us into their beautiful home, let us take hot showers, fed us yummy veggie lasagna, gave us a comfy bed, and introduced us to their lovely family. Thank you all for your warm hospitality and generous helpings of pumpkin salad!
Sauvignon Blanc – Being a red wine kind of girl, I was a bit skeptical to try the white wine Joy generously poured for us before dinner. But, OMG! Hard to describe, but it has a zingy, fresh, fruity, and almost herbal quality to it. Unbeknown to us cheap-red-wine-in-a-box drinkers, Sauvignon Blanc from the Marlborough region of New Zealand is world-famous. It tastes kind of like champagne without all the bubbles. I've found a new favorite!
Harwood's Hole – Joy and Di, always the adventure buffs, took us on a beautiful hike to this spot near their home. The fern- and moss-filled walk to the southern hemisphere's largest cave made up for the bone-cracking bumpy ride. Harwood's Hole is 400 meters deep and 70 meters wide, with a 183 meter drop. I stayed a safe distance away from the precipice so I could enjoy our picnic lunch.
Abel Tasman National Park – I know we keep saying this about everywhere we go, but it was so beautiful! We were extremely lucky finding a spot at the DOC campsite, which people book for now starting in July. Dumb luck! The five-hour-return coastal walk we did to Separation Point passed stunning bays and coves, and we could smell the fur seals way before seeing them! One of the bays houses Navigator Rock, which the Maori say is the point where they were guided to the South Island hundreds of years ago.
Pupu Springs – Pronounced “poo poo,” it's not the name we would give to the clearest water in the world. Te Waikoropupu Springs are the largest freshwater springs in New Zealand, and reputedly the cleanest, rivaled only by melting glacier ice in Antarctica. It's a very holy place for the Maori, so touching the water is a big no no.
Wharariki Beach – Taking Joy's advice, we visited this remote, desolate beach in Golden Bay to watch the sunset. You have to go through farmland to get to it, and the views are stunning: mighty dune formations, looming rock islets offshore, and a seal colony that we almost bumped into. Jaw-dropping!
As you can see, the last couple of weeks have been mystifying, in a good way. Tomorrow morning we get on a ferry in Picton and will arrive in the North Island three hours later. I'm sure it will keep us amazed as well, with an active Maori culture, volcanoes, hot springs, and geysers.
Choice, eh?
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