So there I was in Auckland, New Zealand. A great city with an electric vibe and beautiful waterfront seemingly everywhere. I had been there a day and was ready to venture up north to an area called the Bay of Islands. I didn't really like the idea of taking the bus up there so I figured I would try my hand at hitchhiking.

I make the 30 minute walk to an entrance ramp to the motorway heading north. Having never attempted this before, I flung that thumb out there and waited. It's kind of like fishing where you have the constant excitment that you MIGHT just catch a big fish. As time passes and you inhale more exhaust you start thinking about the possibility of Jennifer Aniston stopping in slow motion with the hair blowing around asking if you need a ride. As soon as the super models started popping into my head, I knew it was time to find a new spot.

Another stroll down to the next on-ramp and another waiting game. On to the next ramp just before the Harbour Bridge while carpel tunnel settled into my thumb. About 15 mintues into this one a Maori (the ORIGINAL big New Zealander people) guy signals to me from across the intersection. It's kind of like when a girl asks you to dance- first thing you do is look behind you to see who they're waving to. I realized it was indeed my chance to exit Auckland.

He was on his way just over the bridge to fix an outboard motor for his father. So 5 minutes out of the 4 hours needed and I was back on the ramp. From there I was picked-up by a young kid and 2 two girls in this tiny little car that had speakers filling the entire inside. I asked if I could hear how this puppy sounded so he cranks up this God awful heavy metal music emitting a tinny blown speaker-esque sound. Luckily he lasted only 3 exits. Next was Rodrigo, a Brazilian guy that had met his future Kiwi (a New Zealand Native) wife in Japan. He got me out to the coast and wished me good luck. Then an older guy in a nice car offered to take me about an hour north. Turns out he does digital media storage for several local and international TV stations.

I was dropped of in Wellsford... a haunting little place with a bunch of farms and one little motel. It was 8:30 PM and I thought I would give it until 9PM then check out my otions at the motel. About quarter till' a guy in a Land Crusier swings by and stops. He looked safe enough, and better yet he was going to the Bay of Islands... my destination. We get talking...

and it turns out his name is Marcus, has his own Marketing Company in Auckland and also does upscale New Zealand tours, complete with private jets and helicopters for those whos can afford them. He was heading up to the Bay of Islands for a 3 day Yachting Regatta and was meeting a bunch of friends.

We get to the Bay of Islands which is a beautiful Marin County, CA-esque kind of area. First things first, we go to a bar that Marcus' buddy owns. The night goes until about 3 AM and we just slightly missed the last ferry to where we were staying by about 5 hours. Marcus says we'll sleep in the car and head over on the first ferry at 6:50 AM. I'm thinking... this is weird as I settle into the leather seat for a few hours shut eye.

The good news is we were first in line for the ferry the next morning. We take it across the bay and then drive to his friends parents house where we will stay. We make our entrance through the gates onto the 40 acre property. The 11 cows and 2 bulls much prefer the middle of the driveway to the acres of grass, as honking and waving finally granted us permission. We drove up to the 2 houses on the property that are massive. The homes are all slate rock and hardwood. Stainless steel everything reflects the light off the water that enters through the huge sliding glass doors. This is home for the next 5 days.

The 7 million dollar property was the last place I thought hitchhiking with a cramped thumb would get me. Here I was... heaven. At the bar that night I met an Australian skipper who had room for another crew member on his boat in the Bay of Island Regatta the following day.

9AM came and I was on the sailboat "Brush Strokes," heading out to sea for the race. The conditions were bad to very bad. 25-30 knot winds and 15 foot swells. I was in charge of trimming the spinnaker sail up front that includes the job description of being the wettest guy on the boat as it jives. We would come about and I would crank and crank the wench until I was knee deep in water, then move up to the elevated side of the boat to keep the weight right.

Sailing went well until we made an error with the kite sail that made the boat breach. We were vertical in the water, the mast of the boat nearly in the choppy water and me hanging on to the cockpit area for dear life as my feet dangled in the water below. A few seconds later the boat righted itself and we got things back to normal. Overall we placed 7th out of 8 boats in our class that day, but had a damn good time.

The next few days brought kayaking, tennis, windsurfing, running and golf. We left the Bay of Islands sore and tired on Sunday night. I had sat in the lap of luxury.

We got back to Auckland after cruising down the coast with the pro tour guide learning about all sorts of famous beaches and surf breaks. He took us by a restaurant where he had a fond memory he shared with us from a regatta he sailed there. The race was over and the crews were celebrating at a small bar near the marina. He got to talking to a little Wahinee (Maori for "Woman"), and things were going his way. She took a liking to him and they skirted out to the parking lot to consumate the hour old relationship. He thought this is just amazing, getting himself a little no-no on the hood of a car while everyone else is carrying on with the party. The deed had been done, the goodbye's were said and he started heading back to the boat he was staying on when the entire marina explodes into a celebration of clapping and shouting for the lad. Apparently a few of the yachts had night vision binoculars aboard and everyone had taken turns watching the entire thing. We had dinner at the spot of humiliation.

Yesterday another one of the guys Marcus had sailed with took me out kayaking to a volcanic island that was formed just 500 years ago. There are actually pubs in England older than this island. Auckland and the surrounding area is comprised of 52 volcanoes. We made the hour long kayak adventure to the island and hiked an hour and a half to the summit that overlooks Auckland. The entire island is littered with giant black lava stones. They absorb heat to make it a hot hike. We scrambled into a few lava caves and made the kayak trip back to land.

A barbeque of lamb chops, steak, chicken and sausage was prepared for my last meal in luxury last night. As of this morning I am back on the streets to start my trek down south.

I sat in the lap of luxury...