Finding My Fix: Chronicles of a Travel Junkie

So I left off with the Nature Reserve, so now you get to hear about the killer ducks. I can’t remember the name of the town, but at this town, we got off highway 1, and followed signs that stopped telling you which direction to go at the most inconvenient of times. They sent us about ten different ways, through some neighborhoods with old people wandering around. The funny thing was, I think I should probably point out, is that there was a sign that cautioned us that we would be heading into “urban area” soon, but all we could see were the same sort of quarter acre lots you would see in the US “suburbs,” with quarter sized, but well maintained homes on each. I’d hate to find out what a New Zealander thinks a suburb is. One thing I have to give Kiwis kudos for (one of a good number of things actually) is the fact that no two houses look alike. I have seen absolutely no cookie cutting anywhere. Maybe it’s there, but they’ve kept it out of my view.

And now the story of the killer ducks….

We finally found the lot, back off the main road, passed a construction crew with one out of place worker with billabong shorts, a T-shirt, and dregs, and passed a flock of funny black and blue birds with orange beaks walking along the road. Lucky for us, the road was paved, but strangely enough, the parking lot was not. We were the first visitors of the day, and to reward us, the nice man at the desk gave us each a complimentary bag of duck food. Little did we know those bags of duck food would be the end of us.

We strolled unsuspectingly out of the visitor centre, and onto the lawn, and were headed for stop number one, the whosiewhatsit bird species. Next thing we know one nasty little black duck came up from behind and gave my mum a warning peck on the back of her leg. He struck again in the same place. And Mum took off at a quick pace for the safety of the kiwi house. I took my chances and headed for the bridge over the duck pond. The doomsday duck army came waddling after us. They laughed their evil laugh at us as we gave in and spilled duck food by the cup full into the water of the pond.

If you don’t believe me, I have photographic evidence of them, the little buggers!

So… once free of the evildoers, we took a look around at the eel pond, but saw no eels, and a bushwalk in some of the last remaining natural in-tact bush. The “worm of wisdom” as the reserve’s mascot seemed to be, told us on a sign tacked to a tree that mud fish lived in that bush. They’re the kind that burrow in the mud when the water dries up. We saw water, but we saw no mud fish. And of course, we had to get a look at the kiwis in the kiwi house, but all we saw was the black and white image of the kiwi on the kiwi cam. Oh, and I managed to scare a poor innocent owl by pacing back and forth in front of his cage. Poor thing, I just thought it was funny to watch his head go back and forth. We survived the second onslaught of the ducks by clapping our hands and making a lot of raucus. What I was not able to stop was a bird landing on my shoulder, or well, my arm which I happened to bring up next to my head when I realised I had entered the cage of the birds that would land on your head. We got out of there pretty quick.

Sorry to leave you in the lurch again, but since I have no phone here at the moment, I have to do all my planning with people via, “let’s meet at such and such a place at such and such a time.” This time it’s Stafford House at 7, and since English is not the first language of most of the other international students I have befriended, it takes time to make sure everyone understands.

Tags: 1. Australasia, 1A. New Zealand, 1A1. North Island

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