well i’m on my way…

After a few days of being lazy and checking out the museums of Dunedin, Naomi and I were more than ready to leave Dunedin.

We followed the brown sign with a squiggly mark on it that would lead us the more scenic route to the “southern most city in New Zealand” – Invercargill.  It followed the coast a bit through Kaka Point, where we had to stop and take photos of the sign for obvious reasons.  We then stopped at Nugget Point to walk to the lighthouse and look at the nugget shaped rocks that lied just past the coast.  We were high on a cliff but could still see baby seals playing with eachother andt he older ones lying on the rocks.

It started pissing down rain so the scenery wasn’t that great, though we were driving through forests and hilly pastures of cows and sheep.  We stumbled across a parked purple caravan called The Lost Gypsy Caravan so we went inside. The owner came out to greet us since Naomi was having a hard time parking and led us inside once the car was safely parked and turned off.  The man was clearly nuts-he’s an inventor of sorts, had wired up a bunch of toys all used on solar energy or wind-up mechanism.  What was also cool is that when we walked up, he was playing Ani Difranco’s Evolve album.  We played with his toys and kept on pressing the button that turned on the train that ran along a track thoughout the room.  The best way to describe this place is that it’s an electrical engineer’s playground, as all are invited to try out his inventions except for the ones on the fishing wired off shelves claiming “Do not touch-work in progress”.  We stayed for about an hour until the rain stopped so we could continue on to Invercargill.

Invercargill is, as the locals say, is “Invercargill”, when asked anything about the town, especially about its nightlife, or lack thereof.  We did nothing but sleep in Invercargill  and prepare ourselves for Stuart Island and the Rakiura Track-my first New Zealand tramp.  The next day we drove down to Bluff to take the ferry over to Stuart Island-the third island known for nonstop rain and kiwi birds.

Supposedly.  I keep on hearing all these random facts and just realized that I’ve been told that ‘this is the biggest, longest, tallest, most, farthest, etc’ for most of the things I’ve seen.  Who’s counting?  Who can actually translate that?  Really.  Some people must think tourists are pretty stupid.  Anywhoo, enough of my rant. 

My first full day in Dunedin I set out to climb the steepest street in the world.  (Really?)  Anyway, I’m here and had to do it.  I walked the hour to the street, walked up it, wasn’t as hard as I anticipated, took a celebratory photo at the top, and walked back down.  If I wasn’t talking to the people I met at the top on the way down I’m sure I would have noticed that the walk down was much harder…I walked through the Botannical Gardens on my way back into town.  Botannical Gardens are great.  It seems every city, and even larger towns, have one.  I will definately have to check out the Chicago version when I get home. 

That night, my friend Naomi I met on the houseboat met me at the hostel.  She rented a car and we’re going to explore the southland together.  She likes to travel like I do, really see a place, and there’s no language barrier as she’s Canadian.  I don’t feel the reserves about traveling with her as I did with Matheiu and even Cameron. 

The next day, we got up early to check out the sights.  We drove into town, which took longer than it would have to walk, but it was fun.  Naomi rented a manual (thank god, I don’t have to drive) and is still a bit rusty on it herself.  She stalled at nearly every light, had a hard time trucking up the steep hills, and yelled at the car while I laughed, causing her to laugh and lose concentration…Don’t worry (I’m not), she’s a good driver, but she was a little rusty having just woken up and it had been a while since she’d driven stick.

We went to the Settlers Museum, which was just another museum until we walked into a room with photos of many of the settlers when they arrived in the 1850s and 60s.  It was incredible.  I looked into all the faces and spent a lot of time in there.  The temperature seemed a bit lower than in the other rooms of the museum, and the people seemed to be staring me right in the eyes, and it was just so fascinating.  All these people-who are they?  What are their stories?  What was it like-the journey here, the arrival, the beginnings of their new lives?  

We went to the Cadbury factory after that and got a rushed tour of the place–the coolest part was all the free chocolate, including Crunchies (my favorite).  At the end of the tour we saw the ‘only chocolate drop in the Southern Hemisphere-no actually the world’ of a liquid ton of chocolate.  Give me a break.  But you know it smelled soooo good in there!

After indulging in chocolate, Naomi wanted to get out of the city and head to the peninsula.  I was very happy to be by the sea-something we’re both mesmerized by.  We drove along windy roads along the coast-no guardrails between the car and the sea and I learned that our car insurace covers everything-except we can’t ‘submerge the vehicle’.  

We got to the carpark where you can see penguins and other wildlife and started following the trail.  We first walked through some sheep fields, which I thought was stunning because you could see the sea behind it.  We walked some more down some steps and the ocean opened up practically beneath our feet.  Well, actually, the sand dunes started falling beneath our feet and we had to almost run down the steep slopes to keep from falling with the sand-but we were heading toward the beach which we both seemed to do with our arms outstretched.  

The waves were magnificent and we stared at them a while in wonder but noticed a group of people at the end of the beach, probably waiting for the penguins to come in.  We started heading toward them but stopped abrubtly when we noticed seals and sea lions in our path, just lazing about on the beach.  One was ‘striking a pose’ for us and the others were smelling eachother while basking in the sun.  We watched them for a while while I wondered how I could ever visit a zoo again.

After we got bored of watching the seals lie there, we walked some more, and ran into more guys, definately passed out.  I got as close as I dared until the seal opened his eyes and let out a big yawn.  Perfect photo!  When he started to move I scurried away and left him in peace.  We headed toward the penguin colony and met a DOC (department of conservation) guy, who was warning people where not to sit, and that the penguins are molting now, get sick during that time, and don’t really go out to sea, therefore they don’t come in for us to view.  There was one really sick guy who set up his camp in a very visible area, so he showed us the penguin.  He reminded Naomi and I of the penguins in Happy Feet, namely the ‘king’ with the six-pack rings stuck around his neck.  Poor lil guy!

We watched the sea and noticed that down the beach the seals were playing.  We were both suprised at how quickly they were running-that something that was being so lazy before could move at such a speed!  They ran back and fourth with eachother and splashed about in the waves, just playing.  It was too cool.  I could hear my Mother’s voice exclaiming ‘Sealers!’ in my head. 

The day after St Pats I met up with Rebecca as promised.  We booked our dive and it wasn’t until hours later I realized what I had done.  CRAP!

The next morning I awoke with dread and looked at the sky.  The clouds were still pink from the sunrise and I suddenly felt calm.  I called the skydiving company to confirm my dive and they told me it had been cancelled due to the wind.  They also told me that my friend, Rebecca had resceduled me for the next morning.  I told them to remove me from the list, that I’d think about it and I’d call back if I changed my mind.  I hung up the phone and only stared at it for about two minutes.  I knew I’d regret this if I didn’t do it, plus, it’d be bad karma to ditch Rebecca like this.  So I called back, and they told me to be ready to be picked up at 1030, as the weather was supposed to clear up by then.

At 1030 I met up with Rebecca and a few other people not-so-ready to skydive for the first time.  We took the hour and twenty minute ride to the field, and as we got close, watched big rolling clouds coming our way.  We filled out some paperwork, suited up, and got instructions about the jump.  Rebecca and I were starting to squeal to each other about how scared we were…and then the guys we were to be strapped to came up to us and told us that we couldn’t dive.  The wind had picked up and the sky was getting dark.  We were disappointed and relieved at the same time, but booked ourselves for our second (or third?) attempt the next morning.

I woke up the next morning very calm.  I felt like I was done being scared, and now it was just about completing the dive.  When I called to confirm, the woman was super cheerful when she told me the weather was great, and to be ready at 830 for pickup.

The drive out to the field seemed longer this day, as Rebecca and I watched horrified as the sky went from being clear to completely overcast.  We got to the field and were told that as long as the clouds stay high, we were fine.  We suited up rather quickly and were practically rushed into the plane.  My emotions kept on switching from excited to terrified and back again very quickly.

I was a bit calm on the ride up, looking at the scenery and watching my tandemmaster’s altitude meter.  When we got to 10,000 feet, he told me to put my glasses on and that was when I got scared.  I told him that I didn’t want to do it and he just laughed.  There were seven of us in the plane, Rebecca and I, our tandom guys, our photographers, and one random guy.  We both freaked out when the random guy just pencil dropped himself out of the plane.  She went first and screamed bloody murder until her tandom guy nonchalantly slipped out of the plane.

I was scared shitless at this point, wondering if I had made a mistake, although I knew there was no turning back.  My tandem guy slid me towards the door and before I knew it, I was hardly balanced on the edge of the plane.  I had no time to think when I felt myself hurling towards the clouds below.  The fear only lasted about 5 seconds (??) until the falling feeling from dropping from the plane dissipated.  My instructions were to look at the camera guy and smile so I was focused on searching for him, but not before I checked out what I was falling towards-the tops of mountains.  It was breathtaking-literally, though I’m not sure it was from the view or myself falling at a very fast speed.

I was looking at the photographer and smiling hard.  I even did the devil horns sign and tried to stick my tongue out-an impossible feat when you’re falling through the air.  I had time to think to myself that this is the most amazing thing I’ve done or seen in my life right before I felt tears coming to the backs of my eyes–and then I felt myself jerked back when the parachute opened.  It was amazing floating around, looking at the mountains and fields.  I felt like a bird.  The tandemmaster offered me the handles to steer, but I was completely happy not doing anything, just enjoying the scenery and the flying feeling.  I thought the ride was too short and I definately preferred the freefall to the floating.  If they offered a second ride at half price, I would have gladly hopped on the plane again.

When we landed, we slid on the ground on our bottoms.  The grass felt like a slide and the landing was so much smoother than I had expected.  My camera guy helped me to my feet and I realized I was shaking.  Rebecca and I took photos of ourselves together, and realized our hands were still shaking!

We were the first to go out of six people going, so we had to wait around.  It was fun not being the rookie anymore and looking at the fear on their faces.  We finally calmed down and enjoyed the scenery-mountains, hills covered in pines, horses, sheep, and wide open skies.

When we got back to Christchurch I called my father.  He was a paratrooper in the Army years ago, and I knew he’d be proud, that the ‘apple didn’t fall far from the tree’.  He was thrilled to hear from me and sounded so excited that I had skydived, excited that we could have another thing in common.  He told me that he would get me a tattoo when I got home of a paratrooper-which is something that I’ll hold him to!

The day after the disappointing whale experience I woke up excited as a child on Christmas morning-except it was St Patrick’s Day.  I went downstairs and to my delight, the lobby area and reception had been decorated with green and gold balloons.  Even the girl working reception was decked out in green and a leprechaun hat.  I was almost sad we were leaving Kaikoura and going to Christchurch for the celebrations, but I knew that the city would be a better celebration.

After napping on the bus ride there, I woke up recharged and ready to go.  We passed by so many Irish pubs and people celebrating on our walk to the hostel.  I claimed my bed and was ready to go.  My Irish friend John-Paul was already at a pub called The Bog and I was supposed to meet him there.  When I got to the pub, I had aGuinness, trying to keep the spirit.  I’ve never had a more watered down Guinness in my life and honestly had a very hard time finishing it.  I did and promptly switched to the local beer, figuring as long as I was in the right frame of mind, it didn’t matter what was getting me there.

I found John Paul with quite a few Irish people, an Isreali who was attempting the Irish jig all night, and an Aussie girl who was planning to skydive in two days and wanted to know if anyone would do it with her.  I was already on my way out of soberland, so I agreed.  We planned to meet at Starbucks the next day at 2.  I’m not sure if either of us thought the other would be there.   (Is anyone sensing foreshadowing here?)

The band was decent, played a lot of jigs and reels, and not as many sing-alongs as I would have liked, but they still kept the atmosphere fun.  I seemed to hear brogues everywhere, and even found myself in a contest with other non-Irish to see whose fake Irish accent was best.  We had to say “Top of the mornin to ya” and “cup o tea” and I won.  I won nothing, but knowing that a bunch of drunk Irish people thought I sounded most like them made my day.

The band switched to an American cover band song, which I was a bit annoyed at, but danced and sang along with my new friends anyway.  It was an excellent St Patricks Day, but didn’t compare to my usual festivities-being my cousin’s groupie with my family and friends.  Thinking about this St Patrick’s day compared to others lead me to this realization:  I didn’t miss my family for Christmas, I didn’t miss my friends for New Years, but I missed everyone on St Patrick’s Day.  I now know that St Pat’s is my favorite holiday.

From Nelson we took the bus to Kaikoura, a touristy town on it’s own little peninsula.  It’s probably one of the best places for whale watching in the world since they’re in the area year round.  I was skeptical about the entire whale watching experience; my mother went a few years ago and I didn’t understand her excitement-it’s just whale’s tails anyway.  I debated for a while whether I should pay the $140 or not to check out the whales, then decided that since I’m in Kaikoura I should do it.  I might regret it if I don’t do it, right?

We signed up for the early tour-7:45 and headed out on the water.  We didn’t have to wait long to spot our first whale, or the whale’s back I should say.  We watched him or her blow its hole and move around a little bit.  I snapped photos like the rest of the people on board.  When the whale was about to go under, the captain warned us-a little too excitedly-and I got ready to take my photo.  I snapped quickly but still didn’t get the photo you see on postcards.  It’s a side view and we were not close.  I decided to just watch for the second whale encounter-I’m a firm believer in seeing things through my own eyes, not just snapping countless photos to prove I was there.  And I was unaffected by the swish of the tail as it waved at us as the whale dove down to the depths of the ocean.  The third sighting, which was supposedly a treat-as two sightings is average, I focused on getting the perfect photo, which of course, I didn’t.

I got one of my nausea-less migranes where my head hurts, I have massive pressure behind my eyes, and am sensitive to light, so I slept through the rest of the ride back to shore, even when the boat stopped to look at some Albatrosses. (Is that the correct plural form of them?)

When we got off and I expressed my disinterest, Mathieu asked me if I liked any animals besides cats.  I thought about it for a minute to figure out where my interest in animals lied.  And I realized that I only like animals that live on land, even if it’s only for part of the time, like seals, and flightless birds.  I love penguins but seagulls and parrots just creep me out.  And if you read my Great Barrier Reef entry, you’ll recall that I found the fish a bit creepy as well.

So I’m glad I went whale watching, I guess, but after doing it, I could honestly say I’d be happier with the $140 in my pocket, minus what it would cost for a postcard with the perfect whale tail on it.

The skies were beautiful and the sea was calm when we geared up and got in our kayaks.  The tour was small, only four people including the guide.  The other person was a woman from Colorado, but grew up in Chicago. 

We paddled out to some unexplainable perfectly split rock and an island where there were seals lying about.  One guy slipped off the rocks and came slithering through the water towards our kayaks.  She looked so graceful slinking through the water and I wanted to join her…but we paddled on instead to another island and parked on the beach for tea.  I was standing on the beach looking out at the perfect blue water with the mountains in the mist behind it, thinking I was in paradise when I felt a sting on my back.  I figured it was a sand fly, but when the pain didn’t dissipate, I looked behind me and saw a massive bee trying to detacht itself from my skin!  I pulled him out and made the tour guide check for the stinger that wasn’t there.  So he didn’t get me too bad, but still.  Damn bee. 

We paddled some more and stopped on another beach for lunch.  For dessert we had the most amazing carrot cake I’ve had in my life.  The longer we sat on the beach the waves were getting a bit more violent and the sky was becoming gray, so we headed out rather quickly. 

We stayed near the coast and had to paddle furiously because the wind was in our face.  We were all paired up in double kayaks and Matheiu was behind me, steering, or at least he was supposed to.  I looked back at one point and he was taking photos!  I had been paddling like crazy trying to get around the corner and felt like I was going backwards-no wonder!  We got around the corner and the waves were a bit bigger; we would fall a few feet down at the end of each wave, getting soaked with every paddle.  For a second I thought to myself “This is crazy” but then realized that there is no thinking and that I just had to do.  My mind became so clear at that moment and all I focused on was paddling, the waves, and how freakin awesome it was that we were out at sea with nothing but either fiberglass or plastic between us and the ocean.  It was somehow calming and I was thrilled to be out there.  I started wondering if kayaking could be a feasible means of transport…

We got around the ‘rapids’ and into the bay we were staying in for the night.  We were booked onto a houseboat!  How cool is that?  We got to the beach and had to wait for the guy to pick us up in his raft to take us to the boat.  We got on the boat and were shown to our “room”-the bunks below deck!  The beds were lined up along the wall-the top bunk only 2 feet above the bottom.  It was too cool.  I could definately feel the rocking of the boat and was a bit concerned.  After a while I learned to love it, and was looking forward to being rocked to sleep.  Dinner was cooked for us-a treat-and there was plenty to go around.  I had coleslaw, Indian rice, and vegetarian pie-kind of like lasagna-and everyone else had some kind of beef. 

Mathieu and I were looking at a map again and I expresed to him that I cannot travel like he does.  It’s not how I am, and I can’t expect him to travel like me.  We have different styles and that I don’t think it will work.  He was a bit alarmed about the car situation and I do feel bad.  I’m sure I’ve broken all travel etiquette rules by saying I will rent a car and backing out at the last minute, but I know I would be miserable moving that fast.  And when I’m miserable, everyone around me is.  Plus, I miss Laura time.  I likes me own company! 

The crowd was very mixed-quite a few locals just hanging out for the weekend, of course backpackers, and some older couples on holiday from the UK.  It was a semi quiet night and we chatted until pretty late.  I hung out w/ some girls and talked about religion, politics, philosophy, and girl stuff-which is something I haven’t done in a long time.  It was nice.

We were hiking the next day one small section of the Abel Tasman track and we got a late start, as the tide was already coming in and we had a river to cross.  I took off my boots and waded across-the water was nearly to my waist!  Crazyness!  Mathieu wanted to find some path leading to a pool, so after I crossed, realized I had to get back in the water and head upstream to meet him at the path.  I hesitated a bit, debating on wading on the rocks or swimming up the middle.  I opted for the rocky way, which wasn’t good, since I the rocks were slippery and I did a lot of pausing checking out my next move.  The tide was rising quickly and I ended up swimming upstream.  It was crazy and cool-I definately enjoyed myself, but for some strange reason while I was heading upstream I was actually picturing myself walking on pavement in a city surrounded by skyscrapers.  

I met up with Mathieu and we walked through palms and pines, which to me seems like a strange combination, but it’s everywere I’ve been in New Zealand so far.  The walk was nice but the path was quite uneven so I was looking down a lot.  Ani Difranco lyrics popped in my head:  “When I look down I miss all the good stuff; When I look up I just trip over things”.  We were quiet during the walk, taking in the scenery, but I also did a lot of thinking about my life and travel and how it all fits together.  And that I’m not traveling to see as many things as I can, but to see as much as I can, whether I have to spend weeks in a place or not.  I knew this before but it seemed so much more clear to me now, in the middle of a national park looking at the forest, beaches, and seemingly endless ocean.

After our 5 hour trek, a water taxi picked us up.  We saw more seals and a stingray and drove in cirlces in every bay we passed.  It was awesome, even hitting all the wakes from the bigger boats.  I’m definately becoming a water girl and I’m not sure if Chicago will satisfy my new love for the sea…         

It’s only been 6 days since I last posted but it feels like a lot longer than that:  this is the third town I’ve been in since then and I’m not used to traveling this quickly…

Mathieu and I took the ferry from Wellinton to Picton on the South Island on Monday.  I was feeling a bit sea sick-I didn’t vomit but I was a bit nautious.  It could have had something to do with the drinking I did the night before, or the strong smell of the fuel we couldn’t escape no matter where we were on the boat.  The scenery was amazing!  The combination of pine and palm trees covering the hills/mountains/extinct volcanoes (I’m not really sure about the geological aspect of the place, so I’m just assuming it’s all extinct volcanoes) stretched down to the sea.  There were so many little coves and beaches and it was really neat and beautiful. 

There isn’t much to say about Picton except the hostel we stayed in.  Picton is the town where the ferries arriving from Wellington land.  The town consists of two blocks and a waterfront.  There was an aquarium, but I wasn’t about to check that out.  The hostel was super chill, had an amazing outdoor common area and a hottub!  As soon as I claimed my bed I put my suit on and got in.  It was super hot and hard to stay in, but I think I was in for about 2 hours.  The next day we started making plans and booked a car.  In hindsight, I think we should have looked at a map and discussed our own travel plans before we booked the car.  I couldn’t be bothered and read at the hostel all day.  I’m pretty sure Mathieu was bored as he has to be doing something all the time.  Should have taken that as a sign…

The next day we took the bus to Nelson and arrived in the middle of the day.  We checked in, booked a kayak/tramp tour for the Abel Tasman National Park, and walked around the city.  I’m looking at my diary and I only wrote what was going through my head, not what we did, so I’m guessing it was an uneventful day.

The next day was our only full day in Nelson so we went to the museum and purchased warm clothes.  I brought mostly summer clothes aside from my North Face and it’s only going to get colder.  I have a feeling that the temperatures I’m experiencing are about the same I would be if I was at home.  I bought a set of long johns-top and bottom set.  And they aren’t green!  I tried getting lost like I usually do, by wandering down streets that don’t have a lot of people in them, looking for the suburban part of the city, but Mathieu kept on pulling out his Lonely Planet to see what there is to do.  I started calling him an “American tourist”, a title I’m sure he woudn’t like (hell, I don’t like it) but he kept his grasp firmly on the book. 

So when we got back to the hostel, he started looking at the map and flipping through his book.  I’ve been talking to people, and doing some thinking about what I really really want to see, knowing that for me to do everything I want to will take years and we only have three weeks with the car.  We sat down and looked at the map and he showed me the route he thinks we should take and what he wants to see.  I told him what I really want to see, and they were some of the things he wants to as well.  I pulled out my calendar and realized that for us to see everything he wants to, we can only stay in a place two days maximum, most of them one day.  Some of these places are big cities and natural areas that will take way longer than 2 days to check out.  I told him that we need to get rid of some things, his response was “But these are the ‘fay-moose’ places I want to see”.  I was beginning to think that I’ve joined a tour.  Which is not really my style.  I expressed this and he told me that it would be impossible to stay a week in all of these places.  I agreed with this, but maybe we could eliminate some places.  He wasn’t too keen on that, so I tried to explain what compromise meant in the most basic way I could think of (there is a bit of language barrier between the two of us).  I know he saw the disappointment in my face but I’m not sure he could tell how hopelessly trapped I felt.

But we were going kayaking the next day so I put on my happy face (which I was honestly thrilled about) and said we’d talk later about this.

My mission Friday morning was to join WWOOF (Willing Workers on Organic Farms).  WWOOF is a program where people can work in exchange for a bed and food-usually for a stay of about 2 weeks.  A lot of backpackers do it when they run out of money so they don’t have to change their flights home.  Other backpackers actually travel around WWOOFing from place to place to get a different feel for a place.  This program has farms all over the world.  I’m doing it because I want to give my funds a break (by no means am I running out) and to learn something about organics and farming and different ways of life.  I think it’ll be a good experience for me, or anyone for that matter.  I will probably do this in a few weeks, after traveling the South Island.  Some of the people I met in Paihia are WWOOFing as well, so maybe I’ll do it with them? 

I went to the famous Te Papa museum and could only get through half of it before my brain was on information overload.  The first two floors have excellent exhibits on the flora and fauna of New Zealand including the largest squid ever found, tectonic plates and movement, volcanoes, and a really nice video on the effects of the land on the people.    

I ran into Mathieu and his friend Marion at the hostel and we started making plans for our trip in the South Island.  I know I mentioned Mathieu before, but I feel like I should tell you about him so you don’t get the wrong idea.  One drunken night in Cairns, I went outside to look for a smoker to give me a cigarette.  I found two Frenchmen-one smoking and asked him for one.  Since the man gave me a smoke, I had to hang out and chat, right?  Mathieu was the non-smoker and they thought me how to say ‘Cheers’ in French.  Sante!  On the first day of the Ayers Rock tour, Mathieu came up to me and said loudly in front of everyone “I remember you from Cairns, you were very drunk”.  After I got over my embarassment, I figured out who he was and explained to him that I wasn’t that drunk.  So a few days after that I’m sitting in a hostel in Adelaide eating breakfast and Mathieu walks in the room.  We couldn’t decide who was following who so we left it at that and hung out a bit and promised to keep in touch.  We both knew we would be in New Zealand around the same time, so why not?  We already kind of know eachother, he will drive (I can’t drive at home, so I’m not going to attempt to drive on the other side of the road) and I can help him with his English.  I think it’s a fair exchange.

The next day Mathieu and I went to Te Papa and started at the top of the building and worked our way down.  There was a decent local art exhibit and an interpretive exhibit on the Waitangi Treaty-I’m still trying to understand what happend-but I’m pretty sure the jist of it is that the whites lied to the indigenous for the purchase/stealing of the land.  There was a massive exhibit on the Maori and their culture focusing on their music, dress, and homes.  There was also an exhibit on the immigration of Europeans to New Zealand.  A lot of the exhibits were very interactive and were fun for adults as well as children.  My brain turned off after about 3 hours and I had to leave.  I don’t know how Mathieu coninued through the museum.  I found a massage place down the street from my hostel and decided I deserved a treat (yes, I know, this entire trip is a treat), my back is getting messed up from all the weight I’m carrying and I’m going to be doing some crazy workouts-trekking for days on end, climbing glaciers, and kayaking-to name a few and I wanted to feel refreshed and rejuvinated.  I paid the $100 for the 90 minute massage (a little over $50 USD!!) and when I left I felt so relaxed that in fact, I felt high.  I was so out of it I sat on the bench in front of my hostel and just sat, enjoying the body buzz.  Mathieu came back and we started making real plans like booking things while I sobered up.  We wandered around and found the infamous “beehive” building.  The beehive was not really as beehive-ish as I thought it would, but the Parliament building behind it was beautiful.  On our way back, we saw some crazy acrobatics in an open area on the harbour.  It was really amazing what these people could do with their bodies, and noticing their strength and muslces it made me realize that I’m going to be testing my body’s ability to do a lot of things very soon-and I’ve been treating it like crap.  I haven’t really broken a sweat since before I left home!  I have a feeling that I’m much less fit than I think I am but there’s only one way to find out…

I noticed in our plan making that we would be doing some camping and being exposed to the weather (how I didn’t anticipate this I don’t know).  I don’t have a sleeping bag or a raincoat-two crucial things I’ll need on the South Island.  That was my mission for Sunday.  There are a few outdoors shops within meters of eachother so I didn’t have to run all over town.  I called my sister to find out the specs of my sleeping bag at home, which would have been sufficient here, and tried not to get too upset that I didn’t bring it.  After 3 hours of inquiring and comparing prices, I went with Kathmandu and chose a down sleeping bag warm up to 0 Celcius and a cute pink raincoat.  Both were on sale but I still ended up paying $480 for the two.  It’s a little over half that in my native currency, which made me feel a little better, but I really need to stop converting.  I just hope I can sell the sleeping bag before I leave New Zealand and get most of my money back! 

I met up with Mathieu and we climbed to the top of Mt Victoria-the highest point that overlooks the city and bay areas around it.  It was a really clear day (from my guess unusually clear for Wellington) so we could see all the mountains and water around.  It was beautiful.  Since it was our last night in town, we decided to take advantage of Mathieu’s buy one get one vouchers at his hostel’s bar.  We had 3 beers each and were thinking about leaving when I noticed my Irish friend from Auckland at the bar!  I went up to him, and at the right time, since he bought me a drink-Snakebite is a combination of beer, cider, and a dash of blackcurrant.  It’s a bit too sweet for my liking, but it’s a nice way to disguise the nastyness of the cheap beer in backpackers.  I talked to him for a while, reminiscing about Auckland and the people we left there, and taking about our future plans in New Zealand.  I guess we talked quite a bit, because when I left, I paused outside and a guy instantly tried to pick me up and thought I was Irish!  I have a tendency to pick up words or ways of speaking of the people around me, but I think Irish is the easiest for me…and this wasn’t the first time someone has asked me if I’m Irish!  Yeah, I’m proud of my Irish roots.     

I made it to the train station early this morning, and it’s a good thing I was.  The train signals were messed up somewhere between the stop prior to Auckland and Auckland.  The Overlander passengers (myself included) had to wait an hour before a bus came to take us to the train.  There was one very soft spoken employee explaining the problem, and it became more of a problem because there was only one of him and many disgruntled passengers.  When we arrived at the train, many people pushed and shoved to get to the front so they could check in.  Some other people, including myself, stood back and let them fight:  the train wasn’t going anywhere without all the passnegers, and if we were already an hour late, what’s another 30 minutes?

I somehow managed to fall in and out of sleep most of the day, with one 2 hour stint in there as well.  I brought with me two apples and five muesli (granola) bars, hopefully enough to tide me over for the day.  The train left Auckland at 830 am(an hour late) and was originally due to arrive in Wellington, the capital city, at 730 pm(which we only ended up being 15 minutes late for).  By the time we got to Wellington I was famished.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  The scenery was beautiful.  No, I take that back.  It’s stunning.  And this is the North Island.  The South Island is supposed to be better.  Having read most of the entire trilogy of the Lord of the Rings, including The Hobbit, I can see why the director chose New Zealand to film these based on this train journey alone.  The lush forest and palm covered hills and mountains really play with the imagination.  I’ve heard that New Zealand’s scenery is comparable to Ireland’s.  I can see where the person was coming from, but they forgot to mention that New Zealand would be Ireland on steriods.  Where Ireland has hillls, NZ has mountains.  Where Ireland has valleys, NZ has rivers cutting through the forests.  Ireland has lots of cows and sheep, it’s a given.  But New Zealand has to have that amount times 1000.  OK, I’m exaggerating.  But you get the picture, that is, if you’ve been to Ireland, but most of my readers from home have. 

We arrived in Auckland 15 minutes behind schedule, how I’m not sure, since the train seemed to be going very slow.  I found a map outside the train station, located the street my hostel was on, and headed in some direction.  Feeling stubborn, I decided not to take out my map, and of course got lost.  Or a little off track as I prefer to say.  I asked a cab driver and he gave me so crazy directions, I’m sure to confuse me so I’d get in his car.  He failed and I headed off in the direction he pointed me in.  I stopped in Subway since I was famished and asked the sandwich artist-he didn’t know.  I unwillingly busted out my Lonely Planet in the middle of the mall and tore out the map (why those pages aren’t perforated I’ll never know) and found out I was heading in the wrong direction. 

I got to my hostel, dumped my bag on the ground, claimed my bed, and headed back out to walk around Wellington.  It’s a bar and cafe town, and it being Thursday the places were already overflowing.  I walked for a few hours, just following the lights, probably in circles, not wanting to go in anywhere since I felt and looked like crap from sitting on the train all day, and was not about to walk into a bar by myself…I headed back to the hostel around midnight and went straight to sleep.

Anders was leaving for Auckland on Monday so Robyn, Jonas, and Ine went with him, cashing in on the free ride.  It was quite a show, since Anders’ car wasn’t really equipped with a boot and Robyn had three bags and Jonas had a tent and sleeping bag on top of his pack.  Everyone that was still at the hostel waited for them to leave to say goodbye and see if they would really all fit.  The back of the “clown car” was low to the ground as they drove away. 

Camelo, the Sweede born in Chile who spoke Spanish, Sweedish, and English; Chris, and I decided to go to Russel, the other port town on the bay.  I wanted to go to the beach and they wanted to get out of Paihia.  Americans Anna and Alyson from the hostel were heading there too, so we decided to make a group out of it.  We had to walk about half an hour to the beach, but it was well worth it.  The beach was secluded, with forest all around it and all you could see apart from the sea was islands.  It was beautiful!  We laid on the beach and when the water started getting rough, we all headed in to play in the waves.  I felt like a kid again and did not want to get out when everyone else did, but we were planning a feast for dinner and I was hungry.

We found some cheap avocadoes (they’re from New Zealand too) so the girls and I were going to make guacamole.  We went to the supermarket and picked up ingredients for a salad, guac, and toasties (grilled cheese) that Chris had plans for.  Alyson made a salad of lettuce, oranges, red onion, walnuts, and French dressing.  Anna mixed store bought salsa with the avos (actually really good) while I semi prepared the toasties while Chris cooked.  First he made some banana and peanut butter guys (Elvis style, Tennesse born Alyson told us), and then went crazy with the toasties.  He sauted some garlic, green pepper, and red onion to put in with the cheese.  It was so good.  He also made some with tuna as well (backpacker food staple), but of course, I didn’t have any of that.  It was nice to prepare a meal with people and to sit down to an actual meal.  It’s been a while. 

We decided that we wanted to drink so we sent the girls to get beer.  They’re 19 and 20 so they’re super excited to be able to purchase alcohol…Upon their return we found a deck of cards and started playing drinking games.  The cheap beer ($5.50 NZ a 6 pack) is only 4% alcohol, so we had to drink fast to feel anything, and it was a small buzz at that.  At 11 we took the rest of our beer down to the beach to finish it. 

The next day I felt so lazy, even though the sun was out.  I went to the beach around 10, hell bent on working on my tan since it was my last day in Paihia and I’m heading south after that (I’m guessing no more sunbathing).  I left the beach at 130 when Camilo and Chris came by with their lunches.  I went back with them to the hostel to have a lunch of avocadoes on toast.  Anna and Alyson were up so I went with them back to the beach where we all slept.  I got a nice burn, glad to have it, but sad it will be my last for a while.  I know I’ll loose my tan as quickly as I got it!  =(  We went back to the hostel, watched Kiss the Girls, Aladdin, and The Last Emperor.  I started dozing off during The Last Emperor, so I went to bed. 

Wednesday I checked out but hung out for a while since my bus back to Auckland wasn’t until 130.  The girls were taking the same bus back and Chris was looking to head north so we all went to the bus station together.  There were lots of hugs all around before we left the hostel.  I’ve never felt like part of a family at a hostel until here.  I may catch up with some of the people I met here later on in New Zealand or other  travels, and I know that I will remain in contact with them for years to come.  It’s tiny hostels or YHA for me from now on.  I slept most of the bus ride back and arrived in Auckland ready to leave, but my train ride to Wellington isn’t until 730 tomorrow.  Early night for me tonight!