well i’m on my way…

I arrived in Auckland with two main things to do:  pick up some last minute souvenirs and meet up with my friend Simon, whom Naomi and I met in Invercargill.  He was on a whirlwind tour of the south island and had to go back to work in Auckland.  We had a blast together when we met, so I was determined to hang out with him one last time before I left New Zealand.  After two days of comparing prices and haggling shop owners, I completed my souvenir shopping.  My last day in Auckland I met Simon for coffee before I had to pack my bag.

I was so sad to leave New Zealand, but glad to leave Auckland.  I landed in Melbourne not too thrilled, as I spent almost two weeks there a few months ago, but I was staying with a friend I had met in Sydney when I first started traveling.  Tyler met me at the bus stop, which was only half a block away from his building.  After we went through the security doors and said hello to the concierge, I was impressed.  The marble floors and a promise of tennis courts and a swimming pool were way above my hostel standards.

The flat was on the 27 floor and had quite a view.  We got ready to go out and had a dinner of pizza that made me glad I was going home to Chicago soon to eat REAL pizza.  We met up with more friends on the infamous Brunswick Street at the even more infamous Little Creatures, originally from West Australia.  We ran into some people I knew from Sydney and even more people I didn’t know.  We did a bit of bar hopping and stayed out until the bars closed.  I hadn’t stayed out that late in a long time; in fact, I hadn’t drank since St Patrick’s Day!

The next day I wandered around Melbourne, or more truthfully, got lost.  I found the library and sat down to read my book.  Instead, I fell asleep!  I made it back to the flat as it was getting dark out and had an early dinner of noodles and went to bed early.  We were all hurting a bit, I think.

Monday I went to the Melbourne Museum while Tyler and his flatmates had to work.   I got really engrossed in the exhibits and ended up getting kicked out when the museum closed!

All day I kept on having contradictory emotions.  I’d feel like a kid on Christmas Eve, just wanting to go to bed so Christmas moring would come sooner; or in my case, the day to go home.  But once that word “home” ran through my head, a wave of panic would overcome me.  I don’t want to go home!  I don’t want to leave Australia!  The only thing that made it OK, I think, is the fact that I’m home for four days, then off to Greece and a two month Euro-trip.

When I arrived at the flat, Tyler gave me two options:  go to an AFL (Australian Football League) game or go out for a friend’s birthday.  I asked “Why can’t we do both?”  The footy game was crazy, with unprotected men running around after a rugby-shaped ball, kicking it, hitting it like a volleyball, and underhand throwing it.  Any kind of defense seemed to be allowed-shoving, kicking, tackling…everthing but face-punching.  After the third quarter, the team we were rooting for was losing by 4 times their score, we left.  Tyler and I collected some of his roommates and headed for the city center to meet up with the birthday girl and have some drinks.  We only stayed out for one and ended up having a semi early night.

I woke up the next morning and looked out the window, sad that I was leaving.  I said goodbye to my new friends and headed for the bus stop.  I don’t think I’ve ever walked so slow in my life.  As I stared out the window on the way to the airport, I vowed myself I’d be back to Australia and New Zealand, very very soon.

It’s pronounced “fa-ka-ta-knee”.  The “Wh” in Maori is prounounced “F”.  It took a bit getting used to when I first got here, but now I wonder how I will say some words when I get home…  The town got its name from a Maori legend.  The Maori came up on the land on their waka (war canoe) and the men got out and went to shore.  They left the women in the wakas to wait, as women weren’t allowed to touch the oars.  The sea acted up and started taking the wakas out to sea.  One of the women stood up, yelled to the gods some words, including the word”whakatane”, which meant “Let me act as a man!”  So that’s where the name comes from.  There’s even a statue at the Whakatane river mouth of this woman, looking all defiant and heroic. 

The town today is basically the jumping off point for White Island, New Zealand’s most active volcano, and the East Cape, which is “Maori Country”.  The White Island tour, which I was there for, is very dependant on the weather, for reasons I didn’t understand until I finally made it out there.  I waited three days before I could actually go, but the three days were definately worth it.  For the few days I was waiting, I did some of the day walks around town and hung out by the shore, watching the locals fish.

White Island loomed up out of the sea as we boated towards it and just looked like another island until we got near enough to anchor.  The ocean water all around the island for a couple meters out was a milky colour, from mixing with the sulfur that natually comes out of the volcano.  Since they’re trying really hard to maintain the naturalness of the island, we had to board a little inflatable motorized raft to get onto the island.  We filled up the raft eight at a time, floated a bit at the mercy of the waves, then just at the right time the driver would slam the raft into the “dock” and we had to scramble up one of five ladders coming out of the sea onto somewhat dry land.  The land wasn’t entirely dry because were were on a natural jetty made of rocks which was still vulnerable to the massive waves.  We got on higher, drier land and waited for the next few raftloads to being our tour of the island.

The part of the volcano that we get to tour is only the tip of it, actually it’s the crater.  The rest of it is under the ocean, who knows how many kilometers (and/or miles) deep.  I always thought that the crater of a volcano is a hole reaching to the center of the earth (well not that far), but actually it’s solid ground that’s a bit porous.  It can crumble at any time if there’s enough weight on top of it, or it’s hot enough below it.  Kind of scary, eh?    

There used to be a mining company on White Island, but once the company went backrupt, they stopped.  But they left the buildings and holding tanks still there, to weather the wind and water and whatever else might come from the volcano.  We walked around what’s left of the main building and then headed toward the center of the island.  The rock surrounding us like a protective shield from the wind was multicoloured-a tannish brown colour, a reddish hue, and bright yellow.  The yellow is obviously from the sulfur, but I’m not sure what the red is from. 

The center of the island is scattered with holes of various sizes, most of them emitting a smokey steam that was very warm when you walked into it.  It also had that wonderful sulfuric smell that resembles the scent of rotten eggs.  Some of the holes were no bigger than golf balls, but the largest was a lake that actually had sulfuric water in it!  The lake’s temperature gets up to hundreds of degrees Celcius, but was only in the fifities the day I was there.  It was bubbling at some parts and the entire thing was letting off quite a steam.  The more we stood and looked at it, we realized that something was falling into the lake!  The wall around it was collapsing!  Our guides told us that the landscape changes all the time, as we had just witnessed.  When they have a week or so off and they come back, things could drastically change in that short amount of time.  Crazy!

Getting back onto the boat was just as hairy getting off it, if not more.  The waves were acting up stronger than before, and people were getting soaked en route to the raft.  I somehow managed to stay mostly dry, but I got soaked once the big boat started moving, as I was sitting outside and the waves and the wake were not working together in my favour!

We made it back to Whakatane shortly before the sun was about to set, and I headed back to the hostel to get ready for my next destination:  Auckland, which I wasn’t excited about, at it signifies that my New Zealand trip is about to end…

I left rainy Turangi and instantly fell asleep on the bus.  When I awoke, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and I had a few Beatles’ lines in my head: “Tomorrow’ll be rain, so I’ll follow the sun.”  When I got off the bus the sun and warm air felt so good on my skin, which is something I haven’t felt in a few months. 

Napier suffered a massive earthquake in 1931 and when they rebuilt it, they decided to follow the look of that time: Art Deco.  Most of the buildings in the town center have been created with this theme, which made the town super cute.  

I arrived at the hostel, which was a stone’s throw away from the sea, which made me even happier.  I checked out the rocky beach en route to the supermarket and when I came back, there were two Canadian girls in my room getting ready for yoga, and did I want to come with?  Of course I did!  I was ecstatic-every town I’ve been in I’ve been looking for a casual yoga course to loosen all my tight muscles.  I did a little dance as I got ready and almost cried when the class started.  My body was so greatful that I was doing it a favor after all these months of not stretching it and honouring it.  I didn’t realize how much I missed it until the hour and a half was over.  I felt so limber afterwards!

I woke up the next day to another cloudless sky.  Still high from yoga the night before, I extended my stay from two nights to four.  The weather forecast predicted rain everywhere in the North Island except Napier.  I figured as long as the weather was holding out, I would too.  I walked around town, checking out the Art Deco-ness of it with my new yogi Canadian friends.  The hostel owner told us about a beach nearby, so we suited up and picked up a Dutch guy from the hostel and actually laid out on the sand!  I’m sure the locals though we were nuts, as it wasn’t that warm, but in the sun it was just warm enough.  Some clouds rolled in and we covered ourselves with our towels until one of us got enough sense to get up and leave.  I was so happy to be lying on a beach I really didn’t care how cold it was, so I didn’t want to leave with my new friends, but I did.

The next day I spent the entire day by the sea, taking in the smell, the sounds of the waves crashing, and the warm sun on my face.   

I woke up my last day in Napier in a great mood.  The clouds were still nowhere to be found, and I actually had a plan for the day: take photos.  So I walked around the town center again, actually documenting the fact I was there, walked up to a lookout and looked at the sea (what is it about the ocean that people can stare at it for so long?), found the Botanical Gardens with the Napier Cemetary attached, and went to the Napier Museum.  The museum was mostly about the earthquake.  I watched a film of earthquake survivors recounting their stories from that day and days after.  It was amazing what these people, children at the time, went through-watching neighbors lose family memebers and everything they owned only to build the town and their lives back up again. 

After the six day walk, and before I arrived in Wellington, I drove.  I drove all the way from just outside of Queenstown to Chirstchurch.  I’m not sure how far that distance is, but it took somewhere between five and six hours.  We rented a relocation car-which means ‘free rental’.  Since it was automatic, and Naomi had done all the driving for the last month, I decided to finally get behind the wheel and brave the left side of the road.  It wasn’t as hard as I’d expected!  Although I haven’t been driving, I would like to think I’m pretty acclimated to the left side of the road.  When I cross the stree, I look ‘right-left-right’ like my English friends were taught growing up.  (Can’t wait to see how that affects me once I’m back home in the States!)  The hardest part for me was staying in the center of the lane.  Since I’m used to the wheel on the left side of the road at home, I’m used to aligning the wheel up with the side of the road…which doesn’t work well when you’re driving on the left side of the road and the steering wheel needs to be aligned with the center lane.  Most of our conversation went like this:  Naomi-“Sholder!”  Me-“Sorry, but there was a truck/car/semi/sheep!” or Me-“How am I over there?”  Naomi-“On the line.”  But we made it to Christchurch, safe and sound, without any damage to the vehicle.

So I hung out in Wellinton for a day and a half, wandering around town, and pretty much doing nothing.  I did see Slumdog Millionaire, after months of hearing about it and wanting to see it.  Yes, it is still in theatres in New Zealand.  I believe In Bruges was being shown in a cinema in Christchurch the first time I was there, around St Patrick’s Day. 

I got out of Wellington headed for Turangi, the closest town with a supermarket to the Tongariro Crossing, or the Tongariro Northern Circuit, the day track, or the 3 to 4 night tramp.  This place is where Lord of the Rings Mordor was filmed.  If the weather was good, I would have been able to walk though Mordor, without any fear of orcs or the ring weighing me down.  But the weather was foggy, with ten meters visibility and winds up to 50 km an hour.  The DOC pretty much was advising everyone against it. 

I stayed one night in Turangi at A Plus Lodge (I think?) where the owner was super excited to have all five (?!) continents represented in the hostel that night.  There were only four of us staying there, including him, so Ian, the owner, represented Oceania, I represented the Americas, a Japanese guy living there for the last few months represented Asia, Roxy from Germany represented Europe, and the guy who called himself “Prince” was from Zimbabwe, obviously representing Africa.  So we all prepared a sit down meal together: roast lamb, roast potatoes, pees, salad, and pavlova for dessert.  Pavlova is pretty much merengue, but lighter.  For most of us, it was our first time trying Pavlova.  I was the only one who didn’t think it was ‘too sweet’. 

When I got up the next morning I turned on the TV, looking for the weather.  The entire forecast for New Zealand was rain, except for Napier, on the east coast of the North Island.  I went to the DOC office just to verify that there was no way I could do the tramp, either of them, for the next few days.  Once the woman told me that no, there would be no point going up/out there, since I wouldn’t see anything, I promptly went and booked myself on the next bus out of there, headed for Napier.

I have successfully completed the Routeburn and Greenstone tracks.  I’ve been in civilization one night since then, and boy am I not liking it.  I cannot see any stars, let alone the Milky Way, both of which I was able to for the last 5 nights.  The smell of cigarette smoke is more disgusting to me than ever, and I feel a little claustrophobic with all these people, buildings, and cars.  It’s scary.  I’m beginning to wonder how much of a city girl I still am?  I know I’m not cured completely, but…  Eh, let me start at the beginning:

Day 1, Routeburn:  We started by crossing over a bridge that spanned a rapidly running river.  I hoped this wasn’t foreshadowing of the fact that we’d have to cross many rivers on this walk.  It turned out to be OK.  We walked through more moss-carpeted areas before we started climbing.  The roar of waterfalls-near and far-were present the entire day.  Once we got near the tree line we had a great view of valleys with rivers running through them.  We were definately in mountain country.  Some of the mountains were just jagged masses of rock and groud, others were snow-capped, and some even had blue glaciers sitting on top of them.  The lodge was beautiful, well kept, and had a majestic view of the mountains and valley.  Looking out at all of this, it occured to me that I would like to see mountains being made.  We had a dinner of Uncle Ben’s rice, Mexican flavoured, mixed with El Paso refried beans.  God I miss Mexican.  And everyone wearing their Crocs in the hut made me miss my Crocs too.  (Please keep your anti-Croc comments to yourself!)

Day 2: Routeburn:  We had to scramble up some rocks to get to the actual path that skirts along the edge of a valley.  I’m surprised that this is a Great Walk, as most of the terrain isn’t boardwalked or stairs.  It’s cool though, more of what I thought a NZ tramp would be.  At the saddle we could climb some rocks to the top of Conical Hill, where there’s usually a view of mountains, glaciers, and even out to Tasman Sea.  We didnt’ really see all that, but the clouds certainly put on a show for us, one minute giving us a glimpse of the mountains, valley, and snow, the next, completely whitewashing everything out.  It was spectacular and we sat up there for a good hour, watching the scenery change so dramatically.  We climbed down in the middle of a cloud-visibility was only a few meters in front of us and we were feeling pretty damp, but it was cool.  We were in a cloud!  We walked some more and learned we were officially back in Fiordland, so I was even more happy.  The clouds started flowing therough the valley again, being really cool and dramatic, so Naomi and I sat on a massive rock, watching the clouds go by.  Amazing.  I walked some more, with an American doctor named Katie.  Naomi stayed back to write.  The track started descending, but we had no idea what we were descending into!  The clouds whitewashed everything next to us, so we could see in front of us, no problem, but we knew there was a valley, that’s it.  We had no idea what was on the other side of it.  Every once in a while, we’d stop and become mesmerized by the clouds.  It was disorienting to look at them.  We caught a glimpse of mountain through a hole in the cloud/fog and got excited.  We kept on walking, constantly looking to our right to see what the clouds would unveil for us.  The fog finally dissipated and what we saw was breathtaking:  mountains, of course, and in a valley a green lake surrounded by even more green trees and moss.  And the hut on the edge of this lake.  How spectacular!  We walked through the trees for about 45 minutes before we arrived at the hut.  It’s always an early night at huts, as we only have candles and our headlamps to see with once the sun goes down.  As a side note, not really about the tramp, but about my memory-it’s going.  Katie is from Ohio, lives in Oregon, has a sister who lived in Chicago.  When she asked “What part of Chicago”, and I told her “The south suburbs”, she replied with “The only suburb I’m familiar with is Naperville”.  I thought to myself: Naperville, Naperville, where is Naperville?  I know I should know this…  It took me a good few minutes to recall where and what Naperville is.  Naperville is a western suburb of Chicago.  I have a friend who lived out there, I wrecked my first car in Naperville, I’ve partied in Naperville.  Only time and distance would erase this place from my memory.  I wondered what other things I have almost forgotten since I’ve left home in December.  Crazy.

Routeburn, Day 3: The stars and the Milky Way were great last night.  Nothing like the Australian Outback, but definately a close second.  The walk today was half under, half above the  tree line, weaving in and out of it.  We sat by a waterfall and watched it-it created a permanent rainbow on the rock behind it.  There wasn’t a cloud in the sky today, but it was chilly.  Winter’s coming!

Greenstone, Day 1, Day 4 of Walk:  We walked up to Key Summit before actually heading for the Greenstone, since the hut is only 2 hours away.  You could see a bunch of different mountain ranges from there, and the natural fauna…although I’m sure it would be better if we arrived in Spring or Summer to see all the flowers in bloom.  Oh well, next time.  The walk to the hut was different than what we’re used to.  The Greenstone isn’t a Great Walk, so it isn’t as well marked as the past walks we’ve done.  We followed the orange arrows on trees or orange metal poles stuck in the ground to tell us the way.  We also walked through a very wet field, a place I’m sure is underwater when it’s rained a lot.  The hut was overcrowded that night, and we slept 5 to a row, instead of the 4 the mattresses suggest for us. 

Greenstone, Day 2, Day 5 of Walk:  Today’s walk was very different from any other day we walked; we were in a valley the entire day.  We saw lots of sheep and “baa”-ed at them, much to our own entertainment.  We also walked over fallen rockslides which made my feet hurt, and made me think about my Crocs again.  Like most people, Naomi does nothing but rip on them, so she was doubly entertained when I’d try to “sell her” Crocs.  Crocs Rock!  When we got to the hut I opened up the Visitor Book like I usually do, to enter our names and smart-ass comments.  I busted up laughing when I got to the inside flap, laughed really hard back to the bunkroom to get my camera and started laughing even harder when I read what was there:  “Hi my name is Joe.  I work in a  button factory.  One day my boss came to me and said ‘Joe are you busy?’ I said ‘No’.  He said ‘Push this button with your left hand’.  I had disrupted everyone in the hut, so I had to explain why I was laughing, and even did the little skit that goes with it, pushing buttons with both my hands, then I sat down on the floor and used my feet.  I felt like an ass, but I was laughing the entire time.  I could also hear my sister using her old man voice saying it with me. 

Greenstone, Day 3, Last Day of Walk:  This track isnt’ only a tramper’s track, it’s a hunting track, as well as a hearding track.  It’s pretty cool.  Multi-functional.  We walked mostly up today, over more rock slips and over a river.  We finished the walk at 1130, but our ride back to Kinloch wasn’t until 2.  So we sat in the sun, both excited for our own things: Naomi-coffee, and me-a shower.

Naomi and I left Christchurch and headed for Mt Cook.  The rolling hills soon turned into snow covered mountains as we continued driving westward.  I kept on exclaiming about the scenery so we had to pull over a few times so Naomi could see the beauty of the countryside I was.  We sat on the top of the car and shivered while we watched the sun go down over the mountains.

We arrived in Mt Cook, located the YHA, and learned it was booked.  The girl at reception directed us to the Unwin Lodge, which was basically a hut.  If this was a hut, it sure was luxurious by hut standards with hot showers, electricity, and a fully equipped kitchen (expect for a busted can opener that we got to fight with in the morning).  We met some hardcore Kiwi rock climbers and went to bed a bit early in hopes of climbing part of Mt Cook the next morning.  Before we went to bed though, we marvelled at the stars and wondered what magnificence the outlines of the moutains would show for us in the daylight.

We woke up to beautiful scenery as we were in a valley of the snow-capped mountains we were admiring on the way in and to overcast skies.  We headed to the DOC and were told that if we did climb up, we’d have no view, which meant there was no point in doing so.  We decided to leave for Lake Wanaka, the un-over-touristy version of Queenstown.  Although we were sad about missing Mt Cook, I figured it was better to have gone there and known we tried than to miss it entirely and wonder what we missed.

Lake Wanaka is a glacial lake-which means it’s an amazing shade of blue.  The town of Wanaka is a cute lakeside town that really wakes up in ski season, which is coming swiftly.  We ran around town making plans for the next week-our last week together.  Naomi is going WWOOFing, something I won’t have enough time for, so I’m checking out the north island instead.

So far, going along with the Passover rules have been tough, but we’d been doing it.  We made it five days before I became really tired and a bit unresponsive.  Naomi thought I was getting bitchy, but I explained to her that a quiet uninterested Laura is not a bitchy one.  My body was craving carbs.  Naomi decided that it was impossible to continue traveling like this; in Toronto her suburb became a kosher one and all the food is made ‘Kosher for Passover”.  Nothing in New Zealand is “Kosher for Passover”, so we quit.  I told her that my five days can count for the five days she didn’t make it, so technically, she compeleted Passover.  I literally jumped with my arms in the air when I realized that I could now eat Tim Tams!  We hurried to the supermarket and drooled over bread and muesli before we bought it.

We stayed in Wanaka two nights and just hung out enjoying the scenery.  We met an American, Anna, and she and I went to Puzzling World to look at the world’s largest hologram collection, a room of heads that follow you as you walk by, a room that is really big in one corner and tiny in another, and got lost in a maze for almost two hours.

Naomi and I took an overnight Milford Sound cruise.  The scenery, boat, food, and staff were nothing compared to the Doubtful Sound cruise we took.  We tried not to be disappointed and make the best of it.  At night we could go outside and stand in the pitch blackness of Milfor Sound.  It was a bit creepy…until we noticed fish jumping and a large blackish mass making splashes as it jumped after the fish.  It was a seal going after a midnight snack!  Most of the people still up came out on deck to watch the fish and the seals go after them and play with eachother.  In the morning we headed out towards the Tasman Sea.  I stood outside in the crazy wind to watch it pick up mist and create semi-tornadoes over the water as it flew past us.

After the cruise we headed to Arrowtown (a little gold mining settlement) for the night since I’m trying to avoid Queenstown at all costs.  I want to be able to say “I went to New Zealand but I didn’t go to Queenstown”.  We’re resting up for the walk ahead of us: the Routeburn and the Greenstone-five nights of tramping in the mountains, here we come!

It’s an English term and I love it.  I’ve been waiting for an opportune time to use that phrase and here you have it.

I keep on forgetting to write about the venison farms.  All over the south island I’ve been noticing deer in paddocks.  These deer are very similar to the deer I see back home, so at first I just found it wierd that these deer (which are mostly a nuisance due to overpopulation at home) are in fenced-in fields.  Then I realized that these guys were fenced up for a reason-venison!

Another thing I’ve been meaning to tell you about is where people board their animals.  Dogs, like in the States, go to kennels.  Cats, on the other hand, go to catteries!  It’s the simple things that make me wonder, and of course, giggle.

As I’m writing this, I’m hungry.  Part of Passover is the semi-fasting.  We’re not allowed to eat wheat, or anything that might have been near the wheat in the markets back in the day.  Naomi follows all the rules of what she calls the most strict form of Judiasm, so I am too.  So our diet for the next ten days consists of fruit, veg, and potatoes.  It doesn’t sound that bad, but when you’re used to eating bread at most meals, and muesli (granola-y cereal) for breakfast every day, it sucks.  It’s like the first two weeks of the South Beach diet, plus potatoes, minus nuts.  Does it make it worse we’re both vegetarians?

I need to put a disclaimer here, as people other than my family (I’m guessing the fam doesn’t know much about Passover and what a seder is) are reading this.  As I’m trying to describe what I observed, witnessed, and blindly took part in, I may misrepresent something of the culture.  I apologize in advance if I do. 

Seder is the meal that kicks off Passover.  It’s a ceremony of readings, singing, and of course eating.  The idea of the international Seder was started seven generations ago (why I know this is because the 7th generation descendant of the man who started Seder was sitting next to me) for people who don’t have family to celebrate with, or people traveling.  Most of the people at this Seder were young Isreali travelers that just finished their stint in the army.

The building the Seder was held in was on the top floor of a four story building on one of the main streets of Christchurch.  When we arrived around 430 pm, there were only about 20 people in the main room, mostly speaking Hebrew.  Since Naomi looks Isreali, she was addressed to in Hebrew, but answered in English for my sake.  We were asked instantly if we had a car to pick up some chairs.  We left with Leo (Leon?) to find a friendly bakery that would lend us their chairs.  We took four trips back and fourth loading and unloading chairs.  Thankfully, people came downstairs to carry them up.

When we got back to the top floor, it was packed.  Nobody was speaking English, so it was easier for me to stand back and observe, without picking up parts of everybody’s conversations.  We recognized a few people from the Kepler Track, said hello, and went in the kitchen to see if we could help.  One of the organizers of the event pointed to buckets filled with lettuce heads and told us to seperate and wash them.  While we did that, Naomi gave me a running commentary of what was going on around us, since everyone was speaking Hebrew.  It was like having my own personal subtitles!

After watching the male-only prayer that consisted of sing-song prayer from the doorway, we were allowed to sit down for the co-ed part of the ceremony.  This room had dimensions of about 30 feet by 40 feet.  My estimation after doing a rough count of the table I was sitting at (one of five) that there were about 150-175 people in the room, sitting at long tables.  On the table in front of me was a place setting: a fork, knife, cup for water, cup for wine, and a plate with a napkin in the center of it with a leaf of lettuce on top of that.  Spread out all over the table were two salads: one made of cut up lettuce and some kind of dressing and the other made of lettuce and onions in another dressing,  a bowl with mashed hard-boiled egg, a beet and garlic mixture (the only thing I didn’t try), a cup filled with horseradish and lemon, and a cup of salt water.

At the very beginning of the dinner (ceremony?  I’m not sure what to call it), one of the orgainzers asked in English if ther was anyone who didn’t understand English.  He then asked in Hebrew.  Since no one answered, I assumed the night would be spoken in English.  Boy was I wrong.  They passed out books for people to read from:  not only was it all in Hebrew, but to me, an English-reading Westerner, the book was read backwards!

They started by saying welcome, thank you, and all those formalities both in Hebrew and English.  They read a bit from the book and asked people to read paragraphs (this would work much better with a family of less than 20 or 30).  It was a bit confusing as they wanted us to go down the table, reading one by one, but myself and the man next to me could not read Hebrew, so people started picking up where others left off from all over the room.  A few people would read at the same time, some louder than others, and some faster than others.  There were a lot of interruptions and confusion, but the Rabbi kept them on track.

After a while, we got to eat our lettuce.  We put some of the horseradish mixture in the lettuce and ate.  It was bitter, as is most of the food, to represent the bitterness of slavery the Jews went through in Egypt.  There was more reading and singing.  We all put our arms around eachother and rocked back and fourth while everyone sang.  It was nice to be a part of something so interactive.

Naomi told me we were halfway done when the food came out, which meant the reading and talking was over.  There was a potato and onion dish  with lots of spices that turned my fingers yellow (I feel like I should know what spice that is) and matza bread.  The bread wasn’t as bad as Naomi made it out to be.  They kept on bringing out more and more potatoes until we couldn’t eat any more.  Then they brought out what they called chicken soup-I would have called it chicken and water. 

When everyone was done eating, the rabbis and whoever had organized the seder thanked everyone for coming, reminded us that this was the first seder of the year, being New Zealand is right after the international date line…

I had realized sometime during the meal that since I could celebrate the beginning of passover and follow the ten days of it, the least I could do is go to Easter mass, and that Naomi was coming with me.  I experienced her religion, now she can experience mine!

Good Friday night the church in the middle of Chirstchurch was having a chior service.  It wasn’t a Catholic Church, but it was something to do, since we can’t drink on Passover.  (I should also add that because of Passover, my Lent is extended =(  No Tim Tams until April 18 after sundown!  It wasn’t a mass, just about 45 minutes of the choir singing in English and Latin and a few readings from the Bible, about Jesus dying on the cross. 

Sunday morning we went to the Catholic Church for the hour and a half service.  For some reason, I thought it was a four hour service, so I was delightfully surprised that it was so short.  The priest and the other people (wow I just realized that I hardly know anything about the Catholic religion) did their little parade around the church before they sat down.  There was the typical stand up-sit down, read this and that, sprinkle water on the people, replying “And also with you…, Amen, and all the other things I’ve never learned to reply in my many years of avoiding church.  I still remembered the “Our Father” prayer and surprised myself and Naomi, since she’s been asking me so many questions that I cannot answer.

Communion, or Jesus biscuits, as Naomi calls them, are based off the Jewish matza, so we could recieve Communion.  I did, and surprised myself again that I knew what to do, since I haven’t recieved Communion since I don’t know when.  Maybe I was seven?  Naomi didn’t; I think she didn’t want to participate in it for her own religious reasons, which was fine.  Her religion also says that she cannot worship a false God, and for her, Jesus on the cross would be just that.  But she was thoroughly interested which I was surprised at.  I thought she would be bored.  There was also a choir at this sevice, which was an added bonus for the both of us.

This was my first Easter Mass in my entire life, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I’m leaving Christchurch for the second time today, and I may be back.  I’m not sure how I feel about that either.  All I’ve done in Christchurch worth mentioning in the 10 nights I’ve been here is celebrated St. Patrick’s Day, jumped out of an airplane, went to Passover Seder, read in the Botanic Gardens, and attended Easter Mass.   

The day after the Kepler Track we got ready to go on a cruise of Doubtful Sound.  We joked about how one day we were roughing it, walking outside for eight hours and the next floating on luxury, having people cook for us.  Ah, the wonders of travel.

We boarded a catamaran on Lake Manapouri and boated to the other side where the hydroelectric power plant is located.  I was enjoying the scenery until the electrical towers started blemishing the landscape.  I was really turned off by the ugliness of technology in what I consider now to be the most beautiful place in the world (so far).

After we got off the catamaran we boarded a bus to take us over to Doubtful Sound.  The bus was an official tour bus that stopped so the passengers could take photos of waterfalls and kias (beautiful birds that will eat your cameras).  Naomi and I stayed on the bus when we realized that we had seen all of this alreay on our tramps, and realized that most of the people on the bus who were taking photos of the moss on the trees had never tramped.  We were oficially in Tourist Country, a place we aren’t really fond of.

We finally got to the wharf and boarded The Navigator.  We were thrilled to finally be on Doubtful Sound!  The vessel was beautiful, with oak trim and fancy lanterns on the walls and tables.  We enjoyed delicious blueberry muffins as we sat back, relaxed, and enjoyed the view.

After cruising for about an hour, we stopped and dropped anchor to do some water activities.  Our options were either to kayak or take a speedboat along the coast with the possiblity to swim when everyone was back on board.  Naomi and I both chose to kayak and got very close to a waka, a brown bird that was hanging out on the coast.  It was pouring down rain before we dropped anchor but the rain had dissipated to a light drizzle as we began kayaking.  I would paddle a bit, turn myself in a full circle, and enjoy the lush green mountains and the dark water.  I was in heaven.  As I looked back at the boat, I noticed there was a rainbow-the absolute clearest rainbow I have seen in my life, and its end was right in the water.  Naomi and I joked about where exactly that pot o’ gold might be, and decided it was at the bottom of the fiord, and that we didn’t want to dive down to get it.  We paddled a bit and then another rainbow appeared above the first one for a beautiful view of a double rainbow with both ends vanishing into the dark depths of the water.  Perfection!

After we were back on board, the crew told us that the water was 16 degrees, and that if we were brave enough to swim, we should do it now.  Myself and a few other brave (or crazy) people jumped in and we all were shocked at how cold the water actually was!  I’m pretty sure that yes, the water was 16 degrees, but 16 degrees Farenheit!  It literally took my breath away and I didn’t get a real breath of air until after I exited the water.   The air was chilly, but I felt instantly warm the second I was back on board drying off.

We rode out to the Tasman sea, where we could feel the effects of the waves of the sea and to check out some beached seals on a rock.  They were cute, but I’m beginning to get sealed out.  I’ve seen so many since I’ve been in New Zealand.

Dinner was fabulous–or maybe it was so good because it was cooked for us.  I had greek salad, coleslaw, roast potatoes, steamed vegetables, and a mini quiche with kumara (NZ sweet potato), spinach, and maybe pumpkin?  It was delish!  Naomi and I stayed up talking to the other backpackers on the boat, as there weren’t too many of us.  One of the other passengers was a piano teacher, so he played while another woman, who had to be a professional singer, sang along.  Unexpected entertainment is great!

I awoke the next moring to the engines starting and heard rain.  I got up and had breakfast of scrambled eggs, hash browns, and fried tomatoes-yum!  I went outside and just watched the beautifulness of the mountains in the fog behind curtains of rain pouring down.  Waterfalls trickling down the mountainside into the fiord were everywhere.

Near the end of the cruise the captain stopped the boat all the engines and ushered everyone outside so we could marvel at the beauty of the Sound as it was seen over 200 years ago when it was first “discovered”.  He told us to put our cameras away and to just look.  We all stood in the rain and stared at the magnificence of it all.  I counted over 30 waterfalls, some gushing down the mountain, and others just little trickles.  We were still quite far away from shore, but the sounds of the waterfalls were deafening.  I started to get a bit emotional, but then one of the passengers on the boat decided to walk down the stairs, creating a lot of noise and started snapping away on his camera.  Everyone turned and stared at the rudeness of this man.  Although he interrupted my train of thought, or lack thereof, I was secretly a bit glad that he prevented me from openly crying in public.

On the catamaran ride back to civilization, I decide that Fiordland (the southwest corner of the South Island, where I’ve been floating on and tramping through) is my favorite place in the world.

The clouds were present but not overbearing when we left to begin the Kepler Track.  The four and a half hour walk was entirely uphill through trees in a zig-zag fashion.  We walked all the way up through the forest past the tree line from where we could see the tops of mountains, valleys, and the tiny speck of Te Anau.  We encountered more creaky trees and fantails in the forest.  I was particularly amazed by the native pigeons-they look just like regular pigeons I’m used to from Chicago but these ones were the size of chickens!  They somehow balanced themselves on the twiggy branches in the tops of trees and when they flew, I could hear the flapping of their wings and it sounded so painful.  These birds seriously looked too heavy to be flying the way they were.  Right before the top of the tree line the trees were covered in something kind of grassy hanging off the tips of the branches.  The best way to describe this stuff was that it looked like the fake snow stores use for their Chistmas displays-or the cobwebby stuff people put on their bushes for Halloween.  Except it was green and felt like dried grass.  Wierd.  We forgot to ask DOC (Department of Conservation) about it.  Next time.

The Luxmore Hut was luxurious compared to the huts we stayed in on the Rakiura Track.  The views of Lake Te Anau and some mountains were spectacular!  This one had running water toilets in the hut, multiple gas burners for our use, and loads of books on the flora and fauna in the area.  Still no heat though, and it was really cold at night.  The wind was howling before we got to the hut, and continued to get even worse as the night wore on.  While trying to fall asleep I listened to the wind whipping around the corner of the hut.  A few times I could even feel the hut shake. 

The wind didn’t die down at all for our walk the next day.  The wind was crazy ridiculous while we were walking along the tops of mountians–I’m not exaggerating!  We made it to the actual peak of Mt Luxmore before the fog started coming in.  The wind was strong-up to 70 kilometers an hour (and I have no idea what that means in miles, but I know it was scary).  I wondered a few times exactly how crazy a person I was for doing this, but I wasn’t afraid.  I knew that out in nature exposed to the elements was not the place for fear.  There was no time for fear; I could only react.  Besides, I knew that if I became afraid I would make a mistake and could fall and break something.  I do think Naomi was a bit nervous after she admitted to me that she “didn’t want to be known as the Canadian that died on the Kepler Track”. 

Reminded by my Aunt Pat quoting my Grandfather “not to take a chance with nature, as nature always wins”, I knew that we had to continue moving and get below the fog before it  reached us and whitewashed us out of moving forward.  We moved as quickly and as carefully along the track that ran along the tops and sides of the mountain range.  The views were spectacular and one mountain that was shrouded in fog just seemed so majestic to me.  As much as I wanted to stop and look in wonder, I knew I had to keep on moving ahead before the weather caught us. 

We met up with Mark, a Dutch guy we hung out with in the hut the night before, who wanted to walk with us as it was safer for him to not walk alone.  At one point the wind was so strong we had to stop and get on all fours.  We heard a rip-like sound and watched as a pack rain cover floated away in the wind.  The wind had ripped his cover right off his pack!  We laughed and watched in amazement as the cover acted like a parachute and floated over the scenery.  After the wind died down a bit we continued walking.  

After an hour or so more of walking, we reached the tree line where we were safe from the wind.  We walked downward in a zig-zag fashion again and I realized then how old my knees were.  I know that a good way to walk downhill is to walk backwards, but I wasn’t about to do that on uneven ground!  We found the hut in a valley and once we defrosted and laughed with the rest of the trampers about the crazy wind, we had dinner and went to bed early, exhausted from fighting the wind all day.

The next day the weather forecast had promised rain, but we were in luck once again.  The rain stopped as we started walking and the skies cleared to blue and it turned into a beautiful day.  After walking through the bush we entered a clearing-another valley surrounded by mountains and waterfalls-waterfalls that we could hear before we could see them.  Since the rain was intermittent, we paused to look as the rainbows that would appear and disappear.  They were probably the most vivid rainbows I’ve seen in my life.  Well, up to that point of my life at least.  

We entered the bush after a while and stayed there for the rest of the day.  Parts of it were carpeted in a moss that covered the entire ground and went all the way up the trees!  Other parts of the bush consisted of tall skinny trees (beech trees?) and ginormous weed looking plants that only went a few feet high.  I felt like I was in a scene from Jurassic Park and that a dinosaur would come stomping though at any moment.  Despite that, it was a peaceful walk.  We crossed lots of rivers and streams, and some parts we walked alongside a bigger watersource that was running pretty rapidly, thanks to the crazy rain the night before.  Through breaks in the bush we could see mountains in the distance and I couldn’t help but wonder if they were the same ones we hardly made it across the day before.

It was becoming late afternoon and we were getting tired.  We came across a sign that told us our car was parked another three hours away!!  Neither one of us wanted to walk in the dark, so we headed to the carpark for the daytrippers and made friends with a local couple who gladly gave us a ride to our car.  Kiwis are so friendly!