Checking In

By now at least a handful of you must be wondering what we’ve been up to over the last few weeks. We apologize for not being able to put up any real updates lately, but fear not, you dedicated few, as we haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. Although it’s felt that way sometimes over the past few weeks since we left Queenstown, traveling through Central Otago.

To be honest, the last couple weeks haven’t been the most thrilling, though there have been some pretty interesting moments. For the past week we’ve been wwoofing for a German couple at their café in Lawrence (more on that in a later post), a rural town in Otago. We escaped ‘to town’, Dunedin, on Tuesday, one of our days off to get back to civilization for a bit, where we tried to update the blog. Unfortunately Blogger wasn’t in the mood to cooperate that day, so we had to punt til today. We’ve just been to a rugby match between Otago’s team, the Highlanders (in a town named Dunedin the Scottish influence is strong), and an Australian side, Brumbies. The Highlanders were unfortunately crushed by a score of 22-10, but we still enjoyed the match.

As far as our trip goes, right now we’re at a bit of an impasse, trying to figure out what to do until the winter season really starts. Becky has an interview for a ticketing position at Treble Cone coming up soon, but bummer for me as I didn’t score even an interview. Hindsight being 20/20 I probably should’ve applied for less sexy positions than lift operator without previous experience, theme park or otherwise, but oh well, perhaps it will work out better somehow?

You can definitely feel that it’s in-between seasons here at the moment, with colder weather gradually making its presence felt, and not much going on of note. (As a side note, you can always tell when the weather is getting cold in NZ: the telltale smell of wood and coal burning in towns. We were somewhat amazed to learn that in Christchurch, a city of 300,000 people, they have a smog problem due in large part to wood fires in people’s homes.) Although our viewpoint may be at least partly influenced by the fact that we’ve been in some pretty sparsely inhabited areas lately.

Hopefully, we’ll be able to grab jobs in Wanaka, but even then that won’t start until mid-to-late June, so we have a bit of time until then. Which leaves us 5-6 weeks without much of a definitive plan. We don’t really feel like doing much more driving through NZ right now, as we’ve driven through most of the areas that are within about 8 hrs from here, and it would feel too much like backtracking to go back up the South Island now. We’d like to save some sights for when Linda visits in a few months, as well. Wwoofing has also been steadily losing much of its appeal, as it has been dawning on us why people generally insist on getting paid for their labor.

So, perhaps we’ll go to Australia for a few weeks now! But more likely we’ll just try to get some temporary work near somewhere like Dunedin. I’m sure we’ll figure out something to do over the next few weeks, and I’m not just comment fishing here, but if anybody has any brilliant ideas, the suggestion box is officially open!

Everybody Must Get De-Stoned (Apr. 16 – 25)

Or if you prefer Jerry Lee to Bob, Great Bulbs of Fire? After the rush of Queenstown, we once again felt ready to do a bit of wwoofing in one place for awhile, and found a farm located in a rural Central Otago valley, outside of Alexandra. Their wwoofing blurb sounded good, describing themselves as an organic garden that sold their produce at farmer’s markets, with ample recreational opportunities in the area. These things were all true, per se, but of course the description is designed to sell you on a place.

The farm is the creation of a Kiwi horticulturist, Lon, and his partner Gilly, a British singer and now erstwhile farmer as well. While in New Zealand for a tour, she fell in love with both Lon and the country, and now resides here. She still tours and records CDs, but also does a bunch of work on the farm. We saw her play a small concert in nearby Alexandra, ‘Alex’ to the locals, and she has a great, expressive voice and a natural entertainer’s flair.

As to what they do at the farm, their main crop, which probably brings in 90% of the revenue, is garlic. In a somewhat amusing turn, this fact is not mentioned at all in their wwoofing description. According to Lon, the dry weather, native soil, and somewhat harsh climate of the Central Otago highlands is well suited for growing garlic, producing particularly strong and fiery bulbs. He sells some other produce like strawberries and potatoes, but mostly sells sundry forms of garlic: regular, smoked, in plaits, and his beloved brainchild and ticket to fortune, garlic walnut pâté. We tried all of his products at one point or another and found his garlic to indeed be tasty and fiery, and the pâté was quite good, going nicely on crackers, sandwiches, and any starch really.

Lon is quite a garlic devotee, which you would have to be to be a garlic farmer, as we learned. A few hours on the farm soon taught us that, and repetition over a week drove the point home convincingly. As we discovered, cultivating garlic consumes untold hours splitting/skinning/planting cloves by hand, maintaining the plot, and our personal favorite, de-stoning the fields by hand. We spent a few days fishing rocks from the fields, and determined over the many hours that no enterprise could feel more futile than that. On this topic we would urge everyone to trust us, as we’ve had plenty of time to think about it. Planting garlic isn’t much more exciting, though it rates far better on the futility factor, so yay for that.

In truth, we’d be hard pressed to really say why we stayed at the farm as long as we did. The work was tedious, unrewarding, not educational (aside from learning that garlic farming involves heaps of thankless work), and at times we didn’t really feel entirely appreciated for our efforts. And it wasn’t as if we were eating terrifically either; meals were generally satisfactory but the highlight may have been omelet night, which I helmed. Last, Lon and Gilly were also quite busy working outside of the farm while we were there, so we were often left unsupervised, which prevented us from developing a strong rapport with our hosts that seems integral to a good wwoofing experience.

For perhaps the first time in our stay in NZ, we felt like we were just killing time until our next gig, wasting time for no good reason. [Note: the following gets a bit philosophical so we understand if you feel the need to skim, but this is our soapbox so we’re leaving it in, thanks!]

On a few days we came close to actually packing it in early and leaving a ‘Dear Lon’ note on the bench, but didn’t. As the haiku below alludes, even on the first day at the farm Becky was almost ready to pack it in:

On a windy plain,
Pulling rocks from dusty fields,
Becky meets her match.

So why did we stay? Besides a probably-misguided sense of honor in not leaving a host before the time we indicated we would, we had a surprisingly difficult time coming up with an alternate plan on the fly. We entertained some thoughts of possibly going to Stewart Island or other backpackers for the next several days, but after splashing out at Queenstown the week prior, we realized we probably wouldn’t enjoy spending money just to entertain ourselves at this point, and so nixed that plan.

We also thought about going somewhere to pick apples, or getting temp jobs in Christchurch or Dunedin. At least if we were doing tedious manual labor, we should be getting paid for it, since by our calculations the intangibles we experienced at the farm weren’t equal to the potential income we’d be getting elsewhere. But to be honest apple-picking hasn’t sounded tempting quite yet, and temping in Chch/Dunedin seems like something we could do at home and be better paid for it.

Probably what sunk our escape most was that it would interfere with the carefully arranged plans that we’d been making over the past month. Well to be honest, it wasn’t much of a plan as it mostly consisted of wwoofing at the farm for a week and a half and then wwoofing at a café in Lawrence, another town in central Otago, for a few weeks. Still, even this rather modest plan required time and effort to make, and so when it came down to it, we determined the work/food/vibe wasn’t so bad that we needed to change course, and thus we were compelled to stay in place.

We’ve learned that when you’re traveling for as long as we are, having a plan is a wonderful security blanket, letting you know what to expect in the next few weeks as opposed to having to figure it all out and decide on the fly every night. Oh, you can travel on the fly for awhile, but after a month or two the lack of an agenda begins to wear on you. Even the most decisive traveler would probably experience the fatigue that comes with trying to spontaneously generate an entertaining plan over an extended period. Abandoning plans that sounded so good before seems as if it should be easy, but in reality becomes oddly mentally exhausting Thus, it makes the devil you do know (planting garlic in a dusty field for an unappreciative Kiwi) much more appealing than the one you don’t (having to make a new plan that promises to be much better than the one you already have).

So we stayed for a week and half at the farm, mostly bent over planting or de-stoning garlic fields, and watching Lord of the Rings in our downtime. In what I reckoned must’ve been an example of Providence at work, one of the handful of non-LOTR movies they owned happened to be our favorite film, The Big Lebowski, so we got to watch that for the first time in what seemed like forever. We like to joke that in 2007 we’re getting our holiday time in for the next 25 years or so, but if that’s really the case I think I’ll be appealing the past week and half, as it hardly felt like vacation. To which I’m sure everyone is thinking: Poor Andrew and Becky… Or perhaps not.

In any event, it would seem that not all wwoofing spots can be winners, but I guess even a less-than-fantastic stay has its lesson, which I’m happy to share with you: If anyone ever asks you for help in planting or de-stoning their garlic field, run, don’t walk, in the opposite direction! Hopefully our next wwoofing experience goes better, else we probably should just get on with it and get paid work like the rest of the backpacking vagabonds. Still, even if you were so inclined, don’t feel badly for us as our adventure continues, get us to Lawrence, Ron!

Alexandra wants to be known for its punctuality?

We know what we think that looks like, and it’s not a backpack

Central Otago is definitely Lord of the Rings Country

Future garlic magnates Gilly and Lon

At the end of this rainbow is probably a pot of garlic

Blue Lake, a Central Otago landmark

Andrew shows you do need a stud to plow a field

Veni, Vedi, Bungy (Apr. 13-15)

Deciding to skip Stewart Island for the time being due to the spell of bad weather, we left Invercargill, and hopefully its rainy and cold southwesterlies, for Queenstown to the north. As we drove up to Queenstown through increasing altitudes, rain turned to snow and sleet, and many of the Otago mountainsides were frosted with a fresh coat. Congrats if you picked April 13^th as the day we’d first see snow here!

If you’re unfamiliar with Queenstown, it’s basically a ski town on steroids, full of nightclubs and seemingly home to every extreme activity you can think of, and some you probably haven’t heard of. Jetboating, skydiving, whitewater rafting, several flavors of bungee jumping, paragliding are all on the menu, not to mention winter sports, in season. If there’s a possible way to deliver an adrenalin rush, an entrepreneur in Queenstown is probably selling it.

We’re not exactly sure how Queenstown became the adrenalin-fueled burg it is, but a bunch of is probably due to its location, perhaps the best in NZ, which is certainly saying something. It’s wedged in a relatively small stretch of land between the picturesque Remarkables mountain range and similarly stunning Lake Wakatipu, providing gorgeous backdrops from most vantages. Part of the town consists of a heavily-developed narrow peninsula that has caused me to decide that God, or whoever designed the topography in the area, is obviously a fan of high-rent real estate. No other explanation makes sense.

Unfortunately for the town, the past decade of growth seems to be both good and bad, as there doesn’t seem like there’s much of a coherent plan for the heaps of developments and apartment buildings shooting up on most of the developable mountainside. Between that and the thrill-seeking/party scene, Queenstown has an odd out-of-control energy for what is essentially a small-to-medium sized ski resort town, especially in NZ. It might just be the country’s most “remarkable” and dynamic town.

Thus, we definitely had to do Queenstown at some point; it’s just a moral imperative. I’d say most of the activities are aimed at the club-hopping, college-age set, but the town does have a bunch to offer to all ages, so long as you bring your credit cards. We’ve remarked before that with its tourism-driven economy, there’s no shortage of things to do in NZ as long as you’ve got a good budget to work with. But I dare say that Queenstown elevates it to a new level, and makes it all look appealing. You almost get to feeling, “Hey I’m in Queenstown, I definitely need to go bungy jumping, skydiving, jetboating, and paragliding this week!” before reason takes hold of you and you calculate that it would blow a jetboat-sized hole in your trip budget.

Still, I figured, when in Queenstown…So I went to do the Nevis bungy jump, one of the highest in the world at 134m. It’s a pretty amazing set-up they have for the jump, with a metal pod hanging from a metal cable strung up above a canyon outside of town. You take a cable car (like the skyline ride at an amusement park) out to the pod, and in a nice touch, the floor in the car is metal grating, so you can see the 500 or so foot drop below you. With the anticipation of the jump and the wind blowing the car around, it definitely gets the heart pumping.

At Nevis, the jumping order is set from heaviest to lowest, and I fell in the middle of the distribution, so I got to watch a number of jumpers go first. After watching a bunch of girls go before me, my main concern was looking cool and confident as possible for my jump DVD. That thought works until they strap you up in the dentist chair next to the platform, at which point even the coolest dudes shuffle over to the edge, trying not to look down.

Was it scary? Heck yeah, but the thing I remember most is a surreal feeling of “It’s weird that I’m about to jump off this ledge,” and then jumping, followed by about 8-9 seconds of free-fall. What a rush! It’s really tough to describe, but it’s quite a cool feeling to fall that far that fast, and not end up smushed on the canyon floor. Even watching the DVD now, I find it strange watching that really good-looking guy jump off the platform, like it’s not quite real. Surreal. Right now I have a few pictures that give an idea of the jump, if I figure out how to rip the DVD and post a video of it, I’ll do that as well.

Besides the bungy we did a nice hike up to a vantage point above Queenstown and rode the gondola down. We also stayed a night in Arrowtown, a nearby much slower-paced town that reminded us of many Vermont towns with its picture-perfect quaintness, but with many more Japanese tourists. From what we could see there’ll be a lot of pictures of the Arrowtown post office going back to the Land of the Rising Sun.

Overall, we enjoyed a few well-deserved days of postcard weather with beautiful foliage in the Otago highlands; this is seriously gorgeous country. Compared to the bungy, hiking might seem a bit anti-climactic, but even though I’ll always remember NZ’s adrenaline-filled pursuits, the pleasures of a nice (and free) hike on a gorgeous day are seriously tough to beat.

The Nevis bungy pod 134m above the gorge floor

Don’t look down: the view from the bungy ledge

Doing my best to look calm because I knew I was being filmed

Goodbye, cruel world!

This is what relief looks like

The view high above Queenstown

Arrowtown couldn’t be any quainter

Becky on the Sawpit Gully trail

Invercargill: Not That Bad! (Apr. 11-12)

As described before, the deterioration of our sleeping conditions necessitated a quick departure from the Dolphin Lodge. Well, that and Becky was looking dangerously close to having an aneurysm over cleaning the hostel. When we wrote that we wouldn’t have minded more work, that was before we simultaneously started having more to do and our sleeping arrangements took a turn for the worse. Combine those factors with the fact that there wasn’t much to do in the area, that Becky had exhausted the supply of celebrity gossip magazines, and that I caught a bad cold, and you had a perfect storm for a wwoofing evacuation. So we up and left for Invercargill.

When we drove to Invercargill, we found out we were mistaken as to how out in the sticks we were at Porpoise Bay. Apparently it’s not nearly as remote when you approach it from Invercargill, less than an hour in fact. Just trying to do my best to keep the blog as accurate as possible these days… Oh well, it’s not like finding that out meant there was retroactively more to do in the area.

Depending on the literature you may read, Invercargill gets somewhat of a bad rap. Maybe it’s just that we were so glad to stores and other signs of civilization when we rolled into town, but we found Invercargill to be just fine. Perhaps trying a bit too hard to be regarded as a greater city than it is, but just fine all the same.

We were hoping to use Invercargill as a base to visit Stewart Island, the largely unpopulated and unspoiled island an hour south by ferry, but the weather wasn’t cooperating with our plans. The last few days have featured heaps of wind, grey skies, and intermittent rain, conditions which would be even more unpleasant on Stewart Island, especially when you consider the choppy hour-long ferry ride both ways. So it was an easy decision: spend upwards of NZ$350 to go to Stewart Island for the weekend in cold and crappy weather, or punt and drive north to Queenstown, closer to our next wwoofing spot?

The World's Fastest Indian museum exhibit. This is one of our contraband photos.

With a day or two to spend in Invercargill, we drove around and saw the sights. I’m not sure what it is about Invercargill, but the city sure seems keen on large structures: a war obelisk, a big water tower, a modern-art looking wall sculpture, a pyramid-shaped museum, and prominent churches are all found in this medium-sized town of about 50,000. It’s almost like they’re trying to provide photo opportunities and reasons for people to come visit, which is what seemed a bit forced about the town.

The fabulous Invercargill water tower

The museum in particular was funny. Why was it a pyramid constructed out of unattractive plastic-looking material? Who knows, there were no related exhibits or references inside. When the Louvre put in a pyramid, that was an interesting juxtaposition at least, but this just seemed like a misguided attempt to create a tourist-worthy destination.

The fabulously pyramidal shaped Invercargill Museum

Two of its more memorable exhibits, to us at least, were a room featuring a variety of bird eggs, and a collection of skeleton keys. We were a bit peeved to have to pay NZ$5 each to see the exhibit on Burt Munro, the Invercargill native of World’s Fastest Indian fame. And then they had the nerve to specify that no pictures be taken of the exhibit, it’s not like it was a sensitive work of art or something! See below for my thoughts on that restriction.

Becky has a need for speed, of the imaginary variety

In a development that will surely shock most Green With NZ readers, the top attraction on my list was the Invercargill Brewery, NZ’s southernmost (a popular local business advertising slogan) brewery. They make a nice stout, as well as a few other beers, and we had a nice tasting and tour with the owner on Thursday afternoon. I couldn’t really taste much with my cold, but all the beers seemed to be well-crafted, particularly the stout.

The fabulous Invercargill Brewery. We liked their test beer, the smoked manuka bock.

We also drove down to Bluff, just south of town, and where the ferries depart for Stewart Island. The guidebooks are even harsher on Bluff, saying “If you can’t make it back to Invercargill for the night, try harder.” Which I’d guess we’d agree with, as the town seems to consist largely of one extended industrial area, with a huge aluminum smelter looming across the waterway.

But we did have to visit Bluff, if for no other reason than getting our obligatory photos at the Stirling Point’s guidepost, marking the end of NZ’s main road, State Highway 1. From Cape Reinga to the Bluff, it is cool to realize we’ve made it the length of the country in the last 3 months, and to think about how far we’ve come since then, both literally as well as figuratively. We also intended to go to the famous Paua Shell House, where a couple had meticulously been attaching shiny paua shell pieces to just all the surfaces in the interior of their house over the last several decades. However, we were apparently a little too late, as the house was being advertised for sale by auction in a few weeks. I knew the couple was old, but hadn’t heard in the news that anything had happened to them. Unfortunately that probably marks the end of the Paua Shell House.

Bluff signpost, still sponsered by AA (the Automobile Association, not what you were thinking)

Well Invercargill, we’ve given you a fair shot and found you’re not so bad at all. You’ll never be an Auckland, or even a Dunedin, but that’s no reason to get down on yourself. There can never be too many nice, small cities with an active downtown and plenty of parks like you have. To quote Ben Stiller said in Starsky & Hutch, “Be yourself, that’s what’s cool.”

Sleeping In A Van On Porpoise (Bay) (Apr. 6 - 11)

After leaving Waikawa, we headed just down the road to Dolphin Lodge on Porpoise Bay to continue wwoofing for Nick there. With a mostly full house of backpackers, our accommodations weren’t quite as deluxe as our double room in Waikawa, as we were living in a van, down by the river mailbox! Though the weather has been cool in this area the past week, with 4 or 5 duvets we hardly noticed the chill in the van. To tell the truth, in some ways the van was a bit better than the dorms, as the van provided a reprieve from the snoring, creaking beds, and other assorted unpleasant noises (not to mention odors) that accompany dorm life. (Postscript: our last night in the van, however, was not good times, as Becky’s side of the van leaked and I couldn’t sleep as I had come down with a wicked cold – we decided to leave that morning.)

Becky is blown away by our sleeping accomodations

Wwoofing continued to be cruisey at Dolphin Lodge, with an hour or two of sweeping, mopping, and cleaning to do each day. To be honest, we wouldn’t have necessarily minded a bit more work most days, as there’s only so much to do in the area, especially when the weather is chilly and windy, as it often is. The Southland (region where the Catlins are located) plasters “Southland - Spirit of a Nation” on its signs, whatever that means, although “Southland – Gusty and Mostly Cloudy” would be more apt. This is one windswept little area, and when we’ve seen sun this week, we’ve learned to appreciate it, as it’s parceled out mighty stingily here at the bottom of NZ. Not that a little grey weather will stop you from surfing…

Purakaunui Falls in the Catlins

Far from it actually, as Nick says the worst weather often makes for the best surf. In that spirit, we took surfing lessons from Nick one day in what was probably about 55ºF temperatures. With full wetsuits, you hardly notice the cold though, so being in the ocean for a few hours isn’t bad at all. I really enjoyed the surfing, and we both got up on our boards the first day, catching some waves. I could see how people get a kick out of surfing in all types of weather, as it’s good fun to be the only guy out in the ocean on a freezing day, riding waves and enjoying the surf. Becky feels like it’s a pastime she should get behind, as it would finally justify her vocabulary (“I was like, dude, these waves were so sweet”).

Andrew posing with his extreme foam board

Perhaps the best part of surfing was that several Hector’s dolphins joined us while we took our lesson, swimming just meters from us, and playing around by riding the waves themselves! Porpoise Bay is said to be one of the only beach areas that Hectors come to without being fed by humans, so they’re like locals themselves. It certainly made us glad that we hadn’t paid to swim with dolphins earlier in Kaikoura, Akaroa, etc.

Catching a wave in Porpoise Bay

With little other to do in the area, we went to see the other typical NZ outdoor sights in the area: picturesque caves, beaches, and waterfalls. The Catlins has its own Cathedral Cave, although we’d have to say it’s inferior to the one in the Coromandel, especially since they charge admission here. Tip: don’t go on Easter Sunday as heaps of other people seem to have the same idea, making for a crowded hike. Parakaunui Falls and McLean Falls were worthwhile, however, and we enjoyed the short hikes to get there.

They have sheep in the Catlins!

So what else is there to do in Porpoise Bay? Answer: not much, and there’s a lot of it. To be sure, the Catlins is remote and languid, which I can get behind, in moderation. After a few days of hanging out at Porpoise Bay, though, we went a bit stir crazy. There are only so many penguins you can stake out, dolphins you can spy, and cups of tea you can drink before you bug out from the caffeine and need something else to do. Unfortunately, there isn’t that something more anywhere nearby.

They have blue skies in the Catlins, too! (on occasion)

I could see recommending 2-3 days in the area to see the sights and wildlife and to relax, but more than that takes either a heap of reading material or a staggering dedication to inactivity that we were unable to maintain. We didn’t think of ourselves as “high-energy people”, but after spending a week in the Catlins, I think we established what our minimum threshold of stimulation is. As you might have guessed, Porpoise Bay wasn’t exactly surpassing it.

Despite a bit of ennui and the bad cold I caught there, I think we’ll look back on our time in the Catlins pretty favorably. As the guidebooks will tell you, it’s certainly beautiful and unspoiled, and when the weather is good, the natural beauty really comes through. I’m glad we came here and took surfing lessons, and I’m looking forward to surfing some more when we drive north through the country in the spring. As for the cold, there’s more than a few probable culprits: surfing in really cold weather, cleaning rooms in a hostel, sleeping in a van for a week, just being exposed to heaps of germs in a hostel, who knows…

The sun sets over another lazy day in the Catlins

After wwoofing at several places now, I think we can safely say that the best stays are ones where you’re able to develop a strong rapport and hang out with the hosts. Although Nick and Tomo were certainly nice and friendly people, that didn’t happen for this visit, so we ended up trying to entertain ourselves, which was hit-or-miss. Also, coming from our last wwoofing experience where we were really active most of the time and got on so well with our hosts, this location couldn’t help but end up feeling a little anticlimactic. If we were really into surfing, this would be a tremendous spot, as we’d only have to do a few hours of work a day, then be free to surf and hang out the rest of the time, but oh well, it was pretty good. Next we head on toward the bright lights of big city Invercargill...

Nick and Tomo at the Dolphin Lodge

Way Out In The Catlins (Apr. 2 - 6)

Several weeks ago we were cruising on the WWOOF website and saw a wwoofing opportunity at a hostel in the Catlins region of the South Island that touted a beachside location, free surfing lesson, and penguin conservation work. Intrigued, I sent an email inquiring about wwoofing there, but they replied that they were booked for wwoofers for the season. A week or two later, Becky was reading the posting again, and decided to send another wwoofing request, to which they replied that they might need some help in early April. Not sure what the moral of this story is, maybe that it’s usually better to have a girl send the email?

The ends of the earth, New Zealand-style

Anyway, we arranged to stay in early April and drove to the Catlins from Dunedin. Now when you’re in NZ, you often experience the feeling that you’ve gone a bit back in time to a slower, simpler, and somewhat isolated way of life, especially when you’re outside the major cities. That covers just about the whole of the South Island, with the exception of the Christchurch area.

Windblown trees at Slope Point

Having said that, driving into the Catlins brings that to a whole other level in NZ, as the whole area just feels remote, so remote as to necessitate italics. The Catlins bills itself as “Where the forest meets the sea”, which apparently only occurs hours from civilization. The area is a beautiful stretch of land, but feels far away from just about everything, even though the distances aren’t that great. It may be only a 3-4 hr drive to Dunedin, but it’s a long 3-4 hrs, winding and twisting your way along the coast and the mountains for a few hundred kms. Becky, in particular, didn’t enjoy that aspect of the drive.

Our wwoofing contact, Nick, manages the Curio Bay Dolphin Lodge and also owns another small hostel/holiday house a short ways up the road in Waikawa. Since he and his fiancée Tomo already had a wwoofer booked at the Dolphin Lodge, for the first several days he had us stay and work at the Waikawa Holiday Lodge. In return for a free room, we cleaned the place for a few hours each day, making beds and other bits and pieces.

More a New Zealand bach than a proper backpackers, Waikawa Holiday Lodge

When we first pulled into the Lodge, Becky was unimpressed, saying that if this was a place we had just come to stay for the night, we’d probably be turning around and going somewhere else. To be sure, it’s not an impressive structure from the outside, but the inside is much cozier, especially when the fire’s going in the fireplace. We came to realize that although it is technically a backpackers, it’s best to think of the place more as a rustic bach. Once Becky realized that the Lodge was every bit as nice as the lodgings her family stays in on the Outer Banks, with a substantially bigger shower and a fireplace to boot, she suddenly developed warmer feelings for the place.

Andrew enjoying the fire at the Waikawa Holiday Lodge

What to say about Waikawa… It’s definitely a relaxed and back-to-basics kind of town, with the only internet connection at a local man’s (Jim) house, which is available “anytime I’m at home.” While in the area, we took in the local points of interest, including Nugget Point, which has an awesome location for a lighthouse, and also has heaps of seals nearby. Slope Point, the southernmost spot on the South Island (sorry, Bluff!) is also nearby, so of course we had to stop there and get the requisite photos.

The lighthouse at Nugget Point is a real gem

We stayed and wwoofed in Waikawa for a few days until a family rented out the place for the long Easter weekend, and on the whole had a nice time with the place largely to ourselves. We did meet a nice Kiwi couple from the Wellington area that offered to put us up if we’re ever in their neck of the woods. Well, we almost definitely will be there sooner or later, so Brenda and Blair, see ya in a few months! We’re also hoping the depressive German girls who stayed for a few nights perk up soon, or they’ll be having a miserable rest of their trip.

Andrew leans into the wind at Slope Point

Well Dunedin (Mar. 31 – Apr. 2)

From Akaroa we drove southward to Dunedin, stopping for a night at a campground near Oamaru. The campground was nothing special, but we were excited to see that it had a hot tub. Excited, that is, until we saw that they were charging $5 to hop in for a half hour! Properly offended, we declined, as it felt like a serious breach of our backpacking principles. As Becky can’t resist warm water, one could consider it quite a principled stand on her part. Not exactly a Gandhi or MLK-level stand on our part, but we felt good about it.

The moeraki boulders are surprisingly spherical!

Between Oamaru and Dunedin lies Moeraki Boulders, a group of round boulders on the beach that are, as the postcard puts it, “surprisingly spherical.” We have to say that they were pretty cool, though since you can’t see the bottom halves, half of them seems to be wasted. Also, there didn’t appear to be around 50 boulders as the guidebooks indicated. We wonder if perhaps people have trucked off the smaller ones, as at least one driveway in the area featured some surprisingly spherical decorations.

Becky stretches out on a boulder

In Dunedin, we Couchsurfed for the weekend with a woman named Anne, who lived just outside the city with her son, Andy. Anne is a lovely woman and was so hospitable and gracious to us during our stay, cooking dinner for us both nights we stayed there. Andy was also great, sharing music with us from his vast collection. Thanks to both of them for being so generous! Anne also treated Becky to a small gift for her birthday – the only present she unwrapped this year! – which was a much appreciated gesture.

Anne and Becky - another great couchsurfing host!

While at Anne’s, I was able to catch a bunch more rugby, and figure out the differences between Rugby Union, League, and Sevens. They’re all quite different versions of the same game, and Sevens in particular is a blast. Sevens games are very short (only 14 minutes), so they’re necessarily fast-paced and action-filled affairs featuring end-to-end runs. Sevens tournaments also look like a great party, with stadiums packed with revelers from many countries dressed in ridiculous costumes, boozily swaying, singing, and occasionally watching some rugby action.

The weather in Dunedin wasn’t quite brilliant while we were there, but we did make it out to the Otago Peninsula to try to see some wildlife. We didn’t see any of the advertised penguins or albatrosses, but the drive out there is quite scenic, winding along the harbor to Taiaroa Head. We also went to Baldwin Street in Dunedin, billed as the world’s steepest street. To be honest, it was a bit of a letdown since the street didn’t seem any steeper than half the streets in San Francisco, in my opinion. We learned later that we really should’ve had a box of Jaffas (a round candy-covered chocolate popular in NZ) to roll down the street. We’ll have to remember that if we’re ever back in town.

The steepest street in the world - Baldwin Street in Dunedin

Given that the weather was a bit dodgy, on one of the days we went to see Black Sheep, a NZ film about sheep that turn bloodthirsty as a result of genetic engineering gone wrong. As we haven’t been to a movie in months and we were having crappy weather in a big city, it seemed like the right time to take in a movie, especially since it was a NZ flick. Between the sheep and the fears of GE food, we’d say the film manages to hit two pretty big NZ touchstones right off the bat.

More views of Baldwin Street

Black Sheep is basically a lesser, NZ-centric version of Shaun of the Dead, in the horror-comedy genre, so gory-but-funny scenes and bad jokes abound. And it almost certainly sets the record for most scenes of a sheep leaping from offscreen and disemboweling someone. Overall, we enjoyed Black Sheep, and would recommend it as a good popcorn flick, especially if you’re a Kiwiphile at all. After seeing the killer sheep in the film, though, it did make us do a double-take as we were driving through the countryside the next day.

The view of the lighthouse from Otago Peninsula

We found Dunedin to be a nice, relatively quiet little city in southern NZ. Due to the big university here, Otago, it’s a student-dominated town, but that isn’t bad as there are heaps of cafes in town, especially around the center square, the Octagon. As a city square it’s certainly unique, but as a traffic pattern it seems a bit silly. When you drive on the street around the square you’re just constantly making 45 degree turns.

There are also a few breweries in Dunedin, and you can bet that we stopped by, but we didn’t see anything too interesting going on there. We figured we could skip the Speight’s brewery tour as it was $17 a head! You’d better get a lot of samples at the end for that kind of coin. We’re constantly shocked by the prices they charge here for brewery tours, especially when it’s a beer as uninteresting as Speight’s. Apologies to any Southern Men reading who that may have offended, but people count on this blog for the cold, hard truth. Next, we’re off to wwoof at a backpackers even further south in the Catlins region. It promises penguins and surfing lessons, wish us luck!

On the road to Otago Peninsula

We feel sheepish...

And not just because we're in NZ. As some of you did guess, the previous post was indeed an April Fool's joke. We would've stepped in to correct things earlier, but we're in the Catlins area right now, which is backcountry even by NZ standards and there's very little internet access (we're at a local guy's house right now, actually).

So apologies to everyone who was taken in by our ruse, but we thought we'd hardly fool anyone with this little joke. No hard feelings, right? My original idea was to say we'd been deported after accidentally running over a bunch of sheep, but Becky thought this was a better joke... We had no idea about the depth of emotion about us and our potential nuptials, but it is nice to hear, especially on the other side of the world. Thanks to everyone for all the heartfelt congratulations, and rest assured that we do feel adequately chastised.

P.S. We promise to play no more marriage jokes on anyone, and that from now on you can take everything you read on the blog as the truth. It was nice to get all the comments from everyone!

Tying the Knot!

As a test to see just who reads the blog, Becky and I would like to make a huge announcement here: we’re getting married! We hate to steal the thunder from my Dad and G-Lo, but I guess they did kind of put the idea in our heads. I proposed to Becky on top of one of the mountains in Akaroa as we drove through the other day, and luckily, she said yes! Otherwise, this post would have a much more somber tone…

So what finally convinced me to do it? I’m really not sure, but after my Dad called a few weeks ago, it just sort of occurred to me over the past few days, and I thought, why don’t we? So I asked Becky, and she said yes! As you can imagine, this is all a big deal for us, and we’re still working out how we’re going to make it all happen. We know this may disappoint some people, but we’ll almost definitely be getting hitched here. Don’t worry, we’ll have a big party when we get home! It just seemed like the thing to do, and so whenever people ask us about our wedding later, we can say, “Yeah, we got married in New Zealand when we were there for a year.” More to come later, feel free to leave congrats comments though!

The site where I proposed