Tuesday, October 30, 2007

You Can’t Handle Tom Cruise’s Tepee! (Oct. 22 – 26)

Leaving George and Wellington behind, we headed north, which is appropriate since there’s nowhere to go but north from windy Welly. In our brief dash through the North Island in the summer we missed the west coast pretty much entirely, so we decided to go that a-way. Fifteen minutes out of Wellington we were instantly taken back to our memories of the N Island; rolling green hills littered with cows, hot and sunny weather, and hazy plains stretching from the sea to the far-off mountains in the center of the island. We drove through the black-sand resort towns of Waikanae and Paraparaumu, where we encountered traffic, of all things, which came as a great shock to us – the South Island doesn’t really do congestion. By the end of the day we were knackered as we reached one of the rural Manawatu region’s big cities, Wanganui. Not much going in Wanganui on the Labor Weekend; it’s not the kind of town that has to be on anyone’s must-see itinerary.

The beautiful "Three Sisters" north of Urenui

The next morning we were off further north to Taranaki, where we had lined up some wwoofing work at an organic brewery, White Cliffs, just outside of New Plymouth, the area’s only major city. As you can probably guess, Taranaki’s another really rural region, basically a remote western peninsula with many, many cows. The region is most notable for the eponymous Mt. Taranaki (or Egmont, depending on who you ask – Taranaki sounds cooler so it’s our preferred nomenclature), a conical snow-capped volcanic mountain which rises out of the center of the Taranaki ring plain to dominate the skyline.

Ron Burgundy is ready for his close-up

We’d been keen to see Mt. Taranaki since we’d been here for nearly a year without spotting it, but we’d heard people say that on remarkably clear days it could be seen as far away as the South Island. We haven’t been that lucky, so we figured we had to go to the source. Even while we cruising along Taranaki’s Surf Highway that runs along the peninsula’s western edge, the mountain was only 10 km away but obscured by a heap of clouds on an otherwise clear day. When Taranaki finally emerged as we drove into NP, it was an amazing sight – if for some reason John Madden was describing the area he might say: you’ve got a lot of flat plains and trees, and then all of a sudden, boom, there’s a mountain right there, amazing.

We began wwoofing at White Cliffs because I’m always into seeing how various breweries do things, get another notch in the belt, etc., so we drove out of New Plymouth, after staying there a night. NP’s a nice little beach city, and judging on the big free museum, art gallery, and big public sculpture on the beach, has a fair bit of money coming from the offshore oil and gas discovered nearby in the Tasman Sea. The brewery is in nearby Urenui, which is a typically rural, bush-covered N Island town: this island was built to grow vegetation.

We weren’t quite sure what to expect from White Cliffs since we’d had only brief contact with the owners beforehand, but they turned out to be two generations of a South African family who’d bought the brewery only 4 months earlier. The husband and wife, Ron and Jill, were the owners, but his parents Mike and Rina, originally from Zimbabwe, did the brewing and much of the day-to-day operations. They were a bit older but had to work, owing to the weakness of the South African rand compared to the kiwi dollar. With the white lab coat, Mike got called ‘The Doctor’ a lot, though we reckon that the short shorts (certainly not uncommon around here) should give him away. The brewery was an interesting little set-up: just a tiny operation where they had a little retail space, tanks, refrigerator, and storage space in the equivalent of a big two-car garage. For our part, Becky and I puttered around for a few days there, helping mostly with the bottling, but not really doing too much else. At this point we’re packaging experts.

The good doctor poses with his tonic to cure all "ales"

Our living space was amusing, as we had a little shack set in the back of the property, in the midst of a wee avocado orchard. It certainly was peaceful and tranquil. The only bummer was that the kitchen and toilet was on the other side of the grove, requiring a 5-minute walk through chilly, wet grass. But our favorite aspect was that in the middle of the orchard, the brewery’s previous owner had bought and placed the tepee used by Tom Cruise in the filming of The Last Samurai, much of which occurred nearby. Even if he’s become a crazy Scientologist, we still had to chuckle when we walked past his tepee every morning. The Taranaki terrain was apparently a good stand-in for rural Japan, especially Mt. Taranaki, which looks like Mt. Fuji from a distance.

Our migrant laborer shack amongst the avocado grove

Overall, it was a reasonable enough place to WWOOF, but it certainly didn’t blow us away, and after a few days we began to get keenly aware that our time in NZ is quickly coming to a close, and there is more we’ve yet to see. It was an unusual WWOOFing situation in that they weren’t feeding us there, but instead were paying us for some of our work. That’s alright, but wasn’t what we anticipated. In addition, I didn’t reckon there would be much that I could learn from them, as they’ve barely had more brewing experience than I’ve had. Thus, we decided to leave after four days. Even though this WWOOFing place was no Arapawa Island, don’t feel bad for us – it’s not every day you get to share a yard with Tom Cruise’s tepee…

I LOVE this tepee!

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Dispatch From The North (Oct. 20 – 21)

Andrew has insisted that I finally take a turn at this blog writing thing and suggested that I write the “farewell to the South Island” post. It’s not his worst idea, actually, as teary goodbyes are one of my specialties. We had a nice send-off from Arapawa with all the remaining Radons waving goodbye from the wharf as we sailed back to Picton (all except for James, who was already pre-occupied with the blue motorbike).

Andrew and I say farewell to Arapawa Island

From Picton we headed to Blenheim to spend one last evening with the boys from Renaissance Brewing, barbecuing with Brian, his fam, and Andy and his giant children. Seriously, who is going to cook for us on the North Island? Brian made a very nice toast to Andrew for all his efforts to spread the Renaissance beer gospel on the South Island. It makes us feel as though we’ll be missed on the Mainland. Here’s hoping the Renaissance guys make a good fist of it, and if/when we return to NZ, we’ll return to an even bigger operation.

The next morning we enjoyed a nice breakfast, and spent a few hours entertaining the kids (OK I entertained the kids while Andrew watched the Springboks beat the Pommies in the Rugby World Cup final) before heading through Picton once again, this time to catch our ferry back to the North Island and civilization, more or less. Several months ago I would have really been looking forward to the trip back to the North Island, since the closer we got to Auckland, the closer we would be to our trip home. In June, while toiling in the vineyards of Marlborough, I had decided that I had had enough of the backpacker lifestyle. I even made a few teary phone calls home and started making alternate (albeit implausible) plans to go to Oktoberfest or Barcelona. I managed to stick it out, however, and now our departure date of December 2nd seems to be approaching all too rapidly.

Andrew enjoys the calm seas on the ferry

All in all we spent eight months traveling around the South Island, north and south, east and west, looping over track numerous times. We didn’t really have a set-in-stone itinerary, which becomes painfully obvious when you look at our Jauntlet map. But for us much of the adventure of the trip was in not really having a plan. People have asked where we spent our time in the South, and all we can really say is “all over.” I tried to retrace our route in my mind while the ferry slowly moved through Tory Channel, but only got as far as our flight from the dirty flat in Wanaka before I was distracted by our final trip past Arapawa Seafarm (second house from the end as you head into Cook Strait). For the most part, time has seemed to move very quickly, although we could look at certain pieces of the trip (see Lemon Tree Cafe) as being interminably long. The details will soon start to fade, and soon we’ll only remember the good bits.

Our final glimpse of Arapawa Seafarm as we return to the North Island

Moving away from more philosophical ponderings, arriving in Wellington again it was a bit surreal to find ourselves back on George’s doorstep (see CouchSurfing) after having first met him in February. We stayed with him shortly before our departure from the North Island, when all the best parts of our trip were still ahead of us in the South Island. Now we have less than two months to go until we leave New Zealand for good (or at least until the 2011 Rugby World Cup). George was just as we remembered him: friendly, talkative, enthusiastic. Since we saw him last, he had visited the states, went kayaking in Fiji, had a relationship, switched departments at work, and torn down all the gib (drywall) in the guest bedroom. He even found the time to sew a prototype of his new blanket, which we are certain will turn the blanket industry on its head for years to come. What have you done with your last eight months, whew! We spent a cruisey night in the capital splashing out for thai takeaways and chai gelato for dessert (this counts as really living it up for us).

George's amazing blanket! (patent pending)

After watching Borat, Andrew and I crashed on our respective couches. On our first visit George’s living room was dominated by a queen-sized bed set up to accommodate guests. It has since found a new home – in someone else’s home – so we took the couches, making this perhaps our first actual “couch” surfing experience in NZ). The next morning we woke up early to beat the morning crowds at the local cafes. George knows all the best places for brunch with a view and took us to Maranui Surf Club Café for pancakes with bacon and banana (an NZ specialty… you should try it!). Then we hit the road north. We’ve had to say quite a few goodbyes in this country already, and I’ve already shed quite a few tears. I can only imagine my reaction when we get on the plane in Auckland. But we’ve got heaps of time til then, literally weeks!

A couch with a view, from George's living room window

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Marlborough Sounds Like A Good Place to Wwoof (Oct. 3 – 19)

Sometime in the past few months, as we were living in Chch, we began to line up our post-Linda and Don plans for our last two months in NZ. It’s hard to believe that we’ve been here for nine months now, and that we’ve now got less than two months to go. It’s hard to effectively describe it, but at some moments it hardly feels like we’ve been on the South Island for eight months now. On the other hand, there are times when I feel acutely aware of how long we’ve been here. But I digress, since this is making me sound like an old person.

Anyway, we became intrigued with the idea of wwoofing somewhere in the Marlborough Sounds, looking for some isolated place accessible only by boat, where we could soak up the natural scenic beauty, etc. etc. Our recent trek on the Queen Charlotte track with L&D only heightened our anticipation of wwoofing on a lush green island in the middle of Marlborough’s rolling submerged mountain ranges. Thus we were excited to find a wwoofing accommodation with a family living on Arapawa Island.

Arapawa is an island located on the Tory Channel at the northeastern tip of the Sounds, where the Wellington-Picton ferries cruise past every hour. The family with whom we’re staying farm and dive for paua (NZ abalone), and also run a few sheep and cattle on their sprawling island property. When we first contacted them they were keen for us to get there as soon as possible after Oct. 1, so the best we could do was to get there on the 3rd, after putting L&D on a plane the previous night in Chch.

Back at the ranch on Arapawa Island

We met the husband, Mike, in Picton, where he was making a paua delivery, and rode back with him in their small boat, which is basically the family’s only means of transportation to reach the outside world. As the family lives at the northern end of Arapawa at the end of the Sounds, it’s a bit of a haul to their place, about an hour or so. In fact, from their house on a clear day you can see right across the Cook Strait to the Wellington Hills of the North Island. For those familiar with the Wellington-Picton ferry, their property is the second one on the right as you enter the Sounds, with the red and white maritime markers.

Becky boards the "Freedom" on our way to Arapawa Island

Always prone to motion sickness, Becky had skipped lunch before we boarded, which was smart, as the chop in the Sounds was fairly intense. Arriving at Arapawa we had our most exciting wwoofing induction yet as we had to toss our packs up onto the wharf and then leap from a wildly rocking boat. We narrowly missed a good soaking and lost luggage when a massive wave washed over the wharf right behind us. Antonia quickly came out to meet us on one of their 4x4’s with two dogs and one kid in tow. She then hopped onto the backhoe to pull Mike and the dingy out from the roiling waves. Whew!

The view from the wharf on a calm day

Both Mike, who’s from California, and Antonia, who is a Kiwi, are tremendously keen divers, and met in California some years ago while diving professionally. They’ve been at Arapawa for about 14 years now, and have 3 kids: 9-year old twins Sarah and Jacob, and a 5-year old, James. The kids are tremendously energetic. Mike is often in the States fishing or diving professionally, leaving Antonia to manage the farm in his absence, often with a team of wwoofers. Much like Belinda, she left us amazed at her incredible energy level. There simply aren’t enough hours in a day for her to accomplish everything she’d like to do between teaching the kids, running the house, and all the various tasks in raising paua and running their farm.

Wwoofing at Arapawa gave us an opportunity to do some unique work that we haven’t done previously. Since living on the island requires the family to do correspondence school with their kids, Becky’s background in education came in handy – she helped Antonia in the family’s schoolroom on many days. That was typically followed by sundry household activities (cooking, cleaning, child-minding, pet-minding) until the day eventually wound down around 7:00 PM.

My tasks were generally more varied than Becky’s. In times of better weather, their other wwoofer, Hidei, and I would often go out on the property’s steep hillsides, weeding tarhwini plants and spraying that most hated and invasive plant, gorse. Hidei, who was from Japan, was a good sport and a hard worker, and we got along quite well. Though he spoke almost no English, we communicated reasonably well, which I attribute largely to my excellence in the art of mime.

I’d say I also earned my forestry merit badge at Arapawa, wielding a chainsaw to carve up firewood, which can become tiring, but which I rate as excellent work. It’s surprisingly satisfying to stack up a huge pile of freshly cut firewood. Mostly I was keen to do any job that required use of one of their several 4x4’s. I never mastered backing up a 4x4 with a trailer on the back, but riding around the property, up forested hills and through shallow creeks, I could easily see why you’d want one, or three, as they had at Arapawa. Actually, I think many of their chores might just be convenient excuses to go for a ride on the 4x4…

Andrew's a lumberjack, and he's okay


Sarah and Jacob negotiating turns to ride the blue motorbike

Becky and I both spent heaps of time in the paua farm, especially on the many rainy spring days we endured at Arapawa. If anything, the weather at the edge of the Cook Strait is changeable – some warm, sunny, 20ºC weather interspersed with rainy, cold, 10 ºC days. And the wind is really something there as well; maybe not Canterbury bad, but when a southerly gale is blowing through the Sounds it certainly les you know. On the paua farm our specialty was in separating and sizing small paua, a yearly task that was well-suited for bad weather. We got pretty good at it – I can tell a 45mm paua from a 50mm one by sight.

Becky measures some paua at the farm

We ended up staying with the family for 16 days, and besides a few trips out on their inflatable dinghy never left the island in that time. It’s a unique experience living on an island, and I was interested in how the family lived their life on an isolated island with only a couple neighbors. Though with modern communications, biweekly mail boat visits, and ferries going by every hour, the isolation certainly isn’t complete. They even had broadband Internet and Sky (cable) television, certainly not regular fixtures in all Kiwi homes. We certainly weren’t complaining that they had those things.

We have to say that it was perhaps the most remarkable place we’ve wwoofed at. Between the Sounds, a sprawling property on a relatively isolated island, the outdoorsy 4x4-loving kids, a paua farm and hatchery, and hosts that dive for paua for a living, there were so many interesting things going on. We were properly immersed in the family’s life, even joining them on a family picnic to the “Knob,” the highest point on Arapawa Island. Loaded up on two four-wheelers with two dogs in tow, the eight of us traveled to the Knob for lunch and to take in the views, which were spectacular.

Enjoying our picnic lunch at the Knob

Also, many of the things about wwoofing at Arapawa were top-notch. Antonia is an excellent cook, preparing roasts, cottage pies, and heaps of other tasty dishes at dinner. And don’t even get me started on desserts – they took dessert very seriously, which I was happy to see. There was always a cake, cookies, or a crumble around. Mike says he gains ten pounds when he’s at home, and I could certainly believe it. If I hadn’t been running around as much as I was, I probably would’ve gained weight as well. Additionally, the family had a very good set-up for having wwoofers, as we had our own very nice ensuite room in a small building off the house. Hidei had his own ensuite room separate from the house as well. You could hardly ask for better food or accommodation in a wwoofing arrangement.

After some sub-par wwoofing experiences (see Lemon Tree and the garlic farm), Arapawa Island proved to be the wwoofing tonic we were looking for. We were made to feel a part of this amazing family and learned a great deal during our time here. They benefited from our efforts and 6+ hours of work a day while we enjoyed comfortable accommodation and delicious food. Becky’s cooking will have improved after our stay here, and I’ve learned new things as well (most importantly, I’ve learned I should try and figure out how to get a 4x4 when I get home, hehe). It’s been a great way to spend a few weeks this spring before our quickly approaching departure from the South Island. Cheers, Arapawa!

A final farewell from the wharf

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Guest Blog: Linda & Don on the South Island

Well, everyone, Don and I have survived our trip to NZ, and have traveled well. Andrew and Becky have since effectively covered our vacation in their blog, but they seem to want something from us too. Why would that be? They do such a grand and thorough job as it is. Nevertheless we will give it a whirl.

Don takes in the view from the Old Slaughter House

There are some aspects of the trip that B&A can’t touch, such as the flight into Chch. Since B&A landed in Auckland and took the ferry across, they missed all the magnificent views from the plane. Don and I were mesmerized even before we landed in Auckland. I, a lover of sunsets and sunrises, was blown away by the sunrise as we approached Auckland. My only disappointment was a lack of a picture window on the plane. Surely the transportation industry is missing the point when they don’t market the views from the skies, as no one else is able to compete against them.

Linda and Don enjoy the sunset (over the Tasman Sea, not the Southern Alps)

Once we resumed our short trip from Auckland to Chch, Don and I were glued to the window, both fighting for the best view. The scenery was unrivaled and unending. The Southern Alps, which NZ is famous for, were often beyond our vision during the land trip because of the cloud cover. Not so in the skies. These tall peaks, covered with snow, jutted through the clouds trying to reach out to the plane. They were absolutely glorious, and a good welcoming to the South Island. Beyond the mountains and the clouds we were greeted by the vineyards, sometimes covered with red netting, and remote roads, seemingly going nowhere for miles and miles. Only in the air can you really see how unpopulated and unspoiled NZ is. New Zealanders have a paradise, and they know it.

B&A also introduced us to the world of hostels. For those of you who are not familiar with this term as used in NZ, a hostel, or BBH, is a larger home with many bedrooms which include singles, doubles, and dorms. They provide, if you are lucky, multiple bathrooms, and kitchens. Sometimes you are asked to leave you shoes at the door, and always to clean up the kitchen after your meal. We were more often than not able to stay at the best hostels, and once, Becky informed me, our hostel had the best rating in the world--that would be the ‘Old Slaughter House’. This hostel, built on the side of a steep hill, included a ten minute hike up the hill in order to reach it. We were fortunate as our host, David, brought our luggage up on his four-wheeler, saving our backs and our lungs.

Don discusses his latest journal entry with Becky, while Andrew enjoys appetizers at that evening's backpackers

David had other amenities not offered by most hostels. Of course, the best one, as far as I was concerned, was the sunset. We could watch the sun as it sank into the ocean from David’s wrap-around porch high on the side of the hill. He also offered hot water bottles to keep us snug as a bug at night. Did I mention before that these hostels do not have central heat? Well they don’t. No comforts like home! Some supplied small electric heaters; others fireplaces. But not David, he supplied hot water bottles, and I am going to run out and buy them for my girls to use this winter when they come home for visits. They’ll just love it.

Living in a hostel also gave us the opportunity to cook and enjoy all our meals together. Thanks to Becky this usually came off without a hitch. Most kitchens, as far as I was concerned, only had the most basic supplies. But Becky managed to cook varied and healthy meals. However, she expected Don and me to take turns with her and Andrew. This included, not only the cooking, but the planning, the buying, the storing, the dishwashing, etc. etc. Most meals came off pretty well, but then there was the night of the omelets. What a disaster that was! I won’t even go into it. Thank God there were nights we eat out or had smoked salmon, or mussels at David’s or the nights that Chris and Belinda cooked for us. Those were great nights! Chris made us a traditional NZ pavlova cake. I tried to replicate it last night for my friend Pam. It was nothing like Chris’s. In fact, I had to make it twice. The first time it just fell apart; the second time it did again, but I was forced to use it. The only saving grace was the whipped cream, strawberries, and kiwis. Anyway, Pam acted like it was great. Thank goodness for friends.

Unlike some of our friends, who have toured NZ via a cruise ship, we were fortunate to tour the country in B&A’s Subaru, affectionately called ‘Ron Burgundy’. Because of this reliable hunk of machinery, we saw places most tourists never get to see. It took us up the highest mountains and to the most desolate beaches such as Gore Bay, where we saw our first bull kelp. If you don’t know any better, when you see it floating in the ocean, it looks like a seal. Ron took us to Farewell Spit, a narrow peninsula consisting of sand, seals, and a Gannet Colony. This peninsula, much like the 90 mile beach on the north island is restricted to one tour company so it is vastly desolate.

We wade across a tidal pool to make our way to the gannet colony at Farewell Spit

Did I mention that Ron only knows how to drive on the left hand side of the road? Don was able to experience this first hand, the day he volunteered to drive. The ‘golden rule’ according to Don is keep the driver in the middle of the road; left turns are like right turns and right turns are like left turns unless it is a gentlemen’s turn (ask Becky or Andrew for clarification). And, then there are give ways, round-abouts, judder bars, and one-lane bridge give ways. Also, New Zealanders are speedsters, never staying within the posted speed limit, always looking for the opportunity to pass you.

Don behind the wheel of Ron Burgandy

We had fun; let’s do it again in 2011.

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Running On Fumes Down The West Coast (Plus Other Exciting Things I Have No Room For In The Title) (Sep. 28 – Oct. 2)

Leaving Golden Bay, we proceeded toward the West Coast for a quick jaunt down the coast before heading back east to Chch through Arthur’s Pass. Friday brought our longest driving day of 5 hours or so, as the driving distance to the West Coast is substantial and because it takes awhile to traverse the many switchbacks up and then down Takaka Hil in GB. To break up the drive we stopped in Buller Gorge, home of the “longest swingbridge in New Zealand”, which is a bit touristy, but what the heck. Don especially enjoyed the gorge because as a civil engineer he appreciates a good bridge and also because he opted to spend the extra bob and take the Superman zip-line back across the river.

The longest swing bridge in New Zealand

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a civil engineer!

Once on the West Coast we took L&D to perhaps our favorite hostel, The Old Slaughterhouse, in Hector. TOS, of course, requires a 10 minute bushwalk up a hill to reach the hostel, but with such good accommodations even L&D didn’t mind a little hike. With our second day of good weather in a row we were able to see the sun set over the Tasman Sea, quite possibly the strongest of TOS’s many selling points. L&D had been asking about a sunset for days, so it was good, as professional tour guides, to be able to deliver. It’s tough to beat eating freshly collected and cooked mussels while watching the sun set over the sea from a deck perched about 100m above the beach. We realize we have it tough here, but we persist.

Mom and Don enjoy the sunset from the porch at the Old Slaughterhouse

On the next day we drove south to Punakaiki, for what became our third trip to the Pancake Rocks. Once again we didn’t see any blowhole action there (Becky claims she saw a blowhole when we were there with Marie and Alex, but we’re all skeptical, frankly). Linda was a diehard, camping out for about an hour at the notorious spot where Becky saw the Loch Ness Monster…er fantastic blowhole action last time, but alas, no joy for her on this particular day.

Beyond being the scenic drive it always is, our brief tour down the West Coast was pretty uneventful except for the fact that we failed to fill up with gas before we left Westport. This became an issue because we had less than a quarter tank as we left Westport, and there’s no petrol for about 100km between there and Greymouth – I must have been wearing my Bad Idea Jeans. However, miracle of miracles, we somehow coaxed more than 580km out of one tank of gas, which is a certainly a record for Ron Burgundy in 2007. Our previous high mileage total had been in the low 500’s, so you can imagine it was quite a white-knuckled drive for us that day.

Always read the road signs - they're not fooling!

The worst part of the drive was that it had to last so long, since I was driving a bit slowly and coasting downhill whenever possible to conserve petrol. We can say in all honesty that we’ve never been so excited to see Greymouth. I’ve never run out of gas before, and wasn’t keen to do it along an isolated road on the NZ’s west coast, so the success of this trip represented a huge victory for the forces of good. I don’t want to read too much into this particular episode, but I think you can safely say that the universe thinks we’re living right.

Karmic deliverance notwithstanding, when we hit Greymouth we made a left turn directly east, heading back towards Chch, and promptly rejoined the poor weather that has been tormenting the South Island the past few weeks. That evening, staying in Arthur’s Pass, we were pounded all night by a ridiculously windy rainstorm. The next day we took L&D into Chch, which was surprisingly warm and sunny, for a little sight-seeing and souvenir shopping. You can’t go wrong with a hike at the Sign of the Kiwi or Chch’s botanic gardens, but Cathedral Square, as always, leaves a bit to be desired. Which is a shame really, since it’s the focal point of the city and should be a happening location.

Punting down the Avon through a sea of daffodils

That evening we stopped in with our good friends Kieran and Belinda in Amberley, where they offered to put us all up for the night. Belinda made a roast, and there was plenty of good beer and wine to go around. However, the highlight of the evening was probably Don donning cricket gear and facing a few pitches from Oscar in the middle of the dining room. He’d been asking Kieran heaps of cricket questions, so they thought an object lesson was probably the most appropriate way to show him. Maybe you had to be there, but it was pretty hilarious. After a good day of driving and sight-seeing and an evening of good food and wine, not to mention cricket, we were set to crash.

Cricket, anyone?

The next morning, with just two more days left in L&D’s New Zealand experience, we took them out to Akaroa on the Banks Peninsula, another of our favorite spots on the South Island. Since Don is a really avid golfer, he was keen to golf in NZ, where owing to the small population it has some ridiculous number of golf courses per capita. We promised to get him on a course at some point, and after driving by countless courses over the past two weeks, finally got him to the Akaroa Golf Club on his penultimate day in NZ. Akaroa, as you might expect, has a nice, hilly course, though a number of the fairways would be best described as claustrophobic. They certainly don’t have a surplus of real estate there. Don’s quite good and easily beat my over-100 round, though for not getting out on the course in the past year I felt like I swung the sticks pretty well.

Don feels more at ease with a golf club than a cricket bat

For L&D’s last blast on Tuesday we ran them back into Chch, where they saw kiwis at the Cathedral Square aquarium, bought more souvenirs (including some cool maps), and went to the Chch Casino. Our advice would be to skip the Casino, unless you’re a slot machine or roulette nut. The Casino doesn’t seem to offer much else, much to Linda’s disappointment, as she was hoping for some good video poker action. I would’ve liked to play some craps for my dad, but no dice (literally or figuratively) there either. After seeing their requisite Maori cultural performance, it was time to put them on a plane home. Overall, a very good two weeks with Linda and Don, thanks for visiting, you two! Now…who’s next?

Monday, October 08, 2007

Golden Oldies in Golden Bay (Sep. 24 – 27)

Terminology note: during our visit at Chris and Martin’s, Martin off-handedly referred to Linda and Don as our “oldies”, and for better or worse the term caught on with Becky and I. L&D haven’t seemed to mind much, so that’s good, but we enjoy it so much that we’d probably use it either way, we might just be more circumspect in our usage. With that in mind…

From the Sounds we took the oldies to Nelson, which is generally sunny, but wasn’t exactly cooperating for our day there. While in Nelson, we didn’t seem to get heaps of input on activities for the day, and so we took it pretty easy after our long hike the day before. I did take the opportunity to highjack our trip for a little while for a beer-related activity, diverting us to Founder’s Park for a mug at the brewery in the afternoon. I’ll cop to that being a danger of traveling with me. Otherwise, we took it easy in Nelson, enjoying the free-but-glacially slow internet at our hostel and playing cards.

Hot "tubs" by the stream at the Innlet

On the next day we headed out to Golden Bay, the hippie-rific rural beach area north of Nelson. You may recall our earlier visit to Golden Bay, where we stayed at a really cruisey Buddhist-inspired hostel, Shambhala. Unfortunately Shambhala was still closed for the low season this time, but Golden Bay seems to have good hostels all over the place, and we found one, The Innlet, and had it to ourselves for two nights. That’s the beauty of traveling in off-peak seasons here, and it’s tough to beat.

Hardhats are required for the tour at Ngarua Cave

Though the weather didn’t cooperate much of the time in Golden Bay, we were able to make the best of it, stopping at Ngarua Caves, a cool limestone cave formation with a tour guide who was a dead ringer for Albert Finney. We also stopped at a farm zoo/eel attraction that was highly recommended by Chris and one of Becky’s convention center workmates. It was surprisingly fun to feed eels pieces of raw meat, but Becky really got a kick out of feeding a little pig that followed us around the park – he looked so much like her sister’s dog that she began to call him Mickey as well. We also got out on Wharariki Beach that day and were able to find seal pups there again, but had to hurry and wade back to the beach before the tide got too high that afternoon.

Feeding the eels mince (otherwise known as ground beef) at the farm

Andrew suspiciously eyes the llama, who we called "Snarfy"

Becky makes friends with Mickey's swine doppelganger downunder

The next day we took a guided tour out on the Farewell Spit, Golden Bay’s unique sand formation that stretches towards the North Island. The Spit is basically a long sandbar extending from the tip of the South Island, and is formed from sand that is washed down rivers on the country’s West coast and subsequently carried by the strong northward current along the coast. It finally makes its way to the Spit, where it accumulates in a largely straight line, now about 24km in length. The Spit is a strongly protected environmental area, and the only way to get to the end is on a guided tour. Becky seemed to regret not taking the tour last time we were in GB, so I suspect we went there because of her as much as Linda or Don, but it was really good so no complaints by anyone.

The amazing upclose view of the gannet colony at Farewell Spit

Much like our tour on the North Island’s 90-Mile Beach, the Spit tour was an interesting drive down a dune-filled beach to a scenic lighthouse. Luckily, our tour this time was much smaller (only 6 of us), and our tour guide, an enthusiastic German, Kersten, was heaps better than our Cape Reinga driver, who prattled on for over an hour on the gory details of the local fishing competition. The highlight of a tour of the Spit is the gannet colony at the end, which is the only known one in the world not perched on a cliff. The gannets are a beautiful and colorful bird, and being able to get really close to a huge group of them was worth the ride and cost.

The Farewell Spit lighthouse

Of course no visit to GB is complete without a pilgrimage to the Mussel Inn, home to NZ’s most out-of-the-way, and some might say best, brewpubs. We can heartily recommend the mussel chowder with a Captain Cooker manuka beer to wash it down. We were fortunate to arrive when we did, as it had only re-opened for the spring the week before, having been closed for about six weeks in the winter. Driving around to various attractions we found out that to be the case for more than a few places, so good timing Linda and Don!

On our next and last day in GB we went out sea kayaking in the northern part of the Abel Tasman National Park. We’d been to Abel Tasman our last time in GB, where we did a hike and sail excursion, but again Becky seemed to regret not doing the kayaking. Since Linda is a keen kayaker back home she was keen to kayak in NZ, though she wasn’t so sure of doing it in the sea as compared to a placid lake. In the end it turned out to be a great kayak though, with sunny weather and generally calm seas around Tata Beach, where we put in. We got a few hours to paddle around rocky islands containing shag colonies, and saw a few seals to boot. The shags are another cool bird to see, but you definitely don’t want to get too close to them, as they seem to be more than happy to poop on you. Judging from the stench around the island, it’s not something you want to wear.

Andrew avoiding the shags while kayaking in Abel Tasman National Park

Alas, after 4 days our time at GB was up, but despite the bad weather on several days, this visit only cemented its status as one of our favorite places in NZ. You stay cruisey, Golden Bay.


Saturday, October 06, 2007

Marlborough, From the Hills to the Sounds (Sep. 22 – 23)

On Saturday morning we awoke to the smells of Chris preparing a huge proper Kiwi breakfast for us. I’ll stop saying how nice they are because it probably embarrasses them, but damn. Eggs, bacon, tomato, potatoes, toast, you get the idea. It was fantastic. Full of a tasty breakfast, we made our way out to the Omaka Air Heritage Museum, highly rated by our brewing pals, Brian and Andy. It’s a nice museum featuring original and replica WWI-era aircraft. After the museum we went to the Wither Hills Farm Park, where we did a nice little hike in the hills above Blenheim. It was a good example of the sun-baked hills common to Marlborough as well as giving a good view of Blenheim. Parenthetically, the housing lots on the outskirts of Blenheim seemed ridiculously pricey to us: NZ$150,000 just for a decent lot, whew!

You could be the lucky owner of this fine piece of real estate

From Blenheim we drove just up the road to Picton, gateway to the Marlborough Sounds. The Sounds is an amazing bit of NZ geography at the top of the South Island: a range of rolling mountains half-submerged in the sea, creating an intricate waterway maze full of nooks, crannies, and hidden coves aplenty. During our time in Picton we learned that the Sounds make up about 1/6 of NZ’s coastline mileage, which is amazing considering it takes up a rather small area overall. Just as when we took the ferry from Wellington to Picton in February, we were again captivated by the unique beauty of the area.

I guess you could say the view of the Sounds from the harbor is 'Pictonuresque'

Our main purpose for taking Don and Linda to the Sounds was to do a portion of the Queen Charlotte Track, which in its entirety is a 71km walk along the ridges and coasts of the Sounds. We only had a day to hike so we took a ferry out to the farthest point on the track, Ship Cove, and did a 5 hour walk to Furneaux Lodge, one of the many lodges along the route. Though we didn’t really have gorgeous weather for the walk on Sunday, it really didn’t hurt much, as we were under canopy for a large portion, and the skies cleared markedly by the time afternoon rolled around. Though Queen Charlotte isn’t considered one of NZ’s Great Walks, it’s definitely a marquee one, and well worth the cost of the boat in Picton.

A rare moment of good weather on the Queen Charlotte track

After the largely flat but surprisingly long day’s hike (about 14km) L&D were pretty well bushed, so I think we accomplished our goal there. The ride back on the ferry was a welcome break, and we chatted with the boat captain at length on our way back. He showed us points of interest on the Sounds and took us by a local salmon farm that has been having heaps of seal trouble since its inception. Seals don’t usually live in the Sounds, but the lure of the tasty salmon has brought them there, where they’ve managed to outwit the aquaculturists many times over the past few years. They’ve also become aggressive, leaping into the workers’ quarters and chasing the workers throughout the facility. Sounds like a fun job, eh? Anyway, after a good day of hiking it was nice to have Linda prepare a home-cooked-ish meal, a roast beef (you can probably guess how many times Becky has ever made that) before we all passed out in our beds.

Mom and Don are on the run from the chickens

Thursday, October 04, 2007

It Isn’t Easy Going Back to Green (Oct. 8)

As you can see we’re no longer All Black With NZ, meaning that either NZ has won the Rugby World Cup or has crashed out of it. If you’re following the RWC at all you know that the latter has unfortunately happened, the All Blacks having lost a crushing defeat to the French in Cardiff yesterday morning, 20-18. Like the rest of New Zealand we’re gutted by this loss, as it was a heartbreaker.

Heavily favored to win this year’s RWC, the All Blacks came in looking like world-beaters, having lost only 5 matches over the past four years. After a far-too-easy first round RWC group, however, the ABs hadn’t had a challenge in beating the likes of Portugal and Romania in what were little more than glorified exhibition matches. The doomsayers were correct that this was poor preparation for a game against the French, a side that shocked the ABs in the 1999 semifinals.

In the past few weeks, no one from the sports media to the NZ public rated the French as having much of a chance, especially given their surprise loss to the Argentines in group play. Additionally, the ABs gave a visiting French side several sound thrashings in their NZ tour earlier this year. Having never lost before the semifinal round in a RWC, it was also unthinkable for the boys in black to lose this early.

However, the French didn’t read this script and came out defiant, standing up to the ABs’ haka, and giving no quarter, especially on defense. Though they were undoubtedly aided by some very questionable refereeing, especially on a yellow card on the ABs’ Luke McAlister and a missed call on a terribly blatant forward pass on what was France’s winning try late in the 2nd half, the French certainly played hard enough to win. In the end the AB’s didn’t get it done, and the French were jubilant. From our perspective, it was one of the most nerve-wracking sporting events I’ve watched, and when the French showed life in the 2nd half I began to have a sinking feeling, like it just wasn’t the ABs’ day.

At the moment, we’re out on an island in the Marlborough Sounds but I’m sure the rest of the country is in a serious funk. They love their rugby and their ABs here, and I imagine most of NZ will be having a ‘case of the Mondays’ tomorrow. Expect heaps of recriminations and self-flagellating commentary here, but all I know is that we’re bumming. Between the Penn State-Michigan game and now this, it hasn’t been a good few weeks for us in sport, and this certainly is not the way we wanted to go back to Green. I’d say c’est la vie, but it just might be too soon to use a French phrase ‘round these parts. For now, All Blacks fans will have to wait another 4 long years until the 2011 RWC, which will be held here in NZ. Where there’ll be no pressure on that squad, I’m sure!

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

More Guests for Becky (Sep. 20 - 21)

Pre-script: We’ve been meaning to get some of these posts up for awhile now, but internet access isn’t always constant in NZ, you know how it is. For more details of our trip with Don and Linda, click here .

On Thursday morning, after months of planning and back-and-forth emails and calls confirming various travel details, we welcomed Becky’s mom Linda and her dance partner/friend/(someone think of a good term to describe middle-aged boyfriend), Don into NZ at the Christchurch airport. After about 26 hours of flying from the east coast of the States, they were happy to finally arrive at their destination, though they looked no worse for the wear. Having picked up and dropped off people on five trips so far, we’re getting to be old pros at the Chch airport, though that doesn’t mean I managed to park in the best lot. However, I am getting closer, so if anyone else wants to visit, I promise to park in the most favorable lot next time, in case that might sway your opinion.

Linda and Don are all smiles as they arrive in Chch

Luckily for L&D the weather over the South Island cleared up in time for their arrival, affording them great views of the Southern Alps from the sky as they flew in to Chch. We’re getting to think we should’ve flown out of Chch at some point to get such a view of the South Island, as it sounds lovely. Our lot is so tough… Anyway, congrats to Don, as this is his first time out of the country, and he had to finally get his passport to make this trip. I guess if you’re going to wait this long to come overseas, it’s good to do it in style and fly all away around the world. Good on ya, Don.

Also fortunate for our visitors is that they weren’t very jet-lagged, having slept a good portion of the LA-Auckland leg of their flight, as we had a good drive planned for the day of their arrival. Since they’ve come to visit while we we’re still on the South Island and we’ve frankly driven around the southern circuit enough by this point, we’ve planned an itinerary to take them around the northern part of the South Island. And so on the first of their 12 days in NZ, we had a drive along the east coast planned, up to Kaikoura, just a few hours north of Chch.

Along the way to Kaikoura, we made a few stops, dropping by Kieran at the Brew Moon as he was brewing up a batch of his black beer, and then out to Gore Bay, a prototypical NZ beach – secluded, empty, full of cliffs, and largely undeveloped. Out in Kaikoura, the weather was again cloudy for us. We’ve driven through Kaikoura 4 or 5 times now, and all but one time it was cloudy, which is really too bad because the town is really something when the weather is favorable. Unfortunately, we can’t believe that that happens much of the time there. Still, we managed to take in a walk and see a few seals (mostly sleeping, but still) along the way before dinner. All in all, a pretty full first day for our new arrivals.

Don is king of the world at Gore Bay

On the next day we headed out of Kaikoura since there wasn’t much we wanted to do there. To wit, most of the activities in Kaikoura revolve around whale-watching (which is expensive here, causes Becky and Linda sea-sickness, and which they’ve done back home), or lobster eating (which is also quite pricey and which Don doesn’t enjoy at all). So heading north towards Blenheim really made the most sense.

On the way out of Kaikoura the weather really improved, allowing us to see the snow-covered mountains to the west and the sea stretching forever on the eastern horizon. This gave Don an opportunity to make good use of his new video camera. He has since filmed heaps of tape; hopefully he gets a good editing program or his friends and family are in for a long evening at some point in the near future, hehe. After a few hours on the road, twisting and turning through the mountains we made it into Blenheim.

With a good afternoon to kill in Blenheim we went and did the Wairau Lagoon walk, recommended by Becky’s 202 Great Day Walks in New Zealand book. It was a nice little walk which lived up to its billing of “elegant flatness”, though I don’t believe the book mentioned the charming sewage treatment plant on either side of the park’s carpark. Still nice overall, though. After the walk we stopped by to see the guys at Renaissance, where Brian showed us his new flash bottling and labeling machines and insisted we take a box of beer along, which I agreed to only so that we could show Linda the beer we’ve been selling. Yeah, that’s the ticket, for Linda.

Andrew and Becky enjoy the elegant flatness at Wairau Lagoon

A few weeks ago when Becky was planning the itinerary she emailed Chris and Martin, the couple we Couchsurfed with in Blenheim in late June, and asked them if they’d like to get together for a coffee when we were in town. They replied by saying why didn’t we all just come to stay the night? Eager to show L&D the wonders of CSing, we took them up on the offer, and arrived late in the afternoon. In yet another gracious turn Chris prepared a proper Kiwi dinner for all of us with a lamb roast followed by pavlova for dessert. Just heavenly.

Chris puts the finishing touches on a delicious pavlova

A good part of the reason that we headed towards Blenheim with L&D so quickly was that they’d wanted to see a rugby match while they were in the country, and that Friday’s Tasman-Canterbury match in the Air New Zealand Cup series was the only one that really worked with the itinerary that Becky was working on. After our huge meal we headed to the match, and it was a real cracker. Since the teams are rival clubs (both feed the Crusaders, Chch’s professional team), Lansdowne Park was just about packed, and the local Makos (“Go the Makos!”) came out really firing against a much bigger and talented Canterbury side, even taking a lead into halftime. Unfortunately for the locals Canterbury exercised its muscle in the second half and took home an unconvincing win. Still, a great night for rugby, and we were glad to get to a provincial match out in the country, far from the glamour stadiums and more antiseptic atmosphere of the bigger cities. After another full day, we started the drive back to Chris and Martin’s, where everyone passed out nearly as soon as we were home. I foresee a busy 10 more days ahead.

Go The Makos!