With time running out for having free access to a car, I headed south to experience the Squeeze (http://www.riverjet.co.nz/Riverjet_Thermal_Safari/The_Squeeze_IDL=204_IDT=942_ID=14691_.html), something I had suggested to John that we do but he was too much of a wuss for. For those too lazy to follow the link, the Squeeze looked like a lot of fun when I first heard of it: take a genuine New Zealand jetboat (something I had never gotten to do) through Tutukau Gorge, then disembark and wade/climb through a narrow set of rock formations (hence the name, “Squeeze”) up a geothermally heated stream until you reach a secluded waterfall deep in the bush. Sounds great, right?
Well, the only thing that could make it better is being THE ONLY PERSON ON THE TOUR. I had booked ahead of time and made it down to a hut by the side of the road, kinda near Orekai Karako (astute readers will remember this location from angela’s visit), kinda not near anything else. I signed in and paid and realized as I got into my wetsuit that I was it. No one else was coming. I’m sure they lost money on fuel for the boat, only having one paying passenger, but I have to give New Zealand Riverjet credit, they didn’t cancel on me. I met my driver and we sauntered down to the mighty Waikato River. The twenty-five seats on the jetboat seemed like overkill. Admittedly, this was about a month from the dead of winter, so it’s not a huge surprise that this outing wasn’t well attended, but still. Regardless, I took the opportunity as I sat right next to the pilot to ask the question that any ten year old boy would want to ask: could I drive the boat?
I’m thrilled to say that the answer was, ultimately, yes. Now, for the majority of you who have never been on an authentic New Zealand river jet boat, let me break it down for you. These boats were invented in New Zealand for use in the rivers here. The boats have a very shallow draft; can go through areas with lots of vegetation without fouling, and can fucking move. It may feel like you are going faster than you actually are, but I don’t care. It feels awesome. For more on the history and particulars of jet boats, look here: http://www.alpinejet.co.nz/the-ride.html. Part of the fun of the boats is their ability to turn sharply and even spin 360 degrees with a flip of the wheel. I didn’t get to try that maneuver, but I did get to drive the boat for a good 5-10 minutes and got to make all sorts of sharp turns and passes close to sturdy elements of the environment (trees, boulders, etc.). I felt like a kid in a candy store and it was totally cool for the guy to let me drive.
The trip up the river to our put in point lasted a good while and the scenery was beautiful, even as the country descended into winter. Once we reached our point of entry, the guide tied up the boat and we set off up a small stream that feeds the Waikato. One thing you notice immediately is how the temperature of the water varies. The Waikato is pretty cold in that “I’m going to keep the water level at mid-thigh” kind of way, while the stream (unnamed, so far as I know) is geothermally heated, as are a number of waterways in this part of the country. I nearly lost my crocs to the muck and actually had to step back where I had just been to find them again. The water was about waist deep and we shortly reached the first narrow passage in the rocks. The series of squeezes and boulders to climb is the whole point of this excursion, and it was all as awesome as I was hoping for. It took probably 15 minutes of climbing and wading to get to the ultimate goal: a 12 foot heated waterfall at the end of the line (or at least as far as we were going on this day). The waterfall was really cool. There was about a 10’ diameter pool at the base, with steam rising from all sides, a canopy of tree ferns overhead and rays of sunshine knifing through. The pilot was duty bound to take pictures of the whole affair (most of the guided tours in New Zealand have the guides take pictures for a picture disk that they sell to the participants at the end. I kinda felt bad for the guy this time, so I felt compelled to buy the disk afterwards. But it was cool, because all the pictures were of me ;) ).
The whole experience was amazing. Making your way up the stream to the waterfall feels like wading back in time to a lost epoch. The greens and browns of the ferns and the moss on the rocks add to the experience. It would have been very romantic to have been there with someone other than, you know, the tour guide dude. But, no matter. Coming back out to the boat was a reluctant return to civilization. However, the sadness of leaving the coolness that was the waterfall was ameliorated by (the aforementioned) getting to drive the boat.
The day was not done after exiting the Squeeze. I headed out from the shack on the side of the road to nearby Taupo, home of the lava glass studio. I had been here before, to watch glassblowing and peruse the wares. The art glass created there is really cool and I decided that, expensive though it is, I’m not likely to pass this way again soon and I wanted to get something to help me remember my time here. I picked up a small blue glass vase that I particularly liked. After leaving the glass studio, I then made my way to Huka Prawn Park and Restaurant (http://www.hukaprawnpark.co.nz/). They have an area where you can go “fishing” for live prawns and they will prepare whatever you catch (which is apparently not as easy as it sounds, because the little bastards don’t hold onto the bait well). I got there a little late in the day to go fishing, so I decided just to sample the fare at the restaurant. I wasn’t disappointed. The food was really good, if a little overpriced. They do quite a business in prawns and know whereof they speak.
The ride home was bittersweet. On the one hand, I had had a great day out adventuring and got to see and do some amazing things. On the other, though, I knew that my time in country was rapidly coming to a close and this was going to be one of the last days of adventuring that I was going to get. I’m glad I had made a big day of it.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Monday, October 11, 2010
And the award for least PC masseuse goes to…
Sometimes, life is like a bad sitcom.
My friend Angela left on Monday to head out to Whakatane (ultimate destination: White Island the following day). She decided to take a detour through Rotorua, partly to take in some local flavor (sorry, flavour), but mostly to hit the Polynesian Spa. The spa is ranked as one of the ten best spas in the world by….some group who ranks such things. There is any number of options for thermal pools, mud baths, massages, etc. They take advantage of the local geology to deliver what was promised to be a completely relaxing/self-indulgent/decadent treatment to renew the body and spirit.
Now, before we continue, let me tell you a little about Angela. She is an academic, but lower down on the food chain, which basically means that she’s completely stressed and overworked all the time. Oh, and poor. This entire trip was a huge deal for her, since she’d basically not had a vacation in literally years before heading down under. However, regardless of the expense, she vowed that she’d treat herself to an afternoon at the spa so as to unwind.
I’ll also take this opportunity to remind our readers that Angela is, in fact, black. This information is important for what follows.
Anyway, at about 4-5 in the afternoon (after I knew she’d be done with the spa and in the car on her way to Whakatane) I called Angela to see how it went. Here is, to the best of my recollection, our conversation:
Angela: Hello?
Me: So, feel relaxed?
Angela: I CALL BULLSHIT ON THAT WHOLE THING!
Me: uh, beg pardon?
Angela: I don’t know if it was just coincidence or someone’s idea of a joke, but they gave me a white South African woman for my masseuse.
Me: (chuckling)
Angela: In less than five minutes, she managed to touch on two of my qualities that I’m self-conscious about: my looks and my weight.
Me: what did she say?
Angela: well, as I was there on the table in my towel, trying to relax, she said “wow, you’d be really desirable in Africa”.
Me: (nearly spits drink into phone)
Angela: Yeah, she’s like “oh, you’d be worth about 500 head of cattle with your figure”.
Apparently, the conversation didn’t improve from there. Angela registered her displeasure with the experience by not tipping. That'll show 'em!
Most of the rest of what she did that day (seeing the Rotorua Museum, which apparently is very nice, and going to the agrodome) really sort of pales in comparison.
Later that night, she made it in to Whakatane to stay at Lloyd’s lodge backpackers (it’s the place to be in Whakatane!). The next morning, though, the seas were so rough on the way out to White Island that they turned the boat around (always a possibility, so definitely try for good weather if you plan a trip there). It was pissing down rain that day, so even her detour to see Mount Maunganui (which I’d suggested as a place to go to salvage at least something out of her excursion) was a total bust. That night I tried to cheer her up with our watching “what became of the broken hearted”. From here, I can hear the laughter of those of you who know that movie.
Poor Angela. At least the rest of the trip sucked a lot less.
My friend Angela left on Monday to head out to Whakatane (ultimate destination: White Island the following day). She decided to take a detour through Rotorua, partly to take in some local flavor (sorry, flavour), but mostly to hit the Polynesian Spa. The spa is ranked as one of the ten best spas in the world by….some group who ranks such things. There is any number of options for thermal pools, mud baths, massages, etc. They take advantage of the local geology to deliver what was promised to be a completely relaxing/self-indulgent/decadent treatment to renew the body and spirit.
Now, before we continue, let me tell you a little about Angela. She is an academic, but lower down on the food chain, which basically means that she’s completely stressed and overworked all the time. Oh, and poor. This entire trip was a huge deal for her, since she’d basically not had a vacation in literally years before heading down under. However, regardless of the expense, she vowed that she’d treat herself to an afternoon at the spa so as to unwind.
I’ll also take this opportunity to remind our readers that Angela is, in fact, black. This information is important for what follows.
Anyway, at about 4-5 in the afternoon (after I knew she’d be done with the spa and in the car on her way to Whakatane) I called Angela to see how it went. Here is, to the best of my recollection, our conversation:
Angela: Hello?
Me: So, feel relaxed?
Angela: I CALL BULLSHIT ON THAT WHOLE THING!
Me: uh, beg pardon?
Angela: I don’t know if it was just coincidence or someone’s idea of a joke, but they gave me a white South African woman for my masseuse.
Me: (chuckling)
Angela: In less than five minutes, she managed to touch on two of my qualities that I’m self-conscious about: my looks and my weight.
Me: what did she say?
Angela: well, as I was there on the table in my towel, trying to relax, she said “wow, you’d be really desirable in Africa”.
Me: (nearly spits drink into phone)
Angela: Yeah, she’s like “oh, you’d be worth about 500 head of cattle with your figure”.
Apparently, the conversation didn’t improve from there. Angela registered her displeasure with the experience by not tipping. That'll show 'em!
Most of the rest of what she did that day (seeing the Rotorua Museum, which apparently is very nice, and going to the agrodome) really sort of pales in comparison.
Later that night, she made it in to Whakatane to stay at Lloyd’s lodge backpackers (it’s the place to be in Whakatane!). The next morning, though, the seas were so rough on the way out to White Island that they turned the boat around (always a possibility, so definitely try for good weather if you plan a trip there). It was pissing down rain that day, so even her detour to see Mount Maunganui (which I’d suggested as a place to go to salvage at least something out of her excursion) was a total bust. That night I tried to cheer her up with our watching “what became of the broken hearted”. From here, I can hear the laughter of those of you who know that movie.
Poor Angela. At least the rest of the trip sucked a lot less.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
angela's trip; orakei korako and whakarewarewa thermal village
after a full day of pasifika goodness the day before, we got up bright and early (using the ‘theme from shaft’ in place of reveille. daaaaaaamn right) to head out for a day of more kiwi-centric activities: orekai korako and the whakarewarewa thermal village.
orekai korako was first. for those who can’t be bothered to follow the link above, it’s a geothermal area down near lake taupo. what makes it special in comparison to a lot of other such areas is that it’s a lot more secluded and pristine (at least by feel) than places like hell’s gate, etc. when you arrive, you park, check in and go out to the dock to wait for a boat to take you across a beautiful lake to get to the area. aside from park benches and signs, there’s NO development on that side. it’s fantastic.
the day was perfect and sunny. we spent about two hours walking the tracks of the park, which we pretty much had to ourselves (there was no one to distract charon’s attention from us on our way over). one of the jewels of the park is the ruatapu cave (‘rua’ = hole, ‘tapu’ = sacred. huh huh), which has an enormous entrance framed with huge tree ferns and a long walkway leading down to a crystal clear geothermal pool at the bottom. other areas in the park are very colorful and the silica terraces at the beginning are thought to be the largest in the world since the pink and white terraces were buried in the eruption of mount tarawera in 1886. basically, despite the fact that it’s a little out of the way, if you’re going to see one geothermal area in new zealand, see this one. plus, they have this freaking huge weimeraner that’s, like, really friendly.
anyway, after bidding farewell to orakei korako, we headed north to rotorua to go to the whakarewarewa thermal village. this is (as is orakei korako, incidentally) on the kiwi 101 must do list. i had previously considered that i had done it because i have been mountain biking at the whakarewarewa forest and i figured how many different places could conceivably have the word ‘whakarewarewa’ in the name. well, at least two, it turns out.
the thermal village is, not surprisingly, completely different from the forest park. it’s a functioning maori village where people live and keep some of the old ways. aside from (and in conjunction with) the cultural aspects, by far the coolest thing about the place is that it’s sitting on a live geothermal field. this means that there is a ready supply of boiling water at all times. think about this. consider how life 500 years ago would have been different if you had that luxury. all the cooking in the village is done either in the boiling pools (simply take a mesh bag and throw in a mess of corn or a few pounds of meat) or in boxes that are put over steam vents to capture the steam (where you can put your dinner in at 9am and it’ll be fully cooked (and never overcooked) by that evening). by her own admission, the maori lady giving the tour told us that life in the village is “a little easy” because of all this. additionally, there are thermal baths set up where water is drained off from the boiling pools and cools a bit before making it to concrete bathing areas. it is encouraged and even expected that overnight visitors (yes, you can arrange to stay overnight) bathe communally with the people from the village.
the whole experience is really interesting. the first thing you need to know is that when you are greeted, you are made to feel that you are much more than a visitor. you are a friend. everything that you hear about is described in terms of “when you are here with us in the village you see…” or “when you are our friend here in the village you do…” and so forth. the entire village is their home and they are welcoming you into it. it’s not a museum or a relic. it’s a community that’s alive and active.
we learned about the village history, of course, and how the presence of the pools has shaped the life of the community. the boiling water and associated mud pools are said to have healing properties and the people in the village apparently rarely get sick. much of the old medicine is still practiced. but it’s not like colonial williamsburg, where no modern convieniences are to be found. the houses are pretty modern and everyone has cars and such, but it’s all meshed with some of the much more traditional ways as far as the culture is concerned.
as far as angela was concerned, all of this was great and everything (yeah yeah culture blah blah), but the primary reason for the visit was to eat some geothermally cooked corn. when you buy your tickets you decide if you want any food to be included, from a piece of corn on the cob up to a full hangi meal. we (well, she, really) opted just for the corn. and i have to say it was an outstanding choice. that was some damn good corn. we went back and bought more. we also went into the little village café and got some prepackaged hangi food (okay, but i’ve had better) for lunch, but the highlight was really the corn.
afterwards, we went shopping at the village gift shop and got a few cool things. i picked up a vase that is made from the trunk of a tree fern that i really like. when we were done, we left to head home. angela drove for the first time on the left, because she would be going off on her own the following day and needed to get used to it. she did great and we made it back to hamilton in one piece.
tomorrow: the least PC masseuse ever!
orekai korako was first. for those who can’t be bothered to follow the link above, it’s a geothermal area down near lake taupo. what makes it special in comparison to a lot of other such areas is that it’s a lot more secluded and pristine (at least by feel) than places like hell’s gate, etc. when you arrive, you park, check in and go out to the dock to wait for a boat to take you across a beautiful lake to get to the area. aside from park benches and signs, there’s NO development on that side. it’s fantastic.
the day was perfect and sunny. we spent about two hours walking the tracks of the park, which we pretty much had to ourselves (there was no one to distract charon’s attention from us on our way over). one of the jewels of the park is the ruatapu cave (‘rua’ = hole, ‘tapu’ = sacred. huh huh), which has an enormous entrance framed with huge tree ferns and a long walkway leading down to a crystal clear geothermal pool at the bottom. other areas in the park are very colorful and the silica terraces at the beginning are thought to be the largest in the world since the pink and white terraces were buried in the eruption of mount tarawera in 1886. basically, despite the fact that it’s a little out of the way, if you’re going to see one geothermal area in new zealand, see this one. plus, they have this freaking huge weimeraner that’s, like, really friendly.
anyway, after bidding farewell to orakei korako, we headed north to rotorua to go to the whakarewarewa thermal village. this is (as is orakei korako, incidentally) on the kiwi 101 must do list. i had previously considered that i had done it because i have been mountain biking at the whakarewarewa forest and i figured how many different places could conceivably have the word ‘whakarewarewa’ in the name. well, at least two, it turns out.
the thermal village is, not surprisingly, completely different from the forest park. it’s a functioning maori village where people live and keep some of the old ways. aside from (and in conjunction with) the cultural aspects, by far the coolest thing about the place is that it’s sitting on a live geothermal field. this means that there is a ready supply of boiling water at all times. think about this. consider how life 500 years ago would have been different if you had that luxury. all the cooking in the village is done either in the boiling pools (simply take a mesh bag and throw in a mess of corn or a few pounds of meat) or in boxes that are put over steam vents to capture the steam (where you can put your dinner in at 9am and it’ll be fully cooked (and never overcooked) by that evening). by her own admission, the maori lady giving the tour told us that life in the village is “a little easy” because of all this. additionally, there are thermal baths set up where water is drained off from the boiling pools and cools a bit before making it to concrete bathing areas. it is encouraged and even expected that overnight visitors (yes, you can arrange to stay overnight) bathe communally with the people from the village.
the whole experience is really interesting. the first thing you need to know is that when you are greeted, you are made to feel that you are much more than a visitor. you are a friend. everything that you hear about is described in terms of “when you are here with us in the village you see…” or “when you are our friend here in the village you do…” and so forth. the entire village is their home and they are welcoming you into it. it’s not a museum or a relic. it’s a community that’s alive and active.
we learned about the village history, of course, and how the presence of the pools has shaped the life of the community. the boiling water and associated mud pools are said to have healing properties and the people in the village apparently rarely get sick. much of the old medicine is still practiced. but it’s not like colonial williamsburg, where no modern convieniences are to be found. the houses are pretty modern and everyone has cars and such, but it’s all meshed with some of the much more traditional ways as far as the culture is concerned.
as far as angela was concerned, all of this was great and everything (yeah yeah culture blah blah), but the primary reason for the visit was to eat some geothermally cooked corn. when you buy your tickets you decide if you want any food to be included, from a piece of corn on the cob up to a full hangi meal. we (well, she, really) opted just for the corn. and i have to say it was an outstanding choice. that was some damn good corn. we went back and bought more. we also went into the little village café and got some prepackaged hangi food (okay, but i’ve had better) for lunch, but the highlight was really the corn.
afterwards, we went shopping at the village gift shop and got a few cool things. i picked up a vase that is made from the trunk of a tree fern that i really like. when we were done, we left to head home. angela drove for the first time on the left, because she would be going off on her own the following day and needed to get used to it. she did great and we made it back to hamilton in one piece.
tomorrow: the least PC masseuse ever!
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
head (and body) in the clouds
one of the problems with only having one earth year in a country full of cool places to see is that often, second tier attractions get put off in favor of more pressing matters. by the time you get to them, sometimes it's a suboptimal time to visit. case in point: my hike with alista fow up mount karioi.
when i first went surfing in raglan many moons ago, i got to take a drive along the coast with one of the other denizens of the raglan backpackers. on one side of the mountain road was the ocean and beautiful stretches of beach and on the other was mount karioi, an old volcanic cone with AMAZING views of the coastline. as i tried to picture just how it good it would be to see everything from the top, i promised myself that i'd get back up there to see for myself before i left the country.
well, june rolled around and my time left in the country was growing pretty short. most of the weekends had filled up so it was now or never for hiking up karioi. i made plans for that weekend to go with alista fow and when i went to go pick him up the morning of, it was.....pissing down rain. but that's okay, right? i mean, perhaps it would let up by the time we got out to raglan (those few of you familiar with the west coast of new zealand realize that my previous statement was fraught with (in the immortal words of ashley leeds) 'unbridled optimism'). but hey, we'd made the plans, so we may as well try. sure enough, we got out to where we would park (calling it a parking lot is a stretch. it was basically at a fence outside someone's farm) and it was still raining and the entire top of the mountain was covered in clouds. no matter. hiking in the rain still beats sitting around at home, so up we went.
the hike up was largely uneventful, save our being passed by a large number of off road motorcyclists out for a good time in the mud. you know your knobby tires are finding no purchase when the two hikers are consistently passing you, but hey, they seemed like they were having a good time. the rain and wind also meant that it wasn't hot as balls like it had been when alista and i went up to the pinnacles, so i wasn't hearing nearly as many muttered "bugger"'s as i had before.
it took us about two hours of slipping and sliding to get to the top where, sure enough, we couldn't see much more than about 50 yards in any direction (i'm writing this from back in the US now, so it's yards, dammit). the wind drowned out any sound of the ocean. but we had our lunch and explored the broadcast tower and the world's smallest (and therefore kinda most impressive) helicopter landing pad until it got to be too cold and windy (and if i got cold, you know it's really cold). we made it back down without a) breaking anything or b) re-creating that scene from 'romancing the stone' where they slide all the way down the mountain into the pool.
the view from the top really is supposed to be impressive, but i have a feeling that i'd need to be spending a good long time in the country again before i'd devote a day to that hike, since there are just so many other places to see.
when i first went surfing in raglan many moons ago, i got to take a drive along the coast with one of the other denizens of the raglan backpackers. on one side of the mountain road was the ocean and beautiful stretches of beach and on the other was mount karioi, an old volcanic cone with AMAZING views of the coastline. as i tried to picture just how it good it would be to see everything from the top, i promised myself that i'd get back up there to see for myself before i left the country.
well, june rolled around and my time left in the country was growing pretty short. most of the weekends had filled up so it was now or never for hiking up karioi. i made plans for that weekend to go with alista fow and when i went to go pick him up the morning of, it was.....pissing down rain. but that's okay, right? i mean, perhaps it would let up by the time we got out to raglan (those few of you familiar with the west coast of new zealand realize that my previous statement was fraught with (in the immortal words of ashley leeds) 'unbridled optimism'). but hey, we'd made the plans, so we may as well try. sure enough, we got out to where we would park (calling it a parking lot is a stretch. it was basically at a fence outside someone's farm) and it was still raining and the entire top of the mountain was covered in clouds. no matter. hiking in the rain still beats sitting around at home, so up we went.
the hike up was largely uneventful, save our being passed by a large number of off road motorcyclists out for a good time in the mud. you know your knobby tires are finding no purchase when the two hikers are consistently passing you, but hey, they seemed like they were having a good time. the rain and wind also meant that it wasn't hot as balls like it had been when alista and i went up to the pinnacles, so i wasn't hearing nearly as many muttered "bugger"'s as i had before.
it took us about two hours of slipping and sliding to get to the top where, sure enough, we couldn't see much more than about 50 yards in any direction (i'm writing this from back in the US now, so it's yards, dammit). the wind drowned out any sound of the ocean. but we had our lunch and explored the broadcast tower and the world's smallest (and therefore kinda most impressive) helicopter landing pad until it got to be too cold and windy (and if i got cold, you know it's really cold). we made it back down without a) breaking anything or b) re-creating that scene from 'romancing the stone' where they slide all the way down the mountain into the pool.
the view from the top really is supposed to be impressive, but i have a feeling that i'd need to be spending a good long time in the country again before i'd devote a day to that hike, since there are just so many other places to see.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
there and back again
well, the important news is that i made it back home. i haven't updated the blog recently, because all my free time towards the end of my year in NZ was spent packing, making arrangements and visiting with people that i won't see again, or at least not for a while. my plan for this blog is to post this update now, then go back and fill in all the missing pieces of the last few months so no one misses out on anything. the order of everything will be...vaguely coherent and sort of follow the actual chronology of how things wrapped up. hope you keep reading and keep enjoying.
the actual last day in new zealand kinda sucked, although this is not new zealand's fault. i'd gone to bed late the night before and my packing was just about done. all i'd need to do the next day was get up, finish putting the last few items away, go in for morning tea to say goodbye to everyone, figure out how i'd kill time and have lunch, then have jan kilmister (former next door neighbor; she and her husband mark are all around great folks who invited me to watch all blacks matches and have dinner with them a lot, plus they gave me this kick ass waikato chiefs jersey as a going away present) drive me to the airport in auckland in jamie and sally's (thanks jamie and sally!) minivan. no problem, right?
well, everything would have been okay if i'd been able to find my goddamn passport. the whole year i was in NZ, i kept my passport in my desk drawer so that i wouldn't lose it and the night before i left, i took it home. somewhere between work and home, it got lost. and i discovered this at 8:30am the day i was scheduled to leave at 7:30pm.
so after searching through some of the packed luggage and not finding it, i called the american consulate in auckland to find out what my options were (note for those who are about to ask why i didn't search all the luggage: i had 4 seventy pound bags that i intended to check in addition to my carry on luggage. it had taken me the better part of two days to pack all this and keep it under weight and packed in such a way that the luggage could be closed. plus, there were about a thousand (literally) brochures and other papers i was bringing back (research material, mostly) that it could have gotten stuck in. if i spent all the necessary time searching through the luggage and had NOT found it, there's no way i could have gotten everything done i would have needed and still made the flight). basically, i'd have to file a police report and get two passport photos made, then take those items, a current ID and a photocopy of my passport (which, thankfully, i did have) plus 100 USD to the consulate in auckland (waaaaay north in the city from where the airport is, mind you) to get a new passport.
so, without further ado, i got the police report, got the pictures, went to campus, said my goodbyes, ran back home, finished the packing, met up with jan, hopped into the car and tore off to auckland. we got to the consulate (23 customs house way in the citibank building, third floor, in case anyone ever needs to know), i filled out the necessary paperwork, paid my fee, and waited. and waited. and waited some more. i got my passport after about two hours and then went tearing back off south to the airport. i made it there by 5 for a 7:30 flight, so i was basically okay. the line was short but took forever anyway (there was a nice lady who handed me a little timestamped card for a 'let's see how long it takes people to make it through our line' survey they were doing (answer: too damn long)) but i got all four bags checked in (i got all three bags plus the rather large bike box on a single luggage cart, which was no small feat) and they didn't charge me nearly as much as i'd expected based on the fees i had previously been quoted, which was nice. i made it through security with no problem, headed for my gate, and then finally had breakfast.
the trip home was basically uneventful. for the SF leg, i had the middle of three seats (awesome!) and for the DC leg i had the window seat of the VERY BACK row (also awesome!). got to see 'eagle vs. shark' (NZ movie that stars jemaine from 'flight of the conchords' and is pretty funny), 'monsters vs. aliens' (very funny) and 'i love you, man' (could have been funnier), plus the first half of a 1997 all blacks vs. south africa match. at customs, they took my silver fern and pohutukawa seeds (another case of the Man keeping me down). ultimately, i arrived safely with nearly all my luggage (the bike box didn't make it until the next day) at about 1am in DC where stephanie picked me up at the airport (so i wouldn't have to face taking a cab with all my shit at that hour. THANK YOU), got home and crashed. finally.
the actual last day in new zealand kinda sucked, although this is not new zealand's fault. i'd gone to bed late the night before and my packing was just about done. all i'd need to do the next day was get up, finish putting the last few items away, go in for morning tea to say goodbye to everyone, figure out how i'd kill time and have lunch, then have jan kilmister (former next door neighbor; she and her husband mark are all around great folks who invited me to watch all blacks matches and have dinner with them a lot, plus they gave me this kick ass waikato chiefs jersey as a going away present) drive me to the airport in auckland in jamie and sally's (thanks jamie and sally!) minivan. no problem, right?
well, everything would have been okay if i'd been able to find my goddamn passport. the whole year i was in NZ, i kept my passport in my desk drawer so that i wouldn't lose it and the night before i left, i took it home. somewhere between work and home, it got lost. and i discovered this at 8:30am the day i was scheduled to leave at 7:30pm.
so after searching through some of the packed luggage and not finding it, i called the american consulate in auckland to find out what my options were (note for those who are about to ask why i didn't search all the luggage: i had 4 seventy pound bags that i intended to check in addition to my carry on luggage. it had taken me the better part of two days to pack all this and keep it under weight and packed in such a way that the luggage could be closed. plus, there were about a thousand (literally) brochures and other papers i was bringing back (research material, mostly) that it could have gotten stuck in. if i spent all the necessary time searching through the luggage and had NOT found it, there's no way i could have gotten everything done i would have needed and still made the flight). basically, i'd have to file a police report and get two passport photos made, then take those items, a current ID and a photocopy of my passport (which, thankfully, i did have) plus 100 USD to the consulate in auckland (waaaaay north in the city from where the airport is, mind you) to get a new passport.
so, without further ado, i got the police report, got the pictures, went to campus, said my goodbyes, ran back home, finished the packing, met up with jan, hopped into the car and tore off to auckland. we got to the consulate (23 customs house way in the citibank building, third floor, in case anyone ever needs to know), i filled out the necessary paperwork, paid my fee, and waited. and waited. and waited some more. i got my passport after about two hours and then went tearing back off south to the airport. i made it there by 5 for a 7:30 flight, so i was basically okay. the line was short but took forever anyway (there was a nice lady who handed me a little timestamped card for a 'let's see how long it takes people to make it through our line' survey they were doing (answer: too damn long)) but i got all four bags checked in (i got all three bags plus the rather large bike box on a single luggage cart, which was no small feat) and they didn't charge me nearly as much as i'd expected based on the fees i had previously been quoted, which was nice. i made it through security with no problem, headed for my gate, and then finally had breakfast.
the trip home was basically uneventful. for the SF leg, i had the middle of three seats (awesome!) and for the DC leg i had the window seat of the VERY BACK row (also awesome!). got to see 'eagle vs. shark' (NZ movie that stars jemaine from 'flight of the conchords' and is pretty funny), 'monsters vs. aliens' (very funny) and 'i love you, man' (could have been funnier), plus the first half of a 1997 all blacks vs. south africa match. at customs, they took my silver fern and pohutukawa seeds (another case of the Man keeping me down). ultimately, i arrived safely with nearly all my luggage (the bike box didn't make it until the next day) at about 1am in DC where stephanie picked me up at the airport (so i wouldn't have to face taking a cab with all my shit at that hour. THANK YOU), got home and crashed. finally.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
chumming with vomit
new zealand is an island nation. just thought i'd throw that out there in case anyone had missed that little fact.
the reason i bring this up is that, as an island nation, they are big into fishing. since i'm big into experiencing the real new zealand, i had been bugging co-worker greg (he of the cattle auction extravaganza and a self-proclaimed fisherman) to go fishing with me for months. finally, several weeks ago, he relented.
and so it was that bright and early on a saturday in early may, greg and i hopped in the car and headed out to tauranga for a day of charter boat fishing (a new experience for me). now, the last time i'd gone fishing was probably with eric smith from scouts when i was 15. it involved a placid lake and a small aluminum boat with a trolling motor and a car battery to make it go.
our charter experience was a far far cry from that. we climbed aboard the 'chundering american' and headed out to sea through some sizable swells. i started off at the bow, riding the huge waves and basically was okay until i went back to the stern. it took about 45 minutes to an hour to get to our first fishing spot and we had been stopped for no longer than 2 minutes before i lost my entire breakfast over the side.
it was bad. really bad. i'd never gotten seasick before, although i've gotten motion sick on a helicopter and on those VR amusement park rides where the whole room moves. and i learned something about seasickness: it doesn't go away real fast. certainly not at all while you're still on the boat. the absolute worst was when you go to the bathroom that has no windows, so you can't even use the horizon as a stable focal point. unlike lonely island, i was not was not heartily proclaiming to the world, with t-pain singing back up, that i was on a boat. and i was certainly in no shape to fuck a mermaid.
but i'd paid for all this, dammit, so i was going to try to make the most of it. and i have to say, the charter company is really good. the captain had one of those fish finders and it really did work. basically, every time i threw the line in, i would catch something very quickly. it was just a matter of whether or not the fish i caught were large enough to keep. i spent WELL less than 1/4 of the available fishing time actually fishing (the rest of the time i spent trying not to throw up again and adding/removing clothing in a losing effort to regulate body temperature) and still caught 2 red snapper and 2 trevallys big enough to keep, plus about 8 other smaller snapper that weren't.
one of the stranger looking things that people were catching were john dory's, with huge mouths and lots of spines. the way you catch them was to bait the hook with a small live red snapper and use it to catch the john dory. things from the deep can be disturbing.
if you're not prone to seasickness, it's a great day. not terribly much money for 9-10 hours of charter boat fishing, although you need to bring your own lunch (not that THAT was an issue). the captain moved around a lot to make sure you always had a good chance to catch something and nearly every time you threw a line in, something would bite. i'd love to try it out again some time.
i'll just make sure to wear a band of dramamine patches around my bicep like a celtic tattoo.
the reason i bring this up is that, as an island nation, they are big into fishing. since i'm big into experiencing the real new zealand, i had been bugging co-worker greg (he of the cattle auction extravaganza and a self-proclaimed fisherman) to go fishing with me for months. finally, several weeks ago, he relented.
and so it was that bright and early on a saturday in early may, greg and i hopped in the car and headed out to tauranga for a day of charter boat fishing (a new experience for me). now, the last time i'd gone fishing was probably with eric smith from scouts when i was 15. it involved a placid lake and a small aluminum boat with a trolling motor and a car battery to make it go.
our charter experience was a far far cry from that. we climbed aboard the 'chundering american' and headed out to sea through some sizable swells. i started off at the bow, riding the huge waves and basically was okay until i went back to the stern. it took about 45 minutes to an hour to get to our first fishing spot and we had been stopped for no longer than 2 minutes before i lost my entire breakfast over the side.
it was bad. really bad. i'd never gotten seasick before, although i've gotten motion sick on a helicopter and on those VR amusement park rides where the whole room moves. and i learned something about seasickness: it doesn't go away real fast. certainly not at all while you're still on the boat. the absolute worst was when you go to the bathroom that has no windows, so you can't even use the horizon as a stable focal point. unlike lonely island, i was not was not heartily proclaiming to the world, with t-pain singing back up, that i was on a boat. and i was certainly in no shape to fuck a mermaid.
but i'd paid for all this, dammit, so i was going to try to make the most of it. and i have to say, the charter company is really good. the captain had one of those fish finders and it really did work. basically, every time i threw the line in, i would catch something very quickly. it was just a matter of whether or not the fish i caught were large enough to keep. i spent WELL less than 1/4 of the available fishing time actually fishing (the rest of the time i spent trying not to throw up again and adding/removing clothing in a losing effort to regulate body temperature) and still caught 2 red snapper and 2 trevallys big enough to keep, plus about 8 other smaller snapper that weren't.
one of the stranger looking things that people were catching were john dory's, with huge mouths and lots of spines. the way you catch them was to bait the hook with a small live red snapper and use it to catch the john dory. things from the deep can be disturbing.
if you're not prone to seasickness, it's a great day. not terribly much money for 9-10 hours of charter boat fishing, although you need to bring your own lunch (not that THAT was an issue). the captain moved around a lot to make sure you always had a good chance to catch something and nearly every time you threw a line in, something would bite. i'd love to try it out again some time.
i'll just make sure to wear a band of dramamine patches around my bicep like a celtic tattoo.
her majesty's a pretty nice girl (thoughts on being a royalist for a day)
so we had a national holiday this past monday in new zealand for the queen's birthday. i'll give everyone a moment to let the chortling subside.
now, i had been waiting rather impatiently for the queen's birthday to roll around since last july 4th, when mike asked me "so what are you doing today? oh, that's right, you're WORKING." i figured i would finally get karmic retribution. and i would have, had the US not just had a day off the previous week for memorial day. and i couldn't even cancel THAT out in the arms race of holidays with ANZAC day because it fell on a saturday and we didn't get a day off for it this year. but i digress.
anyway, as any good colonial knows, the queen was not actually born on june 1 (this particular queen was born on april 21), but nevertheless the date has been designated as the queen's official birthday. or at least here in NZ. in other commonwealth countries, they have it on other dates.
now, i was all about the day off. but i'm also all about the local experience, so i asked around to find out what cool awesome queen's birthday events and so forth were going on. high teas? corgi tossing? anything?
as it turns out, it was pretty much just sales. kinda like president's day, but with the actual day off. harvey norman's (sorta like circuit city) had their annual queen's birthday sale ("THAT'S 30 MONTHS INTEREST FREE! ROYAL SAVINGS STORE WIDE! DEALS FIT FOR A MONARCH!!") as did a few other stores, but basically, that was it other than the queen's birthday honors. and for the record, no, i was not making up the quotes from the harvey norman's ad.
the queen's birthday honors, though, are pretty significant. they consist of all the royal honors given out each year, from knighthoods on down. a complete list of the 2009 NZ recipients can be found here. basically, it's a very long list of people who have served the greater good to varying degrees. commendations are given for "service to the arts", "services to sport", "services to the community", "services to maori", etc. among other notables were one knight and two dame companions of the order, an honor of which i'm still unsure of the meaning. but it's a big deal. the knight companion honor was given to john george walker, a middle distance runner from the montreal olympics who broke the 3:50 minute mark for a mile (although when i looked him up on wikipedia, the only entry i got was "john george walker (july 22, 1821 – july 20, 1893) was a confederate general in the american civil war...." and figured that either i had the wrong john george walker or the queen has a bizarre sense of humor. or humour, even). the new dames (insert quotes from 'south pacific' here) are jennifer barbara gibbs and iritana te rangi tawiwhirangi, for services to the arts and maori education respectively, but i couldn't find anything more specific about what those services were. and, sadly, "nothing connotes service to maori education like a dame" just doesn't roll off the tongue.
so that was about it. i enjoyed my queen's birthday holiday, but it's not like i did much to honor her sovereignty or anything.
regardless, some day i'm gonna make her mine, oh yeah.
some day i'm gonna make her mine.
now, i had been waiting rather impatiently for the queen's birthday to roll around since last july 4th, when mike asked me "so what are you doing today? oh, that's right, you're WORKING." i figured i would finally get karmic retribution. and i would have, had the US not just had a day off the previous week for memorial day. and i couldn't even cancel THAT out in the arms race of holidays with ANZAC day because it fell on a saturday and we didn't get a day off for it this year. but i digress.
anyway, as any good colonial knows, the queen was not actually born on june 1 (this particular queen was born on april 21), but nevertheless the date has been designated as the queen's official birthday. or at least here in NZ. in other commonwealth countries, they have it on other dates.
now, i was all about the day off. but i'm also all about the local experience, so i asked around to find out what cool awesome queen's birthday events and so forth were going on. high teas? corgi tossing? anything?
as it turns out, it was pretty much just sales. kinda like president's day, but with the actual day off. harvey norman's (sorta like circuit city) had their annual queen's birthday sale ("THAT'S 30 MONTHS INTEREST FREE! ROYAL SAVINGS STORE WIDE! DEALS FIT FOR A MONARCH!!") as did a few other stores, but basically, that was it other than the queen's birthday honors. and for the record, no, i was not making up the quotes from the harvey norman's ad.
the queen's birthday honors, though, are pretty significant. they consist of all the royal honors given out each year, from knighthoods on down. a complete list of the 2009 NZ recipients can be found here. basically, it's a very long list of people who have served the greater good to varying degrees. commendations are given for "service to the arts", "services to sport", "services to the community", "services to maori", etc. among other notables were one knight and two dame companions of the order, an honor of which i'm still unsure of the meaning. but it's a big deal. the knight companion honor was given to john george walker, a middle distance runner from the montreal olympics who broke the 3:50 minute mark for a mile (although when i looked him up on wikipedia, the only entry i got was "john george walker (july 22, 1821 – july 20, 1893) was a confederate general in the american civil war...." and figured that either i had the wrong john george walker or the queen has a bizarre sense of humor. or humour, even). the new dames (insert quotes from 'south pacific' here) are jennifer barbara gibbs and iritana te rangi tawiwhirangi, for services to the arts and maori education respectively, but i couldn't find anything more specific about what those services were. and, sadly, "nothing connotes service to maori education like a dame" just doesn't roll off the tongue.
so that was about it. i enjoyed my queen's birthday holiday, but it's not like i did much to honor her sovereignty or anything.
regardless, some day i'm gonna make her mine, oh yeah.
some day i'm gonna make her mine.
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