recently, several of you were told (with much merriment) about a recipe found in a new zealand grocery store for "spaghetti and baked bean pie". it turns out, on closer inspection of the recipe card, that it actually contains two recipes: one for spaghetti pie and one for baked bean pie. we apologize for any confusion our previous claim may have caused.
--sincerely, the management
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
he's a hard dog, he's a workin' dog, he's a hard workin' dog
okay, folks, you’re going to have to bear with me, as this post will be a little longer than most. the reason is that blog entry length correlates positively with awesomeness, and several weekends ago, i went to the sheep dog trials out in cambridge. it’s hard to get more awesomer than that.
trialing in new zealand isn’t quite as much in the mind of the public as it used to be. there was apparently an old show called ‘country calendar’ in prime time on weekends that featured all things farming, including sheep dog trials. it featured a man named john gordon who would ‘call the game’ and was apparently so good at it he’d have you on the edge of your seat. for sheep dogs. i tried like hell to find some old video of this, but was unsuccessful. there was nothing for it but to see it all for myself.
i met up with fellow waikato university employee and all around great guy ian honey early on a saturday morning and we headed for the hills. literally. the sheep dog trial qualified in more than one way as a redneck activity, not least because directions to its location included the phrase “turn off the paved road”. i’m glad ian knew where he was going, because i sure as hell didn’t. anyway, about half an hour outside of cambridge in the seeming middle of nowhere, we found a group of vehicles of which the overwhelming majority suspiciously carried multiple dog crates. we piled out of the car to investigate.
now, for those of you out there who have never attended a sheep dog trial (which i’m assuming is, well, all of you), let me break it down for you: each competitor can enter as many dogs as he likes in each of several different events: the short head, the long head and the huntaway (each described below). each event features the dog herding three sheep and is judged on time and points. each competitor starts with max points and loses some for infractions. don’t ask what would constitute an infraction, because i couldn’t tell (other than the obvious “the sheep went out of bounds” or “the dog is taking too long”). for the weekend’s trial, there are no ‘playoffs’ of any kind. after all competitors get their chance, the dog with the highest score wins. the top five finishers get points (5 for first place on down to 1 for fifth place) towards a spot in the national championships. five points gets you in to the national championships, so if you win one event, you’re in, or you can collect points from several different sheep dog trials. got all that? good.
the first event we watched was the short head. in this event, the dog and sheep dude start off at the bottom of a pretty big hill, with the sheep at the top of the hill (a few hundred yards off). when time begins, the man sends the dog up the hill, giving commands (using either a shepherd’s whistle or by yelling things like “LEFT, YA DAFT BUGGER!”) to guide the dog all the way to the top of the hill above the sheep. the dog then settles down and waits for the sheep to get calm (sheep are very skittish in each of these events and skittish sheep are highly unpredictable. more on that later). upon command, the dog then slowly comes towards the sheep and gets them to move downhill toward the shepherd. he’ll go side to side to make sure the sheep take a straight line down the hill (the straighter the better, points-wise). once they all reach the bottom, the guy has to get the dog to lead the sheep through a large U-shaped course that includes a gate and then ultimately into a pen (the man is able to use his body to get the sheep to go where he wants, but once he touches the gate to open the pen, he can’t let go of it until the sheep are in). this whole section is where things tended to go pear shaped for our furry (but not wooly) heroes. at least half of the teams that i watched washed out and never got the sheep into the pen. adding to the difficulty is the fact that the holding area for sheep that were finished was about 100 yards beyond said pen (as in, WAY outside the course) and some sheep took off to rejoin their brethren once they saw them. regardless, a number of teams were successful into getting the sheep into the pen. success, when achieved, usually took a little over ten minutes.
after watching several of the short head events, ian and i walked over to the next large hill for the huntaway. totally different event with a totally different type of dog. whereas the heading events use the traditional black and white (but not necessarily border collies, though these looked similar) dogs that silently stare down the sheep (giving them ‘the eye’), huntaways look like overgrown bloodhounds that CONSTANTLY BARK THEIR GODDAMN FOOL HEADS OFF. christ, they never shut up. anyway, the event runs as follows: the man, the dog and the three sheep all start off at the bottom of a large hill. the man directs the dog to maneuver the sheep up the hill through a series of three gates. sort of like a reverse slalom. the man isn’t allowed to move. once they begin, the dog starts barking at the sheep to get them up the hill, which, i was led to understand, is something they don’t like (going uphill, that is). the event ends when the sheep are successfully through the gates to the top and is much shorter (usually about 2-3 minutes) than the short head when it all goes well, as it did for the first contestant that we watched.
not so much for the other ones. after the first guy got it and made it look pretty easy, i figured “well, hell, this one must be a piece of cake”. wrong. the next FIVE entries all failed. usually, failure would entail the sheep deciding to bolt halfway through the trial around the side of the hill, never to be seen again by man or beast. some contestants suffered the further indignity of having their dog chase after the sheep and thus having to go walk over the hill (remember, we’re not talking, like, grassy knoll here. this is a small mountain) to go find his dog who, of course, is no longer paying attention to him. i have to say that this was far more amusing to the spectators than the competitors.
a strange thing i noticed is that the guys (and they were exclusively men; more on this later) that were doing the huntaways were mostly younger (many younger than i am) whereas in the heading events it was all retirees. not sure what to make of that.
anyway, the last event of the day we watched was the long head. this consists of the sheep once again being at the top of a HUGE hill (like, half a mile away, easily) and the shepherd (who can’t move out of the circle at the bottom) sending the dog up to the top to get them. the dog then brings them down to an area near the shepherd (no gates or courses or anything). in principle, it sounds easier than the short head, but trust me, we saw ONE GUY do this one successfully and it took him about 15 minutes to do it. and more on him later.
the difficulties are many. first, the dog can’t see where the sheep are for the majority of the time that he is running up to get to them, so he has to be well trained to follow directions. also, there are many times when you lose track of the dog. this isn’t so much a problem when he’s tearing off at breakneck speed up the hill, because he’ll come out from whatever little gully he found pretty fast. but on the way back down with the sheep, when it’s all much slower, the dog and sheep may get lost and move around where you can’t see them. on one of the trials, the judge actually asked the guy “excuse me sir, but do you know where your dog is?”. he said no. those of us in the peanut gallery were tittering like the french soldiers in monty python when john cleese tells king arthur that they already have a holy grail. another guy had to go after his dog who, as it turns out, had decided to take a bath in one of the streams he had to cross. it was a difficult event and, i’m sure, very frustrating.
nearly every part of sheep dog trials comes from real needs of real farmers herding real sheep on real farms. the huntaway comes from the fact that sheep love going downhill and hate going uphill and you don’t want to have to go down into a gully to get them out. the long head comes from when you’d want to have a sheep for dinner, so you’d send the dog out to get you one and then stare him down so you can come up behind him. the impetus for the short head is obvious. the point is, all these guys competing are working farmers and these dogs are all working dogs.
as you’ve probably already guessed, i was COMPLETELY fascinated by this. i met a very nice older couple, barbara and ian, who explained a lot of this to me (ian is a competitor and barbara, well, barbara i’m guessing has spent a significant portion of her life at these trials. bless her heart). as i stated above, it was all men on that day, but barbara assured me that there are women who compete. perhaps the paucity of female competitors is linked to women’s diminished ability to swear like sailors at the animals (i keed! i keed! but mostly i keed in that swearing is actually not allowed in the competitions. ian mused that perhaps that’s why some dogs don’t do as well; they aren’t receiving instructions in the manner they’re used to). ian (the other ian, not the guy i work with) took part in both heading events and, even though i was pulling for him, it was not his day.
the man whose day it was, however, was hamish richmond (don’t be too concerned if you’ve never heard of him). he is a past president of the new zealand sheep dog trials association and is (if such a thing exists) a fucking sheep dog trialing badass. yeah, i said it. he’s the michael jordan, the joe dimaggio, the…the…TIM TEBOW of sheep dog trials (take that, tonster!). he’s the only guy i saw finish the long head and he had more than one dog finish the short head. didn’t see him do the huntaway, but i’m sure he would have rocked that, too.
the sheep dog trials were awesome and i had an absolute blast. we were there for at least four hours and the time flew by. which brings me to,perhaps, the point of the day: every day, and certainly every weekend, there are all kinds of activities and events going on in this world that you have no clue about. fans and aficionados of these activities gather in places you’ve never been to watch, discuss and compete. they practice all the time to get better at something you’ve never tried or even heard of. and that, my friends, is one of the things that makes this world so very very interesting.
trialing in new zealand isn’t quite as much in the mind of the public as it used to be. there was apparently an old show called ‘country calendar’ in prime time on weekends that featured all things farming, including sheep dog trials. it featured a man named john gordon who would ‘call the game’ and was apparently so good at it he’d have you on the edge of your seat. for sheep dogs. i tried like hell to find some old video of this, but was unsuccessful. there was nothing for it but to see it all for myself.
i met up with fellow waikato university employee and all around great guy ian honey early on a saturday morning and we headed for the hills. literally. the sheep dog trial qualified in more than one way as a redneck activity, not least because directions to its location included the phrase “turn off the paved road”. i’m glad ian knew where he was going, because i sure as hell didn’t. anyway, about half an hour outside of cambridge in the seeming middle of nowhere, we found a group of vehicles of which the overwhelming majority suspiciously carried multiple dog crates. we piled out of the car to investigate.
now, for those of you out there who have never attended a sheep dog trial (which i’m assuming is, well, all of you), let me break it down for you: each competitor can enter as many dogs as he likes in each of several different events: the short head, the long head and the huntaway (each described below). each event features the dog herding three sheep and is judged on time and points. each competitor starts with max points and loses some for infractions. don’t ask what would constitute an infraction, because i couldn’t tell (other than the obvious “the sheep went out of bounds” or “the dog is taking too long”). for the weekend’s trial, there are no ‘playoffs’ of any kind. after all competitors get their chance, the dog with the highest score wins. the top five finishers get points (5 for first place on down to 1 for fifth place) towards a spot in the national championships. five points gets you in to the national championships, so if you win one event, you’re in, or you can collect points from several different sheep dog trials. got all that? good.
the first event we watched was the short head. in this event, the dog and sheep dude start off at the bottom of a pretty big hill, with the sheep at the top of the hill (a few hundred yards off). when time begins, the man sends the dog up the hill, giving commands (using either a shepherd’s whistle or by yelling things like “LEFT, YA DAFT BUGGER!”) to guide the dog all the way to the top of the hill above the sheep. the dog then settles down and waits for the sheep to get calm (sheep are very skittish in each of these events and skittish sheep are highly unpredictable. more on that later). upon command, the dog then slowly comes towards the sheep and gets them to move downhill toward the shepherd. he’ll go side to side to make sure the sheep take a straight line down the hill (the straighter the better, points-wise). once they all reach the bottom, the guy has to get the dog to lead the sheep through a large U-shaped course that includes a gate and then ultimately into a pen (the man is able to use his body to get the sheep to go where he wants, but once he touches the gate to open the pen, he can’t let go of it until the sheep are in). this whole section is where things tended to go pear shaped for our furry (but not wooly) heroes. at least half of the teams that i watched washed out and never got the sheep into the pen. adding to the difficulty is the fact that the holding area for sheep that were finished was about 100 yards beyond said pen (as in, WAY outside the course) and some sheep took off to rejoin their brethren once they saw them. regardless, a number of teams were successful into getting the sheep into the pen. success, when achieved, usually took a little over ten minutes.
after watching several of the short head events, ian and i walked over to the next large hill for the huntaway. totally different event with a totally different type of dog. whereas the heading events use the traditional black and white (but not necessarily border collies, though these looked similar) dogs that silently stare down the sheep (giving them ‘the eye’), huntaways look like overgrown bloodhounds that CONSTANTLY BARK THEIR GODDAMN FOOL HEADS OFF. christ, they never shut up. anyway, the event runs as follows: the man, the dog and the three sheep all start off at the bottom of a large hill. the man directs the dog to maneuver the sheep up the hill through a series of three gates. sort of like a reverse slalom. the man isn’t allowed to move. once they begin, the dog starts barking at the sheep to get them up the hill, which, i was led to understand, is something they don’t like (going uphill, that is). the event ends when the sheep are successfully through the gates to the top and is much shorter (usually about 2-3 minutes) than the short head when it all goes well, as it did for the first contestant that we watched.
not so much for the other ones. after the first guy got it and made it look pretty easy, i figured “well, hell, this one must be a piece of cake”. wrong. the next FIVE entries all failed. usually, failure would entail the sheep deciding to bolt halfway through the trial around the side of the hill, never to be seen again by man or beast. some contestants suffered the further indignity of having their dog chase after the sheep and thus having to go walk over the hill (remember, we’re not talking, like, grassy knoll here. this is a small mountain) to go find his dog who, of course, is no longer paying attention to him. i have to say that this was far more amusing to the spectators than the competitors.
a strange thing i noticed is that the guys (and they were exclusively men; more on this later) that were doing the huntaways were mostly younger (many younger than i am) whereas in the heading events it was all retirees. not sure what to make of that.
anyway, the last event of the day we watched was the long head. this consists of the sheep once again being at the top of a HUGE hill (like, half a mile away, easily) and the shepherd (who can’t move out of the circle at the bottom) sending the dog up to the top to get them. the dog then brings them down to an area near the shepherd (no gates or courses or anything). in principle, it sounds easier than the short head, but trust me, we saw ONE GUY do this one successfully and it took him about 15 minutes to do it. and more on him later.
the difficulties are many. first, the dog can’t see where the sheep are for the majority of the time that he is running up to get to them, so he has to be well trained to follow directions. also, there are many times when you lose track of the dog. this isn’t so much a problem when he’s tearing off at breakneck speed up the hill, because he’ll come out from whatever little gully he found pretty fast. but on the way back down with the sheep, when it’s all much slower, the dog and sheep may get lost and move around where you can’t see them. on one of the trials, the judge actually asked the guy “excuse me sir, but do you know where your dog is?”. he said no. those of us in the peanut gallery were tittering like the french soldiers in monty python when john cleese tells king arthur that they already have a holy grail. another guy had to go after his dog who, as it turns out, had decided to take a bath in one of the streams he had to cross. it was a difficult event and, i’m sure, very frustrating.
nearly every part of sheep dog trials comes from real needs of real farmers herding real sheep on real farms. the huntaway comes from the fact that sheep love going downhill and hate going uphill and you don’t want to have to go down into a gully to get them out. the long head comes from when you’d want to have a sheep for dinner, so you’d send the dog out to get you one and then stare him down so you can come up behind him. the impetus for the short head is obvious. the point is, all these guys competing are working farmers and these dogs are all working dogs.
as you’ve probably already guessed, i was COMPLETELY fascinated by this. i met a very nice older couple, barbara and ian, who explained a lot of this to me (ian is a competitor and barbara, well, barbara i’m guessing has spent a significant portion of her life at these trials. bless her heart). as i stated above, it was all men on that day, but barbara assured me that there are women who compete. perhaps the paucity of female competitors is linked to women’s diminished ability to swear like sailors at the animals (i keed! i keed! but mostly i keed in that swearing is actually not allowed in the competitions. ian mused that perhaps that’s why some dogs don’t do as well; they aren’t receiving instructions in the manner they’re used to). ian (the other ian, not the guy i work with) took part in both heading events and, even though i was pulling for him, it was not his day.
the man whose day it was, however, was hamish richmond (don’t be too concerned if you’ve never heard of him). he is a past president of the new zealand sheep dog trials association and is (if such a thing exists) a fucking sheep dog trialing badass. yeah, i said it. he’s the michael jordan, the joe dimaggio, the…the…TIM TEBOW of sheep dog trials (take that, tonster!). he’s the only guy i saw finish the long head and he had more than one dog finish the short head. didn’t see him do the huntaway, but i’m sure he would have rocked that, too.
the sheep dog trials were awesome and i had an absolute blast. we were there for at least four hours and the time flew by. which brings me to,perhaps, the point of the day: every day, and certainly every weekend, there are all kinds of activities and events going on in this world that you have no clue about. fans and aficionados of these activities gather in places you’ve never been to watch, discuss and compete. they practice all the time to get better at something you’ve never tried or even heard of. and that, my friends, is one of the things that makes this world so very very interesting.
Monday, April 27, 2009
angela thrasher's trip: arrival and pasifika festival
on march 14th my old william and mary buddy angela thrasher arrived. i hadn't actually seen her in person in about 16 years. so when a black girl came out of biosecurity that had sorta the right height and hair, i was cautious in my approach. turns out that my caution was justified, as angela was the OTHER black girl to come out of biosecurity a little later (as an aside, she counted the number of black people she saw in this country while she was here. she hit double digits the day before she left). anyway, we reconnected just fine and headed off to breakfast in auckland and a stroll through albert park before the major event of the day, the pasifika festival.
pasifika is the largest pacific islander themed festival in the world (held annually in auckland, which is the largest polynesian city in the world). it celebrates the food, culture and music of (full points if you have heard of all of these countries already; bonus points if you can give their locations more specifically than "uh, somewhere in the pacific..."; YOU ARE INELIGIBLE IF YOUR NAME IS PETER SURSI) tokelau, the maori, fiji, samoa, tuvalu, niue, the cook islands, tonga, tahiti and kiribati. each nation had a set of tents selling food and...[insert local islander word for] 'tchochkes', and a stage with cultural performances. each area was staffed with locals wearing all manner of very colorful traditional dress (note: do NOT ask the 400 pound samoan dude in the lava-lava about his 'skirt').
angela and i decided early on that we'd experience the world's cultures primarily through their food. as we walked around, we ate anything that looked good. and lots of it did. mussel fritters with sweet chili sauce, fry bread, a sorta lovo style fijian dish with meat and palusami...it was all good. lots of booths also sold ice cream in watermelon bowls, but angela refused to have one because doing so would perpetuate the stereotype.
the cultural performances were really good, too. there were a number of kapa haka groups at the maori complex, which we watched because angela had never seen one before. several of the groups were school aged kids, which was cool to see. there were individual recording artists from around the pacific performing at the venues of their country of origin. but what i liked most of all were the older kids and adults doing the traditional dances. one thing you realize very quickly in watching these is just how different the maori are from other pacific islanders. the maori have no drums in their songs, for one thing. any percussion comes from stomping and beating on their chests. but a number of islander dances are accompanied by incredibly fast drums and the full on hula skirt/hippy hippy shake kinds of dances that make westerners gawk.
we took a quick break at lunchtime to take in some of the rugby that accompanied the festival. then it was on to more souvenir stalls. then it was on to more food. how many variations on taro root are there in world cuisine, you ask? well, plenty. when it was all said and done, we made our way back to the car and headed down to hamilton, discussing the day's sights and sounds all the way.
what made it all really cool was just how foreign and different everything was. i can totally see a nearly exact copy of this kind of festival taking place in miami, with all the caribbean nations featured. but because of where i currently am in the world, i get a peek into a whole group of cultures about which i knew almost nothing previously. and now, of course, i have to go visit them in person.
pasifika is the largest pacific islander themed festival in the world (held annually in auckland, which is the largest polynesian city in the world). it celebrates the food, culture and music of (full points if you have heard of all of these countries already; bonus points if you can give their locations more specifically than "uh, somewhere in the pacific..."; YOU ARE INELIGIBLE IF YOUR NAME IS PETER SURSI) tokelau, the maori, fiji, samoa, tuvalu, niue, the cook islands, tonga, tahiti and kiribati. each nation had a set of tents selling food and...[insert local islander word for] 'tchochkes', and a stage with cultural performances. each area was staffed with locals wearing all manner of very colorful traditional dress (note: do NOT ask the 400 pound samoan dude in the lava-lava about his 'skirt').
angela and i decided early on that we'd experience the world's cultures primarily through their food. as we walked around, we ate anything that looked good. and lots of it did. mussel fritters with sweet chili sauce, fry bread, a sorta lovo style fijian dish with meat and palusami...it was all good. lots of booths also sold ice cream in watermelon bowls, but angela refused to have one because doing so would perpetuate the stereotype.
the cultural performances were really good, too. there were a number of kapa haka groups at the maori complex, which we watched because angela had never seen one before. several of the groups were school aged kids, which was cool to see. there were individual recording artists from around the pacific performing at the venues of their country of origin. but what i liked most of all were the older kids and adults doing the traditional dances. one thing you realize very quickly in watching these is just how different the maori are from other pacific islanders. the maori have no drums in their songs, for one thing. any percussion comes from stomping and beating on their chests. but a number of islander dances are accompanied by incredibly fast drums and the full on hula skirt/hippy hippy shake kinds of dances that make westerners gawk.
we took a quick break at lunchtime to take in some of the rugby that accompanied the festival. then it was on to more souvenir stalls. then it was on to more food. how many variations on taro root are there in world cuisine, you ask? well, plenty. when it was all said and done, we made our way back to the car and headed down to hamilton, discussing the day's sights and sounds all the way.
what made it all really cool was just how foreign and different everything was. i can totally see a nearly exact copy of this kind of festival taking place in miami, with all the caribbean nations featured. but because of where i currently am in the world, i get a peek into a whole group of cultures about which i knew almost nothing previously. and now, of course, i have to go visit them in person.
dad's visit: te mata peak and tongariro crossing (aka "run to the hills")
after napier, we took a quick detour south to te mata peak near north havelock. as those of you who just followed the link know, the peak is featured as one of the 101 kiwi must do's that i've been trying to collect during my year here. one of the other ones in the region, gannet watching out at cape kidnapper's, wasn't going to fit into our schedule, so this would be the only one we'd get for this region.
the peak is very impressive and dominates the surrounding landscape. the very top is also accessible by car, which is a definite bonus when you have miles to go and you need to see new zealand's glorious splendor on a schedule. i'd love to go back, because (unlike many similar places in the US) they have a lot of mountain bike trails. i can't imagine biking with a better view.
after te mata, we were off to tongariro national park by way of taupo (dad got to try hell pizza there) so we could do the tongariro crossing, roundly considered to be the best one day hike in the country and a world heritage site (for both natural and cultural significance - score!). it turns out we were literally the only guests in the 80+ bed backpackers down by the park. the entire weekend had been rained out (so it was a good thing we had re-routed our trip) and the following morning was looking a little doubtful. the plan was to get up early, get ready to go and hope that the game time decision (made by the company that would transport us to and from the mountain) would be in our favor.
we got up the next morning, got ready and, after some deliberation on the part of the transport company, the trip was a go. the weather still kinda sucked and it ended up raining for a good portion of the hike. as a result, we didn't get to see much on the first half of the walk, but i'm told it's impressive. likewise, the high winds kept us from making either of the two side hikes up to the top of mount ngauruhoe and mount tongariro from the saddle point in the middle of the crossing. there was additional suckage in that, as we all know, mount ngauruhoe was mount doom in the lord of the rings, so i really wanted to call mike from the summit to tell him i was on mount doom and he wasn't. nevertheless, i climbed about 20-30 yards up the slopes so that i can at least say i've been on the mountain.
the one thing that the weather couldn't keep from us was the emerald lakes, which were amazing. these lakes are, not surprisingly, very green from the mineral content. there are also lots of steaming fumeroles scattered around. we decided that the lakes were a great place to stop for lunch. while there wasn't really any other place that would have been better, one thing you notice quickly about volcanic landscape is that, with no vegetation or rock formations, it provides nothing in the way of protection from the wind and rain. after our lunch of bier sticks, one square meals and snickers, we were ready to hit the trail again.
the rest of the hike was in better weather but slightly less interesting. we made it to the end with mere moments to spare before our ride back to the backpackers was going to leave, so, in reality, the side trips up to either of the peaks probably wouldn't have worked out anyway. i guess they'll have to wait for another trip.
one thing that we both noted on the excursion is the range of preparedness (or lack thereof) of the other hikers. now, dad and i are both pretty fit, and i went overboard preparing for the hike. we had plenty enough wet and cold weather gear, lots of food and enough gatorade to quench the thirst of a small third world nation. but there were people out on the highest part of the hike in the cold and wind and rain with shorts and cotton sweatshirts and so forth. i'm not sure how they managed. so, for any of you reading this who might ever consider going on this or any other major hike at altitude, DON'T BE A TOOL. DRESS PROPERLY AND BE PREPARED FOR ANYTHING.
after it was all done and we'd gone back to the backpackers to shower and get all our stuff, i took dad to the chateau tongariro, a really cool old hotel at the base of mount ruapehu. he was worried that we were under dressed, but i talked him into it anyway. as we sat in front of a 10' X 20' window looking out onto mount ngauruhoe with our drinks, he allowed as to how maybe it wasn't so bad that we came in dressed all grubby.
i love it when i'm right.
the peak is very impressive and dominates the surrounding landscape. the very top is also accessible by car, which is a definite bonus when you have miles to go and you need to see new zealand's glorious splendor on a schedule. i'd love to go back, because (unlike many similar places in the US) they have a lot of mountain bike trails. i can't imagine biking with a better view.
after te mata, we were off to tongariro national park by way of taupo (dad got to try hell pizza there) so we could do the tongariro crossing, roundly considered to be the best one day hike in the country and a world heritage site (for both natural and cultural significance - score!). it turns out we were literally the only guests in the 80+ bed backpackers down by the park. the entire weekend had been rained out (so it was a good thing we had re-routed our trip) and the following morning was looking a little doubtful. the plan was to get up early, get ready to go and hope that the game time decision (made by the company that would transport us to and from the mountain) would be in our favor.
we got up the next morning, got ready and, after some deliberation on the part of the transport company, the trip was a go. the weather still kinda sucked and it ended up raining for a good portion of the hike. as a result, we didn't get to see much on the first half of the walk, but i'm told it's impressive. likewise, the high winds kept us from making either of the two side hikes up to the top of mount ngauruhoe and mount tongariro from the saddle point in the middle of the crossing. there was additional suckage in that, as we all know, mount ngauruhoe was mount doom in the lord of the rings, so i really wanted to call mike from the summit to tell him i was on mount doom and he wasn't. nevertheless, i climbed about 20-30 yards up the slopes so that i can at least say i've been on the mountain.
the one thing that the weather couldn't keep from us was the emerald lakes, which were amazing. these lakes are, not surprisingly, very green from the mineral content. there are also lots of steaming fumeroles scattered around. we decided that the lakes were a great place to stop for lunch. while there wasn't really any other place that would have been better, one thing you notice quickly about volcanic landscape is that, with no vegetation or rock formations, it provides nothing in the way of protection from the wind and rain. after our lunch of bier sticks, one square meals and snickers, we were ready to hit the trail again.
the rest of the hike was in better weather but slightly less interesting. we made it to the end with mere moments to spare before our ride back to the backpackers was going to leave, so, in reality, the side trips up to either of the peaks probably wouldn't have worked out anyway. i guess they'll have to wait for another trip.
one thing that we both noted on the excursion is the range of preparedness (or lack thereof) of the other hikers. now, dad and i are both pretty fit, and i went overboard preparing for the hike. we had plenty enough wet and cold weather gear, lots of food and enough gatorade to quench the thirst of a small third world nation. but there were people out on the highest part of the hike in the cold and wind and rain with shorts and cotton sweatshirts and so forth. i'm not sure how they managed. so, for any of you reading this who might ever consider going on this or any other major hike at altitude, DON'T BE A TOOL. DRESS PROPERLY AND BE PREPARED FOR ANYTHING.
after it was all done and we'd gone back to the backpackers to shower and get all our stuff, i took dad to the chateau tongariro, a really cool old hotel at the base of mount ruapehu. he was worried that we were under dressed, but i talked him into it anyway. as we sat in front of a 10' X 20' window looking out onto mount ngauruhoe with our drinks, he allowed as to how maybe it wasn't so bad that we came in dressed all grubby.
i love it when i'm right.
dad's visit: napier
after dad and i left eastwoodhill arboretum and the gisborne area, we headed south down to napier in the hawke’s bay area. napier is known in new zealand as the ‘art deco town’. the entire place was leveled in the 1931 earthquake and, undaunted, the townspeople decided to rebuild in the style of the time. what resulted is what many who know about such things (the rest of us will just take their word for it) say is the highest concentration of the best art deco buildings anywhere in the world. the town of napier uses this to its full advantage, attracting tourists who want to take a step back in time.
i had planned to take dad to the town because of the deco tie in, his being from Miami and all, which has its own deco district. i’d also heard that there was a tour around town available where you get to ride in a 1930something de soto or some such, which i thought he’d get a kick out of. well, imagine my surprise when i found out that dad would be in NZ for the one week a year that they were hosting “art deco week” in napier. we managed to get literally the last backpacker room in town. the whole thing was completely amazing. the entire town turns out in period dress. lots of flapper outfits, lots of guys in striped sport coats and those hats that barber shop quartets wear. but what really blew us away were the cars.
as some of you know, my father is a bit of an old car buff (remember the arranged meeting with him and the guy who owns the wolsely here on campus the day he arrived). there must have been over 150 classic cars in town for the party. there were a number of old morris’s , vauxhall’s and MG’s, but mostly there were American cars: at least six packards (BEAUTFIFUL condition, and, in the words of my grandfather, "now, that's a CAH, jonathan"), lots of fords, chevy’s, buicks, a few cadillacs, studebaker’s, a couple of old dodges and even an auburn (in FANTASTIC shape). it was really trippy to see 90% of them with right hand drive (obviously they were manufactured for export). it’s kind of cool too that there are lots of car fancier clubs, like the “model T club of new zealand” or the “Chrysler restorers club of new zealand”. i got to hear from dad about who in the family had which of these old cars and how Kathleen made aunt eddie drop her off a few blocks from school because she didn’t want to be seen being dropped off in this enormous chrome covered monstrosity i was looking at.
it was also really cool to see cars that not only had i never heard of, but that dad had never heard of either. i don’t consider myself an expert on old cars, but he certainly is. we saw a singer, which looked really cool (small little british roadster) which the owner said he put back together without any real instructions, so he wasn’t 100% sure what it was supposed to look like). i asked several people after we got back and most had never heard of it either. i saw an old lancia (Italian) which i’d never heard of, but dad had (i can tell the following joke because i am part italian: i asked dad where this car came from. he said italy. i said "well, i guess the plastic seat covers (which it actually had) should have been my first clue"). there was a beautiful old reo (but not the speedwagon) with a body that looked liked like an honest to god wooden boat. there was something that i still don’t know what it is, but the hood ornament was a rooster head that lit up. in the words of that woman from napolean dynamite "i want that".
the restoration and detail was incredible. one guy with a Pontiac had what looked like an old advertisement for it (“america’s finest low priced car! $906!”). chrome was everywhere, at least on the American cars. one major difference, other than the size, between the American and English cars was looks. the English cars were mostly dull in dark colors, while the American cars were enormous, bright, shiny and with enough trunk space for the English cars to fit in.
we were truly astounded. neither of us would have guessed that there were that many classic cars in the whole country, let alone that would have made the trip to napier. the rest of the events were cool too. there was an old skool soap box derby for the kids. the designs there were great too (my favorite was the one made from an old bathtub and it had exhaust pipes down the side). heats were three cars each and the kids were pushed by an adult up to a line. then gravity took over. we agreed that choosing the twelve year old girl in sandals to push you (as one competitor did) may not be the path to victory, but hey, it’s all about having fun.
the whole deco celebration was awesome. they even had squadrons of spitfires performing aerial acrobatics over the water and there were cars that had banners on them that said “i survived the 1931 earthquake”. if you are ever in the country and you can arrange to get to napier for that weekend, i would highly recommend it. it’s a blast. just be sure to book your hotel/backpackers well in advance.
i had planned to take dad to the town because of the deco tie in, his being from Miami and all, which has its own deco district. i’d also heard that there was a tour around town available where you get to ride in a 1930something de soto or some such, which i thought he’d get a kick out of. well, imagine my surprise when i found out that dad would be in NZ for the one week a year that they were hosting “art deco week” in napier. we managed to get literally the last backpacker room in town. the whole thing was completely amazing. the entire town turns out in period dress. lots of flapper outfits, lots of guys in striped sport coats and those hats that barber shop quartets wear. but what really blew us away were the cars.
as some of you know, my father is a bit of an old car buff (remember the arranged meeting with him and the guy who owns the wolsely here on campus the day he arrived). there must have been over 150 classic cars in town for the party. there were a number of old morris’s , vauxhall’s and MG’s, but mostly there were American cars: at least six packards (BEAUTFIFUL condition, and, in the words of my grandfather, "now, that's a CAH, jonathan"), lots of fords, chevy’s, buicks, a few cadillacs, studebaker’s, a couple of old dodges and even an auburn (in FANTASTIC shape). it was really trippy to see 90% of them with right hand drive (obviously they were manufactured for export). it’s kind of cool too that there are lots of car fancier clubs, like the “model T club of new zealand” or the “Chrysler restorers club of new zealand”. i got to hear from dad about who in the family had which of these old cars and how Kathleen made aunt eddie drop her off a few blocks from school because she didn’t want to be seen being dropped off in this enormous chrome covered monstrosity i was looking at.
it was also really cool to see cars that not only had i never heard of, but that dad had never heard of either. i don’t consider myself an expert on old cars, but he certainly is. we saw a singer, which looked really cool (small little british roadster) which the owner said he put back together without any real instructions, so he wasn’t 100% sure what it was supposed to look like). i asked several people after we got back and most had never heard of it either. i saw an old lancia (Italian) which i’d never heard of, but dad had (i can tell the following joke because i am part italian: i asked dad where this car came from. he said italy. i said "well, i guess the plastic seat covers (which it actually had) should have been my first clue"). there was a beautiful old reo (but not the speedwagon) with a body that looked liked like an honest to god wooden boat. there was something that i still don’t know what it is, but the hood ornament was a rooster head that lit up. in the words of that woman from napolean dynamite "i want that".
the restoration and detail was incredible. one guy with a Pontiac had what looked like an old advertisement for it (“america’s finest low priced car! $906!”). chrome was everywhere, at least on the American cars. one major difference, other than the size, between the American and English cars was looks. the English cars were mostly dull in dark colors, while the American cars were enormous, bright, shiny and with enough trunk space for the English cars to fit in.
we were truly astounded. neither of us would have guessed that there were that many classic cars in the whole country, let alone that would have made the trip to napier. the rest of the events were cool too. there was an old skool soap box derby for the kids. the designs there were great too (my favorite was the one made from an old bathtub and it had exhaust pipes down the side). heats were three cars each and the kids were pushed by an adult up to a line. then gravity took over. we agreed that choosing the twelve year old girl in sandals to push you (as one competitor did) may not be the path to victory, but hey, it’s all about having fun.
the whole deco celebration was awesome. they even had squadrons of spitfires performing aerial acrobatics over the water and there were cars that had banners on them that said “i survived the 1931 earthquake”. if you are ever in the country and you can arrange to get to napier for that weekend, i would highly recommend it. it’s a blast. just be sure to book your hotel/backpackers well in advance.
television censorship, bizarre new zealand interpretation of
so they have recently gotten comedy central for sky tv here, which is cool. i wasn't sure how well shows like 'american dad' would translate, but they certainly are showing enough of them, so i guess we'll see.
anyway, the other day i caught part of the comedy central roast of pamela anderson. it had its moments. but what really struck me was what they didn't censor and then what they did. you got to hear every swear word in the book and vivid descriptions of nearly every sexual act and proclivity imaginable. but then we heard "courtney love would give someone a blow job for a diet *BLEEP*". this censorship of a product name might not have made such a big impression on me had i not just heard jeffrey ross proclaim what he wouldn't do involving bea arthur and andy dick's privates not five minutes before. i'd be more explicit, but we all know i try to run a family friendly show here (SEE, DAD, YOU COULD SHOW THIS ONE TO UNCLE ED AND AUNT VI. KINDA. WELL, MAYBE NOT).
so, things are a little different here, but in all, new zealand is a place 14 year old american boys would love because they will show boobies on tv after 11:00 and they don't bleep out the swear words. plus, the drinking age is only 18, so you'd only have to wait 4 more years.
anyway, the other day i caught part of the comedy central roast of pamela anderson. it had its moments. but what really struck me was what they didn't censor and then what they did. you got to hear every swear word in the book and vivid descriptions of nearly every sexual act and proclivity imaginable. but then we heard "courtney love would give someone a blow job for a diet *BLEEP*". this censorship of a product name might not have made such a big impression on me had i not just heard jeffrey ross proclaim what he wouldn't do involving bea arthur and andy dick's privates not five minutes before. i'd be more explicit, but we all know i try to run a family friendly show here (SEE, DAD, YOU COULD SHOW THIS ONE TO UNCLE ED AND AUNT VI. KINDA. WELL, MAYBE NOT).
so, things are a little different here, but in all, new zealand is a place 14 year old american boys would love because they will show boobies on tv after 11:00 and they don't bleep out the swear words. plus, the drinking age is only 18, so you'd only have to wait 4 more years.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
shortland street
so there’s this tv show here called shortland street that’s something of a NZ cultural icon. set at the fictitious shortland street hospital in Auckland, it maintains a blistering pace recounting the lives of the hospital employees, thirty minutes at a time. think “ER” without all that technical accuracy. i decided to watch to get a bit of cultural enlightenment and this is what i learned…
brooke (who looks a little like a kiwi sarah michelle geller) is surprised at home by her patient barry who is undergoing a breakdown due to the interaction of two drugs brooke prescribed him when she wasn’t paying full attention so she didn’t realize what would happen and the two paramedics (including the one token maori guy) can’t get in to help her but then barry bursts out of the door and gets on the railing of the second floor apartment walkway and threatens to kill himself but it’s okay because brooke talks him down and meanwhile this pretty but annoying blonde chick whose name i never caught is desparately trying to recruit people to go to morgan’s bridal/baby shower (which the other nurses don’t want to go to and morgan overhears this) because she’s having triplets (morgan, not the blonde, but morgan is also blonde, but i mean her and not the other blonde) and was supposed to be a surrogate mother for a couple who didn’t appear in this episode but who wanted to reduce the number of embryos from three to two to give the two a better chance for survival but morgan thinks that’s wrong so she’s reneging on the deal and is keeping the babies and is being supported by and marrying the ambiguously gay Gerald who is being taken out for his stag party on the same night as the hen party even though gerald’s boss (who is the father of one of the two paramedics from earlier but not the maori one) is trying to talk him out of the wedding because, you know, it’s like a big responsibility and stuff and fortunately brooke gets a pass on her mistake and won’t lose her medical license because one of the other doctors won’t turn her in if she treats this as a wake up call and is more careful in the future and the stag party starts off kind of lame because it’s just three guys at home playing some dice-based drinking game until the paramedics show up and the maori guy takes all their money at poker until they all go out and end up at the same bar where the hen party is but it’s kind of lame too and the guys show up at just the same time the blonde girl is judging the party game where the girls had paired off to make wedding dresses out of toilet paper and scotch tape and the pregnant girl had lactating breast pads on the outside of her ‘dress’ but they got her the recyclable kind because they all know how environmentally conscious morgan is and meanwhile TK and this woman doctor are working the emergency room and this mother and son come in from a car wreck and the son dies despite TK’s best efforts and it’s clear that he’s fed up with the way the hospital is run and how the patients aren’t treated like people but hey, it’s the nature of the job and the episode ends with Gerald (who is now pretty drunk) doing a strip tease in the bar in front of morgan who gets upset and storms off.
everybody got all that?
brooke (who looks a little like a kiwi sarah michelle geller) is surprised at home by her patient barry who is undergoing a breakdown due to the interaction of two drugs brooke prescribed him when she wasn’t paying full attention so she didn’t realize what would happen and the two paramedics (including the one token maori guy) can’t get in to help her but then barry bursts out of the door and gets on the railing of the second floor apartment walkway and threatens to kill himself but it’s okay because brooke talks him down and meanwhile this pretty but annoying blonde chick whose name i never caught is desparately trying to recruit people to go to morgan’s bridal/baby shower (which the other nurses don’t want to go to and morgan overhears this) because she’s having triplets (morgan, not the blonde, but morgan is also blonde, but i mean her and not the other blonde) and was supposed to be a surrogate mother for a couple who didn’t appear in this episode but who wanted to reduce the number of embryos from three to two to give the two a better chance for survival but morgan thinks that’s wrong so she’s reneging on the deal and is keeping the babies and is being supported by and marrying the ambiguously gay Gerald who is being taken out for his stag party on the same night as the hen party even though gerald’s boss (who is the father of one of the two paramedics from earlier but not the maori one) is trying to talk him out of the wedding because, you know, it’s like a big responsibility and stuff and fortunately brooke gets a pass on her mistake and won’t lose her medical license because one of the other doctors won’t turn her in if she treats this as a wake up call and is more careful in the future and the stag party starts off kind of lame because it’s just three guys at home playing some dice-based drinking game until the paramedics show up and the maori guy takes all their money at poker until they all go out and end up at the same bar where the hen party is but it’s kind of lame too and the guys show up at just the same time the blonde girl is judging the party game where the girls had paired off to make wedding dresses out of toilet paper and scotch tape and the pregnant girl had lactating breast pads on the outside of her ‘dress’ but they got her the recyclable kind because they all know how environmentally conscious morgan is and meanwhile TK and this woman doctor are working the emergency room and this mother and son come in from a car wreck and the son dies despite TK’s best efforts and it’s clear that he’s fed up with the way the hospital is run and how the patients aren’t treated like people but hey, it’s the nature of the job and the episode ends with Gerald (who is now pretty drunk) doing a strip tease in the bar in front of morgan who gets upset and storms off.
everybody got all that?
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