Visions from Waitati

Ok. So after a SERIOUS reprimanding from quite a few people about how lax we've been in posting lately, here's one for the masses (but typed with the caring detail of a message to each and every one of you, I promise). I write this in the very exciting company of Diane and Scott Martin, Megan's wonderful parents, who flew in this morning after a delightful ride on Air New Zealand. We're big fans of ANZ, any airline that refills your wine glass during dinner is alright in my book. They also earned bonus points by, true to the Kiwi humor, filming the safety video played at the beginning of the flight using real employees with ANZ uniforms BODY PAINTED onto them: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-Mq9HAE62Y
Certainly makes you pay more attention to how to properly exit the aircraft. Diane and Scott came bearing gifts of food and love. I am sitting next to a huge pile of treasures from Trader Joe's. Periodically I look over and smile at it. A smile that I think is roughly comparable to when parents bring their newborn babies home for the first time and every once in a while glance over to make sure that this new miracle is, in fact, theirs. Theirs to love and keep. That's how much we miss Trader Joe's.

My sister, Miss Roxy-Ann herself, is flying in tomorrow and I'm THRILLED. Fair to say that she is too. As I type this, she's in route to the San Francisco airport. Everyone wish her luck. It's always fun to see how our group dynamics change as different people come. I think with the addition of our family members we can look forward to extra games of cribbage (Scott is an absolute SHARK), driving around in the soon-to-be-named Rav4 rental car, and their oohs and aahs as a reminder of just how cool it is to be in a country where breathtaking views are a dime a dozen. I'm pretty excited to have my second half here to add to the dynamics. I should also mention that Diane is currently utilizing three of the four homemade stockings to pseudo-wrap Megan's Christmas present. This is all so charming. I think if she had known how excited we would be about the chocolate covered peppermint Jo-Jos cookies (picture monkeys howling over ripe bananas after a strict diet of rice and oatmeal) she would have felt pretty comfortabe skipping Christmas presents alltogether this year in lieu of more chocolate.

We're in our eigth day here at Simon and Tace's house, and loving every minute. Our friends Sarah Brooke and Keith are housesitting two doors down and we have dinner plans to feast on Keith's pad thai tonight. Here is a run-down of highlights from our stay here:

Climbing at Long Beach overlooking a beautiful blue ocean and long stretches of white sand

Seeing our little chickens every morning, those ladies are absolute dolls. I've just heard important news that our five chickens laid six eggs today. You tell me how that happens. I think San Dieggo is working overtime. When Megan told me that, Mel yelled from the other room "That's my GIRL!" Being first time chicken owners (albeit temporary) we have a lot of pride for our chickadees.

Eating fried egg sandwiches- our poultry pride doesn't stop us from eating their potential children. No guilt.

Baking delicious desserts in our oven, which is a real novelty when you're used to cooking all meals on a camp stove.

Megan learning different songs on the guitar so we can all sing along (The Box by Johnny Flynn and Yankee Bayonet by The Decemberists/Laura Veirs. Fast Car by Tracy Chapman coming soon)

Our fabulous acapella Christmas caroling that we recorded for everyone's listening pleasure (soon to be posted, I hope)

The Christmas tree (some might call it a branch) that Mel brought home for us to enjoy the holidays with. It sits in the living room decorated with headlamps, flower garlands, popcorn strings, and a few Christmas ornaments that I bought here to send home to my mom (shhhh...)

Reading like banshees. We are FLYING through books.

Mel's homemade salad dressing every night- that girl is a culinary goddess

The quality time we've spent with Sarah Brooke and Keith including climbing, cooking, eating, learning, singing, and mainly giggling

The visit of the Hartleys, two English brothers who we have managed to sync travel itineraries with as much as possible

A great night with George and Jack playing Cranium, telephone pictionary, and our never ending games of "Ooh how do you say this? What do you call these?" and our favorite "Ok try to say this with an American/English accent," peppered with the occasional meaningful political conversation or discussion of current events, and lots and lots of laughing.

Megan dropping her phone in the ocean and breaking it just enough so that the only thing it does when turned on is repeatedly call "Jeremy DJ Boy," a hottie radio DJ who gave Megan his number in Auckland. I'm sure he's been loving the attention of getting 14 missed calls in a row every few days when we check to see if her phone has healed itself. Of course it would pick him.

Inventing our new favorite beach game of turning random squiggles drawn in the sand into pictures. We played that for probably an hour with Jack, while George played dad and patiently waiting for us to have our fill.

Last but not least, Mel, Megan, and Lauren, and me all sleeping in one queen sized bed last night for no good reason (as there were two other perfectly good beds going unused in the house) other than that we didn't want to separate at the end of the night. For those of you looking for logistical details, Lauren and I were facing one way with Megan and Mel alternating between us facing the other way.

I should probably note that we have been dearly missing Danielle, who is on the North Island traveling with her parents, during all of this. Who knows, maybe it would have been five in the little bed if she were with us.

A very common question we get is whether the five of us are getting sick of each other yet. I think the example of us all willingly sleeping like sardines because we prefer it to separating should give a pretty good answer to that. I'm not sure how we do it, but we do, and it definitely seems pretty effortless. I've noticed that the group of us act similar to the litter of puppies at the Brough's house. We seem to do a pretty good job of sleeping, eating, living in unison, usually preferring to do all of those things while in physical contact with as many other group members as possible. I think we also probably do a good job of understanding when each other need alone time and do our best to make it possible.

The five of us are also incessantly bragging about each other. It's probably annoying. "You would not believe how good Lauren is at soccer. Come to think of it, Mel too! Those two are gifted, I tell you. Fine oiled machines." Just an example.

But seriously, while we're on the topic, they ARE good at soccer. It's really impressive.

So that's how we live our lives. A lot of people have been asking how life is different here compared to at home. Things are pretty similar to home. Kiwis are a pretty darn nice bunch of people, it definitely stands out in day to day interactions with strangers. I'm so used to driving on the other side of the road that I have a hard time imagining the steering wheel on the left side of a car anymore. I'm slowly getting used to the really intense roadside signs urging you to drive safely: "Drink, drive, DIE IN A DITCH!", "Fate doesn't decide your speed, you do! (accompanied by a picture of the upside remains of a charred car surrounded by ambulances), "Feeling tired? Take a break" followed by another sign, 600 meters later, "GOT THE MESSAGE? TAKE A BREAK!" or "DRINK DrIvE." They even have some aiming at the younger, hipper population: "Hand the keys to a sober bro." 

Pretty creative. You have to admit. I would love to see what's going on the board room where they decide these slogans.

Duly noted. We will continue drive our little selves safely around while in this country. Posting all the while, I promise.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

Hello to all of our faithful readers! Happy, happy non-denominational holidays to you all! The author of this post is me, Mel, the 5th addition to the crew. For those of you who don’t know, I went to high school with Danielle and Megan, and fell in love with Christy and Lauren during several road trips down to SLO. I’m coming up on my one month anniversary here (I’ll probably just buy myself some flowers, keep it low key). I’m writing this post on Christmas Day from the kitchen table at the wonderful home we are house-sitting at during the holidays. Let me fill you in on the back story to our situation: we were eating at our favorite café in Dunedin, Circadian Rhythm, when a woman sitting near us named Tace struck up a conversation about our travels here. Less than two minutes into our conversation she mentioned that she needed house sitters over the holidays…according to her we have “honest faces”, which we couldn’t agree with more. The next day we went and checked out their place, which is in a teeny town called Waitati (Y-Tah-Ti) about 15 minutes outside of Dunedin.

Tace, Simon and fifteen month old Olive live in our dream home. They are on a nicely sized piece of property with bountiful gardens, a green house, a caravan that Tace lived in when she first came to NZ (planning on only staying a week…)and five lovely chickens, Cinqo, San DiEGGo, Hoo-hah, Feathers and Raisin. The house itself is absolute delight, complete with a wood burning stove, spacious kitchen and two bedrooms, our favorite being the ‘sun room’ where we lounge around all day. Nicknamed our Goddess Haven, general consensus is this home has led to most relaxing week we’ve had in awhile. We usually don’t leave the house until around 3 or 4 (if we do at all) and dinner every night is filled with fresh veggies from the garden and eggs from the ladies. Truth be told, we have only had one night to ourselves here! We’ve had four nights of house guests, starting with Georgia and Grace, Lauren’s awesome little sisters, then George and Jack our wonderful English (not British, we were taught the distinction over dinner) friends and Sarah Brooke and Keith, friends from the US.

We’ve had a pretty adorable Christmas Eve and Day. Christy and Megan knitted (knat?) and crocheted stockings for all of us, which we hung in front of the stove, with care. While jogging yesterday I came across $5 Christmas trees in someone’s front yard- they are more along the lines of large branches, but nonetheless it is standing proudly in the corner of our living room. We decorated it with our headlamps, flowers, popcorn strings and various red-colored clothing. Last night we sang our favorite holiday tunes by the crackling fire and then watched Love Actually, a group favorite. Before we went to bed I made sure to leave a note out for Santa. We are sure he’ll be able to find us, even in New Zealand.

This morning we woke up and made Christmas Day pancakes while listening to the Nutcracker, Starbucks and Sufjan Stevens holiday CDs, respectively. After that we opened our sparse but meaningful pile of presents and took some cute holiday photos which will surface sometime soon. The rest of the day has consisted of the usual book reading, knitting/crocheting, movie watching, skyping with friends and family and good quality lounge time. We are really perfecting the art of just hangin out. The most memorable part of the day for Megan and I has been cleaning out the chicken coop; it turned out to be much more difficult and smelly than we expected.

Well, quite the post! Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful, magical holiday with loved ones wherever you are <3

crazy devil bird

Since arriving to New Zealand, we have become strangely interested in birds. It's not uncommon for us to swerve, pull over (slash stop Connie in the middle of the road) or follow various species. We are slightly more interested in the 'flightless heavyweights' (Kiwis, etc.) but have strong affections towards smaller birds, as well (such as the common Fantail, which apparently lands on an outstretched hand. Megan is often found walking around with one arm stretched out...).

However, today I was attacked by a bird. Fully attacked. Or, more like my foccacia sandwich was attacked. The Keas, the only alpine species of parrots, are gorgeous. So, naturally, I got really excited when the first Kea that I had ever seen landed right next to me! What luck! I was already thinking of what I would tell my super-cool-bird-obsessed-traveling-team! But then... things went steadily down hill from there... The incredibly gorgeous parrot turned incredibly aggressive and it started getting ugly. I took off and THREW both of my Vans at it, screaming. My mom was simulatenously trying to save the hummus while brandishing her Leatherman at it, also screaming at the top of her lungs.

I don't think I've ever been so scared of a bird before. I can't really describe it properly. I was SCARED. The look in its eyes was so determined and evil, I didn't know what to do. I literally stuffed my whole sandwich in my face, grabbed everything I could and RAN to our car.

I checked, and Keas are found nowhere on the North Island, which is where I am headed. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kea)

So it's all good.

Merry Christmas

My little sister Grace is showing me her favorite youtube videos. This one's pretty fantastic and minus the fact that it was filmed in the UK, it would happen in NZ:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2FX9rviEhw#watch-main-area

Her other favorites come from a series on the BBC called Funny Talking Animals: A Walk on the Wild Side. She likes this one the best, but they're all  pretty good if you ask me. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQ1HKCYJM5U&feature=SeriesPlayList&p=0663F5654A7B6C91

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOa5QCmOrz0&feature=rec-LGOUT-exp_fresh+div-1r-2-HM

It's been a hard day.

Southward bound

Our lucky streak seems to be going strong.. we stayed all of last week at the university dorms in Christchurch with a couple friends we had met at Hang Dog. The semester just ended, so with all of their roommates moved out and eight empty bedrooms between the two of them, it only made sense that we should move in. Nadav and George were wonderful hosts, and it was suprising how quickly and effortlessly we learned to cohabitate for a week. We finally got in some good dancing, after a dry spell of a month with no beats or grooves. Christchurch definitely knows what's up with the dance scene.. our favorite place, Boogie Nights, is fully equipped with a light up dance floor and people dressed up in neon spandex scattered throughout the crowd. The songs are all the hits from the 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s.. and everyone knows the words to every single song. Oldies, Whitney, MJ, Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls... As you can imagine, we had a great time.

Danielle, as per usual, made us stop at McDonalds on the way home for her ice cream sundae. I'll let her elaborate on this development in her life whenever she's ready.

Mel, our fifth zany American girl, arrived last week to a magical day at the public pool. I know we've written about the public pools before, but honestly, I don't think words can do them justice. We arrived at the pool, got changed in under two minutes, and sprinted (all five of us) down the ramp to the wave pool. Once we hit the pool deck, we turned into 7 year olds, at best. We laughed our way over to the lazy river, spun ourselves sick in the whirlpools, and stared longingly at the waterslides that were too pricey even for the amount of joy they could have brought. We ended our pool sesh lounging in the hot tubs, while Mel foolishly went for the steam room. They should put some sort of signage up that one should not combine steam rooms and jet lag.

So, last night the travelling team split, and Mel, Christy & I headed down to Dunedin to wait for the girls. We stayed at Hogwartz, a hostel on a hill up above the city that is a dream come true for any J K Rowlings fan. No joke, it really exists. The drive here was lovely, and it felt like Mel's first experience of 'real' New Zealand. The hills were glowing in the setting sun (which doesn't set until NINE THIRTY PM) and Mel stared out the window oo-ing and aw-ing and yelping exitedly with the Kinks playing in the background.

Today we've just been wandering the city in the rain. An hour ago we were sitting in a cafe, calendars out trying to plan the next few weeks before Christmas, and a woman approached us with a proposal. She first wanted to know if we were travelling (she is from Cayucos, oddly enough), and she next wanted to know if we'd like to house-sit for her for two and a half weeks over the holidays while she's camping with her family. All we'd need to do is take care of the chickens and keep the house up. We are very good at keeping houses up and readily agreed to the deal.

Oh, and we took our Christmas photos yesterday to send to you all. Be very excited.

c c co cooo cookkkss cookiesss

I just ate WAY too many of Lauren's famous chocolate chip cookies and now my stomach hurts. You know when Lauren makes these cookies and you feel like it's okay to eat tons of dough first and then five cookies on top of it all because.. i mean... she makes them with oats, raw sugar, wonderful nuts.. dark chocolate.. organic goodness... so they're healthy, right?

yeah.. no.. my stomach still hurts. and i wish that i could just teleport all those who know Cookie's coookies just as well as i know them to this very kitchen table.. so that i wouldn't have to eat them all myself.

but this is how we pretend we have a home... we move into other people's places and bake cookies. so having an aching stomach is definitely worth it. i accidently just ate another one and half way through it Lauren gave me a look and i remembered that i had just complained to her about my tummy.. so i put it down.

everyone, please come to new zealand. we will bake you cookies if you do.

Barefooted Readers

It's a rainy day in our new found home of Takaka, NZ, and our entire camp commune has migrated to the public library for the day. 40 new friends can be seen snoring on the window seat, reading the books we've been suggesting to eachother over the last few sunny days, writing in our journals, and talking with our far away loved ones in roughly eight respective languages...

But best of all is the pile of shoes outside the library door. Shoes of all sizes and colors, from my green Keens, Danielle's Uggs, Megan's hemp Simple Boots, and Christy's beloved Chacos, to the rain boots of the various kiddos running around the Children's Section that I write you from. These librarians run a tight ship, and so we're all gladly following the rules, leaving our muddy shoes at the door and flaunting our bare feet and socks.

Awe, New Zealand.

This post is a special one for us. I’m nervous to write it because I’m afraid I can’t begin to catch even a little bit of the magic we experienced in Taranaki, New Zealand. I’m going to try, though.. So here goes.. (sorry, it's a bit long)

The Wanganui River is one of the hundreds of waterways that roll off Mount Tarankai’s 9000 feet. Like them all, the Wanganui winds through fifteen miles of cow paddocks, eventually finding its way to the ocean and feeds the endless supply of Taranaki’s world class waves. The Wanganui is also the river marking the last right-hand turn you make before finding your way to the Brough’s dairy farm… After the river, there’s six sheep on the left, and then their driveway… You pull your Holden Commodore, packed to the roof, slightly mildewy from the earlier monsoon, onto the grass in front… Because you drive on grass here, there’s just that much of it.
Within ten minutes the jokes are on and an invitation to milk the cows is extended. An hour later, the table is set with beef they raised, salad from the garden, parsnips from the neighbor farmer and glasses of milk from the vat out back… Fresh, real, wonderful: An omnivores dilemma hardly exists here.

At the head of the table is Graham, a big bellied, big witted, big hearted farmer, dirty denim jeans and a flannel shirt at all times.

(Graham with the girls)

Opposite him is Linda, this soft spoken, smiley, smart woman who cares about her family and lone travelers like ourselves.Delwyn, their eldest daughter and our ticket to Taranaki, is a feisty and funny legal secretary, a total lover with twinkling eyes, she’s perfectly happy… all the time. Next is Nathan, so cute in his 6’4’’ know-how-to-do-everything-19-year-old-builder sort of way. And then Heidi, who’s just cool and mature for only being 13.

My girls, my Christy, Megan and Lauren make me so proud as (like she has known him for years) Christy asks, “Hey… is it cool if we bake you a cake while you’re at meeting?” And just like that we’ve won them over… huge smiles, a wonderful bible study and one oatmeal apple cake later, you can call yourself family.

Delwyn said she had invited a couple kids over for “tea” on Thursday night, so we decided to at least stay until then, planning on leaving Friday morning (never want to commit to anything, you know..). It’s funny, though, because a “couple” means 25 and “tea” means a mean barbeque, an outright two hour volleyball challenge, and a hard out ping pong tournament. You see, we’ve been practicing-- ping pong, that is-- and in New Zealand, Megan, Christy, Lauren and Danielle ROCK at ping pong. So, of course, when I hit the volleyball out of the court, I justifiy my lack of skill with the claim that if only it was ping pong, “I’d be kicking butt!” and from across the court, Lauren’s got my back: “yeah! Her serve is killer!” Little did we know… There’s a ping pong table in the garage. Perfect. And we’re met with more than a couple, “PROVE IT!”s. So, not only did you adopt a new family, but you also found 25 new best friends, and you feel like you could maybe call the dairy farm home. During dessert, Hilton (the coolest 13 year old EVER) asks, “So, what are you girls up to tomorrow evening?”… “ummm, well… we don’t know…” (Standard, noncommittal answer. For all we know, we could decide to fly back to San Luis). 25 smiles light up across the room, “Perfect! You can come possum bashing with us!”

Clearly. Possum Bashing. Of course.

Take a truck with a trailer, loaded with hay bails and 25 kids bundled up, wearing cleats, carrying baseball bats… throw in a couple spotlights, and you’ve got a possum bashing super TEAM. You see, New Zealand has a problem with possums. A big problem. They aren’t native and they kill native bush. The Department of Conservation pays you to hunt them, encouraging humane disposal of the pests. Apparently, possum bashing is considered humane? Somehow, to our dismay, the energy of the night is contagious and as you’re flying through Lord of the Rings Never Never Land on top of a hay bail and you see a possum’s glowing eyes light up under the spotlight, you YELL and even admire the speeds met by 15 boys flying off the truck… jumping rivers and climbing trees to trap the poor, unwanted creature… as soon as it drops from the tree, bats start swingin’ all around and dead and bloody, the possum is thrown under Megan’s legs in the trailer and we look for more.

What else do you do in Taranaki on a Friday night?

Little did we know, our Friday night would hold much, much more. Delwyn had called that afternoon, “Have you ever ridden motorcross before?” Haha. Danielle? Megan? Lauren? Christy? Motorcross? Actually… it’s against our moral code… it’s a waste of gas, which is not a renewable recourse… but since we are in New Zealand, and we are already about to go possum bashing my answer is: “Nope, never been, but would LOVE to!!"

And that’s how we ended up quading and motor biking through paradise… Paradise being Delwyn’s boyfriend, Justin’s backyard. 1600 acres of native bush stretch out behind their epic house that is perched on top of a hill, looking out to the ocean… Spend a half an hour on the quad winding through gully after gully, soaring green hills, crystal clear streams, roaming cattle, and you don’t even touch a quarter of their land. Acting mostly as spectators, tt was crazy to watch these adrenaline junkies for boys literally fly up the steepest hills and off jumps. It’s crazy just how comfortable and confident they were going so incredibly fast. It felt like we were in (or watching) the X-Games in Never Never Land.

The four of us were giddy. That’s the only word. Giddy. Lauren put it perfectly: “it’s like being that girl in the movies, being swept away by some bad boy on a motorcycle-- never in our life did we think we would find that attractive… but it is, it’s this crazy damsel in distress feeling that comes out. And it feels like you’re flying, like you’re on a rollercoaster… but you’re not strapped in.” Because there’s something just so good about jumping on the front of a Kiwi boys bike, him asking if you want to drive, and then it’s just a green blur as you top off at 150k. And then he does a wheely down the pasture with your feet almost flying over the handle bars, and it’s over. Done. Going to have to buy a bike. And maybe live on a farm. And eat beef more. And… and… Life Is Just Beautiful.

Our smiles were so huge, it was ridiculous.

Adrenaline pumping, we and our new huge friend group chowed some hamburgers, fueling up for those poor lil possums. The boys, our possum-huntin’ hosts, are quintessential Kiwis. At any point, they give any American boy a run for his money. All of em builders, welders, you name it, by the age of 20 they work for themselves and they love it. Tough and incredibly capable, their farm-boy stereotype is carefully balanced by the ever intelligent Kiwi sense of humor-- dry sarcasm veiled behind little smiles and wit you wouldn’t believe. These kiwis can handle anything…

Including cows. We are bumping along, searching for possums, and come across another paddock of dairy cows. The temptation is too high, so when Bayden looks at Justin and asks, “See that brown one?” Justin replies, “Lets go…” and they jump off the truck, sprinting straight towards the herd… Justin grabs the tail of the bull and while being drug, bouncing along, Bayden tackles the cows head, and down it goes. They yell, “Want to ride it?!” And yep, four tackles later, all four American girls had successfully rode a bull. Danielle might have ridden hers into thistles, but it’s cool.

As you can imagine, it as crazy. Maybe insane. And completely magical. Another world. One that we fell in love with, much to our surprise. Riding back to the house, Lauren and I start discussing the logistics of moving here… maybe… we’ll see. Offer upon offer is made to make the move easy and Hilton is probably counting down the days until he can beat me at ping pong again. (Hilton)

The next morning, it’s a laugh as the same crew shows up late to a church function. I mean, we had to milk the cows, I had to go on a surf mission… but maybe it was that we had hunted possums all night. All I know, is that while I sat there eating tea, and tried to ignore Graham’s teasing about the single boys in Taranaki, I felt like I had just gotten barreled or something… It felt good. I felt at home.

The Thanksgiving Post

This post is especially for Grandma Martin, possibly our most loyal reader. Thanks Grams.

Happy Thanksgiving to all. I guarantee you, we miss everyone.

I know I've said it before, but we're having a great time here. With the time difference, Thanksgiving was yesterday for us. We're currently camped out at Hang Dog, a climbers haven in NZ. The camping is cheap, the people are friendly, and the rocks (for all the die-hards) are close. I'm proud to say that the four of us are well on our way to becoming die hard climbers, although we're certainly not there yet. Hang Dog was a place we were really excited to get to. In the month that I've been here we've had a rough schedule of the places we want to go to, but the only solid date we had nailed down was that we WERE going to be in Takaka for Thanksgiving so we could celebrate it amongst the famously friendly residents of Hang Dog. Turns out that was a pretty good plan. We arrived at camp a couple of days ago and were a little intimidated by the large amount of people here who all seemed to know each other. We made a few friends at the BEAUTIFUL swimming hole and talked around at camp and realized that 1. There were quite a few other Americans here (including two girls from Santa Barbara!) and 2. the non Americans were all pretty interested in giving Thanksgiving a try.

We decided we couldn't expect a full traditional Thanksgiving spread given our limitations (a lack of money and the restrictions of camping stoves instead of ovens) so told everyone to bring whatever they felt like to our little shindig. The girls and I prepared mashed potatoes and a glorious camp-stove baked apple crisp. I hand-whipped cream for the top of the crisp. I'm tell you, this was gourmet.
Our table was buzzing with a gazzilion different accents and campstoves. Before we ate everything from curry to kumara soup to stuffing, we gathered round and everybody shared something they were thankful for (real cute). Responses included my beautiful traveling companions, sweet rocks, airplanes to fly here, Hang Dog, and Connie the Commodore. So, we spent the night with 20+ other campers all gathered around eating wonderful food and enjoying each others company. The feasting ended with campers doing Tim Tam slams- bite the ends off of a Tim Tam, a chocolate covered cookie, and using it like a straw suck up hot milk then throw the whole thing in your mouth... mmm... It's even better than it sounds, too. Megan, Danielle, and I stayed up until 2 in the morning laughing and getting to know the neighbors, which is a little later than our usual 9 or 10 o'clock bedtime.

I'm not sure if I can explain how incredible our makeshift Thanksgiving was. There was a definite sense of community around the little table (standing room only) and our little picnic blanket. I had countless conversations over the night with people talking about how great it felt. It was a good feeling to get to share a holiday that we love so much with people who had never celebrated it before. Definitely a cool experience.

Kiwi Conspiracies

I guess you know it's REALLY raining when the Seattle-ites say so. After visiting beautiful Raglan (known for something something... really famous surf spot... long wave, something something... I'm not sure, ask Danielle) and staying in Solscape, a hostel that allows WWOOFers (a program called Willing Workers On Organic Farms- free stay and food in exchange for four hours of unpaid work a day) and backpackers alike to stay in camping spots or converted cabooses (cabeese?) we really got poured on. We were all happy to have sprung the extra 8 bucks each for the caboose instead of camping. I think my little trusty tent- you know, the one I mentioned earlier that 8 years ago cost us around $50, has one almost broken tent pole and no stakes- probably wouldn't have survived. For those of our friends and family who know the story of the Jalama camping trip, there was talk of this being a worse storm.

Unfortunately, even though we had a dry place to sleep, we still had to deal with getting from our dry caboose to the car which was a far enough distance to completely soak all of us. After much squealing, and Megan stepping in a puddle (again. I think this is the fourth time of the trip) we had successfully brought in enough water to keep the car fogged up and real swampy for the 3 hour drive we had in front of us. Awesome.

We arrived at our destination, Taranaki (The 'naki) with the sun shining, which allowed us to see the beautiful view of Mount Taranaki which goes from about sea level to 8200 feet. As a reference point, Shasta is 10,000 feet above its surrounding terrain. Thank you Wikipedia. We all agree that if this town were on the South Island there would be a good chance that we would strongly consider living here. It's next to great surf, tons of climbing and hiking, the town is pretty cool and bike-able (key because we're only going to have one car between the five of us). We all like the downtown area a lot and it's nice that there aren't many tourists that come into these parts.

It's interesting to me to see the difference between the timeline we were originally planning and how things have panned out here. I'm fairly certain that in my mind we were going to travel around for a week and a half or so after I got here then move on to WWOOFing and then settle in a town on the South Island before our parents/families came to visit. I've been here 3 weeks and we're still on the North Island with a plan of 2 more months on the road. I think the only thing we can count on is that our plans WILL change.

People would laugh if they saw how crammed into our little Commodore we are. We can pack everything tightly enough to be able to see out of the back of the car, but to do that we need to take up 2/3 of the backseat. This leaves one lonely person crammed in the back and three people sitting in the bench seat up front. We travel around with a bag of provisions, mostly fruits, veggies, oatmeal, cheese, eggs, peanut butter, bread, honey, and supplies for baking cookies and cake. It's a good thing that all of us are pretty good about eating the SAME foods over and over again. My standards for refridgerating food have dissappeared completely along with the presence of frozen food items.

Our bird watching is still in full swing, with us shouting out bird names as we drive by them in the country. Megan and I thought we saw a kiwi bird in the middle of the road one night. Danielle and Lauren swore they saw four legs, Megs and I were convinced the front legs were actually a beak. After Megan got out of the car to investigate she came back saying that the mystery creature behaved and looked like a hedgehog, but still could have been a kiwi. We probably would have dropped the subject had not our bird book later told us that kiwis "snuffle along at night like a hedgehog." That little bit of information (or glimmmer of hope, as we saw it) was enough to send Megan and I back down the road with the intentions of finding that bird. I suppose we eventually had to admit that it probably wasn't a kiwi, especially after another guy staying at our hostel said he had a hedgehog come into his room that same night. But secretly we both think that it just might have been a kiwi after all. Maybe.

So from here on out, our rough schedule is: more time in Taranaki, then off to Wellington, the capital, then cross down to the South Island to spend time in Nelson (a potential future home) and Hang Dog camp (a climbing spot). After that we're off to Christchurch for a guest appearance by our dear friend from SLO, Julian Zielonka, who has been working a dream job Bali, and then on December 3rd we're joined by our fifth girl, the lovely Melanie. Y'all can look forward to her future posts.

Lucky Girls

This past weekend, while Danielle went on a lovely little camping trip up to Waipu, Megan, Christy and I hiked to The Pinnacles in the Kauaeranga Valley on the beloved Coromandel Peninsula . We camped on the bottom the night before in our little Connie, woke up to mosquitoes in our ears, and got out of there before we had to pay for our campsite.
Waiting outside the visitors center to pay for our little hut and start our trek, we were quite the sight...making breakfast out of our little stove with all our stuff strewn around the car, eating oatmeal in the parking lot...

When we went to go pay for the hut, the ranger almost laughed at us, as the hut with 80 beds was totally booked--TILL JANUARY--but to our relief, only a few minutes earlier a group of three had canceled their reservation...(This, I feel like, is the story of our lives over here. Having no plans, but everything always working out for us. It could be that because we don't have any plans, ever, anything that happens is great and so it seems that everything just works out, or maybe we're just lucky...it's probably a little bit of both).

The hike was great, lots and lots of stairs and entirely uphill. We were so impressed by the kiwis of ALL ages cruisin up the mount. After three hours of INCLINE Meg, Christy and I arrived at our first kiwi hut. The Pinnacles Hut, come to find out, is the flashest hut in the whole country, consisting of 80 beds, running water, gas stoves, and a shower. It felt like a hostel on the top of a mountain (a little trippy actually and not exactly an intense nature experience). The night before all three of us squeezed into our car and slept on therm-a-rests, but on our backpacking trip we slept on a mattress...what? I know, it's confusing. But we had a good time up there with the other 77 people.

The whole experience has got me thinking though...I mean, how wonderful is it that they make backpacking so accessible to everyone. You don't need a bunch of gear or patagucci to go on these long walks, and it gets people who normally wouldn't backpack outside moving their butts and engaging the landscape... something about that sounds right.

All to say, we had a wonderful time. We hiked back down this morning and arrived at Conn just as it started to rain. We drove to Sola Cafe in Thames, a nearby township; after enjoying a vege sandwich and a warm cup of coffee, we walked back out to find that Connie had a super duper FLAT tire. And, did you know that AAA works here? Well, it most definitely does, so after making a few phone calls, we played a few card games back in our little cafe, hung out with the nice road side service man and were back on the road to meet Danielle back in Auckland. So here we are, staying one last night at the house on Hamlin Rd with the lovely boys who have hosted us so many nights.

We are camping out on the living room floor. As I write, Danielle and our new lovely friend Kate Anstis are reading, all snuggled up on the couch. Christy is uploading photos on to her computer, and Megan is reading The Dharma Bums.

Tomorrow, we think should hold an adventure to a famous Auckland chocolate shop, some rock climbing, and perhaps some kite surfing...who knows...

We just spent six days in the Bay of Islands after planning on being there for two. Pretty typical. We stayed in a little cottage on the water that belonged to a Dutch couple, Yon and Berl. We guess that they're in their 80's, but they sure have heaps of spunk left in them. We loved hearing Berl's stories about rowing out to rescue entrapped dolphins and watching Yon ride up and down the hill on his motorbike. We made them lots of cookies in exchange for the free lodging, and I think everyone felt they got the better deal. At least we hope..

Day two we went swimming with dolphins for two hours at Elliot's Bay. The local surfers who were there said they had only seen dolphins a handfull of times at that spot, and they had never seen them stay and play for more than a couple minutes. The dolphins must have an affinity for nice American girls. They probably would have let us ride them if we weren't so scared.

Day three we went to opening night at our friends' swanky restaurant. We helped paste the menus together the night before and celebrated our first Guy Fawkes day with fireworks on the beach. The next day we discovered how much we enjoy row boats and ping pong, and I don't think we did much else. We made up for it yesterday, though, when we went fishing all day for snapper. We went out in the morning and caught our lunch, then went out in the afternoon and caught our dinner. Learned how to fillet (pronounced fill-it). Dad will be proud. We caught 10 keepers and countless undersized survivors and one 20 pound monster.

Now we're back in Whangarei (pronounced Fangarei) with the Olsen family, and it felt a little like coming home as we pulled up to the house. Eastern rosellas greeted us on the drive up the gravel road --

as well as Louis, who later in the night donned a bright green skirt and dress jacket for dinner. We proceeded to make a feast of enchiladas SLO style. We got to see our dear friend Yammy, the Olsen's (temporary) pet they have named after his two best qualities: being a lamb and being yummy. Their last two lambs were Yoda and Lambington, but as the kids confidently explained to us in the car one day, they have a good life on the farm now. Poor Yammy. One day he too will be on that farm.

The other morning a text woke me up with the message: "Good morning! Wondering if you would like to go fishing and diving around noon? We can take the sailboat out after lunch... let me know."

Um, yeah, sure, I guess that would be okay... I mean, I'm not too busy or anything. Actually, I have no plans at all for the day (or the week. or the year. or, wait, my whole life...). You should have seen my smile. I mean, what?!? It was like he was worried we wouldn't want to go... little did he know Megan is obsessed with fishing and I can't get enough of sailing.. but then he threw in the spear fishing element... and i just started laughing, kind of wondering if i was still dreaming.

thus embarked our sail/snorkel/spearfish adventure with our skipper, Rich, and our two new mates, Aimee and Josh. sunny skies and perfect wind set us racing out of the harbour resulting in one of the best sails i've had in a while. we anchored off of Leisure Island and josh gave us a 30 second spear fish lesson. literally. 'here's the safety, when you want to shoot a fish, take it off.' The end. And off we went! It was actually the first time Lauren, Meg, and I had ever free dove... so even the weight belts took an adjustment, let alone having a gun in hand... but we caught on and i ended up shooting at anything that resembled a fish. it was an unfruitful mission; however, i'm convinced we can do it. my goal is to catch a fish by the end of the nz adventure.



Josh, our spear fishing coach and our cooking partner for two amazing dinners... taught him how to make spaghetti with meat AND vegetables, instead of just 2123 pounds of beef. He was pretty excited about it and we were secretly excited for the excuse to put 'mince' in our sauce.

We anchored the boat off of Leisure Island, started diving in the sunshine and got out of the water in pouring down rain and thunder... typical NZ weather.

This was definitely the winning picture of the day. :)

Christy's first post

I should probably point out that as I type this I am overlooking one of the most beautiful views I've ever seen. I think there will probably be descriptions of it coming. I can tell already that this trip is going to be a good one.

I arrived in Auckland at 5-something on Halloween morning, fumbled my way through customs... forgot to declare my tent, they saw it on the x-ray, pulled me aside and asked if I was aware that it was a 200 dollar fine to not declare something they so clearly (they did) spelled out as one of the must-declare items... I had to wait an hour past all the other passengers to get it figured out. All for a tent that my dad couldn't believe I was taking the effort to bring because it cost (10 years ago when we bought it) something near 50 bucks. We'll keep our loyal blog followers updated on whether or not our little tent proves itself as worthy in the coming months. In the end, I wasn't charged the lying fee and the girls were late to the airport anyway so everything worked out.

We left the airport with me very confused about which side of the road we were driving on. I understand the basic left side of the road while you're driving stuff, but where it get's tricky is intersections, roundabouts, or (the worst of them all) u-turns. Basically every reflex I've been programmed to drive with is backwards. I haven't driven yet. We'll also keep our followers updated on that topic.

We are currently staying in Whangarei with friends of Lauren's older brother. Their house is a marvel. Within minutes of getting here Danielle and I were walking our laptops around the house showing our mothers the view(s) via Skype video chatting. Danielle (timidly pronounced Dani-ell now that we're in a place that is nationally confused by the name) also gave her mom, an interior designer, a tour of the beautiful house. Surprisingly I skipped it for my real estate agent mother... sorry Mom, another time. For what it's worth, we could be staying in a dungeon and still be happy with this family, Suzanne, Paul, Emily (12) and Louis (9). They have been very welcoming and have handled the daunting task of playing host for four girls to an impressive degree. They have been very patient in letting us get our game fix by playing cards with us. I taught Emily the only card trick I know, which she in turn wonderfully showcased at our dinner last night. I'm really pulling for breaking the Bananagrams out today, Emily is fighting for Monopoly, but between our hiking, slacklining, and surf lession plans (Danielle teaching Louis) I'm not sure when we're going to have the time. Tough life.

We got to meet their American neighbors,Vic and Trisha, who sailed to New Zealand 20 years ago after previously living in Morro Bay (12 miles from San Luis Obispo) and Port Townsend (home base for my mom's side of the family), and somewhere close to where Danielle and Megan are from in Washington. We were pretty excited about those connections. Trisha and Suzanne showed us how to weave flax, maybe comprable to reeds used to weave baskets, and we've become so good that I'm sure everyone can expect flax laundry hampers from us as Christmas gifts. Vic and Trisha came to dinner last night with their sons, Simon and Justin. We had a FEAST of freshly caught something-or-other fish that I didn't quite catch the Maori name for but I think it loosely translates to deep sea bass. Paul made ceviche, a favorite of ours from past travel experiences in Latin America. We've been working out caving plans with the boys for tomorrow (I'm telling you, it's a tough life here) and made sure to get contact information for as many future connections as possible from Vic and Trisha. We also had some very inspiring converstaions with them about possible future plans (working on a boat, anyone?)

mountain biking?

So, today we realized the glory of Coni's hitch... because, yes, we can tow whatever we want... what with our V6 and all. The combination of a bench seat, a 3.8 cylinder liter engine, and a tow ball means we can cart six people and a trailer with six mountain bikes up to the Rotorua Mountain Bike Park (it's pretty legit.. they fully shuttle you up the mount and there's 'routes' marked out. like a ski mountain).

And thus began Megan and I's first mountain biking experience... ever. (Lauren is a seasoned vet; she went to mountain biking camp when she was 12) We didn't really take pictures because... well... my eyes were closed most of the time, anyway, and we barely had time to think. If I could sum up the afternoon in a few words it would probably mainly consist of 'aaah... eeehhhh... AAAHHHHHHHHHH' and then uncontrollable laughter.

At one point, Lauren yelled back at me, 'I wish we were surfing!' But I think it was good, really... i mean, i feel bad for the tree i hit, but it's okay. We decided we'd do it again someday, but feel that somehow rock climbing/surfing/basically any other extreme sport is WAY easier AND safer than mountain biking.

End result: a much, much deeper respect for any and all mountain bikers. way to go. props.

Hi all. We left Napier and headed up to Gisborne, allegedly one of the sunniest places in New Zealand. It poured the day we got there, which put a serious damper on our camping ambitions. The sun did find its way to us eventually, and Christopher, a Scottish friend we met on top of a rock in Dunedin and ran into again in Kaikoura, also found his way to us. The four of us drove through rain, hail, and slippery NZ roads and ended up here, at the Flying Nun hostel.



The Nun ended up playing a leading role in our adventures in Gizzy. We stayed just one night, along with the rest of South America. We never thought we would hear so much Spanish in New Zealand. The next day when the sun came out, we went north to camp, waving goodbye to a hostel with a very strange room keeper and the only free wireless in town. If we thought we were driving away for good, we were oh so mistaken. Half a day later, Lauren realized that she left her BACKPACK under the bed. Back we went. Day and a half later, Danielle realized she had left her booties there. Back again. The best part of it all was that every time we would go back, we'd sit on the front porch and try to steal the free internet. Good thing these girls have me around.



Camping makes us feel happy. We made another amazing dinner in Connie's kitchen and had ravioli, veggies, and wine before going to bed at 7:30. We had to go to bed early if we were going to be the first people in the world to see the sun on Thursday morning. Look it up. Google it. Gisborne.



Ha. So. For the last few weeks, we haven't been able to figure out how to put the back seat up in our car. Not that we wouldn't want to be riding around three in the front, but with Christy coming in a week, we decided we should figure it out. The first night we slept in it, we simultaneously layed down and heard a distinct click. We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders, and went to sleep. The obvious solution now was to go to a Holden dealership and have them show us whatever trick we needed to know to get it back in position. We pulled up, unpacked the whole car, and sure enough, seat's fixed now.





Scotland sold me his guitar after 12 hours of serious bartering, and now we've left Gizzy for Tauranga. I'm typing on the couch of a house where we are "dog sitting" for the weekend while the family is away. This involves feeding the dog once a day and staying in their beautiful home. Lauren just made a couple batches of her famous oatmeal cookies and some peppermint tea, and we are watching The Devil Wears Prada projected on a giant screen in the living room. We have a personal hot tub, a kiwi and avocado orchard, and a tennis court. We also are sleeping in separate rooms for the first time since September 30th.

Sun Kicks and Trail Mix

Dearest Friends and Fam,
I write you from sunny Napier, a little town in Hawkes Bay on the North Island known for its wine country and art deco architecture.
On Thursday we took a three hour ferry ride from sunny happy Picton to rainy dreary Wellington, the capital of this here kiwi land. Danielle drove us off the ferry into the heart of the city. It was a bit overwhelming, the sort of feeling that San Francisco has on people who don’t know where they are going, Megan and I maps in hand, Danielly trying to follow our directions, one way streets, streets that aren’t labeled, round-abouts, staying on the left side of road, no parking, etc…
But we navigated our way to the downtown natural foods store, Commonsense Organics (thank you Lonely Planet). It was so exciting to go to a good grocery store. As most of you probably already know, I have a soft spot in my heart for grocery stores with good ethics. This one, small and simple as it was, made me smile. We filled up on oats, honey from Kaikoura, cheddar cheese, free range eggs, curry spices, coconut milk, black beans and veges--the essentials--and jumped back in the Comm in search of a hostel for the night.
All the Welly hostels were pretty packed for the night, so we had to split up into different dorms. We then squeezed ourselves into the kitchen lineup and managed to sautee our white onions and mushrooms, scramble our eggs, and make breakfast burritos for dinner, no salsa though, and a far cry from Linnaea’s.
I don’t know if we’ve written about this yet, but food is darn expensive here. The grocery store is doable, but going out is a big deal. So, what ends up happening is that we’re never full. We make great breakfasts with our jam-packed oatmeal goodness; we eat a pretty sad lunch usually consisting of apples, cheese, maybe peanut butter, maybe bread; and then around eight we make something like mini burritos--always yummy but always small. All to say, is that we dream of Trader Joe’s care packages, and if you come and visit (which you should!!!), you should bring some raw trail mix, raw almonds, salsa, semi-sweet chocolate chips, and anything else you can think of--but if we could ask for anything it would be endless bags of trail mix and dried fruit--these are the things we dream of at night. (As I write this, across the table Danielle is discussing how her jeans are getting too big for her…we’re dwindling away!!! Just kidding..but seriously, bring the trail mix).
Okay, so, back to Wellington. Basically we arrived in a rainstorm. That night we could be spotted in our rain shells and rolled up jeans running from awning to awning. We found shelter in an Irish Pub before doing the same routine back to our humble accommodation.
The next morning Wellington looked the same, rivers for roads and cloudy skies. This, plus the fact that none of the streets connect and parking is horrid, driving Connie was real stressful. We had heard from our friend Sandra from Guerilla Café, Berkeley CA, that Wellington was awesome. She had lived there for a year and was super excited that we were going to her beloved town. So, we had high hopes for this city and the rain and the smelly hostel were really cramping our style. Therefore, after searching FOREVER for parking we decided to do what any Californian would do, and that is follow the sun, and get out of town. Wellington will be there for us to explore with Christy a month from now when we head back to the South. So, we canceled our next hostel reservation, grabbed a bagel and a couple of lattes, pulled out three maps, and headed out of town.
So here we are, in lovely Napier. She is a sunny 22 degrees Celsius ( a far cry from the 1 degree in Dunedin). We have traded our baselayer-under-the-jeans fad for tank tops and cut offs, and we are happy.
The owner of Groove Kitchen Espresso (a hip little café that has two turntables built into the counter to the left of the expresso machine) clued us into a free campground on the beach only fifteen minutes south of town.

After spending the afternoon looking for non existent swell, a rock climbing wall, the local pool, eating at an Indian food festival, and sipping a Chimay at a swanky tapas bar on the harbor, we cruised down the beach in search of our home for the night. It was easy to find. Our first spot turned out to be a giant mud puddle, which Megan found out the hard way for us. After rinsing off in the ocean, Megan hopped back in the car and we found a dryer spot. We pulled the boards out of the back of good ole Connie, unrolled our sleeping bags and thermarests, and slept like babes.
This morning we woke up and transformed our sleeping quarters into a regular gourmet kitchen. We used our handy dandy camp stove for the first time, French pressed some coffee, and made some LEGIT oatmeal, all of which we leisurely sipped and ate on the pebbly beach.
So good.

Now, our tentative plan for the day is to head to the local pool (which is incredible, heated, salt water, and right on the beach), catch up on some internet (check), and stay the night at a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of Danielle’s.
Tomorrow, D is off to meeting with our hosts, and Megan and I are headed to the renowned Hastings’ farmers market to stock up on some fresh veges for the camping trips planned for the next week. And then on our way back to Napier we are stopping at my brother Jubal’s old friends Sarah and Steve‘s house, and we are having tea with them and their three kiddos, should be good fun.
This week we should be camping at a couple of spots a little north of here and eventually making our way to the Mahia Penninsula. Our New Zealand surf guide describes it like this: “if you could design the perfect geographic set up for a surf area it would closely resemble the Mahia Penninsula.” Pretty exciting… (thanks Jub for the tips and the book, as Danielle reads it religiously).
Whew! That was long! But needed, since internet for us is few and far between these days.

Lots of love and more to come!!!

wanderin' with waves

So, because we only have my wee lil’ Netbook and can’t upload Lauren’s massive picture files, I would recommend google image searching Kaikoura and then Mangamaunu before reading on. Kaikoura happens to be the convenient combination of Big Sur, the Canadian Rockies, Napa Valley, and the Hawaiian coast. I honestly believe it is one of the most magical places I have ever been, let alone surfed.

The second google image search that you should have already done is of a magnificently peeling completely empty powerful right-hander off the Kaikoura coast. The first day, Lauren and I surfed a shoulder/head high swell with a 14 second plus period with the snow-capped mountains as our backdrop… totally alone. The area is casually referred to as ‘Meatworks’ because underneath the waves and our surfboards are boulders that never rest. When the waves roll in, so do the boulders and an eerie, rumbling, thunder-like sound can be heard. Before surfers wore booties, the rocks were known to cut up their feet… Hence, ‘Meatworks.’ Lauren and I happily donned our booties and carefully timed our paddle out between the waves and boulders.

Our next surf stop is the Mahia Peninsula... The favorite area of Lauren's older brother. Planning on spending a week wandering about. A sentence we've heard over and over: 'I mean, the drive is great... it's so beautiful... and then the WAVES. Wow.' NZ is a bit of a mecca for our types and it just keeps getting better.

In other news, heard that Mr. Obama won the Peace prize... props, dude. We are all super curious to know how home is feeling about it all. Comments/Concerns?

Left Kaikoura on Thursday, after a glorious few days in Christchurch. We had only planned on staying overnight and continuing on our way, but four days later we said our goodbyes and (granted we don’t fall in love with EVERY city we go to) would consider making a home there come January. We stayed on a chicken farm called Chickadee while we were there with the wonderful Addington family. Peter, the father, is a total nutter. He is fascinated with America and can’t stay on one topic for more than 30 seconds before he is distractedly on to the next. Lois, the mother, loved having girls around who talk about life and their feelings (she has four boys). James, the youngest, flirts with us ALL the time. He’s 17 and a horrific driver. Myles can’t stop laughing at nothing. And Julian patiently taught us about lead climbing. As soon as we can figure out how to put pictures up from Lauren’s camera we’ll provide excellent photo documentation of this.

Here are some pictures from our last days in Dunedin. Lauren’s little sisters Grace and Georgia were real serious about Uno.

Sol square in Christchurch was one of our favorite spots. Bikes bolted to concrete walls.. bars with couches and armchairs in the alleys.. and a jazz club called Fat Eddy’s that blew any other bar I’ve been to out of the water.

Made Myles go canoeing with us down the river that goes through the city centre.

We sprung for a fancy dinner and amazing dark beer instead of paying for a hostel, later finding a nice spot on the beach where we cozied up and slept in the back of the car. Constance Connie the Commodore Commie has been perfect. Just three American girls in the bench seat up front cruising around middle earth.