Admittedly, I'm a terrible blogger.

So it's safe to say that I, Mel, am the worst blogger out of the 5 of us. I don't believe I've updated the blog since January. Here-go's trying to recap the past couple of months (spoiler: I'm actually writing this from my uncle's house in Los Angeles).

Our grand, wild Australian adventure ended on a sad note because Christy and I had to bid farewell to our beloved other third, Megan. It's hard to part from someone who is within three feet of you at most times throughout the day. Shortly after our re-entry into NZ we were joined by Christy's 'special friend' Justin (had that one coming Dunbar). The three of us spent a wonderful couple days at Hang Dog (I won't elaborate, check older posts to do the place justice) where I fell even more in love with rock climbing and they got warmed up for their two and a half week rock climbing extravaganza around the South Island. ExtravagaNZa. What a fun word to type.

The three of us parted ways in Blenheim; located on the northeast tip of the South Island, it will probably be my first and only stab at unskilled manual labor. Australia seriously drained my already dwindling funds, so I decided to work in the Marlborough wine country while Christy and Justin went hitch hiking around for a couple weeks. I stayed at a backpackers hostel that linked us with local contractors in the area. Most of the work available was on the vineyards pruning and picking the grapes. The work was intense folks. We would wake up at 5:45am and be working by sunrise, and the days were long and hot. Although the work was physically draining, it was our treatment as workers that made the job so bad. The contractors and our managers would drive around in 4WDs and shout at us for not doing our jobs fast enough or well enough. We would get threatened to get fired most days when we got off work. It was very humbling to know that this is what some people do day in and day out year round.

I also became mildly socially retarted in Blenheim. The one friend I did have, Daniel, put it well "Yea, sometimes I wonder where you are and then remember, oh yea, she's just in her bunk watching movies...". I think this resulted from the personal space deficit I had been accumulating on the trip, and also from feeling lost without the other members of the WolfPack. I filled my non working hours riding my new best friend, little Anne on long rides out in the wine country, hiking around the hills, wandering around the city. I set up a video and a library account; I watched more movies and read more books in those 2 1/2 weeks than in the previous 6 months combined. It was fabulous. But BOY was I excited to see Christy and Justin when they came back.

Justin deserves his own paragraph. What a great guy. Here are my two favorite memories of him: Christy and I were in the ladies' loo for awhile one day, and when we came out she commeneted that Justin might be getting impatient. We look across the street and here comes Justin, blading enthusiastically across the street in the rollerblades I'd just bought at the Salvation Army. He then put on around a ten minute 'blade show that included him falling straight on his ass in oncoming traffic. The 16 year old gaggle of girls nearby loved it. A few days later we were in Tauranga with Danielle, and we noticed an orange construction cone on top of a fairly tall tree. The conversation transitioned to a new topic, and 5 minutes later Christy asked "Guys, where'd Justin go?" We look over to the tree, and he was swinging like a monkey from the branches, making his way to the top. I think some of you might enjoy hearing that all three of us slept in Connie for a couple nights, Mel Sandwich style.

Auckland. Out with the old, in with the new. I welcomed two members of the Estes clan on the morning I had to say goodbye to Christy and Justin. It was an unexpectedly soon goodbye, but we made it quick and easy (another spoiler, I will see her in 4 days). The Estes boys (Ben, my middle brother, and Brian, my dad) and I had a great time; my dad was here for a week and Ben for two. We started out in the Bay of Islands where we went kayaking and hiking, and stayed a few nights in Piha. We camped on the beach in Rarewa and checked out Cape Reinga and the sand dunes on 90 mile beach. The weather was fabulous and we were lucky enough to go swimming every single day. They were both overdue for a vacation and had a blast. I'll still try to get my dad to update the blog a la Scott Martin, but no promises. Another highlight of our trip was making a Happy Birthday video for Mike, the eldest Estes child; he turned 28 while we were here, so we put together some funny clips for him on Ben's Flip Camera he got for Christmas (they are great for documenting a trip). I will try to post the video on here at some point.

After we dropped Dad off at the Airport, we headed down to Tauranga so Ben and Danielle could be reunited (they hadn't seen eachother since high school) and then spent a few days in the Coromandel Peninsula, which was beautiful. The forecast was rainy in the Peninsula so we headed towards the Waitakere Scenic Reserve, which is west of Auckland. The three days we spent there turned out to be some of the best I had in New Zealand- there are over 250km of trails along cliffs, by rivers, in the bush, you name it. It was magnificent. Ben and I enjoyed filming another Birthday video for our dear friend Joel, a highlight being the scene where Ben attempts to blade a half pipe at a local skate park, to the great amusement of a couple 7 year old Kiwi kids.

Wheew that's all the blog I've got in me for the night. More to come.

So it just seems to be the way things go that none of the girls here ever know when they'll be
leaving until at least three weeks before hand. I may have set the record with 6 days. After an amazing trip hitchhiking around the South Island, Justin and I returned to Mel and Connie in Blenheim. To be able to put our backpacks in a car and then drive wherever we wanted was great fun after the past two and a half weeks.

I am so happy that Justin and I got a chance to hitch around the island. Hitchhiking is really common here so there isn't really the same stigma as at home. We never had too much trouble getting picked up- our record was when the person two cars behind the one that dropped us off picked us up. On a few occasions we had to wait an hour and a half maybe, but never more than that. I enjoyed the experience of talking with all the different drivers. There definitely isn't a specific type of person who usually picked us up. A few times we even had drivers who swore they never usually stopped for hitchhikers. It must be our roadside charm. Or the juggling.

After a short trip to Stewart Island and a wonderful reunion for me with Dunedin, (I love that city) Justin and I headed out to Purakanui for one last day of climbing. We were picked up by a lovely woman, Justine, and her daughter, Izzy. I sat in the back and talked with Iz, who has bright red ringlets and a maturity far beyond her 6 years, while Justin and Justine talked in the front seats. I'm not sure what the two of them discussed because I was absorbed in a serious story, complete with hand diagrams, about the neighborhood Izzy lived in. Justin managed to catch my attention and asked if we wanted to accept the offer to stay with Justine and Izzy in their spare bedroom. Hmmm... sleep in a bed in a warm house with amazing people, or haphazardly find a place to put up our tent... I'm in. The house was wonderful and we had a great time cooking dinner, playing on the trampoline with Izzy, meeting Blondie the pig, and talking with Justine after dinner. In fact, we loved it so much that we readily accepted the offer to stay another night.

In the middle of all this I was exchanging emails with potential employers for possible job offers for leading work crews in the backcountry. One starts in early April and the other in mid May. I decided that if I were going to come home then start a job where I would be even more isolated from contact with people than I am right now (and all of you thought I was hard enough to get ahold of already), I would want to spend some time at home first.

Our last day of hitchiking was a great accomplishment: Dunedin through Christchurch all the way to Blenheim. We even were picked up by a truck driver, something I thought was never going to happen. We then met up with Mel and caught the ferry to the North Island. We stayed with Danielle for a night (which was every bit as wonderful as she said. It was great to see where she's been living this whole time. We all really liked the family and are so happy for her) then drove off in the wee hours of the morning to pick up Mel's dad and brother from the Auckland airport.

So here I am. Justin flew to Australia this morning after a great month here. I now have a day and a half to enjoy myself in Auckland before I hop on a plane tomorrow night to fly home. TOMORROW NIGHT. What? Am I leaving this wonderful country tomorrow???

I guess that it feels right, though. I'm excited to be (hopefully) getting a job that I'm really passionate about. I could happily continue traveling for a lot longer... living out of a backpack, sleeping on my trusty Thermarest, brushing my teeth in public bathrooms every night- in fact I'm basically signing up for another 5-9 months of it if I get this job that I'm applying for. The main thing that I think I'm ready for is to have a purpose again. I think that I'm ready for some serious work after living such a carefree lifestyle. This trip has had a lot of different sections- traveling around with different combinations of the five original girls and all of our different visitors (Mt. Cook with the Egges, Hokitika to West Coast to Wanaka with my sister and the Martins, climbing tour with Justin), staying with all the WONDERFUL families who invited us into their homes, meeting up with other travelers from all over, and meeting Kiwis who showed us around.

It seems fitting to me that if I can't spend my last two days driving around with Lauren, Danielle, Megan, and Mel, then there's no way to do it other than by soaking up that last part of New Zealand by myself.

Yesterday, as i was dutifully folding sweatshirts at Rip Curl (I go corporate a couple times a week) I got fully attacked. Mel had run screaming through the store, throwing me into an incredible hug and spinning me around only to face the dear Christy Dunbar, followed closely by good ol Justin. Hug after hug ensued, all while i was trying to not cry.. ha.. And although Mel pulled back to do her usual check over... "I think your hair may be blonder... it does look like you've seen sun... are your knees more scraped than usual? what's these bruises?".. within five minutes i've forgotten that i've been separated from them for so long.

it really was pretty exciting. i got to see connie, which is like seeing home. she looks great. the girls have done well. and you know the feeling when you are just so happy that standing still is really NOT an option, but you must kind of keep fidgeting like you have this HUGE secret that you can't tell anyone... but really it's just that you're so freakin STOKED that even your heart is beating kind of funny? yeah. that's about how i felt. to have these three kids come into my world... my Mount Maunganui world, where i've spent the past three months working and surfing and kind of alone... was pretty epic.

christy and mel are both beautiful and doing wonderfully... Christy heads home tomorrow (she may post about that later... say her good byes...) and Mel is now about to go on an adventure with her dad and brother, after which she will return to me.

they dropped off a lil vintage blue road bike for me. i found a couple bright plastic flowers and they are now hangin out on the handle bars. i took the ocean road to the surf shop today, which means that almost my entire bike ride to work i can watch the waves. it's a hard life these kiwis live.. :)

Oh no.

Looks like we're a little behind on blogging. I guess there's probably a lot to catch up on. Because I'm working on a time and money budget from one of the expensive internet cafes that can't be avoided in New Zealand, I'll just give a short update on my most recent events:

After a VERY sad goodbye to Megan at the Sydney airport, Mel and I returned Steve, the slightly beloved rental car and hopped on a plane to return to NZ. It's funny how I view flying after this type of traveling. Plane flights are always exciting, but usually a little bit of a pain. You're kinda cramped and would rather be cooking your own food than eating the stuff they serve. Not anymore. The idea of sitting on a plane and watching free movies and getting (what seem like) free meals is luxury to us. Mel and I were pretty excited.

I'm not sure what we did for the frist three days we were in Christchurch... I think it involved a lot of internet time searching for jobs and other chores like that. Either way, before we knew it, the morning of the 18th came and it was time to go pick Justin up from the airport. Justin did a pretty good job of immediately fitting into our lifestyles here. I think he genuinely considered Mel's offer to let him drive away from the airport on our way to Takaka.

We arrived in Takaka, home of one of our favorite climbing spots on the South Island, Paynes Ford, and one of our favorite camping spots, Hang Dog. Hang Dog is an amazing place, all the climbing you could ever want to do is a short walk from the campsite, there are two AMAZING swimming holes on the way back to camp from the climbing. The first swimming spot has multiple rope swings, rocks to jump from, and a couple of climbing routes that you can do over the water without a rope. Heaven. The second has more jumping spots, wonderful rocks to lounge out on, and a slackline set up over the water. Heaven, once again. The campsite has loads of friendly people, more slacklines, a bonfire at night, and a few potlucks thrown in here and there. From camp you can borrow one of the bikes and ride into town. Bike riding is one of the main things all of us miss from home, it feels really good to get on a bike and cruise into town with the paddocks behind you and the gorgeous mountains in the distance. In town there are GREAT cafes and restaurants to visit. Pastries to eat, coffee to drink. We were at Paynes for six days, I think. We managed to climb ourselves silly while still making time for all of the other goodies the place has to offer. Being there feels similar to being on a cruise ship or a Club Med vacation. You wake up in the morning with no responsibilities or obligations but somehow feel like you have a lot of things to do. It's hard to fit in all the climbing, biking, swimming, eating, and laughing in just six days.

So the wonder team (Mel, Justin, and myself) left Hang Dog and headed to Nelson, our point of separation. When we reached the highway, Mel and Connie headed east to go find a job working at a winery. Justin and I found ourselves on the side of the road hitching rides west to Greymouth for the night. Hitchhiking in New Zealand is wonderful. The people who pick us up have been, without exception, great. We've had some great conversations with Kiwis, travelers, and quite a few people who have moved here from other countries. We usually don't have to wait very long for a ride, although there have been a few times that have taken close to an hour. Justin and I manage to entertain ourselves fairly well, we do a lot of laughing, singing, dancing, and recently we've been working on our juggling skills. We try to keep all of that to a minimum when there are cars in sight, somehow I feel like people will be less inclined to pick us up if we look like we're trying out for the circus. Maybe I'm wrong though.

From Greymouth we headed out to Castle Hill, a famous bouldering spot in the mountains between Christchurch and the west coast. It was beautiful, absolutely magnificent. Bouldering (climbing shorter distances without ropes) isn't really my thing so I mainly spent my time there walking around or reading. You could probably lose yourself in the scenery for weeks on end if given the chance.

Camping near Castle Hill is pretty similar to Hang Dog. I think the same people visit the two, it's just a matter of who you catch in which spot. There is a slackline set up, communal areas to cook in, and a great community of people who gather around in communal areas after the long hard day of climbing is over. Instead of swimming holes there is the famous cave stream, a quarter mile or so of cave that's been dug out by a stream (go figure). We went through there with a group of 10 or so people from the Craigieburn campground. Our group looked like you would probably imagine a bunch of climbers to, barefeet, Chacos, old running shoes, old shorts, and a few shirtless guys. There were other groups there who came with guiding companies outfitted to the max: gaiters, waterproof clothing, hiking boots, helmets. Definitely a funny comparison.

Ok it's my turn to shower, so I'll let Justin finish the rest of this description:

Now that I've completely wrecked this poor hostel's bathroom shaving, cleaning underwear and washing grass from our toiletries, I hear it's my turn to guest post on the blog.

Let's see. Craigieburn was phenomenal, but completely in the boonies. About 50km from the nearest town in either direction, Christy and I had to be smart about the groceries and fuel we brought there. We weren't. By day two we were downing handfuls of dry muesli and currents, making lentils with carrots (very orange) for dinner and when we ran out of fuel, cheese sandwiches.

The climbing at Castle Hill is bizarre. Famous for mantels, stems and the other bodily contortions its boulder problems require, I came to question - as I gruntingly shimmied my way on top a rock I might have jumped onto with a running start - whether what I was doing could really be called a sport. How could I justify this ridiculous stone lovemaking to an outsider? With me existentially troubled and scraped all over my torso, Christy out of the action because she prefers sport climbing to bouldering and both of us tired of eating like livestock, we decided to hit the road.

Retracing our steps through Arthur's pass out to (oh my god I'm horrible with indiginous names) Hokitika we continued to enjoy the wonderful weather. A cream cheese and apricot sauce pizza at Hokitika's Fat Pipi's had us both acting like we'd just returned from a desert island. It was, by any standard, a delicious pizza and the place has received a ton of rave reviews. Christy and I recommended it for days, "Oh your headed to Christchurch? Well let me tell you about this little pizza place just 350km out of your way."

After a great night camping with a British couple who fed us ginger beer and spoke of their travels as scuba dive guides, currently married and with two cute girls, we made our way along the sand-fly infested west coast inchingly. Stuck in Franz Joseph for maybe the longest time yet Christy caught up on the cell phone and I juggled roadside rocks for potential rides finally charming a couple of German girls into picking us up and driving all the way to Wanaka.

Our first night in Wanaka we were luckily directed to a "free" campsite by a local (if Christy has told you it was free she has since eaten her words - more on this in a bit) where we left our tent and packs the next day a trip out the hospital flats crag. Alas, here our weather luck runs out. The first Wanaka rain in nearly two months sent Christy back into town and me on a suicidal hike up Mount Roy. Christy had warned me that the hike was miserable, but with cold almost sleeting rain, Chacos on my feet, no rain jacket and nothing to eat, I've since had to make room for Mount Roy in my top ten most miserable outdoor experiences - congratulations Mount Roy. After spending too much time sandaled and among the sandflies and completing this hike we thought my feet picture worthy:

I was reminded of my father's medical magazines which always saved the juiciest skin disease for the cover and found their way to the kitchen counter where they could be conveniently contemplated before a meal.

The next day and every day since we have made it to the hospital flats area and done some fantastic climbing each of us notching some personal records (Christy's first 20, holla! almost my first 26). The weather has been great and we've had time to enjoy the town - a movie at Cinema Paradiso, burger at Red Star, food and coffee at the cafes. Two angry visits from the park ranger later we're on the lam and continuing south.

Alright, back to Christy now. So it appears we've been surviving the sand flies, park rangers, various weather patterns, and, maybe most impressively, each other. Justin has had to dodge more than one fireball from me trying to light his temperamental stove, we're all hoping he survives the rest of the trip. We've been having a great time traveling though. Nightly dancing while brushing our teeth, taking turns using the broken spoon, attempting to fend off the crazy possums that eat all of our food, and the hilarious trips we take around the grocery store with a shopping cart filled with our backpacks (climbing gear, sleeping bags and pads, cooking stuff, tent, hiking shoes, running shoes, and climbing shoes, etc. take up A LOT of room) and other stuff have all become habit. I'll try to get in another update soon.

Where to start. Here I am, three and a half months into the New Zealand traveling experience, sitting in an internet cafe in glorious Sydney, Australia. The girls and I are really enjoying our Aussie vacation. Sydney is wonderful and has really shown us her good side. The weather here hasn't been quite as accommodating, but I have to admit that it feels really nice to walk around in shorts and a tank top at 10 pm. If there's a place in New Zealand where you can do that, I haven't been there yet, or at least not at the right time of year. We had a wonderful time with the Hartley brothers, and were very sad to see them leave. I think we all feel pretty confident that we'll somehow manage to meet up again- we've done a spectacular job so far... Those poor boys are going to wake up one morning to our eagerly smiling faces at their doorstep.

Megan's portrayal of how out nights are going is, unfortunately, accurate... if not an understatement. It's confusing how we are continuing to function throughout the day on the small amount of sleep that we're getting. Actually, based on the disoriented call home I made a few days ago, my mother might tell you that my circuits are a little screwed.

Maybe the three of us are still going off the amazing sleep we banked while staying at the house of a family friends of mine. The Nichols, Allan and Sweet Bronnie, were absolutely incredible. Somehow they thought it was a good idea to let me talk them into inviting five of us stay with them- myself, the two girls, and our darling friends George and Jack (who somehow we managed to talk into stopping in Australia on their way home to England). We made it in time for a going away party for their son Phillip and his partner Georgia's traveling extravaganza and were able to shmoose it up with family members and friends for the night. Bronwin's parents stole the show and charmed all five of us. The next day we were off, following Allan's lead, to the reptile park where we were able to see all the reptilian, avian, and mamallian sights Australia has to offer. Somehow the poor Nichols were tricked into having all five of us stay, once again, for the next night. George was horrified that we were overstaying our welcome, I'm sure. We all had a genuinely wonderful time talking around the table at dinner that night, followed by some good old fashioned televised tennis and cricket. Turns out Melanie and I are absolutely no good at watching, or understanding any of the rules of, cricket. Megan had the good sense to fall asleep early on the couch. I've had quite a few people make comments to me about being a typical American and not knowing the rules of REAL sports, like cricket or rugby. I assure them that my ignorance of those sports has nothing to do with my nationality because even after all the Super Bowl parties, high school sporting events, and football games I've watched with my family, I still have only a slight understanding of what's happening in football... and even that is pretty limited to the knowledge that there are four quarters in a game and 7 points in a touchdown. Actually I have a confession: after typing that I looked at Megan to confirm that there were in fact, four quarters and 7 points to a touchdown. She responded that there are for sure four quarters, but shrugged her shoulders in a "your best guess is as good as mine" regarding the touchdown system. I'm not even sure if America will let us back in the gates if word gets out, that's probably grounds for removal of citizenship.

Whether they were impressed with our sports knowledge or not, the Nichols really showed us a wonderful time. We delighted in bird watching from their kitchen, being part of the traditional weekend trivia quiz, the AMAZING food we were given (they even bought gluten free bread for Mel!), and in general being accepted into their family for a few days. I think the five of us were all just a breath away from calling them Mom and Dad by the time we left. So thank you, Dear Allan and Sweet Bronnie. If nothing else, thank you for providing us the only showers (other than at the beach) the girls and I were able to take until the public pool today... yes, it's been 7 days. Probably for the best that they got to see us at the beginning of the trip rather than the end.

On that note, Meg, Mel, and I are every second slipping further into the homeless life. We thought we had hit rock bottom at the beginning of our adventure through OZ: Megan and I were struggling through the city with a backpack each and jointly carrying another cumbersome bag. Megan, in a flash of genius, commented that what we could really use was a shopping cart to help us. I marveled at her ingenuity. That was just the beginning. Later, the three of us wistfully admired an exceptionally posh homeless camp that George showed us. Today at the rugby match we watched the game from outside the black bars lining the stadium. After months of washing dishes in drinking fountains, showering wherever running water can be found (this week we delighted in a spigot we found at a local park), and camping on the side of the road (we haven't paid for camping once in Australia), you really come to adjust to things. Today were asked by a security guard to move from our lunch spot: the floor of a parking garage.

The standard that has been set for a "good night's sleep" is ridiculous. Our rented Ford Falcon (dubbed FalConnie by George and Jack, but endearingly referred to as Steve by the three of us) has the same layout as Connie. Every night we fold the seats down and voila: bedroom in the backseat. I sleep every night on my orange backpacking Thermarest that was only long enough for me when I started using it at the age of 6. The nights that I have spent in previous years' backpacking trips lying awake cursing that thing are now long gone. Even crunched in the back of a station wagon sleeping like vampires, (all three of us with our arms crossed over our chests because there isn't enough shoulder room for three people) I awake feeling as satisfied as I would in my wonderful bed at home. It's amazing what you can adapt to.

So we're off to Melbourne now. The girls' birthdays, Feb 10th for Mel and 11th for Megan, will be celebrated at a Jens Lekman concert were attending. We'll see the opening ceremonies for the Olympics from somewhere in Australia, then Mel and I will head back to New Zealand for another leg of our trip. I have a very exciting visitor coming on the 18th of February, and near mid March Mel and I are thinking about heading up to the North Island where Danielle. We plan to get jobs (kiwi packaging plant?) to save money for a potential trip to SE Asia the month before we return home. It will be very sad to be doing all of these things without Megan and Lauren. I guess we'll just have to wait until our next grand adventure to all be reunited. Maybe a road trip around America this fall? I'm halfway convinced to pay whatever is necessary to ship Connie back to the States when I go. We all adore that little car.

Oz

We arrived in Byron Bay last night after an 8 hour drive up the coast, which included multiple kangaroo sightings and some awesome hitch hikers we became friends with. They are from Sydney (which we've fallen in love with), so when we go back in a week they have us all set up to stay at their house and go to their favorite restuarants, cafes, and bookshops. They also have a friend living in Seattle right now, so I'm excited to meet up with her when I get home. For those who don't know, this is coming much sooner than I'd thought, and I'll be back in your parts on the 15th of this month.

We dropped the boys (George and Jack) off at a train station yesterday, and they are heading home to England today. We spent a glorious five days with them here and are so glad we got this many chances to travel with them. A highlight was going to the Reptile Park, where we hugged kangaroos and pet koalas and anacondas. We even payed the 15 bucks to get our picture taken with a koala. Totally worth it. We also spent an entire afternoon at the beach, swimming in the warm water and burning our little butts to a crisp. By some miracle the two gingers barely burned at all, and us bronzed Americans got scorched.

As we got into Byron Bay last night, we drove up to the parking lot on the beach to a mystical sight of gentle waves lit up by the dropping sun, loads of surfers lined up for perfectly peeling waves, and drum beats drifting up from the rocks. Not to mention the abundance of babes lounging and wandering about. The air was warm and muggy, not much like New Zealand at all, and we sat watching the scene, quickly allowing ourselves to be sucked into it. We decided after a few minutes that we could stay here at least a week...we might have to rearrange our plans.

It still feels good to be on the road, believe it or not, letting the wind or the weather or an odd looking coin determine our direction. Our path is unkown, and this gives us joy. To think that my life on the road is coming to an end - my five month camping jaunt is about to become nostalgia instead of reality - is a complex thing to process. At times like this, I really feel like I could travel forever. Not to say that I'm not excited about getting home.. it actually feels like exactly the right place for me to be, and I have no hesitations about heading back. It will be nice to have a bed and a bit of stability. This was especially clear after our horrible nights sleep last night...

The heat and the humidity really got to us sleeping in the car. If we rolled down the windows, the mosquitos would sneak in, or an unexpected downpour would rain down out of nowhere. So we were stuck with each others' smelly, sweaty bodies, not appreciating the body heat of spooning in the slightest. At some point in the night, our unwanted company did sneak in, and it turned out that we only got a couple hours of sleep at most. Instead, we talked sporadically, knowing our companions were wide awake at any given point, and thrashed our hands around in the air every couple minutes to get the mosquitos away from our faces. It was the sort of thing where I'd just be drifting off to sleep, when I'd hear Christy's sleeping bag rustling around and her hands frantically slapping at the open air, out for death, or blood, or revenge, or all of the above.

The mosquitos are huge here - easily the size of my thumbnail - and filled with a frightening amount of blood. It was a satisfying moment, after I'd been chasing one of em around the car with my headlamp, to slap it against the back window and get instant silence from that incessant high pitched buzzing. I held my hand out to the girls, so they could see the nasty bugger and the thieved blood across my hand. If anyone has seen the youtube video of the kid yelling blood, it went a little like that. SLAP ... BLOOOOOD.

We are feeling quite ambitious at the moment, and are trying to make it up to the Great Barrier Reef AND down to Melbourne. Nobody thinks we can do it, but we are determined.

I'm sitting in my bedroom right now, listening to the Anstis family run around, plan the next weekend's adventures and rave about the 'massive swell' that's hitting on Sunday. Most important, however, is that I'm sitting in MY bedroom, on MY bed... because, it's true, I have a home now. It has been a while since my last post, but as you may have gathered, I'm not with the girls anymore. I ventured up to the North Island with my parents plus Leana, a friend from Arizona, and then ended up staying up here. Bought a Subaru Legacy (twin turbo, thank you very much) that has a mind of its own, but has managed to get me around. His name is Spike and, like Connie, allows me to escape into my own space. The girls mentioned they sit in the car and just chat for hours... a very similar thing happens with me in Spike. Except that it's not really chatting... just more like journal writing/reflection, etc. But yeah... I might occasionally talk to myself, as well..

Living with the Anstis family is wonderful. Les, Bronnie, Isaac, Heidi and Kate are each total characters, to say the least. Together, they create this one of a kind family that I feel blessed to be apart of, even for just a wee while. Isaac lives and works in Aukland, so right now it's just the girls and I holding down the fort, along with Les and Bronnie. Les is the CEO of a kiwi packaging company, an avid sportsman, loudly opinionated, and absolutely hilarious. Bronnie bikes to work (which in this country is quite a feat) can sew anything you want her to and is so soft-spoken that I often miss what she says. Heidi is 22, moving to the South Island to begin her accounting career, rocks at mountain biking, kite surfing, snow skiing, rock climbing.. everything.. and is probably one of the cutest people I know. Seriously. She blows my mind. And then Kate, who is 20... curly red hair, beautiful artist, studying psychology in Aukland, watches America's Next Top Model with me, and probably laughs louder AND more than most others. It's an experience, to say the least, staying with this family. I'm loving every minute of it.

They live in Tauranga, which is in the Bay of Plenty on the north end of the North Island. There's the occasional good wave around and a lot of rock climbing to be done, so I keep myself busy. Starting tomorrow, however, I become a real person because I... drumroll... Got a job!! Two of 'em!! Crazy. Tomorrow I start at an outdoor store that carries a lot of climbing gear and Wednesday I start at a sweet surf shop. It's actually one of my favorite shops that I've been to in the whole of NZ.. so i'm pretty stoked about the job. The shop is packed with boards from front to back and they are tempting me already... I have to keep reminding myself that I'm working to MAKE money... not spend it.

Being away from the girls has been hard at times, but it has been an absolutely amazing past couple months.. lots of adventures had and friends made. I hope to entice them on up to the North Island, where we might be able to reunite in Taranaki. We shall see. Until then, I'm stoked because I can talk to Lauren now! It just so happens that it is CHEAPER for me to talk to her in CA than it is for me to call her when she's in New Zealand. Go figure that one out...

A Series of Unfortunate Events

We were sitting in the car last night, already at our destination and house for the night, but content sitting in the front seat of Connie talking for over an hour. Really we are just sitting in our home, and the front seat is our living room. Mel stuck her tongue out, and Christy looked over at it curiously and said "Whoa. You have a really big tongue." Mel pulled it back in and responded, "I know. Sometimes I forget about it." That is how insignificant our conversations have become when we are within two feet of each other 80% of every day. But then we think about all we've done the past three or four days...

Let's start with the 12th and make our way to the present. We were driving along toward the Milford Sound, had crested the mountain and been going downhill for quite a while, calmly gazing out the windows at the majestic beauty and listening to Yann Tiersen, when I pushed down on the brake and felt nothing. Pushed down again, approaching panic mode, and still nothing to slow our moving bulk of stationwagon down the narrow winding road. I instantly shot into an adrenaline pumped altered consciousness and somehow slowed the car down enough to get it to stop, threw on the hazard flashers, and came back to reality. The boys in the car behind us pulled over to make sure we were okay, and we made complete fools of ourselves when we opened the hood to take a look. "Oh yeah, the coolant is just a little brown and chunky. Don't worry about that. Brake fluid? Let's see...where's the brake fluid... uhh.. I think we'll be okay boys. You go on ahead." Erg. Christy and Mel got back in to move the car off to the side and almost went flying down the road, but luckily Christy's marvelous reflexes reached for the emergency brake. It was most definitely an emergency.

Mel and I hitched a ride to town as Team Milford and the girls stayed to slow down traffic as Team Connie. We got a ride with a foxy repair man who dropped us off at the pay phones. For the next hour, we tried to call AA and roadside assistance, but the general consensus was that we were in the middle of NOWHERE, and without a real miracle we were out of luck. Great, Connie. Nice place to pick. The roadside assistance guy said he'd call me back at the pay phone (no cell service in the middle of nowhere), so I sat on the ground in there and began this entry. Mel arrived back after trying to find help around town and was on the phone with the tow service as I looked out the window of the phone booth and saw Connie herself roll into town. It took a few seconds to register before I slapped my palm against the glass, informing Mel that CONNIE was outside. "Okay ma'am, nevermind, looks like my car just drove into town." We ran to the girls, ecstatic that our afternoon would not be spent on the side of the road waiting to be towed to the two hour away next nearest town, and they told us their series of events. I'll let Christy take over from here.

It was just like Megan said. We're all cruising along, I was in the backseat, probably absent mindedly thinking about something as significant as how large Mel's tongue is, and was snapped into reality by Megan with a fair amount of panic in her voice saying the brakes had gone out. Let the games begin.

We decided to split into Team Connie, comprised of Roxy and I, and Team Milford, which was Megan and Mel. They took off with the repair man, my teammate and I walked a little up the road where we would attempt to warn oncoming drivers that just around the corner was our little car, with her large rear end taking up half of the lane. Turns out it's really hard to communicate "Connie is stalled out ahead. Please slow down so you don't smash into our only car and home," to someone speeding past you by using just your hands. Our best attempts were something like this: Point your left hand in the Commodore's direction. Make sure to not use your thumb lest someone thinks you're attempting to hitchhike from the least conducive pick up spot in the southland. With your right hand, make the universal slow down motion, while simultaneously mouthing s-l-o-w d-o-w-n. There was also the second message for cars that started to stop to make sure we were alright: a vigorous shaking of the head while making the traditional umpire "safe" motion followed by a smile and a thumbs up. We hoped the message they would get from this would be "We've already sent two people ahead, and are probably doing the best we can in the situation, so thanks so much, but you don't need to stop and help us. Enjoy your time in Milford Sound." I would love to hear what all the various interpretations of our hand signals were. We were also being EATEN by sandflies, the nasty little midges that swarm you leaving bites that itch like the dickens and last for days.

As I was walking back to Connie to get another round of bug repellent, a road work truck pulled over to see what the fuss was all about. Roxy explained the situation to Ian (our hero, you'll see) who very quickly determined that the brakes had probably just overheated and needed to cool down but offered to check Connie out anyway. "Oh! A Holden Commodore! She'll be alright!" I'm telling you, Kiwis LOVE Connie. He gave her a test drive, declared her fit for the road, and after making us promise to always downshift instead of using the brakes while going downhill, sent us off down the hill again with him and his buddy following behind, just to be nice. We reached a place where we were stopped by a flagger for road construction and Ian got out to have a chat with the worker. Roxy and I couldn't hear what was happening, but the two of them kept pointing to us. We made sure to politely wave when they looked our direction. Ian came over and said he wanted to make sure we could meet up with the girls so we could cancel the tow truck coming for us. What a nice guy, right? Apparently he had set the man with the radio to the task of figuring out where Team Milford had gone. He returned maybe one minute later and cheerfully told us that Megan and Mel were outside the cafeteria and gave us directions to there. I'm not sure I'll ever fully understand how it is that a road worker outside of Milford could get on the radio and find the location of two ordinary looking girls in one of the largest tourist destinations in the country, but he did. We gleefully (and slowly) drove down to the cafeteria. I will never in my life forget the look on Megan's face when she saw us from inside the phone booth. Roxy and I started screaming, she and Mel started screaming. Connie had done it. The Holden Commodore... yeah, she'll be alright for sure.

Alright, back to Megan.

People in this country are looking out for us. We are still unsure how and who knew we were there. After it all, we ended up spending the afternoon on a boat in the Sound, where we saw spectacular mountains rising straight from the sea and hundreds of waterfalls.

So. On to the next unfortunate event. Driving from Milford to the Catlins meant we got in pretty late, and as we were scoping out different sites to set up our tent, we embarrassingly got Connie stuck in the mud. Three of us had to get out and push her backwards down the slope, while a few amused campers listened to our shenanigans. At least they couldn't see us in the dark, unlike every car that drove past us on the side of the road on their way to Milford. Our tent poles also picked this time to break, but luckily Christy and Roxy were brilliant and strung them back together by hand. It started to rain as we were sleeping that night, getting louder over the course of a few hours until we realized we were all laying awake to a complete downpour on our not-so-waterproof tent. We woke up at 6, with our therm-a-rests/sleeping bags/clothing soaking wet. Roxy's pillow was the worst..we could ring the water out of it. We sat for at least 30 minutes in our tent puddle, half laughing and half drowning in self-pity, until we made ourselves go out into the storm and pack our drenched life into the back seat of Connie. We got a tiny little break in the rain and smiled about how everything works out, although I think that optimism might be a unique quality of our traveling team. By 6:30am, we were rolling out of the campsite. ...All right all right, so the truth is we were spinning our wheels in the mud with three girls pushing the back of the car, again. Christy got some supernatural burst of strength, similar to a mother lifting a car off her trapped child, and singlehandedly got Connie out of the mud, wearing just her underwear the entire time. I really hope someone else was watching from their tent window. It would be a shame for no one to have witnessed that, especially her legs covered in mud after it all. Hours later, we found a cafe that had opened and spewed our wet stuff all over the parking lot to dry.

Later that day (still January 14th) we left the cafe and, no joke, got a flat tire. It was NOT funny at the time, but is at least a little comical now. At that point we were on our way to Dunedin, where Roxy needed to be by 6:30 the next morning to make her flight. We were aiming to get to the city in time for Malaysian food, when we noticed a strange noise coming from Connie and a feeling of her lumping along. Sure enough, the back left tire was dead flat. Unfortunately for us, we had been irresponsible car owners and not patched our LAST flat tire from a few months ago, which wouldn't quite function as a spare in our new time of need. Totally guilty.

We called AA, for the second time in two days, but they said there was nothing they could do for us, seeing as we had adequate time (more than enough of it, actually) to patch the tire. So we called a private contractor, but they wanted to charge us 150 bucks. In a shining moment of brilliance, we realized we could take the flat from the spare compartment, hitch to the next town (Balclutha: 17 kms north), patch the tire, hitch back, and call AA again. Mel and I quickly gathered some things as Team Balclutha: cash, journals, books, a knife, a headlamp in case things got bad, rain jackets... and got picked up fairly quickly. We rolled the tire over and hoisted it and ourselves into the back of the truck. It turned out we had been picked up by the nicest family ever, and they dropped us off at the mechanic, got some groceries, came back and picked us up 20 minutes later, and helped us replace the tire. This was really fortunate for us, who would have been rolling our tire all around town trying to hitch a ride in a somewhat obscure direction. So Christy called and cancelled our AA assistance, also for the second time in two days.

The 15th was our day of errands. We got Connie all taken care of, and we got the bad news that the late Raspberry (the van we were trying to sell for a friend) had passed on. Engine seized, complete goner. We shopped around for different wreckers who might give us some money for the scraps, but it's been harder than we thought. We thought today might have been the end of our extreme streak of bad luck, but once again we were wrong. We drove out to the house in Waitati where we were house-sitting to pick up a few things we had left. On our way back into Dunedin, we picked up a couple 15 year old hitch hiking skater boys. Our rule is that they have to make us laugh to get a ride, tell us a joke or something. The poor boys looked too scared and frightened by us and our car packed to the roof that we let them in anyway, even though they couldn't come up with a single funny thing to tell us. They jammed themselves into the back seat, ducking under the surf board and sitting on top of a pile of books and bags, and we turned up the La Bouche tape we bought this afternoon. We mentioned that we wouldn't be surprised if we ran out of gas, but that would have to be a risk they were willing to take (half joking), but then we actually DID run out of gas. We pulled the car over, laughing hysterically and further terrifying the boys, and Christy and I jumped out to hitch into town: Team Dunedin. We got back to Connie in record time, and were glad to see that the boys had found another ride to town that was a little more reliable.

We sent Mel from Dunedin up to Wanaka as reinforcement for Lauren, who had been all by herself for far too long and was really craving a hug from Connie. Christy and I stayed behind to deal with Raspberry, and hitched to Wanaka the next day, about the equivalent of hitching from SLO to San Francisco. Ten rides later and a rescue phone call to the girls, they drove half an hour south and picked us up under a street lamp at 11pm, spooning on the gravel under a misty rain. We met some real characters on our way up.. a few sheep farmers, some travelers, various boys between the ages of 17 and 24, and even HELEN, our emergency contact from house-sitting in Waitati. This IS a small country.

To top it all off, I've been pretty sick for the last 9 days. I had the fever for quite a few of the days, and intestinal malfunction for all of them. It's hard being sick when you're living out of a car, but the girls are saints and have put up with me well. Especially Christy, who went around town to set up an appointment and took me to the doctor to get this all figured out.

So now we are at the Addington's in Christchurch, getting ready to take Lauren to the airport in a couple hours. It feels surreal that she is leaving this place, leaving our fam, leaving Connie. But I think there is a part of all of us that is a little jealous at the same time that she'll be home so soon and able to go to San Luis and see her family and sleep in her bed. In the end, four months will feel like nothing and then we'll all be home too. So we are hoping that our luck will shift back in the other direction now. I think our upcoming adventure to Australia will hold great things. We have already purchased outfits that we plan on wearing every day (Mel got some powder blue shorts that go up past her belly button. I got an 80s one piece swimswuit. Christy got a tropical floral garden print sports bra.) We are also traveling with George and Jack the first week we get there, so I don't see how anything could really go wrong. Famous last words, right?

Catching up

I wrote this quite a while ago, but figured I might as well post it now that we have internet so you can catch up on our adventures from January.

Hello everyone. We’ve been lax in posting, but here’s a recap of some of our best moments over the past week. To begin, Roxy, Christy and I had a fantastic New Years Eve in Christchurch. We got to town late after driving up from Dunedin and changed into dresses (and sparkly silver leggings), put on eye liner with our head lamps in the rear view mirror, threw on some belts and jewelry and made bets of a dollar on whoever could find someone to kiss for the countdown. Having only an hour until midnight, we had to get moving quick.

Our first stop was the cathedral square, where an outdoor concert was going on. Highlights were 500 miles and Cotton Eyed Joe, and lots of hand clapping. We wandered on over to Sol Square, and on the walk there met some boys we would proceed to spend the entire rest of the night with. I think they were mentioned earlier in Lauren’s post… in our defense, a few of them were 20, and age is fluid anyway, right? So there was Gus, an adorable blonde curly haired boy; Hamish, soon to fall hard for Roxy; Brad, a mature and friendly Australian; and Sam, drunk. Plain drunk and apparently a 19 year old pilot. It’s a terrifying thought. We went up to Fat Eddies with the boys and Rox won that dollar, fair and square, by planting a fat kiss on Hamish at the stroke of midnight. The band at the place was absolutely ridiculous, playing covers of everything from Third Eye Blind to Greenday, a real blast from our junior high past. We tried to teach our little tenderonis how to dance with girls, which mostly ended in failed attempts at spinning (usually in the wrong direction), stepping on feet, and awkwardly getting hit in the head by a flailing arm. Regardless, it was one of the cuter things I’ve seen watching Brad try to dance with Christy. From Fat Eddies we went to Boogie Nights, which without fail plays the exact same set list every night. The floor was disgustingly sticky to the point of disrupting our dancing… We couldn't move our feet at all without some real ambition and kind of just swayed from side to side. As Roxy pointed out, someone probably could have pushed her and she would have just fallen over.

At the end of the night, the boys serendipitously parked about 10 cars away from us on the same block, so we all walked together. Brad gave us his best mate’s number in Australia and made sure to let us know we could stay in any of his 15 houses. Awesome. We crawled into our cozy little beds in Connie and slept for a solid three hours until the sun rose and came blasting down on us. We grumpily rolled out of the car with our pillows and slept on the grass in the park for a while, even with Asian tourists walking over and around us. As we were packing up our stuff, a couple cops came up on bikes and asked what we were doing. Christy used the tried and true method of not actually admitting to anything. That way she was neither lying nor telling the truth. “Did you camp here last night?” Christy: “Would it be a bad thing if I said yes?” In the end, they thought we were kind of funny and just warned us for the future that no camping is allowed there. Yes sir, officer. No fishing allowed in the park either? You got it.

We’ve been in Nelson for four days now, soaking up the sun and enjoying the ocean. George and Jack met up with us here (we have had far too many fake goodbyes with them) and we talked them into staying with us for a few days. We went out one night in town, although try as we might, George was having none of it. We must have spent two hours arguing with him and trying to convince him that he would have a good time if he came out, all to completely stump the psychology majors. He definitely won in stubbornness, which is not an easy feat with Christy and I. Our pride was badly damaged. However, we did have a fantastic time with Jack. Somehow our first stop ended up being a strip club called the Dollhouse. We had just decided in the car to adopt a policy of brutal honesty with Jack, because we missed out on spending Christmas together, so when we stepped out of the car and asked where Jack wanted to go, he naturally suggested a strip club. We obliged, as Roxy and I had never been to a strip club before and it was free entry before midnight. The highlight was definitely when one of the strippers came off stage and kicked a girl out, then got so upset that she walked up to the manager and quit on the spot. Probably the best thing anyone could hope for out of that experience. The rest of the night consisted of dancing and pool playing, much more mellow. When we got home we tried to teach Jack how to floss (he had NEVER flossed before), as he spilled all the boys’ secrets, while George laid on the floor with his hands over his face, horrified at his brother.

The following day we all went to a jazz/blues festival at a vineyard and came home to an afternoon of absolute silliness. We ran down the property and were promptly engaged in a game of tag, which lasted only until we noticed the canoe near the water. We disregarded the three person or 570 lb limit, and the five of us kicked our shoes off and launched ourselves out into the inlet. Once we realized how tippy our little vessel was, we made sure to put phones and cameras on shore. I’m already on my second phone of the trip from dropping it in the water. It turned out to be a smart idea, because four minutes later we capsized into the murky abyss. Luckily, all those years of American summer camp taught us girls how to clear a canoe of water, and we all plopped back in for round two, soaking wet in our jeans and t-shirts. Not long after, we were swimming again in knee-deep water and sliding along the silty slippery clay floor of the inlet. George and Roxy, the older siblings, abandoned us in the middle of the water for some serious canoeing action, while Jack Christy and I sat on our butts and sang songs, gave each other mud spa treatments and war paint on our faces, piled silt onto each others’ heads to make different comb-over hairstyles, and used our hands to crawl our way toward the distant canoe. Jack turned to us, looking thoughtful with his prosthetic mud nose, and said “You lot aren’t like normal lasses, are you.” I suppose not. After dinner, we spent hours playing bullshit, spoons, Taiwanese snap, and scabby queen. Get ready for us to bring some GREAT new card games home.

Saying goodbye to them (for the 3^rd? 4^th time?) was achingly sad, although our fates seem to be inextricably intertwined. We’ve very nearly talked them into visiting us in America, and Christy and I are sold on making a trip to the village. I think Mom and Dad would have been happy if they’d jumped on board and joined us for the whole rest of the trip.

We bought tickets to Australia and are leaving on the 29^th of January. AND officially changed our return flight to May 18^th, so you all can expect our smiling faces at the SF airport then.

Confessions

January 10^th 2010

Reporting here from Wanaka New Zealand. I feel more alone than ever. I am reading Steinbeck’s Travels with Charlie and the way he describes it is brilliant and rings true. Being alone takes some getting used to. The day I actually leave this country and my four comrades is going to be the beginning of a rough and hard transition. I was on the phone with Danielle yesterday discussing how being away from the clan is harder than we ever would have thought (as we are usually quite independent females). We became this weird moving, traveling family organism that thinks on the same wavelength, so when you leave it, it’s like you go through withdrawals, or you have to figure out who you are and what you want, instead of every decision being one that affects four or five other individuals. The reverse is a hard transition as well. Mel and Christy will testify to this. Communal decision-making can be a little overwhelming at first--deciding whether to buy the cheap peanut butter or the expensive peanut butter, two bell peppers or one—we know what and how much to buy for our little family, and we also know when to let someone just get whatever they want, no questions asked, because when you have NO personal space, almost no individuality, sometimes you just want that particular type of cookie and you don’t want five other people asking why you want it. When this happens we look at each other and say “It’s my thing,” meaning, “Don’t ask, just let me get this one thing, I need it for my sanity,” eventually each girl notices the odd item in the grocery cart and before they can say “what’s this for?” one of us simply says, “It’s her thing,” and we all nod and understand.

 

Yesterday, Meg and her parents, Christy, Roxy, Mel, and I were all in the same town, even under the same roof. Scott and Diane are flying out of Dunedin today, and Roxy flies out next week. So the clan was going to drive three hours east to Dunedin, drop the parents off at the airport than head south with Roxy for some adventures in the  Fiordlands. Then, after Roxy leaves this Friday we all planned to head back here to Wanaka for a week of climbing. And last minute, I decided that this plan was not for me. I have no desire to drive anymore. I just want to be for awhile, somewhere. So, I gave our dear friend George a call. He was on his way to Wanaka and needed a climbing partner. I loaded up my backpack with all the essentials, my Keens, some clothes, toothbrush, and a sleeping bag, threw some food rations into my Cal Poly Organic Farm tote bag (thanks Trev), waved my dear family goodbye, and sat at a couple cafés and various curbs for about five hours waiting for George.

This five-hour limbo period was a low point for me. Which brings me to the saddest point of this post. I am leaving this beloved country in two weeks. Yep, for reals. Today is day number 98 of my homeless extravaganza and I feel like it is an experience I am going to reflect on and dream about for the rest of my life. Reasons for going home are mostly monetary. We thought we were going to be on the road for a month, maybe two, which has stretched to four and nobody looks like they are trading life with Connie for anything normal and stationary anytime soon. So, my life as a vagabond is coming to a close on January 23^rd at 3:45pm. I feel that my nomadic days are far from over, but this chapter is, and it’s going to be something hard to get used to.

For the past few weeks, I have been trying to set some things up for me to go home to, housing, a job etc. I thought that the housing thing was something I could totally nail into stone. But yesterday, during my time on the curb, I found out that all such plans fell through. This new bit of information threw me into quite the pity-party. I felt like a five year old that should be able to throw a fit, make a few phone calls and get what I want. And since I am a million miles away, the phone-call making is expensive and  all the temper tantrums won’t get me something constant to hold onto when I get back, such is life, and this annoys me. Growing up has its perks but really it sort of blows. So I sulked on the curb, cursing the Pacific Ocean for making my life so difficult, and my 70 pound pack for making it impossible for me to stand up without holding onto something. And the truth is that things haven’t been so easy for me here for more than monetary reasons. I have gone through some real hard family ish while in this hemisphere. All of which I will be sorting through and unpacking for months, years to come, and perhaps my hopes for something as small as housing meant much more to me because I just wanted something to hold onto in the midst of life feeling so uncertain around me. So, I bought myself an incredible chocolate cookie from my favorite place in Wanaka, the Cinema Paradiso Café, and resumed my wonderful book. Thank God for Steinbeck, his brilliant writing, and sugar.

So, now I don’t know what to do. I would like to go back to SLO because as I’ve been away it seems to be  the perfect place to surf, learn to climb, volunteer, get involved with the community, and be overly happy. But then, now that housing isn’t a definite there, it makes me think of all the possibilities. Perhaps I should move to Yosemite for a few months? I could definitely learn to climb there. But this place is the keeper of my childhood experiences, and we all know that we are often too critical of where we grew up…

I am mildly obsessed with Portland, so perhaps I should go straight there? I was thinking that this move would happen a little later, sixth months, a year, two years, when Megan would move with me etc. But why not? Or maybe I should live at home with my family in the Bay Area and work in the uber-cool town of Berkeley, work at the Berkeley Bowl? Stalk Alice Waters? Yes and yes.

Any thoughts, suggestions, ideas?

Maybe I should just save some money and move to France with Kendra? Spain with Jessie?

So this is where I am at. I would like to be enjoying the present. I actually feel like I am enjoying the present and I will be readily enjoying it in an hour when George picks me up to go climb. But, as I am human, it is hard to not be consumed by the unknown of the future sometimes. I hate that.

Something awesome—the boys I wrote about earlier who have the bike kitchen in Dunedin, well, Rory, one of them invited us to his parents holiday house in Wanaka this last week. Mel and I camped on their lawn for a few days. And when I decided to stay here in Wanaka, I went back to the house, knocked on the door and was welcomed back in. The hospitality of this country is entirely inspiring. I have a lot of paying it forward to do when I am back in the states. So if any of you are ever traveling in my direction, you must stop and stay with me. I will take care of you.

The family cabin is wonderful and feels like the ones up by Tahoe or any of our mountain lakes. I am staying in a room with Rory’s super cool sister, Shelley, who is my age, and has just graduated from art school. We are reading books and lounging around. I am trying to convince her to give climbing a try today.

 

(A family dinner with the Hardings)

Rory’s mom, Chris, is a baller cook, and every meal is a party in the kitchen. I find my joy chopping vegetables and doing dishes. It makes me not feel like such a mooch. Fraser, Rory’s dad, likes his espresso and bought himself a wonderful espresso machine as a birthday present to himself a few years back. So I get to have fun making lattes for people and surprising them with some amateur latte art.

All to say, that all is well. I’ll write more about the future climbing experiences. And in only a few days time, I will be in your hemisphere, back where cell phones are cheap and Trader Joe’s is not a myth.

January 14, 2010

I am out of the depths of despair. Actually I came out realizing that I was in New Zealand, which, despite it’s proximity to the Antarctic is a far cry from anything miserable. I am still hanging out at 130 Beacon Point Rd with the Harding family. It’s just Rory’s sister Leigh and I and her parents these days. And I don’t really know how to express how much I love this family. I can’t believe how much they have made me feel welcomed and a part of the fam.

For the past two days I have gotten up early to drink my coffee with Fraser as he does his morning crossword puzzle and I read a book. About fifteen minutes later my new kiwi mum waltzes down the spiral staircase in this little bathrobe only to invite me on either a mountain bike ride or a hike. Secretly, I hate rushing my mornings, but I say yes every time and when I’m riding a bike through the new morning air I never regret the decision. Two days ago we rode along the pristine and gorgeous Clutha and Cardrona rivers.  Yesterday we hiked Mt. Iron. We come home around 12:30 tired and hungry and make a great lunch to eat with Fraser and Leigh. It’s so fun to convene in the middle of the day around the table and discuss the morning adventures and our anticipation for the afternoon. Yesterday we toasted fresh ciabata  bread, made beautiful sandwiches, and played a game of 500 (the kiwi classic card game that Fraser is teaching me).

After lunch, I do the dishes and get ready to go climb with George. He usually shows up around 1:15 and we head off to a new wall. George is a much better climber than I am so it’s been great to be really challenged by the climbs that we do. And because there’s only two of us, I’m getting tons of practice. I wake up every morning with my entire body aching and me thinking I hope Chris doesn’t want to hike today. But she always does and I never regret going. And so my life in Wanaka goes...

Today is a little different. Leigh and I have spent the morning reading books and trading music. Wanaka has been good for my reading. (Perhaps it’s the fact that I haven’t had any internet to distract me and I haven’t spent miles traveling on the road).  Since I graduated I had only finished one books before two weeks ago. This is embarrassing, especially since the book was Harry Potter book one. Yep. Oh man. In the last sixth months I’ve probably started 8 books, gotten a quarter of the way done and then lost interest. Which is absurd because most of them I know will be good books. It’s just me and my impatience or perhaps distracted mind. But I got sucked into The Alchemist, which is such an easy and good read. It put me back in the mode, and I have kept my book choices small and accessible. This past week I finished Steinbeck’s Travel’s with Charlie (which was GREAT). Yesterday I finished his small novel about a Nazi occupation called The Moon is Down, and once again Steinbeck did not disappoint. I am excited to read East of Eden when I get home as I’ve heard it’s one of the best and now that I am in a Steinbeck mode, it’s seems to be the next thing to do. For now I am working on Spirits Rebelious, a book the Megan traded for with her Dharma Bums. We’ll see how it goes. It’s another short read, so it will make me feel real good about myself and all the books I am finally finishing.

January 20, 2010

The girls are back in town! My time with the Harding’s ended with some really good hugs and promises to know each other and keep in touch for forever.

I’m so happy to be with my real fam however. We have set up camp on the banks of the Clutha river, and might I just say we have some prime time real estate. It’s gorgeous, smells like the Sierra Nevadas, and only costs six bucks a night.

The girls had a hell of a time getting here however (Hitching for ten hours…yikes on bikes). And I am sure they will write a wonderful post about the adventure.

As for now, we are happy as larks in our new found home on the river. We are climbing everyday, making good food on our campstove, and are happy to be together.

Danielle is having crazy adventures on the North Island that I can’t wait for her to post about. Rafting down the Wanganui River, surf trips to the Coromandel Penninsula etc…

So, I have three days left!!! Ah! I don’t know what to do with myself, except to enjoy every last moment.

Last night, Christy, Mel, and I went on a night walk along the river. The moon was out and the night felt something like San Luis in the summer—perfect. We were discussing all the things we have learned on this trip and the dreams we have for the future (buying a piece of property in the middle of nowhere on a river where we can place our 1970’s caravans and build an outdoor kitchen etc…). We walked until we found this old river dock that jutted out into the water. So we sat there for a good twenty minutes with our feet dangling over the Clutha’s great current. I think the moment will be branded on my memory for years to come. And the various dreams we have stirred up, probably won’t happen for a few years, but give us some time, and we’ll make it happen.

Much love from down under,

Lauren

 

POST BY MOM AND DAD MARTIN!

My lovely parents departed from New Zealand last week and have written a blog post about their time here with us:

OK, where do I start regarding a blog post for our NZ trip? Great flight in and a nice small airport in Dunedin greeted by a contingent of American beauties (Earth Goddesses as we later determined - not “Hippie girls”), who were to be our amazing guides for the next 2 weeks. Our Toyota Rav-4 (the Shark) was a great choice for a rental car as it turned out, since we had to ford multiple creeks on our drive up to the trailhead for Rob Roy glacier.

We pretty much travelled all the way up the East Coast and then back down the West Coast. There are no shoulders on the roads and no guard rails most places. Apparently they believe in Social Darwinism. If you’re an idiot you don’t survive to wreck the gene pool. Perhaps these are the sort of things that led to the billboard with a dead guy on a gurney with a ticket hanging off his toe and the caption: “TRAFFIC TICKET." And speaking of traffic tickets we got one (Scott was speeding). The cop was just so damn nice too! He was probably smiling because he was squeezing some dough out of a tourist, but it sure seemed like he was just smiling because he was a nice guy. Asked me if I wanted to see the radar too. No, officer, I believe you that I was going 116KM/HR. I will take my medicine ($120). You have to pay online or they might not let you pass customs on the way out of the country.

Absolutely love the Kiwi sense of humor. Starting with the Air New Zealand safety video “The Bare Essentials of Safety” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-Mq9HAE62Y. I mean these people are naked! Look close. It’s so much fun talking to the Kiwis and learning the lingo. At the grocery store you don’t use carts-you use trolleys. It's a car-park, not a parking lot. You go tramping, not hiking. Then when you get home to make your vegetarian dinner, it’s time to go out and pick up the eggs your chooks have laid and whip up a fried egg sandwich with fresh avocado (the only thing that’s cheap in NZed). It’s really hard to stay vegetarian in NZed though, because the streaky-bacon is just too damn good! Their bacon hardly has any fat and since everyone has chooks, eggs are everywhere and so what can you do.

Everyone also has woodstoves in NZ, which was great because we love woodstoves. Not so much central heat and very little insulation or thermopane windows, so it’s no wonder there are so many sheep-they need a lot of warm clothes. We saw thousands and thousands of sheep. Not too many horses (surprisingly), but tons of sheep and cows. They also recycle everything, especially building materials-sinks, faucets, old windows, everything gets re-used.

The tramping was fabulous. Diane loved the steps that went up and over the fences instead of having to open gates. Our first hike was Mt. Fyffe in Kaikoura which was beautiful with views of pastures and paddocks all around. Second hike was in Abel Tasman out of Nelson at the north end. Absolutely spectacular beaches and it was one of the best hikes ever. The girls jumped in the ocean and swam around, but it was a little chilly for us, plus we did not bring bathing suits, but an absolutely beautiful spot, whether you wanted to swim or not. We were in Nelson three days and played tennis every day, fed the chickens and the girls took mudbaths when the tide was out.

A highlight was spending time with the boys from England, Jack and George. They taught us to play the card game “Scabby Queen” and let me tell you, the tension runs high and it is an absolute abomination to get stuck with her. We also played Taiwanese Snap which was awesome-just a few minor hand injuries with that game. A little cribbage was played and Christy is totally hardcore now, so don’t let your attention lapse or she will be all about taking your leftover points.

On to Hokitika and huge rainstorms with so much standing water on the road that Connie took hydroplaning to a new level - we thought the girls were going to be off the road for sure, but Connie, being a yacht, handled it no problem and slewed back onto the pavement at the last second. There was so much water on the road in many places that only one car could pass at a time. Again, we sure were glad to have the 4WD rig. Finally got to Lake Hawea through a howling windstorm, which fortunately abated soon after we got there. We drove by the public park and there were a couple dads doing cricket drills with their kids so I ran over to see what the hell cricket was about. As always they were so nice to explain everything to me and then they invited us to go water skiing the next day. It’s just how people are there. Wanaka is just down the road and that is one of the favorite places for the girls as it is a jump-off point (pun intended) for their rock climbing adventures. We didn’t get to watch them rock climb which is probably just as well, but from Wanaka they took us on an epic tramp up to the Rob Roy glacier.

Scott: “Are you girls SURE we can drive through these creeks to get to the trail head?”
Girls: “Sure, we made it no problem just the other day”.
Scott: “OK, but I’m getting out to check before I drive through the creekbed and get stuck and we don’t even have a shovel”.
Girls (annoyed): “OK, old man, but you’re just slowing us down, let’s get going!”

No they didn’t really say that, but I know they were thinking it…we watched a couple other rigs go through and then proceeded and it was great fun, even though I was nervous about getting the rental car stuck and having to track down some farmer to pull us out, because there sure as hell are no tow trucks way up there. Then the hike! It was just spectacular. The suspension footbridge must have been 100’ above the raging river below and rickety pretty much describes it. You gotta walk fast but smooth or it starts bouncing around. That was the crux of the route for me-I don’t like heights. Diane did OK on that but she didn’t like the 12” wide slippery, muddy spot where if you slipped it would be a long tumble down to the river and certain death. That part was OK for me. Good thing we are both scared of different things so we can help each other out. Finally got all the way to the top and what a view! Without a doubt the best, scariest, and most beautiful tramp we have ever been on. It’s got us all motivated to hike more in Washington now.

Anyway, it was the trip of a lifetime for us and we have already contacted a lawyer and filed for joint custody of Christy, Roxy, Mel, Lauren, George, and Jack. Danielle we already consider part of the family even though we didn’t get to see her-apparently she has been severely distracted by some kid named Ben.

Thanks girls! After 2 weeks I’m usually ready to be “leavin’ on a jet plane”, but this time I actually was not ready to come home and even when we got home I wasn’t ready to be home. I think 4 weeks would have been waaaay better, but maybe next time. So after a teary farewell and a serenade from the girls at the airport, we had plenty of time to reflect on how thankful we are for Megan and her brilliant traveling mates. We love them and are bursting with pride (and envy) of the adventuresome life they lead. Now we still have the North Island to go…

You’re tuned in to Radio Waitati!

Greetings to all our loyal listeners! Deej Mel here. In T minus 2 hours ms.cook and I will depart from Foggy Watati (funny thing is, we have yet to see a trace of fog in the past two and a half weeks here). It will be a tearful goodbye to our lovely Goddess Compound. I don't know if we'll ever be able to convey how amazing this place is.

The past few days have been quite hectic. On Saturday we actually left the house, and went on a cycling adventure. The Wilson’s have two bikes, one being a sweet beach cruiser. About 5 minutes into our ride, a car driving past quickly reversed once it saw us. The interaction went as follows:

“Hold on a second- are you Tace? Thought I recognized the bike” Before we could manage a “No, we’re just house sitting for her” He was rummaging in the back of his car for, of course, a lambskin seat cover for the exact bike I was riding. Only in Waitati.

The other main event of our bike ride was on the way back. Lauren and I had just finished swapping embarrassing bike stories (falling off our bikes, having to walk up a hill when newly met hotties were biking us home), when we encountered the biggest hill of the ride. The house next to the road was hosting a party outside with the only other people in our age group in Waitati. They got to witness us, in the prime of our youth, do the walk of shame up the hill. In addition, because we hadn't seen humanity in days, I was wearing my Christmas outfit and Lauren was wearing an odd mismatch of all green. We hope they got a laugh out of it.

The breaking news on Saturday night was the power outage at midnight. Power outages are fine until you look out and see that everyone elses power in the neighborhood is still on. I was convinced that someone had cut our lines and was now in the house waiting to make lamp shades out of us. Then I remembered we were in Waitati. Another peaceful night’s sleep.

Yesterday was another big day. We took a trip into town (a concept that is still foreign to us), and Lauren got her first hitch hiking experience under her belt. We went on a 4 hour journey around town, covering most of Dunedin. On our way out we visited the garden of our new friends, which was quite inspiring. We have been taking notes lately on ideas for our future homes, gardens, and lifestyles.

Today we depart Waitati for Wanaka. We will be meeting up with Megan, her parents, Christy and Roxy, Sarah Brooke and Keith, Simon and the boys from Dunedin and potentially a couple who gave us a lift into town. Somehow we know twelve people who will be in the same town in New Zealand…

Aaaand that's all we have for you here at Radio Waitati! Thanks for listening.

Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

We welcome you all to a  glorious twenty-ten. We've enjoyed January first and are steadily approaching January 2nd in t-minus two hours and 38 minutes. 

Our New Years Celebrations were diverse as our clan is a bit scattered at the moment. Melanie and I are holding down the fort still in Waitati at the incredible home we've been housesitting for the past two weeks. We had a mellow New Years. The girls have Connie, so we laid low, made a fire, ate artichokes from the garden, made a vegan/gluten-free dessert, and drank a bottle of champagne with our new friend Simon (a local Dunedin-ite who is passionate about bikes, creating a bike friendly community, getting everyone to ride bikes, and spreading love through the creation of organic community gardens--a pretty cool cat). Mel and I brought in the New Year screaming "Rabbit Rabbit Rabbit" and the banging of pots and pans. 

Our dear cougars, Megan, Christy, and Roxy boogied up to the big city of Christchurch for a New Years extravaganza, which I hope they will someday write about. All I know is that they danced the night away at Sol Square and the infamous Boogie Nights with a group of 19 year-old-hotties...

We tried to call Danielle a bunch last night but were unable to get a hold of her. This probably means that she was having the time of her life somewhere on the North Island and had no chance to answer her cell phone. I miss her and wish that she was not on the other isle! So, Danielle, if you're reading this, we all would like to know what you did for New Years. 

Megan's lovely parents, Scott and Diane Martin spent New Years at a bed and breakfast in Kaikoura. I'm sure they're being blown away by the awe inspiring mountains meeting the sea, and that they felt Kaikoura to be the perfect place to ring in the new decade.

Danielle's parents, Ron and Brenda, left this paradise just before the New Year, and are celebrating it with all you peeps on the Northern Hemisphere. (You all should email them about their trip, because I am fairly positive they will convince everyone to come).

I think that's everyone...

Now, Mel and I are seriously chillin' in Waitati. We have a few more days of car-less bliss, miles from town, reading books, journaling, and eating artichokes...

So, with that, we just want to wish you all a happy happy New Year. This next year is looking pretty wonderful. 

(Roxy's here!)

(cooking in Waitati with the Martins)

(A pretty spectacular day on the Otago Penninsula)

(The Martin Fam, missing Tyler, and Heather, of course).