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.
Monday, March 15, 2010
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.. :)
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.. :)
Friday, March 5, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, January 25, 2010
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...
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...
Friday, January 22, 2010
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?
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?
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