Camping, Tramping, Swimming, Flying

Note: Pictures from this post can be viewed in the album titled, “New Zealand: 6-Day CS Weekend.” My skydiving pictures can be found by going to www.nzone.biz, then clicking on the “Daily Photos” link, then entering this code (cut and paste it): NZRO102018886714. You should then click on “View Your eStory.” It’s a slow load but the best I can do until I can save the pictures into Picasa! Enjoy!

• Friday, 28 Jan: Packed bags, cleaned guest room, got a ride into town with Jane and Craig, said good-bye at the bus stop; waited one hour for slightly late bus; met two nice older women, sisters, at the stop and chatted with them; four hours to Taupo; at i-Site, met another girl who was going to the same backpacker (A+); got a ride to the campsite from A+ employee; only one small group of couchsurfers there: Catherine (Gisborne), Franko (Chile) and Gino (Malaysia); Cathy welcomed me with a hug, offered me a spot in her tent, which I helped set up; we went to visit Johanna, an older CSer who lives in Turangi; grocery shopped; more people flowed in as night fell; huge crowd, of over 100 couchsurfers! Cooked huge batch of spaghetti for dinner; to bed at 11:30pm; rained all night!
• Saturday, 29 Jan: Hiked around lake Rotopaunamu (~2 hours); visited hot springs, Taupo and a huge dam; almost went skydiving, canceled due to winds; dinner of steak, salad, garlic bread, mushrooms: yum! To bed around midnight.
• Sunday, 30 Jan: Up very early; made lunches for five people, packed bag and hopped in the car; Tongariro Crossing hike, 19.5 km, mix of weather between cool, sunny, windy; feet killed by the end; went to hot pool to soak, not hot enough; ate fish and chips on the way back to camp.
• Monday, 31 Jan: Packed everything up; drove to Huka Falls, then Taupo for lunch; drove to Kerosene Creek to soak in a hot river and falls; then to Rotorua to visit the thermal park; group split from there, with fifteen of us staying in town; Domino’s for dinner; all ended up at Gabriel’s, a local couchsurfer; chill evening of music, cards, chatting, laughing; slept on air mattress with a German and an Australian; all in one big rec room.
• Tuesday, 1 Feb: Awoke with everyone else; granola bar and orange for breakfast; caught a ride into town center with group going white water rafting; signed up at i-Site for skydiving; walked down to lake, ate lunch, soaked in sun; NZone van picked me up and took me to the airfield, where I signed paperwork, met my tandem dive partner Paul and cameraman Tony, suited up and waited for the plane; skydived from 12,000 feet and didn’t come down from it for hours; briefly visited Rotorua Museum; met up with rafters and hung out for awhile downtown; went to Gabriel’s friends house for a BBQ; slept for a few hours at Gabriel’s.
• Wednesday, 2 Feb: Up at 5am, piled into Thomas’s car with three others, headed for Thames; stopped at Kauaeranga Valley to take ice cold swim, jumped off rocks; had breakfast with everyone in Thames; visited i-Site, decided to stay the day and night to relax; checked into a mixed dorm backpacker, did laundry, grocery shopped, went to library for free wi-fi and caught up; watched a little tv, took a walk and finally went to sleep around 10pm.

 

Looking out the window as the volcanic and geothermal landscape below receded, I blinked when Paul, my skydive instructor, shouted in my ear.

“Do me a favor, baby, and scoot your ass back as far as you can.” I did as I was told, wiggling backwards along the floor so that I was wedged firmly between his legs. He began fiddling with clasps and buckles, pulling me more snugly against him.

No, this wasn’t some kind of kinky hookup. This was my first time skydiving.

Tony, the cameraman, was sitting facing me, legs awkwardly folded so as not to kick me. He held out his wristwatch to me and pointed at it: “10,500” showed on it and I understood that this was our elevation. Paul, meanwhile, tugged me back even further so that our connected harnesses were snug. He reached around my waist and tugged a few straps a bit tighter, had me try on my skull cap and protective eye gear, then pointed out the window of the door – just a foot from my face - to point out some landmarks of the Rotorua scenery spread out below us: volcanoes, lakes, ocean, thermal areas, small towns.

We were all seated on the floor of a small single-prop plane. There were five of us, including another jumper and his strapped-on instructor. We took up most of the room in the plane. I pondered for a moment, deciding that I didn’t feel an ounce of nervousness or fear. Ever since that morning, when I had woken up on the floor of a stranger’s house, noticed the beautiful weather, cloudless skies and calm winds, and decided that today I would jump out of a plane, I had felt only excitement and a sense of adventurous anticipation. It was one of many spur-of-the-moment decisions I’d made during that long weekend.

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The previous Friday, I had arrived in Turangi on a bus, planning to join the crowd of Couchsurfers planning to do the Tongariro Crossing. There was to be camping, BBQing, exploring of the region and general social fun. I had no tent or sleeping bag, but had decided to just show up and find somewhere to sleep. I showed up at the designated backpacker early in the afternoon to find that only three other surfers were there, setting up a single large tent. I went over and said hello, upon which Catherine, a native New Zealander, gave me a hug, greeted me and introduced herself and Franco, from Chile, and Jeno, from Malaysia. Within minutes I was invited to stay in their tent and was busy helping erect the thing and stake it down.

By that evening, we had gone to visit the lone Couchsurfer hostess in Turangi, Johanna, an older Dutch woman full of friendliness, food offerings and ideas for the weekend. We had also gone grocery shopping, buying food for dinner (fancy spaghetti, salad, etc) and lunches for the next few days (sandwich materials), along with drinks for those who wanted them. People from around the world trickled into the campsite all day and all night, pitching tents or asking around for a sleeping spot. By 10pm, the living area of the backpacker was crammed full with the international crowd, everyone introducing themselves and meeting everyone else. Kirin, the organizer of the event, made his announcements and talked us through how the weekend would go. Because the weather was forecasted to be rainy and windy the next day, we delayed doing the Tongariro Crossing and decided to do a local hike and visit Taupo instead.

On Saturday morning, after a night of torrential and constant rain, soggy campers made breakfasts and prepared for the day. My best estimate was that there were about a hundred of us at the backpacker in tents and rooms, and another thirty or forty at Johanna’s or another Couchsurfer’s bach (vacation cabin) and around town. Carpooling was a major event, and things moved slowly, but eventually we got to XXXX Lake. I was especially unprepared, having somehow thought we were visiting a lake and a town, when in reality we were doing a two-hour hike and then going to Taupo for lunch and a few short walks, swimming and sight-seeing. I had on my Teva’s and a t-shirt, with no jacket. Our hike started off wet and chilly, so I was worried, but after awhile we warmed up and the rain stopped. Some brave souls went into the water, even! After the hike, we headed for Taupo and lunch. For the rest of the day we visited rivers and waterfalls and a hot water area next to the Waitau River – a wonderfully warm nook next to a refreshingly cold, high current river. That night, we barbecued.

The day of the crossing started early: Sunday morning everyone was up and eating breakfast and making lunch, in their cars and ready to go by about 7:30am. The hike itself  was a long 19.4 kilometers through old volcanic craters, rugged and rocky landscapes, beautiful lakes of various hues, a lush valley on the way down and a woodsy area at the very end. Throughout the day our group stretched before and behind me, a long line of like-minded travelers enjoying a new experience and each other’s company. We stopped several times, once to learn part of a Haka dance taught by a Maori Couchsurfer, another time to regroup and take a picture. We ran into a small band of costumed hikers who had styrofoam swords, a ring, capes and wigs.

I was exhausted by the end of the seven hours of hiking, my feet throbbing in my not-quite-right boots. It was a relief to sit in the hot pool where we all carpooled to afterwards. I admit to pigging out on fish and chips that night, and perhaps a bottle of hard cider before falling dead asleep in the tent alongside the others.

The next day there were groans heard across the campsite as people clambered to their sore legs and crammed tired feet into shoes. Checkout time was 10am and the backpacker management was probably very glad to see us go. Our numbers dwindled as cars departed for homes across the country, getting back to family and work and responsibilities. Still, many of us carpooled to Rotorua, taking in some sights along the way such as bubbling mud pools, waterfalls and thermal parks. Up until then, I had been catching rides with Catherine, but now she had to go back to Gisborne, taking Franco with her. I decided I would stay in Rotorua for the night and found that Maia, an Australian street performer, was thinking of doing the same.

We were hoping someone would give us a ride into the center of town and sure enough, Thomas, the Maori who had attempted teaching us the Haka, had space for two in his car. Two vans and Thomas drove into town and we separated into small groups to find dinners. I had pizza with Buffy, a Canadian guitar player; Stig, a Scottish furniture maker; Max, a German mountain biker; and Maia. When the three vehicles regrouped, the name Gabriel started to float around. Several people had arranged to sleep at this Brazilian Couchsurfer’s home, there in Rotorua. Thomas had an uncle in the area, as well, at whose home five of us could crash. This was where Maia and I decided we’d go. There were fifteen of us total and we decided to all head to Gabriel’s to hang out before heading our separate ways.

It was a wonderfully long night of relaxing. Gabriel’s fantastic house had a huge rec room that fit all fifteen of us comfortably. We had brought drinks and snacks, guitars and cards, and international personalities that guaranteed a fun night. Buffy started playing the guitar and singing. Soon Stig joined, then Gabriel, and a drum floated around for different people to tap beats upon. One girl took out plastic globes that lit up at the end of ropes and did a brief but dizzying performance for us. A dozen different conversations buzzed and one group played a made-up card game involving making animal sounds.

On Tuesday morning, I awoke on an air mattress next to a German guy. As we all groggily got ready for the day, which for many included a river rafting trip, I noticed the weather, the stillness of the wind, the clarity of the air.

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It was Tuesday afternoon and Paul was yelling in my ear again.

“Twelve thousand feet, baby! Swing your legs out the door!” The door whose window I’d been gazing out had been slid back. It was only about a foot away and with a scoot of my body, now firmly attached to Paul’s, my legs were dangling out. The wind whipped me in the face and I took a deep breath. No fear, only the realization that I was really doing this was in my mind. Tony, who had slipped out the door before me and was hanging on to the side of the plane, suddenly let go and waved at me.

In the next instant, I was falling.

As a kid, I always dreamt about flying. I would jump off the top bunk and crash into furniture, swing out of trees and land in a heap. I took flying lessons in high school. None of these compared to the joy of actually flying that I felt as Paul aimed us head first towards the ground, eventually leveling us out so that I was belly-flopping towards the world. There was no sickening gut wrench, which surprised me. It was just me and the air. Well, ok, and Paul strapped to my back, but I didn’t notice him at all.

Forty-five seconds after falling out of the plane, during which I waved and cheered and smiled at Tony and his helmet-mounted camera, there was a jerk and my legs suddenly swung downward. The chute had been pulled and we leisurely floated through the air. It was stunning: for once, I wasn’t looking at the sky stretching from horizon to horizon; I was looking at the earth spread from one side to the other. For the rest of our descent, I was free to look around and take everything in. Paul shouted for me to take the handles of the parachute and showed me how to turn and swing us about. I yanked down the left side and we spiraled. When he took back the reigns, he maneuvered so that we spiraled even more sickeningly, swinging around so that our bodies were parallel to the ground.

My landing was not the most graceful in the world, but I didn’t fall over or break a leg, so I was happy. And the first thought I had upon standing still?

“I want to do it again. Now.”

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For the rest of the day I was on an adrenaline high, feeling powerful and wanting to do something to show. I met up with the river rafters and we all went to Gabriel’s friends house for a barbecue which lasted until the wee morning hours. I found a chance to share some knowledge as the stars came out, crisp and twinkling. An English guy, Gary, turned out to be a stargazer and thinker, so we had a wonderfully long conversation about stars and myths, cultures and fire. After a few hours snooze back at Gabriel’s, Thomas’s carful of Couchsurfers departed at 5am. Three hours drive, a cliff jump and swim in a mountain pool, and a meat pie breakfast later, I bid farewell to the final remnants of my Couchsurfing weekend. They had dropped me in Thames as a detour on their way to Auckland and, for the first time, I felt absolutely confident and not the least bit anxious about being on my own again.

Time to take on the world again, a few experiences and many friends richer. Time to fly.

--Z

Worldwide Belonging

Note: I just had a fabulous weekend and will write another blog detailing the fabulousness. However, in this particular posting, I just wanted to try to convey my thoughts and feelings regarding the phenomenon of Couchsurfing. So, no pics with this post, or daily recaps. Just pontification.

A little less than a year ago I lived in Washington, DC, had been living there for over two years, and had vaguely heard of something called Couchsurfing. It seemed like in a short span of time – over the course of a few weeks, maybe – I came across the term several times, once in a magazine, once in an online forum, maybe a third time from a friend who’d heard something about it. It sounded like a bizarre group of people who would let complete strangers sleep on their couches if they were traveling. I shrugged off the references until one night, I came across the term yet again while reading a travel blog. At that point, it seemed like I should learn more, so I Googled it, went to the website, and before long I had a profile on it, had joined the Washington, DC, group, and explored the FAQ section.

Couchsurfing is an organization for travelers, to put it simply. And it is, really, incredibly simple: if you are interested in travel, people from around the world, and the idea of there being a common bond between such people, then Couchsurfing is for you. It is absolutely obligation-free, too. When I first joined, I didn’t feel that I could possibly host anyone. Strangers staying in my little DC apartment? With my work schedule? Uh-uh. I don’t remember, now, if I went to a social event with the DC group first, but within a month of lurking on the website, I decided that hosting DID sound like fun. So, I set up my profile to show the information I wanted to convey: one person at a time, only women, maximum stay of three days over a weekend. I described my “couch”: an air mattress in my living room. I described my location, myself, my general view on life.

Within a few weeks, I had a request: Fiona from the Philippines was living in New York City as a nanny and wanted to come to DC for the Cherry Blossom Festival weekend. I cautiously e-mailed her back, asking some questions, trying to get a feel for this stranger. She promptly wrote back, giving me her phone number and asking a few questions herself. Finally I accepted her “couch request,” and the next weekend we met in front of my apartment building. I welcomed her into my freshly (and nervously) cleaned apartment, showing her around and trying to assess her. Fiona was a confident, cheerful, friendly and energetic woman who had gotten bored of her successful finance manager career in the Philippines and decided to travel, working to support herself along the way.

We spent the weekend wandering DC and the Cherry Blossom festival together. She asked if she could stay an extra night so she could meet a relative coming into town on Monday and I automatically agreed, leaving her in the apartment early in the morning when I left for work. She had taught me how to make a Philippino chicken dish called adobo, encouraged me to "lead” an event (meeting up for fireworks with other Couchsurfers) via the website, and completely sold me on the entire Couchsurfing ideology.

In short, as she put it, “Some people can Couchsurf. Some people can’t. It’s all good.”

It’s true.

Since then, I’ve hosted several people from all over the world: Ukranian girl, English girl, Lithuanian girl, Indonesian guy, German guy, American guys, etc; met people out for drinks or lunch or dinner on the spur of the moment, when they posted that they were alone in a strange city; led events in DC and attended others, surfed couches in Hong Kong, Thailand, Vietnam, Australia; camped in South Korea and New Zealand; hiked; chatted; and fallen in love with the phenomenon of Couchsurfing.

An example: this past weekend, there was a massive Couchsurfing event in Turangi, New Zealand. Over a hundred of us camped together and hiked the Tongariro Crossing together. There was a guy from Texas there and as we exchanged our basic stories, we commiserated on the fact that many people back home had no understanding of why a person, of any age, would give up a good job, leave home and comfort, and travel the world in uncertainty in adventure. He started to try to explain his basic drive to do all this, then stopped, looked at me, and grinned. I grinned back and said,

“That’s the great thing about Couchsurfing. You don’t have to explain. Everyone gets it.”

And it’s absolutely true. The main questions asked between Couchsurfers are where you’ve been and where you’re going.

Last night, I surfed in Rotorua with fourteen other people. We stayed at a Brazilian-turned-kiwi guy’s place, all spread out on the floor of a big rec room. There was a guitar jam, singing, cards, laughing, a light-ball twirling show and above all, a feeling of camaraderie and community with these people we’d all just met this weekend, and who we’d be parting ways with the next day.

Amongst Couchsurfers, one doesn’t have to explain anything. You’re there. You belong there. And the entire world is our meeting place.

--Z

Blue Skies Over Levin

Pictures from my trip north from Dunedin, time with Lee and Lowey in Wellington and my WWOOF experience in Levin can be found in the album to the right titled “New Zealand: Heading North.” I haven’t uploaded the pictures yet but will in the next few days!

• Sunday, 23 Jan: Slept super well in a super comfy guest bed; rode with Lee and Lowey around Wellington, taking in the sights through the rain; visited farmer’s market; visited Te Papa museum; grocery shopping; ate licorice wrapped in chocolate, uber-light cake and a fabulous cupcake; met Lee’s brother and his girlfriend at dinner; huge homemade dinner.
• Monday, 24 Jan: Lee and Lowey drove me to Levin late in the morning; met Jane and Craig, my WWOOF hosts; started cleaning up their garage, focusing on books, organized over 100+ books into piles; toured the farm: greenhouses, horses at pasture, cows at pasture, chicken coop, compost piles, vegetable gardens, fruit trees, tons of flowers and pretty plants.
• Tuesday, 25 Jan: Worked outside, weeding specific areas, carting compost around, watering plants, replanting seedling; went to a nearby beach in the afternoon when Jane and Craig worked some injured horses in the surf; watched “In America” and had lovely homemade, home grown food for dinner.
• Wednesday, 26 Jan: Worked outside, replanting seedlings and potting various flowers; went to the beach again, swam this time, got a bit of sunburn on my face; worked inside, organizing boxes in the garage into like piles.
• Thursday, 27 Jan: Worked inside in the morning, vacuuming, cleaning and washing the washroom sink area; then worked outside, weeding bagged and potted plants; slight drizzle all day; made a big dent in huge batch that needed weeding; worked a short time in the garage.

 

The day I arrived at Jane and Craigs home it was gray, rainy and dreary. That first day, I helped Jane with clearing books out of the garage, organizing them into theme piles and sale piles. Jane was friendly, chatty and reminiscent about family as she sorted through the odd box. Craig seemed extremely quiet at first, but turned out to be friendly and funny.

The next day dawned beautifully: clear blue skies from horizon to horizon! It was time to do some outdoor manual labor, the type of worked I envisioned when I decided to give the whole WWOOFing thing a try.

I first heard of Willing Workers on Organic Farms (WWOOF) years ago in relation to Italy and someone’s trip there. The basic concept was, farms that had some sort of organic vision for their farms could sign up, for a fee I think, and then individuals interested in helping out could sign up, also for a fee, and in this way the two groups could communicate with each other. In the “old” days, individuals who signed up were sent a hard copy book with information on all the farms that needed help of some sort, a description of their land/livestock and a description of the type of work needed. I envisioned working in vineyards, erecting fences, pruning vines, picking fruits, that kind of thing. Then I learned that WWOOF is everywhere. In fact, most Western and first- and second- world countries seem to have a chapter of WWOOF. This seemed to be the one unfortunate aspect of the whole thing: there wasn’t a worldwide network of WWOOF, just country by country.

When I started planning my travels last year, I found this last fact to be especially true, so I just signed up for New Zealand’s WWOOF community. It was the one country I knew I would go to no matter what and I also had an idea of when I’d be there. It cost me $40 NZD and I was given access to the website, where farmers and volunteers can list their needs and their skills. A few months into my trip, I posted a blurb about who I am, my general skills and interests, and timeframe of being in New Zealand. Just a week or two later I got an e-mail from Jane, a native kiwi living in Levin, caring for racehorses and tending to her vegetable and fruit gardens and greenhouses. She offered to host me if I’d come by and help around the place, including assisting her in organizing things to be sold on the internet.

So, that first day when I arrived I started on the garage, but the second day I got to be outside. I was a little disappointed at first when she set me my first project: clear out three patches of ground that were infested with weeds. Two of the patches had rhubarb growing in them, though, and I was to leave those plants alone and intact. Weeding! Ugh! However, as I got to work and chatted away with Jane, I started to enjoy the process. It was great to be  able to see my progress, too, so that at the end I was beaming at the three lovely, cleared areas. I’ve often seen my mother weeding and wondered at her seeming enjoyment of it… now I can understand it!

Next up was shoveling and carting compost from the compost bins to a potting area. This didn’t take long and soon I was transplanting bulbs and plants from old bags or pots to new ones, carefully pairing and labeling each. Late in the morning, some welcome news came: a friend of Craig’s had a horse that needed some working after an injury and the plan was to take the horses to a nearby beach and walk them in the surf. I was invited to come along to enjoy the beach, which of course I agreed to right away. The horses were beautiful, regal creatures, but way out of my league to help with in any way, so I parked myself on the sand and soaked up some sun.

Once back from the beach, I started on the garage: there were over a hundred boxes of “stuff,” memorabilia and cooking stuff and books and … you know, the stuff you collect over a lifetime. I started sorting them out, putting like “stuff” together in piles. I spent a few hours at this before knocking off and relaxing. One other thing we did that day which was fun was to harvest gherkins from her patch of vegetables, then “refrigerator pickle” them. This consisted of mixing vinegar, water and spices in a jar or container, stuffing as many gherkins in as possible, then stoppering the container. There were a few of these is the fridge already and I feasted on them throughout my stay.

The third and fourth days I worked primarily in one of the greenhouses, weeding individually bagged or potted plants. It was a time consuming, peaceful job and of the hundreds of plants Jane has, I only got through maybe a hundred, but I enjoyed every minute of it! I listened to music or just daydreamed away as I picked and prodded and cleaned out the weeds, carrying four plants at a time into my little work area. It was gray and drizzly out on the fourth day, which meant no beach visit, but I was left to my own devices in the greenhouse and just plodded along with the weeding, which was perfect for me.

On the last day, a Friday, Jane and Craig drove me into town and dropped me off at my bus station before heading off on errands of their own in town. For my first WWOOF experience, I think I was lucky to have such a laid back and friendly couple to host me. The work was loosely defined and I had my choice of inside or outside work each day. Homecooked food every night for dinner had many fresh items from the gardens and their home was comfortable and inviting. I can’t wait to see what the next WWOOF experience has in store… I haven’t set it up yet, but I’m absolutely positive I’ll do it again!

--Z

The Earth Did Not Move

Pictures from this post can be found in the album to the right titled “New Zealand: Heading North.”

• Thursday, 20 Jan: Early morning wakeup, good-byes, rush to the bus stop, on the bus for five hours but felt like less than two!; in Christchurch, walked around city center; at i-Site, decided on single room at YMCA; realized I left wine on the bus, went back, made arrangements to pick it up next day; checked into YMCA, napped, went to coffee shop for lunch/internet; went to first night of World Busker Festival.
• Friday, 21 Jan: Woke up several times in the morning for no reason, didn’t get out of bed until 10am; had breakfast at coffee shop; picked up bottles of wine at bus stop, took them back to YMCA; wandered downtown; went to  Maui Maori haka show, with dancing and cultural explanations; met up with couchsurfers at a pizza/pub get-together; saw acrobat/busker show (fantastic!).
• Saturday, 22 Jan: Up early, on the bus at 7am; headed up east coast to Picton, with a stop in Kaikoura; took ferry to Wellington, 3 hours and lots of fun, although choppy water; met Lee at the harbor; went to Lee and Ian’s beautiful house (friends of cousin Robby’s) and got settled; went on driving tour of Welly suburbs and fabulous city lookouts; ate at Malaysian restaurant with sadly deficient waiting skills but good food; back to the house for wine, chocolate and Borat.

 

Throughout my travels, when I’ve left a travel partner or host, I’ve faced a bewildering set of emotions just after saying good bye: sadness, disappointment, fear, excitement and a sense of adventure. It’s not a particularly comfortable mixing pot that burbles in my stomach or chest area, to be honest. For some reason, fear is the one that I can taste the most. It’s almost as if, having spent a delightful time with someone, I am terrified that everything will be downhill from the moment “bye” leaves my lips. I’m afraid that the earth will move and I will fall over.

And sometimes, it does go downhill. For example, when I arrived in Christchurch the day I said goodbye to Matt and Fiona, several things went wrong. For one, I left my carefully packed wine on the bus and didn’t notice it until an hour after leaving the bus station. For another, I realized too late that I spent too much on a single room at the YMCA. And when I unpacked, it was to find that a travel-sized shampoo bottle had exploded, leaked out of my toiletries bag and made a gigantic-sized mess in my tightly packed clothes.

There are days when I wonder what’s so attractive about this solo travel thing, after all. I’m telling you, I seriously wonder.

Luckily, once everything starts going wrong, small things start going magically right. I met an incredibly nice (and talkative) lady at the bus station who called my bus driver and made arrangements to bring the wine back the next day. The YMCA room was overpriced for a large room with a single bed and chair in it, but I met some nice folks in the common area. And the shampoo explosion? Well, I discovered I had a rather powerful heater in my room, which dried my vigorously rinsed clothes in no time, and now three of my shirts smell pleasantly of Dove.

After a gray and rainy few days in Christchurch, along with some good belly laughs courtesy of the buskers in town for the World Buskers Festival, I made my way north, having slept through the earth-moving quakes occurring in the wee hours. It was an exact reverse of the route Matt and I had taken, but even so, I saw a few things we’d missed: fur seals along a particular stretch of coast, where we hadn’t been looking during our road trip; the pink, sectioned off pools that we’d passed wonderingly turned out to be salt evaporation pools, pink because of the dual-purpose of farming brine shrimp; and the equivalent of emo youth on the bus, complete with piercings, wild hair and forlorn stares.

The ferry from Picton (south island) to Wellington (north island) found me experiencing a slight sea sickness for the first time in my life. Oddly enough, exposing myself to the sun deck, wind, rain and cold made me feel better; odder still, reading on that top deck made me quite comfortable and calm. Other green passengers passed me and seemed ready to vomit upon just seeing me read and several asked how I could manage.

In Wellington, I very purposefully repeated my litany of luggage to myself: “Big pack, little pack, wine. Big pack, little pack, wine…” and thus managed to haul all three out of the station successfully. There I was greeted by a friend of my cousin’s who had offered to put me up and show me around Welly, as they call it, and thus began another upswing of my travels. Surely when I leave Lee and Ian, my recipe of emotions will leave me feeling strange, but hopefully when that happens, the earth will stay still and the next upswing will begin fairly quickly.

--Z

South Island Circuit: A Different Kind of Travel

Note: Pictures from this post can be found to the right in albums titled, “New Zealand: Exploring Dunedin” and “New Zealand: Central and Northern South Island.” To be captioned soon!

• Thursday, 6 Jan: Relaxed, did laundry, checked e-mails, posted pictures; went into town with Fiona; bought SIM card; met Matt for a late afternoon snack and drink in town; watched movie.
• Friday, 7 Jan: Borrowed Matt’s truck to drive into Dunedin proper; explored Otago Museum; wandered downtown a bit; drove back to the house to relax and  have lunch; drove to aquarium to bring Matt lunch and see the aquarium, tour and all; got a ride back from a coworker of Matt’s; got picked up by Matt later, drove back to Dunedin to explore a bit.
• Saturday, 8 Jan: Borrowed Matt’s truck again and drove to beach with fur seals; saw four and basked in sun, walked around and explored the area; drove to Albatross center and had lunch, admired the landscape and spotted several Royal Albatross in the air; picked up Matt from work; drove around the peninsula for a bit; prepared for leaving on the road trip the next day.
• Sunday, 9 Jan: drove to Cromwell; wine tasting; lunch at cute cafe near a bridge and a clock in the rocks above; camped in Queenstown Top 10; decided to try canyoning the next morning; explored town, watched buskers, ate ice cream.
• Monday, 10 Jan: Canyoning trip already full; decided to leave town; stopped at a bunji place on a bridge, watched Matt do the jump and submerge his head in the waters far below; stopped at Peregrine for wine tasting and had a picnic lunch; drove to Franz Joseph township; heard a loud clanking in the front of the truck; camped.
• Tuesday, 11 Jan: Took car to mechanic, who found a loose nut causing the problem; decided to skydive the glaciers, but the weather was crap; went out for lunch; grilled out for dinner; drank one of the Peregrine wines (Riesling); camped.
• Wednesday, 12 Jan: Went on a half-day glacier hike on Franz Joseph Glacier; soaked in a hot pools in town; gray, wet and gloomy day; drove north to Westport; visited a pub for dinner and met a nice English couple; stayed in a motel to treat our aching backs.
• Thursday, 13 Jan: Slept in; drove to Nelson; explored Founders Park, a period park; drove to Blenheim, found the Grapevine Hostel and pitched the tent in back; listened to trains and big trucks rumble by all night!
• Friday, 14 Jan: Woken by hostel-tenants having a loud chat near our tent; set out on a wine-tasting tour, visiting several wineries and purchasing several bottles, enjoying lunch at one vineyard.
• Saturday, 15 Jan: Drove south towards Christchurch; bypassed city and went to Methven; set up tent at Abisko campsite; ate out at the “Blue Pub” where we encountered an all-women going away party for a high school grad, as well as an all-male bachelor party full of drink and debauchery.
• Sunday, 16 Jan: Locked the keys in the truck; found gas station that called someone in to unlock & retrieve the key; departed one hour late for a Lord of the Rings tour (the bus got stopped by a rockfall); explored the countryside with the tour, saw spectacular scenery; grilled out for dinner; finished off two of our bottles of wine; watched a movie.
• Monday, 17 Jan: Slept in; awoke to a gray and windy day; drove to Oamaru and did a drive-by tour of the Victorian-style downtown; drove to Moeraki to see the odd and unsettling rock formations; camera quit but I beat it back into life; picnic lunch in the car along the coastline; stopped at a cheese factory; arrived back in Dunedin to find a new puppy in the house!
• Tuesday, 18 Jan: Went into town with Fiona to run errands and get a pedicure; researched shipping costs for wine, decided against it; relaxed back at the house, backed up pictures, did laundry; went into town, rented several movies.
• Wednesday, 19 Jan: Slept in; set up and cleaned tent and fly; folded laundry, started cleaning out packs and preparing to pack up again; took bus into town; got a one-hour massage from a woman recommended by Matt, came out like jell-o; went to the library and caught up on e-mails; bought InterCity Flexipass to get me around New Zealand and booked bus for the next day; caught bus back to the house; packed; had kebabs for dinner, watched a movie.

How a person travels is a highly personal choice. When I planned this trip, I did so with “by myself” as my main purpose. This was for several reasons, and against the advice of many good, concerned friends. My reasons to travel solo included (and still include): flexibility, the ability to change my mind, then change it back, then decide on a third, unrelated option, all without feeling the least bit guilty or concerned about someone else’s desires; independence, the opportunity to see what I would do without the influence of any other person around to either direct me or to let myself be directed by; and lack of anyone who was ready at this very point in time to take a year and spend all their money traveling.

Primarily, though, it was so I could see the world in my own way, whatever that way might turn out to be.

The main thoughtful, concerned and well-meaning reasons not to travel solo: safety, as in, lone female makes a good target; keep loneliness at bay, as traveling alone in foreign places can get lonely, especially over such a long period; and share experiences with someone, whether good or bad.

Primarily, though, the reasons against going solo had to do with safety.

When I arrived in New Zealand, I knew that I would be making an abrupt change to how I traveled: not only was I visiting a friend, but we were going to be road-tripping, meaning we would be together all the time. While I have had a few travel partners in the last three months, none have I traveled with for longer than five or six days in one stretch and even then we were separating now and then to spend days off on our own. My second road trip with Matt lasted nine days.

Luckily, some of the drive, scenery and towns were new to Matt, so we got to explore together. Our first day took us through the beautiful central region of south island, including vineyards and bridges and gorges with gorgeous blue water flowing through them. We settled into a general routine: discuss what we wanted to do on the road trip and during that day specifically; Matt would sporadically educate me on the passing flora and animal life; chat about things past, present and future; listen to music; and attempt to educate me about music, good bands, their singers, and their lyrics. (This last, which has been a friendship-long, if futile, effort of Matt’s, proved as successful as in the past. My brother can probably sympathize with Matt.)

Our second day brought us some surprises. On a good note, Matt decided to bungee jump, and I enjoyed expressing the nerves (making gagging and vomit sounds when we watched others approach the jumping off platform) and excitement (“Oooh, let’s do a before picture! And an after picture! Why aren’t you dancing around in jubilation?!”) that Matt nonchalantly avoided. It was a lovely day out and the water, so far below the bridge from which he jumped, was an amazing blue color. I pointed-and-clicked away, videoing the jump and documenting the one “Wahoo!” that Matt let out just before his head went into the water. Appropriately, we followed up the bungee jump with a visit to a winery and some lunch.

On a negative note, the truck started making some disturbing clanking sounds which I swear I could feel through my feet when I was driving. We zigged and zagged along the west coast, heading north to the Fox and Franz Joseph glaciers, frowning and wondering if the trip might be cut short by a serious or expensive problem. We made it to Franz Joseph township with no problem and staked out a campsite. I determined that I wanted to skydive over the glacier, although maybe not from the newly-available, but only at this location, altitude of 18,000 feet. I decided to book it the next morning, depending on weather.

Our third day was spent waiting for the weather to clear. Sadly, the low, dense and gloomy clouds didn’t clear in the least. We explored the township, relaxed, read books and played in the campsite gameroom. Also, we took the car to a mechanic. Thankfully, it was a minor and fairly inexpensive problem, a loose bolt.

When on the fourth day the weather still didn’t clear, we decided to spend the morning on a half-day glacier hike, followed by a soak in the hot pools in town, and then make our way north. After hitting a few very country places, including a small pub decked out with chainsaws, animal skins and a roadkill menu, not to mention a giant sandfly fixture across the road, we made it to Westport and treated ourselves to dinner out and a motel room with soft beds. A highlight of this day was a road-side stop where we admired the sunbeams piercing through the clouds over a beautiful view of the west coast.

Day five saw us heading to Nelson, where we spent an hour or two exploring Founders Park, a period-representative area that would have been improved by period-representative people, or anyone, to make things more lively. After a beer-tasting and lunch, we headed for the east coast and Blenheim, which would be our entryway into Marlborough country. No, not for the Marlboro man, but for wine! We pitched the tent in the back yard of a hostel, which was really two huge houses with several rooms. We met some of the other hostelers during dinner, mainly European youngsters looking for work to sustain their travels. That day, they had pitted apricots for hours on end.

It will come as no surprise, then, that on the sixth day we drove from vineyard to vineyard, tasting and chatting and admiring the absolutely stunning scenery of the countryside. We enjoyed lunch at one vineyard, a short self-led vineyard walk at another, gathered lavender at yet another. At the end of the day we had toured seven wineries and bought a decent number of bottles between the two of us, along with some lovely lime-chocolate (Matt) and a postcard (me). I slept pretty well that night, despite the nearby train tracks and accompanying tooting trains, rumbling trucks on the road and chattering travelers.

The seventh day of our road trip brought us to Methven. All day, the weather was strange, opening into blue skies periodically but ending with strangely shaped clouds and a gray mist that made everything damp. We got some of the blue skies as we visited Kaikoura, where I had my first whitebait fritter and then promptly broke the strap of my flip flops while exploring a beach known for having fur seals (we didn’t see any). I bought a replacement pair of Teva’s at a shop in town before we headed south, briefly visiting the United States Antarctic Program hanger before reaching Methven in the late afternoon.

We took refuge at the “Blue Pub” in town, across the street from the “Brown Pub.” We had dinner in a room where the only other diners were a group of twenty-something women of all ages, apparently a going away party for one of them heading off to college. At one point, we saw a bus pull up and unload a large party of men, but that was all we saw as the women started crowding the windows and giggling, pointing and generally admiring the view. Matt wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel put out, until we were told that it was a bachelor party and that the groom-to-be was currently being seran-wrapped to a flagpole. We encountered the very drunk and boisterous group when we visited the bar after dinner. Once they decided to scrum with the pool table, knocking it off it’s legs, we headed back to our campsite.

On the second to last day of our trip, I started off the day with a twist by locking the keys in the truck. Two hours, fifty dollars and a retrieved key later, we joined a Lord of the Rings tour, which took us across some beautiful countryside to the location of where Edoras, Helm’s Deep and the Gandolph’s ride out on a hillock were filmed. You would never know it now, since the sets are gone and all the vegetation was replanted, but it was fun to associate the imposing cliffs, faraway landscapes and jutting hills with the scenery of the films. I also got to pose with a sword, which is always a good time, along with drinking some champagne (after I put the sword down). Later that day, Matt and I availed ourselves of the sauna at the campsite, then grilled some locally made chorizo sausages, tasted two of our wines and watched Harry Potter.

Finally, we headed down the east coast and visited the Moeraki boulders, very spherical natural formations that sit eerily in the waves of a beach. We drove through an old-fashioned, Victorian-style downtown area, picnicked in the car and visited a cheese factory, and then it was home again in Dunedin.

It was by no means a solo trip, and sometimes that was hard for me, but Matt was a fun travel partner and we were able to make choices, discuss options and change our minds a time or two, with no problem. Obviously, I wasn’t lonely and felt perfectly safe the entire time, too. All in all I got to see much of south island and its wondrous scenery and strange treasures, and I got to share all this with Matt as well as spend time with him, chatting about people and events from the past, opportunities and travails of the present, and future possibilities.

Hopefully, I will have the opportunity to keep traveling in different ways, with people or alone, and have the types of experiences in both cases that will continue making this year of travel something I’ll treasure forever and never forget.

--Z

2011: New Adventures, Old Friends

Note: Pictures from this post can be found in the album to the right titled, “New Zealand: Southern South Island.”  A few additional pictures from Melbourne can be found in the Australia album previously posted.

• Wednesday, 29 Dec: Slept in again; collected dry laundry, folded and repacked; had brunch with my hostess and the other two people surfing with her; went to St. Kilda Beach with Nick, the Belgian couchsurfer; after he headed back to the house, I walked around the beachfront area, had some ice cream, wine and a snack, and people-watched; headed back to the house; watched a movie with everyone; crashed early.
• Thursday, 30 Dec: Met up with some couchsurfers in Federation Square; had Chinese dumplings for lunch; visited the Gaol, which is Melbourne’s first jail; participated in a play-acting of the trial of Ned Kelly, playing the incompetent lawyer of the accused; got many accolades for my fine acting; followed half a walking tour map of the city; drank just a little bit of a terrible glass of Riesling; made grilled cheese sandwiches with Martin; went out to St. Kilda Beach again to find and watch the Small Penguins come in at sunset; saw just a few on the rocks, but it was exciting: my first ever penguins, and really rare ones at that! Visited Crown, the largest casino in the southern hemisphere, where my hostess worked as a floor manager; took a look around, had a drink and called it a night.
• Friday, 31 Dec: Got up at 4:30am and called the taxi company; arrived at the airport two hours early for my flight, but realized I did not have a receipt for my outbound flight for NZ, which is required before getting a boarding pass to get IN to NZ; ran around solving that problem for thirty minutes; boarded no problem, easy flight with Air New Zealand; arrived on time in Dunedin and met Matt, long time friend who now lives in Dunedin, who had a lovely “Welcome to New Zealand” sign for me; he drove me to the city center, showing me the Octagon and we had lunch and caught up on the news with each other; headed to his home and caught up with Fiona and met their dog and two cats; we decided on a night in for New Year’s, cracked open some wine and cooked up some steak; had a great time chatting about every topic under the sun; saw some bright and beautiful stars between the clouds at midnight; crashed in the guest room.
• Saturday, 1 Jan 2011: Happy New Year! Slept in, had a lazy day with Matt and Fiona; visited the Queen Botanical Gardens in Dunedin, had a little hike and played on swings and see-saws; ate out for lunch; watched the sun set from the kitchen window, spectacular!; had another delicious home-cooked meal; prepared for road trip with Matt.
• Sunday, 2 Jan: Left the house just half an hour later than planned and headed inland; drove to Gore, home of country music as well as a huge brown trout statue; eventually made it to Te Anau and rented a tiny tin cabin across the street from the lake; visited the wildlife sanctuary and saw some New Zealand birds; did a three hour hike along the Kepler Track; went out for pizza dinner and had a brie and apricot sauce pizza which was not bad.
• Monday, 3 Jan: Drove along Milford Road, which has incredible and awesome scenery; it was raining and low hanging fog and clouds made everything ominous and mysterious; watched waterfalls galore, big and small, roll by; took cruise of Milford Sound, where the sun started to poke through the clouds and eventually broke free; saw fur seals and a gully where a bird previously thought extinct was re-discovered; visited the underwater observatory, which was cool but not as active as usual because of all the rain; finished with a cruise in the sunshine; did some short walks around Milford Sound, then headed back along the Milford Road, stopping to admire lookouts and do some short hikes as we went; booked it down to the south coast to get to Curiou Bay, hitting Monkey Island on the way; visited the petrified forest at Curio Bay, caught site of a possible sea lion, and watched yellow-eyed penguins waddle up the rocks to their nests; pitched the tent and camped out for the night.
• Tuesday, 4 Jan: Woke up later than planned; re-visited the petrified forest and penguins; went to Slope Point, the southernmost point in New Zealand; did several hikes, including two to waterfalls that were quite pretty; visited the Nuggets, some huge rock stacks off the coast, and saw dozens of fur seals, a few yellow-eyed penguins, some spoonbills, and other cool wildlife; walked through two 400-meter tunnels, one of which had glowworms in it; visited an old suspension bridge; ate a turkey-sandwich picnic dinner; eventually made it back to Dunedin; watched tv and unpacked.
• Wednesday, 5 Jan: Went for a walk with Fiona on St. Claire Beach; bought a sim card; explored the Dunedin City Center on my own a bit; met up with Matt late in the day; visited the Otago Museum briefly; rented a movie; caught up on e-mail, picture saving and news; grocery shopped; watched Day and Knight (very silly).

On new year’s eve, I flew into Dunedin, New Zealand, in the early afternoon. There I was picked up at the airport by my friend Matt, who I’ve known since I was thirteen years old. We met through Cuong Nhu, a style of martial arts. He was already a teacher by the time we met, while I was a newbie white belt. All during my teens, I looked up to Matt, five years older than me, and he treated me as a friend and a little sister. Throughout the years since I left for college and the Air Force, we’ve kept in touch and visited occasionally: he came to Minnesota one year while I was in school and I flew to Ireland for his wedding.

It’s quite a satisfying turn of events when you are able to visit someone you like so well, in a country that is at the top of your destination list. Ever since my dad took a trip to New Zealand over a decade ago, bringing back pictures of penguins and incredible landscapes, it has been a must-see destination for me. And especially since I started day-dreaming and planning this trip! It was the one place that I knew I would not forego for any reason. Luckily for me, Matt moved to Dunedin several years ago, and so it happened that I was able to start my new year visiting old friends and exploring a new country.

We celebrated the new year quietly at Matt and Fiona’s home, drinking wine and bubbly, chatting away and eating a nice homemade dinner. Two days later, we were on the road for a three-day road trip to explore the southern parts of New Zealand’s south island. For the most part, Matt had seen it all before, so I had a built-in guide for the trip! We drove across the island to Te Anau, which is the entry point for the Kepler Track. We actually hiked for about three hours on the track, which was a pretty and easy walk. We stayed the night in a little metal cabin, getting an early start for Milford Sound the next morning.

The road to Milford was incredible! I stared out of the window at the windy roads, low hanging clouds, a drizzle of rain for the most of the way, and the endless cascades of water coming down the mountains surrounding us. We saw snow in the mountains, some even quite low and seemingly accessible by just reaching out or walking a short way. We took about an hour and a half to drive the road, finally ending at the boat dock and trailhead for the Milford Track. A cruise around Milford Sound taught me that it is inaccurately named, that it is a curious mix of fresh water (in a layer on top) and salt water (from the Tasman Sea), and that it was good luck that it rained so much the night before and that morning. The waterfalls were in full gush, plus there were many smaller additional falls that aren’t always there when it’s dry. There were all kinds of waterfalls: thin and wide, trickling and roaring, fall from high in the crags or from just a short distance above water level. A visit to the underwater observatory let us look into the salt water base and see some of the fish going about their daily lives.

That same day, we drove to the south coast, pulling off to admire outlooks and take short hikes along the way, or to see landmarks, like an old suspension bridge built in the late 19th century. We arrived in Curio Bay just before sundown and managed to see the petrified forest there, a huge shelf of rock and petrified stumps of trees that holds tidal pools at low tide. There were yellow-eyed penguins coming home to their nests and a possible sea lion or fur seal, wiggling on some rocks. Matt is incredibly knowledgeable about all kinds of wildlife (he currently works at an aquarium and has worked at wildlife preserves in the past), so I learned all about the critters we saw.

After a successful night of camping, we spotted the rare Hector dolphins in Porpoise Bay, and explored more of the south coast, visiting Slope Point, the southernmost point of New Zealand, and the Nuggets, rock stacks off the coast which harbor many fur seals and, at this time of year, their pups. We saw spoonbills and hawks and all sorts of birds, including more penguins. On the drive back north to Dunedin, we stopped at Manuka Gorge Tunnel, which has glowworms inside it, a free alternative to the famed but expensive-to-visit glowworm caves at Te Anau.

My impressions of New Zealand so far: first, beautiful landscapes. Even when it’s just farmland, it’s pretty! And the lakes, bays and harbours are picturesque as well, not to mention the mountains when we’re near them! Second, the weather is completely unpredictable! For the most part it’s been chilly or downright cold, although when it’s mild it’s quite nice and when the sun is out, it’s downright gorgeous. So far, it’s been gray and rainy in Dunedin, with mixed weather that changes during the day when we were out on the road trip. Third, the people are pretty friendly here! Anytime I’ve needed help with directions, people have been more than willing to help, and most folks seem ready to have a conversation if anyone’s interested. Fourth, the food is varied and yummy. I’ve had a lamb burger and a brie-and-apricot-sauce pizza, which was weird but tasty.

After a few days of exploring Dunedin and around while Matt works and gets some errands and chores done, we plan to hit the road again. This time, we’ll head to the west coast and then go north, hitting Queenstown (and perhaps some adrenaline sports?!) on the way before seeing the Fox and Franz Glaciers. We may head back east via Arthur’s Pass after that, taking a look at Christchurch and then heading back to Dunedin.

A new year in a new country with an old friend… what a fantastic start to 2011!

--Z

Winging It

Note: I have updated the album titled "Australia: Melbourne and Around" with the pictures from the past few days, including the Great Ocean Road trip and a day at Phillip Island. Enjoy!

Summary:

• Friday, 24 Dec: Made breakfast; met up with Martin to search for rental car companies; eventually booked through Thrifty online; went our separate ways for lunch and to rest; took a nap; met up again with Martin to buy food at Queen Victoria Market and then head to Port Melbourne Beach to relax and then meet people for a Couchsurfing BBQ; spent several hours at the beach, watched sunset; headed back to the dorms around 10pm.
• Saturday, 25 Dec: Got up early, showered, packed and checked out of the hostel; picked up rental car and slowly drove through the city to Martin's hostel to pick him up; we realized we had no idea how to get to the Great Ocean Road so stopped at a Holiday Inn, where they printed us a packet for the whole trip; spent the entire day driving along the Great Ocean Road, ending in Warrnambool.
• Sunday, 26 Dec: Went to Tower Hill park west of Warrnambool and climbed around a bit; hit several outlooks along the Great Ocean Road on the way back towards Melbourne, as well as national parks; got in to Melbourne where Martin's couchsurfing host agreed to host me as well.
• Monday, 27 Dec: Picked up a girl Martin had met at his hostel; drove to Philip Island, about two hours away; explored the island for the day; attempted to find a Melbourne city-view from Martin's guidebook, but arrived 30 minutes too late to get in; back to Melbourne and Rachel, our couchsurfing host. 
• Tuesday, 28 Dec: Up early to return car to rental company; walked around Melbourne Central Business District (CBD); watched street performers at Federation Square, visited information center, used internet cafe; headed back to host's house, eating Middle Eastern for a late lunch; played on computer, did my laundry and chatted with host and other surfers.

On Thursday, December 23rd, I met Martin. Martin is a student in Germany who recently finished university and is taking some time to travel before starting up his studies again. On Friday, we searched around for car rental companies, having no luck until we tried online. Even then we paid quite a lot for our car, but decided that we really wanted to do the Great Ocean Road trip, so we went ahead with it. And on Saturday, we were off! It was the beginning of a trip with a stranger, with no plans for accommodation or meals or road maps past the basic tourist maps.

The coastline was beautiful and the weather, while ever-changing, was nice enough to allow short walks on beaches and trails. We jumped in and out of the car fairly often, wowing over the views. We got along pretty well and even the highway driving was fun, if adventurous at times, since driving on the left is a bit strange to me. We did some basic grocery shopping so that we could minimize what we spent on meals. In the evening, we decided to drive another hour past the 12 Apostles, which was the last thing we saw for the day, to Warrnambool. Martin was able to get online on his laptop and found that there was a backpacker (hostel) in that town.


We found one, although not the one he'd found online, and they had dorm beds for $24AUD apiece. It was actually a really nice hostel, with a kitchen and dishes, pool table, free tea and coffee, games, maps, brochures and big tv's. The walls were fairly thin, but otherwise it was a great place.


The next day, we headed to a place I'd found in one of the hostel brochures, Tower Hill. It was a pretty mixture of wetlands and forest, just behind a crest of hills from the ocean. Then we headed back along the Great Ocean Road, taking the whole day to hit different viewpoints that we hadn't seen the day before. The weather wasn't quite as nice, but there were moments of blue sky that were stunning. We got back into Melbourne fairly late, arriving just before midnight at Martin's couchsurfing host's house.

There, we met Rachel, our host, and her other surfer, Nick from Belgium. And soon after that, I was asleep!

The whole trip was one of "winging it." It was a completely comfortable experience, but everything worked out just fine in the end. Rachel has agreed to host me for a couple nights (along with Martin and Nick) and so my last few days in Melbourne will be easy and cheap! Plus, Rachel is an extremely friendly, talkative and lively hostess. It's just too bad that she works nights at her job, because we don't get to hang out as much as I'd like.


Being a bit more "foot loose" was one of my goals for my travels. I tend to over plan, so I've been working on doing minimal planning and seeing what comes up. Usually, things turn out pretty good, or even great!
But it's a hard habit to cultivate, since there's always the sense that by doing this, I'll miss seeing something that I shouldn't miss.


I'm really enjoying Australia. Although the weather is cold so far, it's still beautiful outside. The people are friendly and engaging. And the city of Melbourne is engaging and full of personality that you can feel and see.  

--Z

Mid-Trip Assessment

Note: I have uploaded two posts today, this one and “I’m Getting Too Old for This.” Don’t forget to scroll down and read both of them!

For those who wonder about how I’m handling a trip like this, I figured a general assessment of how I’m doing in various respects would help to put things into perspective. It’s really NOT impossible and sometimes it seems even more doable in many ways than a 9-5 workday, regular lifestyle!

Physically

Physically I’m doing well. I’ve been fairly sick just once, although I’ve suffered some reactions to foods along the way. The one time I was sick, it was pretty severe for about twelve hours, but full recovery took almost a week and a half, possibly longer. I’ve been fairly consistently plagued by bug bites of varying natures, but nothing serious or infected. Occasionally I get a headache or feel out of it, but am generally recovered by the next day. Twice I’ve felt cold/flu symptoms coming on, but have been able to avoid full-fledged sickness. I twisted my ankle once fairly hard in Thailand, but it was find the next day. I’ve suffered only one mild sunburn.

Mentally/Emotionally

Mentally I’m also doing well, at least, in my opinion! There are days I feel lonely or homesick, but in general that doesn’t last too long. Oddly enough, I find this hits the most when I’m amongst a large volume of other travelers, due in part because many people travel with friends or partners and therefore don’t always reach out to the singles. One hurdle I passed recently was the “I’m not on vacation” realization. For about two months, I enjoyed my travels as I would any vacation. Then, I started to feel antsy, as if I should be getting back to work. The only thing is… I don’t have a job to get back to! It was a strange feeling, almost like I was doing something wrong. It takes regular reminding that it’s all right to be traveling, and to be doing nothing on some days, even! I have not felt depressed or driven to go home immediately. And thus far, I haven’t begun to worry about my future.

Financially

I’m doing all right on my budget. As most of you know, I budgeted fairly high for this trip. I had the great intention of tracking everything I spent and reporting on daily food, lodging and transportation costs. Unfortunately, my dedication flagged after just two weeks of trying this, so now I track my expenditures the easy way: every time I withdraw money from the ATM, I put it into my spreadsheet. This eliminates the hassle of converting the currencies daily as well as remembering every Baht, Reil or Dong that I spend. My mindset is generally that I be frugal but not extra-frugal; that I do the things I really want to do, weighing them against other opportunities that I’ll have in the region; and that the money I put aside for travel is for my trip and if I run out early, then so be it. But, I really hope I don’t run out early!

For those that are curious, here is a general summary of my costs so far.Each country’s costs is an average of the number of days in the country and the total amount spent in that country, to include the transportation for getting there (flight, train, boat, etc), food, accommodations, fun extras, gifts, mail (packages and postcards), toiletries and unexpected costs, like new cameras. Oh, and ATM fees, which have ranged from $0 to $10 per transaction.

• South Korea: 15 days: $71 average per day; overall, well under budget.
  • It’s odd that I spent so much, since I didn’t pay for accommodation for most of the trip. Unexpected costs included a new camera when my old one broke. Big extras were a flight to Jeju Island.
• Hong Kong: 6 days: $89 average per day; overall, slightly under budget.
  • Again, no lodging costs, but Hong Kong is expensive. Big extras included a trip to Macau and a night-time cruise in Victoria Harbor.
• Thailand: 16 days: $92 average per day; overall, slightly under budget.
  • Some lodging costs; traveled with short-term travel friends for half the time; bought lots of souvenirs and some tailor-made clothes; two day trips with a guide.
• Vietnam: 20 days: $58 average per day; overall, well under budget.
  • Paid for all but three nights lodging; shared several nights lodging with another traveler; big extras were a trip to Halong Bay, a new camera when I lost my other new one, and a motorbike trip in the countryside for three days; ate primarily street food.
• Cambodia: 19 days: $30 average per day; overall, WAY under budget.
  • Paid for all lodging; shared several nights of lodging; ate street food and restaurant food; big extras included three-day pass to Angkor, boat trip to Battambang and a boat day-trip in Sihanoukeville.
• Thailand: 2 days: $72 average per day; overall, slightly under budget.

So, as you can see, I’m under budget! So far I think that I’ll be able to keep slightly under budget in Australia and New Zealand, but I’ll really have to be careful on the big extras. There are just so many to choose from: sailboat trips, sky diving, guided day trips, etc. It helps that I’ll be staying with friends for about two weeks in NZ, but after that, we’ll have to see.

Packing

Thus far, I haven’t found anything that I missed packing. There are a few things I haven’t used yet, but nothing that I will send home. I may have to buy some warmer everyday clothes for Australia and New Zealand, because it’s cooler than I expected. My hiking boots are a bit heavy to lug around, but I’m glad that I have them. My electronics have all worked out quite well, although the used cell phone I bought doesn’t hold a charge worth a damn. My hats are the one thing I haven’t used as much as expected. My packs are holding up fine. While fairly unused, my medical kit keeps me feeling safe and comfortable.

Summary

All in all, so far so good! I’ll try to remember to do these mid-trip assessments every three months or so, to see what may have changed!

--Z

I’m Getting Too Old for This

Photos: Australia: Melbourne and Around

Note: I’ve added a link to Martin’s blog to the right. Take a look, he’s got a fabulous camera and is a pretty good photographer! To find out who Martin is, read this blog post. :)

• Monday, 20 Dec: Wandered around Khao San Road area, visiting bookshops and trying to barter a good deal to sell or trade my old books (SE Asia guidebook, Millenium book #2, and a language book for SE Asian countries) so that I could get a good price on Millenium #3 and a guidebook for Oz and/or NZ. I ended up paying about $10 for Millenium and $8 for a 2010 NZ guidebook. Woo! Otherwise, puttered around, played on computers and peoplewatched; at dinner, an older woman named Ingrid asked me to sit with her, then help her on the computer, then walk her back to her hotel; she was a trip! Resisted urge to cut my hair super short and dye the stubble bright blue. Also attempted to sink wash clothes to get the stench out.
• Tuesday, 21 Dec: Slept in; street food breakfast; read book; did last computer chores; bought an airport minivan ticket; at a huge late lunch; left for airport at 5pm, arrived at 7:00pm due to traffic; bought some treats and water, the latter which was not allowed on the plane due to Australian restrictions; boarded flight, finished my book after two hours, went to sleep. Annoyed that JetStar charges $3 for a cup of tea, $8 for a blanket and $12 for meals, and keep the cabin ice cold.
• Wednesday, 22 Dec: Arrived Melbourne feeling groggy and dehydrated; spent an hour and a half at the airport clearing customs (had to declare my food, which consisted of a bag of dried mango chips and some herbs) and then hanging out at the information desk to figure out a place to lodge; finally decided on Melbourne International Backpackers (MIB) and bought SkyBus ticket to city; made transfer to a free bus to my hostel; arrived, checked into a 6-bed dorm, ate at a Malaysian place for lunch and then took a three hour nap; went to Queen Victoria Night Market with some dorm-mates and had Middle-Eastern for dinner; fell asleep at 11pm.
• Thursday, 23 Dec: Slept very well! Availed myself of free breakfast – cereal for the first time in almost three months! Then set out to explore local Melbourne area: free City CIrcle Tram, saw Dockside and some cool city streets; meandered around for most of the day; met a Couchsurfer interested in renting a car to explore the Great Ocean Road; bought food to cook for dinner/lunch; ate at hostel; developed a major headache and went to bed.

 

No, I’m not too old for traveling. I’m too old for dorms. I’m too old for the girls hooking up with guys in the top bunks, pretending to be asleep when you walk in unexpectedly. Too old for the girls whose best friends are insanely jealous and shoot adoring looks at the guy with whom their friend is hooking up. Too old for clambering into the top bunk and waiting for the lower-bunk girl to stop squirming around.

I never thought I’d feel too old for this!

It’s not all bad. I don’t mind the laundry that is currently hanging on jury-rigged clothesline across the room. And the guy causing all the trouble is actually a fairly nice-seeming guy from London. It’s just the drama that seems a bit much, is all. Girls who haven’t outgrown high school and college level emotional turmoil and tendencies get a bit annoying, but hey – they are just out of “uni” as they call it, so I suppose I should give them leeway.

Melbourne is a hoppin’ place! It’s so modern and clean and lively! It must be said that I’m suffering severe stickershock, and it’s well justified. Not only is it difficult coming from Asia to Australia in the first place; Australia is also just really friggin’ expensive! A big bottle of water cost me $3.20 today (and AUD=USD at the moment). In Cambodia it would be $0.50. Oy. Internet at my hostel? $3 an hour. In Bangkok, it was about $1 an hour. And my half a bunk bed here costs $26 per night. An ensuite double, by myself, cost at most $10 per night in Asia. Ouch!

The weather is quite cool but also very sunny. From what I understand, I seem to have brought the good weather with me; it was apparently rain and even cooler temps before. The streets are paved evenly and the sidewalks are good for walking upon. It’s quite the contrast from Cambodia’s dirt roads and decimated sidewalks when they even existed. Oh, and the showers! Sure, I’m using shared bathrooms, but the showers are hot and have great pressure! I’ll admit I was not eco-friendly this morning as I reveled for twenty minutes in the fabulous heat.

There are many beautiful parks in Melbourne, which I fully intend on taking advantage of by reading, napping or wandering through them. There are a few free things to do, although the things that cost seem to cost a lot (like $20 for entry to the aquarium). I found a couple of streets that were filled with beautiful graffiti, which was fun to peruse like an art gallery. I found two places so far with free wi-fi: the state library and Foundation Square. I love the feeling of a clean, smoothly running city.

My plans for my time in Melbourne include attending a Christmas Eve BBQ on the beach with the local couchsurfers here; a three-day trip with a German couchsurfer named Martin, up the Great Ocean Road and back, to include Phillip’s Island; and that’s about it so far. Tomorrow I will explore the area some more, particularly to buy some gifts and souvenirs and maybe some warm clothes, if I can find anything affordable.

Oh! And I love how friendly Australians are, and that they call me “love” or “darling” as a matter of course and not in a weird way.

Sticker shock? Yes. Culture shock? Of course. Still happily traveling? Absolutely!

--Z

Connecting with Cambodia

Photos: Cambodia: Battambang

• Thursday, Dec 16: Relaxed and chatted with Aroma boys in the morning; took cooking class at Tigre de Papier and made fish amok and mango salad; spent the rest of the day chatting and hanging out with the Aroma boys; dinner with Sebastian (lok lak again); bought beers for the guys at the guest house; said good-byes.
• Friday, Dec 17: Took morning “bus” (really a small pickup with twenty passengers stuffed into it) to Tonle Sap pier; took slow boat to Battambang, took about eight hours; checked in to Paris Hotel with Gretta; dinner at White Rose; to bed early!
• Saturday, Dec 18: Up for breakfast at 8am; took a tuk-tuk to the bamboo train and discovered the corruption of new tourist attractions; explored Phom Sampeou with a fourteen-year-old as our guide; relaxed back at the room; out for a late lunch/early dinner; massage by Seeing Hands; out for a drink; to bed at midnight.
• Sunday, Dec 19: Up early to catch bus; said good-bye to Gretta; caught minivan to bus station; bus to Poipet; mini-van to border, where we were dropped off in the middle of a roundabout; walked through border control, first Cambodian side and then, longer wait at the Thai side; somewhere inbetween my bus ticket was taken and exchanged for a piece of blue tape; on Thai side, a minivan picked us up and we drove for three hours to Bangkok; dropped off in Khao San area; checked into same guest house as before.

 

The last week and a half has been an amazing run of meeting fascinating people. In Sihanoukeville, a hippy Turkish couple started making me realize that I wasn’t allowing myself to connect with the local people. The care they took in learning about their hosts at the guest house, knowing their names and situations and personalities, was a real wakeup call for me. I like to think of myself as friendly and out-going and open-minded, but as I’ve been traveling I’ve picked up an “us vs them” mentality. That is to say, a “tourist versus local” kind of view. This was really cemented in Vietnam.

Kampot showed me that the Cambodians are kind and caring, when they offered quiet support and care during my sick days, but I still didn’t learn the names of the guys who brought me fruit and asked how I was feeling. In Kep and Rabbit Island, I kept mostly to myself. In Sihanoukeville, I learned about the young girls working at the guest house and it’s restaurant, thanks to the Turkish couple. I learned to relax and joke with the Cambodian employees at the guest house, instead of just viewing them as servers. And when I made it to Siem Reap, I met someone who completed the lesson for me: Vivi from Germany.

When I arrived at the Aroma Daily guest house in Seam Reap, I was tired. It had been a twelve-hour bus day, complete with an army of tuk-tuk drivers clamoring for my attention and business the minute I stepped off the bus. At the time I was frustrated, but my tuk-tuk driver ended up taking me to a guest house that had me hooked from the moment I arrived. Two women about my age, whom I couldn’t see because they were sitting out in the dark courtyard, called out, “Hello!” when we pulled up. I checked in to a room and immediately came downstairs, asking if I could join the girls. They were Vivi from Germany and Gretta from Australia. I didn’t realize at first that there were several Cambodian men sitting with them, and when I did, I felt awkward.

That lasted all of thirty seconds. Vivi introduced me to everyone, and everyone seemed quite glad to meet me and make room for me to sit and join them. The next five days  were such fun! Not only were the temples amazing and breathtaking, but my experiences just sitting and chatting with Trea, Sam, Same, Taom, Sopheak, Srei and Savannah, not to mention Vivi and Gretta, was a real treat. I learned – somewhat - to interpret their humor, to repeat a few words and learn a bit of the language, and to get to know these people. To tell the truth, Vivi’s openness, friendliness and absolute adoration for all things Cambodian – including her boyfriend/fiance – was completely  infectious and made me feel at ease right away. She is one of those characters that make an everlasting impression on you in a multitude of ways.

I was in Siem Reap for six days and after my first day, I most looked forward to meeting and chatting with the Aroma boys. Trea was quiet and barely said anything, but when he laughed, his whole face lit up. Sam was friendly and eager. Same was a wanna-be player/gangster, but in a joking way; he teaches the others Khmer boxing and makes quite a show if he thinks he’s been slighted. Taom seemed younger than the others and was pretty  excitable, but was the first to 

jump up when I came downstairs. Sopheak, brother to the woman who ran the guest house, was serious until I managed to draw him out a bit. He didn’t smoke or drink like the others, so he was a bit apart, but one-on-one he was wonderful to talk to. His English was the best out of everyone. Srei was playful and head over heels in love with  Vivi, who felt the same about him. And Savannah was also a surprise, since I had felt uncomfortable around him at first and later, he would flash a huge grin at me and wave when I went by. Unfortunately, VIvi and Srei left after my second day; they were going to Srei’s parent’s house, to introduce Vivi and announce their plans for marriage. They got back after I had left for Battambang. 

I hope that I’m able to hold onto the lesson I feel like I was learning in Cambodia: to view and treat and talk to all these locals as real people, not just salespeople 

catering to tourists. It will be hard and in some cases impossible – the big cities are toughest – but my six days in Siem Reap really taught me the reality of travel: meeting not just other travelers, but the locals who are proud of their country and want to share everything  with those willing to listen. 

When I answered the Aroma boy’s question of whether I would come back to Cambodia, they frowned. “Don’t say maybe,” they insisted. “That means you don’t care.”

I can say yes with no hesitation. Cambodia is the first place I’ve been where I felt absolutely drawn to return, whether for another visit or to work I’m not sure. It’s such a mix of rough living conditions and devastating poverty that it surprises me that I want to go back. While I was sick I was terrified that I would need, and not have access to, medical help. I don’t think it would be easy to work or volunteer in Cambodia, in terms of living there.

But I can say absolutely: Yes, I will come back to Cambodia.

--Z