I haven't had time to write about my last 3 weeks in NZ, so I'll have to skip that for now and get it down later. Basically, we had a blast going up the North Island, walking on dunes, doing donuts in my car on 90 mile beach in the middle of the night, etc etc. It costs $8 an hour for internet, so this will be only one of two postings from here.

I was sad (*sniff*) that I didn't get to walk to the famous Tongariro crossing. It's a one-day walk that looks like your hiking across the face of Mars--steaming pools, no trees, wierd colored rock--that's covered in snow right now. So I opted to take a drive with Ben around Lake Taupo and check out the mountain from the highway. We went around Tongariro and hardly got a glimpse thanks to poor weather. We were circling around it when I stopped at a sign that said Maori village excavation site.

We spent our next to last night on the South Island camped out on the beach in the rain. We were dead set on building an (illegal) bonfire, but had only picked up a few pieces of firewood and an axe from good old Swampy's Backpacker. While we were setting up the tent in the dark at around 9 pm, some cars drove up and settled in the carpark. We were a bit nervous for some reason, but I thought it was a bunch of kids out to do what we were trying. So I grabbed the wood and newspaper and found them on the beach...building a bonfire! We added our chunks and had a nice one going for a few hours, but is was really wet outside! We slept in till noon the next day because the rain just kept coming.

After only a week, we've made it halfway up the North Island. We crossed the Cook Straight on Monday(I think) and only spent an hour or so in Wellington. The crossing was uneventful; calm seas, but foggy and rainy so we couldn't see anything. The national musuem Te Papa in Wellington is really cool, though, and has a ton of awesome interactive exhibits and cool Maori artifacts.

For example, consider my last few days on the road. We have been driving over curvy roads in the mountains of Fiordland National Park covered with grit/gravel for the "ice" that wasn't there. Try walking on marbles; its easier. A few days later, we're in Wanaka. As I slow down to take Ben down the scenic lakefront drive, I notice a wobbling. Its not the earth, or my eyes, or even my brain on some wild trip--its the car, and I can't tell where its coming from...

Ever.

But we made it around to Milford Sound and back already. It's been a good time so far, and I am officially the poorest I have ever been in my life. But hey, that's money for you: As soon as its in your pocket, a woman tricks you into buying her things, or you lose your wallet, or you get hungry and buy a lot of muffins. We ate 12 yesterday. Muffins, I mean.

The real news is that we uploaded the new pictures from Mary's fancy camera. (Thanks Mom2!) So enjoy the new photos. Tony should be jealous of Ben's skill with the camera. Some of these are really good!

New Pics!

We've been moving a lot the last few days. After camping out and freezing our butts off, we retreated back to Blenheim for a night to warm ourselves and watch a few episodes of The Office. We got off to a slow start the next day and had resigned ourselves to driving to the west coast at night. But we stopped halfway there at Nelson Lakes and I couldn't resist the nice clear weather. So we hiked three hours in the dark with just a torch between us to a hut at the southern end of Lake Rotoiti. We were expecting to find the place empty since it is the middle of winter...

It's a total crock. Almost everyone on these buses is 18-19 year old British kid who is probably more interested in getting pissed at the pub than really experiencing the country. We (regular backpackers) call them bratpackers. Buses drop you off at YHA hostels that are sterile, rigid, and lack character; people there aren't really interested in meeting people outside of their clique.

Why am I ranting? Because someone has to, and so I can compare my experience to some other standard, even if that standard is lacking. For example, this weekend I went camping in the freezing cold next to a river in the middle of nowhere and stayed up all night trying to catch eels with a spear. The week before I went to the eastern coast of the South Island (White's Bay) and went diving for paua (that's Maori for abalone.) Which sounds better?

And it was. The people there weren't the nicest I've met. The HelpX website says you should work about 4 hours a day in exchange for room and board. I also expect to get something else out of my stay, something unique. I can work my butt off somewhere else and get paid; I want something special here.

All I did was dig up earth for 6 hours for a silly rock wall. I didn't even get a "thank you" or a "good job", just a dinner at which me and my friend worker were ignored the whole time. I was treated like a guest, but rather an itinerit worker of little consequence. I was supposed to stay until Sunday but I left on Thursday morning...and I forgot my $200 boots. I want to drive my car off a cliff.

I also got sick from working in the wind and cold and I've spent the last week getting better. Now that I've healed up enough, I'm taking off for a week in the wilderness to clear my soul, as Emerson would have done. Ben will be here next week. Gotta get ready for nonstop travel again. It'll be hard now that I feel like I live here and not just passing through.

...

Got it? Yes, now laugh with me. Good. Moving on!

I finally quit the vineyard on Thursday. I don't know how much I made, but I have over $1200 in the bank and a few hundred in my pocket. I really should have made more, but my hands are big balls of cramped muscle, so I couldn't work as fast as I could for 8 hours straight.

But the real news is that I'm leaving for Port Ligar. It's way out in the sounds, on the northern tip of the South Island. I'm staying on a farm/bed and beakfrast about 2 hours on a windy one-lane road (check out the pics). It's a big family that runs the place and there is also a japanese and kiwi girl working there.

Check the Pictures!!

My fifth week working the vines... I believe I said I would be on the North Island soon, back on June 5th. Not so. I still wear my secateurs low and back on my right hip, backpack full of food and water, and loppers hung under my arm. I feel like a cowboy; a "vine-slinger". Ripping through plants at a blinding speed of 20 per hour. Well, its good enough for more than $100 a day.

I've decided this is my last week. I've had some great times and made a bit of money, but my hands are constantly aching and I wake up with useless claws. I've also lost sight of my orignal goal for this trip: to experience life in rural NZ. I've only been on one farm in all this time. I met a great Kiwi and Maori, but really don't know much about the people of this country or the lives they lead.

I'm typically scientific in my pruning. I'm always watching others, asking questions, and testing theories--in addition to working my butt off. I've also met some interesting people. Of everyone here, Grant is by far the most newsworthy. He's a real Maori. He knows the language, the songs, and the history. My favorite activity so far is to listen to him sing traditional Maori songs and listen to stories about his people or explain some aspect of their culture. How better to learn about the nose press, the haka, or the prophecies of the Waitaha people who predated even the Maori in NZ.

Nick and Nicola--very nice English from England, Reading (I think) to be precise. We walked together on the track and I stayed at another hostel at their recommendation. I forgot my camera, so they took pictures for me. Maybe there will be new pics to look at! The first ones in weeks. Had a great time at the smaller hostel, flirting with a Japanese girl named Mami. Small, cute, typically Japanese expressions and interjections ("US A OK")... Will you marry me? I ask her. Not on the first date, she says. What about tomorrow? I think I'm going to learn Japanese.

There are two issues: dislocated from everything I know, I no longer am sure who I am--and with such a constant uncertainty as my own identity, how am I to connect with others to form a meaningful experience out of such transient relationships? And thirdly, why am I using such a complicated sentence structure? I think the stress has gotten to me...

She and her husband emigrated from the UK over 40 years ago and are naturalized citizens of NZ. Her father was a career soldier and her family travelled all over the world to live with him at his different posts. She told me about living in Ghana, recalling some of her favorite memories of visiting local chieftans. Her father was the last British military officer in charge of the country's defences while the country's shift to independence was established.

I ride horses now, but not very well (at least according to the high standards I set for myself.) English riding is very, very complicated. Good riders can make a horse do almost anything, including jumping huge fences, ditches, and puddles, then doing a pirouette, walking backwards, and then trotting sideways. But I'm really into it. I rode a good-looking chestnut TB gelding named Toby every day the sun was shining and read about four different books on technique. I can do the 3 basic paces--walk, rising trot, canter--and I can of course turn and stop. Stanford has a stables and I'm surely riding as much as possible when I get there.

Current hobbies to date: sailing, rock climbing, horseback riding, aikido, tramping, snowboarding (though I'm hardly any good at any of them)

Still need to try kiteboarding :) Now in Christchurch again, hopefully getting my car inspected early tomorrow. Then I'm off for some rejuvinating hot spring baths up in the mountains, and then swimming with dolphins before coming back to Christchurch for Super 14 rugby semi-final game on Saturday.