Hamilton 2 Auckland

Waking up early and well rested from some nice kava, we hit the road. En route I pick up another meat pie and something called a sausage roll (greasy sausage baked in philo dough), have a massive heart attack, and then get back on the road.

With time to kill we decide to stop in Hamilton to check out the famous gardens. They have a good bunch of different exhibits there, the best of which was the American modernist garden (obviously). We would have stayed longer but most shops were closed as today is a holiday. Apparently the Auckland anniversary is celebrated today, but really only the North island seems to care.

I’ve started to realize nobody really likes Auckland here. It’s just too big and crowded to stand out as a nice place in such an amazing country. Although I now wish I was attending school south in Queenstown or Wellington, I think I’ll probably learn to like it here.

To stay out of the busyness for two nights we settle in a suburb of Auckland called Parnell. It is pleasant but looks expensive so we’ll be cooking in for the night. I suspect I’ll have to cook for myself more often while I’m here because eating out is so expensive here and apparently nobody eats out quite as often as Americans.

Here in Parnell we are staying at a pleasant little backpacker place, which is a nice change from the busy city life we’ve been experiencing... and hopefully some calm before the storm of living in the middle of Auckland. Joe and I are in a little three bed room and our roommate is a shy German girl who seems scared of us. She probably should be.

KAVA

So, on our way back up to Auckland from Wellington, Joe and I are sitting on the side of the road, finishing up our PB & J’s from the evening (beans were a bit of a luxury), and, as the sun goes down inspiration strikes. Neither of us is very tired, and we’re bored, so we decide to drink the kava I bought in Fiji. It was a genius plan.

Kava is the national drink of Fiji, and from what I’ve been told Mormons are big on it as well (they cannot consume mind altering substances, but body altering is okay I guess). So kava is a basically a root that you mix in water (like tea) and it relaxes your muscles. It’s legal in the US, but I guess just nobody does it.

We thought we were going to need to steep the kava in water using pantyhose, and neither Joe nor I want to buy pantyhose, so we are thrilled to find the packet came with it’s own strainer.

I kept a log of the events in my journal:

(I know that is difficult to read, so I will translate):

8:30 OPEN KAVA

8:35 PREPARE KAVA

8:40 DRINK KAVA

8:45 JO BRINGS OUT HEADPHONES. WE LISTEN TO PIXIES

8:50 FINISH FIRST ROUND OF KAVA. I CANNOT FEEL TONGUE

8:51 SPILL KAVA ON D***. CANNOT FEEL D***.

9:00 STILL W/ BASIC MOTOR SKILLS WE MAKE ANOTHER BATCH

9:05 MOTOR SKILLS BEGIN TO FADE

9:20 VERY NUMB

9:30 (Juvenile drawing of a kiwi bird)

I then pass out in the car. When I wake up I have scars on my face. Joe is sleeping in the middle of a riverbed.

In short, kava is a great way to relax my muscles from all the hiking and walking we’ve been doing. I sleep like a baby that evening, wake up around 7, and hit the road for Auckland.

(Full disclosure: Kava is not this gnarly. I completely exaggerated the results)

Joe Makes A Post!

Alas, by popular demand, our very own JOE STATOM has made a blog post concerning our evening in Wellington:

    The dutch are funny. Funnier than the Brits. And more comprehensible than the Scotts. That's one thing I've learned here in Nu Zillund. Amazingly, we are rooming again with The Flying Dutchman. (Our roommate from Raglan. Everybody has these Lonely Planet books!) So the night starts off with the Dutchman (aka Patrick) cooking us a mean pasta for four. We eat, play cards, drink, and learn some stupid Dutch tricks. Then our crew heads out for the night. (In retrospect, way too many dudes)
    We go to the same bar as last night. This time there's a boxing match on TV so it's way more crowded. We buy a couple pitchers when suddenly these two weirdos sit at the same table as us. One was strangely drunk. The other never spoke and looked straight out of the movie Deliverance. The drunk guy starts trying to talk to me and asks me where I'm from. I tell him and he says, "Yeah I know SLO. I f@cked the mayor of SLO's daughter at a Steely Dan Concert at the Mid State Fair." I thought that would be the quote of the night.
    I talk to this guy in order to try and seem nice, but his questions/answers just start becoming louder and more incomprehensible. He offers me a sip of his mixed drink. I'm scared that it's ruffied but more scared of pissing him off, so I take a tiny sip. Finally he tells me to come outside to talk. I say that we're about to leave, but he tells me again to come outside. I tell him that I'm just gonna grab another beer at the bar and then meet him there. Then we get the hell outta there. That guy was really creeping me out. I didn't want the toothless guy to make me "squeal like a pig".
    So we go to the Irish bar next door. But as soon as we get in, we see a room full of "little people" dancing to a live band playing Guns N' Roses. This isn't exactly our scene, so we start heading out the door. All of the sudden, these two girls walk in and one sticks her tongue out at Vince. We had to investigate. Vince starts talking with one and she is just amazed that he is from California. She would keep introducing him to friends saying, "This is Vince, he's from California." I've never said, "Wait. I'm from California too!" so many times in my life.
    "Oooh my Gaawd, California?? Are you from the OC? Do you know Lauren Conrad?!!!" We gotta lot of that during the night. Also, we were in High School Musical with Zach Effron. Take one word away from that sentence and it's true…. We eventually get the real quote of the night from these girls. It pertains to how our accents make them feel, but it's a little too PG-13 for this audience. Vince decides to buy them drinks after calling me a cheap bastard for not buying them. However, as I suspected, they only stay as long as their vodka and red bulls are full. So they run off after finishing their drinks. It's a good way to get free alcohol I guess. We rebound with 60 cent ice cream cones at McDonalds (the only thing cheap in NZ) and pass out.

Wellington Part II

You know how in America the girls just go CRAZY for guys with accents? Well apparently that works for Americans in downtown Wellington as well. Also, I told a lot of people that I was good friends with Zac Efron last night, and that worked pretty well too.

Wellington Night 1

So Joe and I had just arrived at the bars in downtown Wellington, and we order a pitcher. Some kiwi bloke then comes up and tells me “Ay mate ya did it all wrong!” And proceeds to tell me which beers cost the same as the one that I ordered, but that have 4.6% alcohol instead of just 4%. Friendly guy, and he liked us because we were from California. 

All of a sudden this girl comes up to us and gets ALL over Joe, flirting like hell with him, trying to kiss him, and then giving us her best California impersonation, which just consisted of her repeatedly requesting of us to “Ooo slap me bum! Slap ma’ bum!”

And basically that’s how the best picture of all time came to be. Also, the picture is even better because she was the other guy’s girlfriend.

Downtown Welly is awesome, although we were confined to a limited set of bars. Several of the big “clubby” bars wouldn’t let us in because we were wearing sandals - or “Jandals” as they call them here.

Needless to say we’ll be going out in shoes this evening, on the hunt for the finest California impersonation we can find.

One highlight of the night came from our dutch friend who came out with us (miraculously this guy, our roommate back in Raglan, was placed as our roommate in Wellington), on our walk back home when he told Joe and I, “I like you guys because you’re grandpa saved my grandpa’s life.” Felt damn proud to be an American.

Wellington

I wake up this morning around 7 am in the front of the car, a bit sore and sunburned, but excited to see Wellington. Blame it on the lack of sleep or the enthusiastic driving, but about 30 minutes into the drive I see a small, shiny little red coup behind me start flashing lights. Shit... Kiwi cop cars are not well marked.

My first speeding ticket EVER comes from one of the nicest cops in the world, who approaches the car, arms completely tattoed and with a tooth missing “Ay mate, yous way ‘oin about 115 kilos peh howah in a 100 zone, but I’m gonna put ya at 113 o’ else yeh’d be payin’ uh wehhh biggah ticket.”  Or at least thats what I though he said.  Long story short, it’s only an 80 dollar ticket and taught me a good lesson, because I’ve been going much slower (You’re welcome, Mom and Dad).

Anyways, we finally make it to Wellington, and after a few near-collisions due to some hectic big-city-wrong-side-of-the-road, we find our hostel and explore the city.

The botanical gardens here are wonderful, especially because so many flowers is such a nice thing to see for me, someone who should be deep into winter right now.

Wellington is New Zealand’s capital, so there are lots of governmental building’s here that Joe doesn’t give a damn abut but that I love. I got to tour the Parliament here, which is nicknamed “The Beehive” and was really quite pretty.  My tour guide was also sarcastic as hell which was a nice touch.

Joe and I, craving fish and chips, head downtown to a good place he had read about.  We order a bit extra, because we’re hungry and weary of the smaller portion sizes here, get a larger meal. We were not disappointed (more overwhelmed than anything) and ate ourselves completely sick.

St Paul's is a famous church here, and although they were setting up for a concert they still let me check it out.  It's 150 years old and wood, so it not only looks cool but smelled nice and rustic.

Wellington seems like a nice town (the girls are the hottest I’ve seen) so tonight should be a fun night on the bars. Expect good stories/pictures tomorrow.

Mt Doom!

Waking up early after our last night in Rotorua (which featured Joe singing Danish drinking songs with some Danes we found, again), we head South to Mordor (Taupo region) in order to brave the elements and ascend Mt Doom (as made famous by the Lord of the Rings trilogy).

So, the mountain isn’t actually named Mt. Doom (much to my dismay, it’s named Ngauruhoe), but we’ll still call it that for the sake of cinematics.  At about noon we pull into the parking lot for the trailhead, but right as we’re leaving we ask a park ranger how to get to the mountain, and she just says it’s too late so we shouldn’t do it. Never ones to be set astray from a magnificent challenge, Joe and I find the trail head and set off for ourselves.

Immediately I begin to recognize scenery from the LOTR trilogy, and when Mt Doom, eye at it’s center and all, gets into sight, I am struck by just how awesome this whole scenery is.

The hike there is quite difficult, and Joe and I get sunburned as all hell on the way up (the UV rays are much more intense here, I believe due to a hole in the ozone layer around Australia). However, needless to say, the sights at the top are absolutely breathtaking. Imagine a completely 360 view from atop a massive volcanic mountain with nothing in view but two brilliantly blue crater lakes, a couple other active volcanoes, and absolutely no civilization - no roads, no cars, no planes.

Heading down to the car we decide to get off the trail for a bit to check out a waterfall nearby. This proved to be one of the highlights of the trip when Joe just hopped right under it and took his little shower for the day.  I was a bit more timid, but got under as well.  The water wasn’t too cold, not too painful coming down, and refreshing as all hell.

We then proceed to hit the road down South to Wellington (Joe driving for the first time - he did very well), and stop with about 2 hours left to make dinner (bean sandwiches, obviously) and sleep on the side of the road, blown away by the day behind us, and quite excited for the city ahead of us.

Rotorua II

I think I’ve finally accepted that I don’t really like the tacky tourist things that I thought I did. Most people shy away from the idea of being a typical tourist - but I embrace it. Why act like a knowledgeable local in a place that is actually foreign to you? The goofier the draw to the attraction, the stronger my urge is to see it. However, traveling in a foreign country and forking out the cash for every little thing really makes you think twice about how you spend your days.  And that is how Joe and I travelled to Lake Okataina today.

Upon first arriving in Rotorua, the tourism capital of the North Island, we are enticed by all of the awesome-sounding things to do here. Skydiving, mud baths, fancy food, Maori culture shows, and the one that looked coolest to us - zorb balls (essentially rolling in a giant hampster ball down a hill. I know, it sounds awesome) are hailed as essential stops during our stay.

However, all of those things cost ridiculous amounts of money, and this is a story of two scrappers in New Zealand for way too long to be blowing that much money this quickly. So, open for new, free ideas, we bequest of the owner of the hostel for suggestions, he suggests Lake Okataina, and we head out.

The drive there is completely empty and involved many windy back roads. When we get there there is only one other car in the parking lot, but the lake is absolutely stunning. Our hike is about 5.5 miles to one end and the same back, extremely beautiful the entire time. The water, which we take a dip in several times, is insanely clear and warm. The trail is completely green, and the occasional fallen tree in the middle of the way is much more of a fun obstacle than a neuissance.

Along the trail we actually run into a few Americans. I can tell they are American because the father is discussing 

some matters of the Senate, and no foreigner in their right mind would go so far to try and figure out our politics.  At the end of the trail Joe and I swim for a bit, and eat out edam cheese sandwiches (edam cheese is what they call American cheese here. We didn’t know that at the time of purchase). It sounds cheesy, but the times between or discussions of “best comedy of all time” and “girl from our graduating class you’d most want to bang now,” I am almost overwhelmed by the massive sounds of nature around us. I have never really experienced a place so truly far away from civilization (no cars, planes, people) and so comfortable at the same time. 

We skip rocks for a while, I proceed to tell Joe that I am the best rock skipper I know, and he tells me “skipping rocks sucks”.

Back at the hostel we prepare ourselves a wonderful meal of eggs on top of rice (not too bad), and tonight we’re making plans for our trip down to Wellington. It’s a long trek down, so we may spend tomorrow night in a town along the way. I am currently pushing for hiking up the mountain that was Mt. Doom in Lord of the Rings, but Joe seems less enthusiastic.

Rotorua

Rotorua is a quaint little city. I can tell it’s a bit more touristy, but I don’t really mind that because 1) We are tourists and 2) We’re pretty good at avoiding the tourist stuff we don’t like.  The place we’re staying has internet, but like most of New Zealand, you have to pay by the amount you use instead of just time. This means text is much easier to upload than pictures, so this update will be a bit plain.

Yesterday we pull into the hostel called “Funky Green Voyagers”.  It was the travelbook recommendation, and we weren’t disappointed. The owner is a very friendly and very well travelled bloke, who, to my surprise, had been all over San Luis Obispo, our hometown.  Also, this place plays amazing music. Joe and I were caught singing some Doobie Brothers passionately while sitting in the living room.  We didn't realize we were doing it, but the Irish folk here thought it was hilarious.

Joe and I decide to check out the beautiful (and free!) redwood forest on the edge of town, and are not disappointed. This place is massive, and there are several side trails which we choose to take over the more-treaded main trails. Obviously, we get lost for about an hour after we realize we weren’t following a trail at all.  Quotable quotes from Joe while we were lost:

“I can’t figure out if we’re following a trail or if I’m just making patterns like in A Beautiful Mind.”

“I think we’re lost. It’s Garrett’s fault”

Me: “I don’t know if this way goes anywhere”

Joe: “Well it goes somewhere”

We eventually make it out alive, head back to the hostel, cook up some dinner (I BBQ’ed some lamb for the first time in my life. Something went wrong. Mom or Dad - you’ll have to show me how when I get home) and played some backgammon. After backgammon, this Rain Man-esque fellow literally just emerges from the corner of the room and challenges Joe and I to Connect Four. He was eerily good, and started eating our chocolate...

Today, I’m talking to the owner early this morning (I’m still waking up on California time) and say we were thinking about going on the Eastern Okataina Walkway, which looked like a nice walk. He responds something like:

“Crikey! That’s a beaauuuutiful sight to see mate! Don’t tell any other blokes about it though! Gotta keep ‘t a ‘ecret though! Nobody knows about it, so you an your mate can go skinna’ dippen’ there! In fact (points to son), when I first met his mum I took her to that lake to go skinna’ dippen’ ‘cause I knew she’d love it so much she’d come visit me again from Germany! And as you can see... (he winks in the direction of his son)... it worked!”

Needless to say that was convincing enough for me, and once Joe finishes his water on cereal (a bit of a staple for him on this trip) we’ll be off.

East to Waitomo

After a truly wonderful time in Raglan, we decide to head to the mystical glowworm caves of Waitomo...

 However, on the way out of town we come across a road block. At this point I'm actually pretty concerned we will never leave Raglan (kind of like the movie Groundhog's Day), and when I ask a store owner in this little pit stop town what's up, she tells me there's an accident down the road, and I guess they just close the entire highway whenever there's any accidents. However, if someone is "at fault" for the accident, they need an insurance photographer, the closest being in Auckland, which is well over an hour's drive. Long story short, Joe and I sat on the side of the road for a very long time contemplating how charmingly primitive this country is...

On the way to Waitomo we  decide to stop by Hamilton, which is a relatively big city. They had very nice gardens, a massive river, and some shopping areas.  However, the highlight I was most intent on seeing was the erected statue of Richard O'Brien, a Hamilton hairdresser when he wrote the script for one of my favorite cult classic films, The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Then, (Dad would be proud) we checked out a really nice church on a hill there. St John's or Andrew's I believe. Apparently the Kiwi's are not very religious folk, so it was a treat seeing such an ornate little structure

Leaving to Waikoto, we passed by this large Kiwi statue on the way, and being tourists with a travelblog, we had to take a picture.

Once we arrived to Waitomo, it was apparent this town revolved around the glowworm caves. All of the stores, cafe's, and hotels were all cave or worm themed.  However, we had a good time away from the caves playing frisbee for a bit and exploring the "blackwater" river leading into the caves

I was pretty intent on seeing the glowworms, being a biology enthusiast, and Joe didn't mind throwing down money for the adventure so long as we saved money later in the night by sleeping in the van (turned out to be a grrrreat idea).  The caves were incredible. We show up to the headquarters, they toss us on a bus, and we drive about 15 minutes to the middle of some farm, all the while our Kiwi driver is cracking jokes and telling us the geology of the land.

Once to the cave, we climb down about 200 feet or so and enter into this pitch black area, lit only by the occasional candle of film flash.  The glowworms were impossible to get a good photo of, but no photo could capture how cool these things were. On the roof of the cave were hundreds of these fascinating larvae, illuminating the cave like stars. We had heard it described as a mystic experience, and I felt nothing short of amazed by it all

After the tour we stroll along for a bit to pass the time and make ourselves tired so sleeping in the car will be a bit more bearable.

Heading back to the car, we decide to have the ultimate scrapper night - spending as little money as we possibly could. This included:

Cheap beer and canned beans:

When Joe decided to get fancy, bean sandwiches:

For our second entree, uncooked ramen with the packed of sauce it came with:

Which was actually pretty good:

 We played rummy till sunset:

And slept in the car, which is really, really small:

Joe had a bit rougher time sleeping in the car than I did, and at one point even took his sleeping bag outside to sleep on the ground, but came back to the car when he "Got too scared a possum was going to eat my face off"

This morning I woke up early and drove East to Rotorua, which is the North Island's largest tourist city. Along the way I got a famous meat pie which was about 2 inches wide, 2,000 calories, and stick-to-your-ribs-delicious-and-filling.  Rotorua is a lovely city, and the hostel we are staying at is run by a jolly Kiwi who likes rugby and American football (he informed me the Packers won on Sunday!!!) We like it here and will probably stay for a bit, so long as we don't run out of cheap ways to have fun.