Friday, April 27, 2007

Te Anau, Milford Sound April 27th




Today I was excited! It was sheep sheering day!! After leaving Invercargill I was pretty pumped up because today was the day I would learn one of NZ's oldest professions and certainly the one they are most famous for. When we arrived at the farm we were given a lesson in how the dogs rounded up the sheep and let me tell you I was impressed! These dogs controlled the heard so well without even barking, at one point the lab even jumped up on top of the moving sheep and ran along their heads and bodies! Very cool. Next I picked up the clippers and decided that one particular sheep was letting himself go so I gave him the 'ol marine job.













I wasn't aware but apparently sheep sheering is a huge deal. There are even competitions with awards and records for it. The farmer was extremely proud that in 2004 the top ten best sheep shearers in the world came from New Zealand.



.......um........don't ask........

Once the show was over we all made our way to Te Anau for the night before continuing on the Milford Sound. In order to really see all the bay had to offer we hopped on a boat which gave us some spectacular scenery on the way out to the ocean before it turned around and took us to the underwater aquarium.












Now I'm back in Queenstown, possibly leaving for Wanaka again but I'm not sure. Love you all, enjoy the pics!

Dunedin,Catlins,Invercargill,Stewart Island, April 27th




Hello hello! I left Queenstown a disheveled mess and headed for Dunedin for some rest and relaxation. This part of the tour is not as popular but severely underrated! After spending a night in Dunedin we headed down to the town that Mick Jagger once referred to as the "asshole of the world." It's called Invercargill and it's the southernmost town on the south island of New Zealand. I have to say that even though it was the late 60's when Mick made that comment, he was not far off!! There were some good photo ops along the way though.




We stopped off in the Caitlins to check out some sea lions on one of the coastal beaches, this is a pretty big deal as there are only around 100 of these particular variety that still exist. These things are HUGE! They're almost like cows and can actually move pretty quickly when they have to!






After that, two friends and I decided to really get out there so we chartered a plane to take us to Stewart Island. (This is probably as far south as I will ever go in my life.) The whole island is really exotic as it is home to some extremely rare wildlife like yellow eyed penguins, sea lions and a special species of dolphin. This doesn't include the literally hundreds of birds that also inhabit the island and the surrounding area. Stewart Island apparently has more millionaires than any other place in New Zealand but I can't imagine why! The place is REALLY remote with one grocery store and one bar, creatively named "BAR." The first day we got there we rented bikes and biked out to the lighthouse.






The next day I did a guided kayak tour around the island and then took off for half a day with a friend. This is where the magic happened! As I was paddling around by myself I noticed movement in the water a little ways off. I paddled over and low and behold there were about 15 wild dolphins just jumping and playing around! I raced them for a couple of hundred meters as they jumped right out of the water within inches of me! The guide told me that was the second time in 25 years that she has ever even seen dolphins so close to a kayaker!!! Sweet!





Thursday, April 19, 2007

Wanaka, Queenstown (Bungy Birthday) April 20



I have to say that if I could live in one place in New Zealand it would have to be Wanaka! This place is so beautiful that I'm going back there in a few days since I only got to spend a night! The wind was coming off the lake, the leaves were changing colours, it felt like a Robert Frost Poem!! Seriously thought the people are so nice and I think Wanaka has the fun of Queenstown but is a little less touristy and obviously smaller. I'll write more about the place when I go back!

We arrived in Queenstown, "the adventure capital of New Zealand," on the 18th and I'm here until the 22nd. We celebrated our arrival by drinking ourselves silly at the World Bar, (or as my American friends call it, "The US Bar.") During happy hour you can buy a teapot of cocktail for $7.50 which sounds pretty cheap but not when you polish off three or four a night and then have 10 beers to wash them down! Needless to say the next morning was particularly rough and we were relatively well behaved the next night because we knew that today was my birthday. And what better way to celebrate your birthday by doing the "Nevis" bungy jump?!? This is the third highest bungy jump in the world, it boasts a 143m (440 ft) drop that gives you 8.5 seconds of free fall. You have to ride up the side of the Nevis Bluff in a bus before they harness you up and then put you on a cable car that takes you out over the middle of the canyon. This is actually quite unnerving as when you step off the cable car onto the suspended platform the whole thing shakes and sways in the wind and you realize that
1) This thing isn't all that stable and
2) You are about to launch yourself off it where you attain terminal velocity about a third of the way through the fall.

Seeing as it was my birthday and I was the heaviest person there (88kg so no fat jokes please!) the staff deemed it appropriate that I take the plunge first. For the last few days I've been looking at distant mountain tops and thinking to myself, "it's not as far away as it is from here to that mountain top." I thought that if I kept doing this there was a chance I would psyche myself up enough that I wouldn't be nervous. I was still nervous. But I was so excited that I was finally going to do it and I could start dreaming about something else that I was pretty pumped. I stepped up onto the platform, heard the instructor start the count down and then I took a deep breath and looked out over the expanse. I'm not kidding it was like I was in a sound proof bubble, everything went quiet and I couldn't hear a thing. Then I looked down, spread my arms and jumped out as far as I could. I will NEVER forget this feeling for as long as I live!!!
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Monday, April 16, 2007

Franz Joseph Glacier, April 16




Today was a day I was definitely looking forward to!! I signed up for the full day glacier hike on the Franz Joseph Glacier, I won't bore you with a lot of details as the pictures sort of speak for themselves. What I will say is that the sheer size of this things is spectacular!!! After 6 hours of hiking with a guide, crampons, and ice axes, (they were purely for show mind you!) we had only just reached the half way point and the view was amazing. I did manage to make an ass of myself at one point by losing my balance and bailing over the side of a crevice but luckily it wasn't that deep so we all had a good laugh! Enjoy!









That's Matt from Hamilton and Ben and Ryan from Tennessee.


































Saturday, April 14, 2007

Lake Mahinapua, April 14th



We left Westport today and travelled down the coast to a hostel owned by a man named Liz. Liz is 81 year's old, has recently broken his leg, looks like an elderly member of "ZZ Top" and has catered to the Kiwi sExperience since around 1991. That means that he has had continuous themed parties every single night for almost two decades. This was the most patient man I have ever met. (Some of you may have noted that I used the spelling of Experience with an "s" at the beginning, more about that later.)

On the way to the hostel we stopped off at a seal colony and a Possum museum in order to learn about a Kiwi "delicacy." See those little black blobs that look like squirrel shit? Those are seals.





Back to the possum museum. While some cultures consider these animals the equivalent of a large rodent, in New Zealand they are considered gourmet. All was going well until I was chosen to give food to the wild boar that was out back. I hopped over the fence and the little moat with the eels in it, (no joke,) proceeded to unlock the gate and let the pig into the enclosure. Things were looking up when all of a sudden the pig turned around and bit the shit out of my leg while trying to make a run at me. Luckily I managed to hide behind the door and then when the fat little bastard got bored I chucked the remainder of the food back out the door and locked it behind him. While I tried to regain my composure, everyone else in my group was busy trying not to piss their pants laughing.









We arrived at the hostel and the theme was a "P" party. So you had to go as something that began with a "P". There were a lot of policemen and pregnant people but being the seriously disturbed and twisted individual that I am I decided to do something a little different. I went as the "Playmate of the Year in 1993....Anna Nicole Smith."








While I didn't win the prize there were many in the audience who felt that I was robbed and that just because my costume did not toe the line and seriously challenged any shred of dignity, self restraint/respect, and moral fiber that I may have had left, I still made the biggest impression. I don't remember a lot of the night but apparently I was completely misbehaved as usual and both my parents would be extremely disappointed.

Now the whole thing of the "sExpereince." Before the party started the bus driver recognized the signs of a weed lover and invited me to smoke a joint with him. There I learned that the nickname for the Kiwi Experience has absolutely nothing to do with the people riding the bus, just the people who drive them! Now the driver assured me that if you are caught by another driver scoring with a passenger, you get a beating, literally. You have to lie on the floor while all the other drivers kick you repeatedly as hard as they can until they get bored. (This has actually led to some people getting seriously hurt, one poor little fella even got kicked in the head so hard he was dazed for a significant length of time.) Now here's the real kicker. When a driver gets down with a passenger there is a tradition that the driver signs her card that is her right of passage for the bus. But get this, there is a code whereby the drivers can actually alert other drivers of the easy chicks so as to improve their odds as well. For instance if a passenger has a set of "bunny ears" next to her name, she's a little loose in the caboose. However if she has a "3" beside her name she's into......well.......you get the idea.......is that hysterical or what???? HA!

A Rant, April 14th

About a week ago I picked up a used copy of Jack Kerouac's novel, "On the Road." A fictional novel that is loosely based on a part of Kerouac's life when he and a friend travel around the U.S. There are two things about this novel that got me thinking. First, Kerouac and his friend were always searching for IT, (what IT is, is never fully discussed but like Hunter Thompson's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" I suspect it has something to do with the American Dream.) Anyway Kerouac's book gave me some great advice. Always throughout life human nature has us worried about time. When things are going to happen, when the should have happened, when they will happen next has become extremely important to us. Perhaps the biggest hurdle to get over while travelling is letting go of this preconception. There is no time limit when travelling, you'll get there when you do, just so long as you end up at your destination eventually relax and enjoy the ride.

The second point I would like to make has to do with Americans in general. I am sick of hearing other countries shitbag Americans. (In no way does the following rant have anything to do with me approving anything the American government has done in the last 5 years by the way, little side note to keep in mind before you read on.) I actually feel sorry for American travellers. I have seen everything from fist fights break out in bars to just an utter lack of respect for an individual purely based on the country he or she was born in and honestly I'm fucking tired of it. Ben and Ryan from Tennessee do not influence American foreign policy. They did not vote for Bush. They do not own a gun, support an evangelical movement, hate blacks, or believe that everything that the US does in the Middle East is for the greater good of the world. They do however have a great sense of humor and tell some amazing stories. But whenever someone finds out they're American they may as well have said that they are card-carrying members of the Nazi party. I think it's disgraceful the way Americans are treated abroad. I know they're not perfect, I don't agree with a lot of what the American government does either but that does not give anyone the right to treat them like a bunch of lepers.

In fact here's a thought. Some of you out there might be saying, "Well if American travellers go abroad and hear everyone complaining and treating them badly then they'll want to go home and change things to better the world's perception of their country." You, Sir or Madame, are an idiot. If you go to a restaurant and order a rare steak and the waitress takes an hour and a half to bring your meal and it's cooked well-done and accompanied by the incorrect appetizer are you going to go back? No of course not! Not only will you not go back but every time that you hear the name of the restaurant you will relate your experience in the hopes of discouraging your friends from entering the establishment. Same principle applies here. The world should be welcoming Americans travellers with open arms and showing them how great the other countries are and how friendly everyone is. As it is now, I can guarantee you there are a lot of Americans going back to the US saying, "shit, I'm never going travelling to (insert country here) again, those people are assholes!" Still don't believe me? Ever had a neighbor that's wronged you some way? Maybe they didn't return something, or filed to many noise complaints, whatever? When you get together with other people from the neighborhood what's the one thing that gives you more personal pleasure that anything else? Answer: venting you frustrations by shitbagging that person to no end!!

I've actually found that Canadians are far better than most in being more understanding. The US is our biggest trading partner, some of my good friends now work down there, and I love some parts of the United States. So the next time you see an American do me a favor, go up to them for me and give them a big hug. After all they're the only neighbour's we have.
There I'm done.

Westport, April Friday the 13th



I'm back on the bus again, headed down the west coast of the south island. I was sad to leave the trailor park as I met a lot of good people and shared quite a few laughs but alas all good things must come to an end. Take for example a friendship of mine that had deteriorated over the time I spent apple picking. I didn't have a working visa, so I met this girl who shall remain nameless and she told me I could use her visa/New Zealand bank account since she would be working at the same place I was. I now believe in God. For if in the last two weeks I have lived next door to Satan, then surely God and Heaven must exist or else this is all just one big cruel joke. I'm pretty sure that by the end of our time at the camp our hatred had grown to such extensive proportions that the only thing that surpassed our loathing for one another was the effort we were both putting in to save face and pretend that we didn't want to stab each other in the throat with a rusty screwdriver. By some bizarre set of circumstances we were able to maintain some basic form of communication that would enable us to understand each other while using the shortest words we could think of in order to minimize that amount of time that we actually had to spend in each other's company. If you took the words "pretentious" and "twat," melted them down into a ball of clay and then molded that ball of clay into a human form with hair you will begin to enter the realm of what I am talking about. It is over, I have the cash, I am moving on.......however I must be cautious as she's still behind me, possibly stalking me like a hunter would stalk their game and I am scared to fall asleep.

One final anecdote before I put this chapter to rest. After a long day of picking fruit I was tired but my mind was clear and I had a purpose. I hadn't eaten well in about 5 days and fate be damned I was going to cook a big spaghetti dish and then freeze some of it for another night. It was beautiful, you should have seen it! There were peppers and mushrooms, onions and ground beef with all the right spices. I was just about to dig in when I thought to myself, "why stop now?" I had an extra can of tomato sauce back in the cabin so my first instinct was to pour it into the already simmering sauce and stretch this meal out even farther. (This was my first introduction to some of the differences between the Kiwi culture and that of the Canuck.) For you see, in Canada "Ketchup" refers to the stuff you put on a hamburger and "tomato sauce" is the stuff that you make pasta with. But lo and behold the Kiwi's have it all mixed up! They call ketchup "tomato sauce" and tomato sauce "pasta sauce!" I realized the error of my ways after the second bite and gagged quite profusely. I had just spent 45 minutes cooking a $20 hot dog condiment. You know, there's a lot to be said for take-out pizza......as long as they make it with "pasta sauce" that is......

Here's some pics of my last night in Nelson. That's my buddy Beede after we had just hiked up to the center of New Zealand in Nelson.






Friday, April 6, 2007

Abel Tasman National Park, April 5



In order to avoid going stark, raving mad I decided to do a day trip this weekend to Abel Tasman National Park. This is one of the most beautiful hikes in the whole country so a friend and I decided that we'd hike up to Anchorage for 4 hours before getting a Catamaran to take us back down the coast. It was spectacular!








I'm not sure if you can see it but if you look REALLY closely you can see a seal basking in the sun bellow!





Honestly, the scenery here is so unbelievable that I feel like I've become immune. Perhaps when I get back to Canada I'll drive from Toronto to Kingston so as to gain a greater appreciation of what I'm seeing here! Cheers!

Wellington, Nelson, March 23-April 12th



So, tired and exhausted from my endeavors in River Valley I arrived in Wellington, (the capital of NZ) on the 23rd of March. I was spent, felt hungover, and to top it all off I had the feeling that I had spent an exorbitant amount of money in a short period of time. Combine all this with the fact that I was racing through the country so quickly I barely had time to take the pictures and I felt like a crash was imminent. So I thought to myself, "What would allow me to get centered for a few weeks, really spice things up and change the pace a little?" For some reason I thought that getting some part-time work was the answer, and since I didn't have a working visa the answer became all the more apparent. I would pick fruit for a living. I would get up at dusk, put in a hard day's work with the good old farm folk, chew some tobacco and then come home dog tired, cook a hearty meal and fall asleep at half-nine. This dream seemed to good to be true. It was. But as you shall see things are working out for the best!




Now the first thing you should understand is that I had no form of transportation. After crossing to the south island on the ferry and arriving in Picton and then Nelson I had not a clue as to where to start. So the first thing that I did was go to the employment office in the center of town and ask around. They were very helpful. And by very helpful, I mean the fat chick at the counter pulled out a copy of a newspaper that she had spilled coffee on that morning and said, "Here...the want ads are in the back." Brilliant.

Somehow through a combination of luck and a a plethora of phone calls I managed to find work at an orchard that was a 30 minute ride away in a town called Mapua. The owner of the orchard was a very pleasant fellow and he arranged it so that his brother would pick myself and a fellow traveller up each morning and take us to the orchard. The question now was a place of lodging.

You must understand that if I was to truly get in touch with myself, to "step out of the comfort zone" as it were, I needed to get in touch with the REAL New Zealand. The real New Zealand is not the backpacking hostels that dot the roads along the main strip of town but the cheap, low-budget, community accommodations where everyone who's there has something in common. They're only there because they need to work. Say hello to "Tasman Motor Camp."

This is the camp.






We were greeted at the door by the owner "Spud" , (I never got his real name,) who promptly put me in a room with two other Kiwi's. I couldn't have been luckier. Both the guys, Bede and Sam were full of life and liked nothing better than to get absolutely pissed with no apparent plan in mind. This place was hilarious and each person is a gem in and of themselves. It's not very exclusive or anything more of a combination between the Trailer Park Boys and the dirtiest staff room that Cleavland House had to offer. A high school education is a plus but by no means necessary! I'm having a blast!!!




Varoom indeed...




This is Bede.




This is Jason who's got a 10 month old daughter and a girlfriend in a nearby town and "Sharkey," an ex-con who likes nothing better than smoking a few joints and drinking 15 beers to finish off the perfect Wednesday. These guys are classic and I've had many amusing talks that lasted long into the night about a variety of topics that range from music to beer to women.




That's the camp owner "Spud" on the left. Next we have Brenden who is half native-American and half Thai. (The other's in the photo are Terry, Jason [who you already met] and Sam my other roommate. Brenden and I along with a few other travellers of the night decided to hitch a ride to an all night Drum and Base show, (think of it as a rave in the middle of the woods.) We got picked up by the owner of another orchard in his camper van and after swallowing a few beers and some party pills we were off. The highlight of the night had to be when I met a young man who introduced himself as "Buster." Wearing nothing but a mexican poncho he spent half an hour describing to me the general affects of all the acid he took a few hours before and how the cough syrup he drank had actually heightened his sense of awareness and helped balance him out. Interesting. After I managed to score a single bed all to myself in a house on wheels I woke up the next morning with a bit of a problem. The owner of the camper van was tired and decided to pass out for awhile. It was up to a few of us to find our own rides back. Luckily, some hippie freaks decided to give us a ride to a town called Richmond where we could hitch back to our trailer park pretty easily. The people in this camper van were a lot of fun. All decked out in the color's of the rainbow, both lips pierced, those weird fire tools that are used at outdoor gigs, with a little puppy dog in tow. I noticed that one of them had "The Doors" sticker on his hat and I asked him if he liked the band. He replied that he didn't know who they were. It was at this point that I noticed he was using his fingers to spread jam on a piece of bread and was looking a little groggy-eyed from the night before so I left him alone for the duration of the trip. After getting dropped off in Richmond, Brenden and I bummed around for awhile before we stuck out our thumbs and caught a ride back to Mapua around at around noon.

So what exactly do I do all day? Well I pick apples, and it's just as glorious as it sounds. You start at one end of the row in the field and you work to the other. You get 32$ a bin, I usually pick just over 3 bins a day and after the government takes its hard earned share of my profits I end up clearing 75$ a day. It's not bad when you consider that a week's stay at the camp is only $85, but hey, you get what you pay for!!!










I'm outta here on Thursday! I'm going to rent a place in Nelson, get a little whiskey and just relax until the Kiwi bus rolls up to babysit me all the way to Westport! Love you all, please feel free to e-mail me as I think I'm becoming slightly unhinged!! HA HA!!!