Day 178-181

Following the excitement that was the culturally fun day, I decided to take it down a notch.
I spent the morning at the spa.

Now yes it says “Polynesian Spa” and perhaps there were mud baths and masseuses (masseusa?) but I really didn’t care.

That was pretty much me for the majority of the morning. I started in a thermal pool that was at 38C – that was the coldest one that was at the joint. I worked my way up to a 41C pool but I didn’t spend that much time in that one! Did have a nice chat with a couple from England who were over here after having recently retired.

Retirement – now I could get used to that.

Following the spa I walked back to the “Streat” – a block of restaurants pedestrianized and with good taste to boot. I stuck to something simple – fish and chips – mostly because my brain was mush after the spa.

Actually that became the theme for the day. I really didn’t want to do much anything else, so it was a sandwich in for dinner and the only thing of general note after that (besides sitting through my first episode of Millionaire Hot Seat in preparation for the upcoming taping) was that I locked myself out of my room. With the assistance of my new Dutch friends we tried everything until we just had to give up and ring the manager. I was extremely embarrassed but was happy I did it as the thought of staying outside for the night really just didn’t appeal to me.

On Day 179 it was time for destination number 6 of 8 in New Zealand – Coromandel Town. The first two bus rides up to Thames were uneventful – especially the second one where the driver was just downright impolite.

However the third leg – Thames to Coromandel – was just superb. It turned out that we were the school bus run. There were some students that rode to school an hour each way to Thames and we were their ride home. Actually it was GORGEOUS – the scenery that is – so really it didn’t matter and the kids were pretty well behaved. I was getting hungry as I hadn’t had lunch yet (don’t ask – although it was nearing 5 pm) and taking to a chef from British Columbia would do that to you!

The greatest thing about InterCity – especially the smaller areas is that they’ll drop you off at your lodgings, directly. Classy.

So it was around 5.30 pm when I arrived at my home for the evening, and a couple more, the Tui Lodge. I had heard from a lady from Boston in Rotorua that she had stayed there and it did not disappoint, at least on first view! And what a wonderful chat I had with Bridget and Charlotte from Holland, who graciously gave me their extra phone card as they were leaving the next day – and I happily repaid the favour by given them some maple syrup and Timmie’s coffee.

Day 180 and I started exploring. For a $20 deposit for a lock and key I could take one of the lodge’s bikes – which was great as it was a good kilometre out of town (not unreachable by walking, by any means, but still). I wanted to enjoy a great view and some grassy knolls for lunch, and I discovered the Pa Lookout. I mean, really – how do you argue with THIS?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vNuVsuNk8A8

I also took the time to shoot an application video for something. Now, I’m not actually telling what you it is but if it works out… well, it would be pretty amazing.

Having sorted all of that out, and running down the lookout to the tune of some old Double Dare cues, I hiked back to the centre of town and discovered some internet availability and taught a Kiwi barmaid how curling works (seriously).

Again I retired to my accommodations and completing my afternoon nap it was time for dinner. I decided to go to a takeaway and I was not disappointed as I had some wonderful fish and chips.
It was at dinner that I met Linnaea and Ben, both travelling from the US. We had a wonderful discussion about everything and anything. That’s what I like about the backpackers – it’s nice and easy to meet people and just chill. It makes for a wonderful evening.

One of the suggestions that I had been given for Day 181 was to check out the Driving Creek Railway. After having navigating the 5K bike ride (with the rental bike acting a bit dodgy!) I got there in plenty of time to catch my ride.

It was quite enjoyable – we were all on a small train which made its way up the hill slowly but surely, complete with tunnels and switchbacks galore. It was part of a clay pottery workshop as well. We reached the top and climbed Eyefull Tower – HA!

All in all a good time. I ended up chatting quite awhile with a gaggle of Kiwis who were home for a wedding from the UK. Also bumped into them while having lunch at a delicious vegetarian café where I had Dahl – lovely curry with basmati rice and yogurt. Not super fancy but enjoyable nonetheless!

On the way back from the railroad I enjoyed a wonderful ice cream cone of Berry Berry Mud from the local creamery and then watched as Canada just barely lost to the Swedes in the Women’s curling final.

Following a nice chat again over dinner and a good read of a book it was off to bed… for tomorrow was another day and another destination!

Cheers,
Vick

Day 177

I forgot to mention on my zorbing day that I went for a wonderfully long walk along the water. Rotorua, like many other New Zealand communities and like many a Canadian community, has seen and understands the concept of recreation and as such is it just a nice time to gather your thoughts. And, in the case of Rotorua, one to take in just a wee sample of the sulphuric water that surrounds the community in the similarly named lake.

In any case after a restful morning I decided to head to the Rotorua Museum of Art and History. This is a former bath house in the early 1900’s and as such it was quite fascinating to see some of the relics that were left over.

You even could go into the basement to explore the heating system, which I did, taking them up on their offer of hard hats to use in case of your being a freakishly tall human. As I am.

The other highlight was the tele-theatre, which frankly had a great 20 minute film detailing the history of the baths and other culturally relevant items in the area.

But with all that being said, and added to the fact that I went on the 80 minute “introductory tour”, I was kind of “museumed out”.

I’ve thought about this… after having hit the Otago Museum, the Dunedin Art Gallery, Te Papa in Wellington, the W(h)anganui Regional Museum and its neighbouring Searjeant Gallery, I think I’m going to try and take a break from the historical side just for a bit. Not that I don’t enjoy it… I’m just in the mode where I’m getting a wee bit too much of a good thing.

I decided as such to take the afternoon off and relax at the Flashpackers, taking in a bit of Olympic Spirit from back home. The coverage over here (on free channel “Prime”) is a bit hopscotchy – for example you don’t necessarily get to see things covered from end to end, unless it’s the figure skating for some odd reason – but isn’t that bad. I do miss the wall to wall coverage, although I’m slightly saddened that CBC doesn’t have the rights this year.
I was mystified, however, to hear that one Prime commentator remarked that Canada’s male curling skip, Kevin Martin of Alberta, was “a”, if not “the”, sex symbol of the games.
Am I missing something?

In any case it was time to go and enjoy the next festivities. I had booked a traditional Maori cultural dinner for the evening, complete with its entertainment. The shuttle van picked me up at around 6.20 pm, drove me to the headquarters (where they were more than happy to take my money) and then everyone loaded into one of four buses, which were to serve as our “wakas” for the evening (waka = craft/canoe in Maori).

On the bus our driver, Ahora, was quite entertaining. One of the first things was an election of chief. Now although I was one of three finalists (spurred on by a Commonwealth movement of Aussies) I didn’t get it, which frankly I was okay with. Sometimes the Drama teacher wants a night off, you know!

We arrived and it first started with a traditional welcome ceremony. One of the key things was that Maori welcoming involves greeting by not only their painted faces (which they use to distinguish their tribes, if memory serves) but also the sticking out of tongues and making of traditional noises (which if you didn’t know better you might have gone to a KISS concert – but I did, don’t worry). We were all informed not to laugh at this time, as I imagined others may of at times.

Following the welcome we were lead into the village where we were allowed to explore the huts, detailing different parts of their lives. It was quite interesting – we go to see how they apply the face paints, and also test our skills by training in traditional Maori ways. One of the things that you could try was something akin to running left-right-left-right through tires (like in American football training, for example). If you did that, you were allowed to take a picture (only after giving up your wife as a gift!). Although I did quite horribly (and admitted as such), I was granted the gesture.

It was then time for the bulk of the entertainment for the night. We got to go into a hall and enjoy a number of songs. All played traditionally (ok, maybe not the stage lights!) and was quite fascinating. They have mad skills!
Finally it was time for a traditional dinner. Let’s see, there was chicken, lamb (traditional in NZ – baa baa bye sheep), salad, potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, bread, cranberries, gravy, stuffing… what a feast! And that was just the main course – for dessert there was pavlova and steamed pudding with custard (I went for the latter). They joked that backpackers were welcome to go up for seconds and thirds, if not sevenths and eighths! I’m sure that they’ve had a few people bring up plastic containers to bring it home, too.

I had a wonderful chat with one of a pair of twin brothers that were visiting from London. About two months before they had just decided to up and go – quitting their jobs! Crazy, but it happens. They were having the time of their life, although I imagine that after doing no less than six different adventurous sports in Queenstown their wallet was a wee bit thinner.

After getting a bit of a lesson in how to make a “hangi”, which is a traditional Maori dinner (and discovering that the Kiwis and Aussies have a gentle relationship) we headed back on the bus. Each country was asked to sing during Maorioke (HA!). I decided to represent Canada and after stating that I was not once, but twice rejected from Canadian Idol I then launched into the classic If I Had $1000000 by the Barenaked Ladies. Didn’t get the whole thing right, but I’m pretty sure I stayed more in tune than the Irishman sitting next to me!

Cheers,
Vick.

Day 176 - Zorbing

It was time. Time to do another wet and wild Kiwi adventure.

I started the morning off with a good breakfast. Not that I don’t mind going out for food but I’ve discovered that if you buy yourself some food, keep it in the community fridge in the kitchen, you can really cut down on meal prices. And frankly, while it’s nice to experience the food culture, I’m a big fan of the culture culture. It was also nice chatting with a trio of ladies who were from the states and doing a whirlwind tour – I think it was maybe 11 days, so it was very much go go go for them!

I hopped onto the bus at 9.30 am to get out to the site. Mistakenly I first went the way of the Agrodome complex

and its own bizarre attractions (what the heck is a ‘schweeb’ anyway?) I finally headed across the road and found it!

It was time to go zorbing! Now for the uninitiated, a zorb is this: a massive soft plastic ball with another smaller plastic ball inside it, where you, the willing adventure tourist, get to have all the fun. I plunked down about 95$NZD for three rides which I didn’t think that was all that bad. I’d been waiting years to do this… ever since it popped up years ago on Amazing Race.

You then go and get changed. If you don’t have a bathing suit, you’ll have to shell out for a spandex/lycra combo which I guess is okay, although it’s nothing compared to Hole in the Wall (which frankly isn’t that bad).

First off you then get shuttled up the hill in a mountain. To be honest I’m not sure why they don’t have stairs, guess it must depend on how busy they get. I was in the car with a mom and son from Wellington who were quite nice to chat with. I let them go first, then it was my turn!

I got to do the wet ride first. You first have to dive/slide into the ball which already has about two litres of water inside. They then zip the hole closed, and then you have to stand up, and in American Gladiators style you have to walk it a tiny little bit to get it going. Let’s have a picture essay, shall we?

Here I am at the start.

Now, making progress.

At the first turn…

And now making further good time down the hill.

All the time I was laughing my head off. I was giggling like a school girl, it was so fun! They take a picture of you inside of the zorb…

… and then your wonderful “exit”. Priceless.
Followed by a good jump to show your enthusiasm.
I was laughing so hard and anxious to do it again. This time I was “assigned” to the dry ride. It’s very different – this time you’re strapped into the zorb by way of a harness.

I’d lie to you and say that I liked this one better but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. While I’m pleased I got to enjoy it, I felt that I didn’t have tons of padding and it was like being thrown down in a WWE match. Oh and did I mention I went backwards?

So it was with great pleasure that I went for ride number three back on the wet course. I could have done the straightaway but I enjoyed the zig-zag too much the first time that I wanted to go back to that one.

I am one who really enjoys a good laugh and I think it’s a great way to health but I don’t think I had laughed this in a short period time in probably forever. The family from Wellington and I then went and picked up our pictures (some of which you’ve seen here) and then parted ways. On the way out I also picked up a tshirt (half price!) and ran into a family from Calgary and one solo backpacker from Waterloo.

To be honest, not that zorbing was that exhausting, but I have come to a conclusion that if I don’t do everything every day it’s not the end of the world. And as such, I headed back early afternoon to the flashpackers to have a well deserved nap and catch up with some blog entries.

I was tempted to go along with the Nova Scotia crew to an event in the evening but I was still quite wiped. I’m trying to pace myself a little better than I did in Europe (22 cities in 47 days I think was the count, or thereabouts) so I took in a nice evening with Susie Dent’s book What makes the crocodile cry? and a wee bit of Olympic coverage where I can get it.

Cheers,
Vick.

Day 174 and 175 - Wanganui, then to Rotorua

It was a gorgeous Saturday morning at 9 am when I arrived at the Farmer’s Market in downtown Wanaganui. So many things to see, so many things to buy. I resisted temptation and avoided most of the food but couldn’t resist a lovely muffin from one of the stands featuring fresh products.

It was off to the information centre again to get a hold of some phone cards… you have to get one phone card to be able to access local numbers, so that you can then get at your long distance card! Very bizarre.

Next stop was the post office. I found some things of interest for a friend of mine. Now since this person might be reading this blog, I won’t be revealing it but rest assured I think they’ll enjoy it.
Right across from the post office there was a charity fundraiser for a local U21 touch rugby team. They were going to the championships in a fortnight so I happily bought a sausage to help support.

I decided to wander over to the art gallery. I was never a big fan of art galleries when I was younger, but have now started to enjoy them. This was very abstract – especially the figures made out of glass were particularly enjoyable, having visited the glass blowing factory earlier in the day. It’s amazing what artists can do!

I then started to wander… and ended up climbing the stairs below the tower. Trish had taken me there the day before and the view was just gorgeous.

I kept wandering and before I knew it I ended up at Trish and Adrian’s place! Before dinner was ready I was able to have some serious bonding time with Evie… man that girl can MOVE! She’s going to be on the Olympic Skeleton team or something. She’s a fun little baby… and very happy to tolerate my singing!

Soon after Dawn and Bill arrived, and then Pat (who works at the museum with Trish). We had a grand old time at dinner, laughing at almost everything.

And after a couple of glasses of wine, everything got a bit more funnier! I was challenged to eat both vegemite and marmite, with interesting results:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cy400SL_CFg

I needed to wash it down with the toblerone!

Day 175 and it was again time to hit the bus. A little more treacherous this time – Wanganui to Bulls was fine, but Bulls to Taupo – well it was scenic and nuts at the same time.

We actually passed through the “desert road” which is one of the more interesting passes I’ve been through. Still though, it was enjoyable with the tour highlights that were given by the bus driver (really, why doesn’t this happen back home!) and I threw on a Vinyl Café podcast which was entertaining to say the least as well.

Arriving in Rotorua around 5 pm after the journey from Taupo, I found my backpackers quickly. Now, this was the kind of backpackers for me. Frankly, if it wasn’t for the kitchen I would have thought it to be a normal hotel. It’s called the Flashpackers and with good reason – it is flashy. If only all the backpackers could be like this!

Following a run to the Pak ‘n Save (the cost of not having to buy additional letters is passed on to you!) I heard a familiar sound. Indeed, it was five Nova Scotians! Turns out that they were all from Antigonish and the area.

I was going to have dinner but I thought nah… I want to watch a bit of telly… hey, Amazing Race is on! Granted it was season fourteen – two seasons behind, but still, it was enjoyable, as they featured paragliding.

And tomorrow, it would be time to complete an Amazing Race roadblock from years ago…

Cheers,
Vick.

Day 172 and 173

And it was back on the bus again. Simple, effective run this time – Wellington to Wanganui with a stop in Palmerston North (which has a dump named after John Cleese there) for a lunch break.

Apart from the wonderful reception that I received at the B&B – Pam, the owner picked me up from the bus stop! – my first time in Wanganui was very low key. So let’s fast forward to the next day, shall we?

Waking up on 173 it was nice to have a great breakfast to start. Pam does cook a mean breakfast… and after scrambled eggs, toast, cereal and juice, I was ready to go. I started the day by walking into town – a brisk 20 minute walk, but very peaceful.

After doing some emailing at the information centre, I hopped on Australiasia’s only remaining paddle steamer – the Waimarie (wy-mahr-ee-aa). It was a wonderful little journey up river and back, filled with commentary and the odd temptation to pull a Titanic and sing My Heart Will Go
On from the front deck.




Two things missing: Kate and Celine Dion. Apart from that a great time was had!



I grabbed a nice little sandwich and headed up to the Whanganui Regional Museum for some more exploring. A friend of mine from the Strasbourg exchange, Jen, had given me the contact for a friend of hers, Trish. I met up with Trish and it was like I had known her all my life. Very friendly and was kind enough to invite me to dinner that evening!
The museum itself was quite gorgeous. I caught myself sitting in the recreation of the school room and found myself recalling things from Upper Canada Village!

I met Trish back at the museum at 5 and she took me over to her house where I met her husband, Adrian, and her gorgeous eight-month-old daughter, Evie. We had a great barbecue on their lovely deck and it was a great way to finish the day… I got back to the B&B and was quite done!

Cheers,
Vick

Day 171

Originally Wellington was going to be one and done, staying there, that was. But upon further reflection I decided to give Wellytown, capital of New Zealand, a good shake.

Turns out that was an excellent idea.

After a cereal and toast bfast at the backpackers (free!) and a half hour checking email and Olympic scores (free!) I headed out to Te Papa.

Now it’s really hard to describe the brilliance of Te Papa. It is quite outstanding, and possibly the best museum/gallery/living history site I’ve ever seen (and I worked at an award winning one for four summers, don’t you know). Five floors (you can’t count reception on the bottom!) of absolutely brilliant exhibits.

First stop was the Anne Frank travelling exhibit.

I have actually never read her diary (I know, shame) but the history portrayed behind it was phenomenal. Next stop was a visual history of media and merchandise in the past years of New Zealand, followed by a stroll through a wharenui.

It was absolutely gorgeous. I mean I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of time it took to construct this magnificent complex. When I was inside it was quite dark, and apparently I surprised a young school child. I apologized and she remarked that I wasn’t from the area. I told her that she was correct, that I was from Canada. She was fascinated to hear this and was peppering me with questions! Her teacher later told me that she shouldn’t bug the nice man; I said it was nonsense and I didn’t mind at all.

I know nobody believes me, but I actually do miss teaching (because this day would have been our normal Sears Festival night as it has been for the last five years)..
I decided to take my lunch outside to enjoy by the wharf. On route I found this:

Which lead me to believe that “The Crystal Maze” is in a quite decrepit state of affairs.
Back into the museum in the afternoon. I toured through the earth and fire exhibits, and then hit up “Our Scene”. While I passed on the motion simulators, I did experiment with “The Wall”.

This is quite the technological marvel - you can actually take a wand, which resembles a Wii controller, and then move pictures all over the wall, and even put up your own picture!
The final exhibit that I got to was the giant squid. It was called the colossal squid – and with good reason.

I departed Te Papa after having filled out their comment card to the limit and also having personally thanked the reception. I was very impressed with Te Papa and encourage anyone reading if they’re in Wellington at some point to go and check it out.

Now after an afternoon nap – something that I’m learning to perfect on this tour, because frankly, I can – I headed off to the BATS theatre to try and score some theatre tickets. I got lucky as there was at least one no show so I got to see my first ever fringe production.
It was quite funny – meant to be a parody of “travelling educational shows”. I laughed the whole time and hope to be able to adapt the show for use at work. We’ll see!

Cheers,
Vick

Day 170

It was time to leave Queenstown. What a beautiful little town. Sure, it was somewhat overrun with backpackers and tourists from every corner of the earth (or apparently Western Europe, at least) I really enjoyed it.

Part of that was the crew at Butterfli Lodge. I’m a big believe that if you do your research into where you’re staying, you’ll enjoy it even more. Such was the case. I said my goodbyes and got picked up by the airport shuttle at around 11.30 am. Turns out we had some time to kill, so the drivers (which I take to be good friends) took me to one of the highest points in Queenstown that you can reach by car and not by some winged creature.

The Queenstown airport, while not huge, is really quite pretty. So was, in fact, the subsequent flight to Christchurch. I wished I had booked a window seat – it was like being on my own private jet – we had the pilot narrating the sights to see.

From Christchurch, after enjoying my 15 minutes of free internet in the terminal (Greater Toronto Airports Authority, are you listening?) it was off to Wellington and then shuttled into the city to get to my backpackers.

Now, let’s get one thing straight. “Backpackers” is a fancy way of saying “hostel”. It’s not the highest class accommodation (frankly, far from it) but I was able to book a single room for a small reasonable premium. I don’t want anyone to get the idea that I’m trying to play super-hermit; however, I do like my space. Don’t worry, I’ll be sharing rooms in Australia when the costs go up just that bit more…

Wellington has a nice downtown pedestrianized shopping arcade where I found a man from France selling crepes. I swear I am not making this up. After buying one I also noticed the poster – of all things there was a French film festival going on! It was going to be a toss-up between that and a Fringe Festival show.

To paraphrase TV Burp’s Harry Hill: “Well, I like fringe theatre, but I also like French films. But which one is better? There’s only one way to find out - FIGHT!”

Cheers,
Vick.

Day 169

I awoke with tons of excitement. I had breakfast. Checked my email. Walked downtown.

Grabbed some souvenirs. Got back to the lodge at about 10.30.

And then alarm bells started to go off.

It turns out when Hannah had called to confirm her adventure, they cancelled on her. I was supposed to go on the same adventure with the same company.

So I got Romy, the manager of the lodge to call on my behalf. I was told that no problem, things were good to go. So I was ready at 11.50 to go for a 12 noon pickup (which is what I had been told the day before).

12.05: Nothing

12.10: Nothing, starting to grit my teeth.

12.20: This isn’t good business practice.

12.30: I have conceded defeat. Romy calls back, and apparently there was a miscommunication as I was supposed to be have told 1 pm instead.

Good things come to those who wait, I suppose?

Just before 1 pm the shuttle arrives. I am indeed going. We pick up the other passenger, and one of the guides, Owen (from Brighton) en route.

It was finally happening. We get to the site. I get paired up with Owen as we were chatting together in the van. I get a briefing.

Do what he says.

It’s important to do what he says.

Pay attention Ryan, this is important.

I struggle to do this. Everything at this moment is so perfect.

Helmet is on, tightened.

All strapped in.

“RUN!” yells Owen. I do this, dragging him backwards as it was explained to me. “KEEP RUNNING!”

And then I realize something. No matter how much more I pump my legs, it doesn’t matter.

I. Am. Flying.

It has been eight years but I have gone from this:

at the top of the Vosges mountains in Alsace to this:

with a feeling that I can’t describe.

I am euphoric. And we are going FAST. We catch “thermals” and actually get much more air than expected. I am taught that when Owen says lean left it means to cross your legs and worry about nothing. It’s like holding it in when you have to go to the washroom really bad.

None of this affects me though.

We take a small dive down to whoosh by Owen’s friends who are also getting ready to launch. We avoid the “monkeys” from another group who don’t seem to know what is going on.
Owen takes out the camera to take a series of photos. I am smiling politely is not a good way to describe it. I am smiling ear to ear and continue this pose with no problems at all. Owen then retrieves the camera, switching it to video mode. I start to babble… I can feel everything around me but it continues to be such an unbelievable event that is occurring. I know I say some things which are relevant but it is like I have taken leave of my body.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oa47-EGl_xI

We are halfway, possibly two thirds of the way down when I ask Owen about the turns. I was told about these turns, you see, whereby you go into such a corkscrew spin.

Frankly I’m not sure if my body can handle it as I usually can’t handle the Tilt-A-Whirl at the carnival but I have not come this far not to try everything.

Owen explains that once we start and he calls left and right that I have to do this quickly.

Cuddled in my harness-cum-baby stroller, I am ready to respond. LEFT! RIGHT! LEFT! RIGHT! STAY RIGHT!

We then start spiraling down. I don’t mind admitting that I screamed heavily at this point. It is so magical what happens.

I imagine this lasts for thirty, maybe forty seconds, although it felt like it went by in a split second.

It is now time to nail the landing. I am told to put my hands straight in front of me so as to let go of the handles. This is a bit nerve-wracking but I can manage it. I am then told to get ready to run if need be. Apparently I look like Fred Flintstone when I come down and hit the ground, pedaling an invisible car.

We have finished the ride but the natural high. I am speechless. Nothing can put into words to what I have just experienced. I manage to get a picture while still in the harness




and once Owen has finished packing up I get a picture with him as well.

Someone from another company asked me if enjoyed myself.

They could hear me screaming and saw my landing. I am happy that it is then self-explanatory as my thoughts, words and legs are mostly reduced to mush.

It is a natural high that I shall never forget.

EPILOGUE

Most of the rest of the day doesn’t really matter, doesn’t count. I go to the internet café to upload the video to prove to the rest of the world what I experienced. I make pasta for the second night in a row. I watch a recap of Alexandre Bilodeau winning his gold medal on what could be considered the poor taste sport show to end all poor taste poor shows on Kiwi television.

But it really doesn’t matter. I flew.

And I want more.

Cheers,
Vick.

PS - Popped up again in episode five of Kids in the Hall: Death Comes To Town. Expect more once the olympics are done. Thanks to Lisa B. for the screencaps (as I found them accidentally on line and she was nice enough to share!)

Day 168

Well it was early on Sunday morning when I got up for breakfast.

Actually, that’s a lie. In fact I had a bit of a lie in. The bed was so comfy… no need to change things! I did however make a nice omelet (which frankly I missed having ketchup with). James, a gentleman from the US was having problems with the computer he was using so I happily lent him mine. He was very thankful but I was more than happy to do it.

I packed a PB and J lunch and took off to find a nice place to eat. Along the way I rented a Frisbee… yes… it was time for my immersion into the world of disc golf! Queenstown has an excellent course in the middle of their big park – for $7NZD I was able to rent a disc and also pick up a scorecard. Not a bad price at all.

Now, let’s get one thing straight. It is true that I play ultimate back home and I think I’m okay at it. Here’s the difference though: in ulty, the players can happily move around and toward you. The holes and other targets in disc golf, not so much.

So it was with not much surprise that I ended up after nine holes with some kind of miserable score like 12 over par. I’d dig up my scorecard but I’m not really into schaudenfreude right now.

But then something happened. A gentleman who appeared to be one of the local pros was very helpful in showing me some disc handling technique. And then everything went right on the par 3 11th hole, with this tree as the target.

To quote the guy from RDS’ old Défi Mini-Putt tv show: BIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDDIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!
Yuppers. I was dumb struck.

And then later on I was joined by Rolf and his dog (no, they weren’t from The Muppet Show – get off it!). It was nice to have someone to play the end of the round with.
Following the golfing experience and the pic-a-nic lunch (thank you, Boo-Boo) I headed up the gondola to get a great view of the city. As an additional bonus, they also have a mountain luge for a small cost.

Long way home, then!

I’d have one with me in the luge but frankly I wasn’t shelling out 12$ for the honour.
And then I went BUNGY JUMPING!

Not really, actually.

I stuck to the viewing area. Trust me, though, I did consider it. And then I asked myself, why would I jump (and in this case, run and jump) off a perfectly good bridge. Maybe one day.
I walked back to the lodge, made some pasta - the kitchen was in great shape so I decided to profit from it. The only problem travelling so much is that as I’m taking public transport (ooh, how Channel Four Lost! of me) it makes it hard to buy “long term groceries”. Except for PB and J, and frankly you can’t go wrong.

I was taking it easy just updating the blog when some bewildered tourists walked in. They looked like they couldn’t speak English. I heard them pipe up with some French, and it was go time. Turns out they were from Nancy, which is about an hour from Strasbourg by train. This put them at ease.

Turns out their car had stalled in front of the lodge and unfortunately it was booked up for the night. However Sofia called a friend at another establishment and got them a room. At this point I was playing translator! It’s like riding a bike; as long as you do it once in awhile things really come back. And I am a French teacher after all…

I offered to help them reach the other side of Queenstown to make sure that they got there, which they took me up on. We navigated the streets quite well… but then the car just didn’t want to make it up the steep enough hill. I wondered internally what we would be doing at that point… and it turned out some friendly kiwis pointed us in a different direction where the grade wasn’t as bad. We made it to the lodge, and after some more dubbing with the manager of this lodge, they were settled.

They insisted on driving me back – and I would have none of it. First of all it wasn’t necessary, and secondly I figured that they should probably leave the car where it was. They mentioned that they were going to try and get a replacement car the next day (although no time credit would be given for this unfortunate incident – Phil K.).

Just before parting ways they gave me their email and insisted that the next time I was in France that I come and stay with them. I look forward to taking them up on their offer.
I walked down to the waterfront to head to Patagonia’s to enjoy a homemade gelato which I figured was well deserved. Got back to the lodge, told the story a couple of times and the headed off the bed.

In the next post: what promised to be a very, very exciting day.

Cheers,
Vick.