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.

Day 167 - Rolling on the river.

Queenstown is a bit of a conundrum.


Dah dah dah dah (No countdown SFX, thanks).

There are tons of things to do but not many of them fall in the “under $20 range”. Most of them are high adrenaline and thus high costing!

So before I left Canada that I would pick two unique things that I wanted to do and for the most part, couldn’t do back home.

The first of those would be done on this day – riversurfing! Which is, in a nutshell, white water rafting without the raft.

After a short ride out to what, if memory serves, is Lake Wanaka, it was time to get kitted up.

Nothing says excitement on a Saturday morning like rental wetsuits and soaking boots.
EXCITEMENT.

We walked down the hill and got our briefing by the guides. We were first asked to jump in the water!

We then practiced the basic moves – kicking upstream and downstream, duck diving, barrel rolling and getting back on your board once you had fell off.

We then started on our trek. One thing I noticed right off the start – due to the shorter fins, as compared to my dive fins, every single fin kick (save for the flutter) that I had learned in diving became absolutely useless. Goodbye sculling. See you later, frog kick.

At one point we stopped and watched someone jumped off the original bungy bridge. And when

I say original, I do mean original. Queenstown is the world’s birthplace of bungy jumping. We, as riversurfers, did our own jump.

Not bad!
One of the most challenging goes was actually trying to float downstream, then turn upstream, and hope to heck that you’d be grabbed by one of the guides (in this case, Neil the Scot). Here’s my first attempt:

So close! If I had only kicked a bit more… Sadly attempt number two of two was worse. I was making great time and pace… and then my leg cramped up – and just that bit made me miss the wave. Out damn cramp, out.
Near the end we hit “Chinese Dog Leg”. When given instructions for this rapid it became something to the context of “go left, go left, duck dive, go left, duck dive, go right, eat a hokey pokey”. Close enough. I managed to get through. So did my new friends Torsten and Kristiana from Cologne (hello, Gunter Jauch!).


All in all a great day out, but one that was very physically demanding. Having to arch your back like that insane lotus position for yoga became something that my body didn’t like.

I went back to Butterfli and took it easy… meeting up with Torsten and Kristiana after their canyon swing adventures to exchange addresses. Torsten said to me “Have you had dinner yet?” Actually at this point I had just finished getting some pasta to make at home, but I figured what the hell let’s go for dinner.

Aaaaaaaaaaand back it was to Fergburger! Why not. Actually it was quite different than the night before, as we this time took the meal and sat and chatted at the water front. Which was actually great. It was wonderful swapping stories. I’m enjoying meeting such great people – I wish that they would be around when I got home to Canada!

Following a stop at Lick’s (the ice cream place, not the Ontario based burger joint) we parted.

What a great day, once again.
Cheers
Vick.

Day 166

After starting with a relaxing morning, Chris, Bozena and I headed down to the bus station so that I could catch my lift. It was hard leaving… what a wonderful experience my first visit to Dunedin had been!

Notice I say first as it won’t be the last. Chris, you’ve been warned.

We did one last quick thing… a visit to the botanical garden to feed the ducks. I had never picked up a duck before; it didn’t quack and it didn’t do its washroom duties on my hand, so that was a start.

The bus ride was quite scenic, albeit quite twisty turny. I did fall asleep for awhile but was awakened by the bus driver giving a summary of the ride. We stopped in Roxburgh for a coffee break; I grabbed a famous Jimmy’s bacon and egg pie to hit the munchies.

Note to self. When the driver says this is a good time to use the washroom, you probably should take his advice. I turned around after we got back on the bus – turns out there’s no washroom. Seven P’s of life there.

Arriving in Queenstown it struck me what it resembled: Banff. It’s very much the same vibe although Qtown has a few more adventure sports (although I’ll probably be corrected at some point!). Took a shuttle to Butterfli lodge and quite enjoyed the running commentary.

I could see right away that this place was a good pick. I walked in, someone asked me who I was and I was checked in right away!

I got chatting to a few ladies in the main social room, and they said that there were going out to grab some dinner if I wanted to come… sure, of course!

We headed down to the famous Fergberger. Now you’ve got to understand I don’t usually eat burgers when I go out, mostly because I love A&W after dives and that’s about it. But Fergberger is somewhat of an exception. For about $7.50 CDN, you get a massive size burger. Frankly, there’s no need for fries (even though they serve them) because you’re pretty much meatified once done. And for the veggies out there… I’m sure they have some option but I can’t recall!
On the back of the key fob there was a 2for1 special at a local pub. I wasn’t 100% really up for a beer… but I was enjoying the company quite hardily so I went along happily! It was great just shooting the breeze with Liz and Hannah from Melbourne and Annabelle from Munster (Germany).

All in all… a great first day in Qtown… with more fun to come!

Cheers,

Vick.