Hip Hip Hooray for HIPPIES!! One last adventure in New Zealand

COROMANDEL PENINSULA, NZ

Rainbow in Coromandel

 

Trying to find the freedom farm- dark and wet!



Freedom farm living room

Freedom Farm!

 

The tooth brush bin at the Freedom Farm



Hot Water Beach



Hot water beach- dig dig!


 

Cathedral Cove



Tramps!  Armand (France), Forget her name (Israel), Kerri, Eric (Germany), Alex (Sweden), Erik (Sweden).  Bottom Row: Benjamin (France) and Jay (England)

          My plans for the following day fell apart.  I had met a guy named Jay on gumtree.com that wanted to visit the Coromandel but didn’t tell me soon enough that he didn’t have a driver’s license.  I woke up, ate quickly, packed up my belongings, and ran to catch a bus into the city in order to rent a car.  Half way there the Jucy guy said the only cars to rent were by the airport.  I had to get on a different bus to get to the airport and sat next to a very old man that was in the mood to share.  He kept talking and I’d say I half enjoyed the conversation because he was a little crazy.  He eventually told me that I would love the Coromandel Peninsula and he had actually stayed with this couple named Steve and Carli.  They owned some kind of organic farm and always let visitors stay with them for free in their large house in the country.  He gave me their phone number and street name and I didn’t really think it would be useful.  I was dubious of its importance.

                I held my modest ‘Jay- Coromandel’ sign outside the international arrivals and, thanks to Jay’s plane being 20 minutes late, we found each other!  The odds of our plan actually working out were so small yet we made it work.  We rented a car from Jucy and really hit it off!  What a nice guy!  Jay was 25, from England, and had taken a 1 year sabbatical from Kraft food (and his girlfriend) in order to travel the world.  He was such a savy traveler and we exchanged tips on NZ and Australia (where had just arrived from and where I was headed next).  We had a fairly easy drive out to Coromandel Peninsula and conversation poured out of our mouths- easiest traveler to get along with so far.  The drive into the Coromandel was so cool- very windy with beautiful coastal scenery.   Soon enough all of the scenery was lost with lots of clouds and torrential rain.  This was really becoming all too familiar.

Still not knowing where we would stay that night, we received one text from a couch surfers that told us he couldn’t host and there was horrible weather expected in the region.  We stopped into a pub in the town of Waitangi to ask if they had ever heard of this freedom farm.  With two degrees of separation in this country, of course they had.  They called Steve and Carli and drew out directions for us.  We could tell that this was going to be difficult since they kept repeating the landmarks along the way.  Fifteen km out of town, we found Mill Creek Road but had no chance of finding the house.  We were in the middle of freaking nowhere!  We ended up following a dirt road up a steep hill until 8 cows blocked the road.  We literally scared the shit out of them because they all had poop dropping from their behinds as they ran from our headlights in the rain.  The dirt road was so concave that we could hear our exhaust scraping and we thought that we must have gone wrong.  Forty minutes later we found what had to be the house.  Again we climbed a dirt driveway to what looked like an abandoned shed/house.  This is where we had to park the car.  From there we needed head lamps to climb the steep muddy path that we were told would lead to a house.  There was no light ahead and we questioned ourselves more than once.  What an adventure!

We made it up two hills before we saw a house.  As we opened the sliding door, we knew we were in a very special place.  Everyone was so welcoming…but something was off.  I felt like I was in a halfway house…or an asylum.  Were they full of peace and love?  Or were they a cult?  They had just finished dinner and there was a large pot of something good that was immediately offered to us.  There were about 14 people between the kitchen and large living space and they were about to start a documentary about conspiracy in America.  It was all about how the government was manipulating our minds through money and greed.  The narrator was taking the vocabulary we use on a daily basis and showing how it is used to destroy us. Wow.

The place was pretty dirty.  Food, crumbs, flies, bugs, dirt, and grime were kind of everywhere.  The house was really big and there was a huge, gorgeous, wooden table for dining.  There were dirty couches and chairs all over and it was really a free for all.  No one minded and therefore neither did  I.  I was so grateful for a place to stay and for what would definitely be a rewarding couple days.  Sarah was the first to introduce herself.  She definitely had a little bit of crazy in her eye.  She lingered a little too long and was very curt in conversation.  She asked for some of our bread which we were happy to share…but we saw her pilfer more slices later.  I felt like I had illegally smuggled an inmate food she wasn’t allowed to eat.  David from France brought us to a room at the end of the hall that was undergoing renovation.  He took two mattresses from a large room full of sleeping bodies and shared pillows and blankets with us- our humble abode for the evening.

                There a strong sense of family in the house.  They had about 20 people living there  and they all pitched in with the cooking, cleaning and caring for one another.  I tried to learn more about each person but it wasn’t easy.  I’d ask how long they had been there and they would answer, “I don’t know.”  When I asked how long they would stay, they would reply the same.  They had lived between areas for a number of years.  They would live at the freedom farm until they felt it was time to be somewhere else.  The Lord would show them where they were supposed to be.     

                And then there was Tara from Ohio via California.  She really believed in The Message.  She was so nice, full of smiles and had been shown the light.  She truly believed she was on a mission from God.  He had led her here and she believed that the brothers and sisters of the world would come hold hands and save the world.  They would share the light from the Lord and once they had reached true enlightenment, he would return to Earth and all would be new again.  She also looked like she was looking to recruit more believers.  The entire group believed in what I call ‘coincidences’. Tara had awoken that morning with a yearning for eggs.  However, in this Vegan household, there were no eggs, meat, or dairy allowed.  They didn’t even own a refrigerator, which amazed me.  But there I was cracking eggs when she appeared in the kitchen.  She knew that she had channeled  some energy from me- this was no coincidence!  It was ok that I had eggs since I didn’t know the rules.  They thought my meeting Jay was a sign as well as the old man on the bus who told me about the farm.

                After Carli spread the word around the breakfast table, we headed to hot water beach with a German visitor, Eric, who was just passing through and an Israeli girl who had been living there a few months.  Eric and I became good friends once he told me he was on a 2 week holiday from his job as a derivatives trader at no other than UBS in Germany.  He was incredibly smart and was well traveled. 

                Hot water beach was amazing!  At low tide, you can dig just below the sand surface and find scaulding hot water springing up!  Using shovels, you can dig a hole for yourself and enjoy your own personal Jacuzzi.  The sun had finally graced me with its presence so we had a great time in the hot water while getting wrecked by the fierce, cold waves from an incoming storm.    What an amazing place!  At the car, Jay and Israeli had met two French guys and we decided to all cook pasta together in the back of their van before heading to Cathedral Cove. 

                At the cove, we made more friends!  Two Swedish guys had met the French guys a week earlier in Wellington and had run into them once again.  Now a group of 8, we all made our way down to the cove together.  It was really beautiful and the waves were pretty rough when they crashed onto the beach and surrounding rock.  We made a human pyramid and took pictures together.  And to think that I was afraid to go on this vacation alone!  I hadn’t been alone for more than a few hours the entire trip.  The Israeli girl invited the 4 guys back to the farm for the night.

                We made it back for dinner and Carli’s daughter was very busy cooking.  There was a lot of chanting before the meal and they read from the book of values.  It was really uncomfortable when I passed the book and didn’t participate.  I love the part about love and peace but why the chanting?  Is there any way to feel that happy and content without God showing up?

After dinner, we were all engaged in conversation.  I was listening to Carli talk about her revelation 10 years ago and then how her husband and kids followed.  One of their daughters was an early childhood professor at a uni in Auckland.  There was no way she was hearing this message but they never clearly said so.  They had bashed higher education saying it was the worst thing a person can possibly have since it was pure brainwashing.  They also said that Osama Bin Laden was a fictitious character created by the CIA.  I really had never cared to listen to these conspiracy theories in depth but today I was in their home and would hear them out.  It wasn’t until hours later that I would learn that the USA had found and killed Bin Laden.  What irony.

                There was another conversation going on between Eric and Tara.  Tara and David had recently given birth to a baby boy through a midwife and had refused to register their baby with the NZ government and therefore didn’t have a birth certificate.  They issued him a world passport so that he belonged to no nation and would never have to fight in any country’s war.  They didn’t believe in governments or armies and didn’t want their child to be associated with either.  Did this also mean he would never pay taxes?  Did this mean he could actually stay in NZ for more than a tourist visa would allow?

                While everyone is engaged in both of these conversations, Sarah is walking through the middle of the room with a wooden branch she had taken from outside.  It was about 4.5 feet long and she was exercising with it like a baton.  She also slept with the stick in her bed.  There was also a very old man named Kenny who lived in the house and everyone looked after.  Kenny had lost his mind but seemed pretty fit in body and soul.  He mostly stared out into space or started conversation with just himself.  It was really sad to see someone who was stuck in a body but had no way of using it.  I was warned to be careful of where I plug in my electronics because Kenny had a tendency to pee on things. 

                Eric was fighting back with everything Tara and Carli were trying to preach, which I commend him for.  I didn’t feel like it was a neutral playing field.  These people had opened up their home to us and had fed us.  I was not about to knock their beliefs on their turf.  I just wanted to ask where their money had come from for this house and the 700 acres of land they lived on.  There was a hot tub run by a wood stove- who had paid for that?  The man.  The man got them where they are today and they played the game in order to acquire that money.   And were they not paying taxes on this land?  They were ‘murderers’ since they paid the taxes that paid for armies to pull triggers on their brothers and sisters.  Carli had been a school teacher at one point but I’m not sure what Steve had done for a living before starting the freedom farm.  No one here worked.  It was very strange to wake up and no one was rushing out the door to go to a job.  It’s hard to imagine what someone does when they don’t work?  Life is just consumed by jobs….but not for this group.

                It was all such simple living.  No one complained, no one judged and no one was unhappy.  They all enjoyed being a part of this family and that was nice to see.  The next morning we said goodbye to our peaceful friends and headed for Auckland.  I dropped Jay off to hitchhike from Thames and raced to get to the airport on time. Jay was a GREAT travel buddy.  What an adventure we had!  It was zany but beautiful in its own right and we were so thankful to have met these people.  The last two days were so eye opening.  What a great way to visit the Coromandel and an incredible 4 weeks in New Zealand.  Next stop:  AUSTRALIA. 

Bay of Islands and Kerikeri

PAIHI and KERIKERI, NZ
              On my flight from Queenstown to Auckland the next morning, a nice Kiwi (traveling with his son) offered me the window seat.  Similar to my trip to Queenstown, I noticed the flight attendants were catering to my seatmate and I had to inquire.  We began talking and I discovered he was ALSO a big deal!  He was a pilot for Air NZ for the past 25 years and he had trained the pilot that was flying our plane.  He was a really nice man and he thought he may be piloting my flight to Melbourne on Wednesday and wanted to get me an upgrade…but I later found out I was flying on Emirate and not Air NZ.  Kiwis are so darn thoughtful!  During landing, his son threw up right next to me.  I think God was really testing my recent oath of showing kindness toward children.  I think I passed the test.  Throw up really is the worst smell out there.

                Brianne picked me up from the airport and I chilled at the house, awaiting my next move.  Another gutsy one.  I had agreed to travel with a stranger from gumtree.co.nz (think craigslist).  Terry Fernando from Sri Lanka wanted to go to the Bay of Islands the next day and so did I.  His post seemed like a personal ad at first but I had told him I wasn’t interested in anything romantic so there would be no miscommunication on the trip.  I was clear as crystal.  Everything was finally arranged but it was weird that he hadn’t answered my question on accommodation.  I had inquired several times and told him I was on a budget so would probably  couch surf or stay at a hostel.  His final email told me not to worry- accommodation was sorted.  ???

                The next morning, Terry picked me up around noon time in his very nice Mercedes Benz.  Here I go again, trusting nice cars.  I would have definitely been a victim of Ted Bundy's.  He was very dark, very quiet, and, yes, he sported a very, scary moustache.  Why are moustaches so creepy?  I was trying not to judge slash racially profile slash thin-slice him.  People had said if it didn’t feel right then I shouldn’t go with him.  What feels right though when you're dealing with different nationalities?  I can’t really spot a sketchy foreigner from a regular foreigner since so much can boil down to cultural differences.  I had my mace nearby and was firing questions that all seemed to check out in the first half hour.

                During the car ride, there was a lot of quiet time.  He didn’t understand me a lot and laughed at things that weren’t really funny (like when I asked if people could talk on their cell phones while they drove).  Clearly not funny but he went on and on laughing.   He had answered a call shortly into the trip and was speaking another language.  He was very brief and I was wondering if he was saying, “Yes, I got the girl.  I’m going to kill her at exit 6.”  And then he had gotten off the highway to follow the scenic route so I was questioning that too.  Also, I found it really strange that he had lived in Auckland for 12 years and had never gone to the famous Bay of Islands. 

We stopped for lunch at an Irish bar in Whangarie and Terry insisted on paying and that I would pay for the next one.  I was concerned that he may think this is romantic afterall.  After he told me he was a huge Michael Jackson fan, the thriller video came on in the pub.  And guess who had never seen it before?  Terry.  Some fan.  We checked into a motel and I was starting to be on high alert.  I insisted on staying at the YHA because I couldn’t afford a motel but he laughed it off and counter-insisted it was not a problem for him to pay.  He was really nice and I thought that maybe I was judging him too much.  He hadn't done anything outright that caused concern.  I just didn’t want him to expect anything later.  I had been sharing space with plenty of strangers on this trip so I was fine with that aspect.

                We watched some tv in the room and he offered me a beer and  I stupidly didn’t watch him pour it out of the can.  I had promised myself that I wouldn’t accept any drinks without watching where they came from.  I was fearful that I would quickly go numb from the neck down and kept my mace close by. Happy my legs still worked 30 minutes later, we headed into town to eat at a lively bar/restaurant.   They had some great live music that I would have loved to dance to if I were not there with this guy.  I gave him the impression that I had two left feet and despised dancing.  He was becoming a tiny bit touchy and my tolerance was extremely low.  He kept encouraging me to drink more and I was starting to get nervous.  When he excused himself for the bathroom, I made the bartender aware of my situation and that she was not to serve me any alcohol.

                I soon excused myself and went back to the motel to watch the royal wedding.  It was a lot of fluff and fantasy but so much better than hanging out with Terry.  He came home a little drunk and was walking around with a shirt on top and a towel on the bottom.  I was so uncomfortable.  He continued to drink in the room and lit a cigar at the doorway.  What is it with smokers that really think smoking by a door or window won’t make a room smell like smoke?  Obviously there will be wafting.  The room smelled like his nasty cigars and I had to ask him to go outside.  Check me out.  This guy has driven me all the way up to the Bay of Islands, paid for almost everything along the way, and I kick him out of the motel when he wants to smoke.  I slept with my mace that night just in case.  As expected, nothing happened.

The next morning, Terry was hung over so he slept late.  I had showered and visited the internet and researched my next move before he finally woke up.  He said that he got a call and would have to leave for Auckland today.  I decided it would be better to be stranded here than drive back with him.  We took the ferry to Russell for breakfast and then he dropped me in the wonderful town of Kerikeri!   All in all, Terry really was harmless and I feel bad picking on him.  He was very nice but just made me feel uncomfortable.            



Terry-less in Kerikeri, I tapped into CouchSurfing.com and threw out some desperate emails to see if any locals could house me for the night.  I set out to explore the town that shared my name as I awaited email replies.  I could have walked 45 minutes to the Kerikeri Chocolate Factory but I was carrying my bookbag, purse, and duffel bag of clothes.  So I stuck my thumb out again to hitch a ride 3km out of the town center.  A VW van with 3 Argentinian guys almost caused a traffic jam when they pulled over for me.  In our brief time together, I learned that they were traveling for a year or two and just picking up work along their travels.  It was pretty cool.  The driver questioned why I told them I was from ‘America’ since America actually encompasses North America, Central America and South America.  I didn’t have a great response ready but it’s really made me think.  We’re the only country that actually has America in our name so it’s not surprising that we would say that.  If they were from ‘The Argentinian Republic of America’ then I could see why they might call themselves America as well.  But we actually call it America within our own country and maybe they aren’t aware of that.  I wonder if we appear arrogant by other nations by referring to ourselves that way.  I don’t like saying, “USA” because I consider it less honorable when you abbreviate your own country.  I also don’t like saying,  “United States” because those are just English words and not the name of a country.  What are your thoughts on that?  Are we wrong in calling ourselves America?  I think not.  We’re Americans…people from America.

                I had some nice samples of the chocolate factory and then headed 500 yards up the road to the fudge factory.  Man, Kerikeri was my kind of place!!!  After sampling plenty of fudge from the wonderful woman working behind the counter, she asked where I was staying and I told her of my predicament.  Jacky had never heard of couch surfing and asked who I was waiting to hear from.  I told her the names and sure enough she knew them!  Seriously?!?!  There are only 2 degrees of separation in this country!  She was SO incredibly nice and friendly.  She sold fudge for goodness sakes!  You can’t be more trusting than that.  She said if I didn’t hear from the couchsurfers, I could stay on her couch that night!  What an angel!

                I hitchhiked back to town with a woman named Stella who had lived in Scotland for 20 years, Australia for 30 years and was now retired in Kerikeri.  The first woman to pick me up!  Solidarity, sister!  I killed time until Jacky picked me up around 6pm.  We settled into her quaint house about 10 minutes outside of the town center.  She was such a little scatterbrain full of giggles!  She had recently left her husband after 25 years of marriage and was doing marvelously!  They were on very good terms and the kids (23, 21, and 18) agreed that they just weren’t meant for each other.  She picked some vegetables from her garden and we threw together some dinner.  We had great conversation over dinner and I was amazed to hear about her independence.  She once grew and sold basil commercially to make money on the side, she lived on a commune for 4 months, she was a talented painter and had her own studio for a bit.  She had so many talents and dabbled in all of them throughout her life.  I really, genuinely, loved the way my night had shaped up!  What an amazing person to have opened up her home and her life to me.  This is exactly what I wanted this trip to be like.

The following morning, we shared some breakfast together before Jacky drove me around town.   Kerikeri means, ‘dig dig’ and the area is well known for its fertile soil and was one of the first areas discovered by English missionaries.  It had a strong Maori population and the famous Treaty of Waitangi was signed nearby.  I wasn’t able to visit The Rainbow Falls due to the weather but Jacky showed me the famous Stone store (first store in NZ) and dropped me off at a farmer’s market before enjoying her day off.  Kerikeri was also known for its great oranges so, being the orange juice connoisseur that I am, I gladly paid too much for a fresh squeezed OJ from a local farmer.  It was the best I’ve ever tasted in all of my life.  What a great town.  What a great name!



Welcome to Kerikeri!



Yummy fudge factory in Kerikeri



Russell



Town of Russell



Bay of Islands- town of Russell



Dusky Dolphins of Kaikoura, Hot springs of Hanmer, and Confessions of a Hitchhiker- OH MY!

The town of Picton is the gateway for all the ferries that travel between the North and South Island.  We watched cars, campers, vans and trucks board the massive ships en route to Wellington, the country’s capital.  I had a magnificent chocolate milkshake in a very cute café while observing its operations.  There was a hard-working woman behind the counter and you could tell she quarterbacked the whole operation.  There was such a welcoming, artsy feel to the place.  After I ordered, they gave me a beautifully painted rock with my order number on it.  I thought it was such a nice touch.  It could have just been a plain number like any other place but it wasn’t.  These cute rocks were more personal and gave character to the restaurant, the town, and the country.  Thank you, small cafe owner.

                We were so cold the next morning in Kaikoura that we hoped our long-awaited dolphin encounter trip would be cancelled.  The thought of swimming in 15 degree Celsius water was not appealing in dreary weather but fortunately/unfortunately the ship would sail!  Outfitted in our thick wetsuits, we took to the stormy seas in pursuit of the famous Dusky Dolphins of Kaikoura.  Now this wasn’t like anything I had seen in Florida where the Marriot has two trained dolphins in a confined pool that swim near you.  These were wild dolphins that come into the harbor in pods of hundreds.  There was a 95% encounter rate but they don’t bait the area so there is no way of predicting how successful each trip will be. 

The sea was really strong and I felt the cheap thrill of losing my stomach with every large wave.  I headed up top to help the skipper and my new German friend, Stefan, look for the dolphin pods and was thrilled to spot some sea lions as well as the infamous albatross birds with a wingspan of over 7 feet!  After about 30 minutes, we saw lots of duskies leaping through the waves and doing backflips in the water!  Knowing our window was unpredictable, we turned into Navy seals that were ordered to, “Go, go go!” into the water.  My adrenaline was so high that I was hardly bothered by the cold water.  I put my mask into the water and started making funny noises in order to attract the dolphins.  It proved to be completely unnecessary because these dolphins were EVERYWHERE!!  And ready for a good time! They were darting all around me in every direction, all within arm’s length.  I was singing to them through my snorkeling mask, “Who wants to swim with me??”  We were told that if we made eye contact with them and started swimming in a circle, they would follow.  It was almost impossible to keep up with them!  They were such gorgeous creatures and so playful.  We were there to entertain THEM, not the other way around.

Dusky dolphins!

You scuba??

Bird in Kaikoura



Dolphins!!

It's all about eye contact.

Albatross.  Have fear.

Do you want to swim with me??

                For thirty minutes, I was overwhelmed by the beautiful duskies.  They were so interactive that it was hard to believe that they were wild.  Why would they even want to play with me if I wasn’t feeding them anything?  Why weren’t they afraid of me?  There were times when three of them would come darting straight towards me and I thought, ‘What if a shark snuck his way into the group!?’   Luckily this was not the case.

                The horn sounded and we all made our way back to the boat.  When I got on board I realized that we had lost half of our group to sea-sickness.  Most girls had their heads in buckets for the rest of the trip home while the rest of us were absolutely freezing!  It may have been the coldest I have ever been in my life.  They served us hot chocolate and cookies back on land but it took quite some time to restore body temperature.  Thank goodness the trip wasn't cancelled!  The dolphin encounters of Kaikoura turned out to be one of the best parts of my trip!!

                I came out to find Maria talking to officials because our car battery was dead- someone left the lights on.  That person’s name may have rhymed with “Terry” but there is not enough evidence to place full blame.  We had a delicious meal right in the café and then I drove us on the beautifully scenic road to Hanmer Springs.  I didn’t think I could be further impressed by the scenery in this country but, sure enough, I was.

                The Hanmer Springs were kind of nasty.  I felt like I was at Disney World- the pools were so overcrowded and there were kids everywhere.  I don’t consider a hot pool experience appropriate for a child.  We spent a few hours in the human cess pools and then drove as far as Christ Church before staying on the side of the road.  Our last night before going our separate ways.

We were blown away by the beautiful blue water of Akiemore the following day!  God, it honestly turned me on!  I was hot for this water!  I just wanted to pour it all over my skin.  The drive to Omarama was outstanding due to the mountains surrounding this pristine water.   I’ll never see anything like that again.  Incredible. 



                The next leg of my journey was a gutsy one.  I was going to hitchhike for the first time from Omarama to Queenstown (about 2 hours).  Maria was worried when she left for the hunting lodge but said she would check in several times that evening.  I put my bags on the side of the road and stuck out my thumb.  It was not a heavily populated road and there seemed to be a lot of older couples not interested in accommodating a third passenger.  After about 20 cars, a nice BMW pulled up with a handsome man named Charles.  I asked where he was going (because you’re not supposed to say where you’re going just in case the person’s weird and you want to get out earlier) and he said near Queenstown.  He helped me with my bag and reassuringly said, ‘I used to do this all the time when I was younger so I’m happy to help.’

                Charles was awesome!  He was a father of three and husband of one.  He worked for himself in capital introduction for hedge funds around New Zealand so we talked shop!  He had worked in NYC for 7 years as an international sales trader for Credit Suisse.  He had a fabulous life.  His wife was also self-employed as an interior decorator and they sounded like the ultimate power couple.  They vacationed for three months every year with (and without) their kids all over the world!  I’m not sure how but he remained modest when telling me about the different locations we passed.  He would nonchalantly say that his uncle owned the upcoming town.  Granted the town had a population of 50 and consisted of a general store, café, and souvenir shop…but his uncle owned them all.  And then the next town was covered by wineries, which were owned by their close family friend.  His cousin’s family owned a 4000 sq mile hunting lodge in the next town after that and his wife’s family owned the winery in the town after that!  I was beginning to notice a theme here.  The country was only 4 million people and 2 million of them live in Auckland.  So if you grew up in an area outside of Queenstown like he did, you would know everyone.  And one person would own most of the town.  He was kind enough to stop off at the famous AJ Hackett Bungy location but we couldn’t stay long enough to watch anyone jump.  He knew the famous guys that started that as well. Haha.

                He dropped me off near Arrowtown and I stuck my thumb out again.  The next guy had a nice car as well but the windows were tinted, which is always alarming.  He was probably about 60 years old and was an insurance adjuster.  We had a brief 15 minutes together before he dropped me outside of Queenstown.  For the last 5km, a younger guy welcomed me into his beat up car reeking of cigarettes.  Hitchhikers could not be choosers and I was grateful to make it to Queenstown alive.  I was proud to have done it alone.  Hitchhiking in NZ was easy-peezy!   J

                Heading back to the North Island tomorrow for the last few days in New Zealand.

Lake Aviemore



Lake Aviemore



The Easter egg heist!

Abel Tasman hike

Abel Tasman hike

Abel Tasman hike- sailing

Cairns

Brooklyn!!  Thatta way!

Black Swan on Farewell Spit

ABEL TASMAN NATIONAL PARK and NELSON, NZ

                I didn’t sleep well last night.  A new girl (from Australia, black, overweight) had joined our 3-man hostel room and her snoring was a little inconvenient.  In the middle of the night I had a dream that a 30-something year old version of myself had just arrived home to my house in suburbia and was taking groceries out of the trunk of the car.  While the garage door was automatically closing, 3 teenage punks in ski masks slipped under the door and trapped themselves inside with me in hopes of robbing me.  I remember one of them had a lighter.  I was awoken from this dream to find a large black figure hovering over me.  I was so disoriented and scared!  It was my new roommate telling me that I was snoring and that I should turn over.  I let her know that she was snoring too.  She told me to wake her if it gets loud.  I told her I had ear plugs and wouldn’t ever wake a stranger.  I may have done the same in her position but not after being on the other end.  It’s scary enough to be sleeping with up to 7 strangers that could steal your stuff.  Now I know how scary it is to be woken up by a stranger in a strange place!  Reminder:  pick up more ear plugs.

                We headed to Motueka where we found the only sketchy people in all of New Zealand.  There were legit gangs loitering on the street corners.  It was so random!  We checked out Split Apple Rock nearby  and visited the two golden beaches of Kaiteriteri for sunset.  Very pretty and very peaceful.   I wish it were summertime.

The next morning we took the water taxi from Marahau to Bark Bay for our 25km Abel Tasman hike.  Everyone else at the water taxi pick-up looked intense!  They were decked out in his and hers matching hiking outfits from REI.   The tide was drastic so we boarded our boat on land and were driven to the water by a tractor.  The hiking path was very manicured.  They made it pretty easy on their hikers in New Zealand.  It was more like a safe, dirt path for walking.  No climbing involved.  We made a snack stop at Cleopatra’s pool and took a few small hikes down to the beaches.  There were some really pretty lookouts that Maria thought were comparable to Thailand.  I imagine they are much nicer in the summer time when you could use a refreshing dip.  Seven hours later, we finished with sore joints but soaring egos. 

                The rain followed us to Takaka so we decided to catch a movie at the local cinema.  With our luck we had actually stumbled into town in time for the international film festival.  The theatre was a large room with modest stadium seating in the middle and lots of comfy couches along the sides.  There were also large beanbag pillows toward the front.  Very cool.  We saw a good Italian romantic comedy called, ‘Many Kisses Later’.  It was a lot like Love Actually, which was well received.  I was having such a wonderful time in New Zealand that I hadn’t been concerned about my love life in the slightest.  It was nice to zone out in the land of love for a couple hours- laugh, cry, and restore faith for the future.

We headed out to Farewell Spit the next morning even though the weather continued to be dreary.  I loved the beautiful black swans of Farewell Spit while we walked along the 23km of desert-like landscape at the northernmost tip of the South Island.  It was much larger and more fertile than I was expecting.  We headed west across the sand dunes to reach the Tasman Sea before it started raining again.  The beach was filled with small sea shells that made the most pleasant crunch noise under my sneakers.  It was so peaceful- so New Zealand.  It was a good place to celebrate Easter Sunday.

                We made it to Nelson at 8:30pm and I gave Maria a look- you want to sneak into the YHA to steal a shower?  It was brilliant.  The hostel requires a code after 8:00pm but luckily we drove up just when a guest was entering.  I snuck in with the guest and was very surprised to see a receptionist still at the desk.  They were supposed to leave at 8!  I tried to act cool and grabbed a pamphlet before bee-lining for the kitchen.  I snuck out onto the patio so I could catch Maria outside and tell her there was someone at the front desk and she shouldn’t come in.  She smuggled me a dozen eggs between the wrought iron fence so that I could at least boil us some eggs for the next few days.  I started my cooking in the kitchen where I met a very strange American who had been living in Australia and New Zealand most of his life and appeared to have dabbled in some LSD over the years while playing in his band.  This guy was so annoying but acted as the perfect decoy when the receptionist came into the kitchen to check up on things.  I felt like he was onto me but LSD-guy just kept talking and talking so he couldn’t interrupt.  I heard him locking things up around the hostel and I knew the coast would be clear by the time this guy stopped talking. 

                The eggs finished boiling and I met Maria at the entrance to let her in.  We took the quickest showers of our lives and busted out of the YHA just as one of the resident housekeepers took notice.  We were on such a heist high when we rolled into a picnic area in Picton to sleep for the night.  What a happy Easter!

The road abroad is, like, WOW.

En route to PUNAKAIKI and NELSON, NZ. 

                It wasn’t the best night’s sleep due to the heavy rain, nearby crashing waves, freezing temperatures and potential fear of being caught by the cops.  We had seen several cars pulled off to the side of the road so I’m not sure if it’s illegal but I thought it could be.   My feet and face were the only cold parts throughout the night.  I found my niche in the sectional beds we had pieced together around 3am.  Maria turned the heat on around 7:15am- so Russians DO have a breaking point.  Interesting.

Sleeping in the car

                We enjoyed waking up to an ocean view despite the frigid sea wind and continued on to visit the highly anticipated pancake rocks and blowholes of Punakaiki.  They were so cool!  The water must have been close to high tide because we got some great pictures of the water swirling within the rock formations before crashing and spraying high into the air. 





Punakaiki



Crash! Pancake rocks and blowholes of Punakaiki

                After a 3 hour hike in Punakaiki and a terrible dinner, nighttime was among us and the temperature read 1 degree Celsius.  I convinced Maria to keep driving in hopes that the weather would improve. Fifteen minutes outside the small city of Nelson, we found two bunnies on the road of small farming fields that hopped toward a plot of land we would call home for the night.  We wondered whether we would be the object of some farmer’s desire the next morning but exhaustion convinced us that this was as good of a spot as any. 

                As expected, I froze that night despite my many layers.  We woke up at 9:00 to a very sunny rural setting with lots of tractors going by the dirt road.  We collected ourselves just long enough to come up with a game plan: SHOWER ASAP.  We checked into the hostel at Nelson and were sad to discover that they had blocked their network and we wouldn’t be able to hack free internet.  After feeling like a million New Zealand bucks from our first shower in 2 days (ok, fine, 3 days), we discovered some wonderful cheese scones at Yaza Café- very funky, very fresh.  The café was funky, the scones were fresh.

Maria wanted to check out the World of Wearable Art Museum (WOW) and I was hesitant since I had vowed no more stupid museums.  Luckily, this one was not stupid!  There was a fashion show that started in Nelson approximately 20 years ago that encouraged people to design art that could be worn.  Kind of like what Lady Gaga does for a living now.  The show quickly gained popularity and soon relocated to larger quarters in Wellington but the museum remained.  They had some outrageous outfits, mostly for female models, as well as a special bra competition.  They had amazing boulder-holders for all women- enticing compilation of fruits for the hungry yet sensual, stacks of pancakes topped with blueberries for those that were flat chested and some thorny cactus for those…that know men.

                Strangely paired with the outrageous fashionable art were some gorgeous antique cars.  The stunning displays of Jaguars, Cadillacs, Studebakers, Fords, and BMWs made me think of my family and my grandfather, in particular, who had always loved them.  It was also interesting to see how much America was responsible for the evolution of cars.  New Zealand relies on Japanese automobile imports since they are located much closer but most cars on display were clearly from America based on the location of the steering wheel and model year.  I got some nice pictures inside the Delorean but Marty McFly was nowhere to be found.  The museum was really cool and just large enough that I fulfilled my cultural intake for the day.    

A Prince Charles bra at the W.O.W. Museum

W.O.W. Museum

Dear boss, We quit.  -Kerri and Maria

1937 BMW 328 at W.O.W. Museum

                That night I couldn’t ignore the uneasy feeling that had been in my stomach since we arrived in Wanaka a few days earlier.  Somewhere inside of me I wanted to skydive but wasn’t sure if it would ever play out in real life.  When I booked my ticket here I thought that it would take some heavy convincing from other travelers to have me join them in a jump.  Then I realized that I was strong enough to take this trip on my own and I was more than strong enough to jump out of a god damn airplane by myself.  I had been disappointed when the weather wasn’t good enough for skydiving in Wanaka, which only made me realize how much I wanted to do it.  I made a call and five minutes later I had made an appointment for 1:00 the next day.  That was that.

We made our way into the impressive tv lounge to watch the end of Moonstruck before watching The Lord of The Rings. So cliché!  What dorks!  But we were the only two people in New Zealand that had either never seen it or weren’t impacted by it so we gave it another try.  Seven people started out watching and I was the only one remaining.  I couldn’t wait for it to end. 

                I was more than ready when Kris, the skydiving van driver, arrived.  He had arrived with his 80 year old mother in tow.  Normally I wouldn’t mind talking to an elderly woman but this one was very difficult to hear.  She was trying to tell me about the recent tornadoes in America but I had no patience while reading the damn liability waiver from the skydiving company.  Wait, I could die from this?  Who’s my emergency contact?  Well, my parents but they were sure to be shocked by a call saying I died while skydiving since I didn’t tell them I was going.  Plus, I didn’t know the US country code so I had to put their MA number and hope for the best.  At the last minute, I put Maria’s NZ number on there as a backup.  But she was a backpacker (and Russian!)- She might just rob my pockets of any two dollar bills and leave me to the NZ government.  There is a NZ government, right?  We have yet to see any officials on this trip.

                We arrived at Skydive Abel Tasman and things moved very quickly.  They quickly rushed me inside and threw a jumpsuit on me before I could say, ‘I don’t know if I should do this.’  I met my tandem diving instructor, Scruffy (why wouldn’t his name by Scruffy?), was interviewed by my cameraman and boarded onto the plane all within 5 minutes.  The cabin space was tiny so all 6 of us basically straddled each other as we climbed up to 16500 feet.  Finally I asked, “So what do I do?”  I was expecting some kind of safety instruction, maybe a run-down of rules, possibly some regulations but there was nothing.  The drone of the airplane engine, as well as their thick NZ accents made it difficult to understand all the rehearsed instructions they were spewing off.  I didn’t freak out until they started handing out oxygen masks at 12,000 feet.  WTF was this for??

                We were high.  REALLY high.  I had no one familiar to me to share my anxiety!  No one up there was going to talk me out of it- these guys jumped up to 20 times per day.  Scruffy did some last minute strap adjustments and then the cabin door opened.  The cabin filled with thin, screaming air and the camera man hung out the side.  Scruffy and I scooted up til only Scruffy was sitting on the edge and I was hanging out of the plane.  We smiled for the video camera, smiled at the wing camera, and then rocked  1-2-3 before we jumped out.  I lost my stomach for just a tiny bit since we weren’t moving from an inanimate object.  It was my breath and my mind that I lost instead.  When you are in such shock that you don’t breathe, you don’t really think either.   And therefore, there were no screams. Just an inner monologue repeating, “Oh my god.” 

                The camera man came closer but I wasn’t really sure what he was doing.  He was making all kinds of gestures and I wasn’t sure if there was some instruction that was lost in translation or if he was giving me ideas for the camera.  I was good at giving the thumbs up and rock and roll signs but really wasn’t sure what to do after that.  I knew I was going to look really unattractive in the pictures as it was.   My round face, plus wind rushing at 120mph, plus that ugly weiner cap they make you wear.  It wasn’t going to be pretty.  I still couldn’t catch my breath and my mouth was drying up so I stuck my tongue out to try to lick my lips.  Captured on camera, this was a whole new level of ugly that I wasn’t even expecting.  I held onto the camera man’s hands and we did tight spins on a few occasions.  The sixty seconds of free fall was so long that I eventually did wrap my head around the situation because I had finally remembered that a parachute was supposed to open.  It was well received and we started to float over the town of Matueka like Willy Wonka in his glass elevator.  I finally began to breathe and my brain functioning returned.  Scruffy loosened up the straps ‘to make things more comfortable’ but I reassured him that was unnecessary and he really shouldn’t loosen them too much!  He asked if I got motion sickness before he started doing spins in both directions.  We slowly drifted toward Middle Earth again and Scruffy calmly debriefed me on the landing procedure.  It was a very safe landing and there were lots of smiles and high fives when we were safely on the ground.