The Future of Sheepworld

A Fan of Sports Fans

2010-02-11T02:51:00.000-08:00

I’m not afraid to admit that I am not, nor have I ever been, a sports fan. And no it is not my extreme lack of physical coordination that puts me off, nor the guilt from single handedly bringing down any team unfortunate to have me join them… as I am never able to catch a football (sorry Dariusz), throw a Frisbee (sorry Hana), hit with a cricket bat (sorry Dean), or know which direction I should be running in (sorry to all 3). I’m sure if I put in ¾ teaspoon of effort, I could begin to make sense of all the peculiar rules associated with the different games… but it doesn’t interest me, so I don’t. However, what I do find interesting is the fans themselves. Whether it’s a group of people packed into a pub with a pint in hand and eyes fixated on the screen in the corner, or the masses congregating to a stadium to witness the battlefield firsthand, the energy and enthusiasm is incredible and very entertaining to watch. Last weekend, I was fortunate enough to be a spectator of this fervor in full force, but whether it was all for the love of the game is questionable…

Sports and nationalism are, of course, greatly intertwined. A sports match provides a venue for symbolic competition, and the passionate cheering that resounds at a game serves to demonstrate a collective pride in this important aspect of a country’s identity. As it is well known, Rugby is to New Zealand as basketball is to Canada (Dr. James Naismith. Cut a hole in that basket. A Part of our Heritage… okay, I know, I meant Hockey). It is embedded in the national psyche, and is a key element of their culture. Or so they say. When I went to watch one of the biggest international Rugby competitions here in Wellington, it was a very different scene. By different I mean I have never experienced a craziness like it before, but I don’t think it had anything to do with the Rugby.

The event I’m talking about is the Rugby Sevens, a variant on the game where there are seven players on each side instead of the usual 15, making for shorter, more intense matches. The excitement leading up to it descends upon Wellington like climate change critics on a flawed IPCC report. But the excitement isn’t necessarily to watch some of the world’s top Rugby teams (yes Canada was there!!) compete for glory. No no no. It is for the insane awesome party that will claim the city streets and leave ruin in its wake. Now the most important aspect of this party is the costumes, or what they call here Fancy Dress. People will work on gathering their friends, and creating their costumes for months beforehand… it puts our Halloween celebrations and efforts to shame. There were dozens of Buzz Lightyears, I can’t count how many Spartans and Avatars, and one group dressed up as 101 Dalmatians! I had received free tickets to the match on the starting day and so didn’t have any time to make up a costume, which I didn’t think would be a problem…. It was. It’s a strange thing to have a man wearing a bikini, feather boa and heels, walking with his friend Spiderman, make a snarky judging remark about how you’re dressed, and feel deeply embarrassed.

Oh and then there’s the drinking. As I was walking to work at 9:00 on the Friday morning, there were people out on patios with pitchers of beer, and in the case of what appeared to be a meeting of butchers… several bottles of wine. I thought I had somehow got my time zones mixed up and was REALLY late for work. Nope. That’s when it starts… and it doesn’t end until 2 days later. It’s alcoholism under the guise of Rugby obsession. So I suppose what I’m saying is that they are not a nation enamoured with watching men built like trees tackle each other over a ball… they just look for any excuse to throw a crazy party, which is just as commendable a cultural trait as any in my opinion.

This has been brought to you by the letter W....

2010-01-06T05:19:00.000-08:00

Did I mention I moved to Wellington? I have been living (by whatever definition it means to have lived somewhere) in the country’s capital for nearly two months now, and have settled in quite nicely to the ups, downs and blustery turnarounds of this funky, vibrant city. There have been highs and lows, I laughed and cried, and Peter Jackson made a cameo (as per usual when one moves to a new place). Here are a few of the main characteristics of life in a windy, dynamic town.

When I say this city is windy, I don’t mean a light sea breeze or an afternoon zephyr. Somewhere in the world a butterfly is flapping its wings constantly, and chaos theory is concentrating its effects on Wellington. This is no average turn-your-umbrella-upside-down sort of strong wind. This blowing air will take whatever sanity and stability on earth you thought you had and send it left! Then right! Then up and ... gone! I wish I could say I was exaggerating (but I’m not capable of it), and I really don’t mind it…. Truth be told I know I’m going to be blown off a hillside into oblivion on one of those days that I’m walking to work with a patio umbrella, but it’s how I always wanted to go.

Which reminds me of work. It’s nice to have a work to walk to. Let’s just say that finding a job in Wellington was about as difficult as finding Nemo, the ring… or meaning in a Pauly Shore movie. We moved here at a time when all the students were finishing up at school and were fully available to their current employers, leaving us working holiday makers on a very low budget holiday. Now some of us (Mike and Janelle) have practical degrees, and already had jobs lined up at the hospital. Hana was able to use her luck and charm to get a job quite quickly at a funky Cuban Café… which left the rest of us unemployable. Fortunately, there were a few leftover job scraps and I just so happened to score a position as a flyer hander outer for Butler’s Chocolate Shop. Luckily for my other jobless friends, Evelyn and Jeb, I utilized my excellent networking skills to get them jobs as well working alongside me in the gutter, I mean sidewalk. For 3 hours a day I would stand there offering people a coupon for a dollar off a hot drink and my dignity which they took quite readily. Now I know I sound disparaging and bitter, but I didn’t mention that it paid $12.50 an hour, and we received our choice of hot beverage at the end! And they say you can’t put a price on pride…

(Situation has changed and we all now have real jobs that we are actually happy in! Just so you know. But that could change too. Sigh.)

Now if I can put away the complaining stick for just a moment, I have to say that aside from the wind and the work woes, Wellington is absolutely wonderful. It’s walkable, whimsical, and wicked as. We go rock climbing frequently, attend Trivia nights regularly (they take Trivia very seriously here and the Guelph team could clean up!), and witness World Unicycling Championships on occasion (They’re on right now! So many people on one wheel! Too much to handle!…or none at all he he). It is a great place to be if you don’t mind the occasional earthquake, and like ukuleles (yes there is an international Wellington Ukulele Orchestra).

The Good, The Bad, and the Undecideds...

2009-12-06T23:07:00.000-08:00

New Zealand is a country of contrasts and quirks. It is fascinating and frustrating, beautiful and backwards, instilling a sense of wonderment in its beholders, while evoking exasperation as well. Of course it has a great deal to offer; National Geographic Traveller magazine doesn’t bestow the title of top travel destination 2009 without guaranteeing its well-deserved (unless of course they’ve been bribed…. with sheep. Have you read some of their articles? There’s a lot of fluff in there! Booo…. Or should I say baaaa), but the National Geographic panel of judges may have been so overwhelmed by this country’s marvellous attributes (or drunk off the wine) that they failed to notice some of the less appealing features. First I will try to sell you on a trip here, then state the reasons you should demand some sort of discount, followed by a few points that make you feel Swiss on the matter…

The Good:

1) Have you seen Lord of the Rings?! Sorry to play that card and I’m sure I will be beat up for it later (most likely by Hana), but it must be done. The landscape is breathtaking. Whether on the coast, surrounded by forest, or gazing at mountains, there seems to be an unlimited supply of "Wow!s" to be pulled out of your word bag and thrown forcefully at the person standing next to you. Pictures don’t do it justice. It’s wicked as.

2) 2) There is a gastronomically delightful experience to be had by everyone. Whether you are sugar-free, gluten-free, lactose-free, cruelty-free, does-not-cast-a-shadow, or even just one of those strange unenlightened ‘normies’ you will ask and it will be deliciously given. Kiwis take pride in their food and wine and rightfully so. I could go on for a while about this… and probably will in another note.

3) Festivals. On every corner, weekend, and interest. Music fests with amazing international and local acts, food and wine events, art and film festivals from different nations, extreme sports, unicycles, sheep shearing, Haka dance competitions, you name it, it’s taking place in festival form somewhere in the country right now….

There are of course many more goods, but we need to leave some room for…

The Bads:

1) The housing: Don’t get me wrong, there is some very cool home design around these parts, but the interiors can be lacking in the sense that there is no insulation! What the function? It’s not as though colder temperatures are a recent occurrence. No no, its been cool during winter and spring for a while here, and they’ve seen what’s out there. So use it! Oh and they have two faucets in every bathroom sink, as in one hot tap and one cold tap, which makes about as much sense as tetraneutrons (the first person to write me as to why this doesn't make sense receives a prize in the mail). Scalding hot or freezing cold, these are the only two options for washing your face.

2) Overpriced, terribly slow internet.

3) Overpriced lots of things. Zucchinis, bike parts, shoes, books, contact solution (good thing I don’t wear them :)

4) Very, very, very poor customer service (not in all circumstances, but a lot)

5) Newspapers… or information about the world outside New Zealand, which wouldn’t be so bad if the internet wasn’t so overpriced and terribly slow….

There are of course more bads, but maybe you think they’re in the following category…

The Undecideds

1) No shoes? No problem. You can go barefoot everywhere in the country. Grocery stores, shopping malls, fancy cellar doors for wine tasting, there is always someone exercising their right to let their toes run wild and free.

2) Prostitution is legal.

3) Not wearing a bike helmet on the other hand is illegal (not sure how I feel about this one, studies have shown mandatory helmets are related to increases in bike accidents. The law causes ridership to drop, which leads to motorists being less cautious of cyclists…hmm)

4) Possum culling. Invasive species that has destroyed native flora so they bump off the little guys when/wherever they can. Both make me a sad panda.

5) Marshmallows.

Well that’s it for now. Hopefully, I was able to sell you on a trip to come visit me! The deal is I throw in a free pickup from the airport and a place to sleep…. If you’re still not satisfied, I can offer some sort of daily compliment or clever proverb. You decide.

No shame caves here....

2009-12-06T02:42:00.000-08:00

When you visit a country for the first time, someone along the way will pose the question “So what’s the best thing you’ve seen/done/experienced so far?” (The answer to all three is Fried Green Tomatoes) I typically struggle with finding a response to this one. If you’ve constantly been on the go, there can be any number of extraordinary things you’ve experienced, and it can be difficult to find one that truly topped the list as most exceptional. Not so this time.

A few weeks ago, while Hana and I were still nomads, we found ourselves driving through a place called Waitomo, and thought it a good idea to go caving. Okay it really wasn’t that spontaneous. When we first met up in Auckland, there were three serious decisions that were made; Buy a car, drive around in it, and go caving in Waitomo. We employed a number of unique decision-making tactics and analyzed cost-benefit ratios to reach these decisions, so if anyone would like strategy advice let us know.

There are a number of different adventure companies that operate in the area, each one owning the rights to a different cave system and offering various approaches to experiencing them. Abseiling, black water rafting, glow worms, stalagmites and stalactites (know which is which?) were among them. Now in order to address our issues with heights (Hana) and small confined spaces (me… I trace it back to being born), we thought we’d go for something that had everything. We joined a group of six, which included an awesome Canadian couple in their sixties, and two awkward Germans. It was lead by a hilarious kiwi with a sharp tongue and low tolerance for stupidity, and a handsome young apprentice starting out on his first day of work as a cave guide. We only lost half the group that afternoon.

Thus began one of the most incredible things I’ve ever done. Does everyone remember the episode of Caves on Planet Earth where they abseil 30 meters down into the limestone caves and the ceilings are covered in glow worms? That’s where we went. Hana and I spelunked all over that subterranean world. We crawled through tiny rock crevasses, fought our way through rapids, and turned off our headlamps to follow a path that was only lit by millions of (hungry) living stars. All that was missing was the delightful commentary of David Attenborough who I wish narrated my every move. No, I take that back…..

The awesomeness of the day actually did not end there. In asking our cave guide for advice on where we could park our car overnight to sleep, we somehow ended up at his home where we met his wonderful family who welcomed us in, offered us dinner, a place to sleep, and a tour of the largest private collection of chainsaws in the southern hemisphere. It was amazing, both him and his family, and the chainsaws. Best. Episode. Ever.

Now if only we had taken his father’s advice on Wellington…. And the wind. My god, the wind. We can’t say we weren’t warned….

Go sell crazy somewhere else.

2009-11-06T02:38:00.001-08:00

If you’re ever looking for a vacation filled with uber-alternative life philosophies, colourful characters (with oh so vibrant auras), and an organic lunch served with a large helping of quack, then look no further then WWOOFing in New Zealand. As I have mentioned previously, Hana and I have been saving money by staying with people for a week or so, and working for them in exchange for food and accommodation. However, there are other unforeseen costs associated with WWOOFing, namely one’s patience and sanity in dealing with the eccentricities of the hosts.

Our first experience was with the German couple, Rolf and Inge, who ran the eco-wellness centre and organic garden in the North. I have already mentioned the homeopathy. Enough said right? Oh, but then there were our lovely lunchtime discussions about a range of topics including salad ingredients, different country’s healthcare systems, local historical must-see sights, and the 2012 Mayan Prophecy. Everyone’s familiar with this one right? I am of course referring to the Mayan Long Count Calendar that ends on Dec. 21, 2012 and posits that some worldwide catastrophic or transformative events will take place that will alter the nature of humanity. Now if all goes well, we could all be looking at advancing to a higher spiritual dimension. That’s the good news. However, if circumstances head in unfavourable directions, we could be looking at a major geomagnetic reversal, and our universe pulsating at a much higher (apparently uninhabitable) frequency. Now if this concerns any of you, I have located our sanctuary. Rolf and Inge have already acquired a special machine that will be able to recreate the frequency of a pre-2012 era, sigh, a simpler time.

And then there was Christine and John, the couple in Waihi who we were supposed to build a shed for. When Hana and I first arrived at their large, somewhat dilapidated Edwardian house, we were greeted at the front door by the bra-less buxom woman Christine who had just finished power washing the side of her house and was soaked head to toe. This was a very interesting, and lasting, first impression. She never did put on a bra. John was an eccentric sort that specialized in fixing harmonic dampers in cars, was obsessed with model airplanes, and thoroughly licked his plate clean after every meal. Christine makes a living through EFT (emotional freedom technique. Manipulating people’s energy fields through tapping on foreheads), sex coaching, and writing erotic novels (New Zealand Best Sellers!). They both practice the blood type diet (you eat things according to what your blood type is), and according to Christine, her and John work well as a couple due to their Chinese and astrological sign alignment (They bickered about some inane thing every 5 min.). Aside from all that, they had the most eclectic collection of STUFF cluttering up every corner of their house that I've ever seen. I felt tidy in comparison! Me!

We never did build the shed. I spent the week mowing the lawn, baking bread, and learning how to knit. John used his engineering expertise to assist in the construction of the shed and infuriate Hana. So Hana spent the week trying not to kill John. Oh, and their cat was cross-eyed.

This has been another episode of Good Idea, Bad Idea....

2009-10-20T00:34:00.000-07:00

Hana and I thought it would be important to demonstrate some construction safety videos and have put together a couple of videos showing the right and wrong way to do things...

It was the best of times, it was the blurst of times...

2009-10-19T03:35:00.000-07:00

Apres the visit to the North, we headed south (Right, hellooo Captain Obvious) towards ol’ familiar Auckland for a night on the town with Brad and friends. It started out as any good night would, with Hana taking hours to put on her makeup, straightening her hair, deciding which pair of heels would suit her new Dior top and Chanel miniskirt (I know! I told her they didn’t go either, but we all know she doesn’t listen when it comes to fashion as you can see). We grabbed a couple of drinks, and then started out to meet up with the rest of the gang. The night was heading in the direction of good times full steam ahead until Hana became the unfortunate victim of a rohypnol flavoured drink. From Hana’s recollection, it didn’t taste too bad. In fact, she says it tasted like delicious draught beer, but it did manage to taint the evening. The experience did have one positive side effect; Hana developing a habit of placing a hand on top of the drinking glass when not being consumed.

A couple of days of recuperation were necessary, and were spent exploring some of the interesting sites and beaches just north of Auckland. The drive up had many delightful surprises. Now I think I can speak for most when I say that it is EVERYONE’S dream to stumble across an awesome tree house in the middle of a forest… or at least one slightly visible from a highway. If there happens to be a magical tree wizard, or enchanted open bar in it then that’s just an added bonus, but you take what you can get, and this tree house that we found did not need anything else to make it fantastic. Hana happened to see it through the trees, and when we drove up we found that there was a large fence surrounding it, preventing the great discovery that we had hoped for. Fortunately, the owner had seen us pull up and offered to show us around. This tree house, it turns out, was part of a large media event that Yellowpages had put on a year before, and they had asked this nice couple if they could use their property to construct the elaborate $3 million dollar tree house. As it was on their land, they were entitled to it once the show was over. Best deal ever. From conception to finished product, the entire process took 100 days. So cool!

The rest of the day took us to a Bee Centre (I insisted we pull over and try honey samples. So many!) and then to a beautiful beach, followed by a stop off at a marine reserve. We finished it off by cooking thanksgiving dinner for our Auckland host, which wasn’t as thanksgiving-esque as I had hoped… I had wanted to make pumpkin pie, but they don’t have pumpkin in a can here! I was devastated, though it’s probably for the best as I shouldn’t subject too many people to my baking. Also, Hana made lamb sausages instead of a turkey. But it was the thought that counts, and it actually made me miss home a little… actually just the pumpkin… man that grates my carrot!

Can you spot the Ogasawara in this photo?

Tip Top of the muffin.. or country to you!

2009-10-18T23:12:00.001-07:00

After an efficient and satisfactory departing statement from our German WWOOF hosts in Keri Keri, Hana and I ventured up about as far north as the land in New Zealand would permit to Cape Reinga, the northernmost tip of the country. This is a remarkable place for many reasons. First of all, it is the top of one of the longest beaches in the world, Ninety Mile Beach, which has achieved this grand title by having people lie about its length. The name is a misnomer as the beach is in fact 88 km, but we all know how much flashier imperial measurements sound, and how annoying conversions are. Whatever the distance, the views of a continuous stretch of sand and crashing waves for as far as the eye can see is pretty spectacular.

Secondly, Cape Reinga is where one can watch two oceans collide. The Pacific Ocean to the East and the Tasman Sea to the west confront each other in a fierce battle for the title of unstoppable force, and it appears as though they’ll be contesting for a little while longer. I’ve actually got my money on the Tasman Sea. Though he may be a little guy, he can still pack quite a punch…. That will leave quite a swell! (he he. Turbo pun!) Anyway, it is an amazing spectacle to watch, and easy to recognize how such a place could play an important role in Maori mythology as the pathway for departing spirits.

Finally, the cape had the biggest, gnarliest, raddest sand dunes I’ve ever seen! You could run, jump, toboggan, castle, laugh, cry, lost, dehydrate etc. all over them! And there were cows on the road up to them! Could there be a more magical place? If you answered yes or no, you are correct as this is a rhetorical question… the answer was eight.

The Germans say we ask too many questions...

2009-10-08T13:25:00.000-07:00

Comparing the world’s languages, whether it’s universal proverbs, or discovering words that have no meaning elsewhere, never ceases to fascinate me. Not surprisingly, travelling around and meeting people from all over the world turns out to be a great way to explore this interest. For example, in the first few days that we were staying in Auckland, the other people in the hostel were complaining about our “Free!” meal fit for a midrange size ant, or America’s next top model. One of the girls said in German that it was wrong to look in the mouth of the horse that someone has given you. A Spanish girl said that if someone presents you with a quadruped, avoidance of gum inspection is highly recommended. Or something along those lines. I told them that ours was “If someone gives you a stupidly small plate of spaghetti, you look at it with disappointment and then tell them this is the most sorry excuse of a free meal I’ve ever seen” and then throw it at them. Amazing how we have the same phrases in so many different languages isn’t it?

When we arrived at the Eco Wellness centre, Inge took us around the property to show us the gardens and all the projects that they had been working on. Naturally, I was curious about everything they were doing. Later on, when Rolf came to introduce himself, he told us that Inge said we had put a hole in her stomach. Oh man, I really don’t remember stabbing her, but I hoped there was some sort of misunderstanding that could be made more understandable. Apparently, this is a common German phrase that means we asked too many questions. Okay…. No more questions for Sarah. Not all smiles and sunshine...

Later on at dinner, we were talking to the German WWOOFers (aka the field hockey playing couple Max and Julia, and future filmmaker Morritz) about the differences in our languages. Hana had thought that Inge didn’t seem too fond of me, but the Germans assured us that she liked me fine, it was just typical cold German demeanor. This began a conversation about the differences in the ways we express ourselves. They pointed out how funny it was that we had so many words for something that is excellent. Fantastic! Great! Awesome! (I did mention earlier that the dinner looked epic, and Hana described a band as legendary which they now use all the time to describe their dessert). In German there is a sliding scale that describes things and experiences as “good”, “very good”, or “really good” (although this last one is rarely used, according to Julia only once a year, usually around Christmas). That is all.

And now the question that has been on my mind is this. In terms of language and its relation to its native speakers’ persona, which precedes which? If the German people say they are generally not very expressive in their enthusiasm, is this due to the lack of words to describe such sentiments, or is there lack of vocabulary using fantastic, excellent, etc. a result of the cultural character? Sorry if that puts holes in anyone’s stomach, but any insights would be appreciated J

Why Would Ovens Operate Forward?

2009-10-05T01:39:00.000-07:00

For those of you who are not familiar with it, WWOOF stands for ‘Which Way Opens Our Frontdoor’… no hang on, actually it’s ‘What Women Only Offer Fella…’ no wait now I’ve got it. It’s Willing Workers On Organic Farms. If you have ever heard of people “WWOOF”ing, that is what they are doing. In exchange for four hours of work each morning (gardening, building, sheep tackling, etc.), you are provided with three meals a day and accommodation. Pretty good deal if you ask me. Now of course not all places are the same. Some focus on sustainable building projects, others on raising organic vegetables or livestock, and some specialize in quackery – for example, one of the possible places to WWOOF was a dropped fruitarian. Now I have a couple of questions for these people. Question the first: how do they eat vegetables? Do they wait for them to throw themselves out of the ground in a beached whale fashion? Question the second: Did it hurt when you were dropped on your head? Oh that’s not nice… but neither are murdered apricots I suppose.

Hana and I have fortunately scored on the (somewhat) lower end of the kookfest scale. It is an eco-wellness centre in the town of Kerikeri called the OraOra resort. It is run by a German couple named Inge and Rolf, who are working as hard as they can to make the buildings on their property energy neutral, and provide Inge’s delicious kitchen with as much as possible from their permaculture garden. There are no guests at the moment as they are just starting to get everything prepared for the season which is where the WWOOFers come in. Hana and I are working alongside three German kids who are 20 yrs old and are spending the year travelling around as well. I spend my time removing large scary weeds from the garden (and the occasional edible plant… which I try to plant back in and prop up against something so they won’t notice… until I’m gone) and then they burn it. Good system. Apparently, the ash from the weeds mixed with water makes a good fertilizer for the rest of the garden. If I was lettuce I would find this really creepy, but they don’t have much say even though I’m sure they think it to be a ROOT cause of some of their problems (boooooo). Either way, I wonder how compatible producing large amounts of bonfire smoke is with their eco wellness principles. Oh well, they compensate by using paramagnetism to increase the fertility of their soil, oh and of course utilize the amazingly effective, 100% scientifically proven homeopathy. Hey I said it was at the lower end of the scale! Not totally void of kook….

Frank Lloyd What?

2009-10-05T01:22:00.000-07:00

Hana and I spent a couple of days meandering our way up the stunning west coast and stopping every now and then at hidden gems (with obvious turn-offs) like sheep world and modern art public toilets. The scenery along the way has been incredible, and satiates the visual appetite for variation and vibrancy. In fact, if the landscape were a sandwich, it would be roasted vegetables with brie cheese, pesto spread on either side of olive and sundried tomato foccacia, and every now and then a surprising bite of some wonderful unidentifiable spice. Sigh, and then you remember you have problems digesting bread. And if this sandwich were truly meant to represent the landscape there would be a lot more lamb on it. Hmmm… My vision not yours!

On our way up we drove through a fascinating beach town called Mangawhai Heads. This place had the most uniquely designed private residences I’ve ever seen, and we spent a good while driving around in awe of what looked like a swath of Frank Lloyd Wright inspired houses. They all seemed to incorporate elements of the local landscape and became extensions of the hillside. It was really interesting as it appeared as though most have also found a way to include aspects of sustainable home design such as passive solar heating and massive windows to maximize lighting. We wandered up people’s driveways until they came out of their houses so we could ask questions (well only one nice lady came out to talk to us, no one else was home… or were simply avoiding the random strangers standing outside. Weirdos).

Naturally, all this talk of eco-design, coupled with the desire to sleep in an actual bed led us to look into WWOOFing….

First timer on the road

2009-10-03T04:34:00.000-07:00

This is the first time I have ever owned a car. Up until this point in my life, I was the contented driver of one of my parents’ vehicles, averting the responsibility and cost of insurance, maintenance, and often gas, at every turn (literally!)(That bracket saying literally was unnecessary). And the added benefit of this was, of course, the ability to contribute to the cloud of smug that hangs above those who bike around discussing how no one really needs a car to get around, and how great it is to not own one of those climate changing monstrosities. Right. But there just so damned convenient!

And so Hana and I decided to get one of these “cars” that make travel life easier, and headed to the Auckland car market to do so. What we finally found (after sorting through a basket full of lemons) was a forest green vintage 1995 Subaru Legacy station wagon that called out to us from the roars and putters of the nearby VW vans. Before purchasing, I thought like a Tom Mitchell and did the following: Bargaining the price down (as I knew my father would disown me if I didn't; those garage sale lessons when I was five sure paid off), took all precautionary measures such as getting a mechanic to go over everything before buying, and got insurance and AA.

The whole process was definitely more complicated than I thought it would be, as I envisioned something similar to choosing a vegetable. Son, a car is a lot like an avocado. Squeeze it a little in the right places, shake it, make sure it’s the right colour and you’re good to go. Oh but there was so much more to it then that, and the owner of the car wants it back when were done with it in a year, which also doesn’t happen with vegetables. Either way, our lovely avocado is a beaut. She gets us from point A to point B, fits two tall people on bizarre angles in the trunk (yes we sleep in it), and makes an excellent picnic spot wherever we park her. She has also permitted some other firsts such as driving on the other side of the road! What. Watch out world! Here comes Sarah Mitchell, Southern Hemisphere automobilist extraordinaire.

Wide open Auckland....

2009-10-01T21:02:00.000-07:00

Auckland, the biggest small city I’ve ever seen. It’s like a crepe. Or a gnome with too many social obligations (get it, cause it spreads itself too thin? And it’s small? There has been no improvement in my analogies). Fortunately, my fine feathered friend Cindy arranged a meeting with a local bloke (a Blocal?) in the form of Brad who has begun to introduce us to the many wonders of this kooky country. For example, the speech…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=OLKY5NtW2BI

And pies. Not your typical large round fruit pies. These are tiny little pastry goodies filled with assorted meats and other. Hana says they’re delightful. I live gastronomically vicariously through her. Or I eat the pies in chip form, which is just as good in my view.

We then met amazing hilltop views, followed by narrow windy roads, succeeded by glorious beaches where we shall go surfing, Brad’s lessons and weather permitting.

We were also fortunate enough to meet some of Brad’s interesting friends and well wishers. Brad himself has graduated from the title of typical traveler to nomadic explorer as he has travelled for longer periods of time and more extensively then anyone I’ve met. His friends are no different. For instance, here we see Hana holding the Panasonic Toughbook, which is 6-foot drop certified for ruggedness, can be used underwater, and will set you back about $10 000. The owner of this computer would be Billy who just returned from rowing across the Indian Ocean. I plan on doing that right after I finish my first wingsuit base jump……

2009-10-01T19:47:00.001-07:00

Arrived in NZ after an unmemorable flight (sleep, get woken up for unidentifiable vegetarian mush…mmmmm mush, watch 30rock, sleep again) and went through biosecurity who inspected my boots and made me throw out carrots… oh right… I did bring food into the U.S.

I then waited many an hour for Hana to arrive, eating packets of crappy peanut butter and taking advantage of friendly New Zealanders. One nice couple said I can come stay with them if I ever come to visit their town. I hope they weren’t just trying to rid themselves of me and what I thought was a lovely conversation.

Hana and I then headed into rainy Auckland and to the hostel that had enticed us with the promise of a free dinner and drink ticket. One of these days I will learn that the equation “Free = Good!” does not always compute. Upon arrival, we went to get our dinner which was literally five spaghetti noodles and a dollop of pasta sauce… and a sprig of parsley for presentation. Are you kidding me? Oh I could upgrade for another $4 dollars. So naturally I did not out of principle. I showed them.

Also, curse the Coordinated Universal Time system. It stole Tuesday, Sept. 22 from me. That could have been the day that I won the lottery! Or unlocked the secrets of time travel! Or solved the n-body problem in classical mechanics! Or ate a banana off a tree! But no, my poor travel decision making caused me to age far faster then was desired. Zut.

Say goodbye to Tuesday

2009-10-01T00:24:00.001-07:00

So as per usual, I got hassled at security and customs at the airport. One of these days, I will hack my way into the international airport security system and delete whatever scathing report they have on gingers, Mitchells… or just me. The security guard was firm yet gentle, but the customs official thought I looked the type to be smuggling in some contaminated food specimens into the U.S. “Where are you going?” New Zealand. “What are you doing there?” Travelling around. “Know anyone there?” Yes I’ll be visiting a couple of friends. “A friend eh? And you say you don’t have any food on you?” noooo…. “Well don’t you think that’s a little strange? That your friend wouldn’t ask you to bring anything for you?” I guess I’m a thoughtless jerk and didn’t ask. “You know, they don’t have ketchup down there. I just think it’s weird that she didn’t ask for ketchup…” Can I go now?

(They do have it. moron.)

In most people’s views, a seven hour layover anywhere, no matter how exciting the final destination, is not the desired travel experience. Not so when you have a friend in LA who is more than willing to pick you up and drive you out to Venice Beach for the afternoon, which I just so happen to have. Done. Wildlife excursion included. We went for a walk along the beach and came to the world’s largest pleasure craft marina (glad to check that one off the bucketlist) and along one of the piers were several large tripeds. See!

Naturally we broke into the area they were docked, well I climbed the fence and opened the gate for Andrea and snuck up close. This close! I wanted to ride one. Andrea said that was a bad idea. Being the older, wiser one of the two of us I heeded the advice. Either way it was cool to see seals on my afternoon and a wonderful way to spend an afternoon with a great friend who I do not see as often as I wished…..