While soldiers and red shirt protesters regularly clash in the streets, I haven't actually experienced any of the chaos personally. I had foolishly thought that I could go to some of the demonstrations and get some pictures, but with people dying - including a journalist in the last bout of fighting, I've decided that it would probably be wiser to just keep inside the gated compound of the school where I am staying, leaving the heroics to people who are getting paid for them. As long as I am aware of which parts of the city are safe and give minimal attention to my wardrobe (no red shirts), I feel that there is little danger here in Bangkok. The protesters are upset with the current government, so farang (foreigners) are not targets.
I haven't done much sightseeing yet, and probably will leave touring Bangkok until the end of my time in Southeast Asia, but it is exactly what I expected. Busy streets, with lines more of a suggestion of where vehicles would drive in a perfect world; families riding on one scooter dipping in and out of traffic, and a potpourri of smells created by the myriad street vendors, mangy stray dogs and garbage. I am looking forward to getting into the country and seeing the rural side of Thailand as well, but I don't mind the busy city streets either, though the 100% humidity and near-forty degree heat do take a toll on me.
Last night, I went out with Ro and Chris to a nearby shopping centre to see a movie, but when we got there a little before nine in the evening, it seemed there were people coming out but no one going in. We asked one of the doormen what was happening, but we weren't able to communicate with him - he simply smiled and nodded at all of our queries - until a passerby acted as an interpreter. The red shirt threat had apparently caused the shopping centre to shorten their hours, so we came home, feeling a bit annoyed at the inconvenience. In the morning, after hearing about the more than fifty deaths and nearly one thousand injured (and I hear that these numbers are usually gross underestimates, and that the rule of thumb is to double the official numbers) I felt a bit guilty for being even slightly bothered the night before. Hopefully missing a movie is the worst thing I will suffer because of the rioting in the streets here in Bangkok.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Christchurch to Bangkok
Just to forewarn readers - this post ended up being a fairly dry itinerary recitation. Read the most recent post if you want to get a feel for the mayhem and death in the streets. Not a first-hand experience, but there is mayhem and death. Mom, I'm being safe.
Waking up in Christchurch just after five in the morning, I was greeted by something I hadn't seen in all of my traveling so far - frost! Since our van has trouble starting most mornings, I was a little bit anxious that I wouldn't be able to get to the airport in time. We had parked just down the road from the terminal though, and I pulled up to the drop-off point with plenty of time to spare. Jordache stayed huddled in his sleeping bag in the back of the van until we pulled up to the airport and then pulled himself out, gave me a hug, and announced his plan to drive back to last night's parking spot and get some more sleep.
I flew into Wellington, getting in just before eight, grabbed the shuttle into the city and then found my way by foot to the Chinese Embassy. I had phoned twice to confirm that my passport had arrived from the Russian Embassy where I had arranged to have it sent to the Chinese Embassy, yet when the receptionist couldn't find it after searching for a while I was starting to get nervous. It was there though, and I feel a lot more comfortable having it in my possession - it is really the only thing that I have that I can't afford to lose.
My flight left the next morning, but as I had to check in at four in the morning, I didn't see the point in getting a hostel so I headed back out to the airport in the afternoon. I was excited to find that the airport had showers in the bathroom, so I cleaned myself up and then scouted the airport for a good place to roll out my sleeping bag later in the evening. I found a cushioned bench opposite the airport bar that I claimed, and then I settled in to watch the bar television. As the staff where cleaning up and preparing to leave, one of them noticed that I was still there, obviously with no intentions of leaving. He kindly gave me the television's remote control and told me to shut it off whenever I went to bed.
After finally turning in after enjoying my fill of "Criminal Minds" and the NZ news, I enjoyed some sleep before getting up in time to check in two hours before my flight. There had been a delay however, but they more than made it up to me by providing me with a fifteen dollar breakfast voucher. Since my lay-over in Sydney was an all-day affair, I wasn't in a hurry and enjoyed my free breakfast and then the complimentary breakfast on the flight to Sydney. I hung out all day in the Sydney airport, getting on the plane after four and then flying just under ten hours to arrive in Bangkok at 11:00 PM local time. After catching a taxi, I got into Nonthaburi, a city just outside of Bangkok. Given that it is inside the limits of Greater Bangkok, it is functionally a suburb of Bangkok. Feeling rather jet-lagged given that I had been up for over twenty-four hours, I clumsily dialed Roshali and Chris' number and Ro and her mom, along with one-month old Cadence came to pick me up.
I know Ro and Chris from my time at King's when we were students, and they have been living here in Thailand and teaching English since 2006. The Mclatcher family is growing in number, as Jaya, their oldest daughter, is now a very busy 1 1/2 years old, and their newest addition, Cady, is just four weeks old. As you can guess, a busy household! They have graciously invited me to stay here for as long as I want, and their home will likely be my home base for trips through the rest of Southeast Asia.
Waking up in Christchurch just after five in the morning, I was greeted by something I hadn't seen in all of my traveling so far - frost! Since our van has trouble starting most mornings, I was a little bit anxious that I wouldn't be able to get to the airport in time. We had parked just down the road from the terminal though, and I pulled up to the drop-off point with plenty of time to spare. Jordache stayed huddled in his sleeping bag in the back of the van until we pulled up to the airport and then pulled himself out, gave me a hug, and announced his plan to drive back to last night's parking spot and get some more sleep.
I flew into Wellington, getting in just before eight, grabbed the shuttle into the city and then found my way by foot to the Chinese Embassy. I had phoned twice to confirm that my passport had arrived from the Russian Embassy where I had arranged to have it sent to the Chinese Embassy, yet when the receptionist couldn't find it after searching for a while I was starting to get nervous. It was there though, and I feel a lot more comfortable having it in my possession - it is really the only thing that I have that I can't afford to lose.
My flight left the next morning, but as I had to check in at four in the morning, I didn't see the point in getting a hostel so I headed back out to the airport in the afternoon. I was excited to find that the airport had showers in the bathroom, so I cleaned myself up and then scouted the airport for a good place to roll out my sleeping bag later in the evening. I found a cushioned bench opposite the airport bar that I claimed, and then I settled in to watch the bar television. As the staff where cleaning up and preparing to leave, one of them noticed that I was still there, obviously with no intentions of leaving. He kindly gave me the television's remote control and told me to shut it off whenever I went to bed.
After finally turning in after enjoying my fill of "Criminal Minds" and the NZ news, I enjoyed some sleep before getting up in time to check in two hours before my flight. There had been a delay however, but they more than made it up to me by providing me with a fifteen dollar breakfast voucher. Since my lay-over in Sydney was an all-day affair, I wasn't in a hurry and enjoyed my free breakfast and then the complimentary breakfast on the flight to Sydney. I hung out all day in the Sydney airport, getting on the plane after four and then flying just under ten hours to arrive in Bangkok at 11:00 PM local time. After catching a taxi, I got into Nonthaburi, a city just outside of Bangkok. Given that it is inside the limits of Greater Bangkok, it is functionally a suburb of Bangkok. Feeling rather jet-lagged given that I had been up for over twenty-four hours, I clumsily dialed Roshali and Chris' number and Ro and her mom, along with one-month old Cadence came to pick me up.
I know Ro and Chris from my time at King's when we were students, and they have been living here in Thailand and teaching English since 2006. The Mclatcher family is growing in number, as Jaya, their oldest daughter, is now a very busy 1 1/2 years old, and their newest addition, Cady, is just four weeks old. As you can guess, a busy household! They have graciously invited me to stay here for as long as I want, and their home will likely be my home base for trips through the rest of Southeast Asia.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Last Stop: Christchurch
After living on the beach for three nights in Dunedin, we got our van into the shop as the muffler had pretty much disintegrated. The weld that was holding it together broke on the rough gravel roads between Bluff and Dunedin, and we learned after the diagnosis that all of the heavy driving had apparently broken the second stage as well. So, a $500 fix, and with our house on the hydraulic lift six feet off the ground we didn't have a place to sleep that night as the mechanics weren't too keen for us to use it as a tree-house. Thankfully, the O'Flynns, a family that had lived next door to us growing up in Fort McMurray and now in Dunedin, offered us a place to stay as long as we needed. It was great to have a warm, dry place to sleep and warm showers every day, but what was even better was to catch up with the O'Flynns who we hadn't seen in over ten years. We spent most nights talking until late at night/early in the morning, trading stories and reminiscing about Fort McMurray. It was amazing how quickly we were brought up to speed on what they have been doing over the last decade and when we finally left after four nights with them it was as if it had less than a year since they had moved to NZ, not over ten times that long. Except for the fact that the youngest ones had grown up to have their own unmistakable personalities since we had last seen them as toddlers!
Driving northward, our van was purring as we made our way to Mount Cook. The exhaust system had obviously had some cracks in it when we had gotten it welded the first time, and it was a great feeling to be in a quiet cab for once. As we drove out to Mt. Cook we were wondering if we would even be able to sight the peak, as I had heard stories about people making as many as three trips out to see it and having cloud cover obscure Mt. Cook every time. We had clear skies and a great view, and we camped that night just off the road. Nursing the last bit of gas in the tank, we rolled into Lake Taupo in the morning and got into Christchurch later that day. We had time to hit the surf, and I can now safe with no fear of embarrassment that I can actually surf. Consistently standing on each decent wave, the only thing left to get a hang of is reading the ocean, as the current carried us a far way down the beach necessitating a long walk back to the van. Still, shredding or green facing - surfing parallel with the wave as it breaks - has yet to happen, and I may just have to save working on that until Tofino.
Jordache and I took in a Easter Sunday service today, but by the time the new pastor was dedicated and congratulations given to the outgoing pastor, they decided that time had run out for a sermon. An interesting church, but the potluck lunch was good nonetheless. The outgoing pastor shook my hand as I stood beside him picking up some finger sandwiches and said "Good to see you again!" He apparently mistook me for someone else, or it's his go-to line. I must not have looked like someone who lived in their van though, so that's good.
This is my last stop in NZ as on the 8th I fly into Wellington to pick up my passport and from there I start my journey through Asia, flying into Bangkok on the 9th. There has been little culture shock so far what with traveling in English-speaking countries, so I may be in some senses easing into the whole traveling thing. I'm sure Thailand will be quite a different experience from NZ an Australia though, especially since I will begin the solo portion of my trip. Jordache is staying in NZ for a few more days after I leave, basically just waiting on selling our van before he either heads home to Canada or takes a bit of a detour through Fiji and/or the Cook Islands.
Alright, I will probably be putting up my next post from Thailand - until then, enjoy spring in Canada - or the weather in whatever part of the world you find yourself in.
Driving northward, our van was purring as we made our way to Mount Cook. The exhaust system had obviously had some cracks in it when we had gotten it welded the first time, and it was a great feeling to be in a quiet cab for once. As we drove out to Mt. Cook we were wondering if we would even be able to sight the peak, as I had heard stories about people making as many as three trips out to see it and having cloud cover obscure Mt. Cook every time. We had clear skies and a great view, and we camped that night just off the road. Nursing the last bit of gas in the tank, we rolled into Lake Taupo in the morning and got into Christchurch later that day. We had time to hit the surf, and I can now safe with no fear of embarrassment that I can actually surf. Consistently standing on each decent wave, the only thing left to get a hang of is reading the ocean, as the current carried us a far way down the beach necessitating a long walk back to the van. Still, shredding or green facing - surfing parallel with the wave as it breaks - has yet to happen, and I may just have to save working on that until Tofino.
Jordache and I took in a Easter Sunday service today, but by the time the new pastor was dedicated and congratulations given to the outgoing pastor, they decided that time had run out for a sermon. An interesting church, but the potluck lunch was good nonetheless. The outgoing pastor shook my hand as I stood beside him picking up some finger sandwiches and said "Good to see you again!" He apparently mistook me for someone else, or it's his go-to line. I must not have looked like someone who lived in their van though, so that's good.
This is my last stop in NZ as on the 8th I fly into Wellington to pick up my passport and from there I start my journey through Asia, flying into Bangkok on the 9th. There has been little culture shock so far what with traveling in English-speaking countries, so I may be in some senses easing into the whole traveling thing. I'm sure Thailand will be quite a different experience from NZ an Australia though, especially since I will begin the solo portion of my trip. Jordache is staying in NZ for a few more days after I leave, basically just waiting on selling our van before he either heads home to Canada or takes a bit of a detour through Fiji and/or the Cook Islands.
Alright, I will probably be putting up my next post from Thailand - until then, enjoy spring in Canada - or the weather in whatever part of the world you find yourself in.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Detours
After the Nevis bungee, Jordache and I were scheduled for the Canyon Swing on the following day in Queenstown. Swinging from steel ropes attached to either side of a canyon, the ride starts with a 60 meter free-fall that accelerates you to 150 km/hr and then flings you out through a 200 meter arc. While it may sound as frightening as the bungee (or more so) it didn't have quite the same psychological effects on me. Jordache handled it even more easily than the bungee, smiling widely as he pushed off the platform backwards for his first swing. Unlike the bungee, where jumpers need to dive out from the platform, the swing allows all sorts of different jumps. Jordache did two swings while I did three, as neither of us could pass up the opportunity for following swings for only twenty bucks. The first swings we each did were simply backwards jumps, while the second was what is called a "cutaway." Suspended upside, the operators swing you out over the canyon where you look straight down at the cliff face before they pull the bolt that sends you falling head-first. My last jump was a gainer, a back-flip while moving forwards, and each time the adrenalin rush was as strong as the previous jump.
After the Canyon Swing we hit the road, traveling out toward Milford Sound in Fiordland. The only problem was that we didn't check to see if the wash-out that had closed the road earlier in the week had been cleared up yet. And it hadn't. We parked in a gravel parking lot at the "Closed Road" sign, only a scant 60 kms from our destination. We phoned the road information line that evening, and they said that we should check back in the morning in case things might have changed overnight. We did, and they hadn't. Backtracking south, we decided that we might as well go toward Stewart Island which was next on our itinerary. We got into Bluff on the coast, the town the ferry departs from, and booked our tickets for the following day.
Jordache had high hopes that Stewart Island would be where he would finally set his eyes on a kiwi bird, and while we kept our eyes peeled throughout the day and even went on a guided bird walk, the nocturnal flightless bird eluded us. We should given more thought to fact that it was a nocturnal bird. We arrived on the island mid-morning after the quick one-hour ferry ride and took the first hour or so to get over the trip. The waves were quite choppy and left both me and Jordache feeling slightly seasick. I had ridden the first bit of the trip at the front of the boat, standing while holding on tightly to the hand rails, feeling the ferry alternately drop from underneath me and push me into the air and felt great. It was only after I staggered back to my seat and observed a number of other passengers depositing their breakfasts into little paper bags that I began to feel sick myself. The ride back was much of the same, so Jordache and I spent most our time outside on deck in the fresh air.
After getting back to mainland, we spent the night in the same spot we had the night before, that being the local cemetery, and then headed out in the morning. A farmer observed us pulling out of the parking lot in the morning and just shook his head at us. Other than him, I don't thing we disturbed anyone else with our choice of parking spot. We headed into Invercargill where we used the internet and the public bathrooms and before we left, Jordache spotted a clothing sale and went into check it out. After a long talk with Peter, the owner of the store, Jordache and I each got an item off the sales rack, and Peter gave us a complimentary bottle of wine. By far the best perk I have ever gotten with a purchase.
We drove throught the Catlins along the south-east coast of the South Island towards Dunedin, stopping at the well-known Porpoise Bay. Hector Dolphins regulary frequent the bay, swimming alongside humans, and I went for a swim hoping some would come to see me. None did unfortunately, though while I was rinsing off back on shore, Jordache watched a sea lion surf in on a wave and chase the kids off the beach. When I got there it was sunning itself on the beach, oblivious to us tourists leaning on the fence taking pictures. We left the sea lion to itself, aiming to get into Dunedin by dark, and after making ourselves supper along the way, we realized that our muffler had come undone again. Ears ringing, we pulled into Dundedin around eight and quickly found a place to park for the night. Given the noise of the muffler, it is difficult to move quietly.
Surfing this morning was great, even if it was quite cold, and what was even better was that we found some beach showers. We are entirely self-sufficent except for a way to wash ourselves, so we may hang around here for a while and just enjoy being clean for a few days. Then, off to Mount Cook and Christchurch, unless there is another wash-out.
After the Canyon Swing we hit the road, traveling out toward Milford Sound in Fiordland. The only problem was that we didn't check to see if the wash-out that had closed the road earlier in the week had been cleared up yet. And it hadn't. We parked in a gravel parking lot at the "Closed Road" sign, only a scant 60 kms from our destination. We phoned the road information line that evening, and they said that we should check back in the morning in case things might have changed overnight. We did, and they hadn't. Backtracking south, we decided that we might as well go toward Stewart Island which was next on our itinerary. We got into Bluff on the coast, the town the ferry departs from, and booked our tickets for the following day.
Jordache had high hopes that Stewart Island would be where he would finally set his eyes on a kiwi bird, and while we kept our eyes peeled throughout the day and even went on a guided bird walk, the nocturnal flightless bird eluded us. We should given more thought to fact that it was a nocturnal bird. We arrived on the island mid-morning after the quick one-hour ferry ride and took the first hour or so to get over the trip. The waves were quite choppy and left both me and Jordache feeling slightly seasick. I had ridden the first bit of the trip at the front of the boat, standing while holding on tightly to the hand rails, feeling the ferry alternately drop from underneath me and push me into the air and felt great. It was only after I staggered back to my seat and observed a number of other passengers depositing their breakfasts into little paper bags that I began to feel sick myself. The ride back was much of the same, so Jordache and I spent most our time outside on deck in the fresh air.
After getting back to mainland, we spent the night in the same spot we had the night before, that being the local cemetery, and then headed out in the morning. A farmer observed us pulling out of the parking lot in the morning and just shook his head at us. Other than him, I don't thing we disturbed anyone else with our choice of parking spot. We headed into Invercargill where we used the internet and the public bathrooms and before we left, Jordache spotted a clothing sale and went into check it out. After a long talk with Peter, the owner of the store, Jordache and I each got an item off the sales rack, and Peter gave us a complimentary bottle of wine. By far the best perk I have ever gotten with a purchase.
We drove throught the Catlins along the south-east coast of the South Island towards Dunedin, stopping at the well-known Porpoise Bay. Hector Dolphins regulary frequent the bay, swimming alongside humans, and I went for a swim hoping some would come to see me. None did unfortunately, though while I was rinsing off back on shore, Jordache watched a sea lion surf in on a wave and chase the kids off the beach. When I got there it was sunning itself on the beach, oblivious to us tourists leaning on the fence taking pictures. We left the sea lion to itself, aiming to get into Dunedin by dark, and after making ourselves supper along the way, we realized that our muffler had come undone again. Ears ringing, we pulled into Dundedin around eight and quickly found a place to park for the night. Given the noise of the muffler, it is difficult to move quietly.
Surfing this morning was great, even if it was quite cold, and what was even better was that we found some beach showers. We are entirely self-sufficent except for a way to wash ourselves, so we may hang around here for a while and just enjoy being clean for a few days. Then, off to Mount Cook and Christchurch, unless there is another wash-out.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Westcoast
Cape Foulwind actually has nothing to do with the seal colony found there but was in fact named by Captain Cook after his ship met with day after day of strong seas in the 1800s. Live and learn. We got to the Cape in the late afternoon and made the walk up the bluff where we could look down on the seals lolling on the rocks below. There were about twenty or so full grown seals and about a dozen seal pups that we could see. The pups were gamboling after one another, slinking awkwardly from rock to rock as the adults, assumedly the mothers, basked in the sun. After checking out the seals we walked back down to the beach and surfed for about an hour and then headed down the coast. The rip tide was the strongest we had experienced so far, and we got into the water at the south end of the beach and in thirty minutes we had been pushed about 250 meters north - a good reminder to pay attention to what the water is doing.
We left Cape Foulwind and headed south, parking outside of Barrytown in the dark. Along the drive, I added another possum to my tally - unintentionally if you are wondering - bringing my total to two. With possum skins fetching thirty dollars in the tourist stores, it might actually pay to start aiming for them along the side of the road. I'm kidding of course. Really. Barrytown is a tiny little hamlet, and in the morning we slipped into the hostel in town to brush our teeth and then headed on down the road.
Arriving at the town of Franz Josef Glacier, we booked a half-day hike for the following day and then drove down a track near the river to find a place to park the van. We woke in the morning to mist rising from the water and low-lying cloud wrapped around the mountains - a magical view, and all the more enjoyable for having spent the night cocooned in our warm van as rain pelted down. Looking carefully, we could just make out the Franz Josef Glacier up the valley as we headed back into town for the 9:15 AM departure of our hiking tour. We spent the morning and a few hours of the afternoon walking through the rain to, on or from the glacier, though occasionally the sun would break through, making a great view spectacular.
After getting back into town, we again headed south, stopping briefly at the Fox Glacier where we ran to the lookout point in the rain, snapped a picture, and then ran back to the relative dry of the van. We kept on driving, getting into Queenstown at night. After driving around in the city for forty-five minutes looking for a place to park and being foiled by a night watchman in our attempt to sneak into a campsite bathroom, we found a promising-looking parking lot where we bedded down for the night.
Today we headed out to the Nevis Bungy, the biggest jump in NZ at 134 meters, where I had a bad case of the shakes before I threw myself into thin air. You rest the soles of your feet on the thighs of the attendant as she attaches the straps above your ankles, and I had what she termed "a little bit of Elvis going on." My legs were shaking so strongly that I was in turn causing her body to shake. Hobbling to the edge of the platform, I looked down as my toes peeked over the edge, and the ground seemed much further away than it should have been. As the countdown reached "ONE!" I turned off my brain and leapt away from the platform. After the tension of the line pulled me up for the first time, I relaxed and enjoyed the sensation and the fantastic view of the canyon, albeit upside down.
We left Cape Foulwind and headed south, parking outside of Barrytown in the dark. Along the drive, I added another possum to my tally - unintentionally if you are wondering - bringing my total to two. With possum skins fetching thirty dollars in the tourist stores, it might actually pay to start aiming for them along the side of the road. I'm kidding of course. Really. Barrytown is a tiny little hamlet, and in the morning we slipped into the hostel in town to brush our teeth and then headed on down the road.
Arriving at the town of Franz Josef Glacier, we booked a half-day hike for the following day and then drove down a track near the river to find a place to park the van. We woke in the morning to mist rising from the water and low-lying cloud wrapped around the mountains - a magical view, and all the more enjoyable for having spent the night cocooned in our warm van as rain pelted down. Looking carefully, we could just make out the Franz Josef Glacier up the valley as we headed back into town for the 9:15 AM departure of our hiking tour. We spent the morning and a few hours of the afternoon walking through the rain to, on or from the glacier, though occasionally the sun would break through, making a great view spectacular.
After getting back into town, we again headed south, stopping briefly at the Fox Glacier where we ran to the lookout point in the rain, snapped a picture, and then ran back to the relative dry of the van. We kept on driving, getting into Queenstown at night. After driving around in the city for forty-five minutes looking for a place to park and being foiled by a night watchman in our attempt to sneak into a campsite bathroom, we found a promising-looking parking lot where we bedded down for the night.
Today we headed out to the Nevis Bungy, the biggest jump in NZ at 134 meters, where I had a bad case of the shakes before I threw myself into thin air. You rest the soles of your feet on the thighs of the attendant as she attaches the straps above your ankles, and I had what she termed "a little bit of Elvis going on." My legs were shaking so strongly that I was in turn causing her body to shake. Hobbling to the edge of the platform, I looked down as my toes peeked over the edge, and the ground seemed much further away than it should have been. As the countdown reached "ONE!" I turned off my brain and leapt away from the platform. After the tension of the line pulled me up for the first time, I relaxed and enjoyed the sensation and the fantastic view of the canyon, albeit upside down.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
South Island
Catching the ferry on Tuesday from Wellington, we arrived in Picton on the South Island around nine in the evening. The plan was to catch the ferry on Monday, but I had some issues with collecting my Russian and Chinese visas. I needed a longer NZ visa before I could get my Russian Visa, and after I got that taken care of they had closed their consulate. I wouldn't mind the 1:00 PM close if I worked there, but it didn't give me much time to run down to Immigration and get a six-month NZ visa. The next day I was prepared, or so I thought, but was told that I needed a full receipt for my lodgings in Russia. I ran down to the nearest internet cafe, and luckily Jared was online - he phoned my travel agent in Edmonton for me, and she sent the information I needed five minutes later. I got back to the Russian Embassy with twenty minutes to spare and dropped off the necessary documents and my passport. When they are finished processing it they'll send it on to the Chinese Embassy in Wellington where I will have to pick it up on my way out of the country. Oh bureaucracy.
After getting off the ferry in the dark, we found a spot to sleep in a gravel parking lot in Picton and then headed west to Abel Tasman National Park. We pulled into the little town of Marahau in the evening and planned the next day for our hike. The Tasman Trail is 52 kms long and can be done in 3-5 days, but we don't have a tent - or the interest in spending a bunch of nights sleeping in the woods. There is a fee for every night you spend in the park as well, so we decided the best way to do it would be to do an all-day out-and-back hike.
This didn't seem like such a good idea at 6 AM as we pulled ourselves out of the van the next day, but we had managed to find a mattress at a second-hand store the day before which made the sleep significantly more restful. Getting on the trail just as the sun was rising, we headed out with backpacks full of food and water with the plan to cover as much distance as possible. What we had not taken into account that it has been nearly two months without wearing shoes, and about mid-morning our feet reminded us. Jordache ended up finishing the day with blisters all over his feet, none of them smaller than a thumb nail, while I was lucky to only limp through a pulled groin muscle I had injured surfing a few days ago. We did still manage to cover over thirty kilometers though, getting back to the trail head around six in the evening. The highlight for me was Cleopatra's Pool where I went for a swim in the cold water and gave the natural rock water slide a try.
Getting back into Marahau, we parked our van down the street from a campground and slipped in the front gate with our towels and soap for a quick shower. Jordache had tried the same thing the night before but had found out that the showers were coin-operated, so we were prepared this time with some coins. A legitimate camper was using the bathroom at the same time and was surprised to see that he needed to go and get a dollar to use the shower. He turned to Jordache and said "What? You have to pay for showers here? I already paid for a campsite!" Jordache nodded his head in sympathy and said "Yeah, I know what you mean man." Our dirt camping skills are becoming more and more advanced.
The hike was yesterday, though by the end of the day it could only have been termed a shuffle, and we are now on our way to see the seal colony at Cape Foulwind (Hopefully the name isn't too apt). Our plan is make a counter-clockwise circle of the South Island and then end in Christchurch, though the plan is more of a rough sketch than a set itinerary.
After getting off the ferry in the dark, we found a spot to sleep in a gravel parking lot in Picton and then headed west to Abel Tasman National Park. We pulled into the little town of Marahau in the evening and planned the next day for our hike. The Tasman Trail is 52 kms long and can be done in 3-5 days, but we don't have a tent - or the interest in spending a bunch of nights sleeping in the woods. There is a fee for every night you spend in the park as well, so we decided the best way to do it would be to do an all-day out-and-back hike.
This didn't seem like such a good idea at 6 AM as we pulled ourselves out of the van the next day, but we had managed to find a mattress at a second-hand store the day before which made the sleep significantly more restful. Getting on the trail just as the sun was rising, we headed out with backpacks full of food and water with the plan to cover as much distance as possible. What we had not taken into account that it has been nearly two months without wearing shoes, and about mid-morning our feet reminded us. Jordache ended up finishing the day with blisters all over his feet, none of them smaller than a thumb nail, while I was lucky to only limp through a pulled groin muscle I had injured surfing a few days ago. We did still manage to cover over thirty kilometers though, getting back to the trail head around six in the evening. The highlight for me was Cleopatra's Pool where I went for a swim in the cold water and gave the natural rock water slide a try.
Getting back into Marahau, we parked our van down the street from a campground and slipped in the front gate with our towels and soap for a quick shower. Jordache had tried the same thing the night before but had found out that the showers were coin-operated, so we were prepared this time with some coins. A legitimate camper was using the bathroom at the same time and was surprised to see that he needed to go and get a dollar to use the shower. He turned to Jordache and said "What? You have to pay for showers here? I already paid for a campsite!" Jordache nodded his head in sympathy and said "Yeah, I know what you mean man." Our dirt camping skills are becoming more and more advanced.
The hike was yesterday, though by the end of the day it could only have been termed a shuffle, and we are now on our way to see the seal colony at Cape Foulwind (Hopefully the name isn't too apt). Our plan is make a counter-clockwise circle of the South Island and then end in Christchurch, though the plan is more of a rough sketch than a set itinerary.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Surfing, Sheep, Southward
Waking up in Raglan to a rapping on the side of the van, we were accosted early in the morning by what we later thought was a By-law officer. At the time we were too sleepy to ask exactly what position he held. He told us that we were on private property and that the farmer had complained and, while he wouldn't ticket us, we would have to leave immediately. We had parked in a cul-de-sac down a street that didn't have any houses on it, but apparently a farmer was developing a section of his land - and "had his guts full" with tourists parking on his property. Yawning, we made the short drive down to the beach and grabbed our boards for our second attempt at surfing in NZ. Unsurprisingly, the water was just as cold as it has been at Piha and we walked out of the surf after just an hour, seriously considering wetsuits. We actually picked some wetsuits up later in the day - last year's models, so that along with the strength of the Canadian dollar made them a pretty good deal. So excited after buying the suits, we went right back into the water, but a storm was rolling in and the waves weren't as good as they had been in the morning. Still, the suits worked perfectly, though Jordache complained he was too warm. Better than hypothermia I always say.
In the afternoon we headed out of Raglan and got into Rotorua where we parked just outside the city. The next day we got up and headed to the Zorb hill. A Zorb, for those of you have better things to do then waste time on YouTube, is a large clear ball, approximately twelve feet high with another smaller ball suspended by bands inside the first sphere. Basically a human-sized hamster ball. Climbing through the side and into the centre sphere, one to three riders attempt to maintain their balance as the Zorb rolls down a hill. You can elect for an unsecured ride with about 5 gallons of water to make sure you don't stick to the sides, or you can have yourself strapped in securely and maintain one position - basically one somersault after another. Jordache and I each took a solo ride in the unsecured Zorb, careening down a zig-zag track, running inside the Zorb, falling, and then diving forward to lend the Zorb more momentum. As one onlooker said, it is definitely not a spectator sport, but quite fun for the rider. I asked one of the operators how much a Zorb cost, with visions of putting a track together in Canada, but when he said it cost about 13,000 bucks I decided it just might not be worth it.
After zorbing Jordache and I went over to the luge track just down the road, taking a gondola up the mountain just outside of Rotorua and then racing each other down on concrete tracks. The track is four carts wide at some points, and by our last ride we were speeding down the runs, cutting in and around the slower learners as we bumped and cut one another off. The three-wheeled carts probably aren't made for it, but on many corners we were up on two wheels, leaning way over to counter-balance ourselves, and once I over-balanced, rubbing my ankle raw and rocking back upright as Jordache sped by laughing his head off.
Just outside of Rotorua is a camp site called Waikite Springs, and along with your camp rights comes full access to the natural hot springs. We soaked there last night, and then climbed into our van to sleep. The nights are significantly colder here in NZ, and my +3 sleeping bag isn't really doing the job. Even Jordache in his -7 bag is finding it uncomfortably cold at nights. I had another poor night's sleep and woke up this morning at 5:30. After almost an hour of attempting to convince myself that I was sleepy enough to fall back asleep, I unfolded myself out of the van and went into the pools. There are a number of them, each with a different temperature, and I made my way to the warmest one, about 42 C, where I quickly warmed up and waited for Jordache to wake up.
After having breakfast, we headed back into Rotorua for the world-famous Agrodome sheep show where we made it just in time to catch a shearing demonstration. The presentation was well-polished, as expected when there are three shows a day seven days a week, and it was very well worth it. We stayed around afterwards, looking at the filthy expensive merchandise and then leaning on a fence outside as a sheepherder (staff and all) worked a trio of sheep through a series of gates and into a pen with his dog. An interesting thing to us that we learned at the Agrodome is that New Zealanders have begun incorporating possum hair with wool to create a new blend of natural fabric - a good use for the non-native possums as there are over 80 million of them in the country and each of them a much-hated pest. Their carcasses litter the roads, and I've even squished one myself. They are nocturnal, and in some night driving last week one froze in front of me with its saucer-wide eyes staring up in shock as the grille of the van bore down on it. Just doing my bit to get rid of those invasive species again.
Writing this in Taupo now, we are getting back on the road and aiming to get into Wellington tonight. I have some visa applications I need processed for countries coming up, and then we are catching the ferry to the south island where we will have approximately another three weeks.
In the afternoon we headed out of Raglan and got into Rotorua where we parked just outside the city. The next day we got up and headed to the Zorb hill. A Zorb, for those of you have better things to do then waste time on YouTube, is a large clear ball, approximately twelve feet high with another smaller ball suspended by bands inside the first sphere. Basically a human-sized hamster ball. Climbing through the side and into the centre sphere, one to three riders attempt to maintain their balance as the Zorb rolls down a hill. You can elect for an unsecured ride with about 5 gallons of water to make sure you don't stick to the sides, or you can have yourself strapped in securely and maintain one position - basically one somersault after another. Jordache and I each took a solo ride in the unsecured Zorb, careening down a zig-zag track, running inside the Zorb, falling, and then diving forward to lend the Zorb more momentum. As one onlooker said, it is definitely not a spectator sport, but quite fun for the rider. I asked one of the operators how much a Zorb cost, with visions of putting a track together in Canada, but when he said it cost about 13,000 bucks I decided it just might not be worth it.
After zorbing Jordache and I went over to the luge track just down the road, taking a gondola up the mountain just outside of Rotorua and then racing each other down on concrete tracks. The track is four carts wide at some points, and by our last ride we were speeding down the runs, cutting in and around the slower learners as we bumped and cut one another off. The three-wheeled carts probably aren't made for it, but on many corners we were up on two wheels, leaning way over to counter-balance ourselves, and once I over-balanced, rubbing my ankle raw and rocking back upright as Jordache sped by laughing his head off.
Just outside of Rotorua is a camp site called Waikite Springs, and along with your camp rights comes full access to the natural hot springs. We soaked there last night, and then climbed into our van to sleep. The nights are significantly colder here in NZ, and my +3 sleeping bag isn't really doing the job. Even Jordache in his -7 bag is finding it uncomfortably cold at nights. I had another poor night's sleep and woke up this morning at 5:30. After almost an hour of attempting to convince myself that I was sleepy enough to fall back asleep, I unfolded myself out of the van and went into the pools. There are a number of them, each with a different temperature, and I made my way to the warmest one, about 42 C, where I quickly warmed up and waited for Jordache to wake up.
After having breakfast, we headed back into Rotorua for the world-famous Agrodome sheep show where we made it just in time to catch a shearing demonstration. The presentation was well-polished, as expected when there are three shows a day seven days a week, and it was very well worth it. We stayed around afterwards, looking at the filthy expensive merchandise and then leaning on a fence outside as a sheepherder (staff and all) worked a trio of sheep through a series of gates and into a pen with his dog. An interesting thing to us that we learned at the Agrodome is that New Zealanders have begun incorporating possum hair with wool to create a new blend of natural fabric - a good use for the non-native possums as there are over 80 million of them in the country and each of them a much-hated pest. Their carcasses litter the roads, and I've even squished one myself. They are nocturnal, and in some night driving last week one froze in front of me with its saucer-wide eyes staring up in shock as the grille of the van bore down on it. Just doing my bit to get rid of those invasive species again.
Writing this in Taupo now, we are getting back on the road and aiming to get into Wellington tonight. I have some visa applications I need processed for countries coming up, and then we are catching the ferry to the south island where we will have approximately another three weeks.
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