London - An Aside

More stories from New Zealand (and now, Italy!) to come, but for now, a rant.

I just got off the London Tube feeling completely defeated and befuddled. At 4:30 PM, the platforms of both tube stations I utilized were packed with dark wool coats and a blur of bags. People were trying to get on the train, but no one was getting out (to accommodate the folks going in and out), and everyone huddled and packed themselves against each other in a 4 by 4 feet area by the doorsdumb sheep style. There should be a law against that. There should also be laws against massive people whose flesh spill over into the adjacent seats. And another law against people who don't remove their backpacks to make space for one more person in the train. I've given this subject a lot of thought. Mostly on the Bedford station platform of the L train when it was 8:30 AM, and three trains had passed by me with ostensibly no space for one more. I get furious, a quiet fury that makes me imagine doing unspeakable and bloody deeds to MTA officials and the apathetic MTA employees who threaten to strike for more wages and benefits, and the heartless MTA officials who have to placate riotous parties on both sides by hiking up the fare for struggling New Yorkers who don't seem to have any representation in this entire discussion, it's not even up for discussion, it just is, and prices just go up (much like gas), suddenly, on a date as final as Judgement Day as deemed by the MTA. (This may not really be an accurate representation of MTA issues, but this is just my interpretation.) I want to hurt them all.

I haven't had to deal with the MTA in months as I've been traveling and breathing fresh air under clear blue skies and dipping my toes in cold, babbling brooks and all that crap, but being in London brought it all back in one rush-hour trip. Public transportation during rush hour, anything during rush hour, makes me hate all of humanity.

Anyways.

On an utterly girly note, I got my eyebrows done by an artist (whose talents I would equate to Michelangelo or Titian), and I have never been so pleased. She spent an entire half hour on them! They're fabulous. I look like a pampered celebrity from my forehead to my browline.

Sleeping, or lack thereof

I hate being awake when the birds start to chirp. You know you are up way too early when the birds have the streets all to themselves.

New Zealand - A Wellington Birthday

13 February, 2009

Thanks for all the lovely birthday wishes on facebook and via email!! I can't tell you how much I miss everyone in the States (and everywhere) despite the wonderful adventures I'm having. And a big thank you for reading my blog. As I've said to a few of you, it's incredibly encouraging to know I have a few readers out there, and that my thoughts don't just float out and die in the Great Interwebspace.

I'm spending today lounging around in my bathrobe in a beautiful Wellington hotel room. A glitterly bouquet of roses and a huge English breakfast were delivered earlier today. I am spoiled rotten, indeed. Pictures to come.

Shameless Plug #2 - Te Anau Lodge

2 -5 February, 2009

I can't rave enough about this place. If you find yourself in New Zealand, I URGE you to stay a few nights here especially if you badly need a break from your claustrophobia-inducing campervan or if you're aching and sore from oh, I don't know, say a 4 day-3 night hike through the fjordlands (Milford Track).

This place is a beautiful new and old little lodge with just 8 rooms, 2 of the most hospitable and friendly people in NZ, and 1 very sweet black Labrador named Josie.

The property is a large stretch of well-tended lawn with a rustic herb garden of basil, some dehydrated mint, and rosemary roughly framing a brick patio. A rusty bicycle leans against the laundry room (open to guests). On a clear day, the lake and its surrounding mountains are shades of blue and perfectly visible. Amid this peaceful atmosphere, you'll find clean, bright, welcoming rooms and 2 hosts, Matt and Chloe, who invite you into the lodge like it's their home. It's the little things that you'll find irresistible and fantastic here, and you'll also probably find yourself booking a room for another two nights (like Stu and I). Stu and I were supposed to spend just one night here to relax and recover and then jump back on the road to our next destination. Instead, we shifted around the rest of our itinerary for South Island, and begged Matt to let us vagabonds stay for two more nights.

What was it exactly that made us stay? It was a combination of the following listed below in no particular order:

1) Pieces of freshly baked, homemade cakes in the beautiful library/lounge upstairs (the carrot cake was delicious) with as much coffee and tea as you like.

The Library/Lounge

Delicious Carrot Cake!

2) Delicious continental and cooked breakfasts in the Chapel room in the mornings.

Continental breakfast spread


Cooked Breakfast

3) The fact that the lodge was a converted convent from 1936. It was literally moved, piece by piece, from a place called Nightcaps in South Dunedin to the town of Te Anau. There are photos and a little album of the entire process and its careful restoration displayed in the library.

4) Matt standing at the door to the patio and calling for his dog Josie.

5) Usually I don't care about this stuff, but little touches like the brightly polished timber wood floors, rimu wood panels and framing, bathroom tiles with paua shell details, and vintage suitcases as doorstops convinced me that a lot of work and thought had been invested in this place.

Suitcase Doorstop

I'm sure I can go on and on, but I think you get the idea. Plus I should leave the rest to be discovered first-hand.

Thanks to our wonderful hosts Matt and Chloe at Te Anau Lodge.

Shameless Plug #1 - Kapiti Ice Cream

The best ice cream in the world is in New Zealand. Well, I don't have the research to back up that statement, but I'm working on it.

Kapiti Ice Cream, made by Kapiti Fine Foods Ltd., is incredibly delicious and creamy, deserving all the gold awards it received from the NZ Ice Cream Awards. (Sidenote: Kiwis seem to have awards for everything. We saw a tiny residential street awarded with "Best Street 2007" in Taupo.) The source of the name Kapiti is this beautiful region which was shrouded in low clouds and pouring rain when we drove through.

Bush Fires

I understand now why New Zealand has these signs posted along the state highways all across the nation. It's mostly a good thing, I think, that one can sense the heavy presence of the NZ government's hand. But that's wandering into another topic altogether.

For this entry, I just want to acknowledge all the brave firemen and rescue workers (some sent by NZ's prime minister) and the victims of the tragic bushfires in Australia. I hope all your friends and family down under are safe.

New Zealand - Skydiving

13 January, 2009

We were picked up at 9 AM to go skydiving by a "Kane" who had spiky brown hair with sandy blond highlights which was carefully swept over with plenty of hair gel like a contemporary interpretation of Mike Score from A Flock of Seagulls. He drove the van (which was empty of clients except us) fast and kept using his cell phone to call his base and make worrisome comments like "Do you know of a petrol station by here? I'm running out of petrol, yeah?" He was dressed like a skater but had an inordinate fondness for top 40 pop songs - we heard it all - Britney Spears, Pink, and Katy Perry to indiscernible, angry techno. I fell asleep only because I was so exhausted by jet lag.

Next thing I know, we were off the main motorway and on a windy, two-way road that undulated between rolling hills and valleys. It felt like he was driving really fast at this point, and the music was turned up louder since the engine was working harder, and suddenly, we arrived at a sign - NZ Skydive.

The place seemed like a hangout for skaters or truants. The office was a reinterpreted 2 bedroom home with shabby furnishings - worn, dirty carpeted hallway, a bare bathroom with no soap and a suspicious dark brown hand towel. Although there were anywhere from 10 to 15 guys milling about, nobody really spoke to us save the fat receptionist with pasty thick eyeliner and badly highlighted hair. She was relatively friendly until you started requesting things from her like a cup of water, then she became rather unhelpful and dismissive.

The guys all looked like aging skaters, others looked like they were barely out of high school, and a few looked like they were trying really hard to fit in. Four guys sat on an old velor couch watching videos of skydiving. Three or four more guys were gathered around a large Mac computer monitor watching more skydiving footage.

Finally, a guy named Jari took us aside with a curt "Let's get you in your jumpsuits" (in a thick Finnish accent) and didn't bother to introduce himself until Stu was in his jumpsuit and ready for the harness. I guess he thought it was best to introduce himself right before he got nice and intimate with us on the plane. Then we sat around in a stifling, air condition-less room until an older man came in with a colorful canopy (parachute) bag. The attention of the lounging guys turned, and several guys went over to talk to the man. This was Tony - the chief safety officer with over 12,000 jumps under his belt. He was my man. I was going tandem with this guy, the top dog. He was probably only in his late forties but his face was weathered like an old sailor's.

We were driven to the plane on the back of a truck like a hayride to our impending deaths. The driver/pilot looked like a 'Nam vet with a leathery, wrinkled face, aviator glasses (probably hiding his glass eye), and long greasy salt and pepper hair tucked under a trucker hat. He wore a long sleeved camouflage top and black denim cut-off shorts showcasing his hairy tanned legs.

Getting ready for the thrill of my life

We boarded (more like climbed and crawled) into the tiniest airplane I've ever seen. It was possibly the first plane ever manufactured, something straight out of Casablanca. We sat completely squished together so I didn't know whose limbs I was pressed against. Tony sat in the back, I sat facing him with our legs intertwined. Jari sat next to me with Stu between his legs, like lovers on a beach. My right leg lost feeling, not that it mattered before my fall to what seemed like sure death.

I expected the flight to be nauseating but it was quite pleasant to fly thousands of feet above the rolling hills and farms outside of Auckland - the same view we had flying into Auckland. Then I remembered that I wasn't just taking a ride, and my only way back was to jump out of that plane. We flew up to 12,000 feet which didn't really sound like too much in the brochure but definitely felt like a lot when saw farmhouses turning into tiny dots.

Stu jumped out first with Jari. There were several parts that were equally terrifying but each seemed to trump its predecessor. The first part was when Jari unlatched the flimsy plastic door which immediately snapped open and let the cold air blast in. It was misty and gray. We were in the middle of a cloud. The second most terrifying moment was when Stu hung off the side of the plane, his legs swinging beneath the side of the plane, and then suddenly disappeared into the gray mist. The third came when Tony started scooting us (I was attached to him by this point) towards the open door, effectively pushing me towards the edge. For a split second, I saw swirling mist and the absolute nothing beneath my feet. As instructed, I immediately tilted my head back (I didn't want to see what was or wasn't beneath me anyway) and held my arms in a cross against my chest like the sign language for "I love you". I didn't have time to be scared. I just remember my mind going blank and Tony saying, "Ready, darling"? I think I nodded and all I felt was his heaving stomach and barrel chest pressing against my back. He pushed off, and we spun through the frigid air in the most terrifying way. I forgot to breathe, but my mouth was open, and at one point in mid-tumble to earth, I felt my ears popping really, really painfully. The pressure made these sharp, painful snaps in my ears. I noticed that my mouth had become completely dry, and I finally shut it. At some point, Tony tapped my shoulder and I was free to release my arms and legs into a frog position. Apparently, we experienced about 45 seconds of free fall which was both an eternity and a flash. Tony pulled a cord, and I was violently jerked upright, the harness dug into my legs. While we were free falling, Tony had tapped my shoulder and pointed out the scenery which boggled my mind. How can you pay attention to some damn hills and cows when you're hurtling to the earth at god knows what speed? But, once we were floating with the parachute, I was able to close my mouth and look around. It was peaceful and extremely breathtaking. The only distractions I had were my popping ears, headache, and straps digging into my legs. But what a view!

It's a shame that we didn't opt for any pictures or video, but I'll be skydiving again in the near future, I'm sure. It's a highly recommended activity!

http://www.nzskydive.co.nz/