One Month Free Range

February 8th was our one month anniversary of being on the road and since we were in Hawke's Bay at the time, visiting wineries, playing golf and walking along the beach, we figure we're doing pretty well!

It feels like we've been in New Zealand longer than two weeks (actually, we have — when I started this entry is was the 8th, but it's Valentine's Day when I'm getting around to posting). When we flip through the photos on our camera and see all the things we've done and the places we've been so far, it feels more like it's been MONTHS, not just one. Jenn thinks we need to slow it down a little, or we're going to burn out.

And Fiji? Fiji feels like it was a different year, another time. And yet it was only a few weeks ago.

Adjusting to the camper van took some time for both of us, but we now have our routines down and know where to find (mostly) those irritating little items (combs, keys, pens) that enjoy going missing. I was worried that I would find sleeping in the camper to be troublesome — uncomfortable, hot, etc. — but we both sleep very well and easily, albeit for the snoring now and then. Not sure who's responsible for that...

I am beginning to reclaim myself a bit — that "lid on the jar" getting looser all the time. I had my van-trum day when I "hated the camper and everything in it" and was certain I would gouge my eyes out with the end of my toothbrush before two months was up (if I could find my toothbrush, that is...)

But, like all moments, it passed. The next morning, I reminded myself that I needed to surrender to it, not try and maintain my old expectations in this new environment. That brought me some measure of peace which I now cling to. It works quite nicely.

Both of us assumed we would have to take "motel breaks" now and then to break up the camper van life, but neither of us are there yet.

My thoughts are lighter. My asthma is non existent which is a real pleasure after three years of inhalers and not really being able to take a full breath. I don't worry about fifteen things that need to get done in a day — a real privilege. My resistance to the moments and events that come at me is much lower. I find I can let it flow through me where as a month ago, I'd want to grab on and hold it, sort, it, absorb it and then let it go — when I was ready.

An enlightened teacher once tried to explain his state of being as, "I don't mind what happens." I am not there — I often find myself minding what happens very much. But, I do understand a little better what he means.

I had a day recently when my life situation few months ago — work, our house on Dilworth — was all very close and present, rolling about in my thoughts. For the whole day, I carried the the people and characters, events and conversations around with me like two heavy bags as we hiked Cape Kidnappers.

But, it was, I believe, the last gasp. It has faded and holds no momentum. This is now our life. It is no longer a holiday or a long trip. It's just how we live, traveling from town to town, site to site, stopping in at i-sites to get the lowdown and then finding a campsite. You scrounge coins for laundry. Check out the Wi-fi rates. Chat with your new neighbours and compare stories. Look at the day's photos and write a blog entry. Make dinner (or drink it...)

This is it.

For now.

The trick is, how to hang onto this state that is developing?

Our goal was to find a new way to be, to reset ourselves and already, both of us feel that reclamation coming around. But, we can't always live like this. Can we?

Our choice to travel was to put ourselves in a situation where it would be most easy, most productive to reset ourselves and see what new emerged. But, how do we go forth with what we've discovered and forge a new life?

Not sure about that one...

And, now I leave you with a shot of a highly free range chicken trying to get into our camper. Jenn says we're kind of like that free range chicken ourselves - wandering around trying to get into things.

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

Apparently, it's us!

My dear friend Karen's husband, Curtis, spent a formative part of his childhood in the Wellington area. When we told them we were planning to head to New Zealand, he said that he'd get in touch with his best mate growing up (Morgan) who is a great guy and would give us the low down on the area.

Not only did Morgan give us the lowdown on his hood, he invited us to join in on his family's Sunday dinner!



So, at 6 p.m. this fine evening (February 13), the Cruzy pulled up to Morgan's parents home in Lower Hutt and we were treated to another one of those famous New Zealand warm welcomes.

There was Ann and Owen (Morgan's parents), Morgan, his wife Cal and their new daughter Willa. There was his sister Miriam and her husband Matt, his other brother Ben and his sweetheart, and of course, his Gran was there too (she brought her famous Pavlova for dessert). Only his other sister Beth was absent.


We learned about "bogan's" (NZ's word for hard rocking mullet men and women), shared travel adventures, were treated to a lovely dinner, and left with a handwritten list of things we should consider doing while we are in Wellington.

We continue to be overwhelmed at the generosity and sincerity of the folks we meet in New Zealand.

Perhaps the best treat was getting to see photos (and hear the stories) of Curtis when he was just a wee lad. Second row up from the bottom, third from the right...and love that background!




-J

In the Field

We first see Yens and Sofie on the 6am bus to do the Tongariro hike. We first speak to them when we are deciding to hike the offshoot summit trail.

"What would you say to the couples that got off the bus?" says Keir (referring to the fact that the bus driver had given us all the option to get off the bus in light of the call for bad weather and we were now currently hiking in perfectly lovely conditions). "We'll have to take all the water that we didn't drink and pour it all over our jackets and tell them that it was horrible and rained all day" says Yens, "We wouldn't want them to feel too bad for missing this! Are you thinking about doing the Tongariro summit trail?" he then asks. "Well..." says Keir, "We'll do it if you do!". We had actually already decided to do it and were just finishing up our snack. As we set off Yens hollers after us, "Does this mean that we have to as well?"

Although the peak is in and out of clouds we figure that, at some point along the hike, we'll be able to see out.

Yens and his sweetheart Sofie did actually decide to do the summit trail and we see them again on the top. "You decided to do it!" I say "the view is great!" and as I sweep my arm out to showcase the lovely view I notice that, in a breath, the entire area has clouded over. "It was just there! It was beautiful! I promise you COULD see it!" I protest. "Yes, well, in my country we have a saying" says Yens, "Don't cry over spilt milk". He smiles widely. Not sure that the saying comes from Denmark but we keep our mouths shut.

Fortunately, the clouds did lift for them, for when we see them at the end of the hike in the carpark they shout over that they were glad they did it. This leads to us riding the bus back to the campsite together and chatting.

Sofie and Yens are from Denmark although you couldn't guess that Yens is because his voice sounds almost American. "Yes, that is from when I was in the States for a year doing a school exchange, and from when I was in Afghanistan".

Yens is on his way to becoming an orthopedic surgeon. He starts his residency in one months time, thus the timing of this New Zealand trip. He'd seen the Lord of the Rings movies and fell in love with the scenery. After doing all the schooling leading up to the residency though he'd found himself getting what he called "stale". So, he enlisted in the Danish army and got himself a medic posting in Afghanistan.

We gently inquire whether he'd be willing to talk about his time there and he takes a deep breath, "I wasn't able to for awhile but, yes". We learn that he was there for four months. Long months where sometimes everything happened and sometimes nothing happened. We learn that Sofie (who is also studying to be a doctor) was very worried that he would not return....or would choose to go back. At this he says, "It was very hard for me to relate to people when I came back".

He spoke about having to overcome several fears while training with the army. One test has you having to eject yourself from plane fuselage while upside down in water. "It is only in a test pool but they need to know that you won't panic and can get yourself out before sinking". As he is telling us about this experience his body is acting out the steps he'd need to go through to get himself out, and I can see his eyes almost go on autopilot. "Yes" he says when I note this, "It becomes a series of routine steps".

Another test has you, in your full gear, fall backwards into a pool 3 meters below. You need to be able to do this without breaking your pin straight army posture. If you don't, you land in the water in a painful fashion.

The biggest fear he had to overcome was his claustrophobia. He says he nearly didn't make it through the fire maze that the army constructs where you have to find your way into a simulated burning area to rescue those in there. You do this without being able to see and having to push yourself through the tiniest of spaces.

He also talks about the American "hearts and minds" operation. Where the medics provide medical treatment for the locals in hopes that they will then provide them with information. "You see some really bad stuff there", he says, referring to the locals medical troubles. Everything from severe gangrene, to Afghan soldiers injured by roadside bombs, to mothers feeding their infants black tea and then worrying that they are not gaining weight. "There is not good education happening there yet.... maybe it will always be that way?" he wonders. He praises the American field medics commenting on all that they can do "They know how to do crazy stuff - they know how to pull teeth man, I don't know how to do that!".

When it seems to get too heavy for him he lightens the conversation by cracking a joke to Keir about something to do with one of the campervans. Then we're all off chatting again about where we might go, what we'd like to do (Yens would like to confront what he calls "his last fears" by skydiving and bungy jumping), and hoping that we'll all meet up again.

Sofie and Yens fall into that category of "good peeps". We hope that our paths DO indeed cross again!


-J

The Tongariro Alpine Crossing

"I got some good news and some bad news."

Scotty "James" Doohan pulls up the Tongariro Expedition shuttle promptly at 6:00 a.m with no one on the bus. We take this as an ominous sign.

"The weather forecast has changed drastically," says Scotty. "They're now calling for rain on the mountain starting this morning and going all day. But, if you still want to go, I'll take you."

"What's the good news?" I ask.

"That I'll still take you."

"Oh."

After a 5:00 a.m. wake up call and "gut'sing" breakfast down, we are the first ones out in the dark, waiting by the side of the road for the Tongariro Hike shuttle to come by. Jenn asks Scotty about the possibility of high winds?

"It should just be a breeze."

"Fine, then we're in!"

We think Scotty wants his Saturday free and is trying to scare people off the shuttle. His threatening weather forecast does indeed scare a few couples into getting off. But, not us. And not the other ten or so who figure, we're here and how bad can it really be?

In fact, it is glorious. By the time we get to the drop off point for the trek, even Scotty is scratching his head and revising the forecast. "I think they may have got it wrong," he says, scanning the skies. "You may be in luck.

To those who got off the bus — SUCKERS!




We set off in the early morning light, promising to cherish every step we take that is rain free. And we have no rain at all — not a drop. Did we cherish every step? You bet!








The Tongariro Alpine Crossing is probably NZ's most well known one day hike. In peak season, from December and January, it is not uncommon for 700 people to hike the trail in a single day. Don't stop to enjoy the view — you might get pushed off the cliff by the hoards...









This time however, the potential for crowds doesn't deter us. We're doing this trek no matter what. And because the forecast is iffy, we think many hikers have bailed, missing out on a spectacular day.




The hike is 18.5 K through some of the most scenic and active volcanic areas of the World Heritage Site that is Tongariro Park. You really get to see everything NZ has to offer — fumeroles, volcanic craters and valleys, mountains, plains, lakes, forests and panoramic views of the lake Taupo area — it has it all.














The walk is divided into 5 distinct sections. A couple of them are severely uphill, which gives us a workout! We choose to deviate from the hike and take an offshoot track that leads us to the Tongariro Summit. It's a little cloudy up there, but we can still get a few good views when it clears.







It's a great tramp and not too bad on the knees and hips. Like the terrain, we get a little bit of everything — sun, cloud (literally), warm temps and cool. The changes in altitude mean we start off in t-shirts, but by the time we get up the mountain, we are bundled up in extra layers and our wind jackets.



We run into other hikers often, but it's not too crowded at all. We stop for lunch on a rock just before beginning our descent.






Reaching the bottom of the mountain just after 2:00 p.m., we take the waiting shuttle back to our campsite.

"My boss cancelled a whole trip of 60 people because the weather forecast was so bad," says Scotty on the drive back. "He's tearing his hair out now!"

Back at base camp we shower up, make an early dinner and chat with our new friends from Denmark, Sofie and Yentz. The rain that they called for today? It showed up about 8pm. Thankfully, we're all tucked up cosy inside the Cruzy!

UPDATE: The following morning, the weather is even better and we are able to get a couple of unobscured shots of Mt. Doom and the neighbouring mountains as we drive through the park and head towards Wellington.

Teeing It Up At The Cape

Okay, yes, I folded like a cheap suit. Too many locals were telling me to get up the hill and play the Cape Kidnappers course, one of the best in New Zealand and currently ranked #18 in the world by Golf Digest (www.cape kidnappers.com).

So, we did. I say we because the folks at Cape Kid were very accommodating and allowed Jenn to walk the course while I played. You don't find that privilege so much in North America. It was a nice treat and Jenn got to see the course and the views (plus she's really good at finding my lost balls in the fescue after errant shots).



Jenn was also the official photographer for the day, so enjoy her handiwork.



We were a little concerned that trucking up the hill in our yobby Cruzy Camper might get us kicked back down. Considering that some folk take helicopters in to play a round, we thought the Cruzy might not make the grade. But it was surprisingly laid back at the Cape Kid camp. The clubhouse was understated elegant — small, with old wood and rustic touches of metal, stone and wool. The pro shop people were congenial and down to earth. I was hoping to borrow some clubs from Tony down in the camp, but as he was out, that offer fell through. The pro shop got me set up and after hitting a few balls on the practice tee, we were away. I played as a single with Jenn walking alongside. The weather was ideal — sunny and breezy, not too hot at all.


It's a golfer's course and tough — the rough is thick and punishing and if you drive it into the fescue, forget finding your ball. The fairways are immaculate and the greens perfect. Lots of undulations. It's a course that tells a story as you go and I would like to return and play it again a couple more times to figure that story out. Playing it for the first time, I got myself into trouble, hitting into places I had no business being. A second or third time through, you'd know where to go and where to avoid.















The back nine is the real treat as you play out and along the shoreline and cliffs and get some fabulous views of Hawke Bay. It's really what people come to see.









Is it worth the $300 Canadian I forked over to play? No. New Zealanders pay $150 and that seems about right. Here's the thing: It's called Cape Kidnappers and their logo is a graphic of the Cape Kidnappers cliffs, and yet you NEVER get a view of the actual Cape Kidnappers cliffs while you're playing the course. You get stunning views of Hawke Bay and at the 16th you can see the black reef (and even drive your ball out into the ocean, which we did for fun and to watch the hang time). But never a view of the actual Cape Kidnappers.





What's up with that? We walked the 5 hour hike along the beach to the gannet colony and got GREAT views of the Cape. And that was free!!!




I imagine all these people flying in from all around the world, paying the $1500 for a helicopter ride from the airport, playing the course and never actually SEEING the real Cape Kidnappers. Something is wrong there...






However, it is a very fine course, as you can see. And tough... did I mention that? I shot a 99 on the nose. Nothing to be proud of, but then I was using borrowed clubs. The unfamiliar driver was dragging me down. Let's just say, Jenn was in the fescue looking for my ball more than once... Had I used my own clubs, I'm sure it would have been an 84...


We walked the course, which also freaked them out a little, because no one does that, apparently. But, if I was going to pony up and play it, then I was darn well going to walk it and get my money's worth. By the time we got to 15, the legs were getting a little wobbly. But, I pulled it together for 17 and 18 and ended respectably.



Afterwards, we got talking with Johnny at the bar who is from Phoenix (it seems it is mostly Americans who work here). Johnny will finish his stint at Kidnappers in April and then plans to travel the south island. He is very impressed that we have sold up everything in our lives and are travelling — the best story he's heard in a while, he says. He comps us a beer and a free shot of Jack Daniels.

Not bad. I was hoping they'd comp us the golf round, especially after I mentioned I was from Mike Weir's home town. But no such luck.

Maybe it was BECAUSE I mentioned I was from Mike Weir's home town...?

- K

Pilot/ Co-Pilot

J: In about 500 meters you are going to turn left.
(10 seconds later)
J: In about 100 meters you are going to turn left.
(5 seconds later)
J: You are now turning left.
K: Turning left. Check!
J: Now. You want to stay in the left hand lane here.
K: Left hand lane. Check!
J: There is a bicyclist coming up just ahead. Are you seeing that?
K: Seeing the bike. Check!
J: You are going to next be turning right in about 200 meters.
K: Fer Chrissake - am I driving with an anal retentive GPS unit!?!
J: Unlike SOME PEOPLE I take my navigational responsibilities seriously.
K: Unlike "some people"? Would "some people" be ME?
J: I'm just sayin' that when I'm navigating we get to where we're going without having to turn around a bazillion times.
K: I don't mind turning around. I like turning around.
J: Apparently. Because when you navigate we are always turning around. We are never knowing where we are going. And, what's with the annoying sounds you make when you should be looking at the map and telling me where to turn?
K: Telling you where to turn or telling you where to go?! And... those were not "annoying noises" they were helpful. I was simply simulating the tick-tock sound of the indicator to inform you that you needed to put it on and turn left.
J: Really?! Really?! I was supposed to know by the most ANNOYING SOUND EVER CREATED that I was to turn left?!? AND you don't even have the map out. EVER! No wonder you have no idea where we are.
K: That's all part of the adventure isn't it?
J: No. It's not. At least not when I'm driving. And, you can just shut it. Oh, and you are going to need to merge right in about 300 meters.

Sharks and Wine

The New Zealand National Aquarium in Napier turns out to be a good visit. We've had mixed results with aquariums in the past, and although the Napier one is small, it is well done and has an excellent shark and stingray tank! Much like the larger one in Sydney, you walk through a glass tube and can watch the sharks, rays, and other fish swim all around you. At one point, I just about needed a change of underwear when a dark mass floats over my left shoulder only to realize it was a stingray passing over me, it's mouth gaping. All behind the glass thankfully!



We see school sharks, bronze whalers and a seven gill shark. We also watch a diver from the aquarium feed the coral fish (and the very large crayfish).









The aquarium also has a nocturnal kiwi house. We enjoyed watching the pair waddle about - being able to observe them more closely than we could at Trounson forest. I think both Jenn and I wanted to say to anyone clustered near the glass habitat "We saw one...IN THE WILD!"

But we were able to keep our mouths shut!

Hawke's Bay is known for it's wineries so we needed to see what all the fuss is. Our campsite out on Cape Kidnappers (could there be a cooler name?!) is near a couple of them - one being Elephant Hill which we hit first. There we meet Nicola who, in a laid-back cruzy way, takes us through their wines. So much fun, the three of us are having, that Nicola's manager comes over at one point to see what we're up (well, really just to try to get in on the fun we're sure!!). Oops! We sing Nicola's praises and the manager floats off...and...after a few glasses of wine, so do we!



Up next is Black Barn (a good Chardonnay but a bit of a hoity-toity place). Then Salvatare, where the wine is so-so, but the olive oil and spreads are quite tasty. There we are introduced to dukkah which is a seasoned dry roasted seed and nut mixture used for dipping. Very tasty!


TeAwa winery has another good Chardonnay (several in fact) and an excellent Syrah...plus a pretty nice lunch menu. So we take a seat out on the lawn and do some food and wine pairing. No dinner needed tonight...









Our final stop is at Clearwater Estates, back near the campsite, where they are known for their Chardonnay (they have a great Cab. Franc there too!). We have to pick up another bottle of Chardonnay to add to our collection. They also introduce us to a local brew called "Rooster Ale". Too bad it's only a sample as it is pretty good!

All the wineries offer free tastings and the people manning the tasting bars are very knowledgeable. They can talk at length about their various wines. We have lots of questions and enjoy trying to guess the subtle flavours in the wines we try. "Ummm a little bee pollen, a touch of candy floss, and just a hint of day old Chinese Food in the finish?"

We weren't always their favorite guests!

Wine tasting can be such a ridiculous thing all that swirling, slurping, swishing, and spitting. We tried to ride that line between "new-bies" and knowing the basics. Jenn says you get better service (and more free samples) when you pretend to know nothing but ask lots of good questions. The bartenders like your questions and feel like they are teaching something (which they usually are!).


And she's right.