West Coast is the Best Coast

Let's see if I can get this conveyed in 14 minutes and 55 seconds.

Our adventures left off in the town of Hokitika, where with little persuasion we forked out the 22 dollars to see the circus. Honestly people, we need to go to the circus more often. It's great family fun and if you're lucky you'll get to see the Globe of Death riders in full force. The town is known mostly for jade, but it's damn expensive... so don't get your hopes up. I managed to avoid spending large amounts of money--a new game I like to play with myself. We didn't want to stay in hostels so we started looking for camping spots on the side of the road. We asked a surly farmer selling fruit and he gave us hot tip on the beach. It was difficult deciding between there and the abandoned geriatric home... real tough choice.

We moved north a bit and set our sights on Greymouth to do some "city" stuff. Laundry took a lot of our patience. What took more of our patience was not beating the shit out of some 17 year old punk ass kids who threw water balloons at us. They got real scared when we got up after their car though and they failed to come back and finish the job. I fucking hate Greymouth.

We traveled further that day to Barrytown where the All Nations Hotel sucked us in with their home brew, sassy owner, and nearby locale to a knifemaker. Yes, we stayed 3 nights in a 1-bar town just to make some knives. But these knives are awesome. The kind of knife you would feel good about using to stab a cop, or even a lowly First Alarm patrolman. The third night got out of control thanks to Tomas, who then promptly bowed out of the bar when his 1st grade style of flirting caught him nothing but glares. Good try Tomas. I invented a shot. It's called Deano Does Dallas, in honor of the owner who decrees happy hour whenever he damn well pleases.

After Barrytown we made it all the way to Golden Bay where words cannot describe the scenery. The best way to put it is that it's the closest thing on earth to paradise. The family was amazingly nice and they happened to be hosting a friend of mine. Weird coincidence to run into Tristen in the middle of nowhere, but real nice to see him. We dug some holes, cleared some trees, ate vast amounts of food, and I learned how to bake bread. I need a helluva lot more practice though.

Time's about up. But we're headed back north to auckland soon, and I'll be gone from this terrific place in a couple weeks. Back to California... the other west coast as the best coast.

New Zealanders are incredibly nice, unexpectedly trustworthy... and it scares me. Why would someone leave their business in the hands of 3 men they met a week ago? What would make them feel secure? They don't have our passports, any collateral, or even our last names. It's insane I tell you, but maybe they've mastered the art of judging people. Because if there were 3 young chaps like ourselves hosting my hostel, I'd feel like I put it in safe hands.

So we've gotten stuck in Oamaru. It's a quiet town that boasts itself as the largest town in New Zealand. It barely reaches 15,000 people. But we've been staying at this hostel for free in exchange for doing a few things around the place. So far we've laid down flooring, set up a theater, built an outdoor kitchen, and hung pictures and shelves all about the house. Now Kelly has gone to Christchurch to celebrate her 30th birthday and that leaves the three stooges in charge. Little known fact, New Zealanders love using that as a reference towards us all the time.

But Christchurch, damn, that's a fun city. We had a blast there, enjoying the botanical gardens that stretch around the river near the center of town. It was also our luck that a Documentary Film Festival was happening during our stay. We dropped our things at a local hostel outside of the center and were dumbfounded to a) share a room with two kids that patrick shared a dorm with in Auckland weeks before, and b) that they were a couple. I mean, who wouldn't want to spend the extra couple bucks at a hostel for a private room? Just not my style I suppose, or maybe they're cutting economic corners left and right.

The town kept us busy for a few days until we could meet up with some folks I met in Fiji. They are an odd couple. World travelers and such, but jesus, they smoke a lot of weed. They treated us great and fed us dinner, all in exchange for nothing, just company. We stayed there two nights and then hit the road for Oamaru. I tell you, Oamaru treats you right, and we haven't even been to the whiskey distillery yet. The penguins were by far the coolest thing to see in this town, and it's sort of frightening how many times we've been to the recycle yard to pick up junk to build with at the house. And I guess I did learn a little about stone sculpting in the process. Yeah, things are chillin.

Well, anyway, that's what were up to these days. Next stop is Dunedin.

Let's face it. My blog abounds with relevant information... er, uh.

So where are we? Chris is alive and kicking. I got punished with food poisoning for revealing his weakness for chest infections. But all is well now and we seem to be stuck at this hostel in Kaikoura on the northeast coast of the south island. It's got a free sauna, what can I say? We stayed with a host before that in Blenheim. Truly nice to do some work and then hit up a few wineries in the area. Wine tasting... the biggest conglomerate of bullshitters known to man. I've got some friends that would fit right in, Ted. Regardless, I had some incredible wines, the best vinagrette to date, chocolate liquers, olive oils to please the palate, and the 'Best gin in the world'.

We did some usual yard work in Blenheim, while Patrick got to resist the vicious wind by building shelves in a closet. At the end of our stay we built a rock couch inside a paddock. The sheep had been moved to another pen, but this one stubborn bastard kept escaping. The flimsy electric that she put up was barely holding it, so I went out to fix it on the last day. Only, out of no where this swarm of bees dived bomb me, forcing me to hop the electric like Carl Lewis and sprint up hill dragging Chris along with me in the confusion. That was when I called it a day and sat by the fire inside.

We're on our way to Christchurch tomorrow and will stay until we have spent all our money again. I fucking hate spending money when I fail to reap much more from it than food and shelter. Where are all the tanglible items that I can cherish forever, shit. Halloween should still be good, even though New Zealanders claim not to celebrate. That'll just make our thrift store costumes that much better at the classy joints in Christchurch.

Well, I hope the weather gets warmer, but it's a fine line to walk as you're traveling south while spring casually comes on the scene.

"I can't stop shaking"

The other night we camped out by the river north of Taupo after a delicious, yet expensive Indian meal. Because Taupo lies on the central plateau the night air was chilly. Patrick and I have grown accustomed to sleeping in the car when we camp because it's so comfortable with all our crap in the car, not to mention the fact that when it's raining non-stop you just want the driest place possible. Anyway, I was awoken in the night by Chris, who having emerged from his tent was shaking uncontrollably. It seems dear Christopher forgot to put down a pad. The earth just sucked the heat right from his body and sent him nearly to a hypothermic state. All that said and done, he was a little lethargic the next day from lack of sleep and bodily trauma. We gave him shit all day because, what else can you do? However, last night Chris woke us up again inside our hostel room with the shaking happening again. It was bizarre and we noticed that he had a high fever as well. We asked him what he wanted to do, because he obviously didn't have hypothermia this time. He opted for the hospital. So we went to the hospital early this morning (2am) and had a lovely time reading tabloids while Chris got IVs stuck in his arm. Still not sure what he has, but he's still kicking and that's good. Needless to say, we're crashing another night in Palmerston North for Chris to recover, but I'll be damned if we have to cancel our expensive-ass ferry tickets to the south island in two days. God I hope whatever he has is not contagious. The doctor is leaning towards bacterial, but chest x-rays didn't look good either.

Anyway, Patrick and I have been up all night and are about to explore the free museum and acclaimed gardens.

code word: sarsparilla

Well, the technology front gets shadier and shadier the deeper we get, but what do you know, I've got some dial-up internet. Yeah, says a lot about my privilege when I am shocked that dial-up still exists.

So far we're doing all right. Lots of late night Rummy games and building of a sweet backgammon board. We take our car Gerald for drives that even stun our Mitsubishi motor vehicle. We've built a deck and awning, ran irrigation, weeded inside hot-houses, and castrated sheep. There's something so sinister about attaching a rubberband to a lamb's testes, but yet, so satisfactory... maybe that's the sinister part. We're currently in Opotiki, but are about to enter Hell's Gate in Rotorua. Then to Wellington via Taupo and off to the south island for a 5 week stint of breath-taking adventures.

We're teaching ourselves how to bone carve; a most vomit-inducing adventure. The bones need cleaning, then soaking, then cleaning, then soaking, then cleaning, then drying, then carving. Needless to say, it takes a butt-load of time to prepare just to struggle with the carving part.

Oh, and I now have a Mullet... I'm my own worst enemy.

Lentils Everywhere!

I was awakened this morning by an army style shouting informing me that I had to do push-ups. It was only Chris, but damn, it ruined my pleasant morning in my sleeping bag. We've been staying with this woman who is a music teacher in Auckland, but owns a farm in the Coromandel region. We've been stranded at her house here in the city for a few days since she had to attend a conference mid-week and before that her car was broken so she couldn't show us her country place. But it's been loaded with fun things to do and amazing scenery regardless of the 1 million people and such associated with big cities. Chris however, has been playing gym coach and whipping us all into shape, despite my Fiji-acquired sinus cold. I'm all better though--it must have been the sudden jolt of Patrick smashing a bag of lentils over my head in retaliation for me eating his cheese.

It was an easy plane ride, but I waited just as long for Patrick to pick me up as I did watching the instant classic of Mr. Bean's Holiday on the plane. My cold got worse and I had to keep my head clear for customs because New Zealand is extremely strict about customs and quarantine. I declared all I could think of that might be considered part of any of the categories--including my shoes and sleeping pad--but it was fantastic when I was opening my snorkel and mask case to show them the shells I'd brought. The shells were fine, but I'd forgotten about the seed pod I found. The official immediately confiscated it, leaving me to silently recite the mantra of "please don't fine me". Even better though was when the sand flie flew out of the case and caused a moment of panic in the woman who made a mad dash around the table to kill it. I pretty much thought I was screwed at that point. But like most New Zealanders, she was almost too nice and let me go with just the shaking of her head and a "have a pleasant stay in New Zealand".

Well, we've also been stocking up on essentials for our journey in Gerald (our car). Unfortunately, the only dominoes set that New Zealand sells are Cinderella and Spongebob picture ones. We do have Uno though, and that is essential for our entertainment needs.

We should be in the countryside of Coromandel by Saturday night. We've been given the task of building a deck outside of our host's house. Thank god Patrick knows what he's talking about, because I have no idea how to look at her blueprints and make it into the same thing. Her place sounds amazing and we're waiting to get a look at it and the work associated with it before we decide how long we want to stay there.

Fiji

When I first arrived in Fiji I was thinking about how my first blog entry would be a bitch session about flying there and how United is probably the worst airline, next to One Two Go! of course. But now that I've been here for a few days, I just want to say, "fuck United, and long live Fiji."

I landed early in the morning Fijian time after having slept like a baby on the plane. I waited to catch a flight to Suva from Nadi, and during that time managed to meet someone that knows someone that works with my aunt here in the capital of Fiji. It's a small island with smaller circles. Anyway, my aunt and cousin and I spent two nights here in the city, but then made a plan to escape to the east. While in Suva we checked out the Colo I Suva Forest Park outside the city. As we descended down the trail, my aunt couldn't help but play with the giant centipede on the tree trunk. Only later did we find out that these things are carnivorous and as quoted from a Peace Corps worker stationed in Tonga, "I've been bitten three times. Each time I went to the hospital. And those three bites were easily the most painful three experiences of my life." Apparently they make bee lines for people and can hightail it faster than you can walk. The only way to kill them is to sever the head... way cool.

Anyway, we dropped in on these natural and manually assisted pools. There are about 12 of them and they all flow into each other. The last of them is this giant pool with a rope swing that drops you from a good 25 feet if you swing from the top step. The pool was so deep and though it was fresh water, it was easily warmer than the air. It was great to be there though with only 2 other strangers. It was nearly a private amusement park. After that, I was given a sample of Fiji Bitter, the best beer in Fiji. I was a little put off since I hate bitter beers, but... totally worth it when you have just been swinging like Tarzan for a couple hours. To clarify, it's not really bitter and it's the bomb. Also while in Fiji I saw my first Bollywood film. The name was something like Dhamaal, but seriously people, what the fuck? It was supposed to be this comedy, but it was more ridiculous than Naked Gun 33 1/3 and it directly stole lines from Road Trip and was nearly identical in plot to It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World. Either way, it made me want to see it again, probably because of one scene where this guy dies and as he drops his head in the guy's hands by his side, his leg kicks out and knocks over a bucket.

On Sunday we headed for Waidalice river mouth and pulled Xiomara out of school for the first half of the week. Our destination was a small island of Caqalai (pronounced: Thungalai). There we basked in the sun and snorkeled in some of the clearest water I've ever seen. The mental images still astound me. We did some diving off of another little island off of our little island. It's aptly named snake island and though we didn't see any of them in the water like was reported, we'd seen one earlier in the morning by Caqalai. Also while diving we saw a small shark, moray eel about 5 feet long, and some giant fish that we could never identify, but presumably Cod.

I feel like my words can't do Fiji justice, so I promise next time, I'll just post some pictures.