Missing that bottomless cup

No matter how long the trip, sometime before it's over, that feeling of homesickness hits. Like this morning when ordering "One 'flat white' and one 'long black with extra water," and paying $6.50, I thought to myself, I'm tired of paying so much for coffee I don't really like. I missed my coffee maker. I was tired of the coffee bags we used at the campground, and I found myself wondering, "Where's the filtered coffee in this country!"
I also woke up at four am this morning thinking, "Leo is too big for this tent; he's taking up more than half, my half!" So it was time to think about returning home. But in the meantime, we would live the island life...nice and easy. Thanks to Alice and Chuck, we avoided Paihia and drove directly to Russell in the Bay of Islands near the top of the North Island. It rained the entire day, which was okay since it was a driving day.
We left Goat Island campground right after breakfast. What a great place to stay. It was one of things on my list after our Malcolm and Helen adventure. Snorkeling in the Marine Reserve of Goat Island sounded perfect. And it was. I rented fins, snorkel and mask for ten bucks from Fiona, the campground owner. We drove to the beach but should have walked the 500 meters. Families with kids playing in the surf covered the black sand and I saw a dozen snorklers in the water beyond the rocks. I put on my fins and clumsily whacked my way over the sand to the water's edge. It was cold. Maybe that was why Fiona also rented wet suits for ten bucks. I got into the water and put on my mask. I put my face in the water, then immediately came out sputtering. I calmed myself down and tried to remember the lesson years ago in Thailand. Oh, yeah, blow out and the salt water will escape through that little opening by the mouthpiece but not come back in. I slowed my breathing down a bit and gliding along the water's surface.
What a disappointment! The water was too murky to see anything! I felt cheated at first. But the further I swam, the clearer the water and suddenly, looking below me I saw a sting ray. A small one, hugging the bottom, but definitely a sting ray. Okay, guy, stay where you are and I won't bother you...I swam on. I also saw some striped fish, bottom feeders too. I was getting cold so I came back to the shore.
Leo was lying on the beach reading. "How was it?" He asked, looking up from his book. "Great!" I said, knowing I would go right back in as soon as I got warm. And I did. That next time I saw beautiful blue fish. And I got further out into the water. After a few minutes I saw I was halfway to Goat Island. I wanted to go but swimming by myself made me nervous. I wasn't really afraid of the water or the fish but just the unknown. So I came back to shore. "Guess that's all for today," I said. But as I sat on my towel in the sun, I kept watching a group of people standing over by the rocks. They were all staring into the water. "I'm going to see what's what over there." I picked up my fins and mask and delicately stepped over the lava-formed rocks. When I got to the group of people, I looked down into this water passageway between two massive forms of rocks. I saw not only the beautiful blue fish but also giant snapper. "Wow," I said to a woman standing next to me. "They've been here for years," she said affectionately. I carefully slipped on the fins, sat down gently onto the rough rock, put on my mask and slid into the water. I began swimming through the passageway towards the island. Giant snapper were swimming beneath me, passing me like unhurried distracted tourists. Only I was the visitor and they were the locals. As I had swam out from the rocks I noticed the space from land to the island was much less on this side of the beach. I also saw a group of people on the rocks of the island. I kept swimming. It took me only a few minutes to get to the island. I pulled myself onto the rocks. I did it! I'm here, I cried to myself. I felt like I had completed some task I had unconsciously set for myself. Checked that off the list, I thought to myself.
Today we will rent kayaks and paddle around the bay. That's the other thing on my list. And then I will be ready to go "home." Last night Leo and I had a conversation with a young French couple. I felt obligated to explain "home." I first apologized to them about our country's behavior towards the French in the first months when we invaded Iraq. I told them I was embarrassed by it. They asked about Bush and the elections. I was having trouble explaining why almost half the votes had gone to him in both elections. (I still don't concede that he won EITHER election.) But I refuse to say that Americans are stupid. I don't think they are; they're just scared. Fear causes people to act like they're stupid, I guess.
And as for our president...I recently read a bumper sticker sent to me by a friend. It said, "Bush never exhaled..." maybe that explains it. Things are crazy. I'm ready for home.

The Malcolm and Helen Training Program

Man, were we lucky to have Malcolm and Helen with us the first three weeks. (Have I said that before?) But really, it was like having a personal driver (Mal drove the Spaceship), a personal guide (Helen chose the hikes and walks), a social director (they found the off-the-side-of-the-road places to camp for free) and, in general, shared their knowledge of New Zealand with us. But now that we're on our own, we've used our experience from the first three weeks to survive. Leo had carefully watched Malcolm manuever the spaceship on the left hand side of the road. That's why he had no trouble shifting with his left hand as he took a "round-about"out of Wellington. No trouble that is until he pulled off the main street to park the car. Bam, we hit the curb with the left front wheel and that night discovered we had a flat. With the help of two very nice Israeli guys the tire got changed, but we had to replace it in Roturura.
Besides the adventure of driving and navigating in the North Island, we've also completed the 17 km (you figure out the miles)"Best one day walk in New Zealand" called the Tongariro Crossing. We decided if we waited for perfect weather we'd miss the hike so even though there was a slight mist in the air we booked transport to the trailhead. At first I was wishing that Malcolm and Helen were with us...you know, in case we got lost... but 500people a day take this hike so we figured it had to be pretty well marked. We were very proud of ourselves for completing it in 6 1/2 hours! In fact we couldn't believe how easy* it was. Well, by easy* I mean we finished it without mishap. Near the Red Crater,an active volcanic crater, the wind got so bad we were really glad we both had our walking poles for balance ...thanks again, Malc!
The other reason we felt it was "easy" was that going down part, the steep part, wasn't that steep and they have built paths, boardwalks, switchbacks and steps to ease up the way down. We had taken the 6:30 am bus because we figured on nine hours, especially with the long going down part. When we boarded the bus for the return trip at 3 pm, the driver said to all of the hikers, "Yeah, you're early today. Everybody's early when it's so windy!" He was right; that wind just pushed us along. And it was cold enough you didn't want to dilly dally. But honestly, this hike wasn't near as challenging as the ones we went on with H & M. And even though we didn't get many views at first because of the fog, we were rewarded with a gorgeous scene as we descended the gentle path down to through the bush and then through the forest.
Last night after leaving the Tongariro National Park we tried to find a place just to pull off, like we did with H & M. But we had trouble telling which places might be free. We're on the East Cape now and there's lots of beaches but most say "No Camping." I think we're going to stick to regular campgrounds cause don't want to get into trouble with the Kiwis!

TE NAMU

The Maori name for them is Te Namu. Leo thinks they're worse pests than the Kea, the giant wild parrots that have been known to rip the rubber stripping off camper vans, (watch out Spaceship!) and saw off a side view mirror with their powerful beaks. (The other night two of these birds were playing with our tent, crying "Keeee-a" which means 'come out and play.') In my opinion Te Namu are worse that any mosquitoes in the U.S. because you can't just slap them to kill them before they bite you. You have to pulverize these little devils, the New Zealand sand flies /black flies. Actually, it's only the female of the speicies that bites. She needs blood to produce her eggs, and the four of us have donated plenty to help this species procreate. The bites start itching especially when we're in a warm place, like a sleeping bag.
"At least we don't have to worry about bears here," said Malcolm, remembering their bike ride two summers ago on the Great Divde Trail from Banff, Alberta to Antelope Wells, New Mexico, when we were lucky enough to join them for four days. But this time I don't have to sing "The bear went over the mountain" at the top of my lungs or whistle or use bear bells to scare away a black or brown furry things, because in Kiwi land the most dangerous animals are the Keas and the Te Namu.
I didn't think we'd have a chance to go biking with Malcolm and Helen on this adventure to the South Island of New Zealand, but Helen found a Rails to Trails route beginning in Clyde. It's not far from the McKenzie Region where they would like to live after moving from Perth.
Nivel, the owner of Trail Journeys, not only rented us four mountain bikes and four panniers but suggested we take his bus to Ranfurly and begin a two day, 100 kilometer trip back. He made resrvations for us in Omakau at the Commerical Hotel. Two kilometers into the trip we were all cussing Nivel.
"Maybe he has a thing against Americans."... "I don't think he liked your joking, Malcolm." ..."Maybe he's just sadistic and likes to torture cyclists." We were cycling into a terrific headwind that almost blew Helen off her bike.
"Get in line," yelled Leo above the roar of the wind. Luckily, his ankle didn't bother him to pedal, and he was a great wind screen.
After cycling for thirty kilometers through the wind and two tunnels, the sun came out and the wind dissipated. It was beautiful riding through a gorge alongside herds of sheep. We decided Nivel had a good idea after all. That night we treated ourselves to New Zealand beer and fish and chips in the bar of the hotel. It was filled with lively locals enjoying a pint and each other's company. Kiwis are just plain fun.
"What's that sign mean?" I asked the lady bartender as she poured me my pint of Speights. Above her head was a wooden plaque that said, "I.I.T.Y.W.Y.B. M. A. D., thank you" I knew it wasn't Maori but couldn't decode it. With a straight face she said, "If I tell you will you buy me a drink?" Uh, well, sure I told her. "So what's it mean?"
Then she handed me my beer and said "if I tell you will you buy mea drink." Huh?
"She just told you," Helen said, elbowing me. A few seconds later I got it. Duh.
"Okay, I owe you a drink."
Though she protested at first, she finally accepted my payment. Later as the four of us finished another game of cribbage I saw her sitting with a tall, burly bloke on the customer side of the bar. She was laughing as she ordered her second drink.
To let Leo's sprained ankle continue healing we held off on doing another long hike. Instead we signed up for an overnight boat ride to Doubtful Sound on the West Coast. We lucked out and got the last four-bunk room. After an hour of cruising we got to an arm of the Sound, and Helen and I went kayaking with about 30 other passengers and Kimmie, our guide. As we paddled following Kimmie along the water's edge near the cliffs I saw Helen pointing across the water. Water was spraying. It couldn't be surf, I thought, there weren't an waves. Then Helen, Kimmie and the others began paddling furiously towards the other side. Dolphins? Could it be? Yes, I could see three, no four, masses just beneath the surface, and occasional spouts of water as they came close to the top. Even though I'd been paddling for half an hour, adrenaline surged and my arms rapidly rotated the double paddle to propel my kayak through the water. Glorious! I'd heard of people swimming with dolphins and I knew they liked humans. For a minute I was in the middle of a herd? group? flock? of these magnificient creatures. It was a real privilege to be so close to them.
Later that evening as the boat was idling in the Tasman Sea, while all the passengers were on deck waiting for the sun to set, about ten dophins decided to put on a show for us by performing olympic-level somersaults, back flips and half twists. Then as the boat zoomed back to our overnight anchor spot, the dolphins decided to drag race with us. They are so hydro-dynamic they literally did circles around the boat.
The next morning out on the deck when I saw their sleeping bags, I asked a young couple from the Netherlands if they had spent the night out there. "No, too many black flies," the woman answered as we both stood there swatting and slapping and waving the little beasties away. "But we've been out here since five a.m.'; our bunkmate's a snorer."
Luckily, none of our group snored, or at least I hadn't heard anything that night, although Helen warned me that she might. It's amazing, actually. We two couples have know each other since 1994 but we've only spent about eight days together before this trip. And now we've spent nineteen days together traveling around the South Island in a pretty small minivan. We've gotten fantastically well. Maybe it was all that cribbage playing. More likley it was the Jack Daniels and the Shiraz wine.
We spent our final evening together exploring Christchurch. Leo and I wished our friend, biff, from Shanghai/Prague could be have there to show us around. Thursday morning we exchanged hugs and kisses and said goodbye. We'll miss Helen's planning and Malcolm's joking. We taook the transcenic train from Christchurch to Picton then rode the Interislander ferry to Wellington.
Now we'll be on our own, renting a car, learning to drive on the left side and trying to find our way up north to warmer climate and beaches. Even though we don't speak the language as well as Mal and Helen, we do our best. But we'll miss them. G'day mates. No worries.

The Malcolm and Helen Diet

In 1994 on the longest bike trip at that point we encountered a British couple outside a little general store in Eastern Washington. They were both wearing the recognizable spandex biking shorts.
"Where are you biking to?" the woman asked me.
"Oh, we're biking all the way to Glacier Park in Montana," I said, a bit proudly. "Where are you biking to?"
"Maine," Helen replied.
I gulped. "Where did you start?"
"Spain."
And that was the beginning of our long distance friendship. So here we are 13 years later in New Zealand. I don't know why the Gilbeys asked us to join them on this adventure. They had a chance to bike in Vietnam with their Perth, Australia friends. That's where they've lived for the last 10 years. Helen got her Ph.D. and runs a hip clinic and Malcolm is an outdoor education expert who teaches and writes curriculum for masters and ph.d programs. Yeah, we're a bit out of our league.
They meet us in the Christchurch airport and as we walk to the parking lot I see an orange and white painted mini-van with the words "Spaceships.com" painted on the side. I thought they were kidding when they said we would be traveling the south island of New Zealand in the spaceship. How were we all going to fit in? Where would we sleep? But when the sliding door opened I could see a stove, a bed, and on top of the van there was an attachment that looked like an extra luggage rack. At night that piece of equipment would pop open and Malcolm and Helen would run up the ladder and sleep in their "penthouse suite."
For the last twelve days we have been driving around the South Island and pulling off the road into one of the many FREE camping spots here. For example, last night we just drove down Queen's Reach road to a lovely spot next to a river, under some trees, and not far away from the toilet. We pulled out our little table, opened up our four comfy chairs, brought out the Jack Daniels and opened the fabulous Australia Shiraz, took out the cards and began our twentieth game of Cribbage. Dinner was mushroom omelet cooked by Helen with slaw fixed by Leo accompanied with fresh tomato and avacado slices.
If this sounds a little boring as far as adventures go I should add that we've already gone on numerous hikes. The first BIG one was to the top of Mount Arthur, 10 miles and 2000 ft. up. Then we did a backpack hike to Lake Angelus hut along Robert Ridge with a ten mile down Cascade trail of rock and two water falls ending in a Lord of the Rings forest hike, along a river with a water taxi to pick us up to bring us back to a campground. Unfortunately, Leo sprained his ankle on that hike but he managed to hike the 10 miles down to the taxi.
Today we are in Te Anau and will hike one and a half hours to a hut. We will camp their in our tents and then hike back. The weather is like Seattle's today, but I don't think we have to worry about rain. Friday the four of us will board a boat and travel to Doubtful Sound and then go Kayaking for the afternoon, returning the next day by boat.
We have loved staying in our spaceship, away from the crowds that congregate in the cities of Queenstown and Christchurch during summer vacation. We also love the Kiwi sense of humor and their attitude about the outdoors. What a wonderful gift these free campgrounds are...and the scenery is beautiful.
Malcolm and Helen will leave us on the 18th and then the two bumbling Americans will be on their own. We have a few plans but I don't think they include the spaceship. We'll probably head north and explore that Island. More later.