Week 13: North!

How strange; a few short days ago I was on the other side of the world. The even stranger thing is that I don’t need to worry about catching a bus to a new city, I don’t have twenty kilos of gear on my back, kebab is no longer an option for lunch (or breakfast, or dinner), and the strangest of all: I am now at home, sitting in my old room, at my old desk, looking out my old window, and nothing around me has changed. It’s almost as if New Zealand was a dream that I quite suddenly woke from.

And what a dream it was. Adventure, intrigue, new people, new places, late nights, early mornings, from howling wind and adrenaline to total, beautiful, silence… I can’t wait to do it all again. People call it “getting bit by the travel bug;” that’s a pretty accurate description of what’s happened to me. The next trip could be Chile….or Australia….or any of the myriad of other places I’d like to go and see. But not yet; right now it just feels too good to be home.

But I digress; I have a story to finish.

Our ferry to Wellington left at 10:30AM, and we were supposed to turn in our car in Picton at 10:00AM. This wouldn’t have been a problem…except for the fact that I told Ryan that it only takes an hour to get from Nelson to Picton, when in reality it takes closer to two. I had only made that drive once before and I could have sworn an hour was all it took. Then again, I may have napped a bit in the back seat that one time. Regardless, we got a very late start, and as master driver it was up to Ryan to make up the time. To Ryan’s credit, he pushed that little Nissan to its very limits, putting on a show that would have impressed Dale Earnhardt. We arrived in Picton at 10:25; the ferry hadn’t left yet so I still had hope. I dashed into the ferry terminal, laden down with all of my things, only to find that boarding had stopped at 10:15. So even though we made it before the boat had left, we still missed it. The lady behind the counter took pity on us though: she saw us carrying all of our gear, breathing hard and wondering what to do next, and she put us on the next ferry to Wellington, which left at 1:00PM. She didn’t even charge us for it.

After killing a few hours walking around town, checking email, and filling up on baked goodness from a famous local bakery in town, we boarded the Interislander ferry. Ryan promptly found the bar, bought the first round (the drinks were actually cheaper on the boat than they were on the mainland), and we toasted the south island goodbye, vowing to return. The remainder of the four hour ferry ride was spent writing blogs, sipping beer, eating disappointing lasagna, and (who am I kidding) playing computer games. I have always been a gamer, and in this case they pass the time quite nicely. And as I hadn’t had my game fix for the last three months, it was quite enjoyable to simply exist in my little nerd world for a few hours.

After a while we ventured to the upper deck to have a look around. The boat was just pulling into Wellington harbor. Upon seeing Wellington, the following exchange took place between Ryan and I:

Me: “Wow, a real city! I didn’t think they had those here.”

Ryan: “I know, right? It’s so weird to see skyscrapers again.”

As luck would have it, our friend Tony was also in Wellington that night, so we made plans to check into the same hostel he was in. Luckily we found him (the hostel was the size of a small hotel), so we bought some food and drink at the grocery store, came back to the hostel, made dinner, and spent the evening swapping stories. He had quite a few, but for the most part it sounded like Ryan and I had a far better time than Tony did: what ruined it for him was the people he ended up traveling with. We all agreed that Tony should have come with Ryan and I; truthfully the only reason why he didn’t was because he wanted to work an extra week past when Ryan and I finished. Oh well, live and learn. Sadly, Tony flew back to the states the next morning, so that was the last time Ryan and I saw him.

I think in both of our minds, once we got to Wellington, it was the beginning of the end of our trip. The vast majority of the things that we both wanted to see and do we had done on the south island at one time or another, and so the moment we checked into our hostel, it was like we were counting down the days till we flew out. I take that back; Ryan was going to be in New Zealand for two more weeks after me, so he had more on his mind and more time to fill. We only spent two nights in Wellington, so the day Tony left was the only full day we had there. I learned from the guidebook that taking a tour of the Parliament buildings was free, and since they were only a couple blocks from our hostel, we did that first. While on the tour, I realized that I had never seen the inside of the US Senate or US House of Representatives chambers; when I went to Washington DC as an eighth grader it was within six months of 9-11, and the entire city was still locked down. New Zealand is pretty liberal when it comes to public buildings: because they are maintained with taxpayer money, they belong to the public, and therefore the public is allowed to enter without too much fuss or security. One of the things that I will always remember about New Zealand was how willing people were to trust you, and how easy that made traveling there. It was really quite refreshing; I hope that never changes.

After Parliament, we went to the Te Papa Museum. Since it was technically a government building, there was free entry as well. The museum itself is much like The Exploratorium in San Francisco, in that much of it is focused on the natural world: much of it was devoted to the wildlife and geothermal character of New Zealand. The crown jewel of this collection however had to be the giant squid. You heard me. A kiwi fishing rig off Antarctica got their hands on a full grown, live, giant squid: the boat was deep sea fishing and happened to hook a fish that this giant squid also had its eye on, and the squid decided not to let go as it was being reeled in. So after about two years of research and preservation the four meter squid is under glass and on display in the Te Papa Museum.

While the bottom floor was devoted to the flora and fauna of New Zealand, the top floors of the museum was devoted to telling the story of New Zealand’s history, from the arrival of the first Maoris, to the Treaty of Waitangi, to the woman’s suffrage and gay rights movements of modern history. I may have mentioned this before, but kiwis are very proud of their history and Maori heritage; it truly has become part of their national identity. The museum had a very large, beautiful collection of Maori artifacts: everything from jewelry and old weapons to a full sized war canoe.

We spent a lot of the day at the Te Papa Museum since the weather wasn’t great. One of the things Wellington is known for are the gale-force winds that can pick up at a moment’s notice, and today was one of those days where that happened a lot. We couldn’t spend all day there though, we needed to at the very least get to an iSite and buy our bus tickets to Taupo. Afterwards though, we just went back to our hostel, picked up some sushi on the way there (it was half price since it was after 4:00pm), and watched movies in the hostel. Ryan was especially keen to save money at this point, he had plans to spend a week of his remaining time on a beach in Fiji, and so he needed to buy another plane ticket.

According to the news reports, the weather for the entire north island was going to be crap for the next week, and that’s exactly what we saw when we got pulled into Taupo the next day. However, Ryan and I were both completely dry by the time we reached the hostel, thanks to a shopping spree at the Columbia Sportswear company store we both took before we left the states; one of the sayings that Ryan and I coined on the trip was “In Gert we trust,” and it was used quite frequently. Luckily, in the days following, the weather did break, and we did manage to pick a beautiful day to hike out to Hukka Falls and check out the public hot springs along the way.

There was one last thing I wanted to do in New Zealand, and it could be done out of Taupo. While working, I had heard stories of a hike called Tongariro Alpine Crossing, which is a one day hike through Tongariro National Park. The hike takes you through an active geothermal zone, going in between two large active magma cones: Mt. Tongariro and Mt. Ngauruhoe, and along the rim of an active crater. I was sold on this the moment I heard about it: challenging hike, beautiful views, and active volcanoes; what else could an outdoorsy guy ask for? We needed to wait for a good day though, the bus to the trailhead wouldn’t run if the weather was too poor, and there had been wind and rain issues lately. We actually waited in Taupo for four days waiting for good weather; I didn’t care, I was willing to spend less time in Auckland so I would get a chance to do this.

In retrospect, it might have been a better idea to save Tongariro Crossing for when I come back to New Zealand in the summer. Never before had I experienced wind chill that brought the ambient temperature below zero. The wind chill was combined with light rain, which turned it into freezing spray. Ice covered the trail, the rocks, us, etc., making some of the ridges we had to traverse quite treacherous. Again, thanks to Gert we were well prepared for this weather, but that didn’t change the fact that it made Tongariro less of a pleasant hike and more of a man vs. mountain endurance test. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still glad I did it; once we got to the other face of the mountain the weather cleared up and it was warm again, and I did get some really spectacular photos, but I am definitely going to go back because the trail has so much more to offer when the weather is good: if you get an early enough start, you can actually summit Mt. Ngauruhoe or Mt. Tongariro and still make the bus. I’m told that on a clear day, you can see both the Pacific Ocean and the Tasman Sea from the top. Sold.

After we got back from Tongariro, we needed to buy one more bus ticket to get to Auckland, my last stop. However, the iSite was closed for the night, so we were out of luck. While contemplating our next move, the guy who worked the front desk at our hostel gave us an idea:

“Why not hitchhike to Auckland? It would be one last adventure.”

We had met other people in our travels that successfully hitchhiked in New Zealand, so it was certainly possible, though I confess that I was dubious that it would work because there were two of us and we each had a lot of gear. After about five minutes deliberation, Ryan and I decided to go for it, what the hell, it could be fun. The next morning, we packed up, checked out, found a good location on the side of the road, and held out our sign. And then we waited.

In the middle of our third game of I-Spy, only eleven minutes after we held out the sign (Ryan was timing it on his watch), we got picked up! The two kiwi guys were flying out of Auckland to go to a poker tournament in Brisbane, and agreed to drop us off at the airport. We took a commuter train into town and checked into our final hostel. I’m actually a little miffed at how easy it was to hitchhike, maybe we just got incredibly lucky, or maybe New Zealand is the most hitchhiker friendly nation in the world. It might be a little of both: we bought the guys lunch to say thank you, since they wouldn’t let us help with petrol…err…gas.

We only had two full days in Auckland. The first day Ryan and I had separate agendas, so he went off and took care of some logistical stuff for his Fiji trip (he was flying to Fiji the same day I was flying home), while I walked into Parnell (Auckland’s hipster-artsy district) and met a friend for lunch. While I was working for Gallo in California, my boss mentioned that she had a sister living and working in Auckland and put us in touch. I had a really great time meeting and talking to her; she actually invited me to go fishing with her and some of her coworkers out in Auckland harbor that Saturday, but I was flying out Friday morning. I told her that I would take her up on that when I came back; my list of things to do was slowly growing.

The next day we went and saw the Auckland War Memorial Museum. This was one of the things that both Ryan and I were looking forward to the most. The museum itself was similar to Te Papa, in that much of it was devoted to the natural world and to the country’s Maori heritage, but different in that the entire top floor was devoted to telling the story of New Zealand soldiers in war across history and across the world; after all, this was, first and foremost, a war memorial. As I mentioned earlier, kiwis are very proud of their history and heritage, and that pride extends to their soldiers and their involvement in the world’s conflicts as well. It was one of the best and most moving war exhibits I have ever seen; the artifacts on display there were fascinating, but I think it was the atmosphere in the exhibit which really made it memorable. Sometimes you just have to be there.

After spending a good five hours at the museum we walked back to our hostel, detouring to the Auckland University campus to eat lunch with the students and reminisce about our crazy college days. Auckland University is very much an international school, so we fit right in with the rest of the student body. I might look into graduate school there actually; Auckland strikes me as a really great place to live more than a place to visit.

And so my glorious misadventure in New Zealand ended. After some souvenir shopping I grabbed dinner (one final kebab), went back to my room, hung out with Ryan, and tried to get some sleep. A few hours later, I packed up my things and hopped on the airport shuttle. The trip home seemed far shorter than my trip there, which I am only partially thankful for: It was great to get home, but I met a really cool woman on my flight from Brisbane to Los Angeles, and it would have been great to get to know her a bit better. Oh well, that’s what email is for. Regardless, I landed in Portland in good spirits, and gave my parents a great big hug when I saw them. I was home.

To all of my readers who have never bore witness the splendor that is New Zealand: You are truly missing out. Be jealous of my trip, if that’s what it takes to inspire you to find an excuse to come out here. If you are working a dead end temp job, save money and work toward this. If you do have a great job, then save your money and come here on vacation. For the rest of you, find a way to get here. Come with an open mind and be ready for adventure, if you do that you will have the time of your life.

To all my new friends: I sincerely hope our paths cross again in the future. I have truly enjoyed working with you and getting to know all of you over barbecues, beers, wine, shots of Jamison, late night Mackers or Fergberger, zucchini bread, or some interesting combination of all of them. The place is only as good as the people you know there, and you guys made the trip for me. Best of luck to all of you, and take care. Until we meet again.

The End? Not a chance.

-DK