Marine Lover’s Paradise

Wellington --> Picton --> Queen Charlotte Sounds --> Kaikoura --> Blenheim --> Wellington

Second weekend in New Zealand gave me a chance to reach exploration adventures of mammoth proportions! By mammoth I mean a heart the size of a VW Beetle, and hiking tracks that go on for days and days. However with the term “weekend”, only sampling size proportions were possible. Oh well.

Queen Charlotte Sounds

First stop: Queen Charlotte Track in the northern sounds of the South Island. The entire track is 70 kms or so, usually done in 4 days. I tackled 15 kilometers (around 9 miles. Uphill. Both ways.) , and threw in the proverbial towel. I’d have to say that this was really my first big “hike”, so there were lots of new experiences… Packing all my food on back. Packing weather-change clothes. Eating for necessity every hour, drinking more frequently (all in, no out!). But long-haul hiking virgin, I am no longer!! Man it was awesome. Step one, Queen Charlotte Track. Step two, the entire Appalachian Trail! Yeah right.

15 kms down, and one beautiful coastal drive to go! Destination: Kaikoura, New Zealand

Dusky dolphins (smaller than the common or bottlenose)

This drive was one of the most scenic and gorgeous drives I have ever observed, and I hope you might someday have the opportunity to see this as well. I literally had difficulty not pulling the car off the road every 15 minutes. This town’s tourism is really the only reason I planned this trip though – the drive was simply a bonus. The tourism industry? Marine, marine, marine! Whale watching (yes, I paid the exorbitantly overpriced tourist rates), dolphin swimming (skipped this one, but was on the verge), hiking (another fur seal colony!), coastal relaxation, cold brews (definitely), just bliss.

A Three Lighthouse Weekend

Who knew New Zealand and Australia would be so busy? As the sole TA for 45 study abroad students, plus designing and teaching two 3.5 hour biology labs every week, I have been busy trying to cram in personal time. Have no fear, I have made plans for weekends on the North and South Island galore!

After the beauty of the gannets, then the soothing Art Deco town of Napier, I wandered to a NZ brewery! TUI is kind of like the Miller of the US, complete with lots of funny advertisements in the form of “yeah right” slogans on everything from billboards to buses:

Summer is more than just beers, BBQ’s and bikinis. Yeah right.

I was reading her t-shirt. Yeah right.

I want to hear all about your day. Yeah right.

I’m really keen to see your mother again. Yeah right.

Beer doesn’t really go with that. Yeah right.

It’s getting too cold for beer. Yeah right.

This is just the beginning!

My first weekend in New Zealand I found myself with a rental car cruising the North Island. You have already had the pleasure of reading the many farces and many first (unnatural) moments of left-side driving (PS- The steering wheel is on the right side too...) with curbs hopped and windshield wipers turned on every 5 minutes. Silly, exhausting, and SO well worth it.

View from on the trailor

Friday morning I drove like lightning from Wellington to Cape Kidnappers (rental car company “forgot” to pick me up Friday morning!) to see the world’s largest gannet colony (it is a bird, by the way). I arrived just in the nick of time to catch my tractor trailor coastal tour along the South Pacific. An hour and a half tractor and trailor pull down the Cape Kidnappers coastline yielded a several “get out and walk” moments to lighten the load as we got massively stuck between rocks and sand (and birdshit). I'd like to think this was the fault of the drivers, and not the overindulgence of any passengers...

Stay Left, Look Right

Here is the summary of my first 3-day driving adventure on the opposite side of the road:

(Number of times…)

2: Honked at and/or flipped off for driving slow in the fast lane. They are switched.
3: Turned into the wrong lane. Obviously switched.
3: Curbs hopped. Oops!
4: Attempts to get in on the passenger side of the car to drive.
25 or more: Turned on the windshield wipers instead of the blinker. Switched too.
Every single time: Reached with left hand to put on seat belt. Came up empty every time.

I don’t know how many of you have had this joyous experience, but it is one that leaves you very uncertain at all turns. And there is always the extremely menacing feeling of a car traveling directly at you in your lane, but it is actually in the correct “right” lane. Oh man.

Now I just look left and right at least 5 times before turning or even crossing...

Picture below was written on the blackboard by the program director to the students (and staff!) for their first weekend away. By the end of the day it had been partially erased, resulting in my (mock) motto for the Pacific!

The Book of Kiwi

And so I have begun my trip to the other side of the world in the wonderful South Pacific!

There is a saying amongst New Zealanders of their country: “God’s own.” It only took me about one week before I was sure of my thoughts on that reference: Yep, I agree. My first thoughts upon stepping off the plane in Wellington were (after thinking I would need about 5 more coffees to make it through the time difference…), “Oh man, pinch me again!” I have stopped pinching myself and have fully settled in to the luscious surroundings and relaxed culture. I am getting used to this in a hurry.

New Zealand is a small country made up of 2 islands, which they have skillfully named the North Island and South Island. I am living in Wellington, the capital of New Zealand, located at the southern tip of the North Island. Wellington has a very special climate in the world; it is pretty much the first city that interferes with the winds blowing off from the Antarctic. Yes. Special indeed. And chilly, particularly by the summer season!

No worries, I have managed a weekend trip or two in shorts and tank tops, reappearing with pink cheeks!  Summertime in the southern hemisphere – this is awesome.

All of my previous moves overseas have involved foreign languages, so this English-speaking land is a delight. One small snag though… I have this association of “foreign country = foreign language,” which in the past has predominantly been French. To my delight I find I am transcribing my thoughts and phrases into French. Every time someone answers a phone, I expect to hear, “Bonjour!,” and I read and french pronounce random words to myself. HA! Not so much… However, there is a strong presence of the founding tribes of New Zealand, the Maori, and the culture is strong and present here, not stifled as in so many lands, including the US. I am learning much more than just the European-based Kiwi society.

Lake Hawea

My work here is much busier than I had predicted, but I do have 3-day weekends. every. single. weekend. hot damn! Basically I put in ~45 hours per week in 4 days, then take off for 3 days and leave it all behind, exploring all the nooks and crannies of NZ by foot, boat, car, ferry… Right now it is a busy and lovely way to live!

Lake Matheson and Mount Cook

I have more pictures for you all than I can organize currently, but expect wildlife and beautiful scenery soon!
A short “PS” to thank all of those that helped me move out of Atlanta, which was a huge feat: Mom, Rob S, Mike R, Bruno F, Michael McD. I could not have done it without you guys, mentally or physically.

Free Hugs Day

One year ago I wrote a short blog post on hugging people and the need to hug more (click here to read).  At that time I had never heard of Juan Mann or read articles on him.  Maybe you haven’t either…  Basically he’s just a guy that noticed a bunch of unhappiness in his world, and he’s been making a conscious effort towards change.  He started in his hometown, Sydney, Australia, where he made a big cardboard sign that had two words:

“FREE HUGS”

He held it up high, and waited for someone, anyone, to approach him.  He literally just hugged people.  He’s been hugging people since at least 2004, and has made his campaign and view know to the world.  Oprah even had him on the show – you know that’s big!

He did the offering, and he found out quickly how receptive and in need so many people were/are.  He just wanted to put a smile on a stranger’s face.  Here is one of his stories:

“So I got some cardboard and a marker and made a sign. I found the busiest pedestrian intersection in the city and held that sign aloft, with the words "Free Hugs" on both sides.

And for 15 minutes, people just stared right through me. The first person who stopped, tapped me on the shoulder and told me how her dog had just died that morning. How that morning had been the one year anniversary of her only daughter dying in a car accident. How what she needed now, when she felt most alone in the world, was a hug. I got down on one knee, we put our arms around each other and when we parted, she was smiling.”

The last of the last

I can’t hide it any longer--- I am now back in the States in home-sweet-home Atlanta!!!!!!  Thankfully the flight adventures coming home were non-existent compared to the chaos on the way over. (whew!) Lyon to London – just dandy, even if they saw metal in my bags, yet couldn’t locate it, let me walk through with my shoes on, and finally just said whatever and have a great flight…

I had some time to kill in the London-Heathrow airport, so I strolled through the Duty Free shops.  They were offering full-size drink samples – you should have seen the line for martinis at 8:45 in the morning (yes, I was in line…).  On the flight from London to New York, my dinner options consisted of “Butt of Chicken” or “Lamb Cottage Pie”.  I was so torn… 

Once I landed in NYC, the marvel of Customs and Immigration was before me - Customs took my chicken sandwich and grapes, wouldn’t even let me step outside the barriers to consume it, but curiously missed the ridiculously strong French cheese smell dispersing through the air from my luggage.  I guess we all have our tendencies to see (and smell) what we want to or expect?...  And apparently (and fortunately!) I don’t look or smell like cheese.

As much as I have enjoyed writing to everyone, it is time to wrap-it up; my ramblings can only continue for so long!  I've had so many magnificent days and nights this summer that I hope to never forget.    Thank you all for allowing me the opportunity to take you on this journey with me; I hope very much that you have enjoyed seeing a summer in France through my eyes.  I appreciated every letter, email and note I received – thank you all mille fois!

To end, I offer you:

A few things I learned this summer…

• It is not advisable to buy 8 pounds of green peppers in one week at the market, particularly when they are to be consumed by only one person during that week.

• It is difficult to eat 8 pounds of green peppers in one week and continue to like them after the first 3 days.

• Constantly switching between American and French keyboards is a pain in the butt for the fingertips and the mind.

• No matter how many times I use a hand-held shower head, and of course without shower curtains b/c they are not the norm in Europe, I will inevitably flood the floor… Every.  Single.  Night.

• A flooded floor takes approximately 3 days to dry, unassisted.  Turning on the bathroom radiator and shutting the door reduces the time to only 1 day.

• Butter is appropriate to add to anything edible.

• “Happy hour” translates the same in all languages.

• Drinking too much at a bar happens occasionally.  Leaving a bar at 3am is fine.  Hopping on a rented bicycle at 3am after leaving the bar is fine too. Riding on the handlebars of a bike at 3am after leaving a bar and having drank too much is… not a good idea unless you want to crash!

• Don’t eat yogurt for breakfast.

• Don’t rely on businesses, TV shows or newspapers to continue to operate during the summer months, especially August.  Europeans take vacation for months on end, and literally just close their doors.  I went through 3 morning talk shows and 2 newspapers in just 2.5 months!  Show is off the air, filled by home shopping channels instead, and newspapers aren’t in print for all of July, or August, or both!  Even the bar 500 feet from my apartment closed for 1.5 months. Finally I settled on watching the Berenstain Bears while eating breakfast in the morning.

• A person can indeed survive without a cell phone or home phone for 2.5 months.  Helps to have internet access to maintain sanity, however…

I could go on and on…  some of these require no explanation whatsoever.  Others, well, it depends on how well I know you… ;)

It has been my pleasure...Jessie