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exumenius

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Kiwis and Kangaroos

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Last Night in New Zealand - Night 116

Christchurch, New Zealand

My last day in New Zealand and a gorgeous

The World Croquet Championships
one at that; mid 80s and not a cloud in the sky. I walked down to Hagley Park, a massive collection of soccer fields, botanical gardens, tennis courts, a golf course and numerous other playfields. Quite luckily I stumbled upon the World Croquet Championships. I’ve always wondered if these strange sports like this actually have competitive events, and the answer appears to be yes, yes they do. I cringe a bit at labeling this a sport…old men in white shorts, high socks and stupid blazers whacking around colored balls hardly qualifies as athletics in my book. But there were spectators, all eight of them and the average age was 75. Today was the second of nine days of competition. Nine days of watching croquet, simply unbelievable. I tried to make it nine minutes…I lasted about ninety seconds. Nonetheless, while all of you schmucks in America were getting ready for the Super Bowl, I was at the World Croquet Championships. Eat your hearts out.


The Avon River

After the excitement of croquet, I decided to take it easy in the afternoon. Laundry and minimizing my domestic situation (throwing stuff away) occupied most of the rest of the day. As I had to wake up at 4am for my airport shuttle, my night lasted until about 8:30, when I gladly lay down in my quiet, single room and slept like a log.

What I Learned Today: After 114 days of shared accommodation, a small 80 square foot room to myself felt as large and comfortable as the Palace of Versailles.


permalink written by  exumenius on February 3, 2008 from Christchurch, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Al's Bar - Night 115

Christchurch, New Zealand

Honestly, I didn’t do a whole lot today. The morning was spent updating journal entries and trying to get photos to upload to the internet. I’ll be very happy once I’m back in Australia where the web operates at above

The Center of the City
phone modem speeds. In the afternoon I wandered down to the Canterbury museum, which turned out to be just like the other major museums in Auckland and Wellington; a few rooms of Maori art, some Greenstone artifacts, a section on seafaring and a mock street scene from the 1890s. I suppose there really isn’t much history in a country that only been settle for 700 years, and Anglicized just 150 years ago. If you sense a pervading tilt of negativity in my prose today, I would acquiesce to that supposition. I’ve sort of come to the end of the road in New Zealand and am ready to move on….but first Al’s Bar.

Nikos, one of the volunteers from my Wellington days arrived in town today, so I made plans to meet him and a few of his new volunteer friends out for a drink. While having a few drinks at the hostel beforehand I befriended my roommate, Karla, from Newfoundland. As later this week Karla is headed to Antarctica for 13 months of cultural artifact preservation, she was keen to spend one last night amongst civilization and agreed to come along. We also met Richie, from England, who had developed a thirst on his flight in today and thus we were rolling down to Al’s Bar three deep.


dDub at Al's Bar
On tap at Al’s was dDub, a local band. I thought that cover charge was a bit steep ($20) for someone I had never heard of, but then again, I don’t know any Kiwi bands so the price likely indicated their popularity. The place was full, but not overly-packed and we had no problem eventually working our way up to the front. The best way to classify dDub’s sound is that it is like Sublime, but without any drug or prostitution references. The leader singer looked like a healthy Keith Richards, the bass player a dead ringer for Cousin Boerst, and a good looking blonde girl in a fedora played the flute. Karla thought the sound could be considered Calypso…not knowing the definition of Calypso music (nor the spelling) I was in no position to refute her theory.

What I Learned Today: I may have some sort of illness. At the bar, listening to live music and steadily drinking I found myself thinking about spatially weighted hedonic modeling.


permalink written by  exumenius on February 2, 2008 from Christchurch, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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New Brighton Beach - Night 114

Christchurch, New Zealand

Finally February. January was one of the longest and shortest months of my life. At times I forgot what day of the week it was and days passed by in seconds, other afternoons seemed to drag on for weeks. Unencumbered by duties and appointments, by meetings and deadlines, by any semblance of structure time begins to take on a novel dimension. Sometimes you wonder what you are doing, what you are accomplishing, but then you have to remember that you are living, learning and experiencing and, honestly, why shouldn’t that just be enough for awhile?


New Brighton Pier

The morning hinted at a beautiful day ahead so I put on my walking shoes and hiked it for 90 minutes out to the New Brighton Beach. Crossing through numerous small neighborhoods and subdivisions along the way I couldn’t help but be reminded of how young New Zealand is. Nearly all of the development here is post WWII, low density, ranch homes. Makes for a monotonous stroll, to say the least. The crowning achievement of New Brighton is the large pier that juts out in to the sea for many tens of meters. Attached to this (on land) is the public library and a bar…in the same building. Whoever the ingenious architect/planner of this multi-use structure was ought to be given a medal. Seriously, what a great combination. All in one place you can go fishing, check out a book, read the paper and order a stiff one at 9am on a Friday morning. It came as no surprise that this was one of the busiest public libraries I have ever seen.

The New Brighton neighborhood is a bit of a


New Brighton Beach
retirement area, holding homes of the wealthy ex-lawyers, doctors, and filthy real estate developers. You might think this would lend to an overall lack of excitement, but to the contrary, I find these septuagenarian zones quite humorous. Old men in electric chairs and funny hats beeping at old women trying futilely to parallel park along the boulevard. Dementia runs rampart, resulting in a rash of one sided conversations. Today’s winner was an old man in full Lederhosen outfit (plus a helmet) riding a bike down the pier (No Biking Allowed) balancing a fishing pole across the handlebars and smoking a cigarette. I can only hope I’ll have this much soul when I hit 70.


The Canterbury Art Gallery
Because I am an incredibly cultured individual (or maybe because entrance was free) I took to the halls of the Canterbury Art Gallery in the afternoon. Quite surprisingly, I wasn’t disappointed. A number of the themed rooms were actually interesting and the total volume of ridiculous modern art trash – like the pile of cardboard boxes that was supposed to represent someone’s repressed childhood – were kept to a minimum. Now if art weren’t so damned expensive as I actually found some pieces I wouldn’t mind hanging in my place…had a I place.

What I Learned Today: Having butter in a hostel kitchen is much like having a lighter at a party. Translation: it is good way to get girls to talk to you.


permalink written by  exumenius on February 1, 2008 from Christchurch, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Terra Antarcticus - Night 113

Christchurch, New Zealand


The Cathedral
I slept deep and late despite the apparent seizure the kid in the bunk above me had at numerous occasions throughout the night (I awoke briefly as the bunk shook like a washing machine a few times, but fell immediately back to sleep). After this trip is over, I am certainly I’ll likely slumber straight through the apocalypse…given that white rider of death arrives at night. Such is my ability to ignore strange noises and commotion from crazy roommates. All bragging aside, I didn’t do much in the morning with the exception of gathering supplies for the rest of my journey. Never before in my life have I actually realized how long things like toothpaste and deodorant last, until now.


International Antarctic Center

In the afternoon I jumped a bus out to the International Antarctic Center. As Christchurch is the closest large city to Antarctica so New Zealand, Italy, and the United States all base their Antarctic research operations out of this large campus located adjacent to the airport. Quite obviously, the actual American operations are off-limits to civilians; however, the New Zealanders have built a large tourist trap/museum on site. Part historical, part interactive it houses nearly everything you could ever wish to know about the white continent. Presented through a variety of mediums, the three hours I spent there went by in a flash. One of


Inside the Antarctic Center
the main attractions is a ‘blizzard room’ in which they bundle you up in a large coat and boots and drop the temperature to -10 Fahrenheit, with a wind chill of -20 F. When I told the operator that I would pass, he asked why. Naturally, I told him that I had grown up in the Midwestern United States and a -20 wind chill was nothing new to me. He just laughed. On the bus trip back, I found out from the driver that just two days ago, a man from Colorado had been on who was departing to Antarctica to run a research project at the South Pole for 13 months. I imagine it would be hell going through a six-month night, but secretly adventures like this call to me. We must all possess some preternatural desire to push the limits, to strike off into the unknown…I guess some people have learned how to quell theirs, for mine pulls at me with increasing fury.

What I Learned Today: Too much about Antarctica to even remember, so you’ll have to settle for an interesting tidbit of hometown pride. The head of the 2007 U.S. team based at the new South Pole Research Center is Jerry Marty, hailing from Wisconsin.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 31, 2008 from Christchurch, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Onwards to Christchurch - Night 112

Christchurch, New Zealand

Overnight the clouds had rolled in, making today ideal for riding a bus. Leaving Tekapo around 9am, we made Christchurch by 1pm and after a brief city tour I was all checked into the Stonehurst Accommodation by 2. Two of my roommates at Stonehurst are from the Yukon, that small, triangular shaped Canadian province bordering Alaska. Now’s that the middle of nowhere.

I spent the afternoon wandering around


Some Church
this city of 300,000. Much of the downtown consists of wonderfully restored 2 and 3-story Victorian buildings, every so often interrupted by a much taller modern, steel and glass structure. Parks and public squares abound, including Hagley Park, the fourth largest urban park in the world.
In the evening I met Kathi, one of my fellow volunteers from Wellington for a few drinks at the Iconic, an empty, over-priced bar near my hostel. She is heading on to Dunedin tomorrow and eventually down to the Kepler Track, so luckily I was able to trade her some of my backcountry cooking gear for a drink at the bar. A pretty slow day as I was exhausted from the three days of hiking at Mt. Cook.


Chess in Cathedral Square

What I Learned Today: New Zealand must have some flexible zoning laws. All throughout this land I’ve seen some strange business combinations; a souvenir shop and bakery (Invercargill) and a tobaccoist/knife retailer/barber (Dunedin), but Smoko’s Lunches and Used Cars here in Christchurch takes the cake. Has anyone ever said, “Honey, let’s go get some pastrami sandwiches and maybe pick up a 04’ Subaru while we are at it”? Do you really want the guy from behind the deli counter selling you a car, or vice versa?


permalink written by  exumenius on January 30, 2008 from Christchurch, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Last Day at Mt. Cook - Night 111

Lake Tekapo, New Zealand

On my third and final day in Mt. Cook I

One of the Swingbridges
begrudgingly opted for the popular Hooker Glacier Trail. Only a three hour round trip, the hike was certainly worth it with two large swing bridges and an iceberg filled lake lying at the feet of New Zealand’s highest peak. The downfall of this trail is the volume of people on it. Most small groups, couples and solo hikers follow accepted trail etiquette; however, the large groups of guided Japanese tourists are truly a menace. Stopping every five feet take a photo of another rock or another stream, they constantly clog the trail with their seemingly total lack of wherewithal. I suppose in some sick karmic sense this is but the beginning of our payback for dropping the bomb all those years ago…damn you Harry.


The Hooker Valley

The weather was absolutely fabulous for the fifth or sixth day in a row (I’ve lost count), though one could tell that the west coast wasn’t faring as well. All day long clouds literally rolled over the dividing range and then instantaneously dissipated into the dry air on this, the leeward, side of the mountains. The sky on this side remained cloudless all day. My shuttle bus arrived promptly at 4pm and with only two us on the return trip, I rode shotgun opposite the ever-informative Allen, owner of the company. Jacques, a chain smoking Frenchman in his 40s, sat quietly in the back vigorously shaking and humming to himself to combat his lack of nicotine on the 90 minute drive.

The Tekapo YHA was full so I was forced


Mt. Cook across Lake Pukaki
into staying at the Tailor Made Backpackers just up the hill. The desk worker/mechanic/maid was an old man who didn’t quite have both oars in the water, if you know what I mean, but was friendly enough. Not the greatest looking place I’ve stayed, the comfortable, non-bunk beds made up for the shabby exterior. After the sun finally went down (around 10pm) I trespassed onto the newly developing subdivision next door to avoid the street lights in order to get a good view of the stars. As evidenced by the observatory on Mt. David nearby, the Tekapo region is known for its clear, dry, and dark sky. It didn’t disappoint. The Milky Way, Orion, the Southern Cross and a host of other constellations I cannot identify were lit up like Amy Winehouse at happy hour. I manage to get lost in revelry for about an hour before the wind brought a chill that sent me back to the hostel.

What I Learned Today: The sheer number of satellites crossing the night sky is mind blowing.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 29, 2008 from Lake Tekapo, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Up the Tasman Valley - Night 110

Twizel, New Zealand


A Silhouette of Determination
I set off early this morning headed for the Tasman Glacier and the Ball Hut trail. Since it was 10 kilometers (6.3 miles) from the hostel to the trail head I was counting on the good graces of fellow drivers down the dead end road. In less words, I needed to hitch a ride there and back if I wanted to keep my walking down to a manageable level. After a few Ks, I crossed the bridge over the small, gray creek and was offered a ride by a Norwegian man and his South African partner. One thing I’ve noticed is that all of the Kiwis and Aussies as well as most of the European couples I’ve met, whether married or not, refer to their significant other simply as their ‘partner.’ After dropping me off at the trailhead they mentioned that they would be leaving at 2:30 and that I was more than welcomed to a ride back to town.

The Ball Hut trail is composed primarily of


The Dirty Glacier and the Dirty Lake
an old four wheel drive track that hugs the outside, bottom edge of the five mile long lateral moraine of the Tasman Glacier. Hundreds of feet high in places (with the glacier actually an additional hundred or so feet below on the other side), the moraine itself would pass for a mountain range in the Midwest. The unfortunate side of this was that the first 60% of the trail offered no views of the glacier…but a certain amount of shade and protection from the winds that whip down the valley. Every so often the track had been rebuilt as an avalanche of snow and rock had screamed down the mountain erasing everything in its track. About halfway down the trail I met two hikers, one of whom recognized the UW-Stevens Point shirt I was wearing and stopped to talk to me. As it turns out, she is a senior at Lawrence in Appleton down here on a semester abroad. Yeah, yeah…small world, but I’ve learned that a long time ago, in fact the book I just finished, Six Degrees, by Duncan Watts, explains t

The Ball Hut
his very phenomenon in explicit mathematical and sociological detail (my wearing of the Point t-shirt is a vague example of broadcasting or, rather, a refined network search).

Anyways, two and half hours after leaving the


Gazing into the Tasman Valley
carpark I reached the Ball Hut, a small, unglorified shed perched on the edge of the moraine. The views from here are breathtaking, but it is the sounds that actually blow your mind. For starters, little to no human sounds at all, save the occasional scenic airplane flight high above Mt. Cook (and the Irish couple who was also having lunch at the hut, but they were fairly quiet). All the noise hears comes in the forms of loud cranks, booms, and rock falls as the glacier slowly advances down the valley. You can actually hear it moving…simply amazing. One sits in physical geography class and learns about terminal and lateral moraines, glacier till, striations, hanging valleys and the like, but none of it really sinks in until you sit on the edge of two hundred foot high lateral moraine and listen to miles and miles of moving ice actually sculpt a valley.


Wicked Clouds

A note about the Tasman Glacier: the lower five miles or so of it are coated with 3-5 feet of rocks that fall from the moraines, giving it a dirty appearance instead of the white and blue one comes to expect with a glacier. On the way back I stopped off at waterfall and let the cold water pour down over me. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, and when the wind ceased to blow it was damned hot in the valley, despite being just feet from so much ice. Upon returning to the carpark I managed to catch the Irish couple from the trail just leaving in their van. They too graciously gave me a ride back to the town, in fact, they went so far as to drop me off right at my hostel. There is certain code of ethics among travelers and I’ve greatly benefitted from it today. My turn to repay will likely come sooner than later…keep that great karmic wheel turning in my favor.

What I Learned Today: There is a strange friendliness dynamic that occurs on hiking trails that, after some rationalization, I’ve come to find is a bit like life in a microcosm. When hiking along a deserted trail, if you happen to meet someone you almost always stop to talk to them. At some point as the trail becomes busier you are reduced to a simple hello or headnod. Again, at another subjective increase in volume it becomes acceptable to completely ignore the numerous passer-bys. Life is like this, depending on the size of the city, town or village you are in.

permalink written by  exumenius on January 28, 2008 from Twizel, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Chilling in Tekapo - Night 108

Lake Tekapo, New Zealand

There are a number of good day hikes in the

The Observatory
Tekapo region; however, disappointingly the traffic is so slight that no commercial services provide transport to them. Consequently, I was reduced to tramping on the short, nearby observatory hill hike. Rising straight out of town, the trail climbs upward for about 35 minutes before emerging from the trees to the balding top of the hill. Up here, the University of Canterbury has constructed a large observatory complex to take advantage of the dry clear air and the lack of light pollution in this relatively unpopulated area. Most of the buildings are off-limits to visitors; however, a small café sits amidst the domed structures offering food and drinks at exorbitantly high prices. The views of the town and the lake, which are free, are spectacular and well worth the climb. The way back down takes a swooping curve along the lake, lengthening the whole walk to about three hours.


The Little Town of Tekapo

After lunch, I did laundry and spared my skin some UVs by hanging out in the lounge and catching up on some academic reading and email contacts. In the late afternoon I took an off-the-trail hike down what used to be the main channel draining Lake Tekapo (which has now been reduced to a trickle due to most of the excess water being pumped down the canal to Lake Pukaki in order to power the hydroplants downstream). I caught a glimpse of a few 8-inch trout that appeared to be rainbows along the way. It was a calm night, as the hostel was filled primarily with old couples and Chinese girls.

What I Learned Today: If I had to do the South Island again I would rent a car.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 26, 2008 from Lake Tekapo, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Up the Waitaki Valley - Night 107

Lake Tekapo, New Zealand

Being in a large, comfortable queen bed with no one tossing and turning in the bunk above or below me I actually managed to sleep in until 8am. After breakfast and a short trip down to the beach I packed my bags for the long two mile walk into town. My bus was scheduled for 11:15 and by noon I began to worry that the driver had forgotten me, as Oamaru is an optional stop for the Magic service. An hour late, the bus rolled into town. It turns out the driver was a substitute who didn’t necessarily believe in sticking to the rigid schedule set forth in the manual.


Lake Pukaki

The drive Tekapo was beautiful and long. The country in this part is very dry, a result of being on the leeward side of the north-south running Southern Alps. The west coast, only 60-80 kms away as the crow flies, get nearly five times as much rainfall. Water, however, is abundant here as the snowmelt from the Alps drains eastward to the Canterbury plains and eventually to the Pacific Ocean. All through this area are dams and canals, providing 25% of New Zealand’s electric power.

We finally arrived in Tekapo at 4pm. The small


Evening BBQ
town is perched at the southern shore of Lake Tekapo peering directly over the water at the snow covered peaks of the Alps. The driver, Steve, had arranged for a group barbecue tonight. Being one of the only guys who signed on for the event, I received the task of steak preparation, which was fine with me. The feed turned out to be a huge success. In all honesty it was probably the best $10 meal I’ve had in New Zealand.


Sunset over Lake Tekapo

What I Learned Today: The river, canal, and dam system of the Waitaki Valley is one of the most elaborate in world. Water from Lake Tekapo (originally from the flanks of the Southern Alps) passes through eight different hydropower plants on its relatively short trip to the Pacific Ocean. Also, strangely, because of the amount of glacial flour in the water, most of the large glacial lakes in the Mackenzie Region are completely devoid of fish.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 25, 2008 from Lake Tekapo, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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Oh Oamaru - Night 106

Timaru, New Zealand

By some miracle I managed to wake up on

World's Steepest Street
time. Having failed to arrange the return of my key deposit last night, I quite begrudgingly forfeited the $10 as my bus pickup was prior to the opening of the front office. Also to be recorded in the “I’m a dipshit” file, for the second time in three days I left an expensive, microfiber towel at the hostel.

On our way out of town, the Magic Bus stopped at the elusive world’s steepest street. Turns out I was only a few blocks away yesterday. Talk about anticlimactic. My wanderings were a waste of time, as the street was not nearly as steep as one would think. Nursing my hangover, I declined trying to walk up it. An hour into the drive, we stopped at a small café located along the sea in an area littered with strange, spherical rocks formed by some sort of limestone accretion or something…I wasn’t really listening to the driver. By 11 we had made it as far as Oamaru, my stop for the night. I was dropped off at the far southern part of town, and it turned out my hostel was located on the far north, nearly two miles away so I had to hike it through the elongated beach town with all my possessions in tow.


Whisky Distillery and Pub
Finally arriving at the Chillawhile Backpackers, I tossed my bags in the hallway of the old Victorian mansion and made a predatory search for some lunch, my post drinking hunger having overtaken me. The Chillawhile is a large home that Kelly and her unnamed husband have turned into a small backpackers. Very friendly and relaxed, they offer free internet and laundering services. It turns out that Kelly had messed up my reservation and the only bed left was a large queen bed that they normally don’t use, so as a result of her error I got a free upgrade to much nicer sleeping quarters.

In the afternoon I walked to town to see


Penguin Colony
the Blue Penguin colony, at which all the birds were currently out fishing so it wasn’t all that exciting. Oamaru also has a quaint, two-block square of very old buildings complete with stone streets and sidewalks. Strange visions of Prague and Bratislava filled my head. I stopped at the Whisky distillery for drink and a look around. Such concluded my day in Oamaru.

What I Learned Today: It is entirely possible to walk off a hangover…a stiff sea breeze helps as well.


permalink written by  exumenius on January 24, 2008 from Timaru, New Zealand
from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos
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