It's New Years Day and I'm savagely hungover. There's glass on the floor next to me, it's probably about 35 degrees in this room and it's 9am. My nose is stuffed up, possibly from the remnants of Queenstown cold, possibly because I fell off my chair drunk as shit last night at the pub and landed on my face. Ryan is spoon feeding me passion fruit from his mom's garden. I am in Australia.
I was very very very excited about coming here, and I must say, I completely underestimated how fucking awesome this place is. Perhaps the best way to break this down is by going through some of the perceptions I had about Australia before my visit.
1) Australian Beaches Are Beautiful - true.
In fact, I would call them fucking phenomenal. I got to a point in New Zealand where I became almost jaded with beautiful scenery, but I have now been rocket-launched into open-mouthed awe every time I go to a new beach here (which is about 3 times a day at the current rate). Ryan has shown me maybe mmmmm 15 beaches since I've been here, most of them are 30 minutes or less from his parents house.
2) Australian Seafood is Yummy - true.
First meal in Australia was at the Coogey Beach Hotel restaurant and I had oysters Kilpatrick (cooked with bacon on top) and pizza with prawns on it. FUCKING AMAZING NOM NOM NOM. Ryan's Dad is like way way into fishing and since I've been at the house here I've had snapper (a different kind of whitefish than the snapper at home), mussells, prawns and more prawns. A friend of the family caught something like 30 kilos of prawns in the saltwater lake right by the house here and Ryan and I spent a few hours yesterday drinking and shucking them, occaisionally feeding some to his kitty.
3) Australian Wine is Yummy - true.
In addition to being way way into fishing, Ryan's dad is also way way into wine. And he likes to drink it with me. A lot. :-) Interesting fact: wine in boxes here is actually really really good. And cheap.
4) Australian Water is Shit - false.
I was raised to believe that Canada had the best water for drinking and washing in the world - it`s Canada for fuck`s sake. Let me tell you - Australian water gives Canadian water a run for it`s money. Just a touch on the hard side, but very fresh and tasty and way less chlorinated, nice on the skin. Which is a good thing because every single place to swim here, including most swimming pools, are salt water. Which brings me to my next point....
5) Australian Sun Makes You Look like a Saddle Bag - true, but not entirely.
Yes the lack of ozone here makes the sun burn like a bastard. But I think the real damage is being done, at least to me, by the saltwater-sun combo. My hair is so so so so blonde it`s mental. And I`m brown like a coconut. I think I look rather Australian and I`ve only been here 4 days. However, I`ve noticed in every single bathroom I`ve been in, all the girls use shampoo and conditioner for extra dry hair. I see words on bottles like ``intense repair`` and ``for severe damage`` - my hair is so fucking crispy it`s gross. Sorry Chantelle. :-(
6) Australians are Boozehounds - correct!
In the book I`m reading, Fatal Shore (as recommended to me by Micheal at the bookstore, thanks!!!), the first night the colonists (convicts) landed in Australia is documented as being one of the most vile drunken orgies evar. This spirit is still very much alive in the Australian people from what I can tell. I am no stranger to getting on the piss, but something very strange happens to me here. Between the heat, the Bundaberg rum and Coopers beer with chunks of sediment in it, I find I am capable of getting very very drunk here, while at the same time I am completely incapable of controlling my hammeredness in any way. It`s rad. Me and Ryan are having fun. :-)
Side note, Ryan is probably the best tour guide ever. He takes me to yummy restaurants, stops for beers and photo ops constantly on our drives, takes me to the best historical spots ever (as he also is a fan of Captain Cook history) and is generally awesome all the time. He loves waltzing into a drive in bottle shop or a pub, barefoot and shirtless, and introducing me around to everyone. Also, his parents are so so so awesome, I adore them. They remind me a lot of things I like about my own parents (knitting, reading, wine, fishing, cooking, love of animals) and they give us tons of privacy to just do whatever we want.
It`s true - I love Australians, and I really really love Australia.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Top 5 Backpacker Items
Those of you reading this know me - I like high thread count sheets, I eat well and I like fancy bath products. The backpacker gods demand that you forsake these things in exchange for good times and blissful happiness. Turns out you CAN sleep on sheets that feel like burlap... though you don't feel like a sexy princess doing it.
As I approach my last days in New Zealand, and I'm sitting cooped up in the Fern Lodge hostel listening to the howling wind and rain outside, I thought it'd be nice for memories' sake to make a list of the top five items that made backpacking bearable for a first timer like me.
I present, my list of top 5 backpacker items:
1) My Hideous Orange Travel Towel
Kristy insisted that I get one of these. At first I was resistant, put off by the fact that it doesn't feel like a towel at all and I was still convinced at that point that I had tons of room to spare in my pack. aaahahaha :-P
Yes it's ugly, yes it feels like a shitty piece of polyester and nothing like a towel. But it's compact, it works, it never ever smells and most importantly, it dries SO FAST. Those three little words "quick dry towel" mean so much when you're arriving at a hostel at 5pm and getting back on the bus at 7am.
2) My HP Netbook
The computer room is a good place to hang out in hostels, but sometimes I just need to curl up in my top bunk and click away on my own for a bit. Kristy, beloved all-knowing Kristy, convinced me to get a netbook and I'm so glad!! Internet is usually $4 - $10 an hour in hostels, and the lineups for free internet at the library are looooong. So I'm just pleased as punch to roll into a library and plunk down and start facebooking away. :-)
Also, the netbook allows me the luxury of privacy for my Skype calls. I'm happy to scream my head off to Kristy and Jennifer about how drunk I was last night in front of a captive audience, but the mushy gushy chats with Aussie Ryan just wouldn't be the same with some hungover fuckhead lurking behind me in the computer lounge.
3) My Air Canada Outlet Adapter
Yes, electrical outlets sure are different in this part of the world! Kind of like an Asian version of our Canadian one - more of a [< o] than a [: o]
I was going to borrow one off Aussie Ryan and forgot, then Jack gave me this rad Air Canada set when we were in Taiwan. Everywhere I go I have the smallest, cutest, most patriotic adapter evar.
4) My Giselle Sandals, Later Replaced by Fancy Havianas
I was DEVASTATED when I lost my Giselle sandals after the poo party. Step Momma Jane gave them to me and they were so so cute. But a few short days later, at AJ Hackett's Bungy Jump gift shop, I found a cute pair of Havianas that look almost the same, and are actually more comfortable.
The black fancy flip flop is a MUST for backpacker chicks. These babies go from communal shower to swimming in a lake to the bus to walking around town to up and down decent hiking trails to the pub, sometimes all in the same day. :-)
5) LBS - Little Black Shorts
Oh little black shorts how I love thee!!
Wear with runners for a hike, wear with flip flops for long days on the bus or lounging around the hostel on movie night, wear with high heels and a cute shirt and be the hottest chick at the bar. You match with everything, you have pockets and you make my ass look fantastic. :-)
Honorable Mentions:
- earplugs
- Diva Cup *warning this is a girlie product, don't click if girl stuff makes you gag
- Malaysian multi-pocket toiletries bag
- water bottle
- cough syrop
As I approach my last days in New Zealand, and I'm sitting cooped up in the Fern Lodge hostel listening to the howling wind and rain outside, I thought it'd be nice for memories' sake to make a list of the top five items that made backpacking bearable for a first timer like me.
I present, my list of top 5 backpacker items:
1) My Hideous Orange Travel Towel
Kristy insisted that I get one of these. At first I was resistant, put off by the fact that it doesn't feel like a towel at all and I was still convinced at that point that I had tons of room to spare in my pack. aaahahaha :-P
Yes it's ugly, yes it feels like a shitty piece of polyester and nothing like a towel. But it's compact, it works, it never ever smells and most importantly, it dries SO FAST. Those three little words "quick dry towel" mean so much when you're arriving at a hostel at 5pm and getting back on the bus at 7am.
2) My HP Netbook
The computer room is a good place to hang out in hostels, but sometimes I just need to curl up in my top bunk and click away on my own for a bit. Kristy, beloved all-knowing Kristy, convinced me to get a netbook and I'm so glad!! Internet is usually $4 - $10 an hour in hostels, and the lineups for free internet at the library are looooong. So I'm just pleased as punch to roll into a library and plunk down and start facebooking away. :-)
Also, the netbook allows me the luxury of privacy for my Skype calls. I'm happy to scream my head off to Kristy and Jennifer about how drunk I was last night in front of a captive audience, but the mushy gushy chats with Aussie Ryan just wouldn't be the same with some hungover fuckhead lurking behind me in the computer lounge.
3) My Air Canada Outlet Adapter
Yes, electrical outlets sure are different in this part of the world! Kind of like an Asian version of our Canadian one - more of a [< o] than a [: o]
I was going to borrow one off Aussie Ryan and forgot, then Jack gave me this rad Air Canada set when we were in Taiwan. Everywhere I go I have the smallest, cutest, most patriotic adapter evar.
4) My Giselle Sandals, Later Replaced by Fancy Havianas
I was DEVASTATED when I lost my Giselle sandals after the poo party. Step Momma Jane gave them to me and they were so so cute. But a few short days later, at AJ Hackett's Bungy Jump gift shop, I found a cute pair of Havianas that look almost the same, and are actually more comfortable.
The black fancy flip flop is a MUST for backpacker chicks. These babies go from communal shower to swimming in a lake to the bus to walking around town to up and down decent hiking trails to the pub, sometimes all in the same day. :-)
5) LBS - Little Black Shorts
Oh little black shorts how I love thee!!
Wear with runners for a hike, wear with flip flops for long days on the bus or lounging around the hostel on movie night, wear with high heels and a cute shirt and be the hottest chick at the bar. You match with everything, you have pockets and you make my ass look fantastic. :-)
Honorable Mentions:
- earplugs
- Diva Cup *warning this is a girlie product, don't click if girl stuff makes you gag
- Malaysian multi-pocket toiletries bag
- water bottle
- cough syrop
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Joy to the World... but mostly to me :-D
I'm currently hip-deep in the Pray section of this Eat Pray Love journey, or Eat DRINK DRINK DRINK Pray Love in my case. While I'm much much better than I was a few days ago, I still have a bit of a rattly chest cough, a lovely souvenir from Queenstown - but really, it could have been so much worse.... :-|
When I arrived in Christchurch I thought I was going to die. Feverish, sweating, coughing, runny nose, probably going through some kind of liver failure due to being off the booze for three days. Whoever that lovely gentleman was who helped me haul my bag up to my room - thank you you wonderful stranger. Nicole, the wonderful Dutch veterinary student from my most recent bus, came into my room to check on me and convinced me to stay in Christchurch for a few days versus the original plan to dedicate a full week to Kaikoura. Word to Nicole big time.
First full day in Christchurch was dedicated entirely to napping, future travel planning, and then more sleeping. Second day I went to the Hanmer Hot Springs 1.5 hrs out of town. Though it was pissing rain it turned out to be a fantastic day, due in part to Courtney, a chick from Michigan who'd been living in Australia for the past year. We had the mini bus to ourselves and turned out to be fantastic travel partners, seamlessly switching the conversation and our ipods on and off throughout the day. Chatting with her made me realize two things:
1) I cannot wait to get to Australia (more on this in a sec)
2) There are tons of chicks like me in NZ, not to mention the world, who have told their old lives to get bent and are blissfully following their hearts around paradise. Fuck yeah.
I've often thought that in my past life I was one of those Japanese hot spring monkeys but going to Hanmer Springs actually convinced me of this. Twelve thermal pools, three of them unfiltered and over 40 degrees = total chill out time for Anna. I also booked a half hour in the steam room and brought in the Chinese white flower oil to clear up my sinuses. At the end of the day my muscles felt better than they had in weeks, my skin felt amazing and now I find that my Franz Joseph blister is almost gone as well as my Queenstown mechanical bull bruises. yessssss!!
My last day in Christchurch, yesterday, I dedicated entirely to the pursuit of joy and happiness. This includes yummy brunch with Nicole the Dutch girl, two walks around the botanical gardens, a trip to the art gallery with Courtney the Aussie/ American and a PJs movie night with the Scandahooligans. *sigh*
Woke up at 6am today feeling shit hot and ready to roll on to Kaikoura. Though my whale watching trip was canceled due to extreme wind, I still had a rad walk along the beach for THREE HOURS with an Estonian chick on my bus and ended up getting close enough to a seal that I was able to poke it with my finger.
Though I initially planned on spending several days here in Kaikoura, this place is a small town but also very inconveniently spread out (hence the three hour return trip to poke a seal). Change of plans, moving on to Nelson tomorrow and spending a full six days there. There's beaches, there's actual convenience stores, there's art galleries - a town with a pulse that one can walk around with some ease. Not a bad place to enjoy some good solitude time before DOM DOM DOM Christmas with Alieda and Medellee!! :-D
Now I've been holding off on this for awhile but I just gotta shout it out: I am so so so so stoked for Aussie Ryan, my sweetheart and partner in crime from my last days in Victoria, to meet me in Australia for New Years. oh fuck yes. ><
He's picking me up at the airport in Sydney and we're going to chill out on our own for a few, then head over to his parent's place in Wollongong, go party with his pals, borrow his Dad's truck and drive up the East Coast of Australia camping/ couch-surfing/ hotel as needed style. It's like my favorite book, A Town Like Alice, only it's not World War 2... and he didn't get crucified for stealing me chickens. :-P
I am so excited, so amazingly happy - in every sense totally and completely fucking high on life. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
When I arrived in Christchurch I thought I was going to die. Feverish, sweating, coughing, runny nose, probably going through some kind of liver failure due to being off the booze for three days. Whoever that lovely gentleman was who helped me haul my bag up to my room - thank you you wonderful stranger. Nicole, the wonderful Dutch veterinary student from my most recent bus, came into my room to check on me and convinced me to stay in Christchurch for a few days versus the original plan to dedicate a full week to Kaikoura. Word to Nicole big time.
First full day in Christchurch was dedicated entirely to napping, future travel planning, and then more sleeping. Second day I went to the Hanmer Hot Springs 1.5 hrs out of town. Though it was pissing rain it turned out to be a fantastic day, due in part to Courtney, a chick from Michigan who'd been living in Australia for the past year. We had the mini bus to ourselves and turned out to be fantastic travel partners, seamlessly switching the conversation and our ipods on and off throughout the day. Chatting with her made me realize two things:
1) I cannot wait to get to Australia (more on this in a sec)
2) There are tons of chicks like me in NZ, not to mention the world, who have told their old lives to get bent and are blissfully following their hearts around paradise. Fuck yeah.
I've often thought that in my past life I was one of those Japanese hot spring monkeys but going to Hanmer Springs actually convinced me of this. Twelve thermal pools, three of them unfiltered and over 40 degrees = total chill out time for Anna. I also booked a half hour in the steam room and brought in the Chinese white flower oil to clear up my sinuses. At the end of the day my muscles felt better than they had in weeks, my skin felt amazing and now I find that my Franz Joseph blister is almost gone as well as my Queenstown mechanical bull bruises. yessssss!!
My last day in Christchurch, yesterday, I dedicated entirely to the pursuit of joy and happiness. This includes yummy brunch with Nicole the Dutch girl, two walks around the botanical gardens, a trip to the art gallery with Courtney the Aussie/ American and a PJs movie night with the Scandahooligans. *sigh*
Woke up at 6am today feeling shit hot and ready to roll on to Kaikoura. Though my whale watching trip was canceled due to extreme wind, I still had a rad walk along the beach for THREE HOURS with an Estonian chick on my bus and ended up getting close enough to a seal that I was able to poke it with my finger.
Though I initially planned on spending several days here in Kaikoura, this place is a small town but also very inconveniently spread out (hence the three hour return trip to poke a seal). Change of plans, moving on to Nelson tomorrow and spending a full six days there. There's beaches, there's actual convenience stores, there's art galleries - a town with a pulse that one can walk around with some ease. Not a bad place to enjoy some good solitude time before DOM DOM DOM Christmas with Alieda and Medellee!! :-D
Now I've been holding off on this for awhile but I just gotta shout it out: I am so so so so stoked for Aussie Ryan, my sweetheart and partner in crime from my last days in Victoria, to meet me in Australia for New Years. oh fuck yes. ><
He's picking me up at the airport in Sydney and we're going to chill out on our own for a few, then head over to his parent's place in Wollongong, go party with his pals, borrow his Dad's truck and drive up the East Coast of Australia camping/ couch-surfing/ hotel as needed style. It's like my favorite book, A Town Like Alice, only it's not World War 2... and he didn't get crucified for stealing me chickens. :-P
I am so excited, so amazingly happy - in every sense totally and completely fucking high on life. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Queenstown Part Two: The Long Kiss Goodnight
Throughout my travels in New Zealand I've said things like "how much joy can the human heart handle?" and "This is so amazing, I'm going to party and live in New Zealand forever!!!" but like all things, what goes up must come down.
Leaving Queenstown this morning, I said what I imagine are my last goodbyes to Frosty, Matty and James (the English lads), Myrna and Luna (the Dutch Girlz), Camilla and Kirstine (the Great Danes/ Scandahooligans), the Scottish lads and all the folks from my South Island bus. Almost all of these characters will be in Sydney for New Years, and I'll be in the vicinity as well as I'll be there with Aussie Ryan in less than 2 weeks.***
This last Kiwi bus crew got pretty tight, and not just in the sense that everyone was hooking up with everyone, but there have been a lot of "no, I really really love you" kind of conversations going on in the last 48 hours. It's incredible how much bonding can take place in the space of a week, especially when you consider that you eat, sleep, party, chill, bungy etc. together for every waking moment. Like the longest first date evar. As I said to one of the 19 year old boys who was telling me about how much he loves one of the girls, the Kiwi bus gives you just enough time to fall in love with someone but not enough to learn to hate them.
Between the savage drinking that took place in Queenstown and a lovely deep chest cough I developed today, I think I'm ready for the Pray section in this Eat Pray Love Adventure. Although I planned to only stay in Christchurch for a day, I think I'll chill here a little longer with Nicole, a really rad Dutch girl from the bus. Museums and parks are good for the soul, and Christchurch has more doctors and clinics than Kaikoura in case this cold goes tubercular. Once I no longer sound like a barking seal I'll head North for my last destination on the Kiwi bus circuit and swim with some dolphins.
*** aaaaaw yeah!! ><
Leaving Queenstown this morning, I said what I imagine are my last goodbyes to Frosty, Matty and James (the English lads), Myrna and Luna (the Dutch Girlz), Camilla and Kirstine (the Great Danes/ Scandahooligans), the Scottish lads and all the folks from my South Island bus. Almost all of these characters will be in Sydney for New Years, and I'll be in the vicinity as well as I'll be there with Aussie Ryan in less than 2 weeks.***
This last Kiwi bus crew got pretty tight, and not just in the sense that everyone was hooking up with everyone, but there have been a lot of "no, I really really love you" kind of conversations going on in the last 48 hours. It's incredible how much bonding can take place in the space of a week, especially when you consider that you eat, sleep, party, chill, bungy etc. together for every waking moment. Like the longest first date evar. As I said to one of the 19 year old boys who was telling me about how much he loves one of the girls, the Kiwi bus gives you just enough time to fall in love with someone but not enough to learn to hate them.
Between the savage drinking that took place in Queenstown and a lovely deep chest cough I developed today, I think I'm ready for the Pray section in this Eat Pray Love Adventure. Although I planned to only stay in Christchurch for a day, I think I'll chill here a little longer with Nicole, a really rad Dutch girl from the bus. Museums and parks are good for the soul, and Christchurch has more doctors and clinics than Kaikoura in case this cold goes tubercular. Once I no longer sound like a barking seal I'll head North for my last destination on the Kiwi bus circuit and swim with some dolphins.
*** aaaaaw yeah!! ><
Monday, December 13, 2010
Queenstown Part One: Royally Fucked Up
I was warned about Queenstown.
From my very first nights in Auckland I heard loud boasts of legendary nights out and hushed whispering of horrific incidents taking place in this gem of a town. Imagine Whistler Village, mountains, river rock and all, with an enormous teal blue lake 5 minutes walk away from a smattering of gourmet burger joints, nightclubs and pubs. Now inject this picture-perfect place with thousands of backpackers coming in on buses every day and locals comprising of the most intense party animals I've ever met. Fresh meat meets seasoned carnivore.
Singing and shouting wearing party hats, our bus arrived at AJ Hackett's bungy jump on the morning of one of the boy's 19th birthday. We all pitched in $3 and bought Tom a jump and 40 of us cheered him on as he did a perfect swan dive into the canyon wearing his party hat. Lana, a late 20s girl from Nova Scotia was shitting herself with anxiety about the bungy and was running on a smattering of herbal relaxation pills and sprays. She also did a perfect swan dive and I swear I've never seen a bigger grin in my life.
High on adrenaline and positivity, we headed straight to town. On the bus the girls are all talking about who's hooking up with who, who hooked up with who at the Poo Party, who wants to hook up with who in Queenstown. Lana asks me in a whisper who I think would be the best lay on the bus. I tell her she should talk to Michael aka Michiel aka Miguel, the most awesome Dutch dude from Holland. 32, part Indonesian, a winning attitude, rad dancer and into nice shoes, good wine and Robert Jordan novels, Michael is the pick of the litter except all the other girls on the bus are 19 or stupid or me. Lana smiles and says, "yeah maybe, we'll see."
Upon check-in at the Nomads hostel, I discovered the Scottish boys, the English lads, the Great Danes and the Dutch Girlz thoroughly entrenched in several hard days on the piss. Hugs, travel stories, photo sharing, phone number swapping, facebook adding.
First night out we headed to Altitude bar for free drinks, then to the World bar for more free drinks. Even though my first night in Queenstown was only 3 sleeps ago, I have a hard time trying to recall the details of the evening right now. Probably because World bar is known for it's tea pots - cocktails served in a tea pot with little shot glasses perfect for sharing. Or drinking in one go with the spout in your mouth. My beverage of choice for the night was appropriately named Ship Wrecked. It seemed like a great idea at the time...
Score count for the evening: pretty much everyone on the bus hooked up with someone, including Lana and Michael, Birthday boy Tom and one of the 19 year old English girls, German Rikki aka Oma (Grandma) and a Kiwi dude and a five-way between some Niina from Finland, an Irish dude, a 19 year old English boy and some random local girls.
Next day Amy, an absolute boozehound from Canmore Alberta woke me up and said her, Michael, Mark the Canadian and some of the English girls were headed to the park for a picnic. I put my specs and jeans on, walked straight to the bottle shop for some champagne and enjoyed a toast to Queenstown while enjoying fruit salad made from local produce we got at a fruit stand the day before. Return to hostel to sleep, shower, eat a Devil Burger (mmmmmmmmmmm Devil Burger) and prepare for round two - the pub crawl.
I've been on pub crawls in Victoria before with University and a few organized by friends for birthdays etc. Nothing could prepare me for the night that laid ahead. We start again at Altitude bar, redeem free drinks, head to the World bar, redeem free drinks. Head to maybe... lets say five more bars, each time welcomed with a free shot and everyone buying everyone drinks. We literally crawled back to the World bar at the end of the night, more free drinks, back to the Hostel, "I Love you" "No I Love you" chats in the lounge until 7am.
Yesterday morning I woke up and thought my eyes were bleeding. I put on my glasses, took them off - it made no difference, my eyes were worse than two piss drops in the snow. I was a bag of broken glass smelly and sweating on the top bunk. This was a day some of you may have received Facebook messages from me saying I think I may die if I keep partying. My apologies for any alarm, I'm much better today, especially because I ate only fruit and water yesterday, curled up with the Great Danes and nursed my hangover like a newborn kitten.
In such an attempt to remedy myself, I purchased some "legal high" products from the bottle shop - Puff the Magic Dragon, completely legal imitation weed with the same effects as the real thing only it smells like soap. And it works. :-)
It was one of the Dutch girl's last nights in town, our official real goodbye, so the Great Danes bought some imitation Ecstacy tabs, also from the "legal high" section, and I was happy to dance around Buffalo Bar with them tripping on pills while we all drank copious amounts of water. PS - I like how water is free in New Zealand. I hate paying $2 for a bottle of water in Victoria, but here they are happy to give you a tall glass of ice water with lemon and a straw so people don't even think you're not drinking. Thank you Buffalo Bar staff for allowing me to be a baby while coming to grips with the terrors of Queenstown.
It's always a bit melancholy around the hostel when so many folks from the bus have left, this one was espeically sad as Michael left today. However, I hear he was scheduled to leave tomorrow but changed his plans so he could continue traveling with Lana. Aw. <3
Aussie Carley arrived today (wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!) and we immediately went for a walk around the lake to catch up on shenanigans from the past week or so since we'd last seen each other in Nelson. When we get back to the hostel I see Niina, scandalous bi-curious girl from Finland, limping over in tears wearing a sling. She'd rented a dirt bike for the day to rip around town, and though she's pro and had been riding back in the lapland for 15 years, she totally spilled her bike and broke her collar bone and possibly fractured her hip which now looks like a pile of strawberry jam with a bandage on it.
Put Niina to bed, went and bought her some dinner, water and supplies, set up her laptop so she could Facebook home and got her extra bedding from reception so she can be propped up while writhing in pain and chatting. She doesn't speak much English so at this moment I'm just chilling out by her bedside, occasionally chatting in broken sentences and generally keeping her company. It's a few people's last night in town tonight so I'll be heading out to the bar again soon, will be getting on the ice water like an animal tonight!!! Yeah!!!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Fast Times on the South Island
It's been a whirlwind of extremely weird shit since I arrived in Nelson with the new Kiwi bus. Another excellent crew, and I'm especially pleased to find a Canadian dude (from Vancouver) and three Canadian chicks (from Victoria, Alberta and Nova Scotia). Team Canada represents at all pub functions in full force!!
Spent most of the day in Nelson at the pub watching cricket with Dr Dave, Aussie Carley and other characters from my travels in the North Island. I still don't understand cricket but I did enjoy the free beer tasting, a hike up to the center of New Zealand and a good visit with some familiar faces.
Left Nelson for Westport, a very small snoozy town. Not much to report there except for spending an evening watching The Life Aquatic on VHS with German and Irish folks who didn't get it. hm.
Earlier in the day the bus decided the upcoming Poo Party should be Christmas themed, and we all stopped in Greymouth to purchase costumes. Greymouth is the town where the mining accident just happened, and it was more than a little weird to be putting together funny Santa and Elf costumes while seeing "We Remember" and "You Are Missed" signs everywhere for the miners. On the other hand though, I suppose it was a good thing to pump some cash into that town.
The night at the Poo Pub, now that was some shit. The Poo Pub is a lovely establishment in the middle of fucking nowheresville, kind of like a sleepaway camp with a Big Bad Johns. The pub is owned by Les, and 85 year old dude who cooked us all steaks and got hella drunk with us at the bar. Slutty and scary Santas, elves, presents, angels, turtledoves, baby Jesus - you name it, it was there and it was very very festive. Many of us got too drunk to stand and ended up crawling down to the lake via a trail illuminated by glow worms. I lost my beloved Giselle sandals. :-(
The following morning all 40 of us disgustingly hungover beasts went to a local museum dedicated to the New Zealand innovation of deer hunting and farming. Videos of dudes jumping off helicopters onto the backs of deer, hog tying them and flying them to farms. So. Fucking. Weird. There was also a lovely walkthrough area at the museum showcasing various taxidermy masterpieces and live possum and eels. We enjoyed breakfast there where they served possum meat pies and a smattering of other roadkill delicacies. A quiet night followed upon our arrival at Franz Joseph.
Bright and early the next day I'm off to climb a glacier!! A very National Geographic feeling to don crampons and trek around a glacier like a mountain goat, drink from glacier streams. My experience, however, was kind of half-assed as I only booked a half day hike so I could spend the majority of my afternoon at the hot pools floating around like a manatee.
So here I am in Lake Wanaka which is eerily similar to Kelowna. Honestly, I look outside and feel like I'm looking in the Okanagan and should be at Jennifer's house making tempeh cakes. Looooooong ass day on the bus so I've just returned from a dip in the lake... and will now have a nap. :-D
Spent most of the day in Nelson at the pub watching cricket with Dr Dave, Aussie Carley and other characters from my travels in the North Island. I still don't understand cricket but I did enjoy the free beer tasting, a hike up to the center of New Zealand and a good visit with some familiar faces.
Left Nelson for Westport, a very small snoozy town. Not much to report there except for spending an evening watching The Life Aquatic on VHS with German and Irish folks who didn't get it. hm.
Earlier in the day the bus decided the upcoming Poo Party should be Christmas themed, and we all stopped in Greymouth to purchase costumes. Greymouth is the town where the mining accident just happened, and it was more than a little weird to be putting together funny Santa and Elf costumes while seeing "We Remember" and "You Are Missed" signs everywhere for the miners. On the other hand though, I suppose it was a good thing to pump some cash into that town.
The night at the Poo Pub, now that was some shit. The Poo Pub is a lovely establishment in the middle of fucking nowheresville, kind of like a sleepaway camp with a Big Bad Johns. The pub is owned by Les, and 85 year old dude who cooked us all steaks and got hella drunk with us at the bar. Slutty and scary Santas, elves, presents, angels, turtledoves, baby Jesus - you name it, it was there and it was very very festive. Many of us got too drunk to stand and ended up crawling down to the lake via a trail illuminated by glow worms. I lost my beloved Giselle sandals. :-(
The following morning all 40 of us disgustingly hungover beasts went to a local museum dedicated to the New Zealand innovation of deer hunting and farming. Videos of dudes jumping off helicopters onto the backs of deer, hog tying them and flying them to farms. So. Fucking. Weird. There was also a lovely walkthrough area at the museum showcasing various taxidermy masterpieces and live possum and eels. We enjoyed breakfast there where they served possum meat pies and a smattering of other roadkill delicacies. A quiet night followed upon our arrival at Franz Joseph.
Bright and early the next day I'm off to climb a glacier!! A very National Geographic feeling to don crampons and trek around a glacier like a mountain goat, drink from glacier streams. My experience, however, was kind of half-assed as I only booked a half day hike so I could spend the majority of my afternoon at the hot pools floating around like a manatee.
So here I am in Lake Wanaka which is eerily similar to Kelowna. Honestly, I look outside and feel like I'm looking in the Okanagan and should be at Jennifer's house making tempeh cakes. Looooooong ass day on the bus so I've just returned from a dip in the lake... and will now have a nap. :-D
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
What Really Happened on My Last Night with the North Island Kiwi Bus Crew
Similar to when I spent several big city nights in Auckland, Wellington has turned into a bit of a shitshow...
Immediately after check-in at the Wellington Base Hostel, the Great Danes, the Dutch Girlz and I decide to get all prettied up for a night out. As we walk into the Hostel Pub, we discover that it's called The Basement for a reason - picture the scummiest Port Alberni bar ever, only set in your creepy uncle's basement. We survey the scene for a familiar face and find the Kiwi bus driver Briggsy and some of his other bus driver mates - ah, there's the creepy uncle. Within minutes a pub crawl enters and the bar is filled with two dozen smurfs. You heard me, blue smurfs. I recognize several of these blue bastards from horrific nights out in Auckland and Paihia and get down to business shortly.
Fast forward to 1am - after many many "I can't believe it's your last night, Jagerbomb NOW!!" moments, I am officially refused service at the bar. Yesssss. The ladies decide to crawl back to our room in Sanctuary (girls only dorm) and bring the Scottish lads with us.
At this point I think it's important to illustrate how fucking old this hostel is. I'm no architect, but the historian in me places this dorm at around 1920: single pane windows, gorgeous stairway spiraling up all 8 floors, a high-ceiling reception area with original hardwood floors.Water pipes that hang from the ceiling and occasionally make noise like you're getting pissed on. And then there's the elevator, that old clunky elevator...
4 girls, two of them bootylicious Danes + 4 Scottish Rugby players = 8 people, the max capacity for the elevator. In hindsight perhaps cramming all of us in to get back to the room probably wasn't smart but as my favourite saying goes, it seemed like a great idea at the time. Sure enough the lift stops and we're trapped. And drunk.
I really felt for the people on the other end of the conversation when we pushed the emergency contact button - they ask if we're ok and receive a mixed response of Scottish brogue, Danish squealing peppered with cursing in a slurry Canadian accent. :-D After about 30 minutes the Scottish boys decide to take matters into their own hands and pry the doors open. Surprise - we're in between floors and can see a 3x3ft square of the 4th floor. Before I know it, the lads are squeezing out through the gap and pulling us girls through. I ignore the urban legends about people getting squished in half doing this kind of thing and allow myself to be shoved through.
Just as I was getting up from the floor, I look up to see the elevator repairman and he's PISSED. Liability, etc. etc. We look back into the elevator to see Dirty Dad, the most lecherous of the Scottish boys and Danish Camilla who has now burst into tears. Hey, if I was too drunk to stand and found myself trapped in an elevator alone with Dad I may have done the same.
Eventually Camilla and Dad are rescued and we call kind of stand there in a swaying group hug petting each other's heads and thanking the stars. Some of the group may have paired off and headed to handicapped washrooms at this point to express their gratitude in further depth. :-P
The next morning I say my goodbyes to the girls with hugs, some of us carefully avoiding the linoleum burn and bruises from the shenanigans of the night before. We make tentative plans to do New Years in Sydney... god help me. ><
Immediately after check-in at the Wellington Base Hostel, the Great Danes, the Dutch Girlz and I decide to get all prettied up for a night out. As we walk into the Hostel Pub, we discover that it's called The Basement for a reason - picture the scummiest Port Alberni bar ever, only set in your creepy uncle's basement. We survey the scene for a familiar face and find the Kiwi bus driver Briggsy and some of his other bus driver mates - ah, there's the creepy uncle. Within minutes a pub crawl enters and the bar is filled with two dozen smurfs. You heard me, blue smurfs. I recognize several of these blue bastards from horrific nights out in Auckland and Paihia and get down to business shortly.
Fast forward to 1am - after many many "I can't believe it's your last night, Jagerbomb NOW!!" moments, I am officially refused service at the bar. Yesssss. The ladies decide to crawl back to our room in Sanctuary (girls only dorm) and bring the Scottish lads with us.
At this point I think it's important to illustrate how fucking old this hostel is. I'm no architect, but the historian in me places this dorm at around 1920: single pane windows, gorgeous stairway spiraling up all 8 floors, a high-ceiling reception area with original hardwood floors.Water pipes that hang from the ceiling and occasionally make noise like you're getting pissed on. And then there's the elevator, that old clunky elevator...
4 girls, two of them bootylicious Danes + 4 Scottish Rugby players = 8 people, the max capacity for the elevator. In hindsight perhaps cramming all of us in to get back to the room probably wasn't smart but as my favourite saying goes, it seemed like a great idea at the time. Sure enough the lift stops and we're trapped. And drunk.
I really felt for the people on the other end of the conversation when we pushed the emergency contact button - they ask if we're ok and receive a mixed response of Scottish brogue, Danish squealing peppered with cursing in a slurry Canadian accent. :-D After about 30 minutes the Scottish boys decide to take matters into their own hands and pry the doors open. Surprise - we're in between floors and can see a 3x3ft square of the 4th floor. Before I know it, the lads are squeezing out through the gap and pulling us girls through. I ignore the urban legends about people getting squished in half doing this kind of thing and allow myself to be shoved through.
Just as I was getting up from the floor, I look up to see the elevator repairman and he's PISSED. Liability, etc. etc. We look back into the elevator to see Dirty Dad, the most lecherous of the Scottish boys and Danish Camilla who has now burst into tears. Hey, if I was too drunk to stand and found myself trapped in an elevator alone with Dad I may have done the same.
Eventually Camilla and Dad are rescued and we call kind of stand there in a swaying group hug petting each other's heads and thanking the stars. Some of the group may have paired off and headed to handicapped washrooms at this point to express their gratitude in further depth. :-P
The next morning I say my goodbyes to the girls with hugs, some of us carefully avoiding the linoleum burn and bruises from the shenanigans of the night before. We make tentative plans to do New Years in Sydney... god help me. ><
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