Down south

Now for some South Island pics, if you can stand the excitement. We took the ferry to Picton, then drove two hours to Nelson. It's a very cute, very hilly little town. I've heard it likened to Napa, what with the sun and all the vineyards.

Here's a before and after of my pendant and the the bone that it came from. It's a "beef bone," which sounded kind of gross to me, but the guy cleans off all the goop beforehand. The shiny bit on the pendant is a piece of pauha shell, which is very big here.



Here's V looking very industrious:

Mmmm, wine...

Hmm, well that's about it for Nelson, even though we spend 2 1/2 days there. We went for a long drive and had takeaway Thai food one night, which didn't seems very photo worthy. And there was the World of Wearable Art museum, which was amazing (yes, I fell asleep during the film segment- I can't help it), but we weren't allowed to take photos in there. The town got surprisingly quiet in the evenings, despite the many backpackers and local kids running around all day.

Next up is Dunedin, the hilly version of Edinburgh.

Global Starbucks

As it's nearing summer here, I noticed today that a few people were carrying around cold drinks in Starbucks cups. (Interestingly, it's also October here, so they're promoting pumpkin flavors as well as summer drinks.) I'm a sucker for frozen beverages, so I made a stop at the Starbucks across the street, on my way home from the grocery store/meeting with a Wellington insider (these happened in two different locations). I completely forgot that I actually hate Frappucinos, due to their weird chalky consistency and bitter aftertaste. Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf blended drinks are way superior. When I got my tall, overpriced coffee drink, served by an American girl from Kentucky by way of Manhattan, I remembered that I don't like them. Then I hoped that since I'm in New Zealand, far, far away from the source, it would be a little different, i.e. tasty. Well, I'm here to tell you... New Zealand Frappucinos taste *exactly* like American ones. Like scarily the same. Usually when you're in foreign countries, there's some distinction between flavors in common items like potato chips, chocolate and pizza. But not Starbucks.

Anyhoo, I have more pictures and more important projects that I'm procrastinating on. So here are a few more.

The Waitomo caves. We weren't allowed to take pictures of the glowworm cave, but this cave was also kind of cool:

Just so no one is crushingly disappointed with this next batch of photos, I'll reiterate...I have no pictures of the giant carrot yet. But I will, and I will post. In the meantime, here is an example of why I'm not an outdoorsy person:

But then again, this is why I wish I were a more outdoorsy person:

Picture pages

Back in Wellington. V and I returned last night and she just left for the airport a few hours ago. Just for a quick rundown, we had a great time during our last couple of days in Dunedin. One day involved a lengthy trip to the Otago Peninsula, where we took a tour to see the local yellow eyed penguins, seals and albatross. It was hugely refreshing and wonderful to be in such a natural environment. After that we went to see a movie called Out of the Blue, which was based on a true story from 16 years ago, when a man from a nearby town called Amaroana snapped and went on a killing spree. He killed 13 people from this tiny seaside village in 22 hours. It was a heartbreaking story, but fascinating to see something so local to where we were. I bought the book based on the occurances, and will finish it over the next day or so. The next day involved a train ride through the Taieri Gorge, a scenic ride to a teensy town of 250 called Middlemarch. V was in a constant state of surprise as I kept falling asleep on the train (not my fault, it's a moving vehicle) and spaced out during the conductor's commentary.

These days in Dunedin were punctuated by us whispering in our room at the B&B because we were so uncomfortable being in someone else's home, some nice conversatiuons with our hippie hosts and daily breakfasts at 8:30 a.m. that V quickly began referring to as the "Bed and Breakfast Regime." Our last day involved the Cadbury factory (NZ branch), a mini-plane ride back to Wellington, a hyperactive, possibly drunk shuttle driver, what may turn out to be my world-famous pickle flavored (dill, actually) spaghetti bolognese, and the return of the drunk shuttle driver to bring V back to the airport this afternoon.

It's really kind of sad. We had a great time traveling together, and though we clearly couldn't do that kind of thing forever, it was one of those really exhilerating, eye-opening experiences that makes me feel like a better person overall. I'm hoping to continue incorporating such travel experience in my life in the future. I've really been lacking in the travel department since going to Europe 10 years ago, forgetting that all it takes is a few dollars, a plane ticket and some time on your hands. Hopefully hubby and I can work out some stuff to make travel a pleasurable thing for him, not a source of business-related stress, so that we can make it a part of our lives.

I have loads of pictures, but I don't want them to be overwhelming, so I'll break them up chronologically over a few separate posts. And you, along with me, can relive some of the highlights over the past two weeks. Sadly, I have no photos of the giant carrot, but when V gets back to the States, she can pass hers on to me for posting...

This is a semi-view of Auckland. The pointy thing in the middle is their Sky Tower, which V and I to this day refer to as the Space Needle.

In the Sky Tower is a glass panel. They swear that it's as safe as standing on the regular floor, but it's still panic inducing to stand on. One of their commercials includes a shot of a little girl jumping up and down on it while her father stands there looking anxious:

They have a "sky jump," which I was too chicken to do at the time. Now I wish I could go back and do it.

Remember how I said Mt. Eden was really freaking windy? That's my sweater that's flying up in the air.

After Auckland was Rotorua. More than a week and one washing cycle later, our clothes still have the faint scent of sulphur. These are some of my favorite pictures from Weiotapu, the "geothermal wonderland." I also likened it to the Earth's butt, where all sorts of inside stuff bubbles and bursts out. But that's just me.

Next up is Maori stuff, the ski resort where the only ATM was a 40 minute drive away, and many pretty views...

Further south

Free internet, woo hoo! The route to finding a place with free internet was a long and arduous one, but I'm taking full advantage of it now.

So V and I hit Nelson, the sunniest spot in NZ that was decidedly not sunny (at least not until today, the day we left.) But it's an adorable waterfront town with lots of artsy folks and expats. We took a bone carving class with a German guy, and created surprisingly beautiful pendants for ourselves. Seriously, this dude was an example of an excellent teacher, who explained each step, helped each person in the class create unique pieces, and fixed our mistakes while still making us feel like we we instrumental in making the piece. He used to be a guitar maker in Germany which really quite a sexy thing, don't you think?

So that was a fun day in Nelson, followed by meeting a lovely lesbian couple who own a B&B. If I haven't already explained this, I'm doing some research on gay-owned lodgings around NZ for a possible article. This is how I've been meeting completely random people in sections of town I may not have gone to otherwise. It's been interesting. After that, um, hell, I've forgotten. We probably got Thai food, because for some reason that's been our main staple in NZ.

Yes, we did get Thai food. The movie we wanted to see was sold out, so we went for a drive along the coast and then found Thai food. It was one of those odd NZ situations though. It was 8:30 and they were closing up because it had been a slow day, due to the fact that it was after a holiday weekend and "everyone has spent their money." They strongly suggested that we order take out. (I might mention that the night before (we keep tending to eat late), we tried to go to an Italian restaurant. They were having a function, and at first wouldn't seat us, and then relented and gave us a run-down of the menu and what we could order. As in "I have two filets left in the kitchen, I can offer gnocchi but not linguini" etc. This also relates to another anomoly in this country, in which store owners will actually leave their post and put up a sign that says "Back in 10 minutes." Odd.)

Anyhoo, we brought our food home and just chilled out in the nice apartment provided by a lovely gay couple. I met them this morning at their own B&B and they were wonderful people. V and I then had a fabulous lunch at a vineyard, followed by a browse in a glass gallery (my mother would be so happy with this kind of day), and then headed to the airport to go to Dunedin.

It did occur to us today that we didn't have accomodations in Dunedin arranged. This is the kind of pre-planning that one really ought to do. I found what sounded like a nice place in the Lonely Planet, although it was listed in the "budget" section. I've been feeling a lot of guilt over spending too much money, so it seemed reasonable for a one-bedroom. I did, however, forgot to ask questions like "Is there a private bathroom?" Once we got to Dunedin and dropped off by the shuttle, we were faced with a big sign that said "Backpackers Accommodations." This country is filled with backpackers hostels, and they are decidedly not what V and I are comfortable with anymore. Maybe if I were traveling alone, but we've gotten incredibly spoiled with things like decent hotel rooms and car rentals.

So we go to the front door of the address I had, where there is a sign for "Manager," and a girl in a Catholic school uniform. I may add that the Catholic schools here have the longest uniform skirts I've ever seen. She took one look at the backpacks that we're lugging around, and sent us next door, to a different address. We walked in, and were hit by the smell of frying onions. In the communal kitchen. The stoned guy at the front desk didn't have our reservations, and smirked when I asked for the "one bedroom." He took us past the communal bathroom, and the separate communal shower, to a teensy room with two very pink beds. We were out of there before they could ask us our names. What we figured out later was that the first place we had been to was probably the correct place, as described by the Lonely Planet, but we were sent next door to the hostel where we didn't want to be. Confusing, eh?

Of course, what that meant for V and I was that we were stuck in a random tiny city, at 7:30 p.m., with no hotel and big giant backpacks. Finally standing on a street corner calling up hotels, we found a B& that thankfully could take us.

Now, to get to this B&B, it turned out we had to walk about a 3/4 of a mile, more than half of which was uphill. Like way uphill. We werent sure how far we had to go, and about halfway up, when we asked a girl for directions, she said "There's this lump, and then another lump and it's there." V wisely asked "By lump, do you mean the horizon?" Yes. Panting and breathless we arrived at what turned out to be an absolutely adorable B&B run by a very gentle man and his wife, though I haven't met her yet.

I've never stayed at a B&B before, but I've always wanted to because they sound so cute. My husband is not so down with the idea, citing the reason that "You get a bed, and a breakfast...in someone else's house!" I'm stating it on paper now...he's absolutely right. While our room is nice, and I'm excited about croissants and tea tomorrow, and the owner is extremely pleasant AND I have free internet, there is something supremely awkward about being in someone else's house. Like, they live here. They mostly hang out upstairs apparently, but still.

Anyhoo, it's all well and good. Dunedin is sort of a dinky town, but tomorrow I'm meeting more gay B&B owners (and I wonder why everyone thinks I'm gay?), then we're taking a ferry to the Otago peninsula to see penguins, seals and albatrosses. I kn0w, albatrosses. How random.

See, this is why I can't neglect my blog. Too much goes on during each day for me to remember it all three days later when I get to an internet terminal again. But I'll do my best...

The bungeeing/kiwi viewing/geyser eruption took place in Rotorua, which is on the north island about halfway between Auckland and Wellington. From there V and I drove to the Waitomo Caves, which was just a few hour stop to wander through a cave with lots of stalactites and stalagmites. That was followed by a rather amazing boat ride through the "Glowworm Cave" which, yes, is filled with glowworms. You take a very quiet ride through the cave in complete darkness, and the ceiling is absolutely filled with tiny glowworms. It's like a galaxy up there.

We then drove to the Tongariro National Park, to a town called Whakapapa. If I haven't mentioned it already, everything in NZ is named either something unpronounceably Maori or stuffily British. Like a place called Bleinham or Cheltingham can be located right next to a town called Waikato, Waitomo or Wangarini. It's very confusing.

As it turned out, Whakapapa is a ski resort, for which we were ill prepared. It's springtime here, and there was actually still snow on the mountain, though too high up for us to handle. We had a kind of gross dinner in what turned out to be our "regular" cafe. I say regular only because it was basically one of three places in town to eat, and the only one that was open when we wanted to eat. The next day, we managed go on a two hour hike in the rain. A lot of rain. Very wet rain. We felt virtuous though, and were very happy to sit on our butts for several hours after that in the cafe.

It also turned out that that hotel that we were not staying in was the nice one, with a big comfy lobby and fireplaces and all, so I tried to convince V that we should sit in one spot the rest of the night. She wisely vetoed that idea, so instead we went on the hunt for the world's biggest carrot. Oh yes. There was a nearby town called Ohakune that boasts a structure of a big carrot. It's kind of their thing. I'll post a picture when I can.

The rest of the night was more than pleasant, involved sneaked-in French fries from aforementioned cafe, two bottles of wine (one of which tasted exactly like grapefruit), Scrabbled, rich Kiwis and a lonely Taiwanese man.

The next day we headed back to Wellington. It was a drive that should have taken 4 hours, but somehow between the rain, a slightly scenic route and many, many dangerous mountain roads (avalanches included), it took us 7.5 hours. We basically got home in time to order pizza with hubby, do laundry and repack for the South Island.

But then I learned the lesson about being careful what you wish for. I had been hoping to spend more time in Wellington before we had to take the ferry to the South Island. Well, we weren't aware that we were supposed to arrive 45 minutes before our 8:25 a.m. ferry, so when we got there at 8:15 looking expectantly at the woman at the ticket counter, we were a little shocked to find out that the boat was closed. I guess it's the New Yorker in us, but what the hell? So we sort of hitchhiked back to the apartment- it was only sort of because we were standing in the middle of an industrial ferry area, in the ubiquitous rain, with no taxis nearby, and a kindly old man took pity on us.

We had tickets for the 2 p.m. ferry, and I was looking forward to a little blogging. Alas, there was a massive power outage. So we slept. And it was cold. Then we had lunch with hubby. Then we got on the boat. And it was cold. And we got to Picton, and it was cold and rainy. And we drove, through more mountainous roads sans avalanches. And finally, finally arrived in Nelson, where we are today.

Okay, we're actually going to cheat on our travel mode and go see a movie in a few minutes. Hey, it's a local thing to do and we're seeing An Inconvenient Truth, so we're being good Americans. I'll post pictures this weekend, and next up is the tale of how V and I became master Maori bone carvers. I have a pendant to prove it.

Bungee tales

Right, so I'm inside that big box 150 feet in the air, hemming and hawing for several minutes, convinced that I could NOT jump off:



Then I found myself no longer on the platform and in this position.



Still falling...



Most definitely upside down:


Okay, I'm down...


Whoa, back up we go!



A few more bounces like that and it was all over.

Next up, the story of a galaxy of glowworms and hiking two hours in the rain...

Guess what I did today...

If you guessed, seeing a nearly extinct kiwi bird, you would be correct. I couldn't take any pics to prove it, but V and I finally saw the adorable kiwi bird. It was housed behind glass in near pitch black at the Te Pui outdoor museum in Rotorua. It was as cute as I thought it would be, to the point that I whispered, "I wish I could pat his tushie." Kiwis are all fluffy, almost mammalian, and very diligent with poking around with their long beaks.

If you guessed that I saw a geyser shoot 50 feet in the air, you would also be correct. Rotorua is a geothermally charged tourist area, so there's all sorts of bubbling mud pools, crazy multicolored springs and ponds, and geysers. When I can get to my photos, I'll post a few. It's otherwordly in these area, and the whole town smells of sulphur.

If you guessed bathed in an aforementioned mud pool, you would also be correct. We went to a mud spa where we got to wallow in a private mud bath, and now my skin feels all smooth and soft.

And if you guessed bungee jumping...well, you're absolutely right. I did it! I bungeed. It was a scary, scary experience, but entirely worthwhile.

As we drove up, we saw the platform and it didn't seem to high. I should add that this "adventure park," which also included a skydiving simulator and other such activities, also had a farm with sheep, ostriches and cows. Not so intimidating. I was nervous while signing up for the jump, but at that point I had totally decided to just go for it. I was tired of talking about it, thinking about it and imagining it.

Once we started up on that crane though, I was singing a totally different tune. It was just under 150 feet up, and about halfway up I was all "Um, I'm not sure I can do this." Once we were totally up, I said "No, I can't do this." The guy in the cage with me was persistent and wouldn't let me back out. He assured me that he has dealt with others like me, it's perfectly safe, yadda yadda. That doesn't really matter when all of your natural instincts are kicking in and telling you NOT TO JUMP.

Still, he kept prodding me onto the ledge and telling me not to look down. All I could do was look down, and it was sooooo far. I was still saying, "Nope. Sorry. I'm not doing it." And then he was prodding me further out on this teensy ledge, and then I was holding my arms out while he held his hands under my arms, and suddenly people were yelling 3...2...1... and then I remember screaming on the way down.

It was amazing. Once I stopped screaming, I remember being vaguely disappointed that the falling stopped. Then I bounced back up and that was a whole new terror in itself, but it was exciting. Then I just found myself bouncing upside down in the air and getting a real thrill out of it. After a few bounces I was more than ready to come down, and finally they caught me and pulled me down.

And now I want to do it again. I don't know if I will, but coming down was definitely worth the anxiety going up.

The Other Windy City

We nearly got blown off the top of a volcano today. Okay, not really, but it is hella windy here in Auckland, and the winds grew to monstrous proportions when we were on top of Mt. Eden, an extinct volcano. I'll have photos later to prove it.

This must be a short post, as V and I have to catch a bus to Rotorua in about an hour. But Auckland has been lovely. Well, the weather was crap yesterday when we arrived, so after a bit of walking around we took a long nap. Fortunately when we finally woke up and left the hotel room, it cleared up. Today has been beautiful and sunny, just really, really windy.

Hopefully I'll be able to fill in the cracks later, but today involved lots of walking. We meant to do the harbour to harbour walk from the north end of Auckland to the south. We were defeated pretty early on and wound up taking the bus part way, but that was an experience in itself. Especially when V tried to put coins in the slot where the ticket spits out. The bus driver got a real kick out of that, especially as V and I collapsed into what was probably our 4th set of giggles that day.

Our day also consisted of a) a fried Snickers bar that nearly killed V, b) pumpkin soup in a bread bowl, mmmmm... c) cute college boys giving us directions as we helplessly held out our three city maps (yes, we're aware that we're at least 10 years older than these boys), d) wind...much wind... and e) watching other people jump off the 190-meter Sky Tower (attached to a bungy cord, of course) which is so high up that we got dizzy just from standing on the top floor last night. I may not have it in me to bungy, I realized, but we'll see. Oh yes, and gambling is legal in New Zealand so we lost money rather quickly on the slots. It happens.

Goodbye Wellington

It hurts to say this, but I may have a few days of non-blogging. I know! But the reason is a good one, as V and I have planned out an action-packed few days. We're not actually sure what our final itinerary is, but it seems like a good one in theory.

To back up a moment, I'm happy to say that I got to witness some rowdiness the other night when I was having the urge. There was a Wellington versus Someone Else in rugby. Again. So the bar was pretty packed with cheering crowds. Or booing, depending on who scored the goal. Since I couldn't really follow the game, we didn't last long as spectactors, but it was fun to see.

V arrived yesterday, so we've been traipsing Wellington and seeing all four sights. Just kidding, Wellington is lovely, but I don't feel the need to show off everything I've taken in over the past couple of weeks. A bus tour, some shopping and a few photos and I feel complete. Oh, and I bought a new pair of sneakers from a store that had three very expert shoe salesmen. Seriously, they took an imprint of my running footstep, then videotaped my feet running on a treadmill. By the end I was so overwhelmed by all the attention that I had to buy a pair.

As for the next week, it should be a busy affair, based on hours of planning, questions and internet research. On Monday (early) morning we're flying to Auckland, where we'll stay until Tuesday night. Then we'll take a bus south to Rotorua, which apparently is filled with geothermal springs and smells like sulfur. On Wednesday we'll tool around Rotorua, check out some touristy Maori cultural stuff and whatever else on on Thursday. On Friday we'll drive to the Waitomo Caves, where we can take a raft into the caves and check out the glow worms. Since I dream of being adventurous, we may do the longer cave tour that involves jumping down a waterfall. A little one. We'll then drive to the Tongariro National Park, and on Saturday, we'll attempt the 7-hour hike from one end to the other. There's volcanoes and other cool sights along that lengthy walk, as long as the weather complies with our travel plans. On Sunday we'll head back to Wellington for a breather and so I can say hello to hubby.

After that is the South Island, but that's a whole other story that we'll deal with next weekend.

Till later, here's a picture of me and V on Mount Victoria, with a pretty view of Wellington. I swear, there is sunshine here sometimes:

Nature Girl I'm Not

Yesterday's adventure of the day involved taking the bus (!) to the Karori Wildlife Preserve, which consists of no other wildlife than birds. There are some hints of seeing the elusive kiwi bird, which is a potatoey-looking creature with a long, straw-like beak which is just adorable.
But kiwis are endangered, shy and I think nocturnal so I didn't come across one. Basically I just walked around trying to asborb the fresh air and all the beauty of the plants and trees that sprang up on either side of me. The problem, I discovered, is that I'm just not that much of a nature girl.

Don't get me wrong. I appreciate nature. I think it's lovely and the air smelled sweet and the plants were exotic and there was a picturesque pond. And I discovered that there's a weed or herb or something called a Wandering Jew. But honestly, my whole goal there was to burn off some calories with exercise, get in a little local flavor and be done with it. I'm sort of a "be done with it" kind of person, I realized. It was also incredibly windy at times. Just getting to the reserve meant walking from the bus stop along a sidewalk that dropped off into a cliff on one side, and I was a tad nervous about being blown over. I even called up hubby at work to tell him if I didn't come home that night it was because I fell off a cliff.

Back to the naturey part. So it was lovely and I'm very glad I went, but even at the time I could hear my clunky boots stomping around at way too fast a pace (the same stompiness that apparently has caused more than one person to think I'm a lesbian. Seriously.) I tried to slow down my pace to fully take in all that was around me, and I was rewarded by the sight of two birds cuddled side by side, fast asleep. That was sweet.

But really I wanted to get home and read, which I did after hitting up the grocery store for taco salad ingredients.

Today I decided that I should just keep it city oriented, so I kept it simple. I wandered over to the gym around noon, went to the used bookstore and exchanged one trashy novel for another, and then went back out later where I read aforementioned trashy novel over a leisurely lunch. It was bliss. On the way back I got my eyebrows waxed, which involved a nice conversation with the waxer. She's a Colombian biology teacher who moved to NZ for her husband, and now owns a beauty salon. She was very cool, and I have to say it was nice to have a conversation with someone. I've been a little isolated here, although it has caused my hubby and I to have in-depth conversations more frequently than usual, which is a good thing in itself.

I am excited though, because V, one of my closest friends from New York is coming to visit tomorrow. She'll be here for two weeks, which should give us ample time to travel around the North and South Islands. I haven't spent that long traveling with anyone since backpacking around Europe 10 years ago, so I'm a little nervous that we'll start grating on each other after a while. But we're adults, and we did find each other to be great travel companions on a trip to Puerto Rico years ago. Back then I was a little less interested in sightseeing and generally being active, so I think she'll be pleased with my desire to be more active this time around. One of our favorite shared memories is the time that we took a bus somewhere in Puerto Rico, she got off the bus at our stop, looked back, and realized that I was still sitting in my seat, fast asleep with my sunglasses on. Oh yes, and we still giggle about the doorknob falling off the balcony in our hotel room, but that was one of those "you had to be there" moments.

Well, it's Friday night here in Wellington. I'd like to go out tonight to see some rowdiness, so hopefully hubby is up for it when he gets home from work. However, we also have the latest episode of Battlestar Galactica, which is seriously, seriously tempting.

Food musings

Well mission accomplished on the drowning out gross sushi memories. My palate was more than pleased with dinner last night. We went to a place called Pravda, which is nothing like my beloved Pravda in New York that served caviar pizza and dirty martinis. But at this place, I feasted on yummy bruschetta, salmon in saffron broth (cooked this time) and decadent chocolate panna cotta and creme brulee which I shared with the boys. And the wine. Oh that New Zealand wine. I don't actually know what we drank, but it was a pinot noir and it was full, rich and delicious.

Of course, I never learn my lesson that wine should stop with dinner, so when we got back, I wound up getting hammered on whatever was remaining in my kitchen. I'm paying the price today. I made myself go to a spinning class which was deadly, and am now very slowly working my way through this awful carrot/apple/beet concoction I got on the way back. It's supposed to cleanse my liver, but all it's doing is sparking my gag reflex.

Just so this post isn't all about food, here are some observations about Wellington:

We're located smack in the middle of the central business district, so I tend to see a lot of business people. But there's a good number of young people wandering about also. Lots of kids in Catholic school uniforms, matched by the same number of punky youths dressed in all black. (Addendum: it took me about 5 days to remember that "punky youths dressed in all black" can also be referred to as goths. God, I'm getting old.)

New Zealanders are very proud to be natural born hippies. Eco-travel, adventure sports and preservation are big here and they're happy to talk all about it. Everyone seems to have gone bungee jumping at least once. Outdoor beauty is a source of national pride.

This isn't New Zealand-specific, but I'm still having a hell of a time dealing with walking on the left. The walking part is fine, but when someone is coming straight at me, my instinct is to veer right, when their instinct is to veer left, and we end up doing that awkward dance on the sidewalk.

The girls here aren't that skinny or stylish, which pleases me. That sounds like a horrible thing to say, but try hanging out with a bunch of locals in Italy and you'll know what I mean. Nothing made me feel squatter or more dowdy than hanging out with those girls. Here, people seem more healthy than anything else. It's a blend of the British strawberries-and-cream complexions combined with outdoorsiness.

There's an astonishing number of cute cafes and CD/DVD stores. I'm not sure how anyone stays in business. There's also a ton of Subways, which is so grossly American, but I love Subway so I can't complain.

Sushi 101

1. When the sushi place you enter only has one type of fresh fish, walk away. This particular place had only fresh salmon. Otherwise I had the option of canned tuna, smoked chicken (!) and assorted vegetables.
2. When the woman behind the counter doesn't understand the concept of sushi over rice versus rolls, walk away.
3. When the sushi place charges for every blip of wasabi, eensy containers of ginger and soy sauce in little single serving pods and doesn't include chopsticks, walk away.

Me, I chose to do none of these. The salmon that I brough home had a weird, crinkly appearance. It was really really bright orangey pink. It had brownish edges. And it didn't taste like anything. The rice was kind of dry. The soy sauce I bought at the grocery store the other day was kind of thick and sweet. All in all, pretty gross.

I did have a fine day otherwise. I meant to take the bus to the Chocolate Fish Cafe, which is a little place by the water that my tour guide said was a popular getaway cafe for locals. It's popular with locals because it's hard to get to without a car, but I figured the tourism office could explain how to get there. They said take the number 30 bus, and the terminal was located about a 15 minute walk away. When I got there, I realized that the bus wasn't going to show up until 4:15. It was only about one o'clock at that point.

So I gave up and took the cable car up to the botanic gardens. It's quite lovely there, and I did lots of walking up and down hills for a couple of hours that made feel like I got in some good exercise in fresh air. On the way home was the unfortunate sushi decision. But we're going out with some of hubby's coworkers tonight, so hopefully a beer or two will wash away the memory of grody fish.

30 and Counting

I have to say, day one of being 30 was sort of sucky, but I take full responsibility. Despite the break in bad weather with a lovely Saturday,** I decided it would be a great idea to just lounge around the apartment all day with no concern of being outdoors or exploring. That's always a great idea for about 3 hours, and then I turn into a big ball of sloth with no ability to do anything except stare at the TV. I didn't even have a book to read. I was pretty cranky by the end of the day. It was a silly thing to d0- I can't just sit around when I'm at home, so there's no reason I should be able to do the same while in a brand new city. With less TV, no car and only one friend.

**I would like to clarify that Aaron just pointed out that Saturday wasn't actually nice weather at all. He reminded me that it rained all day. So I feel better about my lazy day.

But most of all what I realized is that I desperately need exercise. Walking around and the occasional climbing steps doesn't really cut it, and I think going from a pretty regular (though not frequent) workout schedule to hardly any at all is getting me down. Plus it's hard to put on a cute outfit and take on the world when all you can think about is the size of your thighs. I honestly haven't thought about the state of my thighs this much since I was in college, and I tell you it's Not Fun to deal with.

So yesterday I took matters into my own hands. I went about town (still not very far as I haven't worked out the bus system here yet) with many missions and goals. Number one was to find a gym, which I did for a relatively reasonable price. I have a friend coming to stay with us in a week to travel with me, so I don't even know if I'll get enough use out of this gym (she says while sitting on the sofa for half the morning) but at this point anything will be worth it.

I also dragged Aaron out for a beer to enjoy the lovely weather and we walked around the city for a while. We passed a jewelry store, so I gave him a lesson on what kind of jewelry Sarika likes. I broke it down into "White stones are always good, dark blue is sometimes good, even red can be good, but green and purple aren't so good." He told me I have expensive tastes, but considering that I didn't even notice the $36,000 ring that he pointed out, I think I'm easy to please. I noted that my engagement ring cost him nothing (it was his mom's) while my wedding ring cost next to nothing because I found it in a thrift shop. Now, I'm not a big jewelry person, but I figure I should start instructing him now before our 10th anniversary sneaks up on us and I end up with a vacuum cleaner.

Well, all this talk about how I need exercise, how happy I am to have found a gym, how exercise cleanses the soul... it's pretty pointless until I actually get off my ass and out there. I'm working on it.

Birthday pics

Birthday flowers from my thoughtful family. My brother even found a local florist and the card has the word for "daughter" in Maori, "Tamahine."




Here's me standing on Mount Victoria, which has a 360 view of Wellington. It started sleeting around that time:


Wellington home are awfully cute, even though I got a shot of a rather run-down one. Some hilltop homes actually have private trolleys to take them from the bottom of a hill to to their front doors. Otherwise they'd have to walk up 200-300 steps:



The fairy penguins are coming! Only at dawn and dusk, really, but I was lucky enough to see them marching home in Melbourne and it's a darned cute sight.



My birthday presents:



This is what I imagine heaven might look like:

Too Much Information?

Again, the following paragraph going to be Far Too Much Information for most people, so read cautiously. But it must be expressed, since where the hell else am I going to record such stuff?

I turned 30 yesterday. Actually, I turned 30 today in the States, but it was yesterday in New Zealand. In honor of aging faster than I can keep track of, what did I find? A gray hair. And not on my head. Sigh. The one or two gray hairs on my head showed up a couple of years ago, and while I haven't exactly come to terms with them, I've gotten used to them. But this beauty is in a new location that I wasn't expecting. And I'm not happy with it.

Oh well, again, can't do anything about it. Other than that, my birthday was hella fun. I took a bus tour of Wellington to see parts of the city and all sorts of rocky beaches. We drove by Peter Jackson's house, but Wellingonians are fiercely protective of their only celebrity, so we weren't allowed to take pictures or anything. At night Aaron and I went to the Matterhorn, where apparently the Lord of the Rings stars liked to hang out (again, Wellington is pretty fixated on this). I had lots of drinks and a pretty yummy meal of venison, and then we walked around the city a little bit. We had one more drink in another bar, but the big rugby match was about to start and rowdy crowds were starting to gather (rugby, aka Aussie footy is the other thing New Zealanders are fixated on). I love a good rowdy crowd, but I'm so not interested in sports, so we decided to go home where it's warm.

We stopped by a bookshop on the way home so Aaron could get me some birthday presents. We picked up a game, which turned out to be a dud, but we were intrigued by the title Fact or Crap? We also got DVDs of Moonlighting and Mr. Bean, which were awesome. We also picked up a chocolate mud cake from the grocery store and a bottle of wine (curiously, a Chilean wine was far cheaper than any of the local stuff). So all in all, a lovely night.

Now it's Saturday so I'm going to sit on my butt for a while. Perhaps I'll go for a walk later to check out the Botanic Gardens or something. And then make hamburgers for dinner tonight. Mmm....burgers.

My nails are too long

Anyone who knows me is aware that I bite my nails. In an attempt to cut down (get it?), I clip them often, which has turned into its own habit. Since I've been away from home, a couple of my fingernails have started growing and somehow avoided being attacked by my teeth. You would think this is a good thing, but in reality I HATE having longish nails. You see, when they're long, they have a greater chance of getting wet and pliable, and then, ergh, bending BACKWARD. Ewwww... just the image itself elicits a physical reaction in me. I cringe, my arm hair stands straight up and I salivate in a horrible way.

Having just spent 15 minutes scraping off what I could from the stovetop after last night's overflowing pasta water fiasco (Aaron said that I'm the reason that people hate renters), I'm quite fearful for the nails that managed to grow the millimeter past the nail bed. What I'm trying to say is that in my day of mundane activities (mundanity?), cutting my nails is next. So is plucking my eyebrows. It's amazing how the little things slip to the wayside when you're not in your own home.

So my day of mundanity has been quite pleasant. I finally ventured out of the apartment, despite the whistling winds outside. It would be one thing if we were overlooking the moors. Winds are welcome to whistle in moors, but not in the dead center of a city.

I managed to make it around the block, picked up a map of Wellington, and booked a bus tour for tomorrow. I tried to rent a cell phone but was informed by the sole man in the office, who looked a little bit like a toothy badger, that he was the only one "holding down the fort" and he didn't know how to rent a phone. But that the guy who did would be back in an hour. I went back a couple of hours later and the badger said something in a thick accent that may have meant that the renter guy was sick and not coming in at all. I'm not sure, but I was mesmerized by his teeth.

I hate when my errands are thwarted, especially when it took me 15 minutes to find the place- it was on a street, The Terrace, that runs almost parallel to the one that our apartment is on, Lambdon Quay, but at a higher level and there's no perpendicular street connecting the two. You have to go through a building or shopping center and take the elevator up to get to this street. Trust me, figuring that out was no easy task.

The whole time I was outside, I wasn't feeling right. The wind made my face feel dry and it was blowing my hair in a way that I could feel two day's worth of hair products cake on. And I felt fat, which wasn't being helped by wearing three layers of clothing and just-washed jeans. It was one of those moments when you wish you could go home and start all over again...well, guess what? I'm on vacation so I can!

I finally came home, and started my day all over again. I washed my hair, ate a salad, read my book. It was bliss. Then I headed back out with the goal of finding a trash bin for the bathroom. Along the way I had two cups of ridiculously strong trim flat whites (what was "skinny" in Australia is "trim" here) and wandered in many circles.

The weather in Wellington is nuts. One moment it's windy and cloudy, then it's calm and sunny, then windy and sunny, then windy and rainy, then just windy. The sun blinks in and out of existance like a, erm...well, similes were never my strong point.

Anyhoo, I did manage to find a teensy trash bin and... get this, a faux mink blanket. In dark blue! Guess what darling purchase is coming home to Los Angeles to live with Sarika?? The design in the apartment is all very minimalist, complete with white leather furniture. White leather is not a very cushy material, so Aaron has been throwing the bedroom blanket onto the sofa. But I figured dark blue (faux) mink throw is a much classier way to dress up the couch. I may get a second one just for the white leather armchair because it's So. Damned. Cute.

And that's my day thus far. I haven't figured out dinner, but I'm seriously considering talking Aaron into picking up Subway to bring home. I know, so American of me, but I haven't had a good Subway sandwich in forever, and they do make a fine meal. In my day of mundanity, why not?

Picture Time

I'm in Wellington! At long last, Aaron and I are together again...erm, sitting across from each other on our respective computers. God, we're such geeks. We also played gin rummy. Wellington is freaking cold, windy and rainy today, and it's been pretty flipping cold inside the apartment so I'm pretending that we're on vacation in our country house. I figure I have a month to deal with all the walking, sightseeing and finding article material.

Speaking of article material, I did spend all of Monday walking around Melbourne's gay neighborhoods interviewing gay shop owners. I was hoping to find owners of cool, trendy boutiques, but with that amount of time, all I could do was hit the obvious gay places. So I wound up at two adult shops, a gay bookstore, a gay bar and a gay nightclub. All were fascinating, but unfortunately not very unexpected or innovated. Still, I did hear from a lot of owners that the gay 'hoods are actually on the decline, possibly due to a sluggish winter and/or gay assimilation, which may turn into a rather interesting story, so we'll see.

Rest assured that I've weeded out all majorly unflattering photos of myself. And believe me, there were a'plenty that involved either my tummy poking out from my shirt, my underwear sticking out (damned low-rise jeans on both counts) and just general shots of my ass. Why my relatives took so many photos that involved my ass is beyond me.

I know this may seem like a boring first picture, but look at what's wrong with the moon on this side of the equator:



And not to be Negative Nelly, but look close to see how creepy this apalca's eyes are. They'e clear blue with thick vertical pupils:




This is me with my cousin's husband (in Hindi, he's my jijaji ,but I guess we don't really have a word for that in English. Just cousin, I guess) and their two kids on Apollo Bay (I'm not sure what they are to me in Hindi, but I'm their masi):




This is the Sydney Harbour Bridge that I climbed:




Me on a rock in front of one of the 12 Apostles:



The elusive platypus:



My cousin feeding a 'roo:



And last, but certainly not least...the koala! The lazy, unsociable but awfully adorable koala!

Melbourne Debates

Warning, the following paragraph is not for the weak hearted:

Why is it that no one ever talks about traveler's constipation? Seriously, it's getting to be a major problem. A whole week and two morning constitutionals to speak of. I'm all bloated and shouldn't put another bite of food in my mouth except that I really enjoy eating. Sigh. Hopefully when I'm in Wellington I can spend a little private time with myself, focusing on nothing else for as long as it takes. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Okay, bad stuff over with. I'm back in Melbourne. My family (cousin, husband and two kids) and I went away for the weekend to take a drive along the Great Ocean Road. One thing about Australia is that there's no shortage of beaches. We took about a 4 hour scenic drive to an area called Apollo Beach, stopping along the way to see more scenic stuff. It was quite scenic. Fortunately the weather held up nicely so we could frolic as one should do in these areas. I'd have to say one of my favorite memories was a simple evening walk along the beach with the family. We had finally arrived in our apartment, had some tea and then had to rouse ourselves from the lure of the warm indoors, cushy sofas and flat-screened TV. Once we finally got our butts onto the beach, it was a lovely time of walking, skipping rocks and taking photographs.

There was that moment of the Great Footy Debate that made me really appreciate family dynamics. The football (Aussie footballs are shaped just like ours) somehow got left behind on the beach, and the kids began arguing over who was responsible for trekking back to get it. It was one of those arguments that's incredibly fun to watch because it's just a battle of wills- will the older one win out because he's older, or will the younger one's stubborness prevail? Having gone through many a similar argument with my older brother growing up, I wasn't surprised when the little one made the long jog back to retrieve the precious footy. And in wonderful maternal fashion, his mom went along with him.

It was a long drive the next day, starting with another continuation along the road to see the famed 12 Apostles. Once again, pictures would be good here, but essentially they're free-standing limestone structures in the ocean that were carved off the cliffside by years of water and wind erosion. They're quite magnificent, and it's fascinating to know that years more erosion will make these structures crumble entirely. It's one of those moments when you begin to understand that whole "blink of an eye" concept from nature's perspective.

The long sleepy drive was notable only for the Great Gay Debate, this one involving me against everyone else in the car about gay adoption. It's one of those situations where you eventually have to agree to disagree, but it's good for me to hone my arguing skills. I can't help it if I think I'm right and everyone else is wrong. I just think if those who have any sort of bias against homosexuality would quickly change their minds if they were as entrenched in the gay community as I am, so it's just one of those situations where education leads to open mindedness. Until you get that exposure of meeting gay parents and the kids of gay families, it's going to seem impossible. I just figure if I can do anything, it's to remove the terms "disgusting" and "unnatural" from their vocabulary. Gay is what it is, and it's not going anywhere.

Our long sleepy drive was followed by a big Indian feast at the in-laws house (not my in-laws, but my cousin's, although I'm sure my mother and sister-in-laws would have thoroughly enjoyed every bite of it). Another gay discussion followed, this time with a couple more supporters on my side. It was unexpected to have debate about gay rights in an elder Indian household, so that was a nice experience.

And now I'm in the city, wasting time away at an internet cafe as I wait for the tourism office to open. Actually it opened 20 minutes ago. I'm going to do some big gay exploration to see if there's anything to write about, and get to know the city a bit along the way. But for right now, I think a stop at a coffeeshop is in order. The term "internet cafe" is used very loosely, as all I can see are two vending machines. But there's no shortage of cute cafes in Melbourne, so I'll make my way to the tourism office with a stop along the way.

Tomorrow I'm leaving for Wellington, so rest assured that photos are on their way to being posted.