New Zealand

There are a number of options with regard to travelling round New Zealand. Travelling on my own rules out getting a car or camper van (I love the Wicked ones!). Also it's winter, so a camper van is probably a bit chilly. There are then loads of bus tours you can go on. They offer a broad range of itineraries, which cover most peoples needs. I have heard various comments on the different tour operators. The Kiwi Experience: beer, beer, young, dumb, full of cum. Hum?... possibly? or The Magic Bus: wine drinking, not so young, wiser, easy going crowd humm?, nearly persuaded. However because I'm meeting up with various friends along the way, I opt for an Intercity bus pass. I have bought 'hours', I just call them up on a free phone number, give them my password and book the next leg of my journey. The hours are then just subtracted from the pass. In typical NZ fashion, its super efficient, the information easy to get, the people all super friendly: New Zealand = Travelling for Idiots!

The Interisland ferry which connects the North Island with the South Island is also part of my Intercity bus pass. It's eight in the morning. Sally has dropped me at the port and I embark onto the vessel. It reminds me of a cross channel ferry. I find myself a single seat by a window, grab a coffee and a muffin, and settle in for the crossing. We glide out of Wellington harbour and hopefully away from the rain. There is a big flat screen TV at one end of the lounge I'm sitting in. The TV comes on showing 'Good Morning'! Brendon and the team all on TV. I chuckle to myself, and remember again that I've lost my phone, drat.

The weather does in fact brighten as we near The South Island. The sea sparkles deep blue and the vegetation is lush and green. I head to the sun deck and soak in some rays, I've missed the sun. We even spot a pod of dolphins playing in the deep blue water. Picton is a small port in the north of the South Island. Apparently it was nearly made into the capital, but Wellington won the honour instead. Picton is tiny and very sleepy, I cant see how it could ever be a capital city. I love how proud New Zealanders are of their home towns. I walk past a hostel almost immediately called: The Villa, and book in. It has a hot tub and free apple crumble with ice-cream after dinner. I unload my stuff and go for a walk. I'm only here for a night, then off the Nelson tomorrow. Pre crumble I have a soak in the tub, there are 25 rubber ducks to play with. There is no central heating anywhere in NZ?? This is very strange, it seems its a legacy left over from the Victorians. I tuck myself in and hope I won freeze to death. I get up bright and early, and after a stupid shower which sprays water over the top of the curtain (I don't notice so soak my jeans and underwear), I get a lift to the bus heading to Nelson.
The weather is so much better. Its still a bit drizzly, but as soon as the sun is out you know about it. The sun is scorchio. No ozone layer. We arrive in Nelson and I find a hostel by the park. It is brand new and very smart. Then I have to head off to find the Police Station, to report my mobile phone loss. The police women is so helpful, that I wish I had other problems I could discuss with her. I now have a crime reference number. Although technically, losing ones phone when inebriated can hardly be construed a crime, more like asking for it. Back at the hostel I meet Ken. Ken is American from Queens in NYC. But he now lives in Hong Kong with his girlfriend. I eye up all his travelling items; his Victorinox bag, his Apple charger (he has his laptop, I WANT/MISS MINE), his neat pile of Liberty-esque print shorts and t-shirts. I like Ken, before I've even met him properly. I head off the next morning to do a trek in the Able Tasman national park. It is the only real trek I get to do whilst in NZ because the weather is so changeable, Tongariro crossing gets knocked on the head because of snow. BUT Able Tasman is more beautiful than words. I spend an amazing day with Sarah from England and Angela from Germany. It pours with rain for a bit, but we have our waterproofs, and just get on with it. I notice that one foot is wet in my shoe. There seems to be a hole in the sole, bugger. My Merrel trainers whch have done me proud, have a hole. Nothing I hope some superglue wont fix. We walk all day and end up in a weird sort of hippy commune art gallery/cafe. A deserved hot chocolate with marshmallows. I am damp and soggy, so glad of hot power shower (sans uber curtain spray) and snugly room at the hostel on my return. Ken and I then venture out for some Thai. He's been mountain biking, so we exchange notes. Back at the hostel we meet Peter, who has moved into our room. He's an American from Wisconsin. We all get into our various bunk beds and slowly drift off to sleep discussing relationships, falling in love with best friends, marriage, all sorts of stuff. Its nice to speak with two guys about it all, they have just as many worries and confusion surrounding these matters. I fall asleep, with them chatting like girls into the night. I have another early bus in the morning taking me to Christchurch to meet Charlotte. Lisa J's friend whom I also met in Argentina.

The bus to Christchurch will take seven hours. We drive back through the vineyards of Marlborough, then through Kaikoura, where we stop for lunch. This is whale watching paradise, but I can't stay, so will have to come back. New Zealand is achingly beautiful. Cobalt blue skies, emerald blue green seas, slate gray volcanic sand, tufts of Ed's blond hair (sea grasses) blowing in the wind. Seals sleep on smooth grey rocks in the sun, all the way along the coast. Snow capped peaks, washer board batches, bleached drift-wood and little fluffy clouds. I think the sheep look like little fluffy clouds too. Charlotte meets me from the bus in Christchurch. It is so cool to see her! I'm loving meeting up with travelling friends. She has a car, so we pack up and head towards Lake Tekapo, where we'll be staying with some family friends of Charlotte (the Kerrs). As the evening draws in, it gets colder and threatens to snow. Luckily we make it to the lake unhindered. A delicious home cooked dinner, plenty of chilled wine, and sweet nibbles awaits us. After dinner we star-gaze with a coffee. The night is clear and the stars are brilliant. I'm shown the southern cross and Venus. The Kerrs are super hosts and Charlotte and I finally trundle off to bed with full tummies, completely content. We have a big double bed with a mountainous feather duvet. I fall asleep almost instantly. I am awoken very early with the window behind the bed, rattling in the wind. I stuff a sock in it, and go back to sleep. When we do eventually arise, the weather outside has changed. The first flakes os snow are falling. It is freezing and we have a long drive over the Lindus pass ahead of us. After a fry up breakfast, we hit the road. It is also my first view of Lake Tekapo. A glacial lake with water this incredible turquoise icy blue colour, milky with sediment. As we near the Lindus pass, we are told that we may need chains. Its been snowing for a while, but Charlotte and I are determined to get over the pass without chains. We make it, passing cars on the side of the road who are putting theirs on (you so didn' t need them). We arrive in Wanaka, at Charlotte's friend Bernie's. A weekend at Bernie's!!

It is Friday night and because we're tired, we stay in and watch a DVD. I cook us a salmon steak each, which Charlotte and I picked up at a salmon farm on route. I check my email and establish that Sally has my phone! Weirdly its been handed into the bar I lost it in, a week later? I knew I would see it again, but it's a mystery where its been for a week. Charlotte arranges accommodation at the Heritage in Queenstown. We have a luxury villa for six awaiting us. On Saturday afternoon a gaggle of girls, five of us head to Queensown. Its been snowing loads so all the Winery's we attempt to lunch at, are closed. We arrive in Queenstown ravenous. I'm taken straight to Ferg Burger. An institution in Queenstown. Humongous burgers with all the trimmings. We then check in to the Heritage. We have a whole self contained villa to ourselves. It is beautiful and I feels like we're in a boutique hotel. Electric blankets (wheres the Teas made?), mock log burning gas fire, heated bathroom floors, the lot. I head straight to the bathroom and luxuriate in a deep bath. We all get dolled up and head out to watch Opshop. Meet the band, very drunk, Charlotte and I get kicked out of a bar, we break in through the back door, I snog some random guy (photos of him prove I was wearing BEER goggles), another Ferg burger and home aka... brilliant night!

We have to check out by 10 in the morning, so after I've stolen all the free toiletries (I ask the girls if I can), we head back to Wanaka. Charlotte has to leave, she's moving to London! So hopefully I'll see her there. I need to stay till Tuesday to await my couriered phone from Wellington. I have to be at home to receive the mobile phone, so I sit at Bernie's twiddling my thumbs. It arrives! I have my phone back, miracle. I have all afternoon now with nothing planned. So I decide to do a sky dive. Two hours later Im at 15000 feet jumping out of a plane. As soon as I hit the ground I wish I could do it all over again. What a treat. The free fall was for a full 60 seconds. I scream the whole way. So much fun! My bus back to Queenstown doesn't leave till Tuesday eve. So I go snowboarding at Cardrona with two of Bernie's friends in the day. Perfect weather and loads of snow. NZ does snow very well. There isn't the drop or the scope of pistes in Europe, but the snow is lovely and I spend a great day cruising about. Bye to Bernie and back to Queenie. Both Wanaka and Queenstown are quite touristy, but done so well. Great restaurants, bars and shopping. Both on beautiful lakes. There are so many things to do, you could spend weeks here doing something different everyday. I only really want to snowboard, so for the next two days I do. NZ snowboarders are about the coolest Ive ever seen. So many nice outfits. I'm peeved to be in my hotch-potch of Sarah's waterproof trousers over my trekking trousers, my Northface waterproof and my hired board and boots. I miss my gear.

The next day I get my final NZ bus back to Christchurch (it takes all day), I have one day and night before I fly to Fiji. I have loved NZ hanging with some great people, but I look forward to some HEAT, sea and sun.

Hair report: hat hair

After toilet paper drought in South America, I'm back to wrapping the loo roll round my hand.
Salmon sashimi lunch, so fresh.
Richard (40 something) doing the Kiwi Experience!?
The medical student who wrote her whole thesis spelling the word muscle, 'mussel'!
The unscheduled stop by the bus driver who wanted to buy swedes, which had experienced the first frost. A 20 minute detour. Bless him.
NZ obsession with massive fish sculptures.
Eat fantastic Japanese in Christchurch.

xxx

I am in Auckland and in a horrid hostel. It is quite new and clean. Nevertheless, it seems devoid of any character or characters. It is very early but I'm not tired having just slept for hours on the plane. I have no idea what time or day it is. I resort to having a shower. I nice hot steaming shower. I use tons of shampoo, shower gel, and face wash. I shave, I pluck and I moisturize. I still feel gross. I think after all the stress in the jungle, then lots of flights, crap food and not enough water...I feel wrong. I head to the room and mope.

I like Auckland. I have had some tips from Ana and Kate back in the UK about where to go and what to do. Unfortunately, the weather is pants. Rain and more rain. I meet a cool girl in my dorm called Cass, she's Aussie and out in NZ to work in a ski resort. Thank god she's in my room. Friday is wet and cold = venture to bank and Internet café which is full of hundreds of Asians playing in some weird computer world. On Saturday the sun is shining, and I drag Cass on the link bus up to Ponsonby. Here we wander until we find Dizengof. A very sexy eatery full of trendies and uber cool fashionistas. I am in heaven. After all the hardships in South America, I'm back in the West (well culturally) and I love people watching, checking out the clothes, shoes, bags, hair, makeup and jewellery. It is all here vying for attention, on this now sunny (but a bit windy and chilly) Saturday morning. I order a fat flat white coffee and a huge portion of scrambled eggs with smoked salmon on toasted sourdough. It is perfect. We then have some retail therapy on Ponsonby road. Lots of small boutiques and nice cake shops. Budget being as it is. I limit myself to free spray of perfume (new fav:
Hotel Slut flavour) and free mascara and eye shadow too, I am testing them with the intention of maybe buying them. This is in a shop called Mecca, full of luscious things for pampering, like Space NK. Then it is into an Internet cafe for a quick mail and a quick choc fix. Back to Cadburys, a Curly Whirly! And all things English! Well ish...

I have left South America, but I still speak to everyone in Spanish and am having trouble realising that everyone speaks English. I address everyone with 'hola'... Also, I cannot throw paper down the loo. Automatically I chuck it in the bin. Ahh, South America, I miss you. I spot a cool sunglasses shop and have a browse. I spot a Bottega Veneta pair in the sale (*£30!!), I have to have them. I could have spent a small fortune in Ponsonby. However, I draw in the purse strings tight and head back to the hostel. We have planned to go out for green-lipped mussels and Hoegaarden tonight. How nice is food in New Zealand? Such a good tip from Kate, and the French fries were to die for. I think of Brussels and les parents et ma soeur, I miss you!

I have emailed Lisa J whom I met in Argentina to see if she is about. She is, so I arrange to see her on Monday for lunch. I am sitting in reception on Monday morning, minding my own business with a cup of tea. The lady behind the desk approaches me to ask if I fancy trying the reverse bungee opposite the hostel. Apparently, there is a Japanese film crew and they are looking for some volunteers to go on the bungee with a comedienne they are filming for Japanese TV. How can I say no? I head outside and meet the crew. All very odd. Nick, a worker at the hostel joins me. We are told that this lady is scared to go on by herself, so they have enlisted our help. Nick and I wait for her to appear, whilst drinking tea we have brought in cups from the hostel. Finally, she arrives. She is dressed in a schoolgirls outfit; I think she is about 25 ish. She has on face paint (or heavy make up); a massive painted-on mono brow and rosy red cheeks! She speaks to us in Japanese and I have no idea what she is saying. Only one of the crew speaks English, the others all speak Japanese; we are not sure what is going on. While we stand there, they head off to do some more arranging. Nick and I are very confused. I think that is probably the point though. A random woman walking down the street stops and asks Chris the time, Chris has joined us and also works at the hostel. “10.20am” he says; she walks about a metre, pulls down her trousers down and pees in the street. I am speechless. Is this part of the joke? They direct us to the three seats, on the bungee. I have watched the bungee from the confines of the hostel bedroom. It is open all day, but no one generally uses it until late at night, either drunken revellers or big groups of girls on hen dos. I have heard the whooping whilst tucked up in bed. It is now Monday morning 10.30am. Nick and I sit either side of a Japanese lady comedienne. She is wearing a schoolgirls outfit (sailor theme), she has an exaggerated black mono brow, rosy red cheeks, and a film camera strapped to hear head. She is filming us for Japanese TV. We are about to do a reverse bungee, which reaches 60 metres in the air, speeds of up to 200 kph and G Force 5.

I make my way to Parnell to meet Lisa for lunch. All so civilised, after the morning I have had. She has a car, so after lunch she drives me round the bays. Ice cream and a stroll on the beach. The last time I saw her was in a red wine fog in Argentina, when I woke up on a top bunk after a heavy night out. She was shooting off somewhere on a big day out, and I was leaving and heading down to El Calafate. We said our goodbyes and I fell back asleep. It is so nice seeing her again. She drops me in a part of town where I can catch a bus. I hope to meet up with Charlotte too, but she is down south near Christchurch.

I am booked on an early bus in the morning to Rotorua. My back is aching but there should be some thermal pools to lie in. Rotorua lies on a Maori settlement, which grew there because of volcanic activity and the natural thermal pools, which cover the area. Our bus driver sounds like Barry White. I arrive and the steam from the thermals mixes with the rainy fog that has followed me in the bus from Auckland. Its like a big cold sauna and smells like fart bombs. I find hostel and am sharing a room with five Malaysian girls. They are all working here fruit picking and now because the weather is cold, fruit boxing. This weather is shite. I wander round and find the supermarket. It has the biggest pick n mix I have ever seen. I go mad. I have booked to go on a Maori cultural dinner that evening, so after a wander round Roturua, booking a massage (sore back) and thermal dip for the following day. I head back to the room, eat far too much pick n mix, read my book and and wait to be collected from the hostel at 6pm. It is still raining, and now it is freezing. There are a few of us going to the Maori Hangi dinner and show so we pile into a mini bus and it heads out of town. The dinner would have been a great success. Except for the fact, it is cold and raining, and we are in a marquee type thing (i.e. open air). We stand in the rain and watch Maori warriors canoe down a stream behind said marquee. All in loincloths and holding burning torches. Lots of Haka chanting and big eyes. Very impressive. I am cold, wet, and now hungry. We get back into the marquee, and watch a typical Maori show. Beautiful tattoos and very emotive. Not so sure about some of the costumes all rather gaudy and fake looking, mobile phone pokets in loin cloths? Then an eat as much as you like buffet. Spot the backpackers. It is embarrassing how much they pile onto their plates (I sort of do). I eat as fast as possible just so we can finish and go home. I long for warm bed. Eventually, not much later, I am brushing my teeth and then creeping back into the black bedroom and to bed. I snuggle up and drift asleep. The most ridiculous snoring I have ever heard then awakes me. I actually thought it was outside initially. Then realise it is one of the Malaysian girls. But which one? It is coming from the far side of the room. Its fucking noisy and my earplugs are some where in my backpack, but do not know where. Bollocks. I try to ignore it. It sounds like a train or airplane taking off, it's useless. What seems like hours later I fall asleep, well I must do because I awake from 'a sleep'. I feel like I have done an all-nighter. I am groggy and tired and annoyingly have a massage and hot pool to fall into at 10am...I have to get up. The room is nearly empty. Only one of the Malaysians is there. Is she the snorer?A massage and hot pool later, I am feeling better. However, my back is sore and the masseur suggests I visit a chiropractor to check it out. I go the next morning before my bus to Taupo. A nice guy in the hostel gives me a lift. I see a Maori chiropractor who crunches and cracks me; I have never been to a chiropractor. I leave feeling totally dazed and confused. I think I feel better? Then a nice long bus ride to Taupo.
Still wet, great hostel.
Walk around lake, horizontal rain.
Soaked through.
Ed calls me just when I cant feel any worse. It's like he knows...
Cheers me up no end. Cant wait to get to Wellington and a familiar ish face.

Wellington. It is still raining.

I have texted and emailed Sally, a good friend of M. She has been living in Wellington for nearly five years. She picks me up in her Toyota Rav 4 from outside the Wellington station. It is still raining. Its Friday night and there is a party to go to. We pop back to her home, which she shares with her mum and her mum’s two Staffordshire bull terriers. I have my own room! A quick glass of wine while I change into something slightly more glamorous (I am in tracksuit bottoms, a waterproof jacket and trainers). Sally is dead glam and very gorgeous. All willowy, with long dark hair and legs to die for. I put on my trusty Earnest Sewn jeans and a top. My standard outfit. GOD I hate my wardrobe. It is so dull after six months. Then off out to sample some Wellington nightlife. There is a 'Good Morning' program in NZ similar to that in the UK. Sally is kind of seeing the main presenter. We are going to his birthday party. This means nothing to me, being tourist who does not watch TV. A hilarious night unfolds. We arrive and have to climb a steep hill. So glad I am not in heels. Wish I had some heels. We arrive, ring the bell and nothing happens. We can hear music. Sally ends calling Brendan, and he comes to let us in. It is a house party in a lovely flat overlooking the sea (which we cant see coz its dark). It full of 30 somethings all chatting and drinking wine (white). There are some half empty plate of nibbles on the coffee table (smoked salmon cream cheese rolls?) and some garish over the to boy art on the walls. Soon I am chatting away and meeting some delightful new people. I know no one, and although Sally has told me about them, I am oblivious to whom I am speaking with. I meet one girl who half way though our conversation, slips in an aside of 'do you know who all these people are?’ 'No, I don’t' I say. 'Oh well, they are all on TV, don’t you know'...anyway, I feign surprise and we continue to chat. They obsess her, as I would be if it were Richard and Judy. It is actually a very good party until Sarah interviews me. I have had three glasses of white wine, a.k.a. loopy juice, and I can feel the chemistry changing in my head. Sarah sits next to me and talks at me for about 40 minutes. Questions about my trip and what I am doing in my life. She's speaking with me and her arms are neatly folded, and her questions are thought about and calculated. She has her hair cut into a fierce 'bob', and looks at me intently waiting for my every answer. I feel like I am on Good Morning. Finally, Sally rescues me and we head out onto the balcony for a sneaky fag. An almighty commotion then brings us back into the lounge. All the guys are doing the Haka. Bearing in mind the room is full of people, and they have had to move the coffee table, it is quite a spectacle. They are all topless. Everyone is roaring drunk, but venturing into town is now on the cards. We all end up in a bar somewhere downtown, dancing very badly. All sorts of girls are after Brendan. Sally brushes them off, and stares them down. Sarah goes home I think…and this is where my memory gets a little hazy. I loose my phone and Sally. Having no way of knowing where Sally lives or what her number is. I end up going home with a guy called Nathan and his flatmate Anna. I wake up on a couch in a living room. My head hurts and where’s Sally? Anna eventually tracks down Brendan’s number and calls him. Sally is coming to get me. It is a clear ish day outside, but both Sally and I have monster hangovers. We head straight for some breakfast and then back home. I spend the only clear sunny day in ages, watching DVDs and in bed. My beloved phone is missing in action. Somehow, though, I know it is not the last I will see of it. In the evening I pull myself out of my pit and we go out for Thai, and then the cinema. It is a really cool cinema in Island Bay, and you can drink wine whilst watching the movie. The seats are wide squashy sofas. We go and see Sex and the City. I weep throughout, it's so good. Will I ever find my Mr Big? One who teats me with respect. I wake up Sunday morning, it is pouring with rain. Sally drives me into town for a bit of shopping, and a look around. I decide I need a new bra. We head into Bedon (nice underwear shop). I have never been measured for a bra. I decide to try it. For about the last 16 years I have been a 34 B, I get measured and she tells me I am a 34 D? Sorry, backtrack how did that happen?? My throat gets all-dry and I am in shock. How have I gone up two sizes? I panic about weight gain. I think I have put on a few pounds. 'Diet Factory', said in my best Melburnian. Then home for Sunday lunch. Sally’s mum has cooked us roast beef with all the trimmings, how ironic.

Monday morning I head off toward the South Island, on the InterIsland ferry.

Hair Report: Wet and flat, curly on the edges. Ruffled.

* £30 is not a lot of money for a pair of Bottega Venetas, but in the grand scheme of things, i.e my budget, it is.
My budget is skew-whiff all of a sudden.
I feel like I am in the States.
Tongue and Groove everywhere
Clean, neat, fresh.
Middle earth – didn’t go.
Hobbits – met two in Roturua.
FLAT WHITE – start of coffee addiction, which actually started in Colombia.
Diet starts today.

xxx