Farewell

We said good-bye to Nolan and Erica at the airport this morning. And I didn't cry too much. I'm quite proud of myself.

Last night, we went out for a farewell dinner at an Italian place down by the waterfront. This area is known as Viaduct Harbour and was redeveloped to host the America's Cup in 2000. Besides all the restaurants and bars, there's a marina, boat charters, and the maritime museum. More importantly, it's still Team New Zealand's headquarters. If you're lucky, you can watch their boat going out for practice runs. At the moment, however, the boat and the entire crew are in Valencia, winning the America's Cup semi-finals 5-0 against the Italian boat, and preparing for the finals against the Swiss boat. The newspapers are already assuming victory, and the subsequent right to host America's Cup in 2010. New Zealanders are definitely fanatics about sailing and yachting. I'm not much of a sailor myself. It's just that owning a boat always seemed like a waste of money. Plus I'd get seasick. However, I still cheer for the NZ boat, and I still enjoy walking along Viaduct Harbour with the lights sparkling off the water at night. It's a great location for a farewell dinner.

At the restaurant, we had an authentic Italian waiter who was really good. I liked his accent. After exotic main courses like pumpkin-stuffed cannelloni, we still succumbed to our penchant for gluttony and ordered dessert. Chocolate of course. Yes, we ate too much, but walking back up Queen Street to get to our car helped a bit. Plus I saw a great bomb in the window of a store on Queen St. I'll have to go back tomorrow (when stores are open) and buy it.

Once we were back at the house, Nolan and Erica had to pack. It was sad to watch them closing down their life here with us to go back to life in Bellingham. Their most challenging packing problem was how to get 6 bottles of NZ wine and mead safely to America. So they'd bought a special box with polystyrene inserts to protect the bottles. It should all survive.

This morning, Curt made tates and eggies for brekkie for them one last time, then loaded all their (large) bags in our (tiny) car. At the airport, there was even a special counter for them to check their fragile wine box, along with people's oversized surfboards and such. It seemed promising that the wine bottles might just arrive intact.

All week, I had been threatening to refuse to take them to the airport, or to hide their passports, but in the end I accepted the inevitable and I'll have you know that I delivered them to the airport without a scene. Because of my earlier threats, though, they thought we were kidding again when Curt said, "You probably don't know about the $25 Departure Fee." After smiling knowingly at each other and a few nudges, they realised we were serious. There really is a Departure Fee.

As you can imagine, it's been really nice to have them here for the last 2 months. We've enjoyed their company. I try to tell myself that it'll be good when they're gone, too, because ... umm ... there'll be less dirty dishes? But I will miss having them around. Note the sad look on my face in the photo above. Then note the happy look on Nolan's face. He seems to be a little too pleased with the notion of leaving us. Hrmph. Well, I'm absolutely ecstatic that there will be less dirty dishes AND that I will have more time on the computer now that they're gone. So there.

PARTY!!!

Erica and Nolan chopped and mixed and assembled and cooked all day. And they made every dish into a work of art! Curt cleaned the bathrooms, replaced light bulbs, and picked up 2 cakes from a fancy bakery in Parnell. I hoovered (vacuumed), but that was the extent of my contribution. Then I took a nap.

Everything was ready, everybody came, and everything went perfectly! On top of that, Curt said really sweet and heartfelt things about me at the party and he earned some big-time brownie points. What more could I ask for?

Everyone raved about Erica's food. Grant ate 20 or 30 chicken skewers. Mark liked the marinated mushroom antipasto skewers. Barb was impressed by the tortilla roll-up sandwiches. Erica had also made crostini, mushroom croustades, cheese platter, veggie platter & hummus, fruit platter & yogurt dip, and my favourite - Tollhouse Chocolate Chip Cookies. I had told everybody specifically NOT to bring any presents, but a few guests brought chocolate anyway. They know me so well. Almost everyone brought a bottle of wine. I think we ended up with more bottles left over after the party (10) than we had bought before the party (7). Net gain in the wine inventory.

Upstairs, I'd put out a few toys and art supplies for the 7 kids who came. The kids kept busy most of the time by making me scads of birthday cards using fancy scissors and coloured paper and stickers. It was sweet. The oldest 2 girls, Emma and Isobella did a good job watching over the younger ones, although the playroom was still pretty messy in the end. Then Emma and her mom (Lucy) picked up all the bits of paper for me. True friends.

So many people were there! Of the neighbours, there was Matt & Maree (from whom we bought this house and who still live nearby), Brendan & Melanie, Annette, Gabrielle, and John & Margaret (a teacher at my school). Mo (a Canadian) & Simon were there, fellow expats we'd met through an expats internet forum who coincidentally bought a house right down the street. They were pleased to meet the Gowing Street neighbours, but they also connected with another Canadian (Joanne), who is married to our choir director (Mark). Besides Mark & Joanne, from church there was Ivan & Anne, Vicky & Graeme, and Jenny & Marston. Work friends included Jon & Suze from Curt's office, plus Lucy & Grant and Barbara & Derek from my library. I was especially glad to finally meet Barbara's husband, Derek, because I'd heard about him but had never actually laid eyes on him; I call him Barbara's "alleged" husband. Best of all, we got to see Rick & Bev for the first time in over a year. They had hosted us, guided us, and helped us move to NZ in 2005 but lately we've been embarrassingly lax about keeping in touch. When you add in Nolan & Erica's presence, plus me & Curt, it all added up to 30 people. I ended up with quite a collection of birthday cards, too. Of course, it helps if you provide supplies and instruct the kids to make lots. Overall, it made me feel all warm inside to look around my house, crowded with well-wishers, and see evidence of our first 1.5 years here: good friends, good jobs, good church, good house, good son who just graduated. Not bad.

But it got even better: At about 9:00, Curt and Erica brought out the desserts, one chocolate cake and one cheesecake. Excellent choices! Everyone sang Happy Birthday, but with the room full of choir members, it was a far fancier rendition than your average refrain. Then Curt handed me a glass of champagne and proposed a toast ... but first he wanted to say a few words about me. Really? I knew nothing of this plan. He went on to say that I was a wordsmith, and that I had taught him to appreciate the power of words. He said the word he associated with me was "muse" and that I'd been his muse for 29 years. He noted that muse is also the root for the words "music" and "museum" - both important words in our lives - and the root for "amusement." I do make him laugh. I'm funny. I wish I could remember everything else he said that night, word for word, but I was shocked ... SHOCKED that he would open up and profess his emotions. It's just not his style. So I can't remember how it ended. I think he wished me well for the next 50 years or something. I was touched. Then I grabbed the first piece of chocolate cake and chowed down.

After the party, Nolan said that it was the best time he'd had in the entire two months they'd been in NZ. He especially liked our neighbour Brendan, who invited us over to his house the following night to watch the rugby game/drink beer. Earlier, Brendan and Nolan had drifted over to Brendan's and so they missed the cake and the toast. Brendan's partner, Mel was furious with him for stealing Nolan when he should have been here, but I wasn't. I'm glad he got to talk to people and meet people and enjoy himself, even though he and Erica were working in the kitchen most of the evening, heating more crostini and barbecuing chicken skewers. After everyone left, we tidied up a bit and did one load of dishes. We finally got to bed about midnight which is WAY past the appropriate bedtime for an old geezer like me.

My 50th birthday

Well, today is my actual birthday. Fifty. It sure seems like a really big number. I'm old.

Erica made dinner tonight and they'd stopped at the local bakery to get some fancy chocolate tarts for dessert. Mmmm. We also opened a bottle of champagne to celebrate the half-century mark. They gave me a birthday card about old people's eyesight being so bad that they can't read the fine print, but the print was so small, I couldn't read it so I didn't get the joke. Oh, the irony. They also gave me a new bomb for our collection. Curt wrote a note at the bottom of his card that said, "You look pretty good for 50, but then again, my vision isn't what it used to be." I am not kidding. He wrote that on the card.

Then we headed downtown to go see Fiddler on the Roof! Lucy had told me that her favourite part about going to the big theater downtown was the stars that lit up the ceiling, and Lara had said to look for the lion statues with glowing eyes. The theater was indeed impressive, designed like a Moorish garden, with turrets, minarets, spires and tiled roofs. It's pretty remarkable.

Fiddler on the Roof turned out to be as good as I hoped. Topol owned the character of Tevye. He was full of energy when needed, yet old and dejected when needed. His voice had lost none of its power. It was incredible. Erica's eyes were bright and sparkling throughout the performance. She loved it. Nolan would never admit it, but he liked it too. I only sang along a few times, but I couldn't help it. Who can resist Sunrise, Sunset? Or If I Were a Rich Man? Besides, I sang real quiet, under my breath. I didn't ruin the show for anyone.

Once in Portland, I actually got to sing as loud as I wanted - we went to the Sound of Music Sing Along. It was great. They had the lyrics on the screen ... but I don't need them. I know all the songs by heart. Heck, I know all the dialogue by heart! There was a costume contest during intermission and some of them were pretty creative. People had dressed up as nuns, or goatherds, or girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes. The theater also distributed a little goody bag with props: edelweiss, drapery material, and an invitation to the Baroness's party. We had a blast. If only someone would produce a Music Man sing along ... or Fiddler on the Roof sing along.

Even though I didn't get to sing If I Were a Rich Man at the top of my lungs as I would have liked, it was still a great birthday. Sadly, 50 is also still a very big number.

Mueseum/ Mother's Day

We had another busy weekend with Nolan and Erica. Saturday we went to the Auckland Museum. Sunday was Mother's Day. Then my birthday was 2 days after that. Busy week.

1. We went to the Auckland Museum, a huge building with a brand new dome addition. I always get lost in there. The museum's displays include nature, culture and history, but Erica liked the nature stuff the best (naturally). There were all sorts of plants and animals, including fish. There were also plenty of gross-looking bugs. Nolan liked the wetas the best (naturally). There was even a giant stuffed moa - an ostrich-sized flightless bird that was hunted to extinction once humans arrived. We all liked the Maori display, especially the giant waka (canoe) and the elaborately carved marae (meeting house) that you could walk into (if you take your shoes off first). I liked the historical displays (naturally) about WWI, Gallipoli, and WWII. It was only 2.5 weeks since ANZAC Day, and there were still wreaths on the memorials and red poppies affixed to the marble wall listing lost soldiers' names.

Everyone's favourite, however, was the volcano exhibit. Curt and I are from Washington, the home state of Mt St Helens, so we have a long history with volcanoes. In 1980, we heard the BOOM, even though we were 200 miles away from the big blast. Then from 2001-2005, we had a great view of Mt St Helens out the picture window of our house in Portland where we could watch the mountain every time it decided to wake up and spew some more, which happened every 6-12 months.

In the museum's exhibit, we sat in a fake living room while watching fake news of an impending eruption in Auckland's bay. The news showed people evacuating the city, and experts evaluating the latest seismograph. There was footage of steam coming out of the bay, and then there was a huge KABOOM! The fake living room shook and nearly scared the pants off me. The lights went out and the TV screen went black. Looking out the living room's fake window, you could see the eruption, the destruction, and the ash. It was quite realistic and rather sobering. Auckland is built on 50 volcanic cones, after all.

After getting our thrills at the museum, we went to Devonport for fish and chips, with a slight detour to Devonport Chocolates (naturally). And another detour for crappuccinos (naturally).

2. Sunday was Mother's Day, which (naturally) is not a very big deal around our house because Curt doesn't want to make any holiday a big deal. He doesn't get me a present or a card or anything. (This explains why I was determined to make my 50th birthday a bigger deal by buying tickets to Fiddler on the Roof and by planning a party for myself.) Happily, this year Mother's Day was a little more special than usual because Nolan and Erica were here. I made them come to church because it was Mother's Day. Lots of people wanted to talk with them afterwards. Everyone at church always makes them feel special. That evening, Erica made salmon for dinner and it was excellent (naturally). And they got me a card. Then we watched Heavenly Creatures, which is a great NZ film, but probably not a good choice for Mother's Day because the characters in the movie kill their mother. I just hope Nolan doesn't get any ideas.

Birthday planning

I was turning 50 in a few days, and I wasn't sure how to celebrate it. I wasn't particularly pleased to be a half-century old. But if I could come up with something fun - something noteworthy - it might help me feel better about being so old.

PLAN A:
A revival of the musical Fiddler on the Roof happened to be in Auckland this month, starring Topol, its original Broadway star 40 years ago. I'm a sucker for musicals. I know the storylines in musicals are corny, but I still enjoy the songs and the costumes and the spectacle of it all. One of my favourites has always been The Music Man, in which the love interest is Marian the Librarian - little did I know that I would grow up to be a librarian! Plus it's about a marching band and has some good old-fashioned John Philip Sousa-type music in it. I love it.

So. Fiddler on the Roof sounded like a perfect birthday activity, except for one thing: I was worried that the star might be over the hill. Honestly, Topol must be at least 70-something now! One of the worst musical productions I ever saw was when an older, washed-up Broadway star agreed to reprise his role in Annie Get Your Gun. He was 60 or 70 at the time, and he wore a girdle/corset to cinch his belly, which was only partially reduced. The leading lady was played by a young woman in her twenties, and it was impossible to accept this pathetic old geezer as her paramour. Ew.

Because of this, I was sceptical of going to see an old star like Topol. I waited for the reviews - excellent. Word-of-mouth - glowing. One friend pointed out that since Topol was an old man playing an old man, it wouldn't be as bad as an old man playing a young man. OK. I'll go. The next step was to convince Nolan and Erica to come.

me: I was thinking of getting tickets for Fiddler on the Roof for my birthday.
Erica: Oooh! I'll go! (with glee)
Nolan: I've already seen it. (with dread)
Erica: Oh, come on, Nolan. I've never been to a play or musical. This will be great. (with excitement)
Nolan: Mom dragged us to plays and musicals every summer. (with disgust)
Erica: Really! What did you get to see? (with envy)
Nolan: EVERYTHING. Music Man. King and I. Man of LaMancha. Grease. Little Shop of Horrors. Sound of Music. Godspell. Good lord, I've seen them all. (with woe)
Erica: You're so lucky!
Nolan: Lucky? When you're a 10-year-old boy, you don't like to go to musicals, especially when your mom sings along. She sings along! (with embarrassment)
me: It's settled, then. I'll buy 4 tickets. (with a smile)

PLAN B:
Maybe I should have a party. It might make the event of turning 50 more palatable. Plus our friends would get to see Nolan and Erica one more time before they go back to America. The only thing wrong with parties is that they're always so much darn work. I only wanted to have a party if I didn't have to do any of the work. Presto. Erica would shop and cook and cater the whole thing. Nolan would be her driver and sous-chef. Curt would order a fancy CHOCOLATE cake (or two). I would eat the cake and enjoy the party. Perfect.

I decided to go with both Plan A and Plan B. Maybe turning 50 wouldn't be so bad after all.

More and more sightseeing

This weekend, we decided to go to the aquarium and the zoo. Erica, being the scientist in the family, was especially keen to see all New Zealand's exotic species. Nolan just likes any opportunity to see wetas.

The aquarium, called "Kelly Tarlton's Antarctic Encounter & Underwater World," was built by a Kiwi deep sea explorer and salvager named - you guessed it - Kelly Tarlton. They have a huge penguin program there and we went through that area twice. Penguins are just so endearing with their little tuxedo outfits, and the way they torpedo through the water and waddle around on land.

The aquarium also has an underwater tunnel you walk through while sharks and fish swim around and above you. Some of the fish are stunningly beautiful and colourful, but some of the other creatures at the aquarium gross me out. I'm especially repulsed by eels, and prefer to shield my face when we pass their tanks (which of course, makes Nolan seek out all eels and steer me in that direction).

In addition, we saw feeding time at the stingray tanks when a diver entered the tank and hand-fed the stingrays ... the same kind of stingray that killed Steve Irwin, Crocodile Hunter, last year. Stingrays seem so ominous, I think, because they're black and they glide through the water like Stealth bombers. Plus they're HUGE! They're as big as my dining room table. Overall, they're downright creepy, and there's no way I would ever get in a tank with stingrays like the diver did.

We ended our visit to the aquarium by buying crappuccinos and sitting at the wide picture window, enjoying the view of the sun shimmering on the bay. It's not a bad way to spend a day.

The following day, we all went to the zoo. Guess who forgot to put on their shoes and accidentally wore slippers - Curt! At least it wasn't me this time. It was another beautiful sunny day, perfect for visiting animals in this lovely setting where peacocks roamed free on the footpaths (sidewalks).

We especially liked the majestic giraffes, zebras (pronounced zebbras), lions sleeping and looking lazy, and elegant springboks. In one of the monkey areas, there seemed to be a dispute among the residents because the monkeys were all screeching and chasing and snapping and fighting with each other. The hippos lounged appropriately in muddy Hippo River. There were sea lions and little penguins splashing around, entertaining the crowd. In the cheetah enclosure, a zookeeper was sitting with 2 cheetahs and petting them as he talked to the visitors - which is even worse than being in a stingray tank, if you ask me. The tiger acted like he was the king of the zoo, but the giant Galapagos turtles roamed equally regally, and the elephants knew they were the true supreme rulers. In the Australia exhibit, the emus came right up next to us, while the kangaroos hopped around looking fiercer and more powerful than the furry, cuddly perception I'd always had of kangaroos ... from where - cartoons or stuffed animals? Now I can see that you should never mess with kangaroos.

Best of all, we attended a native fauna encounter where the zookeeper showed two of New Zealand's icons, a tuatara and a kiwi bird. The tuatara is a very ancient species – it is the only survivor of a group of reptiles that roamed the earth at the same time as dinosaurs. Tuataras can live to be 100 years old. There's not very many tuataras left, and they're only found in New Zealand. It was pretty cool to see one in person. The zookeeper also showed us a kiwi, and it was fun to see it walk/waddle around, surprisingly fast. It really went lickety-split.

Nolan has been obsessed with wetas (among other things) and he was happy to see some at the zoo. We'd mentioned his obsession to friends, and one sweet lady from choir caught a weta on her back porch to bring to him. She put it in a cup, covered it with paper and sealed it with a rubber band. Then she poked a few holes in the paper because she wanted it to be able to get some air. The next morning, the weta was gone. Uh oh. Poor June now has a weta running free somewhere in her house. And poor Nolan never did get his very own weta.

Back at the zoo, we resisted the temptation to stop for crappuccinos because we were so exhausted and just wanted to get home. Despite our tired footsies, it was an excellent way to spend the day. Later that evening I talked Curt into giving me a foot rub, even though he was the one who wore slippers the whole time and his feet probably hurt more. How do I manage these things?

More sightseeing

Nolan and Erica were ready to stay at home this week to see a few more sights around Auckland, after having spent the past week volunteering at a Dept. of Conservation site.

Since Erica just graduated with a degree in Environmental Science, she was interested in doing some conservation work in New Zealand while they were here. So they signed up to go to Motuora Island to help the ranger. They camped all week but had access to kitchen and shower facilities.

Motuora Island is a kiwi bird sanctuary where they allow kiwi babies to live in a controlled environment - an island without predators - before they are big enough to be released on the mainland. Kiwis, a flightless bird, are endangered and revered in this country. Most Kiwis (people) have never seen a live kiwi (bird), especially in the wild. But Nolan did. One night he went out with his flashlight (I mean 'torch') and saw one. According to Nolan and Erica, kiwis are also really noisy at night (they're nocturnal). At first, this seemed pretty exotic to be listening to genuine kiwis squawk at night. Then it became a little annoying. Eventually they just wished the stupid birds would shut the heck up.

On Motuora Island, the Dept. of Conservation (shortened to DoC, pronounced "dock") is also trying to restore native trees and there is a conservation society that supports this effort and organises a planting day for its members. One of Nolan and Erica's jobs was to prepare for the members/helpers and to oversee their planting. On other days, Nolan and Erica cleared bamboo and built a solar panel for the ranger's building.

Overall, it was a pretty cool experience for them, and not the sort of thing a tourist usually does. They went swimming in the ocean a few times and Erica collected LOTS of shells. They also got to see heaps of pukekos, a bird with long stick legs and big feet that walks like it's wearing clown shoes. They're blue and colourful, and cute.

As I said, after all that excitement last week, they were ready to stay home and relax a bit. So we decided to go see a few things around Auckland. On our first day, we went to meet Curt for lunch at the Winter Garden (see photo at left), walked to the Art Gallery, and then the Sky Tower. I'm afraid they didn't get to relax much after all.

The Sky Tower looks quite a bit like Seattle's Space needle except not as elegant. We took the express elevator to the viewing level and admired the view. We could see Rangitoto, the volcanic island we'd hiked up last month. We could see the ridge where our house supposedly was, somewhere in Meadowbank. We could see One Tree Hill (which doesn't have a tree ) and Devonport across the bridge. We could even see all the way to Coromandel Peninsula, where Nolan and Erica had gone for one of their getaways.

As you may know, New Zealand is the birthplace of bungy jumping and this country is overflowing with similar extreme experiences. On the Sky Tower, a person can "freefall" from the top while attached to a cable that essentially lowers him as fast as he would fall. But it stops him part-way down, so he can hover in front of the viewing level and wave to his friends. While we were admiring the views, a guy suddenly dropped into sight outside our window, dangled there for a few seconds (see the guy wearing blue & yellow jumpsuit in the photo), then continued "falling" to the ground as the cable eventually slowed him down and landed him gently on the target. I've got to tell you, it's rather disconcerting to see someone flying by.

The other opportunity for a thrill at the Sky Tower is their glass floors. While you're up on the viewing level, you can obviously look out - but you can also look directly down to the footpath through the glass floors. (notice our "frightened faces" in the photo, and notice the glass below our feet) In addition, you can see down while riding in the glass-floored elevator, which is bad enough. It's a long way down. I don't like looking down.

Well, that was more than enough thrill for us for one day. And not enough relaxing. So we headed back home to take a nap.

Road Trip, postscript

We received a speeding ticket in the mail today.

Apparently, two weeks ago on Easter Sunday at 12:30 p.m., our car was detected going 64 km/h in a 50 km/h zone. (This converts to 39 mph in a 31 mph zone) This was after we'd been swimming with the dolphins - and I'd thrown up on the boat - as we were just leaving the town of Kaikoura.

We determined that Curt was driving. He was not happy with this realisation. He spent an appropriate length of time ranting about the miniscule amount over the limit, the short length of road that was 50 km/h before it reverted to 80 km/h, the small town police force installing speed cameras so they can use tourists as a revenue generator, and the monumental pettiness of it all.

We pondered whether we should pay it or not.
In Portland, I'd once received a ticket by mail for running a red light. The streetcorner had a camera that was triggered by any vehicle running the yellow light which turned red while it was still in the intersection. But a lawyer friend had told me that the photo-tickets were actually illegal/unconstitutional and you didn't really have to pay them. So I didn't. I never heard about it again. I hoped that photo speeding tickets in NZ might be similarly invalid, but included in the ticket was a brochure (pronounced BRO-shure) explaining the technology, the legality, and the court system. Drats.

I wondered if it did any good to write a sob story at the bottom of the ticket, detailing my recent vomiting episode as some sort of excuse. Even better, we wondered if we should say that I was still nauseous and that Curt was speeding to get to the side of the road quickly so I could toss my cookies again. Sadly, we knew that a) this was a lie and b) it wasn't even a very good lie.

We paid the ticket.

Road Trip, Day 10 - Home!

We left Wellington (#2 on the map) at 8:00 a.m. and arrived home in Auckland (#1) at 6:00 p.m. Long drive.

Fortunately, we stopped ...
... at a fruit stand
... to change drivers. We all took turns - except Nolan, who refused.
... at a pie shop. Guess whose idea that was.
... at Lake Taupo to stretch our legs and admire the scenery
... at a honey and mead store. Nolan is a mead aficionado and works at a meadery in Bellingham. I'm not sure where his fascination with mead began; maybe he was an Arthurian knight in a former life. Anyway, he was quite interested in the mead industry in NZ. He and the shopowner talked knowledgeably about different varieties and different techniques, and Nolan got to try a number of samples before he selected one to buy. He was happy. But he still wouldn't drive.

Overall, it was a good trip. We got to see a lot of the South Island.
According to the odometer, we drove 2655 km (1593 m.). Here's the traditional best/worst summary:

PRETTIEST DRIVE -
over Arthur's Pass (Erica)
wine country in Marlborough (Nolan)

FAVOURITE WILDLIFE -
dusky dolphins (Curt)
slimy plankton (Erica)
Winnie the fat dachshund at the B&B in Christchurch (Erica)
sheep (Nolan)
wetas (Nolan)
lazy seals (Megan)

BEST PURCHASE -
shoes for the Forgetful One
bomb (Curt)
black leather slides (Erica)
wool sweater (Nolan)

MOST EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURE -
getting lost in Wellington so much that we had to resort to KFC for dinner against our better judgement (Curt)
learning to Give Way (Nolan)

YUMMIEST FOOD -
tiny mandarin oranges straight from the garden of the B&B in Akaroa (Erica)
pies (Nolan)

MOST MEMORABLE VIEW -
stars at night (Megan)
Pancake Rocks (Curt)
Akaroa Harbour (Erica)

FUNNEST GAME -
Scrabble (Megan, because she always won)
Hearts (Curt, because he almost always won)

FINEST PLACE TO SIT AND ENJOY THE GOOD LIFE -
on the veranda at the B&B in Akaroa (Erica)
Kaikoura beach (Megan)
Forrest winery (Nolan)

Road Trip, Day 9

Uh oh. The alarm in our hotel room didn't go off. Luckily, Curt woke up at 7:35 anyway ... but we needed to hit the road at 7:50 to catch the ferry. No time for showers. We just threw everything in the car and started driving.

The drive from Nelson to the ferry terminal at Picton is another winding road over mountains and along the coast. It only takes 1.5 hours to get to Picton, but that was enough time for Nolan to get carsick. He said he wasn't feeling too good. Curt pulled over. Nolan threw up in the bushes. All those pies he'd been eating probably didn't help.

When we arrived in Picton, we found out that the ferry was running an hour late, so it turned out that we had lots of time. Oh well. This gave Curt & Erica a chance to get coffee & tea, while Nolan and I went in search of carsick medicine. The village of Picton is little more than a ferry town, and it serves a few thousand ferry passengers every day, so I was guessing they sell PLENTY of seasick pills. Sure, enough, the chemist had a substantial selection, and recommended SeaLegs. Sold.

During the break at the cafe and the chemist's, we also used Picton's public toilet, which ordinarily would not be noteworthy except it was downright weird. Curt used it first, and reported that it played cheesy Burt Bacharach music while he was in there. Obviously, that made us all want to experience it. When you pushed a button, the door slid open like on Star Trek. There was even an automatic toilet paper dispenser that gave you an exact amount. There didn't seem to be a flusher button, but a recorded voice told me that it would automatically flush when I pushed the button to exit. It felt like something from the Jetsons.

While waiting in line for the ferry, we learned that the crossing today was going to be rough and there was a "moderate" seasick warning. Fortunately, we were freshly stocked with enough seasick medicine for all of us. And it was a good thing we were, for the crossing was indeed choppy. A few of the more miserable travellers were in the bathrooms puking, but we all managed to survive with our stomach contents intact. Oh, and we played Scrabble on the ferry (again) and I won (again).

We arrived in Wellington at about 2:00 and even though everyone would have preferred to take naps, I made them all go to the museum instead. We walked through the shopping district and along the waterfront to get there. After the long ferry ride, it felt good to be out in the fresh air and walk around ... at first. Then we walked for another 2 hours inside the museum, and before long my feet hurt. Still, Erica liked the bush walk and the skeleton of the pygmy sperm whale hanging from the ceiling. Nolan liked the bugs (again) because it had big wetas. I liked the chocolate chip cookie at the cafe.

Back at the hotel after dinner, Curt took some cold medicine for his sniffly and sneezy nose, and combined with the seasick medicine, he fell asleep at 7:15 p.m. It's been a long day. It's been a busy week. It'll be good to be back home tomorrow.

Road Trip, Day 8

Nothing much happened.
We stayed in Nelson, reported to be the sunniest spot in NZ.
It's an artsy town.
We wandered around their downtown.
Erica bought 2 pairs of shoes. She was happy.
We walked along their riverfront.
We ate good seafood.
We liked it.

Road Trip, Day 7

Today we went to see Pancake Rocks, which is a strange rock formation of layered rocks. Thankfully, the weather was sunny and warm, as opposed to yesterday's deluge. We even stopped at the beach for a picnic lunch - despite Nolan's request that we buy pie for lunch. Again.

He's really obsessed with the New Zealand meat pie which is the quintessential Kiwi lunch. They are sold in corner markets and supermarkets and takeaway shops and school cafeterias. Nolan adores them. He seems to want pie for breakfast. lunch, and dinner. He notices all the pie shops along the road - which is a considerable number. He shouts out "Pie time!" and goes through withdrawal if he doesn't get enough pies. I like pies, too, but I'm suspicious of their potential ingredients: mystery meat leftovers. Your basic pie has a reputation of being made of little more than minced offal swimming in puddles of thickening gravy. Nonetheless, Nolan is a firm member of this fan club. Yesterday, we stopped for coffee at 10:00 and he wanted a pie already. He's already had breakfast at the B&B, and it wasn't lunchtime yet, but the coffeeshop had pies, so there was really no question. He needed a pie.

Well, in this case, we stopped on the beach and ate cheese and crackers and fruit for lunch - no pies. The waves are really wild and rough here on the west coast of NZ. After lunch, we arrived at Pancake Rocks and followed the trail to the sea's edge. The wild waves have chiselled away huge chunks of the rocks, leaving pools and crevices and arches that all get splashed with violent seafoam. It's pretty impressive yet inexplicable; nobody really knows why these rocks are layered as they are. But we definitely know why they have eroded away so drastically.

There was still a few hours of driving to do today. As usual, Nolan was in the back seat doing crossword puzzles. We were bored. We wanted to help.

Nolan: OK. Who was the number one artist in 1973 according to Billboard? Nine letters.
us: Beatles!
us: Rolling Stones!
Nolan: 9 letters.
us: Led Zeppelin!
Nolan: NINE LETTERS. Begins with E.
us: Does Simon & Garfunkle fit?
(the answer was Elton John)
Before long, Nolan was thoroughly discouraged with our "help" and would really rather do the puzzle himself, which would be faster and far less exasperating. However, we were bored silly, having too much fun, and desperate to be included in any pastime that entertained us so. We agreed to take it seriously and actually help.
Nolan: OK. Who was the number one artist of the rock and roll era, according to Billboard? 12 letters.
us: Beatles!
us: Simon & Garfunkle!
us: Queen!
Nolan: TWELVE LETTERS, people! The fourth letter is I.
us: Michael Jackson!
us: Madonna!
Nolan: Oh, come on. You guys are impossible. Why don't you do your own puzzle from the other crossword puzzle book instead of ruining mine?
us: Because that's full of New York Times crossword puzzles and they're too hard for us. Please let us help. We promise we'll do it right this time. Please?
Nolan: Oh, all right. 12 down. Actress Ruby.
me: Dee! Ruby Dee! See, I am helpful!
Nolan: Very good, Marm. How about ... Oscar-winning role for Hanks.
us: That guy on Castaway!
Nolan: I need a name. 4 letters.
us: The guy with AIDS ... in that one movie.
Nolan: FOUR LETTERS.
me: I think his name was John. In Castaway. That's 4 letters.
Nolan: John? I'm not so sure I'm going to take your word for it.
me: Don't you trust me?
Nolan: No, Mom, I don't trust you. Why? Because you shout out Led Zeppelin when I want a 4-letter word, and because you can't even REMEMBER YOUR SHOES.

The answer was Gump.