Signing out

Hello all! Boone here again. Sadly, it's my final night here in New Zealand so I'm writing my recap of the whole trip.

I left off my last entry right before our trip to Rotorua which was pretty awesome, I learned how to perform a haka. It was Father's Day in New Zealand but that didn't stop me from beating Dad mercilessly at Scrabble later that night. I'm a great son. The following day I took off for the Coromandel Peninsula where I found a hostel and met my flatmates, Eric and Johannes. The three of us drove to Hot Water Beach despite there being a terrible storm. Hot Water Beach has loads of geothermal activity underground so if you dig a hole at the beach during low tide it will fill up with hot water, hence the extra clever name, Hot Water Beach. We were hoping that sitting in a natural hot tub would somewhat counteract the cold from the storm, but that didn't end up being the case.

Eric and Johannes had to catch a bus early in the morning so I was on my own for the following day. I went to Hahei and hiked to Cathedral Cove, got my feet wet. There were two little dogs that were walking the trail with me, I think they lived in the area. They followed me all the way back to Hahei Beach, but when I walked up to the car I heard barking down on the beach. I could see one dog and he was barking at the waves. I couldn't see the other dog in the water but the barking dog continued to bark as he went down the beach, seeming to follow something he could see in the water. I sprinted down the beach, ready for a dramatic rescue, only to find that it was a different little dog and he was barking at the waves because he was just a dumb dog. The two dogs I had been walking with were down at the other end of the beach.

Yesterday we flew down to Wellington and explored the Beehive and Parliament building.
Outside the Parliament building is a statue of New Zealand's longest serving prime minister, Richard Seddon, 1893-1906. He was an avid opponent of women's suffrage. I found it pretty funny that the statue faces the recently-built Kate Sheppard Hotel, named after New Zealand's most prominent member of the suffrage movement (she's on the New Zealand ten dollar bill, he's not on anything). We went to a rugby game between Wellington and Waikato, I loved it, I wish rugby was bigger back in the states. Later I went out to a couple of sports bars with my flatmates, three German girls, and we watched more rugby, the All Blacks beat the Wallabies 28-24. After the game we went dancing at this pub that had a live band. Didn't get back to the hostel until 2:30.

This morning we flew back to Auckland and Mom asked me for all my 'bests and worsts' of the trip, here's a few...

Best memory - Paihia hostel
Best volcano (of the 7 I summitted) - Rangitoto
Best kiwi food - meat pies
Best Maori word - Whakarewarewatangaoteopetauaawahiao (I'm not making it up)
Worst part about driving in NZ - the 'give way' rule for lefts turns, absolutely ridiculous
Worst scare - thinking there was a puppy drowning at Hahei Beach :(

New Zealand is pretty amazing, and is completely and utterly different from America. I feel like everybody here has a generally nicer attitude towards foreigners than we do in America. There's far more unprompted help offered everywhere. Everybody is far more trusting here. You can accidentally leave a bag of groceries in the cart at the store and go back and they'll simply tell you to grab everything that was in the bag, someone will return the misplaced one. You can go to the library and check out books even though you have late fees to pay. If you don't have the money on you, no worries, bring it next time. That wouldn't happen in America. And I know these are just small examples but they build up.

The politics are completely different as well. In the US, presidential candidates campaign for about 2 years, but here in New Zealand they do it in 5 weeks. Why does it take two years for us?
The US is a completely politically divided nation, divided for the most part into two parties, Democrats and Repulblicans. Here in New Zealand there are 8 political parties. EIGHT! In the US, hypothetically every Democratic candidate for any office in Congress can lose an election 49% to 51%. Congress would be entirely Republican despite the fact that 49% of the country voted Democratic. New Zealand has a system so that every party is represented proportional to the votes nationwide, so everyone has an equal voice.

The media is completely different. They actually report on things going on throughout the whole world, whereas in America practically all I hear about is what's going on in America. There's far more positive stories than negative ones; in America I feel like all we hear about are the latest local crimes, or the next thing they're adding to the endless list of things that cause cancer. It imposes this fear in us that there's danger lurking around every corner; New Zealand doesn't have that fear. And tying this back in with politics, in the US if you're liberal you watch liberally biased news and if you're conservative you watch conservatively biased news, it's just how it goes. But here in New Zealand I don't see a lot of bias in any of the news.

The food is healthier. I know that sounds strange, but what I mean by that is (for example) a McDonald's double cheeseburger in America is literally dripping with grease, but when I order one here, it's almost dry. It's the same company, and supposedly the same product, but you can literally taste the difference. I'm pretty confident they actually add straight grease to the burgers back in the US to make them tastier. No wonder 64% of our population is overweight.

And while I love all these - what I would consider - improvements over American society, I have grown so accustomed to our rude American behavior, our biased media, our greasy food, and our imperfect democracy, that I don't think I could ever leave it. I doubt my mom will ever stop trying to persuade me to move to New Zealand, and that's all fine and well, but I'm pretty happy with my stars and stripes. Cheers, mate.

Act II, Scene 3: citybound and southbound

CITYBOUND:
On Thursday, I took Carlin and Kristen to the aquarium, called Kelly Tarlton's.  First, we got to see a scuba diver hand feeding the fish in Underwater World.  She was getting mobbed by all the fish and turtles, and I'm sure it made her feel quite popular.  There was also a Stingray Encounter with a diver feeding the huge stingrays as they moved elegantly through the water.  Their wingspan was about 6 feet!  But our favourite part was the penguins.  We rode the little snow vehicle through the penguin exhibit 3 times, watching them swim and dive and twirl in the water.  There were even baby penguins recently hatched, all fluffy and cute, and you could see them hiding under their parent, occasionally sticking out a webbed foot or a grey head.  Strangely, there were about 100 girls from my school there, on a class trip with their science teachers. It seems I can't escape school even when I'm not there.

On Friday, I went to the Auckland Zoo with Carlin and Kristen ... and about 100 students from my school. Yes, there was another class trip courtesy of the science department. Yesterday, the Year 9 girls went to the aquarium, and today the Year 8 girls went to the zoo. What are the odds? Mostly, I tried to be incognito, either wearing sunglasses or hiding under an umbrella, depending on the weather at the moment. But at each place, a few girls noticed me "Look, there's the libarry lady!" or "Hey, isn't that the libarrian?" (What I want to know is: why can't they pronounce library correctly?)

Besides girls in Diocesan school uniforms, there were plenty of exotic animals at the zoo. Seals played and wrestled while sea lions whooshed through the water. The kangaroos were disappointingly lazy, but the emu came right up to us. A mama spider monkey clung onto her baby while scolding a mischievous teenage monkey who wouldn't obey. A peacock was showing off his feathers. Carlin especially like Janie, the last of the Tea Party gorillas. Apparently, back in the 1950s, the zoo used to dress up 4 gorillas in frilly dresses and they would have a tea party for the crowd. Janie is the last one alive, and she is pretty old but still entertaining as she searches for her food, hidden in various containers around her enclosure. We also saw rhinos and hippos and lions and tigers and cheetahs. Sadly, we never were able to locate the (nocturnal) kiwi bird in its dark exhibit. We learned two new Scrabble words while we were there, but I've forgotten one of them already: spronk is what the springboks do when they jump straight up in the air as if their legs were pogo sticks. And the other new word was ???

After the zoo, we went to Newmarket for lunch where - you guessed it - I saw 2 more Diocesan students and one Diocesan teacher. I think they're tailing me. Or stalking me.

Next, I dragged Carlin and Kristen to the Auckland Museum for a short visit. I really wanted them to experience the volcano exhibit, where you sit in a living room and watch a volcano erupt a few hundred metres offshore from Mission Bay. We also briefly walked through the Maori and Pacific Island exhibits, marvelling at the giant waka and the ornate marae. After seeing a few bugs (wetas) and birds (giant moa), we were exhausted. It had been a long day. I wouldn't recommend going to the zoo AND the museum in the same day. On the plus side, I didn't see a single Diocesan student while at the museum. Whew.

SOUTHBOUND:
Once we arrived home at about 4:00, we immediately started packing for a road trip to Rotorua. Unfortunately, the traffic did not cooperate and we didn't arrive in Rotorua until 9:30. During the drive, Kristen and Carlin played Scrabble in the back seat until Kristen started getting carsick, so she and I switched places and I took over her Scrabble game. I lost badly, but kept everyone entertained which was my real objective. Even Kristen forgot about feeling icky and laughed a few times.

Along the way, we stopped for coffee at a little place in the middle of nowhere and saw the most curious mail boxes. Apparently, this cafe served as the local post office, and each local resident had a post box. This in itself doesn't seem overly curious until you look closely at their numbering system. It went
like this: 1 2 3 4 5 35 38 42 44 43 11 12 31 14 15 16 17 18 19 20. Hmmm. To add further confusion, there was a small piece of tape on box #43 that said 10. We debated the possible origin of their numbering system while drinking our coffee and, unable to come up with any reasonable explanation, moved on.

The next morning in Rotorua, we went to Te Puia, a Maori cultural centre and geothermal site. Curt and I had been there once before, a few weeks after we landed in NZ, almost two years ago.  The Maori performance was still the best part - I volunteered to do the hongi with the welcomer lady because I was the only tourist who knew what a hongi was (it's a nose-to-nose greeting). The guy doing the fierce welcome this time wasn't as fierce as the last time we were here. But the dancing and singing was great. They even invited ladies from the audience up to the stage to learn bits of the poi dance, so Kristen and I volunteered to make fools of ourselves. We twirled little white balls on their strings and tried to remember out steps at the same time, not entirely successfully. Then they invited men on to the stage to learn the haka, and Curt and Carlin gave it a go. Curt tried to be especially ferocious. After the Maori performance, we went to see the bubbling mud and the geysers. Carlin was happy when the geyser finally erupted.

Before leaving Rotorua, we had a picnic lunch at the lakefront, and walked over to an amazing church decorated with Maori carvings all over the walls and the altar and the pews. In the courtyard outside the church, we could also feel the thermal energy below our feet pushing up the pavement and discolouring the concrete.

On the way home to Auckland from Rotorua, we stopped at Hamilton Gardens and saw 4 weddings going on there! It's a popular location, obviously, for wedding pictures. Carlin and Kristen liked the Italian Garden best while I liked the Herb Garden, and Curt liked the Sustainable Garden with heaps of cool ideas.

For the last hour in the car, we played word games like G-H-O-S-T and I kept them entertained again. I kept trying to use the letter Z just because I like saying zed. We finally got home at about 8:00, and stayed up even later playing Taboo next. I haven't played Taboo in 10 years probably but I was always really good at it which infuriated Curt, who was never very good at it. That explains why we haven't played in 10 years, I guess. I have this theory that women are better at Taboo because they have more connectors in their brains from the right side to the left side. They are able to think more creatively while men tend to think linearly. In Taboo, thinking linearly is clearly a disadvantage. We played the women against the men. Need I tell you who won?

Lastly, we looked at photo albums. I had spent 6 weeks compiling 10 years' worth of memories and I needed to show them to someone so Carlin and Kristen were the lucky winners. They were good sports about it. Plus, Memory Lane is a fun place to be.

Well. It had been a busy week and an even busier weekend. But their time with us in NZ was almost over, for they were flying home to America in just 2 short days.

Act II, Scene 2: northbound

SATURDAY -
Decisions:
1. We decided to head north this weekend, to an area called Bay of Islands.
2. It decided to rain all day.
3. Kristen and I decided we wanted to stop at Sheep World, a tourist place just outside Auckland where you can watch them shear sheep, etc. Curt and Carlin weren't nearly as enamoured with chubby sheep as Kristen and I were, but they agreed to come along anyway. Besides the sheep shearing demonstration, we got to pet the sheep, feed them pellets and feed milk bottles to the lambs. They guy giving the show was admittedly corny, but we (Kristen and I) loved it anyway. The place also had talented sheep dogs who demonstrated their skill. In addition, they had goats, donkeys, rabbits, ducks, alpacas and even deer. While living in Bellingham, we used to see deer in our yard once or twice a year, but we were never able to pet them. Here, Carlin finally got to feel its velvety head.  The only bad part about our visit to Sheep World was that it decided to rain the whole time (see #2 above).  

We got back in the car to drive for a few hours, then decided to stop at the famous toilets in Kawakawa. Yes, they have the most famous toilets in the world (so they say). It was designed by Hundertwasser, an Austrian artist who lived in New Zealand for his last 30 years, and he designed these public toilets for his tiny little town. It's colourfully spectacular, with a grass roof, ceramic mosaic tiles, cobblestone flooring and a (live) tree. Kawakawa's toilets were a perfect potty stop.

We arrived in Paihia in the Bay of Islands a few hours later and spent some time wandering through the town, looking at souvenir shops and hoping to find a wool sweater for Carlin (we'd bought Nolan a wool sweater while he was here, so Carlin wanted one too). Ate traditional Kiwi fish & chips for dinner and played Scrabble in the hotel room. I can't remember for sure, but I'd guess that Curt won.

SUNDAY - Curt made French toast for breakfast before Carlin and Kristen went on their dolphin cruise. We'd been swimming with the dolphins with Nolan & Erica but if you recall, I had been seasick on the dolphin boat and therefore not very keen for a repeat performance. We sent them on the boat without us. They got to see dolphins playing and romping, but regrettably they weren't allowed to swim with them because there were baby dolphins present, and conservation laws prohibit people being in the water with the babies. Still, it was an exciting experience for them. Meanwhile, Curt and I went to see Haruru Falls, read the paper, and I took a L-O-N-G nap, getting sunburned in the process.

We packed up and left Paihia, heading back to Auckland. After a few hours' drive, we stopped at a deserted beach for a brief pit stop but ended up staying 3 hours! It was so vast and blue and pristine and perfect that we decided to change into our togs (swimsuits). I ran down the beach, went in the ocean and got knocked down by the waves a few times, feeling about ten years old. Carlin laughed at me. Curt walked along the sand, collecting shells to embellish his elaborate sand castle masterpiece. Except for a bit more sunburn, it was truly idyllic - peaceful, sunny and golden. Aaahh. The only strange thing that marred our enjoyment a tiny bit was an old man riding a quad bike up and down the beach ... naked. We couldn't really figure out if he was patrolling the beach, or if he just like riding around naked. A strange incident, in an otherwise great weekend.

On Monday, Curt and I regrettably had to go back to work, and Carlin & Kristen excitedly headed to a bach (vacation home) on the Coromandel peninsula, generously loaned by our neighbours.  They would get a few well-deserved days to themselves (they were on their honeymoon, after all). 

Act II, Scene 1: The newlyweds arrive

MONDAY - Carlin & Kristen arrived to spend the next 2 weeks with us. On their first night in NZ, we took them for a drive to the neighbourhood beach and on the way back, I gave Carlin his first driving lesson for driving on the left. It always sounds scarier than it is; people usually get the hang of it within a few days. He did fine.

TUESDAY - Curt and I had to go to work today so we sent the intrepid travellers off to explore Auckland on their own. They even put gas in my car and did the grocery shopping! I think I'm going to like having them around.

That evening, we took them to One Tree Hill for a great view of Auckland from sea to sea. New Zealand is so narrow at this spot that you can see both east and west coasts. Kristen especially liked the sheep who eat the grass on One Tree Hill (instead of using lawnmowers). We stopped at a fence and tried to entice a sheep near us, but it wasn't interested.

Back at the house, they played Scrabble while I marked papers. Curt won the Scrabble game, of course. Poor Kristen didn't realise she was marrying into a ruthless Scrabble family.

WEDNESDAY - Carlin & Kristen came to my school today for morning teatime to meet my colleagues. Then they went to Newmarket to shop (it's the ritzy shopping area), and finally they met Curt for a picnic lunch. He took them to Winter Garden, a beautiful setting in the the huge domain (park) near his office.

I've been feeling a little lost at work concerning my English class, not knowing what they did while I was gone, or what I'm supposed to be teaching them now that I'm back. Since I only teach one class, I'm often out of the loop. Well today, I got a bombshell. The head of the English Dept came to the library to see me and asked how I was doing. "You do know that reports (report cards) are due tomorrow morning, don't you?" What? I had no idea. Somehow, I thought Dec 6 was the due date for reports. Oh my. I started entering scores right away, but knew it would take me HOURS.

On top of that, I got a call from the HR guy at my school. I had applied for a job as a Social Studies teacher on Monday, and they wanted to interview me. This was good news ... but the interview was the following day, and I had to prepare a sample lesson plan. It looked like I was going to be up all night.

I would've preferred to skip choir practice and work on my reports, but Carlin was coming to practice a song with the choir so I felt I should be there. I was the one who got him roped into this in the first place. The poor guy. His own mother had talked him into performing with the choir on viola while he was here on his honeymoon. I am shameless. In my defence, I was imagining a simple hymn where he could just pick out a nice harmony line, but our director chose a longer and far more complicated song which Carlin would have to practice. (The choir was going to need lots of practice, too) At least Carlin and Kristen got to meet some of the choir folk who have been so good to us, and they were all pleased to hear him play.

Back at the house, I was madly writing reports while Carlin and Kristen played a "friendly game" of Scrabble (read: not always friendly). Eventually, everyone went to bed except me. I stayed up till 1:00 a.m. finishing stupid reports, and preparing for my job interview the next day. At least I wouldn't have to go to work the following day. I was taking it off because it was American Thanksgiving. I'd been hoping to do some sightseeing with Carlin and Kristen, but instead I would be going to a job interview ... and shopping and cooking Thanksgiving dinner.

THURSDAY (THANKSGIVING) -
Prepared a few dishes for the Thanksgiving feast that morning before I went to the job interview at 11:00. It seemed to go pretty well. I think it was more than a courtesy interview, at least. They were impressed with the student work samples I brought, including the packet of instructions all laid out for the kids - timeline, grading rubric, parent signature, etc. They liked my IT skills, too. Fingers crossed.

On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store for more turkey day supplies, but still couldn't find pumpkin pie or Durkee's French Fried Onion Rings, a necessary ingredient for the traditional Green Bean Casserole (Carlin's favourite). Eventually found a recipe to make my own french fried onion rings which was amazingly easy! As for pumpkin pie ... I decided to skip it. I don't even like pumpkin pie so I wasn't inclined to make one from scratch. Sent Carlin and Kristen to the store to buy an alternative dessert. They wisely chose something chocolate.

Made the usual turkey, stuffing, etc. but added a bit of Kiwi culture by using kumara as the sweet potato dish. When Curt got home, he started the tates and gravy. Mmmm. My favourite part. Kristen and Carlin put extra leaves in the dining room table, for we had invited our neighbours over for an authentic American Thanksgiving.

Our neighbours, Bruce and Annette and their two boys Sam (8) and Nick (6) arrived in time for some traditional pre-dinner Thanksgiving colouring: Carlin taught the boys how to make an outline of their hand and turn it into a turkey. They were suitably impressed and created some masterpieces of their own. Sam was also impressed when Carlin played a few songs on the piano for him. Sam had recently started taking piano lessons, and it was fun for him to see how years of practice could pay off. He even fetched some of his music and played for us. Sam and Nick also kept busy playing with our giant tub of Legos. It was nice to see that little boys of this generation are still enthralled with Legos, like my boys were. We explained the background of the Thanksgiving holiday to everyone, how the Pilgrims would've all starved to death their first year without help from the Indians, etc. And of course, we ate too much. But it sure was good.

After dinner, we all needed to go for a walk and burn off some of those calories, so Bruce and Annette grabbed their dog and we all went to a nearby parkland. Carlin threw the tennis ball for the dog, a golden retriever who reminded us of Duffy, the dog he'd grown up with. The little boys chased each other and ran off steam, while the adults enjoyed the conversation and the serene setting. It was a perfect way to end a lovely day.

Last year, we didn't do anything on Thanksgiving; it was just another day at work for us. So this year it was nice to have Carlin and Kristen here, and it was a prefect excuse to put on a big Thanksgiving dinner. And inviting our friends to be a part of our American holiday made it even more special.

FRIDAY - Went to work at 7:30 and got a call from the HR guy at 8:00 offerring me the Social Studies job! The Humanities Dept loved me, apparently. I was applying for a part-time position, but they wanted to know if I would take the full-time position instead. I had been hoping to teach part-time and still work in the library part-time, but had recently found out that I wouldn't be allowed to, unfortunately. After agonising indecision, I eventually decided to teach part-time: 4 classes of Social Studies and 1 class of English. But no more library, which was sad. Initially, I was a little angry that I wasn't allowed to stay in the library part-time, but I had to remind myself of all the recent whistleblower drama I had been caught up in. I was being given an opportunity to get away from that craziness and into a higher-paying job. I should be happy! Plus it felt so good that someone wanted me. 

Meanwhile, back to reality: It was getting close to the end of the school year and there were lots of special events around the school. Somehow, an English teacher forgot to come teach her class in the library 6th period. Her girls were all there, but there was no teacher. Yikes. Barbara and I did our best to manage the orphan class and run the library simultaneously. In addition, our library boss had been home sick most of the week and was not at school to teach her class, also 6th period. Unfortunately, she forgot to tell the appropriate person to secure a reliever (substitute teacher). About 20 minutes into the period, we got a frantic call at the library. Where was the Library Manager who was supposed to be teaching her class? Do we know what her class was meant to be doing? Where is the video they should be watching? So I hustled the video up to the classroom, only to find absolute pandemonium: One girl had covered her face with stickers (and couldn't see) and had two pairs of pink knickers on her head. Yes, underpants. The rest of the class was - as you can imagine - out of control. Good Lord. I removed the knicker-headed girl from the room, did my best I'm-really-mad-and-I-mean-it voice to settle the class, and turned on the movie, Romeo and Juliet. At least the knickers were clean.

At home that night I had heaps to report : the job offer, 2 unattended classes, and the girl with knickers on her head. Carlin and Kristen had heaps to report, too: They'd taken the train downtown all by themselves, shopped at the outdoor market, took the ferry to Devonport, and had fish & chips for lunch.

Carlin and I had an important conversation later that night. We stayed up late (too late) talking about my feelings that I was "losing him." Part of my sadness came from the fact that he and Kristen would be living in Phoenix, 1200 miles away from Bellingham where all our family gatherings would be. Whenever Curt and I fly back to America, Bellingham would be the logical destination ... but Carlin wouldn't be there. I hardly had any right to blame him, though because we're the ones who moved 7,000 miles away to the other side of the world. Still.  It's hard to let go, I guess.

Road Trip, Day 2

It's April 8th, which is Austin's birthday. He'll be 27. Wow. But since it's only yesterday in the States, I'll call him tomorrow on his birthday. Got that?

Today we would be taking a ferry from the North Island to the South Island, which would take about 3 hours. We knew we would have to wake up early to get to the ferry on time, and last night we were worried about getting lost and missing the boat. We seem to have a propensity for that sort of Adventure. So we scouted out the ferry terminal location while we were driving around last night during our Adventure. Not surprisingly, we took a wrong turn and missed it, but we did see where it was and we did see where we should have turned. So this morning when we drove there, we did it right! No Adventures. Hurray! Oddly, we also got stopped at a police checkpoint, looking for drunk drivers ... at 7:00 in the morning!

This morning as I was getting dressed, I made an unfortunate discovery: I had forgotten to bring a hairbrush. Honestly, I must be getting Alzheimers. The last time I had forgotten to pack a brush was when I flew to America for my dad's funeral, but at least I had a good excuse that time. This time I was just plain dumb. I would have borrowed a brush from Erica but she doesn't brush her hair; it's really curly and she finger-dries it. Curt and Nolan don't use combs or brushes or anything. So I was pretty much S.O.L for the time being. Not to mention the fact that Nolan would now have 2 things to tease me about - forgetting shoes and forgetting a hairbrush. I've been making this WAY too easy for him to make fun of me.

Meanwhile, it was a sunshiney day and a beautiful sailing from the North Island to the South Island. Actually, the Cook Strait could be a treacherous crossing at times. There was a famous ferry that sunk about 40 years ago and 51 people died. It's not exactly the Titanic, but nonetheless it is New Zealand's great maritime disaster (#4 Son would like it; he was obsessed with the Titanic for years). I tried not to think about the capsized "Wahine" as I looked out at the innocent blue water sparkling in the morning sun.

On the ferry, we'd scored 2 nice soft couches and since we had 3 hours to kill, we decided to play a game of Scrabble. I ended up winning which is a little unusual but not totally surprising. However Curt came in 4th place out of 4 people and that's NEVER happened. Perhaps he's getting Alzheimers now, too. After Scrabble, Curt, Nolan, and Erica wanted to play Hearts. But Nolan and Erica had forgotten to bring the deck of cards. Hah. I'm not the only one who forgets things. Anyway, Curt bought a deck of genuine InterIslander Ferry cards so they could play Hearts. Strangely, there seemed to be a marked card and it was - of all things - the Queen of Spades. Anyway, Erica led for 90% of the game, then lost dramatically at the end to Curt. I think he was trying to reestablish his gaming superiority after being Buck-Naked-Last in Scrabble earlier.

Once we got back on the mainland, we drove an hour or so to a winery called Forrest Estates. The area outside Blenheim is one of New Zealand's premier wine countries, so there were wineries everywhere. I picked this winery because Nolan's middle name is Forrest, and because they had a sculpture garden and a resident artist! We sat at a patio table in the sunshine and Curt, Nolan, and Erica tasted all 15 varieties. Eventually we bought 6 bottles between us. And we walked around their property, admiring the sculptures and soaking up the surroundings. It was a great way to spend the afternoon.

The Designated Driver (me) drove the next 1.5 hours along a picturesque coastal road. Nobody was carsick yet, knock on wood. We managed to stop at Ohau Point to look at a seal colony. Most of the older seals were really fat and lazy, but a few young ones were goofing around. They sure looked like they had a pretty good life laying there on the rocks, mostly sleeping away the day. I could get used to a life like that. Except for the part about getting eaten by orcas.

I drove on to our destination, Kaikoura, and found the hotel without getting lost, which is always worth mentioning. Kaikoura is a little seaside town famous for its dolphins and its crayfish. We walked around a bit, bought a hairbrush for The Forgetful One, sat on a beach, and listened to the surf. The surf sounded quite different here because it was a rocky, pebbly beach and water has a different sound when tumbling over rocks. Curt and Nolan threw rocks into the ocean and tried to skip rocks until they each threw their shoulders out. Later, we found a little seafood place to go for dinner. Mmmm. They served huge portions and we all ate too much. It was great.

After dinner we had another Adventure, scoping out tomorrow's dolphin destination. We drove all over Kaikoura before we finally found it, only a few hundred meters from our hotel. Nolan and Erica were beginning to tire of all these Adventures, I think.

New Years Eve/Sydney, day 7

Tonight is the big New Years Eve fireworks show and Sydney is already buzzing. There's about 25 or more designated areas around town with views of the harbour that are already filling up. Each area has a maximum crowd size and once it's full, they don't let anyone else in. So some places fill by noon; others don't max out till 3. But the overall message is: Get your spot early!

As a consequence, we head to the Royal Botanic Gardens right away, minus a few digressions to look at restaurant menus. (Curt's still hoping to find a Salade Nicoise. What has gotten in to that guy?) The streets are already barricaded and our bags are searched multiple times. It's OK to bring alcohol, just as long as there's no glass bottles. Instead, people bring plenty of beer in cans & wine in boxes, along with a picnic basket full of food, and some blankets or beach towels. Fortunately. we're armed with our Aussie beach towel (purchased yesterday in Manly) covered with a pattern of road signs saying Watch Out for Kangaroos and Wombats Ahead. (see the photo of me sitting on said beach towel) We should blend right in.

We arrive about 1:00, which means we'll be here for the next 11 hours. We're sitting in almost the exact same spot where Curt sat to do his sketch of the bridge on Tuesday. That day, the grass was deserted except for 2 ibis birds who kept coming over to inspect Curt's progress. Today, the same grass is covered with blankets and towels and bodies. Not surprisingly, the ibis seem to have retreated to the depths of the park, away from the lively partiers.

Some of the more experienced people remember to bring a deck of cards and one couple behind us even bring a Scrabble game, which we covet. Curt LOVES to play Scrabble, and he and Byron have become experts to the point that they know all sorts of obscure words, such as ut and qat (would you believe that ut is the old word for do in the musical scale do-re-mi?) The only problem is that Curt's such a ruthless Scrabble player that I don't play with him very often because I end up in tears about half the time. We contemplate challenging the couple behind us to a game of Scrabble, but I feel it would be rather unfair of Curt to ask to play with them, and then beat the pants off them.

We bring along some snacks for the duration, but there are also food stalls available selling things like coffee, chips (French fries), ice cream, hot dogs, and other equally unhealthy options. The whole operation is amazingly well-organized with security, porta-loos, and rubbish patrol. There are 2 wheelie bins every 25 yards - one for rubbish and one for recycling. A few event staffers walk around offering rubbish bags and people periodically get up to take a load of beer cans to the recycle bin. Remarkably, throughout the afternoon and evening I hear people calling out things like "Hey Andrew, want me take your beer cans with me? I'm on the way." If there is such a thing as 7,000 polite drinkers in one spot, this is it. I am astounded at how well organized it is and by how well behaved everyone is. Nobody is too loud or boisterous and everyone seems to respect others' right to enjoy themselves. This goes on for the next 10 hours!

Most of the time, we feel like the only people over 30 in the crowd, but eventually a man (45ish) with 3 kids (10, 12, 18) settles near us and we strike up a conversation. He credits the authorities' excellent organisation skills with the experience learned by hosting the Olympics. It's nice to talk to him for a while because by this time, we've been here for 5 hours and I can only read, write, or do sudoku for so long before I go stir crazy. Plus my butt hurts from sitting on the hard ground. I'm really too old for this kind of thing.

One thing that surprises me is how many people in the crowd bring books to read. Most of the people here are in their 20s and are spending a lot of time on their cell phone, flirting, drinking, smoking, or giggling. It's hardly the type I would expect to be reading. But there they are, all over the place, buried in a book. Out of each group of 8-10 people, 3 or 4 will be reading. I can't imagine finding a significant proportion of American young people reading at a big drinking party/event.

Whenever Curt and I get bored, we just watch the people around us:
• Meet the Cuddly Couple, in their late 20s, who nap on the blanket while she gently caresses his cheek.
• There's also the Drunk Wife, about 25, who first catches our attention as she loudly tells the story of how her husband almost didn't marry her for some reason. She manages to get totally plastered soon after we arrive so we start placing bets on how long she'll last. There's no way she'll make it until midnight! I'm guessing she'll be out by 6:30.
• And there's Drunk Wife's Husband, who doesn't seem nearly as drunk as her (but makes up for it later).
• Behind us we have a young man with a Golden Voice. I have no idea what he looks like, but with his deep baritone voice and his accent, he really should become a newscaster. As the night progresses, I learn his entire life story - how his parents divorced, etc. But what he seems to be the most proud of was that he "shagged Lisa in the shower" which he repeats a number of times at great volume. We don't believe his claim for a minute. It seems like he has more imagination than facts.

At 9:00 there is a 10-minute fireworks show for the children, so they can go home and go to bed at a reasonable time, I guess. There's still 3 more hours of steady alcohol consumption left until the big show. But about 11:00, the nice man in front of us and his 3 kids depart. I think the kids are running out of patience. The youngest has been wrestling and rolling around for hours, while the middle one plays with her cell phone.

As soon as this family leaves, their space is inhabited by a group who proceed to take pictures of themselves in all possible combinations. Curiously, one guy in the group has a really squeaky, nasal voice like Owen Meany in John Irving's book. A Prayer for Owen Meany is undoubtedly my favourite book; it's the only book I ever read from cover to cover ... and when I reached the end, I immediately read it from cover to cover again. In the book, Owen's growth was stunted and his voice was high-pitched and grating, so Irving always wrote Owen's dialogue in upper case such as "I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU WON'T COME OUT AND PLAY WITH ME, JOHN." As I read it, I could clearly hear a voice in my head that represented Owen's shrill delivery, and the guy who was now sitting in front of us seemed to personify it perfectly. Thank goodness they don't arrive until 11:00 because it would have been excruciating to endure it the entire time.

My prediction about Drunk Wife is turning out to be dead wrong - she remains totally plastered, but not passed out. She's been in this state for almost 10 hours so far. Now that's endurance. Drunk Wife's Husband keeps stumbling over Owen Meany's tripod so he wisely moves it to the other side. Meanwhile, Golden Voice is making good progress with the girl he was telling his life story to. Cuddly Couple light some incense which makes it smell like 1970 all over again. Drunk Wife's group is British, not Aussie, and they start singing (drunkenly of course) O Britannia, but they don't know any words other than "O" and "Britannia." So they switch to something about "... I know I am, I'm sure I am, I'm England till I die." Over and over. (Remember how I said that nobody is too loud or boisterous for the next 10 hours? It was during the 11th hour that people truly hit their stride.) It doesn't really seem like a good idea to start singing raucous British identity songs when you're vastly outnumbered by Australians, though. I was half expecting the other 6,990 people to counter with a blazing round of Waltzing Matilda to drown out the Brits. But they appear more bemused than anything, and manage to resist singing a reply, perhaps assuming that the Brits will get bored of singing the same 2 lines and will move on eventually. Meanwhile, this seems like a good time for me to make a trip to the porta-loos. When I return, everyone seems to have mercifully gotten over their urge to sing.

FInally, it was time for the fireworks to start. The organisers spread out the pyrotechnics around the harbour so different areas could all have a view. It starts with a big display off the bridge. It moves to a couple different spots, east of the bridge and west of the bridge. There are even fireworks exploding behind us from the tops of the skyscrapers in the city which worries me a little because it makes it look like all the skyscrapers are on fire. They explode some by the opera house, then back to the bridge and during the big finale, things are blowing up all over.

Here's Curt's impression of the evening - " If I had to sum it up in a few words, it would be: cell phones, cigarettes, boobs and booze. Boobs has a double meaning - in addition to the idiot factor fueled by alcohol, about 80% of the young women were falling out of their tops. It's a fashion trend."