It's hard to believe it's been almost four months since our trip. It seems like so recent... Yet, at the same time, so long ago.
All my memories of our trip are in vibrant colors. I can see the dark turquoise ocean, bright green hills, brown mountains, and crystal sky from Kaikoura, or the creamy clouds over the cool blue ocean of Cape Foulwind. Once I start thinking about it my mind flips through color pallets of all our different spots-- my memories are like the picture album we finally finished putting together. They are both brighter and more alive than the pictures (because of movement and other senses), but also almost dreamlike. I'm dreading the day they become covered with a veil of fog in my mind. Hopefully that will never happen.
Don't get me wrong, I love being home. I really enjoy living in Eugene; I love the weather, the culture, the activities, the people. But still, I am incredibly nostalgic. The feeling is not even completely nostalgia-- it has more mourning in it. I feel like I have lost something so dear, so amazing. I miss spending the time with just my parents, having that tiny world-- despite the small size of my acquaintance list, I felt so free. Like I had enough space to (excuse the cliche) spread my wings and be myself, to run wild and hug tightly. I felt so pure. So completely content in living in that particular moment, yet willing to move on.
Right this instant the feeling of the salty, humid air of Cylinder beach blowing over the ocean into my face is fresh in my mind.
I want to go back and live that over and over again. I just miss it so, so, so much. I never knew the cliche "heart-wrenching" could feel so strong and real.
Well, this is officially my final post (I really shouldn't say that. Maybe when I'm 102 years old I'll decide to write another post about how I still remember everything as clearly as if I were there. I really hope that happens).
Thanks for reading.
Goodnight, and goodbye.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Home
I'm home.
Wow. It feels weird, almost like I never left.
The flights were okay, of course long. On the 11 hour one I watched movies I have been meaning to get around to seeing, in particular Twilight and Slumdog Millionaire, which were both on the good side of okay. I even slept a few hours, which was unexpected but nice.
It was weird when we finally got to the US-- I almost had a little culture shock, although less big cultural differences and more little customary differences: everything was in Fahrenheit, the date was written as month/day/year (I was staring at a form for the longest time through my sleep deprived eyes and brain, trying to figure out what the 22nd month of the year was), people walked and drove on the right, and all announcements were said in very funny sounding accents.
We met my dad at SFO, and it was amazing to see him. I missed him a lot. We were all booked together on the flight from SFO to EUG.
P and her husband B picked us up at the Eugene airport, and it was very nice to see them too-- I missed them so much.
It was cold and rainy out, but felt amazing. The air smelled like home, like clean, cold, rainy home. everything is perfect. When we actually got to our house it was more home-y feelings-- the most so when I saw the cats. I think Jason (one of the cats) actually remembered me and has forgiven me for the time being, although knowing him he'll probably be mad and avoid us for the next few weeks. Oh well, at least we get to see him.
Many things here are actually weird and confusing-- things I was so used to before. For example, when I tried to turn on the shower I pulled the handle, like the shower was in Christchurch-- not like the one you turn here at home. My computer screen seemed so humongous, and the mouse so strange and foreign (we have been using just a track pad for 3 months). I, an adamant Mac lover, even keep trying to use the control key, like one does on a PC, rather than the apple key.
Other little things seem almost unfamiliar, which is a little unsettling. Something about the previously extremely familiar drive home seemed a little less familiar, and the stack of boxes that have sat in the same spot in the garage all my life caught my eye as different or new.
This may sound extremely materialistic, but I'm also very happy to have all my stuff that I left behind-- my painting supplies, my books, my pens, even my clothes.
It almost feels like we never left-- like we're just starting where we left off. I have the strangest feeling that it's the end of December, maybe January, which is when we left. Certainly Valentine's Day is far off in the future, and Easter might as well be years away. It's a little odd to think it's March. It's like the whole trip was a dream, or like it took place on an alternate time line or reality. In some ways, imagining walking on the beach in Straddie feels so far away; but it also feels so real and close, like I can still feel the strong warm waves swaying around my ankles.
One thing which is good, I'm amazingly not on the wrong time schedule. When we arrived I had no idea what time it was-- neither in the real world or my internal clock. It was like everything reset, and it really didn't matter to me if it was 12:00 or 6:00, except that those times would constitute the need for different meals. I felt like I could fall asleep right then, or in six hours-- whichever the clock told me to do.
I know I said this before, but it really feels like a dream. We were gone for awhile, and did so much on our trip. Maybe it's because Eugene and our house has hardly changed-- the house sitter didn't move anything around, etc. The candy canes from Christmas are still sitting on top of a box on the coffee table.
One amazingly nice thing knocked on our door about 7:00, just as we had finished dinner and were starting to organize our endless amounts of stuff-- it was our next door neighbors, a wonderful couple whom you, reader, probably have a connection to if you live in Eugene-- they have a large family, all very nice, smart, successful, and most of whom still live near by. G and S, who are the parents of the whole clan, came to our door with fresh baked chocolate chip and nut cookies, so fresh that the butter was still warm and the chocolate still gushy. They were amazingly delicious. That was one of the nicest things anybody has every done-- it made me feel so welcomed and at home.
There is so much unpacking to do. I'm going to try to finish all of my personal unpacking tomorrow, and hopefully dodge the shared unpacking. I should really get to work on schoolwork.
I'm so excited it's Spring Break! I have time to relax, catch up in school, paint, sew, and spend time with my brothers. I am very happy right now, partially because the image of the feeling of the melted chocolate in the buttery, sweet cookies is still fresh in my mind from remembering it to write about above. But really, I have a huge amount to look forward to-- I'm going to be very busy over spring break, but all of the things I have to do have very high potential of being fun.
Good-night, everybody. I had a simply amazing trip (more like utterly amazing-- simple doesn't really capture it).
I had a sudden wave of exhaustion, and just remembered I haven't slept much in awhile. So much for that "i could sleep in one hour or six hours" shpeal I was giving above. I'm going to bed. To my soft, memory-foam mattress, Star Trek sheeted bed, tucked under the quilt I made last summer. Mmmm, that sounds so amazingly nice.
Good night.
Wow. It feels weird, almost like I never left.
The flights were okay, of course long. On the 11 hour one I watched movies I have been meaning to get around to seeing, in particular Twilight and Slumdog Millionaire, which were both on the good side of okay. I even slept a few hours, which was unexpected but nice.
It was weird when we finally got to the US-- I almost had a little culture shock, although less big cultural differences and more little customary differences: everything was in Fahrenheit, the date was written as month/day/year (I was staring at a form for the longest time through my sleep deprived eyes and brain, trying to figure out what the 22nd month of the year was), people walked and drove on the right, and all announcements were said in very funny sounding accents.
We met my dad at SFO, and it was amazing to see him. I missed him a lot. We were all booked together on the flight from SFO to EUG.
P and her husband B picked us up at the Eugene airport, and it was very nice to see them too-- I missed them so much.
It was cold and rainy out, but felt amazing. The air smelled like home, like clean, cold, rainy home. everything is perfect. When we actually got to our house it was more home-y feelings-- the most so when I saw the cats. I think Jason (one of the cats) actually remembered me and has forgiven me for the time being, although knowing him he'll probably be mad and avoid us for the next few weeks. Oh well, at least we get to see him.
Many things here are actually weird and confusing-- things I was so used to before. For example, when I tried to turn on the shower I pulled the handle, like the shower was in Christchurch-- not like the one you turn here at home. My computer screen seemed so humongous, and the mouse so strange and foreign (we have been using just a track pad for 3 months). I, an adamant Mac lover, even keep trying to use the control key, like one does on a PC, rather than the apple key.
Other little things seem almost unfamiliar, which is a little unsettling. Something about the previously extremely familiar drive home seemed a little less familiar, and the stack of boxes that have sat in the same spot in the garage all my life caught my eye as different or new.
This may sound extremely materialistic, but I'm also very happy to have all my stuff that I left behind-- my painting supplies, my books, my pens, even my clothes.
It almost feels like we never left-- like we're just starting where we left off. I have the strangest feeling that it's the end of December, maybe January, which is when we left. Certainly Valentine's Day is far off in the future, and Easter might as well be years away. It's a little odd to think it's March. It's like the whole trip was a dream, or like it took place on an alternate time line or reality. In some ways, imagining walking on the beach in Straddie feels so far away; but it also feels so real and close, like I can still feel the strong warm waves swaying around my ankles.
One thing which is good, I'm amazingly not on the wrong time schedule. When we arrived I had no idea what time it was-- neither in the real world or my internal clock. It was like everything reset, and it really didn't matter to me if it was 12:00 or 6:00, except that those times would constitute the need for different meals. I felt like I could fall asleep right then, or in six hours-- whichever the clock told me to do.
I know I said this before, but it really feels like a dream. We were gone for awhile, and did so much on our trip. Maybe it's because Eugene and our house has hardly changed-- the house sitter didn't move anything around, etc. The candy canes from Christmas are still sitting on top of a box on the coffee table.
One amazingly nice thing knocked on our door about 7:00, just as we had finished dinner and were starting to organize our endless amounts of stuff-- it was our next door neighbors, a wonderful couple whom you, reader, probably have a connection to if you live in Eugene-- they have a large family, all very nice, smart, successful, and most of whom still live near by. G and S, who are the parents of the whole clan, came to our door with fresh baked chocolate chip and nut cookies, so fresh that the butter was still warm and the chocolate still gushy. They were amazingly delicious. That was one of the nicest things anybody has every done-- it made me feel so welcomed and at home.
There is so much unpacking to do. I'm going to try to finish all of my personal unpacking tomorrow, and hopefully dodge the shared unpacking. I should really get to work on schoolwork.
I'm so excited it's Spring Break! I have time to relax, catch up in school, paint, sew, and spend time with my brothers. I am very happy right now, partially because the image of the feeling of the melted chocolate in the buttery, sweet cookies is still fresh in my mind from remembering it to write about above. But really, I have a huge amount to look forward to-- I'm going to be very busy over spring break, but all of the things I have to do have very high potential of being fun.
Good-night, everybody. I had a simply amazing trip (more like utterly amazing-- simple doesn't really capture it).
I had a sudden wave of exhaustion, and just remembered I haven't slept much in awhile. So much for that "i could sleep in one hour or six hours" shpeal I was giving above. I'm going to bed. To my soft, memory-foam mattress, Star Trek sheeted bed, tucked under the quilt I made last summer. Mmmm, that sounds so amazingly nice.
Good night.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
"Malasis." Hm. no, it must be "malasys." Hm, still no good spelling suggestions. Well, let's try "mole asses." Theerreee. THat worked.h
Sunday, 22 March 8:33 pm
We have to leave tomorrow.
Tomorrow. As in the day after today, as in the morning will be the last time I am going to wake up in this bed. It’s hard to imagine, it felt as if we just got here.
We have had fun the last week. On Wednesday we took a trip to the International Antarctic Center, which is a tourist science museum/zoo about Antarctica attached to a number of buildings that are various countries’ bases for Antarctica trips. We saw little blue penguins being fed (the same type we say wild), and many exhibits. The best part of it though was at the end, when we got to take a ride in a “haglann,” a type of vehicle scientists use to get around in Antarctica. They had set up a course behind the building, with giant hills to drive over with slopes of 45 degrees, over a meter of water to drive through. The hills were terrifying but exhilarating—we only had small seat belts (and mine didn’t want to stay taught), and hooks from the ceiling to hold on to like a subway car. The water was scary because it came over the window of the car. M and I commented on how useful the vehicle would have been in Fiji.
This weekend we had fun also. Yesterday morning we drove out to Sumner, a neighborhood with a large beach about 30 minutes from our house. It was raining, but I was actually glad of it because it meant the beach wasn’t crowded (besides, a beach isn’t a beach without cold rain). We then took a long drive along the summit of a hill range by the city, with offered amazing views of the whole town (that is, when we weren’t inside a very thick cloud—as I said, it was a little stormy that day). We got lunch at a vaguely strange little restaurant/tea room, but it was nice anyways. When we got home we started packing.
I don’t like packing. Well, that isn’t quite true. Packing can be fun and satisfying, but not when I don’t want to leave and the objects we have to put in the suitcases don’t fit. The main problem is I have piles and piles of books, most of which are textbooks. We have a weight limit of 23 kilos per bag, which means we have to distribute the books among our four suitcases (two giant black ones and two duffels). Living here we have spread objects around every single room of the house, which makes the job of finding everything a little difficult.
Today we went back into the city to do some gift shopping. That was nice, although again it was very cold and rainy. I got a jade necklace from one of the booths at the art center, which I love. For lunch we met M’s host at the University and his family at a vaguely famous restaurant at a corner of the arts center. Last time we were in Christchurch, seven years ago, we asked for soy sauce (I think T had rice or something). A while later they brought us a little bottle of molasses. I think by now there are enough Asian and American immigrants to know what soy sauce is, but apparently not back then.
This afternoon we again were packing. It’s a little depressing—I can’t believe we have to get on a plane tomorrow. Tomorrow (well, that depends on how the word is defined. I actually think ‘tomorrow’ is a relative term, which would mean my using it here would not be correct as we will all experience 45 hours before then—but perhaps the word means a comparison in the date. Anyways, Monday) night we will be in Eugene. All the clothes are gone from my drawers, and all that is left to pack is the toothpaste, computer, and other various things we will need tomorrow.
Well, I’m going to stop writing now. I just don’t understand what happened to the time—it really does feel like we just left Eugene. There will be so much work when we get home—a huge amount of unpacking, then organizing pictures and whatnot.
I am excited to get home for many reasons. I’m really excited to see my dad again, and the cats. Hopefully they haven’t forgotten us! We’ve never been gone from them for more than two weeks—we got them right after our last trip to the South Pacific. I’m excited for my room, my computer, my memory foam mattress. And to see all my brothers, whom I will over spring break. I’m excited for my painting supplies, the sewing machine, all my little knickknacks, and to play tennis again. I am also excited for school, even a little bit for the social-ness—I’m not a big fan of high school, especially the social wrestling arena, but I am excited to see my friends again.
I feel a little better now.
Just a little, though.
p.s. The BBC Pride and Prejudice mini-series is AMAZING. We only had time to watch four out of six, and although I know the story very well I am very anxious that Elizabeth will never forgive or understand Mr. Darcy…
We have to leave tomorrow.
Tomorrow. As in the day after today, as in the morning will be the last time I am going to wake up in this bed. It’s hard to imagine, it felt as if we just got here.
We have had fun the last week. On Wednesday we took a trip to the International Antarctic Center, which is a tourist science museum/zoo about Antarctica attached to a number of buildings that are various countries’ bases for Antarctica trips. We saw little blue penguins being fed (the same type we say wild), and many exhibits. The best part of it though was at the end, when we got to take a ride in a “haglann,” a type of vehicle scientists use to get around in Antarctica. They had set up a course behind the building, with giant hills to drive over with slopes of 45 degrees, over a meter of water to drive through. The hills were terrifying but exhilarating—we only had small seat belts (and mine didn’t want to stay taught), and hooks from the ceiling to hold on to like a subway car. The water was scary because it came over the window of the car. M and I commented on how useful the vehicle would have been in Fiji.
This weekend we had fun also. Yesterday morning we drove out to Sumner, a neighborhood with a large beach about 30 minutes from our house. It was raining, but I was actually glad of it because it meant the beach wasn’t crowded (besides, a beach isn’t a beach without cold rain). We then took a long drive along the summit of a hill range by the city, with offered amazing views of the whole town (that is, when we weren’t inside a very thick cloud—as I said, it was a little stormy that day). We got lunch at a vaguely strange little restaurant/tea room, but it was nice anyways. When we got home we started packing.
I don’t like packing. Well, that isn’t quite true. Packing can be fun and satisfying, but not when I don’t want to leave and the objects we have to put in the suitcases don’t fit. The main problem is I have piles and piles of books, most of which are textbooks. We have a weight limit of 23 kilos per bag, which means we have to distribute the books among our four suitcases (two giant black ones and two duffels). Living here we have spread objects around every single room of the house, which makes the job of finding everything a little difficult.
Today we went back into the city to do some gift shopping. That was nice, although again it was very cold and rainy. I got a jade necklace from one of the booths at the art center, which I love. For lunch we met M’s host at the University and his family at a vaguely famous restaurant at a corner of the arts center. Last time we were in Christchurch, seven years ago, we asked for soy sauce (I think T had rice or something). A while later they brought us a little bottle of molasses. I think by now there are enough Asian and American immigrants to know what soy sauce is, but apparently not back then.
This afternoon we again were packing. It’s a little depressing—I can’t believe we have to get on a plane tomorrow. Tomorrow (well, that depends on how the word is defined. I actually think ‘tomorrow’ is a relative term, which would mean my using it here would not be correct as we will all experience 45 hours before then—but perhaps the word means a comparison in the date. Anyways, Monday) night we will be in Eugene. All the clothes are gone from my drawers, and all that is left to pack is the toothpaste, computer, and other various things we will need tomorrow.
Well, I’m going to stop writing now. I just don’t understand what happened to the time—it really does feel like we just left Eugene. There will be so much work when we get home—a huge amount of unpacking, then organizing pictures and whatnot.
I am excited to get home for many reasons. I’m really excited to see my dad again, and the cats. Hopefully they haven’t forgotten us! We’ve never been gone from them for more than two weeks—we got them right after our last trip to the South Pacific. I’m excited for my room, my computer, my memory foam mattress. And to see all my brothers, whom I will over spring break. I’m excited for my painting supplies, the sewing machine, all my little knickknacks, and to play tennis again. I am also excited for school, even a little bit for the social-ness—I’m not a big fan of high school, especially the social wrestling arena, but I am excited to see my friends again.
I feel a little better now.
Just a little, though.
p.s. The BBC Pride and Prejudice mini-series is AMAZING. We only had time to watch four out of six, and although I know the story very well I am very anxious that Elizabeth will never forgive or understand Mr. Darcy…
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
West Coast
Tuesday, 17 March 8:38 pm
I had the most amazing weekend. M and I took a trip to the west coast, staying there for two nights and driving a big loop to and from.
The beginning of the drive Saturday morning was a little boring, both because it is through plains and because we had done some of it before when we were driving to Kaikoura. Eventually, though, we started coming into mountains, when it started getting pretty. We searched for awhile for a picnic spot, finally finding one good enough; it was by a bridge, over a large, deep, blue river. The bridge was on a side road that we had to hop a fence to get to, but figured it was okay because nothing on it said “no admittance” or “private property.” A few minutes down the road there were many more stops by the river, some even with picnic tables.
As we crossed the pass, which wasn’t very dramatic on this road, the plants started changing—soon instead of mostly bushes and a few deciduous trees we were driving through deep green forests, much more similar to what I’m used to in Oregon. It was very beautiful. The weather was very good, which helped.
After a four or five hour drive we got to where we were staying on the west coast, a little town named Cape Foulwind (good name, eh?). The motel at first was a little disappointing, as we hoped for an ocean view and could only see a little sliver of blue horizon through the plants. It had a hottub, which was very nice, and the owners were quite sweet.
That afternoon we took a walk, down to a little gorgeous driftwood, cliff-enclosed beach, then along the bluff of the cape. For some reason I was very tired, and the whole time just felt like lying down and sleeping, but it was still fun. That evening we had dinner at “the Tavern,” a bar/bistro next door to the motel, a place where when we came in the bartender asked our names and shook our hands, then introduced us to a few other people there. We ordered steak (mmmmm), then went outside to their lawn to wait for food.
While we were waiting, and later eating, three little girls played on the small playground that was in the corner of the lawn. They were adorable; two were 5 or 6, and one was three. They kept having problems getting on the sea saw, as it was very high up, so eventually M and I had the job of holding it down for them. At first we tried to explain and help them balance the small three-year-old with the larger of the six-year-olds, before giving up and deciding they would figure it out eventually. Soon they were calling over to us to help them get down from it. The three year old was amazingly adorable. The steak was yummy as well.
That night we went to the hot tub, which they had a little whiteboard so people could sign up for times. This meant we had the tub on a steep slope among fern trees and other green plants to ourselves, which was nice. Hot tubs are almost as good as pools, which are up there with trampolines.
The next day we drove 45 minutes south to Punakaiki. The drive was beautiful, and near Punakaiki reminded me very much of the Oregon coast; there were steep hills falling into crashing ocean, with the road hovering over the waves, the hills covered in a thick layer of green—the only difference was what the green was. Amazing as it sounds, there were palm trees mixed in with the normal forest greens of New Zealand; the weather there is pretty temperate year-round, so they have little microclimates, where some sub-tropical plants grow.
We took a short walk, then a longer one up a river. That walk was stunning—the trail hugged the side of a river bank, which lay in a steep river valley. We found a perfect picnic spot down a scramble to a rocky beach by the river, where we had a wonderful picnic. Later on the walk my mom told me about people she knew in high school; teachers, friends, old boyfriends. It was fun to hear all about that.
After the walk we went to see the Pancake Rocks, Punakaiki’s main tourist attraction. The paved path through tall, thick, coastal grass with lookouts to see the spiky layered rocks was strangely familiar, I assume because we saw them last time we came to New Zealand. They were neat, although there were a lot of tourists there. We went at high tide to see the blowhole, a place where at high tide water sprays into the air out of nowhere, but after 20 minutes of waiting in the sun leaned over a railing next to couples and teenagers speaking Japanese and Swedish, we got bored and left.
When we got back to Cape Foulwind, we drove around a little, and took a walk to see a seal colony (New Zealand really loves their fur seals. I must say, the babies are quite adorable). That night we went to the one nice restaurant around there, which wasn’t more expensive than even the Tavern, and sat nestled in a hill looking into a beautiful bay and the ocean beyond. When we went there earlier in the day to make a reservation, at first we almost left because the waitress said they were booked. It turned out nobody wanted to sit out on their large porch, which is exactly where we wanted to sit, so we ended up getting a very good seat. It was a little cold after the sun escaped behind the bluff, but was still fun. The food was amazing—my favorite was New Zealand mussles (the best there are), cooked in coconut milk, lime, and some Thai flavors—it sounds bizarre, but it was delicious. (B, if you read this, please don’t give this idea to T—we’re going to surprise him by serving it to him over spring break).
That evening we also went to the hot tub, then went to sleep.
The next day we had to drive home, sadly. The drive started off along the same road we drove on the day before, which was still beautiful. Eventually the road turned away from the coast and strait into towering mountains, some with sparking glaciers perched on the tops of them. The drive got prettier and prettier—it was spectacular. Although the distance going this direction was shorter, the drive took much longer—more like six hours (although it was supposed to take seven—our car accelerates very well). The road was much thinner and curvier, going over and through much more dramatic mountains. The trucks on the road went painfully slowly, but M is getting very good at driving like a Kiwi and passing whenever the vehicle in front isn’t going 110 km/h. The drive was just stunning—around the pass especially. The mountains were tall and steep, and there were huge valleys and gushing rivers. We stopped in a town called Arthur’s Pass, near the actual Arthur’s Pass on the road, where we were going to just stop and take a picture, maybe buy some fruit (which proved to be hard—we ended up with California oranges). That turned into a little walk, which in turn turned into a longer hike. That walk was the most beautiful I’ve gone on this trip. It at first crossed bridges over blue rivers in a large rocky flood plain, but soon shot up into the hills. The trail was so steep at least half of it was on well-made large wooden stairs, which was tiring was fun. We went up a couple hundred feet, then down a hundred, until we got to the base of a spectacular 100+-foot waterfall we could see from the beginning of the hike. It was supposed to take half an hour each way, which I think it did, but it felt like about five minutes. At the platform we posed for a picture we asked a pair up there to take, then took a picture for them, then they took a picture for the final pair on the platform. M sat down to peel our oranges, which were delicious—they were sweet and juicy, a perfect reward for the hike. The view was amazing—the waterfall itself was tall and white, gushing down the cliff side to a pool below, with fed a stream and a shorter waterfall right below the wooden lookout we stood on. The other direction we could see white-peaked mountains and green hills. Walking down was almost harder than walking up because it was so steep, but soon we were back in the car park.
The next couple hours of the drive were just as spectacular, at first going through brown fields encased with shattering brown peaks. The area was scattered with lakes that were so blue they looked fake—I imagined a painting with lakes that color, seeing how silly and weird they would look on a canvas in front of the tall brown mountains. Soon it suddenly turned New Zealand green again, with grassy hills. Eventually, though, we got into the Canturbury plains, which really aren’t that pretty. They’re nice for a little bit, because of the massive hedgerows and fat sheep, but get boring quickly. They’re only right around Christchurch, though, so we didn’t get too much of them.
And now, I am home. M’s computer broke, something with the battery—it only works plugged in. She found a place on it where it said battery, then had a switch that was switched to “unlock.” She locked it, so hopefully the comp will be all better now.
I should go to bed. Goodnight.
I had the most amazing weekend. M and I took a trip to the west coast, staying there for two nights and driving a big loop to and from.
The beginning of the drive Saturday morning was a little boring, both because it is through plains and because we had done some of it before when we were driving to Kaikoura. Eventually, though, we started coming into mountains, when it started getting pretty. We searched for awhile for a picnic spot, finally finding one good enough; it was by a bridge, over a large, deep, blue river. The bridge was on a side road that we had to hop a fence to get to, but figured it was okay because nothing on it said “no admittance” or “private property.” A few minutes down the road there were many more stops by the river, some even with picnic tables.
As we crossed the pass, which wasn’t very dramatic on this road, the plants started changing—soon instead of mostly bushes and a few deciduous trees we were driving through deep green forests, much more similar to what I’m used to in Oregon. It was very beautiful. The weather was very good, which helped.
After a four or five hour drive we got to where we were staying on the west coast, a little town named Cape Foulwind (good name, eh?). The motel at first was a little disappointing, as we hoped for an ocean view and could only see a little sliver of blue horizon through the plants. It had a hottub, which was very nice, and the owners were quite sweet.
That afternoon we took a walk, down to a little gorgeous driftwood, cliff-enclosed beach, then along the bluff of the cape. For some reason I was very tired, and the whole time just felt like lying down and sleeping, but it was still fun. That evening we had dinner at “the Tavern,” a bar/bistro next door to the motel, a place where when we came in the bartender asked our names and shook our hands, then introduced us to a few other people there. We ordered steak (mmmmm), then went outside to their lawn to wait for food.
While we were waiting, and later eating, three little girls played on the small playground that was in the corner of the lawn. They were adorable; two were 5 or 6, and one was three. They kept having problems getting on the sea saw, as it was very high up, so eventually M and I had the job of holding it down for them. At first we tried to explain and help them balance the small three-year-old with the larger of the six-year-olds, before giving up and deciding they would figure it out eventually. Soon they were calling over to us to help them get down from it. The three year old was amazingly adorable. The steak was yummy as well.
That night we went to the hot tub, which they had a little whiteboard so people could sign up for times. This meant we had the tub on a steep slope among fern trees and other green plants to ourselves, which was nice. Hot tubs are almost as good as pools, which are up there with trampolines.
The next day we drove 45 minutes south to Punakaiki. The drive was beautiful, and near Punakaiki reminded me very much of the Oregon coast; there were steep hills falling into crashing ocean, with the road hovering over the waves, the hills covered in a thick layer of green—the only difference was what the green was. Amazing as it sounds, there were palm trees mixed in with the normal forest greens of New Zealand; the weather there is pretty temperate year-round, so they have little microclimates, where some sub-tropical plants grow.
We took a short walk, then a longer one up a river. That walk was stunning—the trail hugged the side of a river bank, which lay in a steep river valley. We found a perfect picnic spot down a scramble to a rocky beach by the river, where we had a wonderful picnic. Later on the walk my mom told me about people she knew in high school; teachers, friends, old boyfriends. It was fun to hear all about that.
After the walk we went to see the Pancake Rocks, Punakaiki’s main tourist attraction. The paved path through tall, thick, coastal grass with lookouts to see the spiky layered rocks was strangely familiar, I assume because we saw them last time we came to New Zealand. They were neat, although there were a lot of tourists there. We went at high tide to see the blowhole, a place where at high tide water sprays into the air out of nowhere, but after 20 minutes of waiting in the sun leaned over a railing next to couples and teenagers speaking Japanese and Swedish, we got bored and left.
When we got back to Cape Foulwind, we drove around a little, and took a walk to see a seal colony (New Zealand really loves their fur seals. I must say, the babies are quite adorable). That night we went to the one nice restaurant around there, which wasn’t more expensive than even the Tavern, and sat nestled in a hill looking into a beautiful bay and the ocean beyond. When we went there earlier in the day to make a reservation, at first we almost left because the waitress said they were booked. It turned out nobody wanted to sit out on their large porch, which is exactly where we wanted to sit, so we ended up getting a very good seat. It was a little cold after the sun escaped behind the bluff, but was still fun. The food was amazing—my favorite was New Zealand mussles (the best there are), cooked in coconut milk, lime, and some Thai flavors—it sounds bizarre, but it was delicious. (B, if you read this, please don’t give this idea to T—we’re going to surprise him by serving it to him over spring break).
That evening we also went to the hot tub, then went to sleep.
The next day we had to drive home, sadly. The drive started off along the same road we drove on the day before, which was still beautiful. Eventually the road turned away from the coast and strait into towering mountains, some with sparking glaciers perched on the tops of them. The drive got prettier and prettier—it was spectacular. Although the distance going this direction was shorter, the drive took much longer—more like six hours (although it was supposed to take seven—our car accelerates very well). The road was much thinner and curvier, going over and through much more dramatic mountains. The trucks on the road went painfully slowly, but M is getting very good at driving like a Kiwi and passing whenever the vehicle in front isn’t going 110 km/h. The drive was just stunning—around the pass especially. The mountains were tall and steep, and there were huge valleys and gushing rivers. We stopped in a town called Arthur’s Pass, near the actual Arthur’s Pass on the road, where we were going to just stop and take a picture, maybe buy some fruit (which proved to be hard—we ended up with California oranges). That turned into a little walk, which in turn turned into a longer hike. That walk was the most beautiful I’ve gone on this trip. It at first crossed bridges over blue rivers in a large rocky flood plain, but soon shot up into the hills. The trail was so steep at least half of it was on well-made large wooden stairs, which was tiring was fun. We went up a couple hundred feet, then down a hundred, until we got to the base of a spectacular 100+-foot waterfall we could see from the beginning of the hike. It was supposed to take half an hour each way, which I think it did, but it felt like about five minutes. At the platform we posed for a picture we asked a pair up there to take, then took a picture for them, then they took a picture for the final pair on the platform. M sat down to peel our oranges, which were delicious—they were sweet and juicy, a perfect reward for the hike. The view was amazing—the waterfall itself was tall and white, gushing down the cliff side to a pool below, with fed a stream and a shorter waterfall right below the wooden lookout we stood on. The other direction we could see white-peaked mountains and green hills. Walking down was almost harder than walking up because it was so steep, but soon we were back in the car park.
The next couple hours of the drive were just as spectacular, at first going through brown fields encased with shattering brown peaks. The area was scattered with lakes that were so blue they looked fake—I imagined a painting with lakes that color, seeing how silly and weird they would look on a canvas in front of the tall brown mountains. Soon it suddenly turned New Zealand green again, with grassy hills. Eventually, though, we got into the Canturbury plains, which really aren’t that pretty. They’re nice for a little bit, because of the massive hedgerows and fat sheep, but get boring quickly. They’re only right around Christchurch, though, so we didn’t get too much of them.
And now, I am home. M’s computer broke, something with the battery—it only works plugged in. She found a place on it where it said battery, then had a switch that was switched to “unlock.” She locked it, so hopefully the comp will be all better now.
I should go to bed. Goodnight.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Kaikoura
Tuesday, 10 March 8:41 pm
I had the most amazing weekend. M and I drove up to Kaikoura, a town about 2.5 hours north of Christchurch on the coast. The drive there was fantastically beautiful—full of tall grassy green mountain hills lined with hedgerows and dots of sheep, with a backdrop of stunning brown peaks. Until about two hours in, we were about 10 kilometers inland from the ocean. About 20 kilometers from Kaikoura, though, the road joined with the shore and snaked along the cliff side above turquoise water that looked like the Aegean. Kaikoura was on just a setting: the town itself was on a small flat area right on the ocean nestled between an elevated peninsula and steep mountains behind it.
We checked into our hotel, which turned out to be very nice—they gave us a free upgrade to a room downstairs staring right out into the ocean, with a jacoozy bath and velvety white robes hanging in the closet. We got takeout fish and chips in town for lunch, and ate on a rocky beach. That afternoon we decided to take a walk on the peninsula that the concierge recommended to us. The walk was amazing—it went along a cliff side right over the bright blue waters, where a seal colony attracted tourists by the parking lot. We walked along the edge of cow/sheep pastures, which were very beautiful and green, although provided very little shade. Still, it was very pleasant. From the peninsula we looked inland to the towering mountains that looked like the edges of them fell into the water, and out to the less exciting but still beautiful blue horizon. After an hour each way we were tired enough to go back to our hotel.
After going back to our hotel and using their internet for about half an hour, we put on our bathing suits and went across the street to the long beach of gray pebbles that fell quickly into the rolling waves. We sunbathed for about 30 minutes, after trying to get part-way in the water and deciding it was way too cold. The pebbles were very warm, so it was very comfortable.
That evening we got dinner at a restaurant a little ways from our hotel, which was very nice. It seemed to be the only restaurant in town that had outdoor seating and an ocean view, and as a plus had very good food.On the way home we stopped at an amazing playground of the town's elementary school. That playground was the best I think I've ever been on-- It was huge, a lot of the areas made for bigger people than 1st graders (although most places were still hard to fit into). The main structure was huge, and went very high off the ground. Off one side of the second level, maybe about 15 feet off the ground, there was a log, about 10-15 feet long, set up like a tight rope. All that was below it was rocks, and it only had small, low, far-away chains on either side for handrails. The log was set up so it wasn't completely set, so when you walked on it it swayed. It was utterly terrifying. I have no idea how the school got the insurance company to okay that....
The next morning we had a booking to go on a whale watching boat. It was amazing—the people who ran it were very nice, the boat was fast, and it was pretty stable—it was a catamaran, and a very nice day, which meant there was little rocking. After we drove out about five miles while the three-person Maori crew (the company prizes itself that it is a Maori owned and operated company, which means all the boat operators they employ are Maori) gave us safety instructions and told us a little bit about sperm whales. Soon they found a whale that was on the surface, and after catching up with it they let us go outside to watch. It was so fantastic—I had never seen a sperm whale before, and although they aren’t exactly the most elegant shape, it was still quite majestic in the water. My mom absolutely adored it. We watched it breathing on the surface for about ten minutes, then the crew told us it was about to dive—I got the perfect picture just when it’s tail was at its highest point, with the humongous mountains back on land as a background.
We saw three more whales, which was more than twice the average number of whales per tour according to the crew, and I even got a video of one diving. I put in on google vids, so you can all watch it. It is very shaky, because the boat was rocking a fair amount, and the web-version is pretty low-res, but still worth the watch.
On the way back, they took us into a pod of 500+ dusky dolphins playing on the surface. That was quite fantastic—they were everywhere, jumping and playing. The sound of them all breathing was nothing like I had ever heard before—Ican’t even describe it. A few times a dolphin would jump repeatedly high into the air and flip completely over twice, landing with a flop and a slash into the water. They would do this dozens of times repeatedly, looking quite silly but very neat. I took a video of the dolphins too, which is also definitely worth watching. It may take forever to load, but worth the wait (if I do say so myself). The links to both those videos are below:
Whale: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3461753510284014755
Dolphins: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3350548330804183061
That afternoon, after getting fish and chips again from a takeout place across the street from the one we went to the day before, we went back to the hotel and again put on bathing suits. It was much earlier, more like two than five, so the sun was brighter and the pebbles hotter. The sun felt so good, and although I could tell I was getting a little burnt I didn’t want to leave it. There’s a certain wonderful feeling of soaking up buckets of sun on an exposed back—very energizing. M got a little sun stricken, so we moved into the shade for awhile. After about an hour we took a very hot, sunny, and sticky walk that wasn’t meant to be very long (we had already walked a fair amount that day), but it ended up feeling very very far on the way back. When we got back to the hotel I took I cool bath, which felt wonderful (kind of like swimming but in a very small, un-chlorinated pool). That evening we went back to the same restaurant we ate at the night before, after spending about half an hour trying to figure out where to eat and finding no better ideas. It was very comfortable and yummy yet again. We went back to the playground as well.
The next morning, sadly, we had to leave. The drive back was as beautiful as the drive there, and along the way we took a few side trips to towns on the coast. Those little trips were amazing—the roads were beautiful and fun to drive on (thin and through mountainous farmland), and the ocean still spectacular when we got back to it. We got some lunch at a super market on the main highway (crackers and dip, mostly), then drove into a side road to a town I saw market on the map. It turned out that there wasn’t actually a town there, just a few empty houses who’s inhabitants were standing a hundred feet below us by the ocean where a giant river flower into it fishing. We found a bench overlooking the whole area, and ate our water crackers, bell pepper dip, and salami in the freezing wind. It was wonderful. Eventually, though, we had to drive back home.
That weekend was so much fun. We got a fair amount of sun, too—my back did end up getting a little red, but not so much it hurt. My feet have a very distinct Chaco tan now (my shoes—they are sandals with diagonal straps, so the tan left by them is a zig-zag triangle pattern), which I always love. It was pretty warm today in Christchurch, but now is very windy and rainy—although I miss the sun and bech, I do enjoy storms.
Well, I’m going to go to bed. Or at least decide I’ve done enough for one night and don’t have to work anymore. I know I really shouldn’t be putting off this paper I have to write, that it would be easier just to get it over with it, but it’s so easy to procrastinate. Oh well, I’ll work more on it tomorrow. Tonight I have a good excuse for not working on it (the blog). Besides, I’m feeling very music-deprived, and my iPod has been charging while I’ve been writing this. It’s so hard not having my computer (it’s a hard knock life, for me, da la la la hum hmm da) with all my iTunes and constant internet.
OH did I tell you that I looked into buying the soundtrack to Hey, Hey, it’s Esther Blueburger? Well, it turns out that they only have the soundtrack in the NZ and AUS iTunes stores, not the US one, and I can’t buy music on a different account until I use up all the gift certificate money I have in my US one. Bother. I could just open a new account, but I’m worried that for some reason I wouldn’t be able to transfer the music, or burn it on to a US CD because of country codes. Bother bother.
Okay, I’m going to go listen to Missy Higgins and draw, another thing I feel very deprived of.
Hmm, maybe the Across the Universe soundtrack.
Hmm. Decisions decisions.
I had the most amazing weekend. M and I drove up to Kaikoura, a town about 2.5 hours north of Christchurch on the coast. The drive there was fantastically beautiful—full of tall grassy green mountain hills lined with hedgerows and dots of sheep, with a backdrop of stunning brown peaks. Until about two hours in, we were about 10 kilometers inland from the ocean. About 20 kilometers from Kaikoura, though, the road joined with the shore and snaked along the cliff side above turquoise water that looked like the Aegean. Kaikoura was on just a setting: the town itself was on a small flat area right on the ocean nestled between an elevated peninsula and steep mountains behind it.
We checked into our hotel, which turned out to be very nice—they gave us a free upgrade to a room downstairs staring right out into the ocean, with a jacoozy bath and velvety white robes hanging in the closet. We got takeout fish and chips in town for lunch, and ate on a rocky beach. That afternoon we decided to take a walk on the peninsula that the concierge recommended to us. The walk was amazing—it went along a cliff side right over the bright blue waters, where a seal colony attracted tourists by the parking lot. We walked along the edge of cow/sheep pastures, which were very beautiful and green, although provided very little shade. Still, it was very pleasant. From the peninsula we looked inland to the towering mountains that looked like the edges of them fell into the water, and out to the less exciting but still beautiful blue horizon. After an hour each way we were tired enough to go back to our hotel.
After going back to our hotel and using their internet for about half an hour, we put on our bathing suits and went across the street to the long beach of gray pebbles that fell quickly into the rolling waves. We sunbathed for about 30 minutes, after trying to get part-way in the water and deciding it was way too cold. The pebbles were very warm, so it was very comfortable.
That evening we got dinner at a restaurant a little ways from our hotel, which was very nice. It seemed to be the only restaurant in town that had outdoor seating and an ocean view, and as a plus had very good food.On the way home we stopped at an amazing playground of the town's elementary school. That playground was the best I think I've ever been on-- It was huge, a lot of the areas made for bigger people than 1st graders (although most places were still hard to fit into). The main structure was huge, and went very high off the ground. Off one side of the second level, maybe about 15 feet off the ground, there was a log, about 10-15 feet long, set up like a tight rope. All that was below it was rocks, and it only had small, low, far-away chains on either side for handrails. The log was set up so it wasn't completely set, so when you walked on it it swayed. It was utterly terrifying. I have no idea how the school got the insurance company to okay that....
The next morning we had a booking to go on a whale watching boat. It was amazing—the people who ran it were very nice, the boat was fast, and it was pretty stable—it was a catamaran, and a very nice day, which meant there was little rocking. After we drove out about five miles while the three-person Maori crew (the company prizes itself that it is a Maori owned and operated company, which means all the boat operators they employ are Maori) gave us safety instructions and told us a little bit about sperm whales. Soon they found a whale that was on the surface, and after catching up with it they let us go outside to watch. It was so fantastic—I had never seen a sperm whale before, and although they aren’t exactly the most elegant shape, it was still quite majestic in the water. My mom absolutely adored it. We watched it breathing on the surface for about ten minutes, then the crew told us it was about to dive—I got the perfect picture just when it’s tail was at its highest point, with the humongous mountains back on land as a background.
We saw three more whales, which was more than twice the average number of whales per tour according to the crew, and I even got a video of one diving. I put in on google vids, so you can all watch it. It is very shaky, because the boat was rocking a fair amount, and the web-version is pretty low-res, but still worth the watch.
On the way back, they took us into a pod of 500+ dusky dolphins playing on the surface. That was quite fantastic—they were everywhere, jumping and playing. The sound of them all breathing was nothing like I had ever heard before—Ican’t even describe it. A few times a dolphin would jump repeatedly high into the air and flip completely over twice, landing with a flop and a slash into the water. They would do this dozens of times repeatedly, looking quite silly but very neat. I took a video of the dolphins too, which is also definitely worth watching. It may take forever to load, but worth the wait (if I do say so myself). The links to both those videos are below:
Whale: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3461753510284014755
Dolphins: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-3350548330804183061
That afternoon, after getting fish and chips again from a takeout place across the street from the one we went to the day before, we went back to the hotel and again put on bathing suits. It was much earlier, more like two than five, so the sun was brighter and the pebbles hotter. The sun felt so good, and although I could tell I was getting a little burnt I didn’t want to leave it. There’s a certain wonderful feeling of soaking up buckets of sun on an exposed back—very energizing. M got a little sun stricken, so we moved into the shade for awhile. After about an hour we took a very hot, sunny, and sticky walk that wasn’t meant to be very long (we had already walked a fair amount that day), but it ended up feeling very very far on the way back. When we got back to the hotel I took I cool bath, which felt wonderful (kind of like swimming but in a very small, un-chlorinated pool). That evening we went back to the same restaurant we ate at the night before, after spending about half an hour trying to figure out where to eat and finding no better ideas. It was very comfortable and yummy yet again. We went back to the playground as well.
The next morning, sadly, we had to leave. The drive back was as beautiful as the drive there, and along the way we took a few side trips to towns on the coast. Those little trips were amazing—the roads were beautiful and fun to drive on (thin and through mountainous farmland), and the ocean still spectacular when we got back to it. We got some lunch at a super market on the main highway (crackers and dip, mostly), then drove into a side road to a town I saw market on the map. It turned out that there wasn’t actually a town there, just a few empty houses who’s inhabitants were standing a hundred feet below us by the ocean where a giant river flower into it fishing. We found a bench overlooking the whole area, and ate our water crackers, bell pepper dip, and salami in the freezing wind. It was wonderful. Eventually, though, we had to drive back home.
That weekend was so much fun. We got a fair amount of sun, too—my back did end up getting a little red, but not so much it hurt. My feet have a very distinct Chaco tan now (my shoes—they are sandals with diagonal straps, so the tan left by them is a zig-zag triangle pattern), which I always love. It was pretty warm today in Christchurch, but now is very windy and rainy—although I miss the sun and bech, I do enjoy storms.
Well, I’m going to go to bed. Or at least decide I’ve done enough for one night and don’t have to work anymore. I know I really shouldn’t be putting off this paper I have to write, that it would be easier just to get it over with it, but it’s so easy to procrastinate. Oh well, I’ll work more on it tomorrow. Tonight I have a good excuse for not working on it (the blog). Besides, I’m feeling very music-deprived, and my iPod has been charging while I’ve been writing this. It’s so hard not having my computer (it’s a hard knock life, for me, da la la la hum hmm da) with all my iTunes and constant internet.
OH did I tell you that I looked into buying the soundtrack to Hey, Hey, it’s Esther Blueburger? Well, it turns out that they only have the soundtrack in the NZ and AUS iTunes stores, not the US one, and I can’t buy music on a different account until I use up all the gift certificate money I have in my US one. Bother. I could just open a new account, but I’m worried that for some reason I wouldn’t be able to transfer the music, or burn it on to a US CD because of country codes. Bother bother.
Okay, I’m going to go listen to Missy Higgins and draw, another thing I feel very deprived of.
Hmm, maybe the Across the Universe soundtrack.
Hmm. Decisions decisions.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
In Class
I'm sitting in the back of a classroom in the University of Canturbury, waiting for a class my mom is teaching to start. I won't be able to type much during the class because this computer's keyboard is super loud-- and I should probably do math/spanish work. This class is three hours long, and I think meets once or twice a week.
Grandma died yesterday. My dad called while we were walking home. I feel so bad for him-- he is so sad. We were all expecting this for awhile, so it's actually not as bad as I think it could be. He's been grieving for months, which takes a little bit out how bad it is now. This may sound horrible but it's actually a relief of a burden. She was ready to die, and lived a very long time-- she also died in her home, which she was really adamant about. I miss her, I miss how much she loved anything about me: a bad school picture or a doodle on a napkin. She was my only grandparent, so I don't have any now.
But I'm really not too upset, or at least my brain is really good at suppressing it. I'm more sad for my dad and other relatives than I am for myself.
I should go now, because the class has started.
M and I are going on a trip this weekend, which I am excited for. We're going on a whale watching boat. :)
We only have two more episodes of ALIAS, which we're going to finish tonight. It's sooooo good.
Okay. Bye-bye
Grandma died yesterday. My dad called while we were walking home. I feel so bad for him-- he is so sad. We were all expecting this for awhile, so it's actually not as bad as I think it could be. He's been grieving for months, which takes a little bit out how bad it is now. This may sound horrible but it's actually a relief of a burden. She was ready to die, and lived a very long time-- she also died in her home, which she was really adamant about. I miss her, I miss how much she loved anything about me: a bad school picture or a doodle on a napkin. She was my only grandparent, so I don't have any now.
But I'm really not too upset, or at least my brain is really good at suppressing it. I'm more sad for my dad and other relatives than I am for myself.
I should go now, because the class has started.
M and I are going on a trip this weekend, which I am excited for. We're going on a whale watching boat. :)
We only have two more episodes of ALIAS, which we're going to finish tonight. It's sooooo good.
Okay. Bye-bye
Monday, March 2, 2009
Kiwis
Monday, 2 March 4:39 pm
It’s actually warm today. Windows open, jacket-off warm. I think when we first got here Christchurch was just having a cold spell. Although it’s still been cool (until today, that is), it hasn’t been bitterly freezing (that said I don’t think it ever got below 7 degrees Celsius, which is about 45 F).
D left Thursday for Florida, so now it’s just my mom and me in this big house. I miss him, but M and I are having fun. We have a routine now, which is nice. We wake up, at about 9:30 go into her office, get lunch around noon, leave around 3, go to the grocery store and get dinner (which includes standing in front of walls of vegetables being completely indecisive, getting a little snippy at each other, then buying way more than we actually need. We’re getting better on that), take a walk (sometimes we walk to the grocery store, which is only about a 20 minute walk), have dinner (now that it’s my mom and me we watch ALIAS while eating. It’s so much fun. TV and dinner are only in the same sentence at home when we’re talking about silly Americans, being that the table and the television are on opposite sides of the house, and my dad would veto it anyways. It was so amazing we found ALIAS at the video rental store (which took us about a week to find). Amazing), go to bed.
This last weekend we took day trips: Saturday we went into the city, and Sunday we went to the Banks Peninsula. They were both very fun.
We drove the three kilometers to a parking garage on the edge of downtown. We walked around, in the overcast/drizzly air, stopping at street fairs and a few more permanent attractions, such as a science museum and aquarium. At the aquarium, there were two Kiwis (don’t ask me why, I have no answer why Kiwis are suddenly classified as aquatic) that we got to see in a dark room with spider webs and tree stumps behind a glass wall (Kiwis are nocturnal, so I think the aquarium just switched their nights and days). They were neat to see—big and fat, with long sleek white beaks that picked up the light from the few dark spotlights attached to the ceiling. One of them spend a lot of time running around near us, and for awhile was sitting right in front of M’s nose. She loved the Kiwis.
We also went to the science museum, which was relatively fun besides the fact that there were swarms of loud 8-year-olds playing with every toy in the museum. There was also a sign at one of the brain teasers that said “Scientific research has found that men are better at spatial reasoning than women.” I asked my mom for a black sharpie, but unfortunately she didn’t have one with her.
The best part of the day was the art fair that happens every week in a courtyard in the old University of Canterbury buildings. It was a similar idea to Saturday Market in Eugene, but slightly more art-based, smaller, and there wasn’t a requirement that the person making the objects is the person selling. I love markets like that, though, so we spend awhile walking through the rows of booths, admiring jade jewelry and longing for the tailored sweatshirt/jackets with a price tag of $175. I was carrying a shoulder bag I made before we left Eugene that I had sewn and then painted intricately with designs. One woman with long red dread locks and a pierced nose who was sitting at a stand with burlap hats complemented me on my bag. At the same time I had been looking at her hats, noticing that she made them out of similar coffee bags that I’ve made bags for T and B out of.
The next day M and I drove on a 1.5-hour journey out to the Banks Peninsula. The last part of the main road to Akaroa, the touristy old French settlement at the end of the peninsula, is thin and snakes through the mountains. We were stuck for awhile of it behind a car going 40 kph, consistently driving in the very center of the road. It was terrifying every time a car or truck would come barreling around a bend and the car in front of us would swerve back into it’s lane.
When we finally got to Akaroa, we were surprised by how warm it was—we had thought it would be cold and rainy, as it always is out there and because of the storm we had at home the night before, but we were actually hot in our jeans. We wanted to take some hikes, and decided it would be too unbearable in jeans, so went on a search for shorts. The only ones we could find that were under $60 were beige men’s shorts that smelled like the couch at an under-staffed nursing home. They worked, though, and M and I took a lovely walk around a point by the main almost fjord-like harbor. We then drove up a road to the tops of the central mountains, to a less frequently used “tourist drive”. The drive itself was gorgeous, through majestic grass peaks speckled with sheep. The walk we wanted to take turned out to me incredibly muddy, and by the time we got to the lookout half way up we were so mudded out we decided to turn around. We did stop for about 20 minutes though to sit on the rocks on with 100-foot cliff on three sides, in wind so strong that every time we couldn’t stand up without losing our balance and almost falling off the cliffs. We sat in the wind, eating canned peanuts we had left from Fiji that we sheltered in a space between us and the backpack. The wind was cold, but not too freezing. From the lookout we could see the whole peninsula—both the harbor and the ocean on the other side that we hadn’t seen yet. It was beautiful.
The drive back was even more beautiful than the drive there, because we took the longer, windier, thinner road along the ridge of the mountain range. Eventually we got back home and had a relaxing evening.
Wow, was that just yesterday? It doesn’t feel like it was that soon.
I can’t believe there are only three weeks left of our trip—it feels like we just left. It feels like we spent just five minutes in each of the places we went to in Fiordland, and maybe an hour or two in Australia. I want to rewind and go back to the beginning. I was a little homesick a few weeks ago, and although I still miss Eugene and it’s people, part of me wants to stay here longer. I especially want to go back to Fiordland, and take a trip to Straddie and go on a hot, sweaty, buggy walk then a refreshing dip in the crashing Pacific waves.
The leaves are starting to fall here. I do love the feeling of autumn, especially being that I don’t have to go from summer break back to school again. This trip has been such the perfect arrangement of weather—I love every month weather-wise in Eugene so much except February through April, when spring starts to tempt us with flowers and hints of warmth but takes three months to actually develop into petals. I got my favorite month of December, and even got the feeling of winter with the week-long snow. Then I left, missing January (which was okay because of the snow in December), missing February, missing March, and having another summer and fall in return. Then I come back for the heart of spring which will turn into the rustling warm breezes of the beginning of summer. And then I get another summer, full of warm weather, no school, and weeks of working at imagine That.
I never want this trip to end!
It’s actually warm today. Windows open, jacket-off warm. I think when we first got here Christchurch was just having a cold spell. Although it’s still been cool (until today, that is), it hasn’t been bitterly freezing (that said I don’t think it ever got below 7 degrees Celsius, which is about 45 F).
D left Thursday for Florida, so now it’s just my mom and me in this big house. I miss him, but M and I are having fun. We have a routine now, which is nice. We wake up, at about 9:30 go into her office, get lunch around noon, leave around 3, go to the grocery store and get dinner (which includes standing in front of walls of vegetables being completely indecisive, getting a little snippy at each other, then buying way more than we actually need. We’re getting better on that), take a walk (sometimes we walk to the grocery store, which is only about a 20 minute walk), have dinner (now that it’s my mom and me we watch ALIAS while eating. It’s so much fun. TV and dinner are only in the same sentence at home when we’re talking about silly Americans, being that the table and the television are on opposite sides of the house, and my dad would veto it anyways. It was so amazing we found ALIAS at the video rental store (which took us about a week to find). Amazing), go to bed.
This last weekend we took day trips: Saturday we went into the city, and Sunday we went to the Banks Peninsula. They were both very fun.
We drove the three kilometers to a parking garage on the edge of downtown. We walked around, in the overcast/drizzly air, stopping at street fairs and a few more permanent attractions, such as a science museum and aquarium. At the aquarium, there were two Kiwis (don’t ask me why, I have no answer why Kiwis are suddenly classified as aquatic) that we got to see in a dark room with spider webs and tree stumps behind a glass wall (Kiwis are nocturnal, so I think the aquarium just switched their nights and days). They were neat to see—big and fat, with long sleek white beaks that picked up the light from the few dark spotlights attached to the ceiling. One of them spend a lot of time running around near us, and for awhile was sitting right in front of M’s nose. She loved the Kiwis.
We also went to the science museum, which was relatively fun besides the fact that there were swarms of loud 8-year-olds playing with every toy in the museum. There was also a sign at one of the brain teasers that said “Scientific research has found that men are better at spatial reasoning than women.” I asked my mom for a black sharpie, but unfortunately she didn’t have one with her.
The best part of the day was the art fair that happens every week in a courtyard in the old University of Canterbury buildings. It was a similar idea to Saturday Market in Eugene, but slightly more art-based, smaller, and there wasn’t a requirement that the person making the objects is the person selling. I love markets like that, though, so we spend awhile walking through the rows of booths, admiring jade jewelry and longing for the tailored sweatshirt/jackets with a price tag of $175. I was carrying a shoulder bag I made before we left Eugene that I had sewn and then painted intricately with designs. One woman with long red dread locks and a pierced nose who was sitting at a stand with burlap hats complemented me on my bag. At the same time I had been looking at her hats, noticing that she made them out of similar coffee bags that I’ve made bags for T and B out of.
The next day M and I drove on a 1.5-hour journey out to the Banks Peninsula. The last part of the main road to Akaroa, the touristy old French settlement at the end of the peninsula, is thin and snakes through the mountains. We were stuck for awhile of it behind a car going 40 kph, consistently driving in the very center of the road. It was terrifying every time a car or truck would come barreling around a bend and the car in front of us would swerve back into it’s lane.
When we finally got to Akaroa, we were surprised by how warm it was—we had thought it would be cold and rainy, as it always is out there and because of the storm we had at home the night before, but we were actually hot in our jeans. We wanted to take some hikes, and decided it would be too unbearable in jeans, so went on a search for shorts. The only ones we could find that were under $60 were beige men’s shorts that smelled like the couch at an under-staffed nursing home. They worked, though, and M and I took a lovely walk around a point by the main almost fjord-like harbor. We then drove up a road to the tops of the central mountains, to a less frequently used “tourist drive”. The drive itself was gorgeous, through majestic grass peaks speckled with sheep. The walk we wanted to take turned out to me incredibly muddy, and by the time we got to the lookout half way up we were so mudded out we decided to turn around. We did stop for about 20 minutes though to sit on the rocks on with 100-foot cliff on three sides, in wind so strong that every time we couldn’t stand up without losing our balance and almost falling off the cliffs. We sat in the wind, eating canned peanuts we had left from Fiji that we sheltered in a space between us and the backpack. The wind was cold, but not too freezing. From the lookout we could see the whole peninsula—both the harbor and the ocean on the other side that we hadn’t seen yet. It was beautiful.
The drive back was even more beautiful than the drive there, because we took the longer, windier, thinner road along the ridge of the mountain range. Eventually we got back home and had a relaxing evening.
Wow, was that just yesterday? It doesn’t feel like it was that soon.
I can’t believe there are only three weeks left of our trip—it feels like we just left. It feels like we spent just five minutes in each of the places we went to in Fiordland, and maybe an hour or two in Australia. I want to rewind and go back to the beginning. I was a little homesick a few weeks ago, and although I still miss Eugene and it’s people, part of me wants to stay here longer. I especially want to go back to Fiordland, and take a trip to Straddie and go on a hot, sweaty, buggy walk then a refreshing dip in the crashing Pacific waves.
The leaves are starting to fall here. I do love the feeling of autumn, especially being that I don’t have to go from summer break back to school again. This trip has been such the perfect arrangement of weather—I love every month weather-wise in Eugene so much except February through April, when spring starts to tempt us with flowers and hints of warmth but takes three months to actually develop into petals. I got my favorite month of December, and even got the feeling of winter with the week-long snow. Then I left, missing January (which was okay because of the snow in December), missing February, missing March, and having another summer and fall in return. Then I come back for the heart of spring which will turn into the rustling warm breezes of the beginning of summer. And then I get another summer, full of warm weather, no school, and weeks of working at imagine That.
I never want this trip to end!
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