Merry Christmas From Mordor!

Okay, I am not actually in Mordor, but I can see it from here. Pictured above, at great distance and thick cloud cover, are the mountains of Tongariro National Park where many of the Mordor scenes from Lord of the Rings were filmed. The three big mountains (actually active volcanoes) are Mt. Tongariro, Mt. Ruapehu, and Mt. Ngauruhoe which played the part of Mt. Doom. There is a world-renowned hiking trail through the area, which I will attempt in a few weeks. Even though it is a good distance away, it is nice to see a little snow at Christmastime.

But let me back up a bit...

The Stray Travel people screwed up and abandoned me in Gisborne for one extra night. There are far worse places in the world to be stranded, so it wasn’t a big deal. They even paid for me to get an intercity bus to Rotorua the next day. Along the way, we stopped at Huka Falls, a waterfall on the crystal clear Waikato River. It was 15 minutes of pure whitewater viewing pleasure before we headed off to Taupo.


For the first few days, there wasn’t much to see due to crappy weather. When it cleared up, the views proved to be spectacular. Taupo sits on the northern edge of Lake Taupo, which is a volcanic crater that was formed about 26,000 years ago during a massive eruption that supposedly was 100 times more powerful than Krakatoa. There was another eruption in 181 AD that caused crazy sunsets all over the world. Mt. Ruapehu last erupted in 1996, so there is a chance I can see some liquid hot magma.

I spent my first night at the Urban Retreat Backpackers. They stuck me in a tiny, windowless room right next to the big common area/TV room/bar. That kind of sucked, so I moved to the Go Global Backpackers the next day, where some cool folks I met in Raglan were staying. It is a decent enough place with cheap beds and interesting residents from all over (as seen below).


The cold, wet weather did not deter me from doing my first bungy jump! A few of us went to Taupo Bungy on my second day. If you get there before 11 AM, you get a cheap jump (NZ$79) and I always try to be thrifty with my Near Death Experience Fund. The location was gorgeous (no pun intended). The jumping platform juts out over the Waikato River from a 150-foot cliff. The technicians (or whatever you call them) adjust the bungy cable to the appropriate tautness for your weight and give you the option of being dunked in the river. It was already raining, so I went for the wet option. It is ridiculous how casually you entrust your life to the guy strapping the cable to your ankles. He did so with all the exuberance and enthusiasm of a DMV employee. He and his assistant urged me to the edge of the platform and told me to lean forward. I complied, and screamed “OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTT!” as I plummeted to the river below. I dipped to just below my waist before being snapped back up in the air for three or four more bounces. As I dangled upside down with my soaked shirt covering half my face, a raft appeared beneath me. The girls onboard extended a pole for me to grab, so that I could be lowered onto the raft and be transported back to dry land.

It wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. This was mostly due to the bored, surly attitude of the bungy technician team. They put me through the process so matter-of-factly that I didn’t have time to consider (or reconsider) my actions. I got to see a video of my jump, but I was too cheap to buy the DVD or pictures, so you’ll all just have to take my word that I actually did it.

Just around the corner from the bungy are some thermal hot springs that feed into the river. A few people from the hostel and I got some beers and hopped in the water, which was hotter than a bath. I think the cold rain actually made the experience more interesting, with steam rising up from the water. Primordial, dude!

So, I like Taupo and got myself a job. I am currently employed as a bartender at the Plateau restaurant. They hired me on the spot with almost no questions asked. Everyone in this town knows everyone, and they like to help each other out, which is cool. My hostel is having a big Christmas barbecue, so I won’t be too lonely. I figure that I will try to find a flat around here and will stay around for a month or two to save up some cash. It seems like a good place to be, and the views are gorgeous.

This will be my first Christmas away from home, which is a bit strange. It means so much to me to get all of your comments and kind words on this blog!

I wish all of you the happiest of holidays!

Hail to the Chief!

It has been a comparatively quiet couple of weeks since my last entry. I opted to spend some extra time (and money) to explore the East Cape of the North Island. This is not part of Stray’s main circuit, so we only had a small van. The passengers were only myself, a carsick German girl, and a very jolly French-speaking Swiss girl who sounded exactly like Ana Gasteyer’s impression of Celine Dion. Our driver, Dave, picked us up in Rotorua and took us Eastward. The coastline was amazing – lush forested mountains next to the ocean. There were few signs of civilization. We would pass a few houses from time to time, but no real towns. The majority of the local population is Maori, and there is very little work to be had.

One thing I have noticed in New Zealand is how well people maintain their properties, particularly in poorer areas. When you drive across rural (and not so rural) parts of America, you see house after ramshackle house with rusting cars and other assorted junk rotting away on the front lawn. Around here, the houses may be small and simple, but they are mostly clean and well kept. I don’t know if they have stricter environmental laws or just better junk removal, but it nice to see. They may be poor, but they take care of what they have.

Our first stop was the village of Hick’s Bay. Driver Dave informed me that our hosts for the next two nights would give us a traditional Maori welcome and that since I was the only guy on the bus, that I would be our group’s chief. Not only would I have to present our group’s boarding money as a gift, but I also had to speak on the group’s behalf, since women are not allowed to speak during the ceremony. I was not expecting this.


Upon our arrival at our hostel, we all had to sit on one side of the porch while Joe, the owner, greeted us in Maori and then English while all of the hostel’s other guests (all female) sat behind him in silence. He told us about the area’s history, a bit about Maori culture, and what was expected of us as guests. It was then my chiefly duty to present our boarding money and speak a bit about where I was from and why I was visiting the East Cape. I don’t recall much of what I said, but I must have done something right, because Joe later invited me into his house for tea. He asked me more about why I was in New Zealand and about America in general. He said I did not seem like “most Americans.” I’m pretty sure that was a compliment, but I didn’t press him on it. As it turns out, his daughter is now in New York studying - no bullshit - film editing! How crazy that a girl of Maori and Scottish decent from one of New Zealand’s most rural areas is now in NYC studying the same thing as a Boston boy visiting her home on the other side of the world! Anyway, it was a nice chat with Joe.

As we finished our tea, Joe informed me that as chief I was also responsible for coordinating dinner - which the women would prepare. All I really had to do was tell one girl to do the salad, another to do the pasta, and another to work the barbecue. To my great surprise, all of them did what I said while I enjoyed some wine with the other men joining us. I kept wondering how my mother and sisters (and indeed, most American women) would have reacted to this scenario. The dinner turned out great (mostly due to my coaching, I thought), and Joe insisted that the ladies have first dibs on the food since they had worked so hard. They also had to clean up afterwards while I built a campfire on the beach. To paraphrase Mel Brooks, it’s good to be the chief.


Hick’s Bay was very beautiful and quiet. There were lots of cool trees and rocks. It was a great place to do some reading and take some pictures, but it got kinda boring after 36 hours. The girls at the hostel weren’t much fun so I was eager to move along, my status as chief notwithstanding.


The next morning, we headed off to the East Cape lighthouse, the most Easterly lighthouse in the world. It sits atop a big hill next to the Pacific and looks out over the inventively named East Island. We had terrific weather, so the view from the top was great. We then headed south along the coastal road. The landscape bore an amazing resemblance to parts of California. I could have sworn we were diving through Santa Barbara, Napa, or Marin County - rolling golden hills, vineyards, and patches of redwood trees filling up the little valleys. The ocean was a beautiful emerald green.


Our next stop was Tatapouri Beach, just north of Gisborne. The hostel we stayed at doubles as a headquarters for a scuba diving outfit. One of the guys working there took a bunch of us walking out to of the reef just offshore where we got to watch him feed stingrays. They were huge! About 3 feet in diameter. They were swimming all around our feet, and the guy told us to stand still, lest we disturb them and meet a Crocodile Hunter-esque fate.

The next day, I hopped off the bus in Gisborne to check out the area. The city’s two claims to fame are its geographical location (the first city in the world to see the sun) and its place in history (Captain Cook’s first landfall in New Zealand). Nowadays, it is mostly known for its surfing and Chardonnay.

The first couple of days were unseasonably cold, wet and windy. After spending two restless rainy days in the hostel, I went for a walk on the beach with a girl from England, a guy from Germany, and another guy from Canada. To our surprise, a photographer from the local paper hopped of the dunes and asked to take our picture as we ran giddily down the beach. The next afternoon, we found our picture on the front page of the Gisborne Herald at the local corner store. The ladies at the store actually asked us to autograph the paper!

Yes, Mum. I will send a copy home.


The weather cleared up on Monday, so I spent the last couple of days surfing. I heard on the news that a little boy was attacked by a shark on the very beach where I learned to surf in Raglan. Maybe it wasn’t so bad leaving there after all (I still wanna go back, though!). There are a few cool people at my current hostel and the town is halfway decent, but I am getting antsy to move on. Stray can’t pick me up until Friday, so I will spend the next couple days living cheaply and (hopefully) surfing. The next big stop will be Taupo, which lies on the shores of the New Zealand’s biggest lake (really a gigantic volcanic crater). I have heard that it is beautiful there, with lots of goofy adventure activities and mountain views. In all likelihood, I’ll have to get a job around there and stick around for a while.

I have no clue where I will be or what I will be doing for Christmas or New Years. A lot of backpackers seem to be headed for the big cities (Auckland, Wellington, and Christchurch), but it is reportedly very difficult to find accommodation. I’m making all of this up as I go along anyway, so I’ll figure something out.

Surfin' Safari

I have done enough crazy shit in the last two weeks to fill five blog entries, but since this is MY blog where I make the rules, you’ll just have to read one big fat entry and deal with it.
After leaving the Bay of Islands, I had one day back in Auckland for shopping and tying up loose ends before I took off on Stray’s New Zealand circuit. Warmer clothes needed to be purchased and excess baggage stored at the International Exchange Programme’s office. I was then off to the town of Hahei on the Coromandel Peninsula. The ride was spectacular, with crazy mountains covered with green, gnarly trees. I kept waiting for Juan Valdez to emerge from the forest with his trusty donkey in tow bearing coffee beans.
Upon arriving in the village of Hahei, most of our group went kayaking to the stunning Cathedral Cove. It was the most perfect little beach I have ever seen – soft white sand, walls of volcanic rock, wild trees clinging to the cliffs, crystal clear water, surreal rock formations and islands out in the bay, and a huge cavern than leads from one beach to another. Absolutely gorgeous.That night we had a Thanksgiving barbecue. I was one of only two Americans in the group, so I took it upon myself to tell the group about the Pilgrims and Wampanoags. Everyone seemed genuinely interested. I am guessing that there were about 25 of us sitting at picnic tables eating beef and sausage instead of turkey. Ironically, it was probably the closest thing I have ever experienced to the actual Thanksgiving – halfway across the world with people from at least five different countries. That night, I snuck down to the beach and saw more stars than I have ever seen with the naked eye. The next day, we took off for the west coast surfing town of Raglan. The landscape was straight out of “The Goonies” – rocky cliffs, dark sand and a raging ocean. Supposedly, Raglan has the longest left hand break in the world, and was featured in “The Endless Summer.” We stayed at the Karioi Lodge, by far the coolest hostel I have been to. It is a tiny set of buildings up in the rain forest, a good 15-minute drive out of town with a view of the Tasman Sea. They have hiking trails up through the forest, a ropes course, a flying fox (more on that later), a supercool lounge area, a sauna, and the offices of the surfing school.

About surfing…

SURFING. IS. AWESOME!!!!
I FUCKING LOVE IT! I should have done it a long time ago. Actually, I did try it once on Cape Cod five years ago and failed miserably. No more. Thanks to the good people at the Raglan Surfing School, I am now a Surfer Dude. I stood up and rode many a wave all the way back to shore. When I think of all the lame weekends I spent sitting on my ass in Southern California when I could have been surfing! Grrrrrr! At least I know now. I spent three extra days surfing in Raglan and did not want to leave. I asked the hostel if they needed any help, but they were all staffed up. Damn it! I am sure I’ll make it back up there, eventually.

So… back to the flying fox. A flying fox (or zipper line) is basically a very long cable suspended from one tree to another at a steep angle. From this cable hangs a little seat that goofy people like myself can sit or stand on to ride very fast through the trees. It is a lot of fun. Pretty much everyone at the lodge did it a few times, especially at night when you couldn’t see where you were going. It was rumored that some people have been known to do this whilst butt naked. No one was actually doing it, though, so I volunteered to strip down and swing through the trees like the naked Tarzan I always new myself to be, hoping to inspire others to do the same. About 15 people watched me drag my bare ass up the hill and ride the thing to the bottom au natural. A nice girl from England even snapped a photo, but it didn’t come out very well. Everyone got a big kick out of my little stunt, but no one elected to do the same. I mean, c’mon people! I exposed myself in the name of group camaraderie, and no one followed! It was pitch black and you could barely see anything anyway! Pussies.

Since then, I have earned a reputation as The Naked Flying Fox Guy. I have bumped into several people since then who recognize me from the incident, even if I don’t remember them. Just this morning, there was a very cute Dutch girl making breakfast at my current hostel who recognized me. Sure enough, she was one of the spectators that night.
Since I couldn’t stay in Raglan any longer, I headed off to Rotorua. Here in Rotorua, there are lots of geothermal pools, bubbling mud, and geyser-type thingies. The air smells funny. There are tons of activities around here – white water rafting, luging, Maori cultural shows, and Zorbing. Zorbing is hilarious. A zorb is a large plastic ball with a hollow center than can fit up to three people. “Zorbonauts” take a short ride up a hill, climb into the zorb, and roll down a grassy slope. Basically, you pay $35 to be put through a washing machine’s spin cycle for about 45 seconds. It is one of the goofiest things I have ever done, and was totally worth the money. Here’s a picture of me post-zorbing with Swedish Marcus from my Stray group. Rafting was fun, too, but the trip was only an hour or so long. There was a 7-meter waterfall and lots of “Jurassic Park”-style greenery. Still, it was not as cool as the New River in West Virginia. One thing this trip has inspired me to do is to explore more of America when I return.

All in all, New Zealand has been awesome thus far. I only have two big complaints.

#1 – Virtually all coffee here is made from espresso. Granted, this makes it taste better than your typical American coffee, but you cannot just go into a café and order a regular cup ‘o Joe. Black coffee is called either a “Short Black” or a “Long Black,” depending on how much water they use. If you want milk or cream, you must order a “Flat White,” which is actually more like a latte or cappuccino. All I want is a regular coffee with cream and ½ a sugar, people! Is that so hard?
#2 – The faucets here totally suck, at least in the hostels. 90% of the sinks I have encountered have old-timey separate spigots for hot and cold water, forcing me to mix water in the basin to my desired temperature. This makes the rinsing of contact lenses a challenge, along with shaving and the washing of hands, face and feet. I know some of you are going to knock me for washing my feet in the sink. Trust me when I tell you that it must be done. When you spend 75% of your time in Teva sandals and no socks, your feet can get downright nasty, and I don’t want to alienate my fellow travelers with stinkiness. If it is only your feet that are dirty, taking a shower is just wasteful. Sink washing is clearly the best option. It just sucks that I have to plug up the sink, fill it with hot & cold water, add soap, contort myself so that I can stand on one foot while washing the other, switch those around, drain the sink, fill it with clear water, rinse, dry, and then drain the sink yet again to wash my hands and begin the process all over again.

Anyway, I must soon decide whether I should head south to Taupo (big mountains by a huge lake, bungee jumping, skydiving) & Tongariro National Park (crazy volcanic landscape where they filmed the Mordor scenes in “Lord of the Rings”), or pay an extra fee to explore the East Cape (gorgeous coastline featured in “Whale Rider” and more surfing!) for a few days. Such difficult decisions. Woe to me…

I keep forgetting that I will be here for an entire year and that there is really no need to rush. A great but tough thing is when you meet terrific people on your bus who are on a different timetable. They are your best friends for a day or two, and then they get bussed away, often never to be seen again. Sometimes you bump into them down the road, but by then you’ve made all new friends and lines get blurred. With all the language barriers, cultural differences, close living quarters, partying, rapid-fire friendships and romances, I am amazed how well everyone gets along. I haven’t seen a single serious argument or even the most minor of scuffles. Everyone just wants to have a good time (knock on wood).

Oh yeah… I gonna hafta get… ya know… a job… soon. I will definitely need to work for a while before I head off to the South Island. I have heard that things are more expensive down there, but are even more spectacular. We shall see…