G’day, g’day! I’m sitting in a little café in Mount Cook Village, and I’m being charged $1.50 for an hour of having my laptop plugged into their power source, so I will be concise today! What a crock, though! I’m not even using internet yet.
The trip is off to a super bien start. Super bien!
We left Akaroa around 11:30 AM on Thursday – pretty good, all things considered. We said all of our goodbyes, except to Steve, who was having a nap. Oh, well. I guess that’s an appropriate way to have left things with him, eh?
We headed into Christchurch and spent several hours prowling around the glorious Pac N’ Save, a Sam’s Wholesale type establishment, full of bargains. Of course, our food options are limited now that we are living out of our car. Everything we buy must be non perishable, and we’ve already learned one lesson about what happens to an innocent bar of Cadbury’s dark chocolate when trapped in a hot car on a sweltering day. RIP Chocolate Bar.
We drove ourselves about 1.5 hours southwest of Christchurch to a little spot on the Rakaia River, a gorgeous, huge river that’s supposedly full of salmon this time of year. We had a really nice (and FREE) camping spot all to ourselves pretty close to the river. Bjorn didn’t catch any fishies, unfortunately, and more unfortunately, he lost his flip flops in the river in some very quick sand. RIP flip flops.
The next morning we were off to an early start (it’s very easy to get on a sunset/sunrise bedtime schedule when you’re sleeping in a tent!), making our way the short distance to Mount Somers. We were planning to do a short, two-day trek at Mount Somers, spending one night on the trail. However, we woke that morning to very questionable weather, and upon looking at the weather forecast, it looked like bad weather was heading our way, especially for the following day. After a bit of deliberation, we decided to just do a nice day hike at Mount Somers, and if we got rained on, so be it – at least we wouldn’t have to sleep in the rain!
The day turned out to be decently nice, luckily, and the walk was great. We had to go through some crazy forests, though, that were FULL of wasps! The wasps were swarming everywhere, feeding off of the black bark of some trees. It was wild! Like something out of a horror film, Bjorn said. Luckily, neither of us were too, too afraid of wasps, and we managed to get through calmly and without getting stung.
The walk was about 2 hours up and three back down, and we rewarded ourselves with a little bath in the Woolshed Creek, which was right at the start/finish line. I don’t know what it is about bathing in a natural water source. It’s charming, though, especially on a hot day.
The car park for this particular trek was quiet and nice, right next to the creek, and there weren’t any signs that said NO CAMPING, so we decided we’d just throw the tent up there for the night. Two nights of free camping in a row! What luck!
The next morning (yesterday morning), we were off down the road to Mount Cook, about a 3.5 hour drive. We weren’t in any hurry, though, so we had some nice stops along the way, puttering around the Saturday morning Farmer’s Market in Geraldine (and buying some yummy, fresh, strawberries and blueberries – guess who had blueberry oatmeal this morning?), and having a relaxing lunch, looking out at the turquoise waters of Lake Pukaki, with Mount Cook looming under clouds in the distance.
We arrived in Mount Cook around 2 PM yesterday and were both taken with the area immediately. Mount Cook is about 3,700 meters and is truly majestic, dominating over the surrounding mountains. There are awesome blue glaciers running down the mountains – unapproachable and mesmerizing at the same time.
The “village” here consists of a few hotels and a visitor’s center; there are no supermarkets or anything like that. Our first stop was at the visitor’s center, where we bought a map of the walks in the area, and took in a little history about the various attempts to climb Cook over the years. We decided to go ahead and find the campground and get situated and do a short trek later in the afternoon. The White Horse Hill Campground is $6 per night per person, but there is something comforting about sleeping in the company of other campers (and feeling certain you’re not doing anything illegal).
We took a short, late afternoon walk out to Kea Point, where we had a great view of the top of Mount Cook and sat there for a while, just taking it all in. After our walk, we were very excited to make use of the pay shower at the public shelter in town. $1 gets you five minutes of water cleaning heaven, and we hadn’t showered since Wednesday night (and it was Saturday night). The shower was utterly disappointing. The water must have been filtered down straight from the glacier – it honestly felt like it was about that cold. I couldn’t stand directly under the shower (even though I was ferociously hot from being outside) and had to wash everything separately, barely popping one particular body part into the water at a time. After it was all over, though, I did feel MUCH better. Clean and refreshed.
We will probably stay here at Mount Cook til Tuesday. We checked the forecast yesterday, which predicted morning showers today, clearing in the afternoon, and nice weather tomorrow. As predicted, we woke to pouring rain this morning, though I must say, Bjorn’s tent is AWESOME in terms of waterproof-ness. We stayed completely dry. If the forecast continues to be right, we’ll do a 4 hour hike out to Hooker Valley this afternoon, and then tomorrow, we’re off on a two-day trek up to Mueller Hut and back.
I am having so much fun. Living out of the car is quite an experience and an exercise in organization! We don’t even have that much stuff, but it doesn’t take much to clutter up a station wagon. We’ve got little boxes for particular things – one for food, one for spices, one for cooking materials, one for clothes – but still, it seems IMPOSSIBLE to find that one little thing you’re looking for. Bjorn must have spent 10 minutes yesterday trying to find a clean pair of socks. We’ll get there, eventually. Every little thing needs to have its place, so when we need it, we can find it! Easier said than done, I know, especially for two people who are, well, slightly prone to make messes.
Okay, must go now! I spewed all that out in 37 minutes! Not too shabby! And now I have to go spend another $2 to get 15 minutes of internet time so I can post this. The things I do for this blog, Suzanne.
Love to you all. Will be back in a few days to report on the Mueller Hut adventure!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Alright, Already
It's 8:30 AM on Thursday morning here, and I've gotten up early to write this blog because it's been nagging at me so viciously for the last few days. It took me about a day to blow my new year's resolutions, but I am re-resolving today. I've officially got a clean slate.
Okay, okay! It's go day! Today is the day I've been itching for for the last two months. That's because today is the day we start TRAVELING! The adventure begins. (I know our adventure technically began four months ago, but once we got jobs and got situated here, things stopped feeling so...adventurous.)
I had my last day of work at Vangioni's on Sunday, and I definitely went out with a bang. I worked 14 hours that day - 8 AM to 3 PM and 5 PM to 11:45 PM. Yikes! But I hope I finally forced Steve into seeing just how very valuable I was - all of his poor staff had bailed on him this week for one reason or another, (familiar story, eh?)so I figured, heck, it's my last week. Ought to just have a big push before I go and do nothing but work!
I don't know why it's so important to me to leave jobs on positive notes. I guess it makes me terribly depressed to think of all the hours I've poured into something (even something that isn't meaningful or important to me) and think that those hours, my time, has not been appreciated. I've decided that's something I need at a job - a sense that my work is appreciated and valued. (And perhaps that is why I ran screaming from teaching. Those children did not praise me nearly enough.)
Anyway, the weeks of work following my Christmas vacation, Steve was unable to forgive me; my previous good standing with him was over. From the time that I told him I was taking those days off on, I suddenly could do NOTHING right in the restaurant. I was polishing cutlery when I should have been standing outside idly watching my tables. I was messing the till up (I wasn't). My mopping skills were inadequate. I feel like he went out of his way to punish me for taking that time, and though it made me angry as hell, it's over now. I'm still glad I took that time with my family. And Steve is a nice person at heart, I have to believe.
Monday night we had a large dinner party at Vangioni's with a few of my favorite Akaroa folks. Many of the attendees were fellow restaurant staff who had the night off, so it was such fun to get dressed up, take up a huge VIP table out in the garden, and act like real customers for a change! Have people wait on us! And eat filet mingon! Medium rare!
Bjorn had his last day of work on Tuesday, and his sweet employers, Ian and Deb, graciously invited us out to dinner with them that night, so it was, yet again, eating and drinking and eating and drinking.
The original plan had been for us to take off yesterday, but with all the going away partying, there was little time to pack. Yesterday morning after breakfast, we sat deliberating - to leave today or tomorrow? We had finally agreed that we ought to just leave as soon as we had our stuff together. (It would only take us a couple hours to get ready, we thought. HA!) But as soon as we actually started packing, I got really upset and emotional and said I needed one more day. I hate leaving anywhere when I feel rushed and disorganized.
And so we spent the entire day yesterday preparing ourselves for our trip. My motel cleaning employer, Bernadine, had given us some extra curtain fabric she had laying around to make curtains for Betty! When we finally got out to actually hang them, we realized we didn't have quite enough fabric. So we went down to Akaroa's Op Shop (opportunity shop, aka, thrift store) and picked out some old sheets to finish off the job. We then spent an hour sitting in Betty, needles and thread in hand, sewing our "curtains" onto little rings to hang onto the hooks that are already in the car.
Why curtains for Betty? Well, we are budget travelers, you know. And the hostels here are not nearly as affordable as they were in South America. So we are limiting ourselves to two or three hostel stays a week, which means, those other four or five nights will be spent in our sleeping bags! We will probably do most of those nights in our tent, but if we get into some strange territory, or if the weather is bad, we will have Betty as a backup. And we don't want people peering into Betty while we sleep!
Our plan, though, is to do a ton of "tramping" (what we call trekking or backpacking), so we'll probably be away from the car entirely for days at a time. In fact, we are going to kick off our journey with a two day tramp at Mount Somers, which is just an hour or so southeast of Christchurch. We are not going there directly today, though. After a leisurely breakfast, after packing the car and driving around Akaroa giving hugs to everyone we know, we will head to Christchurch to do a little shopping in preparation for our trip. We need groceries, for starters. And I need some better rain gear. And we need some hats to make us look and feel cool tramping around NZ. And we need a little notebook to start a daily log so we can remember every little thing we've done. This is going to be such fun!!!! Then we will drive to the Rakaia River, where Bjorn wants to do a day of salmon fishing. I cannot salmon fish, unfortunately, as I do not have the freshwater fishing license I need (saltwater is free), but I've created a few projects for myself (knitting, learning Swedisdh!) to work on while he fishes.
Despite feeling negative about work for the last month or so, I am feeling incredibly sentimental about leaving Akaroa. This has been a home for us - a wonderful home for us. And, despite my job, it really has been a perfect place for us to prepare for this next part of our trip. We have been able to save up quite a bit of money in our time here. Even though we've been getting paid very little, we have put in a few hours, and there is very little to spend money on here in Akaroa. So we have just poured everything into a little savings account, and amazingly, we have managed to DOUBLE the savings goal we set for ourselves three and a half months ago. Gooooo team!
The Banks Peninsula is breath taking. It's gorgeous and unique and its personality changes every day with the weather. I have loved exploring every corner of the peninsula, going for treks, taking photos, talking to the sheep, lazing on the beaches. I will miss my daily walk on the Woodills track, taking me through green sheep pastures and through forests, under cover of the funny kanuka trees. I will miss watching the ducks and the geese and the shags and the gulls and all the other flutting things belonging to Akaroa. I will miss Bjorn's lunch spot, sitting on the bench, watching the boats come in and out of the harbor. I will miss sitting on the front porch of our house, sharing stories about our day's work and enjoying the sunset. I will even miss my noisy roommates, who woke me up with their partying on a number of occasions.
Why is it that as soon as you leave a place, you fall in love with it? I suppose I have loved Akaroa from the beginning, but took it for granted a bit after it became comfortable, after I started being miserable at work. I've told Bjorn a few times this week that I don't want to leave, and he says, So you want to stay and work for another month at the restaurant? Ummmm, NO! I want to leave, I want to leave! But all in all, this has been a good place for us. I will remember it fondly.
Soooo, my dears! With any luck, we will be driving Betty out of here for the last time in a few hours. I'll send notes from the road soon! My gooooodness. I cannot wait!!!! Love to you all.
Okay, okay! It's go day! Today is the day I've been itching for for the last two months. That's because today is the day we start TRAVELING! The adventure begins. (I know our adventure technically began four months ago, but once we got jobs and got situated here, things stopped feeling so...adventurous.)
I had my last day of work at Vangioni's on Sunday, and I definitely went out with a bang. I worked 14 hours that day - 8 AM to 3 PM and 5 PM to 11:45 PM. Yikes! But I hope I finally forced Steve into seeing just how very valuable I was - all of his poor staff had bailed on him this week for one reason or another, (familiar story, eh?)so I figured, heck, it's my last week. Ought to just have a big push before I go and do nothing but work!
I don't know why it's so important to me to leave jobs on positive notes. I guess it makes me terribly depressed to think of all the hours I've poured into something (even something that isn't meaningful or important to me) and think that those hours, my time, has not been appreciated. I've decided that's something I need at a job - a sense that my work is appreciated and valued. (And perhaps that is why I ran screaming from teaching. Those children did not praise me nearly enough.)
Anyway, the weeks of work following my Christmas vacation, Steve was unable to forgive me; my previous good standing with him was over. From the time that I told him I was taking those days off on, I suddenly could do NOTHING right in the restaurant. I was polishing cutlery when I should have been standing outside idly watching my tables. I was messing the till up (I wasn't). My mopping skills were inadequate. I feel like he went out of his way to punish me for taking that time, and though it made me angry as hell, it's over now. I'm still glad I took that time with my family. And Steve is a nice person at heart, I have to believe.
Monday night we had a large dinner party at Vangioni's with a few of my favorite Akaroa folks. Many of the attendees were fellow restaurant staff who had the night off, so it was such fun to get dressed up, take up a huge VIP table out in the garden, and act like real customers for a change! Have people wait on us! And eat filet mingon! Medium rare!
Bjorn had his last day of work on Tuesday, and his sweet employers, Ian and Deb, graciously invited us out to dinner with them that night, so it was, yet again, eating and drinking and eating and drinking.
The original plan had been for us to take off yesterday, but with all the going away partying, there was little time to pack. Yesterday morning after breakfast, we sat deliberating - to leave today or tomorrow? We had finally agreed that we ought to just leave as soon as we had our stuff together. (It would only take us a couple hours to get ready, we thought. HA!) But as soon as we actually started packing, I got really upset and emotional and said I needed one more day. I hate leaving anywhere when I feel rushed and disorganized.
And so we spent the entire day yesterday preparing ourselves for our trip. My motel cleaning employer, Bernadine, had given us some extra curtain fabric she had laying around to make curtains for Betty! When we finally got out to actually hang them, we realized we didn't have quite enough fabric. So we went down to Akaroa's Op Shop (opportunity shop, aka, thrift store) and picked out some old sheets to finish off the job. We then spent an hour sitting in Betty, needles and thread in hand, sewing our "curtains" onto little rings to hang onto the hooks that are already in the car.
Why curtains for Betty? Well, we are budget travelers, you know. And the hostels here are not nearly as affordable as they were in South America. So we are limiting ourselves to two or three hostel stays a week, which means, those other four or five nights will be spent in our sleeping bags! We will probably do most of those nights in our tent, but if we get into some strange territory, or if the weather is bad, we will have Betty as a backup. And we don't want people peering into Betty while we sleep!
Our plan, though, is to do a ton of "tramping" (what we call trekking or backpacking), so we'll probably be away from the car entirely for days at a time. In fact, we are going to kick off our journey with a two day tramp at Mount Somers, which is just an hour or so southeast of Christchurch. We are not going there directly today, though. After a leisurely breakfast, after packing the car and driving around Akaroa giving hugs to everyone we know, we will head to Christchurch to do a little shopping in preparation for our trip. We need groceries, for starters. And I need some better rain gear. And we need some hats to make us look and feel cool tramping around NZ. And we need a little notebook to start a daily log so we can remember every little thing we've done. This is going to be such fun!!!! Then we will drive to the Rakaia River, where Bjorn wants to do a day of salmon fishing. I cannot salmon fish, unfortunately, as I do not have the freshwater fishing license I need (saltwater is free), but I've created a few projects for myself (knitting, learning Swedisdh!) to work on while he fishes.
Despite feeling negative about work for the last month or so, I am feeling incredibly sentimental about leaving Akaroa. This has been a home for us - a wonderful home for us. And, despite my job, it really has been a perfect place for us to prepare for this next part of our trip. We have been able to save up quite a bit of money in our time here. Even though we've been getting paid very little, we have put in a few hours, and there is very little to spend money on here in Akaroa. So we have just poured everything into a little savings account, and amazingly, we have managed to DOUBLE the savings goal we set for ourselves three and a half months ago. Gooooo team!
The Banks Peninsula is breath taking. It's gorgeous and unique and its personality changes every day with the weather. I have loved exploring every corner of the peninsula, going for treks, taking photos, talking to the sheep, lazing on the beaches. I will miss my daily walk on the Woodills track, taking me through green sheep pastures and through forests, under cover of the funny kanuka trees. I will miss watching the ducks and the geese and the shags and the gulls and all the other flutting things belonging to Akaroa. I will miss Bjorn's lunch spot, sitting on the bench, watching the boats come in and out of the harbor. I will miss sitting on the front porch of our house, sharing stories about our day's work and enjoying the sunset. I will even miss my noisy roommates, who woke me up with their partying on a number of occasions.
Why is it that as soon as you leave a place, you fall in love with it? I suppose I have loved Akaroa from the beginning, but took it for granted a bit after it became comfortable, after I started being miserable at work. I've told Bjorn a few times this week that I don't want to leave, and he says, So you want to stay and work for another month at the restaurant? Ummmm, NO! I want to leave, I want to leave! But all in all, this has been a good place for us. I will remember it fondly.
Soooo, my dears! With any luck, we will be driving Betty out of here for the last time in a few hours. I'll send notes from the road soon! My gooooodness. I cannot wait!!!! Love to you all.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Barracuda
We both had the day off today, and Bjorn had the bright idea to spend our morning fishing. A regular customer down at the supply store, Evan, owns a fishing charter company, and had offered to give us a discount because we’re “locals”. He takes people out in his boats, supplies them with rods and bait and know-how, and gives them a couple hours to try their luck with the fishies out in the Pacific.
When Bjorn approached me with the idea of spending our morning fishing, I was not impressed, to say the least. But the idea did need to be considered for his sake.
Bjorn is a fisherman. In Sweden, he lives just next to a huge lake, and he often takes a boat out onto it in his free time, whiling away afternoons patiently waiting for the fish to bite. He therefore brought all of his fishing gear to New Zealand, with the intention of doing as much fishing as possible.
Though he has tried to fish all over the Banks Peninsula, it’s really just impossible to catch anything unless you’re actually out in the middle of the water. Fishing from the shore just won’t do. So it made sense that he would be eager to try his luck with the fishing charter boat, and I decided that I could tag along. If nothing else it would be a nice ride on a boat!
We boarded the small fishing boat around 9:30 AM this morning with an older couple from England and headed out to the “heads” of the harbor – the area just beyond where the bay spills out into the ocean. We were given a quick demo on how to cast the line out, and that was about it. I suppose they assume that anyone who hires a fishing charter would have at least a basic knowledge of the sport.
Well, the first time I’ve ever fished was about two months ago. In a small river. With Bjorn. And I didn’t even come close to catching anything. Just threw the line out a few times for fun. So, needless to say, I had no idea what I was doing.
Um, how am I supposed to know if something bites? I kept asking Bjorn. What does it feel like?
You’ll just know, he replied, over and over again.
I’ll just know, I thought. Right. And so I sat. And sat. And sat. Feeling very little other than the ocean currents gently pulling on the end of my line.
Bjorn immediately caught a gorgeous blue cod, though he was obligated to throw it back in because it was too small. The guide, as well as one of our British companions, also started catching things (though again, nothing they could keep).
Ugh! I thought. I have to catch a fish. This stinks.
I suck at this, I said over and over to Bjorn. What am I supposed to be doing? I don’t get it!
Bjorn was right, though. When I did finally get a bite, I knew it. There was no doubt of what was happening. I felt a strong jerk on the end of my life, firmly pulling the rod out of my hands. Oooh ooh ooh!!! And I started to reel it in, whatever it was.
Well, as I began to pull the line in, I realized that whatever was on the end of it was strong. Perhaps stronger than me. I felt like I was fighting with everything in me to keep the rod in my hands as the fish struggled and swam to get away.
I started shrieking – probably ridiculously and loudly – and Bjorn and the guide both huddled around me, motivating me to DON’T LET GO OF THE ROD! and to KEEP REELING!
The line suddenly tugged forward, and I could finally see what I had, swimming out in front of the boat, fighting to free itself. OH MY GOD! It was HUGE.
BARRACUDA! the guide yelled.
What does that mean? I thought. Does that mean don’t keep reeling? Are barracudas bad? Will it try to kill us all?
I finally got the fish right up to the edge of the boat, but it was wildly thrashing about, and I was still LOST as to what I was supposed to be doing. Also, that fish looked mean. And unhappy with me. The guide stepped in to take the rod, and asked the British fellow to please grab him that “wee wooden club over there”. He needed to give that barracuda a wee head clubbing before bringing him aboard.
And just like that, with a little “thwack”, the barracuda was finally defeated, hanging limply on the line. I could barely breathe! I think I’m going to have a heart attack, I said. Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god.
At everyone’s urging, a photo was taken with me holding the fish on the line, but I have to say, although it was something of a glorious moment for me, I was mortified! I was so scared to hold that thing. It was awful. I was just certain that fish was going to spring back to life, open his big, nasty mouth, and just swallow me whole. EW!
Of course, after I had become the champion, barracuda-slaying, master fisherwoman, I became quite interested in fishing. And quite determined that I could catch something else. I passed the last hour on the boat confidently reeling my line up, certain there was something wonderful on the end, only to find a big nothing.
But that’s okay with me because I was the big winner of the day! Everyone else had to throw their fishies back in the water, but the guide wanted to keep mine because he said it would make great bait (apparently NOT good eating, though).
When we finally returned to the dock, I had to have yet another celebratory photo, this one of me actually holding the nasty thing in my hands. Check out the photos (http://picasaweb.google.com/ellen.bucy) – I tried to look like a champion, but truthfully, I was still quite squeamish and terrified of this thing I had caught!
So it was a glorious day. And Bjorn was not the slightest bit upset that I had had the big catch. In fact, I think he was rather pleased, sharing in my big day and knowing my interest in fishing had been piqued.
Yesterday, when discussing the prospect of this fishing adventure, I told Bjorn there was no way I’d be able to ever keep anything I caught, let alone eat it, but I have to admit that the sport of it all got the best of me today. I was ready to FISH! It was good, good fun, and I’m excited to go again sometime! I’m sure, knowing Bjorn, I won’t have to wait too long.
I’ll be dreaming of barracudas tonight. Hope you’re dreaming of…something else. Much love.
When Bjorn approached me with the idea of spending our morning fishing, I was not impressed, to say the least. But the idea did need to be considered for his sake.
Bjorn is a fisherman. In Sweden, he lives just next to a huge lake, and he often takes a boat out onto it in his free time, whiling away afternoons patiently waiting for the fish to bite. He therefore brought all of his fishing gear to New Zealand, with the intention of doing as much fishing as possible.
Though he has tried to fish all over the Banks Peninsula, it’s really just impossible to catch anything unless you’re actually out in the middle of the water. Fishing from the shore just won’t do. So it made sense that he would be eager to try his luck with the fishing charter boat, and I decided that I could tag along. If nothing else it would be a nice ride on a boat!
We boarded the small fishing boat around 9:30 AM this morning with an older couple from England and headed out to the “heads” of the harbor – the area just beyond where the bay spills out into the ocean. We were given a quick demo on how to cast the line out, and that was about it. I suppose they assume that anyone who hires a fishing charter would have at least a basic knowledge of the sport.
Well, the first time I’ve ever fished was about two months ago. In a small river. With Bjorn. And I didn’t even come close to catching anything. Just threw the line out a few times for fun. So, needless to say, I had no idea what I was doing.
Um, how am I supposed to know if something bites? I kept asking Bjorn. What does it feel like?
You’ll just know, he replied, over and over again.
I’ll just know, I thought. Right. And so I sat. And sat. And sat. Feeling very little other than the ocean currents gently pulling on the end of my line.
Bjorn immediately caught a gorgeous blue cod, though he was obligated to throw it back in because it was too small. The guide, as well as one of our British companions, also started catching things (though again, nothing they could keep).
Ugh! I thought. I have to catch a fish. This stinks.
I suck at this, I said over and over to Bjorn. What am I supposed to be doing? I don’t get it!
Bjorn was right, though. When I did finally get a bite, I knew it. There was no doubt of what was happening. I felt a strong jerk on the end of my life, firmly pulling the rod out of my hands. Oooh ooh ooh!!! And I started to reel it in, whatever it was.
Well, as I began to pull the line in, I realized that whatever was on the end of it was strong. Perhaps stronger than me. I felt like I was fighting with everything in me to keep the rod in my hands as the fish struggled and swam to get away.
I started shrieking – probably ridiculously and loudly – and Bjorn and the guide both huddled around me, motivating me to DON’T LET GO OF THE ROD! and to KEEP REELING!
The line suddenly tugged forward, and I could finally see what I had, swimming out in front of the boat, fighting to free itself. OH MY GOD! It was HUGE.
BARRACUDA! the guide yelled.
What does that mean? I thought. Does that mean don’t keep reeling? Are barracudas bad? Will it try to kill us all?
I finally got the fish right up to the edge of the boat, but it was wildly thrashing about, and I was still LOST as to what I was supposed to be doing. Also, that fish looked mean. And unhappy with me. The guide stepped in to take the rod, and asked the British fellow to please grab him that “wee wooden club over there”. He needed to give that barracuda a wee head clubbing before bringing him aboard.
And just like that, with a little “thwack”, the barracuda was finally defeated, hanging limply on the line. I could barely breathe! I think I’m going to have a heart attack, I said. Oh my god, Oh my god, Oh my god.
At everyone’s urging, a photo was taken with me holding the fish on the line, but I have to say, although it was something of a glorious moment for me, I was mortified! I was so scared to hold that thing. It was awful. I was just certain that fish was going to spring back to life, open his big, nasty mouth, and just swallow me whole. EW!
Of course, after I had become the champion, barracuda-slaying, master fisherwoman, I became quite interested in fishing. And quite determined that I could catch something else. I passed the last hour on the boat confidently reeling my line up, certain there was something wonderful on the end, only to find a big nothing.
But that’s okay with me because I was the big winner of the day! Everyone else had to throw their fishies back in the water, but the guide wanted to keep mine because he said it would make great bait (apparently NOT good eating, though).
When we finally returned to the dock, I had to have yet another celebratory photo, this one of me actually holding the nasty thing in my hands. Check out the photos (http://picasaweb.google.com/ellen.bucy) – I tried to look like a champion, but truthfully, I was still quite squeamish and terrified of this thing I had caught!
So it was a glorious day. And Bjorn was not the slightest bit upset that I had had the big catch. In fact, I think he was rather pleased, sharing in my big day and knowing my interest in fishing had been piqued.
Yesterday, when discussing the prospect of this fishing adventure, I told Bjorn there was no way I’d be able to ever keep anything I caught, let alone eat it, but I have to admit that the sport of it all got the best of me today. I was ready to FISH! It was good, good fun, and I’m excited to go again sometime! I’m sure, knowing Bjorn, I won’t have to wait too long.
I’ll be dreaming of barracudas tonight. Hope you’re dreaming of…something else. Much love.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Resolutions and Reflections
I have to say, I have written a TON this year (even if it’s not quite enough for some of you!) I thought I might actually be able to sit down and breeze through everything in a couple hours, but I only read through as far as leaving Bariloche before I just could not read any more!
But, wow. Those first two months in Argentina. What an unbelievable experience. It was overwhelming and challenging and stimulating and absolutely wonderful. Bjorn and I both have been having an overload of nostalgia for Argentina lately – thinking about it just makes me want to get on a plane and relive the whole thing. It was…everything.
The physical location of Argentina is certainly a huge part of, but it was also such a mentally stimulating time for me. The language, the culture – it was a time of enormous growth. Every day, especially during the seven weeks I was in classes, felt so PRODUCTIVE. I was filling myself up with new things, exhausting my brain, and really, truly accomplishing something.
The NZ trip has felt so completely different from the South America trip, and I think, at least thus far, the difference comes in the lack of challenge. It’s apparent in the blog – I feel like I have nothing to write about because my days here feel so mundane, and I don’t have too many stories that I think you’d all be interested in. It’s all restaurant bitching and gossiping – I feel like even Bjorn and I talk of nothing but the silly restaurant! Go away, restaurant! I didn’t come to NZ to stress about you!
So much of NZ is so familiar. In terms of international travel, it’s probably about as challenging for an American as going to Canada. Not very. Sure, there are little Kiwi peculiarities, and there’s that silly little accent of theirs, but, at the end of the day, it’s Western culture. The challenges – the good stuff – are next to none.
The greatest challenge I am experiencing right now? Motivating myself to get through the next two weeks of work. I somehow feel almost exactly like I did in the weeks before I left New York for Argentina, just without the dread and utter anxiety of getting on that plane.
It seems to me that if I’ve learned anything from this time of working in Akaroa, it’s how completely amazing backpacking around a country is. That freedom of waking up every day, wondering what you’re going to do or where you’ll go next. Not having to live the same day over and over again! That’s what it is! Not having to wake up to that damned alarm and know exactly what’s ahead of you for the next nine hours.
Of course, for me, this repetitiveness is complicated by the fact that I’m waitressing. On my feet all day. Listening to whining tourists make special requests for their dietary needs or those of their 2 year old, or complain about why did THAT table get their food before us when WE were here before them?! There is more to life, people! I want to tell them. You’re wasting your life feeling negative about waiting for your food!
And I? I am wasting mine feeling negative about serving these people.
But seriously, what I have learned from waitressing in Akaroa is that this “simple life” I’ve fantasized so much about doesn’t exist. Or it doesn’t exist the way I thought it might. You can live simply – you can wash your clothes by hand and hang them on the line, you can avoid the racket of the television or the cell phone or the computer, whatever. You can do all that stuff, but you can’t just take any ole job to bring in some money.
At the end of the day, if you don’t have something seriously meaningful to you at the center of your day (and that cannot only be your very meaningful relationship with your special someone) – something PRODUCTIVE and REAL to do with your time – you’re not going to be happy. At least I am not. I cannot function without meaning. I hit such extremely high notes in South America because every day was full – full of novelty and beauty and growth. My blog was interesting then because I was at my best, personally. I was in love with my life.
Sometimes I think perhaps I am asking too much of life for my days to be as full as they were in South America. Am I asking too much? I understand that my life cannot be one big high note – at least not the ins and outs of everyday life – but, neither should it be one big boring foghorn blare. That’s just not going to work for me. I need to be facing challenges, and I need to genuinely care whether I overcome them. Giving me challenges that I don’t care about? Yelling at me because I missed a spot mopping the restaurant floor yesterday morning? Booooring.
And so, I am challenging myself to a little writing. It’s 2009. I have a fresh page! (And I literally have a fresh page because Bjorn got me a beeeautiful new journal for Christmas. He’s so good.)
I’m not sure what the challenge ought to be – that I’ll write SOMETHING every day? Even if it’s one sentence.Yes, I should write something every day. But I cannot be that strict with myself on the blog. I resolve to write in the blog…twice a week. Something every day for myself, and twice a week for the blog. That’s reasonable. New Year’s resolutions are best when small.
Okay, okay, okay! Where has this entry gone! What am I talking about? Reading through the oldest entries just got me very juiced up and thinking all kinds of crazy things!
It’s time to move on! Greener pastures! And so it is. We are taking off in just over two weeks. We have vaguely mapped out our first few stops, but other than that, the trip shall create itself day by day. It will be so refreshing and wonderful, and I simply cannot wait!
But you’ll be hearing from me before then, now that I’ve laid down these writing resolutions. Arrrrgh!
Photos for you! Enjoy! And much, much love to you all.
http://picasaweb.google.com/ellen.bucy
But, wow. Those first two months in Argentina. What an unbelievable experience. It was overwhelming and challenging and stimulating and absolutely wonderful. Bjorn and I both have been having an overload of nostalgia for Argentina lately – thinking about it just makes me want to get on a plane and relive the whole thing. It was…everything.
The physical location of Argentina is certainly a huge part of, but it was also such a mentally stimulating time for me. The language, the culture – it was a time of enormous growth. Every day, especially during the seven weeks I was in classes, felt so PRODUCTIVE. I was filling myself up with new things, exhausting my brain, and really, truly accomplishing something.
The NZ trip has felt so completely different from the South America trip, and I think, at least thus far, the difference comes in the lack of challenge. It’s apparent in the blog – I feel like I have nothing to write about because my days here feel so mundane, and I don’t have too many stories that I think you’d all be interested in. It’s all restaurant bitching and gossiping – I feel like even Bjorn and I talk of nothing but the silly restaurant! Go away, restaurant! I didn’t come to NZ to stress about you!
So much of NZ is so familiar. In terms of international travel, it’s probably about as challenging for an American as going to Canada. Not very. Sure, there are little Kiwi peculiarities, and there’s that silly little accent of theirs, but, at the end of the day, it’s Western culture. The challenges – the good stuff – are next to none.
The greatest challenge I am experiencing right now? Motivating myself to get through the next two weeks of work. I somehow feel almost exactly like I did in the weeks before I left New York for Argentina, just without the dread and utter anxiety of getting on that plane.
It seems to me that if I’ve learned anything from this time of working in Akaroa, it’s how completely amazing backpacking around a country is. That freedom of waking up every day, wondering what you’re going to do or where you’ll go next. Not having to live the same day over and over again! That’s what it is! Not having to wake up to that damned alarm and know exactly what’s ahead of you for the next nine hours.
Of course, for me, this repetitiveness is complicated by the fact that I’m waitressing. On my feet all day. Listening to whining tourists make special requests for their dietary needs or those of their 2 year old, or complain about why did THAT table get their food before us when WE were here before them?! There is more to life, people! I want to tell them. You’re wasting your life feeling negative about waiting for your food!
And I? I am wasting mine feeling negative about serving these people.
But seriously, what I have learned from waitressing in Akaroa is that this “simple life” I’ve fantasized so much about doesn’t exist. Or it doesn’t exist the way I thought it might. You can live simply – you can wash your clothes by hand and hang them on the line, you can avoid the racket of the television or the cell phone or the computer, whatever. You can do all that stuff, but you can’t just take any ole job to bring in some money.
At the end of the day, if you don’t have something seriously meaningful to you at the center of your day (and that cannot only be your very meaningful relationship with your special someone) – something PRODUCTIVE and REAL to do with your time – you’re not going to be happy. At least I am not. I cannot function without meaning. I hit such extremely high notes in South America because every day was full – full of novelty and beauty and growth. My blog was interesting then because I was at my best, personally. I was in love with my life.
Sometimes I think perhaps I am asking too much of life for my days to be as full as they were in South America. Am I asking too much? I understand that my life cannot be one big high note – at least not the ins and outs of everyday life – but, neither should it be one big boring foghorn blare. That’s just not going to work for me. I need to be facing challenges, and I need to genuinely care whether I overcome them. Giving me challenges that I don’t care about? Yelling at me because I missed a spot mopping the restaurant floor yesterday morning? Booooring.
And so, I am challenging myself to a little writing. It’s 2009. I have a fresh page! (And I literally have a fresh page because Bjorn got me a beeeautiful new journal for Christmas. He’s so good.)
I’m not sure what the challenge ought to be – that I’ll write SOMETHING every day? Even if it’s one sentence.Yes, I should write something every day. But I cannot be that strict with myself on the blog. I resolve to write in the blog…twice a week. Something every day for myself, and twice a week for the blog. That’s reasonable. New Year’s resolutions are best when small.
Okay, okay, okay! Where has this entry gone! What am I talking about? Reading through the oldest entries just got me very juiced up and thinking all kinds of crazy things!
It’s time to move on! Greener pastures! And so it is. We are taking off in just over two weeks. We have vaguely mapped out our first few stops, but other than that, the trip shall create itself day by day. It will be so refreshing and wonderful, and I simply cannot wait!
But you’ll be hearing from me before then, now that I’ve laid down these writing resolutions. Arrrrgh!
Photos for you! Enjoy! And much, much love to you all.
http://picasaweb.google.com/ellen.bucy
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Bucy Family Fun
This entry is from a few days ago, but due to internet difficulties is only being posted now...and of course, with irritating random symbols. Sorry about that!
******
Where to begin, where to begin.
I致e put myself, yet again, in that irritating situation where I have too much to write about! So I will pull out a few highlights from the past week for you:
The whole Bucy family made it to NZ, without too much difficulty. There was a teeny bit of difficulty, of course. Mom and Dad somehow (and don稚 ask me how) booked themselves on different travel itineraries from Nashville to Christchurch, NZ. Mom was to fly to Denver, then San Francisco; Dad was to fly to Chicago, then San Francisco; and in San Francisco, they were to get onto the same flight to Auckland, and then onto Christchurch.
Well, Dad痴 silly flight from Chicago to SF was delayed by about three hours, so・e missed the flight leaving SF to NZ. They had had a marital pow wow ahead of time ・whether one should go on if another got left behind ・and decided that yes, one should go on. So Mom, arriving with plenty of time to catch the flight to NZ, came ahead, arriving in Christchurch around 8 AM on the Tuesday before Christmas. By some Christmas miracle, father dear made it onto another flight from SF to Sydney to Christchurch, so his arrival came a few hours later, around 3 PM on the same day. His luggage, of course, did not manage to arrive with him, though it was found and delivered to Akaroa by noon the following day. Not too shabby, all things considered!
John came two days earlier, directly from SF, so he had zero problems and spent a couple days in Christchurch, touring around on his own.
Our time in Akaroa was great. Christmas Eve morning was spent, rather untraditionally, swimming with the dolphins in the Akaroa Harbor. Here in our harbor, we have the densest population in the world of a rare species of dolphin called Hector痴 Dolphins. The tourism industry has naturally taken advantage of this fact by taking eager tourists out into the bay on boats, waiting til a pod of dolphins has been spotted, and then throwing the tourists into the water to play with the dolphins.
Mom, John, Bjorn, and I all donned very attractive wetsuits (Dad decided he would just be a spectator), and we were off! We spotted the dolphins very quickly and easily, so the boat parked itself, and one by one, we made our way into the water. Mom stayed in the water for about 30 seconds, before climbing back into the boat, and I can completely sympathize ・the water was FREEZING! And even though they had told us that the water would only feel cold for a few minutes, until our wetsuits had properly warmed us, the water still does take your breath away, and when you can稚 breathe, it痴 hard to rationalize that if you値l just continue to not breathe for a few minutes, it will all be just fine. So Mom and Dad stayed on the boat, which worked out well, because they were able to take millions of pictures of us swimming with the dolphins!
The dolphins wanted to play, and though we were told not to touch them, it was plenty exciting to just watch three of them swimming right towards you, then at the very last minute, separate, and dive under and around you. And, to my surprise, it wasn稚 just like the dolphins came, played for a minute, and then went on their way. They stayed with us for about an hour! It was wild!
Christmas morning, we went to a service at the local Presbyterian Church. Overall, the service was, well, sweet. There were probably 40 people present, we sang a few of the traditional hymns, as well as one Maori one, we listened to Christmas stories, and ate small pieces of a homemade Christmas cake, a favorite tradition of this particular church. I was sort of giggly during the whole service ・the piano player was all over the place, hitting more wrong notes than right ones, and the reading of the main Christmas story was taken from 典he Rhyme Bible・(I will leave that to your imaginations). But, like I said, it was sweet. Far from the pomp of the Westminster Christmas Eve service, but sweet and genuine. And there was a moment at the very end of the service, when the minister stretched his hands out to the tiny congregation and spoke the same words that the ministers at Westminster conclude with, and I just felt my the hairs on my body stand straight up, rippled with goosebumps. It痴 always a jolting sensation to realize how similar things can be when so far away.
The weather was terrible for the rest of the afternoon, which was disappointing to Bjorn and me, as we were eager to show off the beauty of our surrounding bays, but these things are out of our control, I suppose!
I did, interestingly, receive a personal invitation to Steve痴 family痴 Christmas Day barbecue ・extremely decent and kind of him, I thought. So we spent Christmas night with the Bradleys, as well as the other homeless restaurant staff.
The next morning we were off to Queenstown. We made it by 7 PM on Friday night, after a gorgeous ・though slightly long ・drive. Queenstown is quite a bit bigger than Akaroa, but is still pretty small, with a population of about 8500. It sits on the edge of the huge Lake Wakatipu and is supposed to be the Adventure Capital of the World, mostly because the first bungee jump ever was performed there. They do have all kinds of adventurey things to do, though I can稚 say the family Bucy was too eager about those. We stuck to relaxed boat rides, hikes up to stunning views, wandering about the local cemetery, and a little fine dining.
Sunday was to be a big day for us. I had booked us all to go on a 擢ly Cruise Fly・tour of Milford Sound, the number one tourist attraction in New Zealand. We were going to fly into Milford on a small airplane, take a boat cruise on the sound, and then fly back to Queenstown, all in about 4 hours. Well, the weather in Milford is constantly rainy. I think it rains there like 350 days a year or something. So I shouldn稚 have been surprised when, on the morning of our flight, the tour company called to say that they wouldn稚 be flying that day due to weather. Ugh!
But we were up and at 粗m, so we decided to just make the 4.5 hour drive to Milford, take the cruise, and drive ourselves back. I have to say that I am actually really glad that we ended up driving, because the drive was beautiful. At this time of year, lupine, a sort of conical flower, blooms all over the place around NZ. And I mean, ALL OVER THE PLACE! Fields of this one flower stretch for miles and miles down the sides of the highway, and huge patches of it frame the rivers running down the road into Milford. Deep purple, lilac, pink, ivory, and yellow blossoms mix with each other at random, creating this awesome and quite unbelievable burst of color.
And finally arriving into Milford Sound was quite amazing. The scenery changes gradually from farmland to forest to rainforest, and suddenly, you drive out of the rainforest, and find yourself staring out at these huge gray walls of stone that rise up and up and up before disappearing into the low lying clouds. Fat, white streams of water cascade down the face of the mountains, coming from some mysterious place in the clouds, totally invisible to the viewer.
To support the tourist industry (or for some other reason I don稚 know), a tunnel was drilled (drilled!) through some of these mountains, creating a pass into Milford Sound. It would otherwise be rather unreachable. On either side of the tunnel is a traffic signal, which changes every fifteen minutes, telling one direction of traffic that it痴 okay to GO! Not sure I壇 want to go through that tunnel after 6 PM, when they turn the signals off. Yikes.
We boarded a little boat in the rain and took off into the misty sound. After just a few minutes on the boat, the rain stopped, so we were able to go up onto the top of the boat and take it all in. It was really stunning. (And I have photos!) The cruise passed very quickly, though all I did was stand up there drool at the scenery. Rushing waterfalls pouring down lush, green mountains into the steely grey water. The moistness of the air. The fine, white mist spraying from the waterfalls. The full rain clouds hiding the tops of the mountains. It was like nothing I致e seen before.
We made it back to Queenstown that night with little trouble, tired, but energized by the day痴 incredible sights. At least I was ・I should not speak for the family!
And the following morning, I boarded a bus to bring me back to Christchurch. Brother John痴 plane back to SF left later that afternoon. And now Mom and Dad are cruising up the West Coast! I hope they are having a good time! They値l be in Christchurch tomorrow and I値l have three nights to hang out with them before they head back to Tennessee on Monday.
So, so, so. The family adventure in NZ is now (almost) over, another Christmas has passed, it痴 2009. I can稚 even begin with what a year 2008 was. What a year! And though I致e been a bit slacking on the blog lately, I am so glad to have this record of the year. I知 going to have a big sit down with it next week, on the anniversary of my leaving New York, and read it all!
I hope everyone has had a wonderful Christmas. Happy New Year to you all! And much love.
******
Where to begin, where to begin.
I致e put myself, yet again, in that irritating situation where I have too much to write about! So I will pull out a few highlights from the past week for you:
The whole Bucy family made it to NZ, without too much difficulty. There was a teeny bit of difficulty, of course. Mom and Dad somehow (and don稚 ask me how) booked themselves on different travel itineraries from Nashville to Christchurch, NZ. Mom was to fly to Denver, then San Francisco; Dad was to fly to Chicago, then San Francisco; and in San Francisco, they were to get onto the same flight to Auckland, and then onto Christchurch.
Well, Dad痴 silly flight from Chicago to SF was delayed by about three hours, so・e missed the flight leaving SF to NZ. They had had a marital pow wow ahead of time ・whether one should go on if another got left behind ・and decided that yes, one should go on. So Mom, arriving with plenty of time to catch the flight to NZ, came ahead, arriving in Christchurch around 8 AM on the Tuesday before Christmas. By some Christmas miracle, father dear made it onto another flight from SF to Sydney to Christchurch, so his arrival came a few hours later, around 3 PM on the same day. His luggage, of course, did not manage to arrive with him, though it was found and delivered to Akaroa by noon the following day. Not too shabby, all things considered!
John came two days earlier, directly from SF, so he had zero problems and spent a couple days in Christchurch, touring around on his own.
Our time in Akaroa was great. Christmas Eve morning was spent, rather untraditionally, swimming with the dolphins in the Akaroa Harbor. Here in our harbor, we have the densest population in the world of a rare species of dolphin called Hector痴 Dolphins. The tourism industry has naturally taken advantage of this fact by taking eager tourists out into the bay on boats, waiting til a pod of dolphins has been spotted, and then throwing the tourists into the water to play with the dolphins.
Mom, John, Bjorn, and I all donned very attractive wetsuits (Dad decided he would just be a spectator), and we were off! We spotted the dolphins very quickly and easily, so the boat parked itself, and one by one, we made our way into the water. Mom stayed in the water for about 30 seconds, before climbing back into the boat, and I can completely sympathize ・the water was FREEZING! And even though they had told us that the water would only feel cold for a few minutes, until our wetsuits had properly warmed us, the water still does take your breath away, and when you can稚 breathe, it痴 hard to rationalize that if you値l just continue to not breathe for a few minutes, it will all be just fine. So Mom and Dad stayed on the boat, which worked out well, because they were able to take millions of pictures of us swimming with the dolphins!
The dolphins wanted to play, and though we were told not to touch them, it was plenty exciting to just watch three of them swimming right towards you, then at the very last minute, separate, and dive under and around you. And, to my surprise, it wasn稚 just like the dolphins came, played for a minute, and then went on their way. They stayed with us for about an hour! It was wild!
Christmas morning, we went to a service at the local Presbyterian Church. Overall, the service was, well, sweet. There were probably 40 people present, we sang a few of the traditional hymns, as well as one Maori one, we listened to Christmas stories, and ate small pieces of a homemade Christmas cake, a favorite tradition of this particular church. I was sort of giggly during the whole service ・the piano player was all over the place, hitting more wrong notes than right ones, and the reading of the main Christmas story was taken from 典he Rhyme Bible・(I will leave that to your imaginations). But, like I said, it was sweet. Far from the pomp of the Westminster Christmas Eve service, but sweet and genuine. And there was a moment at the very end of the service, when the minister stretched his hands out to the tiny congregation and spoke the same words that the ministers at Westminster conclude with, and I just felt my the hairs on my body stand straight up, rippled with goosebumps. It痴 always a jolting sensation to realize how similar things can be when so far away.
The weather was terrible for the rest of the afternoon, which was disappointing to Bjorn and me, as we were eager to show off the beauty of our surrounding bays, but these things are out of our control, I suppose!
I did, interestingly, receive a personal invitation to Steve痴 family痴 Christmas Day barbecue ・extremely decent and kind of him, I thought. So we spent Christmas night with the Bradleys, as well as the other homeless restaurant staff.
The next morning we were off to Queenstown. We made it by 7 PM on Friday night, after a gorgeous ・though slightly long ・drive. Queenstown is quite a bit bigger than Akaroa, but is still pretty small, with a population of about 8500. It sits on the edge of the huge Lake Wakatipu and is supposed to be the Adventure Capital of the World, mostly because the first bungee jump ever was performed there. They do have all kinds of adventurey things to do, though I can稚 say the family Bucy was too eager about those. We stuck to relaxed boat rides, hikes up to stunning views, wandering about the local cemetery, and a little fine dining.
Sunday was to be a big day for us. I had booked us all to go on a 擢ly Cruise Fly・tour of Milford Sound, the number one tourist attraction in New Zealand. We were going to fly into Milford on a small airplane, take a boat cruise on the sound, and then fly back to Queenstown, all in about 4 hours. Well, the weather in Milford is constantly rainy. I think it rains there like 350 days a year or something. So I shouldn稚 have been surprised when, on the morning of our flight, the tour company called to say that they wouldn稚 be flying that day due to weather. Ugh!
But we were up and at 粗m, so we decided to just make the 4.5 hour drive to Milford, take the cruise, and drive ourselves back. I have to say that I am actually really glad that we ended up driving, because the drive was beautiful. At this time of year, lupine, a sort of conical flower, blooms all over the place around NZ. And I mean, ALL OVER THE PLACE! Fields of this one flower stretch for miles and miles down the sides of the highway, and huge patches of it frame the rivers running down the road into Milford. Deep purple, lilac, pink, ivory, and yellow blossoms mix with each other at random, creating this awesome and quite unbelievable burst of color.
And finally arriving into Milford Sound was quite amazing. The scenery changes gradually from farmland to forest to rainforest, and suddenly, you drive out of the rainforest, and find yourself staring out at these huge gray walls of stone that rise up and up and up before disappearing into the low lying clouds. Fat, white streams of water cascade down the face of the mountains, coming from some mysterious place in the clouds, totally invisible to the viewer.
To support the tourist industry (or for some other reason I don稚 know), a tunnel was drilled (drilled!) through some of these mountains, creating a pass into Milford Sound. It would otherwise be rather unreachable. On either side of the tunnel is a traffic signal, which changes every fifteen minutes, telling one direction of traffic that it痴 okay to GO! Not sure I壇 want to go through that tunnel after 6 PM, when they turn the signals off. Yikes.
We boarded a little boat in the rain and took off into the misty sound. After just a few minutes on the boat, the rain stopped, so we were able to go up onto the top of the boat and take it all in. It was really stunning. (And I have photos!) The cruise passed very quickly, though all I did was stand up there drool at the scenery. Rushing waterfalls pouring down lush, green mountains into the steely grey water. The moistness of the air. The fine, white mist spraying from the waterfalls. The full rain clouds hiding the tops of the mountains. It was like nothing I致e seen before.
We made it back to Queenstown that night with little trouble, tired, but energized by the day痴 incredible sights. At least I was ・I should not speak for the family!
And the following morning, I boarded a bus to bring me back to Christchurch. Brother John痴 plane back to SF left later that afternoon. And now Mom and Dad are cruising up the West Coast! I hope they are having a good time! They値l be in Christchurch tomorrow and I値l have three nights to hang out with them before they head back to Tennessee on Monday.
So, so, so. The family adventure in NZ is now (almost) over, another Christmas has passed, it痴 2009. I can稚 even begin with what a year 2008 was. What a year! And though I致e been a bit slacking on the blog lately, I am so glad to have this record of the year. I知 going to have a big sit down with it next week, on the anniversary of my leaving New York, and read it all!
I hope everyone has had a wonderful Christmas. Happy New Year to you all! And much love.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The Dilemma (and the Drama)
I’m getting paid $13 NZ per hour to be a waitress at Vangioni’s. I believe the exchange rate for the US dollar is about 0.53 right now, so that makes my hourly rate $6.90 US. I know you’re not supposed to talk about money, but I am trying to set the stage for you. I’m not making any money. People paid me more to care for their children when I was just 14 years old.
NZ restaurants do not operate like US ones, where you pay the staff a crap wage but the customers are, at least, obliged to tip a certain percentage of the bill. No, no. Tips are not expected in this country. It’s something that people will do only if they really feel they’ve had AMAZING service. At Vangioni’s, we keep a tip jar at the bar, and any tips we receive go into that jar, to be split by the whole staff (wait staff, kitchen staff) at the end of the week. This amounts to about $50 per week. In addition, I do get a meal and a drink every shift I work.
My parents taught me to be a responsible employee – don’t take too many days off, arrive early, dress appropriately, etc. – but somewhere along the way, being responsible turned into being pathetic. I have felt lately like I have some kind of chip installed in my brain that makes me a total pushover to my employers. Work comes first! Make the boss happy! Even if he’s not paying you anything!
I felt this way, to some extent, at my old job in New York. I found it impossible to say no to my boss, even if it meant canceling trips home for work. If he said he needed me, I HAD to be there. No questions asked. Of course, that was a different situation than I’m in now. I was getting paid well over a living wage, and had a beautiful office to work in, and a large amount of responsibility to call my own.
When my family (finally) informed me about a month ago that they had bought their plane tickets to NZ for Christmas, I was thrilled. But that little pathetic employee inside me said, I’m going to have to work, so I won’t be able to travel with you all, but I’ll put together a lovely itinerary for you of places to visit.
And so I busied myself for the next couple of weeks with researching and booking. The final plan was this: My family was to arrive in Akaroa, spend three nights here, then go on to Queenstown for three nights. My brother would then leave to go back to the States, and my parents would have a few more days on the road, touring the West coast of the South Island, and then spend their last three nights in Christchurch, where I would come spend a day or two with them.
So…my parents were going to come for TWO weeks, and I was going to get to see them for four days? Hm. Something’s not right here.
The fact that it took me until about two weeks ago to realize that I was about to miss out on a once in a lifetime opportunity (because, really – when will the four of us Bucys be in NZ together again?) is absurd. And all for work! It didn’t even occur to me that I should just ditch the job (not making me any money anyhow) and go spend some QT with them family. That would just be asking too much of my boss, I thought to myself. I actually told myself this! I couldn’t do this to him, I said.
ELLEN! WAKE UP! My friends here started saying to me, as I described my family’s trip to them. If it was me, they said, I would take the whole two weeks, even if my boss fired me for it. There’s just no question about it. Family comes first.
So, I decided, I am going to just tell Steve. Just going to tell him that I at least need six days off – three for the time the family’s in Akaroa, and three for the days in Queenstown while my brother is still around. I at least need that. Well, by the time I’d resolved all of my doubts and found the courage to tell my boss that I would be taking a week starting the 23rd, I overheard my adorable French friends, Franky and Celine, telling Steve that they’re quitting. Their last day will be the 22nd.
ARGH!
So I put off MY conversation another week, mental deliberations starting all over again. How could I do this to Steve? He’s going to be screwed! Christmas week with no staff! Then again, he’s paying me $13. If he really wanted to keep his staff, perhaps he could, you know, give us an incentive to stay? I’m going to feel so sick to spend three days here with my family and then watch them all leave together for Queenstown.
I talked all of this over with Bjorn (who has been very upset with Steve’s employer skills all along), and he encouraged me to do whatever I felt was right. He said he was committed to work at the supply store at least til mid-January, but if the conversation with Steve didn’t go well, and I had to quit, he was totally behind me.
So last Thursday, I went to talk to Steve. I had in my head this whole scenario – how I was going to just lay it all on the line. I must travel with my parents, I’d say. I am taking six days off. I know I’m putting you in a hard spot, but this is just how it has to be.
I was not nearly that blunt about things, of course. So Steve, I said, I’ve been thinking, it’s going to really upset me to not spend more time with my parents while they’re here.
Well, I ought to be able to give you the 23rd and 24th, he said, and we’re closed Christmas Day.
Well, those days are really non-negotiable, I said. But I need a few more days, too. I know you can understand – you’re very close with your family. Wouldn’t you feel miserable if they came half-way across the world to see you, and you didn’t get to see them more than three days?
Sure, he said. I understand. And I wish I could just tell you to take two weeks off, but with Franky and Celine leaving, I have no staff. And I just noticed Jody put a for sale sign on her car – do you know anything about that? (I did know. Jody, one of the chefs, lives in our house, and she’s decided she wants to leave mid-January but has been too scared to tell Steve.)
Um, no, I lied. Didn’t she just buy that car?
Steve was growing more agitated by the minute. My approach in unpleasant situations is to try to just be as honest as possible. To admit wrongs, to explain myself as much as possible, to try to get the person to relate to me. So I said, It’s just hard, Steve. Because none of us have anything tying us to this place. (Which is true, you know. You employ travelers without making them sign a contract or offering them some kind of incentive to stay longer, and…what do you THINK is going to happen? They’re going to up and leave when their eyes are ready for new scenery.)
For whatever reason, that was just the wrong thing to say. Steve shot his eyes over at me, and I could sense a sort of rage building up inside his body.
Yeah, cool, he said. I get it. I’ll see you later. And he just walked out of the restaurant, forcing himself to shut, not slam, the door behind him.
I sat there at the bar of the restaurant, in the silence and dark, looking at the gorgeous day going on out the front windows, and wondering how I’d gotten myself into all of this drama?
Still unsure about what Steve and I had resolved, I left the restaurant and went back home. And I started to think about the situation and the way Steve had behaved (a grown man, my employer, walking out on our conversation!), and this light just flicked on in my head. This is ridiculous. I was going to stay here and work instead of spend time with my family for THIS man. No, thank you.
I waited two days for Steve to say something. Something like, sorry about walking out the other day. I was having a really bad day. If you have to take days off, I guess you will. Say SOMETHING! But he just sort of picked back up as usual, making pleasant conversation.
So I finally just wrote him a note, saying, Just so you have the dates in writing, I’m unavailable to work Dec. 23-29. Thanks.
And that is that, my friends. And I couldn’t be happier about it all!
I hate being involved (or even watching from the outside) these kinds of silly work dramas. And the restaurant has felt like that lately, because the whole staff has sort of collectively realized that they’re ready to move on…at the same time. And that is rough for Steve. But he needs to grow up and stop walking away from conversations. He’s the boss, so he needs to figure out how to make his staff stay if he doesn’t want this to keep happening. That’s his job!
Drama!
Okay. So, Brother John arrives on Sunday. Still not sure what his plan is but am hoping he’ll just pick up the rental car and come straight to Akaroa. Mums and Dads get in on Tuesday morning. We’ll have three days hanging out in Akaroa, and then we are off to Queenstown on Friday! Yipee! I am certain it will be worth any and all of the agony Steve endures next week. (But don’t tell him I said that.)
Day off today! Not sure what will happen, but it’s a rainy day so I imagine it will be a fairly lazy one. Love to you all.
NZ restaurants do not operate like US ones, where you pay the staff a crap wage but the customers are, at least, obliged to tip a certain percentage of the bill. No, no. Tips are not expected in this country. It’s something that people will do only if they really feel they’ve had AMAZING service. At Vangioni’s, we keep a tip jar at the bar, and any tips we receive go into that jar, to be split by the whole staff (wait staff, kitchen staff) at the end of the week. This amounts to about $50 per week. In addition, I do get a meal and a drink every shift I work.
My parents taught me to be a responsible employee – don’t take too many days off, arrive early, dress appropriately, etc. – but somewhere along the way, being responsible turned into being pathetic. I have felt lately like I have some kind of chip installed in my brain that makes me a total pushover to my employers. Work comes first! Make the boss happy! Even if he’s not paying you anything!
I felt this way, to some extent, at my old job in New York. I found it impossible to say no to my boss, even if it meant canceling trips home for work. If he said he needed me, I HAD to be there. No questions asked. Of course, that was a different situation than I’m in now. I was getting paid well over a living wage, and had a beautiful office to work in, and a large amount of responsibility to call my own.
When my family (finally) informed me about a month ago that they had bought their plane tickets to NZ for Christmas, I was thrilled. But that little pathetic employee inside me said, I’m going to have to work, so I won’t be able to travel with you all, but I’ll put together a lovely itinerary for you of places to visit.
And so I busied myself for the next couple of weeks with researching and booking. The final plan was this: My family was to arrive in Akaroa, spend three nights here, then go on to Queenstown for three nights. My brother would then leave to go back to the States, and my parents would have a few more days on the road, touring the West coast of the South Island, and then spend their last three nights in Christchurch, where I would come spend a day or two with them.
So…my parents were going to come for TWO weeks, and I was going to get to see them for four days? Hm. Something’s not right here.
The fact that it took me until about two weeks ago to realize that I was about to miss out on a once in a lifetime opportunity (because, really – when will the four of us Bucys be in NZ together again?) is absurd. And all for work! It didn’t even occur to me that I should just ditch the job (not making me any money anyhow) and go spend some QT with them family. That would just be asking too much of my boss, I thought to myself. I actually told myself this! I couldn’t do this to him, I said.
ELLEN! WAKE UP! My friends here started saying to me, as I described my family’s trip to them. If it was me, they said, I would take the whole two weeks, even if my boss fired me for it. There’s just no question about it. Family comes first.
So, I decided, I am going to just tell Steve. Just going to tell him that I at least need six days off – three for the time the family’s in Akaroa, and three for the days in Queenstown while my brother is still around. I at least need that. Well, by the time I’d resolved all of my doubts and found the courage to tell my boss that I would be taking a week starting the 23rd, I overheard my adorable French friends, Franky and Celine, telling Steve that they’re quitting. Their last day will be the 22nd.
ARGH!
So I put off MY conversation another week, mental deliberations starting all over again. How could I do this to Steve? He’s going to be screwed! Christmas week with no staff! Then again, he’s paying me $13. If he really wanted to keep his staff, perhaps he could, you know, give us an incentive to stay? I’m going to feel so sick to spend three days here with my family and then watch them all leave together for Queenstown.
I talked all of this over with Bjorn (who has been very upset with Steve’s employer skills all along), and he encouraged me to do whatever I felt was right. He said he was committed to work at the supply store at least til mid-January, but if the conversation with Steve didn’t go well, and I had to quit, he was totally behind me.
So last Thursday, I went to talk to Steve. I had in my head this whole scenario – how I was going to just lay it all on the line. I must travel with my parents, I’d say. I am taking six days off. I know I’m putting you in a hard spot, but this is just how it has to be.
I was not nearly that blunt about things, of course. So Steve, I said, I’ve been thinking, it’s going to really upset me to not spend more time with my parents while they’re here.
Well, I ought to be able to give you the 23rd and 24th, he said, and we’re closed Christmas Day.
Well, those days are really non-negotiable, I said. But I need a few more days, too. I know you can understand – you’re very close with your family. Wouldn’t you feel miserable if they came half-way across the world to see you, and you didn’t get to see them more than three days?
Sure, he said. I understand. And I wish I could just tell you to take two weeks off, but with Franky and Celine leaving, I have no staff. And I just noticed Jody put a for sale sign on her car – do you know anything about that? (I did know. Jody, one of the chefs, lives in our house, and she’s decided she wants to leave mid-January but has been too scared to tell Steve.)
Um, no, I lied. Didn’t she just buy that car?
Steve was growing more agitated by the minute. My approach in unpleasant situations is to try to just be as honest as possible. To admit wrongs, to explain myself as much as possible, to try to get the person to relate to me. So I said, It’s just hard, Steve. Because none of us have anything tying us to this place. (Which is true, you know. You employ travelers without making them sign a contract or offering them some kind of incentive to stay longer, and…what do you THINK is going to happen? They’re going to up and leave when their eyes are ready for new scenery.)
For whatever reason, that was just the wrong thing to say. Steve shot his eyes over at me, and I could sense a sort of rage building up inside his body.
Yeah, cool, he said. I get it. I’ll see you later. And he just walked out of the restaurant, forcing himself to shut, not slam, the door behind him.
I sat there at the bar of the restaurant, in the silence and dark, looking at the gorgeous day going on out the front windows, and wondering how I’d gotten myself into all of this drama?
Still unsure about what Steve and I had resolved, I left the restaurant and went back home. And I started to think about the situation and the way Steve had behaved (a grown man, my employer, walking out on our conversation!), and this light just flicked on in my head. This is ridiculous. I was going to stay here and work instead of spend time with my family for THIS man. No, thank you.
I waited two days for Steve to say something. Something like, sorry about walking out the other day. I was having a really bad day. If you have to take days off, I guess you will. Say SOMETHING! But he just sort of picked back up as usual, making pleasant conversation.
So I finally just wrote him a note, saying, Just so you have the dates in writing, I’m unavailable to work Dec. 23-29. Thanks.
And that is that, my friends. And I couldn’t be happier about it all!
I hate being involved (or even watching from the outside) these kinds of silly work dramas. And the restaurant has felt like that lately, because the whole staff has sort of collectively realized that they’re ready to move on…at the same time. And that is rough for Steve. But he needs to grow up and stop walking away from conversations. He’s the boss, so he needs to figure out how to make his staff stay if he doesn’t want this to keep happening. That’s his job!
Drama!
Okay. So, Brother John arrives on Sunday. Still not sure what his plan is but am hoping he’ll just pick up the rental car and come straight to Akaroa. Mums and Dads get in on Tuesday morning. We’ll have three days hanging out in Akaroa, and then we are off to Queenstown on Friday! Yipee! I am certain it will be worth any and all of the agony Steve endures next week. (But don’t tell him I said that.)
Day off today! Not sure what will happen, but it’s a rainy day so I imagine it will be a fairly lazy one. Love to you all.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The Greatest Day in NZ So Far!
Today may have been the best day in NZ so far. It was a totally unplanned day, but unplanned days often turn out to be the most memorable, don’t they?
We both had the day off today, and usually, we’ve planned in advance (at least loosely) something fun to do for the day. That something often involves leaving Akaroa because, well, it’s a small place. One gets a bit stir crazy and aches for new scenery (which is pitiful when the scenery is as gorgeous as it is). But we had planned nothing other than sleeping in and maybe going for a walk somewhere.
So the best day in NZ so far started with sleeping in. Such a luxury, sleeping in! Just starts the day off right. Then we had a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs and some super (if I do say so myself) chocolate chip banana bread that I made yesterday. We then messed around the house for a while, putting in a bit of laundry, taking the recyclables over to the depot, cleaning up, making phone calls home. Household chores under control, we threw a few munchies into a backpack and hopped into Betty, aiming for a spot of reserve land nearby. (There are little walking tracks all over NZ, so we often drive past little signs indicating trails and make mental notes to go back sometime.)
The whole bay area was covered with low clouds this morning, and as we drove up and out of Akaroa, we gradually found ourselves surrounded by white mist. We could see none of the mountains around us! But the mist made our walking track pleasantly cool and moist – it was like being in the rainforest a bit. We did a short loop around, and then got back into Betty. Well, that was fun. What’s next?
So we drove ourselves over to the other side of the harbor to a little village called Wainui. We drove and drove and looked at the birds and the sheep and the harbor. Such a lovely place we are living right now! We drove past Wainui, and kept going until the road turned to gravel. We had an amazing view of the mouth of the harbor, where it spills into the Pacific Ocean. Living in Akaroa, where you can’t see the mouth of the harbor, it’s easy to feel like you’re in a very cozy, enclosed space, with mountains all around you. But when you finally see the mouth, and see the enormous, endless Pacific beyond, you get a sense of how small you are and of how completely surrounded by WATER you really are!
By the time we were heading away from Wainui, the sky was revealing small bits of blue. Must be breaking up! (I should mention that the weather here is nothing to write home about. I thought I was being so smart heading to NZ for its summertime, but I hardly call this weather summery. It’s completely unpredictable. 80 degrees and sunny for two days, 50 degrees and cloudy for three days, hailing for one day, and then hot and sunny again the next. I had been told before I left that you experience four seasons in a day in NZ, and I filed that away in my “whatever” file, but it’s completely true. And forget the weather forecast. Nobody has a clue what’s going to happen from one hour to the next.)
Anyway, skies were clearing, and it was getting to be lunchtime. Why don’t we stop in Duvauchelle (small town nearby) and grab a sandwich at the store? Someone told me recently that they have great sandwiches. So we stopped, ordered two curried chicken sandwiches and two beers and had a seat on the outdoor patio. We watched the clouds break apart, cars whiz by, geese and black swans bobbing around out on the water. Just generally relaxed and enjoyed ourselves.
Know what we should do after lunch, I said? Let’s go out on the spit!
The spit is the Onawe Spit, a long, narrow piece of land that juts dramatically into the harbor on the northern end. We pass it every time we drive into Christchurch and wonder to each other if it’s possible to walk out there, but until today, we never have just stopped and tried to walk out there. And sure enough, there’s a walking track all the way!
I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe the spit with just my words, and it’s really hard! From the mainland, the track rises sharply up, and then back down again, right into the water. The track continues a few feet later on another patch of land, with a steep climb up some rocks, all the way up to a large grassy area on top. So it’s like two humpbacks jutting up from the water, the first one a bit smaller than the second.
The walking track climbs precariously over the narrow pieces of land. Both sides of the track spill straight down to the coastline, making the track a bit of a balance beam – if you step off of the track, you are going to take a very rocky fall. But once you get onto the second patch of land and climb up a ways, you finish with a nice gradual climb up some grassy fields, and you get an AMAZING view of the harbor. It was so lovely up there – we couldn’t believe we’d been here two months and never done this walk!
On the way back down, we were feeling very hot and sweaty, so we decided we ought to take a little dip in the water. We stripped down to our under-things and started to make our way in. The water was freezing. Ice cold. I had just my feet and ankles in, then Bjorn jumped in all the way. How bad is it? I asked. It’s COLD! He said. But you have to come in! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I screamed, and I jumped for it. When I came up for air, I was gasping. AAAAAA! SOOOO COOOOLD! I CAN’T TOUCH! BJORN, I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T. I thought I was going to get myself under control and it would warm up, but suddenly, I actually couldn’t breathe. I was gasping. We got back over to the shore and everything was completely fine, but yikes! I’ve never actually gotten in water so cold it literally took my breath away.
I put my clothes back on pretty quickly, and it’s a good thing, because probably thirty seconds after I finished dressing, a huge group of school children came bounding over the hill. Ha!
What a day it was! I don’t know if we were both in great moods and anything would’ve been great fun, but it was just such a nice, free, unplanned day. And while many people might find nothing to do in a place like Akaroa, Bjorn and I have been very good at exploring all the nooks and crannies around the bay area.
I like Bjorn because he brings out this part of me that I lost years and years ago. I remember myself as a fearless child, wanting to go out and get dirty, pick up frogs, have mud fights. But I went to college and life became a party, I went to New York and life became trendy, and I lost the part of me that loves to go out exploring and playing and not caring about getting dirty or being seen acting foolish. I love that part of me, and I’m glad to have found it again.
So! Time in Akaroa is running out, believe it or not. In less than two weeks, the family arrives, and by the time they leave on January 5th, we’ll only have three and a half weeks left here. And that’s fine with us, I think. The travel bug is itching both of us pretty badly. We can’t wait to get back out there!
We both had the day off today, and usually, we’ve planned in advance (at least loosely) something fun to do for the day. That something often involves leaving Akaroa because, well, it’s a small place. One gets a bit stir crazy and aches for new scenery (which is pitiful when the scenery is as gorgeous as it is). But we had planned nothing other than sleeping in and maybe going for a walk somewhere.
So the best day in NZ so far started with sleeping in. Such a luxury, sleeping in! Just starts the day off right. Then we had a delicious breakfast of scrambled eggs and some super (if I do say so myself) chocolate chip banana bread that I made yesterday. We then messed around the house for a while, putting in a bit of laundry, taking the recyclables over to the depot, cleaning up, making phone calls home. Household chores under control, we threw a few munchies into a backpack and hopped into Betty, aiming for a spot of reserve land nearby. (There are little walking tracks all over NZ, so we often drive past little signs indicating trails and make mental notes to go back sometime.)
The whole bay area was covered with low clouds this morning, and as we drove up and out of Akaroa, we gradually found ourselves surrounded by white mist. We could see none of the mountains around us! But the mist made our walking track pleasantly cool and moist – it was like being in the rainforest a bit. We did a short loop around, and then got back into Betty. Well, that was fun. What’s next?
So we drove ourselves over to the other side of the harbor to a little village called Wainui. We drove and drove and looked at the birds and the sheep and the harbor. Such a lovely place we are living right now! We drove past Wainui, and kept going until the road turned to gravel. We had an amazing view of the mouth of the harbor, where it spills into the Pacific Ocean. Living in Akaroa, where you can’t see the mouth of the harbor, it’s easy to feel like you’re in a very cozy, enclosed space, with mountains all around you. But when you finally see the mouth, and see the enormous, endless Pacific beyond, you get a sense of how small you are and of how completely surrounded by WATER you really are!
By the time we were heading away from Wainui, the sky was revealing small bits of blue. Must be breaking up! (I should mention that the weather here is nothing to write home about. I thought I was being so smart heading to NZ for its summertime, but I hardly call this weather summery. It’s completely unpredictable. 80 degrees and sunny for two days, 50 degrees and cloudy for three days, hailing for one day, and then hot and sunny again the next. I had been told before I left that you experience four seasons in a day in NZ, and I filed that away in my “whatever” file, but it’s completely true. And forget the weather forecast. Nobody has a clue what’s going to happen from one hour to the next.)
Anyway, skies were clearing, and it was getting to be lunchtime. Why don’t we stop in Duvauchelle (small town nearby) and grab a sandwich at the store? Someone told me recently that they have great sandwiches. So we stopped, ordered two curried chicken sandwiches and two beers and had a seat on the outdoor patio. We watched the clouds break apart, cars whiz by, geese and black swans bobbing around out on the water. Just generally relaxed and enjoyed ourselves.
Know what we should do after lunch, I said? Let’s go out on the spit!
The spit is the Onawe Spit, a long, narrow piece of land that juts dramatically into the harbor on the northern end. We pass it every time we drive into Christchurch and wonder to each other if it’s possible to walk out there, but until today, we never have just stopped and tried to walk out there. And sure enough, there’s a walking track all the way!
I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe the spit with just my words, and it’s really hard! From the mainland, the track rises sharply up, and then back down again, right into the water. The track continues a few feet later on another patch of land, with a steep climb up some rocks, all the way up to a large grassy area on top. So it’s like two humpbacks jutting up from the water, the first one a bit smaller than the second.
The walking track climbs precariously over the narrow pieces of land. Both sides of the track spill straight down to the coastline, making the track a bit of a balance beam – if you step off of the track, you are going to take a very rocky fall. But once you get onto the second patch of land and climb up a ways, you finish with a nice gradual climb up some grassy fields, and you get an AMAZING view of the harbor. It was so lovely up there – we couldn’t believe we’d been here two months and never done this walk!
On the way back down, we were feeling very hot and sweaty, so we decided we ought to take a little dip in the water. We stripped down to our under-things and started to make our way in. The water was freezing. Ice cold. I had just my feet and ankles in, then Bjorn jumped in all the way. How bad is it? I asked. It’s COLD! He said. But you have to come in! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I screamed, and I jumped for it. When I came up for air, I was gasping. AAAAAA! SOOOO COOOOLD! I CAN’T TOUCH! BJORN, I CAN’T I CAN’T I CAN’T. I thought I was going to get myself under control and it would warm up, but suddenly, I actually couldn’t breathe. I was gasping. We got back over to the shore and everything was completely fine, but yikes! I’ve never actually gotten in water so cold it literally took my breath away.
I put my clothes back on pretty quickly, and it’s a good thing, because probably thirty seconds after I finished dressing, a huge group of school children came bounding over the hill. Ha!
What a day it was! I don’t know if we were both in great moods and anything would’ve been great fun, but it was just such a nice, free, unplanned day. And while many people might find nothing to do in a place like Akaroa, Bjorn and I have been very good at exploring all the nooks and crannies around the bay area.
I like Bjorn because he brings out this part of me that I lost years and years ago. I remember myself as a fearless child, wanting to go out and get dirty, pick up frogs, have mud fights. But I went to college and life became a party, I went to New York and life became trendy, and I lost the part of me that loves to go out exploring and playing and not caring about getting dirty or being seen acting foolish. I love that part of me, and I’m glad to have found it again.
So! Time in Akaroa is running out, believe it or not. In less than two weeks, the family arrives, and by the time they leave on January 5th, we’ll only have three and a half weeks left here. And that’s fine with us, I think. The travel bug is itching both of us pretty badly. We can’t wait to get back out there!
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