Family Vacation: Begin

The fam has landed, ready to take New Zealand on by storm!

Well, maybe not quite by storm yet, seeing as they almost fell asleep into the AWESOME lasagna my flatmates and I cooked for them (which was super amazing, did I mention that already?) but close enough. They are now sleeping off the jet lag, as instructed by their new beautiful tour guide, to prepare for a busy busy day of gardens, chocolate factories, and penguins tomorrow!

Let the family adventures begin!

Cheers!

The Catlins

The Catlins area is almost the furthest south you can go without falling off the edge of the earth. Located at the absolute bottom of the South Island full of beautiful rugged and above all isolated terrain, a few friends and I went for an overnight in this "hidden gem" of the South Island.

It took awhile for me to shake off the feeling during the beginning of our trip that I was in a horror film--all of our mobiles blinked no service as soon as we entered the Catlins. I could hear the tense music start to build as we wound our way through dirt roads, passing seemingly deserted towns and arrived at a huge empty backpacker's with a slightly unnerving owner (he was nice, a little too nice, duhn duhn duhn!). But, no horror stories to tell here, we made it out alive, and happy.

Our main goal of the trip was to see some serious New Zealand wildlife. The Catlins is home to some of the rarest species in the world, including the Hooker's Sea Lion (which we SAW), the Yellow Eyed Penguin and Hector's Dolphin (which we didn't see, although we went to their homes, they were out snacking in the ocean I think), and of course lots of birds and trees and pretty but not as interesting as HUGE SEA LION sorts of things.

The high point of the journey for me (besides making an appearance at the local pub where the entire farming population of Owaka was present and staring as soon as we entered, or stuffing 4 people into a 2 person tent, or the many waterfalls and sea lions we saw, or bush treks we conquered) was our horse trek!!! We stopped off at Ta Taunga Adventures for a 2 hour guided trek before we left the Catlins. Upon arrival we were each matched with horses, well, except for my very small Texan friend who was paired with a pony, much to our amusement. Our ride started through rolling farmland. We herded around cattle and calves, and terrified hordes of sheep as we rode over the organic farm and learned some of the history of the area. There was a slight scare as we plodded out onto the road, and a dirtbike charged past, it added some fast paced excitement to the ride. Once through the road, we climbed our way down onto the beach, the horses slowing as their heavy hooves sank into the sand. It was beautiful splashing through the beach, admiring the waves charge into the bay.

My horse, Racey (Racie? Raceigh? Who knows...) was a bit lazy, and we had a couple close calls on our ride. He was old and would try to walk right behind one of the other horses, with his head resting on their butt, and then fall asleep. To him, this was a flawless idea, because he didn't have to think or look where he was going, and I applaud him for his laziness. However, for me, this meant that I was sent jolting forward every so often as he tripped over something and almost fell. We battled it out a few times for control of where he would walk, I won.

After riding along the beach, we circled back to the farm, this time taking a different way back. Our horses huffed and puffed up an extremely steep hill that we had to zig zag our way up in order to make it. I felt slightly guilty as our horses necks started to darken with sweat, and their breathing get heavier and heavier, but not guilty enough to walk up it myself, that thing was a killer! The view from the top was beautiful. It felt as though we were walking right along the clouds as we looked over the Catlins--farm hills bubbled up from the landscape, misty clouds sank down onto trees, beaches circled houses as the tide crept in. All in all the ride was amazing, and well worth the sore butt I nursed for the next few days.

Less than a week until the Lund family storms New Zealand!!!! Woohoo!!!!

Cheers!

A Message from Wendy

Happy Halloween!

From Peter Pan, Wendy, Tinkerbell, the Crocodile, and HOOK! (Not pictured: Lost Boy 1, 2, & 3, and Tiger Lily.

In a far far away land where one is likely to see students dashing around madly dressed up like bunnies, sheep, cowboys, gladiators, 80s pop stars, and well you get the picture, on a regular basis (seriously, hardly a DAY goes by without some crazy guy running in front of the flat rolling a tire dressed up as one of the Village People) I was slightly shocked at how small the Kiwi Halloween celebration is. They virtually don't celebrate it.

But, with a little pixie dust, Peter Pan and friends and nemesis managed to seek out those few die-hards (mostly other internationals) who would not allow the Kiwi apathy toward Halloween stand any longer. As with most Halloweens I've noticed since I've began to "grow up," the skirts continue to get shorter, and most costumes comprise of more nothing than something.

But all in all, a fun time was had. Although I did spend a hefty portion of the night comforting my friend who realized this was one of our last nights together and proceeded to shed some crocodile tears...It's a strange feeling knowing that the people who I've gotten to know so well (and are really the only tangible people I've got right now since I moved halfway around the world away from everyone and everything familiar) will be gone in a few weeks. The reality is setting in, and I'll miss them. It's a conflict of emotion knowing how excited I am to have my family come visit and then go home with them, but at the same time feeling a twinge of sadness to leave. No time to think about that now, I've got three finals to go in the next 2 weeks, and little studying so far to assist me with that...Goodbye internet for awhile (I'm so optimistic about my abilities to avoid distraction, aren't I?).

Hope everyone has a fun snowfall-free Halloween,

Cheers!

Lazy Sunday

I'm not sure about you, but I do some of my absolute BEST procrastinating during this time of the school year. Wonderful things happen--enter--the Lazy Sunday.

This past weekend my flatmates and I did possibly the cutest thing we've done all year, we went out for Sunday brunch together. What started out as an innocent brunch/minor procrastination tactic spurred into an entire day of adventure and, of course, avoiding the fact that we were all supposed to be stuck in desks on the top floor of the library studying.

First of all, brunch was AMAZING. We went to this place called the Croq-O-Dile Cafe. It sits right in the middle of the botanic gardens a few blocks from our flat. Every time we walk to the grocery (at least a few times a week) one of us always points to the cafe insisting (more or less) that (insert classical music and warm tropical breeze) someday we will perch on that quaint balcony, overlooking the gardens as we sip on espressos behind owl-shaped sunglasses, chatting in our Kiwi accents.

That day finally came, and boy am I glad it did. I indulged in a marvelous caffeinated beverage and the Crepe Croq-o-dile--filled with cherries, chocolate, sour cream, and sugary goodness. Although, I do have to admit that I always seem to have magical experiences with crepes--it sort of comes with the package of being a thin folded pancake with sweets slopped inside I suppose.

After brunch we took what was supposed to be a short stroll through the lower gardens. We're not great at forecasting the future, because we ended up hiking up the entire hill to the aviaries, where I got way too bird happy and took way way too many pictures of New Zealand (and other cool but not as cool as the New Zealand) birds. The sound that the New Zealand birds make is unlike ANYthing you've EVER heard (do I sound like an infomercial for NZ, 'cause I'm tryin!). They can make some of the wildest sounds--you'd think you were listening to an old cartoon. You know the ones with the crazy sound effects that whistle and slide while poor Wiley Coyote races and smacks into the side of the mountain before inevitably freefalling down a canyon and then boinking up and down on cracked desert ground or something? It's like that. Except cooler, because it's real!

Once my eyes were about to explode after too much bird colour exposure, we attempted to make our way down the hill, but ultimately got a bit turned around in the winding gardens. We get lost often though, so we weren't really phased, just enjoyed the views and the flowers. Once again I took way too many pictures. What is it about being in a new place and seeing trees or flowers and feeling as though you've never seen anything quite like it before? I was taking a million pictures from every angle of this "New Zealand Tree"--you'd think I'd never seen a tree before! At home I don't start yelling on the top of hills because I saw an extremely vivid red flower, and I certainly don't whip the camera out to take pictures of the trees in the Potlatch forest. Regardless, I fall into a shutter frenzy every time something semi-pretty crosses my path in New Zealand. I guess being somewhere different makes everything, and I mean everything, seem exotic. I almost took a picture of the freshly mowed grass here yesterday. That's right, the GRASS. It's just so greeeeen, I kept telling myself. Then I stopped and thought about it a bit and realized, wait a minute, we have green grass in Minnesota too...Maybe I'm just losing it, who knows.

Anywho, back to the Sunday. Deciding that we hadn't done quite enough procrastinating for one day, we managed to hitch a ride with a friend out to St. Clair Beach--renowned in Dunedin for its surf-worthy waves. We watched a few surfers and played a never-ending (because no score was kept thank goodness) game of beach volleyball with some AMAZING volleyball players! Get this--they were ALL guys!! I was shocked. Granted, of course they did all kinds of illegal moves (typical guys), but some of them were just awesome. It's not what I'm used to being surrounded by powerhouse girls I'm always trying to keep up with in the Cloquet area. There was some serious vball being played and I felt super rusty trying to keep up...with BOYS. Embarassing. Maybe they have more guy vball teams here than in Cloquet...I'm going to keep reassuring myself with that thought.

After over an hour of volleying, I carefully and methodically dipped my toes in the ocean, only to have it later splashed onto my face...(ahem thanks a lot Dan!) It was...cold. Basically, it was Lake Superior except more salty and probably a little less cold because I didn't feel as though knives were stabbing and twisting into my feet before they went numb.

Overall, it was a great Sunday, finished off with a nice trip to Pak-N-Save--the NZ equivalent to a Super Walmart except with just food and not all marketing-prettied up. It had a big warehouse feel to it, and was supposed to be cheaper than the other groceries, but I bought so much I couldn't really tell... Those warehouse chains can trap me even when I'm halfway around the world apparently.

The countdown has commenced, I will be back on American soil (fingers crossed--I haven't had the best of luck here) in 26 days!

Cheers!

Sun Sun Sun

Nelson is known as the official sunniest city in New Zealand. Feeling as though we needed to experience this sun after far too many gloomy cloud covered days in Dunedin, a few friends and I decided to take a road trip. We were lucky enough to be accompanied by Gayla, a Canadian whose family moved to NZ a few years back and live in Nelson. She wanted to surprise them by visiting, and so we ended up surprising her family with not only a visit from their lovely daughter, but 4 other stranded visitors as well. They graciously welcomed us with open arms, plates of delicious food, and comfy beds. We are so grateful to them for letting us stay last minute, they were the best!

Our trip began with an, umm, short, 9 hour drive. We went up along the east coast of the South Island, and then took a shortcut through the Southern Alps by way of Lewis Pass. When we arrived in Nelson, the Mask Parade had just finished, so we missed the parades of people in costumes, artsy masks, and concerts, but we were just in time to see the remnants of what looked to have been an extremely fun night...

These are a few pictures of the drive there. We kept seeing these fields of yellow flowers, and of course fields of sheep. In the land of 44 million sheep, it was difficult not to pass sheep farms every few miles, or kilometers I should say I suppose.
The morning after our first night in Nelson, we stopped at the Nelson market. It was filled with local artists boasting all sorts of handmade crafts. We were in a hurry to make it to kayaking, so I had to be extra decisive, and probably bought way too much.
Following the market, we rushed to sea kayaking, after having gotten lost looking for a Petrol station. Fortunately they hadn't left without us, although the coordinator of the Kayaking trips yelled at us quite a bit, and even had the gall to say we were lieing about getting lost... She certainly managed to ruin the beginning of our kayaking, but once we were out on the water with our guide, far away from her burning glares, things looked up again. The water was a bit choppy, a storm was coming in later, but it made for some roller coaster waves. We kayaked through caves, around rocks, and even saw some wild seals out sunning! My eyebrows were crusted in salt by the end of the trip, and my arms were incredibly sore, but it was really fun.


The next day, we drove out to Golden Bay, westward along the Northern coast of the South Island, to go Horseback riding on the beaches there. The drive was slightly terrifying, as it started pouring rain as soon as we entered the winding mountain roads. I'm not going to lie and say we didn't have a few near death experiences involving hairpin turns, hydroplaning, and head-on almost collisions during the long hours of driving in the weekend, but I won't give you any details either. My mom's worrying heart won't be able to handle it... Once we arrived in Golden Bay, the coordinator for the horseback riding informed us that she wouldn't take us out on the beach because of the weather. After we had driven hours and risked our lives for that beach ride, we were pretty upset. So we went exploring on a few beaches by foot, then stopped at a chocolate shop and the Mussel Inn to eat our sorrows away.

Another stop we made was at the Pupu springs, supposedly home to the clearest water in the world. They had set up mirrors above the water so you could see all the way through into the bottom of the springs.

Once we got back to Nelson city, we took a hike up a very steep tall hill to the geographic centre of New Zealand, there was a large needle at the top pointing to the exact centre. The view of Nelson was spectacular.

On our way back to Dunedin the next day, we stopped at the Marina where Gayla's family keeps their sailboat. Originally from Canada, they decided they were ready for a change awhile back and so up and moved to New Zealand to sail around the Pacific Islands for 3 years. So adventurous!
The drive back was complete with crazy NZ weather. It rained, then it snowed, then it hailed, then it was extremely windy, then it was sunny.

Here is the snow from when we drove through Lewis Pass. It was rather scary, especially since my flatmate Arely (from Texas) who was driving at the time, informed us that she had never driven when it was snowing before...but she made a Minnesotan proud!
After about 11 hours (it took us longer the way back because of the snow) we were back in Dunedin. I'm not sure if I would take such a short trip with such a long drive again, but I really loved Nelson. The city has a certain charm about it.

Cheers!

Butterfly Flower

This last week and the next few weeks are stress-filled. I only have one day left of classes (hoorayy!) but just around the river bend is a whole month of finals. Despite this impending doom, I have been rather unmotivated lately. I've got a pretty bad case of the end of semester lazies.

This all changed in the morning when I did something rather unheard of in the last week (or ever really, let's be honest).

I woke up before 10 VOLUNTARILY.

I have to say, it was worth it. I went with a few others to the "Butterfly Release" at the museum here in Dunedin. At 10:30 they release young butterflies for their very first flight after their transformation! They were released into the Tropical Forest section of the museum, rightly named as it is kept at a toasty 23.6 degrees Celsius or maybe it was 26.3, I don't remember, Celsius confuses me. Anyway the Tropical Forest came complete with waterfall and periodic thunder storms to keep the humidity high and the Kelseys sweating. It was faintly reminiscent of the weather in Thailand, well, except in Thailand I avoided close contact with pretty green areas where I was sure to be attacked by a 10 foot snake hungry for my blood. Multiple levels of stairs, a swing bridge, Koi pond, huge rainforesty trees and plants, bright flowers, birds, and geckos created this beautiful, hot, pseudo tropical realm.

Once the butterflies are released, a lot of them are quite sleepy. I can imagine, they've been through a lot! For some reason, I looked like a comfy resting place. I had butterflies on my hands, my foot, my back, my chest, even my hair a few times. It's a good thing I'm not that ticklish. Initially shocked at the butterflies' attraction to me (they weren't as friendly with the others) I quickly solved the mystery--I told you I'm basically Harriet the Spy. That morning in my half-asleep zombie routine, I had dabbed on some perfume from Bath & Body called "Butterfly Flower"--now that is truth in marketing! I'm going to look up online what other scents they have over at Bath & Body, because if they have something along the lines of "Aced Final" perfume, I'm overnighting it.

Overall, it was such a fun experience, I almost want to wake up at 9 tomorrow and go back! Then again, I'm pretty sleepy...

Cheers!

Goodbye Charlie

It was a sticky summer day. Someone had left the gate in front of our house partially unlatched. That was all the encouragement he needed.

Soon a white blur was seen terrorizing through the neighborhood--chasing squirrels, barking at robins, blazing through mud and burs not thinking about the bath he was securing for later. I called, I yelled, I screeched, I attempted a meager whistle, but nothing could stop him when he got into one of his wild n' free states. I was chasing him up and down the steep hills leading to the golf course. He was leaping over yards as if they were puddles, speeding through gardens, knocking over flower pots on his way.

My dad caught up with us as we were circling an old brick building sticking out from the forrest. Soon Charlie was racing through dense Pine trees, bounding through piles of needles and leaves. My dad managed to cut him off on one side of a hill. He turned. There I was.

It was a face off.

Only ten feet stood between me and my dog who wasn't quite trained enough to be left with unlatched gates. Suddenly, as if inspired by Charlie's own running and leaping skills, I dove. Arms outstretched, flying through the air, I straight up tackled that dang dog. He of course, thought this was great fun and proceeded to lick my face off.

Just a week ago, Charlie went for one last freedom run. I'm sure he ran through yards and knocked over flowerpots, chased squirrels into trees and barked wildly beneath the taunting robins. He said goodbye to the burs and the mud puddles, to the neighbors yelling at him as he ran through their gardens, to the wildlife that would learn to miss the excitement he had provided them. Although I wasn't there to tackle him, Charlie had since learned how to come home after being left with unlatched gates. He came home that evening after saying goodbye to the running adventures he lived for.

A week later, his cancer made it impossible for him to live the active life he loved. After only 8 years of being my favorite dog in the world, Charlie left it.

Cheers to my speedy dog who will be greatly missed.

Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!

It seems the Minnesota weather has followed me cross hemispheres.

It snowed today on a blustery September day (like April-May snow in MN). Although it rarely snows in Dunedin, and most of the snow was in fact hail that melted approximately ten minutes after it fell, I still couldn't help immediately feeling a surge of delight.

I rushed to put on my boots, grabbed my camera, ran into the streets, threw open my arms under the gentle tingle of small hail/snow and yelled, "I'M HOME!"

I could feel my wintery Nordic ancestors speaking, their windy words echoing down to the depths of my soul. It was clear as the cold ice chunks being flung in my face.

Kelsey! You need to bake something, Ya!

According to my flatmates, I'm a true Midwesterner.

So after throwing on a nice thick Christmas sweater, turning on the Holiday tunes, and preheating the oven, I proceeded to bake sugar cookies. They weren't close to living up to my grandma's delicious ones (I've come to realize that no food ever comes close to my parent's/grandma's cooking, which I make sure to tell everyone I have a culinary conversation with), and we were in short supply of sprinkles and cookie cutters. But I worked with what I had, and managed to improvise a few nice snowmen and snowwomen.

Here are a few pictures of the lovely weather and subsequent cookies, enjoy. Cheers!

A snow family!

Our snowwoman!!

My cold flatmates!

Our very snowy frontyard

Cup o' Tea

I have found that my fellow kiwis and I have heaps in common. We watch similar American television shows, we enjoy common forms of socializing, we like to eat chocolate and pizza (separately, although now that I say it, a chocolate pizza sounds delicious!), and so on. However, I am still confronted with instances where I feel completely and utterly "different" than my New Zealand counterparts, due to a lack of shared experiences. One such example of this gap occurred in my Maori class just the other day when a guest lecturer came to speak to us about traditional Maori attitudes to land. He was attempting to stimulate our understanding by connecting examples from our assumed everyday lives to some of the land concepts. But you know what happens when you assume...

His example was this,

"Do you remember when you were younger, and every day you would run home for afternoon tea? Sometimes you would bring your mates home, and someone else might bring their mates home as well. So the mums were never quite sure how many people would show up, and would worry about if everyone would get an equal share of the pie. That is why mums use a circular dish instead of a box, so everyone would get a bit of the juicy and a bit of the crust--exactly like the Polynesian philosophy of land division!"

He lost me at afternoon tea.

Then he lost me further when I thought about all those poor mums slaving over hot New Zealand ovens every single day baking huge pies for children who might not even show up, or worse, bring a bunch of their uninvited piggy "mates" to devour the object of her kindness and then be ungrateful if there wasn't enough good bits of pie!!

Ignoring my inherent womanly need to sympathize with the mothers for the moment, the concept of land division to reflect equal division of resources was not hard to grasp, nor was the concept that pies should be made in circular tins instead of boxes so that everyone has the same type of slice.

But I still left class examining the other students in awe. In my mind I saw them all dressed in Victorian garb, running in their little knickers and shiny shoes home to large apron-wearing "mums" who sat them down while they sipped tea with outstretched pinkies and nibbled on sandwiches far too small to ever appease my appetite. It seemed to me as though we were a completely different people--they were the kind who drank afternoon tea every day and I was from the type who as a child ran home to watch Arthur every afternoon. It was perplexing.

While I have since come to realize that of course there are more than the afternoon tea and non afternoon tea types of people in this world, I still find the lack of perceivably common ground that is present here interesting. New Zealand may be quite Americanized in its outpouring of pop culture, but at its heart it maintains a vibrant unique New Zealander-British-Maori mix of cultures that leaves much to be newly experienced for a person from any background.

Cheers!

Loopy Lingo

It's mid-September...which means my trip is officially half over.

Where has all the time gone?

I'll tell you where. All the time has gone into me being stumped by mumbling Kiwis and crazy slang.

But no longer. You see, today I actually thought to myself as I was watching some wild New Zealand television, "that ad was brilliant." Now to you this may seem minuscule, in fact you may be wondering what the point is. However, if you traveled back in time half of my stay ago, you would notice my thoughts to be thinking, "that commercial was cool," or even more likely, "are they really allowed to say that on network television??"

It's all adding up now, I have successful infiltrated the Kiwi dialect, no longer held back by an inability to translate the mumbles and bumbles of Kiwi jargon, I am one step closer to my ultimate goal of dual assimilation, only to follow by perhaps world domination, although those plans are still in process.

I feel my only duty now can be to teach the masses of the world who end every night with long desperate prayers to the heavens that someday somehow they will learn how to speak like Kiwis. Your prayers have been answered. I'm here to help.

Let's start with the accent and tone--the most difficult and easiest areas to master. Forget everything you've learned about annunciation. Kiwis never learned how. Close your mouth. Now speak. Don't open it though, keep it closed. Congratulations, you've just mastered the New Zealander mumble. Moving on.

Let's have a go with the accent now. A cross between Australian and British, the New Zealander accent is perhaps one of the most difficult to master. Why you ask? I'll tell you why, thanks for asking by the way. Because if you try to say a phrase like "G'day mate" in the accent you're used to hearing it in, you will ultimately sound like an Aussie and be brutally ridiculed and highly offensive to any Kiwi who is unlucky enough to hear you. The line between Australian and Kiwi is not a line, it is a high barbed wire electric fence with murderous guard dogs and snipers sporting those heat sensitive goggles that only super secretive agents can sneak through. To cross the two is to commit a heinous crime, and should not be done, or you may lose the power of speech altogether. That said, it is also extremely difficult to actually make yourself speak an accent that is not Australian when you attempt Kiwi (unless you are a Kiwi of course or an Aussie) but it is vital to your very soul that you do not mix the two. Keep that in mind when it comes to pronunciation time. Which is now.

The main thing with pronunciation, like most languages, is getting your vowels down. Most i's will be pronounced like u's, and e's will be so long you'll wonder when they will ever stop. For example, one of my favorite words, chocolate is pronounced like choc oh lut. The word milk is pronounced like mu-ell-k and the word yes is pronounced like yee-s, the city Wellington is pronounced Wullington. Put it in a sentence: Yes, I'll have your Wellington chocolate milk. Yees, Uh'll hu-v yur Wullington choc-oh-lut mu-ellk.

Now when it comes to consonants, think lazy mumbling again. Those on the end of words are usually completely left off. Instead of "but" say buh, instead of "school" say schoo-w. Put it in a sentence: But I don't want to go to school. Buh Ah don't wunt to g-uh to schoo-w.

Got it yet? Keep practicing.

Now to my favorite, and at times most mind boggling dialectal lesson: Vocabulary. I'll dive right in. The scene: your friend stops by your place on a warm sunny Friday evening. He has a proposition for you. Now decipher.

"Kia Ora bro!

Are you keen for a wee brekkie out on the barbie tomorrow? I've stuck heaps of bangers and bickies in the chilly bin out in the boot and I'm on my way to top up the petrol so we can take a drive out to that beaut spot near the bush. We can even stop at that one dairy afterward and pick up the lollies we liked, they were sweet as, eh? I'll ring my mates from Uni too. But I've got to run to the chemist's now, I'm a bit crook at the moment. Cheers!"

Having trouble? American-English equivalent.

"Hey man!

Do you want to have a barbecue for breakfast tomorrow? I put tons of sausages and biscuits in the cooler in the trunk and I'm on my way to fill up on gas so we can take a drive out to that awesome spot near the Native New Zealand Forest. We can even stop at that one cornerstore afterward and pick up the candy we like, they were awesome, don't you agree with this statement I'm currently making? I'll call my friends from school too. But I've got to scoot over to the drugstore now, feeling a bit under the weather currently. Laterz!"

How'd you do?

Really?

Sweet as bro, so proud. You did so well, I think a pop quiz is in order, the results can live as proof of your mastered Kiwi dialect for eternity...

Situation 1: Your friend leans on your shoulder, eyes droopy and lets out the phrase..."I'm knackered!"

Does this mean.

A. I am quite drunk.

B. I am quite sleepy.

C. I am quietly craving to go buy some knick knacks to clutter my shelves.

Situation 2: Your other friend leans on your other shoulder, and quietly reminds you about the gathering you're invited to that night. I say quietly because the other shoulder inhabiting friend isn't invited, she's too knackered. Anyways, this friend whispers: "Don't forget to bring the Jerseys we bought tonight!"

Does this mean.

A. Don't forget to bring the sports memorabilia purchased with your friend, so you must be going to some sort of Rugby match.

B. Don't forget to bring your sweatshirts purchased with your friend, so you must be staying inside the freezing flat tonight.

C. Don't forget to bring the entirety of Jersey Shore Season 1 with you tonight, enough said.

Situation 3: You're at the pub watching a Rugby game with aforementioned shoulder slouching friend. You have no idea what's going on in the game, so you decide to be nice and shout a round of handles...otherwise known as buying the next round of drinks on tap that come in mugs (Bet you thought I was going to test you on that, gotcha!). As you are away, everyone starts yelling. You turn around to see one of the players being "sin-binned."

Does this mean.

A. A player has just been discovered to have broken one of the Ten Commandments and is being shamed in front of the entire stadium by a group of nuns.

B. A player has fouled another and put in a penalty box for a few minutes.

C. A nerdy player has been thrown in a dumpster by some of the more popular players.

Test over. The answers were all B. Congratulations, you aced it!

You are now a Kiwi pro. No need to get a visa when you come visit me, you'll be able to fool immigration into believing you are a native with the knowledge you've acquired. Don't forget to invite the customs officer over for brekkie sometime!

Cheers!

Wild Wild West

Before I go into my Spring Break, I feel the need to retract my previous post on the whole Mom Approved: New Zealand business. Upon further consideration (ie the 7.3 mag Earthquake that hit the South Island earlier this morning) I have decided (with the counsel of my wise and beautiful sister) that New Zealand may not be so Mom Approved after all. My street cred could be on the rise after all. In all seriousness, the earthquake that hit did not do much damage to the town I live in, other than the damage to my wee heart from being woken up at 4 AM by shaking walls and rattling drawers for about a minute--although my raging imagination managed to work in my favor for once to convince myself it was just a dream and fall right back asleep. No one has been reported hurt yet, the most damage (mostly to cars, roads, and occasional buildings) occurred in the Christchurch area (a few hours straight north) where we have a few friends. Please say your prayers that the toll will remain injury-free.

Now, back to business...I can now say that I have survived not only an earthquake, but a cross country road trip! Barely. For 6 days, me, my two international flatmates from the States, another international student from France, and Dan--the lone Kiwi male who somehow was hypnotized into wanting to spend 6 straight days with 4 crazy girls, squished into a car and piled our belongings so high you could barely see out of any of the windows as we travelled the West Coast of the South Island. I outlined our trip in Purple on this tiny tiny map of the South Island--starting in the bottom right orange star in Dunedin, then up and over to the next orange star--Greymouth, below that is Franz Josef, and the bottom left orange star is Queenstown.

Day 1:

We left at 8 AM on a cloudy Saturday Morning, ready for a week of some serious travelling. Ok, we didn't leave at 8 AM, but we tried. We ended up leaving at about 9:30 I think, which is pretty good--at least we were within 2 hours of our time frame! Our goal was to make it up about half of the South Island and then completely across to the Western Coastline (see above map), passing through the Alps on our way. Normally this is about an 8-10 hour drive, even with stops we managed to make it in about 8, we have a speedy French woman to thank for that....

Our first stop was the Moeraki Boulders--home to the fascinating naturally circular rocks. I managed to scale one, and I have the battle scars to prove it. I'm all smiles here, but when I soon put my thumbs away and look at my bloody pinkie, not so much.

Next came Arthur's Pass, the daunting trek through winding roads barely contained from the steep incline of the mountain, made even more exciting by Mother Nature's onslaught of pouring rain and raging winds. Caution: driving across the South Island is not for the faint of heart nor weak of stomach.

The Weather changed almost instantly a few times up in the mountains, luckily (sarcasm) we handed the wheel over to our French Friend as she said she had mountain driving experience. Apparent English Translation: She can floor the gas pedal through mountain passes as we in the backseat appear to be headbanging in terror as we are thrown around the car waiting for the doors to give way under our incessant crashing into them and the inevitable plunge off of the mountain side. After some severe whiplash where we almost died the 200th time, the clouds thought it would be really funny to terrify us even more by completely dumping the roads with rain, and she slowed (sort of). We survived, somehow.

Day 2:

The Second day was filled with one of my favourite things to do, walk. Now, if you know me, you know I actually am not usually a big fan of walking. I don't dislike it as much as running, but still, if you ask me whether I'd rather bike or walk, it'd be bike; drive or walk, it'd be drive; segway or walk, it'd definitely be segway; ride a sea turtle or walk--I'd be jumping on that turtle... However, it turns out, when I have some beautiful jungles and beaches to admire, I like walking for the first few hours, after which I admit I sort of just got bored. We started out our walking by stopping at one of the gazillion beaches dotting the West Coast to check out the view.

Next, we walked to go look at more rocks. If you think you are having deja vu, don't worry about it, you are. We made quite a few detours to look at New Zealand rocks; don't write it off yet, they're pretty interesting. Anyway, like I was saying, we walked through the "Pancake Rocks" where the rocks have formed to look like stacks of pancakes, and so came to be called "The Pancake Rocks." Straight to the point, just how I like it.

After our second rock-sight-seeing of the trip, we did a "short" lively 4 hour tramp through the New Zealand Rainforest/Jungle/Jurassic Park. No dinosaurs spotted, only prehistoric birds and the faint sensation of being tracked by a pack of Velociraptors.

To top off the evening, we were taken through a short tour of the Monteith's Brewery in Greymouth (where our backpacker's hostel was located). The tour was, interesting... actually to be honest it was pretty boring, the tour site was more like a garage with some scary looking machinery than a brewery, and our guide wasn't really a people person. But afterwards, we tried all the different brews (not my cup of tea err beer, but the apple cider was delicious!!) and even got to pretend to be bartenders and pour a few of our own.

Day 3:

Our third day, we wandered off the beaten treks to a little known spot hidden behind acres of farm land and sheep. We were searching for Natural Hot Pools in the bed of sand surrounding an eroded river bank. Although we did not find any large ones, and didn't have any shovels to dig them out if we had, we managed to find a few smaller ones to soak our feet in.

Our next stop was at the "Roadkill Cafe"--I did not partake of the "Bambi Burger" nor the "Roadkill Toasted Sandwiches," I just observed the eatings from afar.

Afterwards we rushed to our Kiwi Stalking appointment. Yes, you read that correctly, we went Kiwi stalking. Turns out even though Kiwis are only found in New Zealand, they're pretty near impossible to see up close in the wild, and that was our mission, to get close to a wild Kiwi. We succeeded. After running out in the woods to make it to a spot before dusk (Kiwis are nocturnal) we sat/stood for about 45 minutes as it got dark outside a Kiwi den (our guide had a red light to shine on the Kiwi so we could see her without her seeing us). Sure enough, the Momma Kiwi came out, got a whiff of us with her long beak pointed to the sky, and waddled into the bushes. We spent the next few hours stalking her and some of the other Kiwi, but only managed to hear their terifying Angry Cat Screeches as they warned us we were in their territory, and get scared by rustling possums. Although it was freezing cold, and after a few hours the tip toeing in mud got a bit overrated, looking up at the night sky was enough to distract me from this for the few hours. I have never seen so many stars in my life. They were twinkling so much I thought I'd have a seizure. It was absolutely breathtaking.

(The only Kiwis I was allowed to take pictures of--our Kiwi guide, and Kiwi friend leading the group into the Wild Unknown before the Sun went down)

Day 4:

Seeing as we had spent a whole day without looking at rocks, the next day we travelled to the Franz Josef glacier to walk across a desert of rocks (where the glacier used to extend but retreated, leaving behind a bed of rocks that won't grow vegetation for a long time). The glacier was not what I expected. It was icy--that I expected--but it was spring ice, very dirty and really unstable looking. There are tours available to hike the glaciers, but our wallets weren't thick enough to indulge in that danger.

My own tour of the glacier. I'm charging $200 a head to take groups onto this wee glacier for about 30 seconds. I think it'll be a profitable business venture.

One of the many many waterfalls dotting the landscape, complete with rainbow, pot of gold is not included.

The Kea-- aka Forest Parrot who rips the roofs off of cars, just for fun--they weren't hugged enough when they were little I think.

Day 5:

On our last full day of Road Trippin' we drove about 4 hours down to Queenstown--otherwise known as the adventure capital of the world, where the first Commercial Bungee Jump originates (Bungee Jumping in general originates from a tribal rite of passage for boys to enter "manhood," in case you were curious). On our way we stopped at another glacier--Fox Glacier.

Afterwards, we went Penguin Stalking to a beach where supposedly New Zealand Native Yellow Eyed Penguins make their homes. Unfortunately, the Penguins were off catching their lunch, but I did spot a baby fern!! In Maori, the symbol of the curl of the fern symbolizes a new beginning, and is often depicted in Maori artwork.

Of course, because we were taking to the winding roads again, it downpoured.

Queenstown! And more importantly CookieTime--a locally owned Kiwi chain dedicated to the happiness of humanity achieved through the selling of delicious chocolate chip (among others) cookies.

Queenstown at night

Day 6:

For our final day, while my companions risked their lives and spent their moneys jumping off of ledges tied to a measly rope, I walked around Queenstown and enjoyed some gourmet chocolates and freedom.

Goodbye Queenstown!

All in all, we had a wonderful trip. We made it safely to all of our destinations, had a lot of fun, and none of us wanted to kill the other one, yet. Perhaps my luck is on the rise along with my street cred? Only time will tell. Happy New Zealand Father's Day!!

Cheers!