A few words.

Since I’m behind with all this blogging, I’m not going to go day-by-day and bore you to death. I will only tell you the good things. That being said, this needs to be shared:

First of all, the bucket fountain on Cuba Mall has been dismantled. Sad face!

Secondly, on Friday of that next week (Oct. 10, if you need a date), I was walking down Courtenay Place in search of sunscreen and toilet paper, when I noticed an odd sight coming towards me on the sidewalk. Now, remember, this is Courtenay Place, possibly one of the busiest streets in Wellington.

Walking down the sidewalk was a woman openly breastfeeding her baby. I’m not talking about discreetly breastfeeding, where the baby’s head and her boob were covered with a nice little blanket with bunnies on it. Oh no, everything was just hangin’ out, bouncing around as she strolled down the sidewalk. I wanted to do a double take, but really didn’t want to see it again.

Then again, I suppose there are stranger things to be seen in Wellington. Like Blanket Man. I haven’t mentioned him before, I’ve realized, and I have no idea why. He is worth mentioning. He’s a homeless man who, on a good day, sits on a corner of Courtenay Place (his favorite corners are the one outside of Burger King, and the one outside of the sports bar) wearing a loincloth and a blanket. The blanket sometimes varies in color, but there is always a blanket. He has matted dreadlocks, and not many teeth. I am not sure if he speaks English, though I assume he does.

Blanket Man is a bit of a celebrity here in Wellington. If you don’t believe me, Google him. Just type in “blanket man.” Dude’s even got his own Wikipedia entry.

Lastly, since this post has been nothing but random, I feel like I have to mention that I have been told at least three times now that I am not American. I’ve had a drunk guy argue with me that my “accent” is fake, an Israeli guy assume I was a kiwi, and a guy in Rotorua thinking I wasn’t American even though I was standing and talking next to Jamie at the time. What’s up with that? I know I still have a very strong American accent (probably made worse recently by hanging out with Jamie and her Cincy twang), but apparently it’s not strong enough? Haha, who knows. I just find it funny, especially since it exasperates Jamie so much.

Hoodoos! 'Nuff said.

Saturday, October 4
Wairarapa

We woke up early-ish to the sounds and smells of breakfast. The B&B owner, a tanned, white-haired man, was busy making us a fresh, hot breakfast. We ate in a window-laden dining room, joined by a few cats and a little terrier. I think it’s an unwritten rule that B&Bs have cute animals to entertain and charm the guests with.

The breakfast was delicious, and we chatted for a short time with the B&B owner about our studies and our travels. We told him we were headed out to the Putangirua Pinnacles that day, and he went to get us a book to show us what to expect. The Pinnacles are an example of “badlands erosion,” meaning that all the softer rock in an area has been eroded away, leaving the harder rock behind in interesting formations. In this particular case, the rock has formed into pillars, also called “hoodoos.” And if that’s not a fun word, I do not know what is.

After packing up and paying, we headed out to see the hoodoos. It was a little over an hour’s drive out to the Pinnacles, which are located southeast of Lake Ferry in the Putangirua Pinnacles Scenic Reserve (see, what did I tell you about those scenic reserves?). Saturday was cloudy, and a few raindrops dotted our windshield as we drove.

We arrived at the scenic reserve in the late morning, and headed off in search of the pinnacles. We hiked for about 15 minutes through a dry riverbed, over big, smooth rocks and patches of fine, cream-colored sand. We got our first glimpse of pinnacles not long after.

Finding thin fissures in the oddly-eroded rock (hoodoos!), Jamie and Andrea decided they wanted to climb up into them. I followed at first, but I didn’t trust the steep ground and loose boulders just waiting to come tumbling down the fissure. It didn’t help that a little boy was watching us, and looked really interested in following. I nearly smooshed him when I bumped a good-sized rock and sent it rolling.

I decided that, after a few photos, I would get out of the way of falling rocks, should Jamie and Andrea send them falling. They were much higher up in the fissure than I was.

I climbed down, and headed for another set of hoodoos (seriously, how great is this word?) on the opposite side of the riverbed. These ones were much more pronounced, and looked a lot cooler. Andrea and Jamie eventually followed, and we climbed up the steep hill to get closer to the pinnacles. You could tell by the smooth, haphazardly-deposited rocks that this hill – the whole area, really – probably floods like mad when it rains. All I could think about was Bear from Man vs. Wild talking about flash floods, and how dangerous they could be. I kept my eye on those rain clouds.

After climbing up as far as our tired legs would allow, we headed back down and decided to go further into the reserve. In the distance, we could see ever bigger pinnacles further up the riverbed.

The climb to the bigger hoodoos was on a much milder grade, but we still took it slow. Jamie took it upon herself to find a walking stick, and tramped partway up the long hill with a ridiculously large, bent stick. Andrea followed suit with a pathetically short, bendy stick. But Jamie, not to be outdone, foraged around in the riverbed and emerged with a small tree. And I don’t just mean a stick that could pass for a tree – I mean an actual small tree with branches and roots and everything. She proceeded to name it Tyrone, and drag it halfway up the hill only to “replant” it near the base of a pinnacle. I love her, I really do.

When we got up into the pinnacles, the wind died down, and it was dusty. And eerily quiet. I’ve read that they filmed bits of the Paths of the Dead scenes for The Lord of the Rings here, and I can definitely understand why. They pinnacles reach up hundreds of feet into the sky, like weird skeletal fingers. The only sound besides our footsteps was the clattering of small pebbles every time a light breeze worked its way up into the valley. Had it been a little darker, I would have definitely been a bit creeped out.

We walked around for a bit, then decided to head back. It had been a long morning/afternoon of hiking and climbing, and we wanted to get back into the car before the rain really started. We walked back down through the riverbed, the yellow flowers of the prickly gorse bushes standing out starkly after having been up in the towering grey pinnacles for so long.

Jamie stopped to take a drink out of the “river,” which, that day, was nothing more than a trickling stream. Andrea was mortified, and was convinced Jamie was going to die from a bacterial infection. I had a hunch that the water she was drinking was probably cleaner than anything that’s ever come out of any of our taps or water bottles, however. And, for the record Drebo, Jamie was fine.

We got back to the car and decided to make the drive out to Cape Palliser before heading back into civilization. Cape Palliser is… well, I’m not exactly sure why it’s so cool, but the B&B owner told us we should check it out. It has a lighthouse high up on an outcrop of rock that can only be reached by climbing some ridiculous number of stairs.

By the time we made our way there on a windy, narrow dirt road, however, the wind had picked up, the rain clouds had rolled in, and none of us felt like climbing up hundreds of stairs. So we simply turned around and headed back the other way.

We pointed the car in the direction of Featherston, and arrived with the rain. We fueled up the car, grabbed some linner (it was late afternoon, so technically it was both lunch and dinner), then headed back to Wellington. The storm was fairly strong, and made driving the Rimutaka road nerve-wracking. Jamie was going 40 kph, if that, and the traffic behind us wasn’t very happy. But, when you are approaching a curve and can see only a flimsy guardrail between you and the edge of a cliff and the wind is blowing so hard that you can literally see the sheets of rain being whipped across the narrow road, you’d drive that slow, too.

We made it safely back into the city, however, and navigated our way off the motorway with surprising ease. Jamie dropped Andrea and I off at our respective flats, then took the car back with her to Brooklyn, planning to return it the next morning.

After our eventful, adventurous weekend, my nice, soft bed never looked so inviting.

A happy, sandy birthday.

Friday, October 3
Wairarapa

For my birthday weekend, the girls and I decided we should plan something fun and get out of Wellington at least for a couple of days. We spent Thursday afternoon lining up a rental car and a bed and breakfast for the following night. The latter part of this was quite difficult, and we spent at least 4 hours researching and calling various B&Bs before we found one that looked nice and had a vacancy. We settled on Beatson’s B&B in Martinborough, in the heart of the Wairarapa region, where we planned to have our adventure.

On Friday morning, we picked up our rental car around 10, ready to head up north on a beautiful sunny morning. We were thwarted slightly in our plans, however, when I got behind the wheel and didn’t realize that the parking brake was still on. I never use it in the States, so it never occurred to me to check it. We subsequently drove up the motorway almost peeing ourselves with laughter as our white Mazda Familia made a horrible screeching sound with every turn of the wheels. To be fair, however, neither Jamie nor Andrea noticed the hand break on, either. Instead, we drove back to the rental place, only to be basically told we were morons. Yay driving!

Once we had collected ourselves, we got back on the motorway, destination Castlepoint. We stopped at Subway in Lower Hutt, and then drove straight on through. The drive took a little over two hours, with the beginning part of it consisting of weaving along the Rimutaka Road, a winding, nerve-wracking road that skirts the sides of the Rimutaka Ranges. The drive also consisted of Jamie shoving candied babies into my mouth on said winding road, and Andrea grossing Jamie out with a “chicken liver.” I think it was actually a burnt bit of cheese from Andrea’s sub, but Andrea had Jamie convinced it was something much more sinister. I threatened to throw them both out of the car at least once.

We arrived at Castlepoint in the early afternoon. Castlepoint isn’t so much a city, but rather a point of interest on the east coast of New Zealand. It’s a scenic reserve (though, in NZ, you can find those around every corner) that was named by Captain Cook way back when when he compared one of the cliffs to a castle. I’m not sure I could see it myself, but whatever.

Castlepoint is definitely worth a visit, and I’m really glad we went there. The area consists of a series of limestone cliffs that jut out into the sea, surrounded by an arm of reef and sand dunes. Where the reef cuts off the ocean, waves often breach it to form a lagoon between it and the dunes. On a sunny day like we had, it was really stunning.

But it was also very very windy. Hands down, Castlepoint is the windiest place I have ever visited, and that’s saying something coming from Ohio and, now, Wellington. As soon as we arrived and got out of the car, I regretted putting in a new pair of contacts that morning, knowing they were only going to get sand scratched.

Jamie and Andrea began our Castlepoint adventure by attempting to “surf” down the sand dunes using the floor mats from Shornty, our rental car. Needless to say, this was a bit of a bust. But at least it was funny to watch.

Next we headed off to explore the lagoon and reef. We had planned to walk along the reef between the cliffs and Castle Rock, but the wind was too strong, and all we were getting was a faceful of sand. So we decided to make for the cliffs, instead.

Not unlike in other countries I’ve visited, I’ve noticed that New Zealand isn’t really all that concerned with liability and people getting hurt. It’s probably because no one can sue each other here. But whatever the reason, it meant that us girls were pretty much free to do as we pleased on the cliffs. We climbed up, down, and all around the area, hanging over edges and shimmy-ing along ledges meters up in the air. But we had fun, and no one died, so I suppose it was well worth the risk.

We caught glimpses into some underwater caves, and even saw a lone fur seal lazily swimming along the bottom of the cliffs. On such a clear day, the water was an unreal shade of blue, broken up only by the foamy white-capped waves pushed along in front of the strong wind.

We spent hours hiking, climbing and sitting up in the cliffs, enjoying the surroundings and the beautiful day. Up away from the beach, we were safe from the blowing sand. Not from the wind by any means, though. When we walked up to the lighthouse, we understood why there was a fence on one side of the path as we were forced into it by a particularly nasty gust of wind.

After getting our fill of rock climbing and photos, we headed back to the car. It was at least an hour and a half to Martinborough from Castlepoint, and we wanted to try and get there well before sunset so that we could make it down to Lake Ferry.

Jamie drove us down to Martinborough, where we dropped our things off at our B&B before heading back out again. As we made our way through town, we found Ohio Street, and naturally stopped to take photos. We found out later from the owner of the B&B that a lot of the street names in Martinborough are of places the town’s founder had visited. Also included were Kansas, New York, Broadway (I think perhaps he was slightly confused there), along with some French towns.

We made our way down to Lake Ferry, about half an hour south of Martinborough along a scenic country road. We passed farms and wineries, and very few other cars. Andrea had been told by one of her Massey lecturers that Lake Ferry was famous for its sunsets and its fish and chips.

We had dinner at the Lake Ferry Hotel – basically the only multi-room building in Lake Ferry. We were a little late for sunset, but we caught a glimpse of it over the eerie white clouds that laid like a blanket over the Rimutakas in the distance. I had the Famous Ferry Fish and Chips, while Jamie and Andrea had garlic bread and soup (they don’t like seafood). For dessert, we ordered Mars Bars Cheesecake, which was possibly the most delicious thing I have ever tasted. Jamie paid for my meal as my birthday gift, and we headed back to the B&B to relax for the evening.

We watched a little TV, tried to brush and wash the sand out of our hair, and turned in early, preparing for another busy day on Saturday.

September, I'll remember.

Slight nod to Simon and Garfunkel there in the title. I love that song (“April Come She Will” for those who don’t know – you should have a listen).

September went out quite nicely, I must say, but I’ll only sum up the interesting bits for you:

Thursday, September 25:

Andrea, Jamie and I spent the afternoon booking yet more things for our South Island trip. This session included booking buses (like our day trip out to Milford Sounds), hostels, and other odds and ends. We’re almost there!

After a full afternoon of planning and money-spending, we decided to reward ourselves with dinner. Which, thinking back, was probably a bit incongruous. Oh well.

We decided on The Flying Burrito Brothers, which is a Mexican place on Cuba Street. I feel like it may well be one of the only Mexican places in Wellington. Perhaps even in New Zealand, who knows. Mexican food really isn’t that big over here. Possibly because there aren’t too many Mexicans…

Regardless, that’s where we went. The restaurant is kind of weird, because most of the tables are in the stone-walled basement of the building. It’s dark and candle-lit, and actually slightly difficult to read the menus. But the food made up for it. I got quesadillas, along with corn chips, salsa and sour cream. It was all delicious – and affordable, too.

Leaving, however, we got followed halfway up the stairs by one of the Mexican employees, who didn’t bother trying to hide the fact that he was watching our backsides as we went up. What a creeper. But at least we all had a good laugh.

Friday, September 26:

Friday was a busy, fun-filled day. I spent the afternoon shopping with Jamie and Andrea. The goal was to find Jamie a dress to wear that evening to The Sound of Music. She actually found it quite early in the excursion (a slick little black number), so we roamed around town for a while, finally ending up back at my place with some “juicy” Starburst Babies. These are perhaps even more disturbing than the regular Babies, because they are filled with goo that squirts out when you bite them. Classy.

We half-watched an episode of The Office as Jamie and I got ready for the evening. We bid Drebo farewell around 5:30, when we were set to meet Denise for dinner before the show.

Denise, Jamie and I grabbed dinner at Café Italiano, and then dessert at Kaffe Eis – the BEST gelato in Wellington. Then we made our way to the Opera House for the show.

The Sound of Music was very good. The show was pretty much just based around the music and songs, which was a-okay by me. Most of the singers were good, the Von Trapp family house set was awesome, and they didn’t leave a single song out. Some of the stand-outs for me were the adorable little girls who played Marta and Gretl, the little boy who played Kurt (that kid could SING!), Uncle Max because he was funny, the nun’s chorus that could sing some mean a cappella harmonies, and, of course, Maria. I give her credit for taking on the role – those are some big shoes to fill! But she did a fantastic job, hitting all those impossible notes of Julie Andrews’.

Did I mention how much I love The Sound of Music? Haha. I used to absolutely torture my family with it when I was younger.

After the show, we all took some photos, and Denise went back to her place. Jamie had planned to go back up to Brooklyn, but Greg didn’t feel like driving down to get here at 10:30, and no more buses were running up there at that time. So she just decided to stay with me.

I tortured her with the Season 5 premiere of Grey’s Anatomy. Torture because Jamie is very squeamish, and hates even the mention of blood. Which is unfortunate, because I think she’d really like the show if she could find the courage to watch it.

And, can I just add…. YAY for Derek and Meredith!

Saturday, September 27:

We had yet another Office marathon on Saturday, when we caught up through Season 4. Which was perfect timing, since Season 5 had started just two days earlier.

Jamie left in the evening because her Ohio roommate, Katie, was flying into Wellington that night. There was an issue with her flight from Fiji to Auckland, however, so Jamie had no idea what time she was actually going to get in.

That evening, Andrea came over, and we watched the first episode of Season 5 of The Office. It was great being caught up at last, as well as finally being in-the-know when Jamie wasn’t! She’s not allowed to start watching Season 5 until Adam gets here. Which means Andrea and I now get to keep Office secrets from Jamie. Ah, what a role reversal. And what great secrets to be keeping! I won’t write them here, just in case Jamie is lurking… But if you watch The Office, you’ll know what I’m talking about!

Sunday, September 28:

I met up with Jamie and Katie Sunday afternoon for lunch at Hell’s Pizza. Katie reminds me a lot of a miniature version of my friend Whitney. She’s very blunt and sarcastic and, therefore, very funny.

After lunch, we took Katie on a tour of Wellington. She’s here for the next 3 months, doing conservation work out in Lower (or Upper? I don’t remember) Hutt. Jamie has a feeling Katie may just stay indefinitely, however. And judging from Katie’s reaction to the sun-kissed city that afternoon, I think I’m probably inclined to agree.

We walked down past Queen’s Wharf, and then along the Harbor and Oriental Bay. It was a perfect Sunday afternoon, and there were hundreds of people strolling in the nice weather.

It’s days like those that remind me how much I love New Zealand.

Gondolas and Mount Doom.

Rotorua/Mid-country
Sunday, September 21

Jamie and I were up early again on Sunday in attempts to make the most of our last few hours in Rotorua before we caught the bus back to Wellington. The first stop of the day was the Rotorua Skyline Gondola.

We caught the activities shuttle again out to the gondola, and rode up to the observation area/café/luge track. We each got a free hot drink at the top, which was welcome, as the morning was chilly and cloudy with a brisk wind. We had time to kill, so we spent some time watching people luge down the track that wound its way down the hill. It looked fun, but we’re saving that for Queenstown.

Eventually, Jamie and I rode the gondolas back down, and walked next door to Rainbow Springs. They have a little nature park there, as well as a kiwi hatchery. We wanted to do the “Kiwi Encounter,” but we didn’t have time. So we browsed through the gift shop, and sat in the café until it was time to catch the shuttle back into town again.

By the time we got back into town, the sky had cleared, and we were cursing our timing. Rotorua would have certainly looked prettier under a clear sky. Oh well.

We grabbed lunch from Subway, collected our things from our hostel, and went to eat outside of the i-site. We had about 45 minutes to kill before our bus came, but the time went by quickly. A group from Te Puia was there performing hakas and traditional Maori songs, trying to entice people to come to see their village and come to one of their (very pricey) hangi dinners.

Our bus showed up on time, and we began our 7 ½-hour ride back to Wellington. The weather was gorgeous and my iPod stayed alive, making for an enjoyable trip. As we drove along the desert road through Tongariro National Park, all the snowy volcanoes were visible. Ruapehu was as impressive as I remembered it, perhaps even more so in the dazzling sunlight. I also finally got to see all of Mount Doom (Mt. Ngauruhoe)! I only wish my pictures had turned out better – they were tricky to shoot from a fast-moving bus!

We stopped for dinner in Palmerston North, and continued on through to Wellington. We were greeted there by wind and rain. Of course. Luckily, Greg agreed to give me a lift back to the Cube. Thank God, because the trip from Wellington Station back to my flat would not have been a pleasant one in the driving rain!

All in all, the weekend was one of the best in NZ so far. Hopefully they’ll just keep getting better!

The sights and smells of Rotorua.

Rotorua
Saturday, September 20

Saturday did not disappoint. Our curtains were pulled aside to reveal a bright sun and blue sky. Jamie and I both showered and got ready quickly in time for our 9 a.m. pick-up, when we were scheduled to head out to Wai-O-Tapu, Rotorua’s “Thermal Wonderland.”

On the way, the bus stopped at a large mud pool, where we were able to get out and watch (and smell) the bubbling mud. From there, it was off to Lady Knox Geyser for her eruption at 10:15. The geyser, one of the most famous in the area, is basically situated in the middle of nowhere – just a cone of mineral-covered rock jutting up out of the bush. A semi-circle of wooden benches has been built around the geyser, and they were roughly half full when we arrived around 10:10.

A park worker came around to tell us the story of the geyser’s discovery (It has to do with dirty prisoners bathing in a natural hot spring. When they added soap into the water over the geyser, it erupted.), after which he added some soap-like substance to the geyser to help her along. On a regular cycle, Lady Knox would erupt every 24-48 hours, but, being a tourist attraction, she has to erupt every day.

The eruption was actually pretty cool. It wasn’t loud like I thought it would be. It was actually fairly quiet. The water, clear and steamy, went up roughly 10 meters. We were told it would retain that height for quite some time. I don’t know why, but for some reason I never realized how long a geyser eruption lasts.

Jamie and I spent some time snapping photos, but we were due back at our bus at 10:30.

From there, we made our way to Wai-O-Tapu, where we were given about an hour and a half to explore the thermal park on our own before our bus would pick us back up around noon. Jamie and I wasted no time. There are three tracks to hike through the thermal park, and we intended to do them all.

I’ve never seen anything like Wai-O-Tapu before. I’ve seen thermal activity before, but not like this. There were mineral deposits and bodies of water in colors that I didn’t even know existed. The smell of sulfur accosted our nostrils at every turn, but there was too much to see to turn back. We walked through smoking canyons and sulfur clouds and past craters of all shapes and colors.

One of the first really impressive things was called the Artist’s Palette. It’s a large flat expanse near the famous Champagne Pool where pools of turquoise and daisy yellow water appear. Apparently, the pools can move around, based on the chemical makeup of the area. Pretty cool!

Jamie and I walked all the way out to the furthest point of the park where a small waterfall empties into a green lake. On our way back, we skirted the Champagne Pool. It’s likely that you’ve seen a photo of it at some point – it’s a steaming hot water pool of blue-green water, ringed by rust-colored mineral deposits. Luckily for us, the wind was blowing, and we were able to see the edges of the pool through the steam.

On our way out of the park, we passed what was possibly the strangest natural thing I have ever seen. It’s called Devil’s Pool, and it’s a large, still pool of lime green water. The sign said the color ranges from yellow to green based on the mix of sunlight and cloud cover on any given day. When we were there, with a bright sun overhead, the pool was electric lime green. My camera did the real thing no justice whatsoever.

After picking up some postcards and lunch at the park’s gift shop, Jamie and I caught our bus back into Rotorua. We returned to the i-site and booked zorbing for the afternoon. While we waited for the activities shuttle to pick us up, Jamie and I puttered around near the i-site, taking photos in every red phone booth we could find.

Just before 2, we hopped the shuttle out to the Zorb hill. In case you’re unfamiliar with zorbing, picture this: You dive into a rubber contraption that greatly resembles a hamster ball, water is added in, and then you are pushed down a large hill as you slip and slide around in the ball. That is zorbing, and that’s what Jamie and I were out to do. You can also do it without water, or strapped into the inside of the ball if you really want to make yourself vomit. Jamie and I, however, decided to do it wet (that’s what she said).

Zorbing may not really sound like fun. And, in fact, as I watched other people roll down the hill, I was hoping I hadn’t built the whole experience up into something more fun than it was. However, as Jamie and I dived into the zorb ball were we to share, I wasn’t so worried. Even before our mad adventure down the hill, neither of us could stop laughing.

The laughing continued all the way down the hill as we slid around in the ball with no idea which way was up. I don’t think I’ve ever done something so random, or so fun.

At the end of our run, we were both “birthed” from the zorb. If you could see it, you’d understand. You come out of the zorb feet-first along with a splash of water. The zorb employees, snapping pictures as Jamie and I slid out, still laughing, announced, “It’s a girl!” for both of us.

Jamie and I composed ourselves, and eventually changed out of our wet clothes. We watched a few more people come down the hill (many of them on the 1-person zig-zag zorb path), and then decided to stroll down the street to Agroadventures to wait for the shuttle back into town since we had about 40 minutes to kill.

Agroadventures, along with the Agrodome, is situated on a working farm. At the Agrodome, tourists can watch sheep-shearing shows, along with sheep dog demonstrations. Agroadventures, which is where Jamie and I ended up, consists of the Agrojet (a mini jet boat), the Swoop (a giant swing-like contraption) a bungy jump, the Shweeb (I’m not sure how to explain it… it’s like a mini race track where bike-like contraptions are suspended from a monorail track), and the Freefall Xtreme (one of those reverse skydive things where you are suspended in air above a giant fan).

Jamie and I weren’t really planning on trying anything since we only had half an hour to kill. But we were really intrigued by the Swoop. Once we figured out that there was no line and that the whole thing would only take about 10 minutes (and only cost $45), we decided, why not?

We went down to the platform, and got zipped into what looked and felt like body bags, side-by-side. We were then lifted by a crane at least 100 feet in the air – possibly more. Jamie and I both agreed that it was scarier than bungy jumping, because you had the whole way up to realize how far you had to fall back down.

Once we were dangling at the top, it was up to Jamie to pull the cord to release us. As we were given the thumbs up, I think we were both wondering whether she would pull it or not. But she did. I don’t think either one of us was expecting the free fall that we felt, and we both screamed our guts out (but not our hearts).

After the fall, we began swinging over the green farmland. I was laughing, and Jamie was trying to decide – slightly seriously – if she had peed her pants a little. The Swoop workers had fun with us, taking photos and swinging on the end of our body bags as we sailed by.

The whole thing was over in less than 10 minutes. We left the platform, laughing and legs somewhat shaky, and went back out front to wait for our shuttle. As we were picked up, some guy was about to bungy jump. He was standing at the edge of the platform, arms out, not jumping. Jamie, deciding he just needed a little encouragement, hung out the door of the shuttle and yelled “Jump! Jump! Jump!” I think it through the guy off, but, he did eventually jump.

Once we got back into town, Jamie and I decided to kill time before dinner by checking out the government gardens. Being still the tail end of winter, however, there wasn’t really much of a garden to see. Apart from a few tulip patches, the garden was pretty bare. But the walk was sunny, and the Rotorua Museum building in itself was worth the trip. We also found another red phone booth along the way.

After the gardens, Jamie and I decided on the Pig and Whistle for dinner. We probably should have known better. The night before, we had stopped outside to look at the menu, and two separate old men had invited us in and offered to hold the door open for us. And I’m not talking about cute old men on scooters. I’m talking about creepy old men. But we were hoping that, at 5:30 on a Saturday, the restaurant/bar would be creepy old men-free.

Well, we were wrong. (Obviously, otherwise that whole previous paragraph wouldn’t have been necessary.) Throughout our meal, a group of men near the bar kept pointing and laughing at us. At one point, one of them came over, sat in the chair directly behind Jamie, and pretended to take a phone call. While this was going on and Jamie was asking him why he had to be so close to her, another of them was outside the window, making faces.

The man on the phone returned later to “apologize,” and his window friend tried to help him out by bringing over a wilted flower in a beer bottle as some offering of penance or something. Neither of us were impressed, and we left as soon as we’d finished eating.

After dinner, Jamie and I returned to our hostel to drop our wet clothes off. Along the way, the most spectacular sunset started, setting the scattered clouds ablaze in pinks and oranges. As soon as we got to our hostel, we decided to set out again for the lake, hoping to catch the tail end of sunset.

But our dramatic power walking didn’t quite cut it, and we missed the good bits. The lake, however, was bustling at that time of day with families walking, kids running around the playground, and teens playing impromptu games of rugby.

The black swans were also out again in force, and I stumbled upon a sign that made me burst out laughing. Anyone from ONU can understand and agree, I think.

On our way back from the lake, we stopped at Subway for cookies (for me) and the gelato place (for Jamie). Then we went back to our hostel again. We entertained the idea of trying to go out that night, but our jam-packed day, by then, had caught up with us. We crashed on the couches again instead, watching “Ray” until we could no longer stay awake.



P.S. – 10 points if you can pick out The Office references in this post.