River Valley

I've started writing this post about 6 times, but every time I do it seems there's another chore to be done, and so I run off. Tonight's a quiet night at the lodge, so I'm hoping that allows me some freedom to write.

The Lodge

I'm working hard around here. My days typically start at 8AM. I wake up, walk downstairs, go outside and light a fire in the boiler. This fire making process consists of dry timber, cardboard boxes, and a Bic lighter, because matches in the wind are the worst. I've become pretty good at lighting fires, though not very good at tending to them to make sure they don't go out. See previous point. The boiler heats all the water for the lodge, so I pity any early-risers who try to take a hot shower before I wake up.

The Lodge, from the inside

After the boiler is nice and toasty, I wipe down every surface In the lodge to take off some of the ash that drifts from the fireplace. Then it's usually breakfast time, some muesli and a couple pieces of toast for 15 minutes while I check twitter, because lord knows I need my baseball fix. I find odd jobs to do around the lodge (today I sorted 20 or so decks of cards which had accumulated in a big messy basket over the years. Sadly, no complete decks.) Every day I spend half an hour or so walking the grounds, picking up cigarette butts and trash to keep the place looking nice. This is my favorite time of the morning, when the air is cold and the river is loud and it's just me with my thoughts and sometimes a hangover. At 10AM my work starts in earnest.

10AM is checkout time, aka time for the housekeepers to make everything look good again. In River Valley there are several lodging areas:

-The Lodge: Two 16 bunk dorms, two double bedrooms, and one attic for the "slave" (that's me!)

-The Bunkhouses: Four 6 bunk rooms, two suites

-The Bungalows: Five suites

The Bunkhouses

I haven't done the math but that's a lot of beds to make. I'll spare the gory details, but Georgie the housekeeper and I take down and remake all of the used rooms, which can take anywhere from 2 hours on a light day to 7 hours with some overflow into the next day on the worst days. Suffice to say, I've made more beds in a week here than I ever did over the course of my life before this. Same goes for the number of square feet vacuumed, because that part comes next.

Typically we break for lunch at 1230. Miranda, the chef, is absolutely fantastic. So much good food. Lunch has been anything from sandwiches to chickpea curry to fresh bell pepper soup. Anyway, amazing lunch aside, it's time to get back to work.

After all the vacuuming and bed making, comes the real glorious job: toilet cleaning. 3 days a week a bus of 25-35 people comes through the lodge, and cleaning the 5 communal toilets in the morning is a real treat. Just going to leave it at that.

Lastly, there's the laundry. Some of its done offsite, but the majority is done in the afternoons by Georgie and I. 5 loads of laundry is a typical day, and I'm proud to say I can now fold a fitted sheet well.  After the laundry all that's left for the average day's housekeeping is to sweep and mop the lodge.

On the days when less people have spent the night, I've still got plenty of tasks to keep me busy. Brian, the boss, was excited to bring me on because he wants me to fix up that trail I showed you guys in the last post. Pretty cool, even though the level of instruction on how to put in nice steps on the trail consisted of showing me where the hammer, nails, and lumber are. My first step attempt may or may not have been washed out in the torrential rain we got last weekend, but I'm learning.

That about does it for my days. The nights, though. The nights are a different ball game. I spend my nights chatting and having a few drinks with the staff, and then having a few more drinks and getting to know the guests. The buses are always packed with new arrivals, mostly from the UK, and it gives me a great chance to meet new people who I can hopefully meet up with later in my travels. After one too many drinks by the fire, I make the long trip up to bed.

View from my room

Seems like a pretty fun way to spend vacation, right?

There are also some perks I haven't mentioned yet:

-The View:

That was outside my bedroom window when I woke up this morning. Yowza.

-The Sauna

Yep.

-The Food:

I know I mentioned it already. But damn.

-The not-so-typical chores (**Disclaimer: Mom, please don't look at this picture.**)

If you squint your eyes juust right you can see the helmet and safety harness, I promise.

-The Staff

Last but definitely not least. The people here at River Valley really have made the last week of my life something special. I'll try to shed a little light on the whole team in the next post, but really I am having a wonderful time getting to know them. 

That's it for me for now, off to sleep and then to do it all again in the morning!

Cheers,

Jared

Rangitikei

Well I had typed up a whole post on Rotorua, but it magically deleted itself from my iPad, so I'll just sum it up and press on to the more memorable, more recent bits.

Here's the Cliff's Notes to my Rotorua trip:

- The entire city smells like rotten eggs, thanks to volcanic hot springs all throughout the area

- Despite the smell, the town is beautiful and scenic, which has turned into something of a theme for New Zealand thus far

- Went Zorbing. A zorb is a giant hamster ball for humans, and is a ton of fun. Expensive, but I felt like I just had to do it because I was there. Totally awesome. On a side note, if anyone is looking for a professional zorb racer for-hire, shoot me an email. If I ever get back to a place with broadband Internet, I'll upload a video of me absolutely smoking my competition in a downhill zorb race.

Zorbs on the hill, ready for racing.

Taihape:

After one day in Rotorua, we piled back on a bus and headed off for Taihape. Now, on my grand list of places to go in New Zealand that I researched well beforehand, Taihape appeared exactly no times. You see, Taihape is a town of about 2,000 people on the road between Lake Taupo and Wellington. The intercity bus stops next door to the library, which does triple duty as the town hall and community theater.

Why this town? That's thanks to my travel buddies, Tim and Blake, who you may remember from my illustrious hitchhiking debut. Whitewater rafting was on their list of New Zealand must-do's, and in their research they had discovered that the Rangitikei River outside of Taihape featured the most formidable and exciting Grade 5 rapids in NZ. They found a place called the River Lodge, and were planning on using their services for the rafting trip.

We'd made it a goal to not plan anything more than 24 hours in advance, be that hostels, activities, transportation, or even location. Our plan for this trip was to buy tickets to Taihape, and catch a local bus out to this River Lodge. Imagine our surprise when we called in to book our accommodation, and were informed that: a) Taihape has no bus system, and b) the lodge is located a 40 minute drive outside of town. Fortunately, they were able to send out a shuttle to pick us up.

The following is a set of 4 pictures I took, 2 of which from a moving vehicle, on the way from Lake Taupo to Rangitikei Gorge:

I mean, come on. That's not even fair.

It just so happened that since it's barely springtime in New Zealand, we were the only people staying at the River Lodge that night. The staff had all gone home, and it was pretty fantastic to just have a quiet hall to ourselves to drink and play cribbage.

After a long night of one too many bottles of wine and a fight involving giant Jenga blocks, we woke up at 7:30am (or half seven as the UK folk I've met like to call it) for our day on the river.

Holy cow. The rapids were incredible and it was an absolutely stunning day, the best since I've been here by far. Blue skies as far as the eye could see, and hardly a cloud on the horizon. Of course, that was also the day that I was squeezed into a wetsuit and camera-less, so you'll all have to use the ol' imagination on that one. The river runs clear, and the water is freezing cold but pure enough that you can reach out of the raft and drink it as you paddle. The gorge on either side is steep and sheer, with beautiful rock formations and ledges carved into it by the path of the river. Countless waterfalls, huge boulders, just absolutely stunning. I can honestly say I've never seen more natural beauty in one place.

After the rafting, we all passed out and slept for most of the most beautiful day I've had in New Zealand, which is totally fitting if you know me. Once we woke up though, we decided to take a quick 20 minute hike away from the lodge, where we'd been told we could see another waterfall, though the trail was a bit dodgy.

"Trail"

Again, having seen the gorge all day on the raft, I didn't think I could be surprised again. But then:

Honestly, the pictures don't even do it justice. I felt like I was in the movie Up.

I'll backtrack a little, since I skipped a pretty important bit. Since we were the only ones staying in the lodge that night, we were also the only ones rafting. this meant that instead of one guide with us, we had three, including the people who run the place. While we were rafting, we talked with the guides, and I may have off-handedly made a remark about how I wish I could see this every day, or something along those lines, and one of them mentioned their "slave program."

 

[Sidebar here: it's pretty amazing to me how different and less historically charged the word "slave" is here. They really think nothing of it, and consider it a decent word to use on people. Considering slavery doesn't heavily factor into their history, I guess it makes sense. Just a moment of culture shock for me.]

In the program, they look for travelers looking to save a bit of money and spend a bit of time exploring Rangitikei. The position entails 5-6 hours a day of work around the lodge, ranging from arranging rooms to cleaning bathrooms, from starting the fireplace to washing dishes. In exchange, volunteers get free lodging, 3 meals a day, free (slow)wifi, free laundry services, and reduced bar prices. Generally the program is run during the summer, but since spring has sprung and the pace of visits is starting to pick up, they were looking for one person to help out, minimum 2 week commitment.

As you can probably tell by the fact that I'm writing this much about it, I took the opportunity and will be staying at River Lodge for the next two weeks, working in paradise. The spirit of this trip has been about doing things I would ordinarily never do, and this is definitely one of those times. This place, this life, is the polar opposite of almost everything about my life in the states. What better way to unwind and let go? 

I said goodbye to Tim and Blake as they continued on to meet up with their friends in Christchurch, and for the last 2 days I've been working my tail off but loving every minute of it. I'll write up a post sometime this weekend about all the chores I'm doing (hoping this is habit forming) and all of the wonderful Kiwis I'm getting to know around here. I'm definitely getting the true New Zealand experience this trip.

Cheers,

Jared

Adventure? A day in the life of a failed hitchhiker

Act I:

My story begins with a change of hostel. Since this is a trip without a true plan, I only booked my first 2 days in he YMCA Hostel, after which I assumed, of course, I'd have surrounded myself with a band of new friends and cohorts to go travel the country with, and we'd move along our merry way.

Wrong.

YMCA hostel, it seems, is suited for the professional traveler, or long term stays. I really wasn't sure if I was doing it wrong, or if everyone around me was just a little off, but it seemed like nobody wanted to meet new people, and nobody frequented the common areas. Also, as apparently an added bo After 2 days, I wasn't too unhappy to find that hostel booked full for the next night. I booked myself a hostel across town, Nomad Auckland. Good choice. Holy hell, did that work out well.

Immediately, everyone was much friendlier, and far more interested in actually getting to know me. I met some cool people from England and Northern Ireland, had a few pints of the local draught at the bar, and went to sleep early.

The next day I woke up early and went to read my book and  watch a few movies in the common room. Ran into two American folks (could tell by the accent and a Washington Nationals cap) and decided to make friends. Another good choice. Turns out these gentlemen had just gotten into town from Georgia, and were making their way around the North Island for a week before meeting up with some friends on the South Island. Being a responsible person, I invited myself along on their adventure, because apparently that's the sort of thing I'm doing now. We'll call these folks Tim and Blake. Their names are not being changed, because none of us are innocent in this whole ordeal.

After a very long night consisting of me:

-observing possibly my favorite live sporting event of all time

-playing pool at a semi-competent level for the first time ever

-consuming several jugs (tiny pitchers) of Kiwi imitation Coors Light

-ending the night with a few rounds of free tequila shots (side note: no tequila shot is ever free. I paid full price in the morning.)

I was there!

Haka

We began our journey at 10 AM.

Act II:

Tim is a man with a dream. Blake is a man with a plan. Tim's dream was to hitch-hike his way around New Zealand. Blake was the guy with all the answers to get us there.

In the interest of full disclosure, I was informed of the intent to hitchhike their way to Rotorua (think New Zealand's version of Disneyland) well before I bought into the idea. It seemed like a fun way to get there, and certainly beat the dullness of buying a simple $30 bus ticket. So I joined up, ready for a good adventure.

Blake researched beforehand, and our first instructions directed us to a service center on the outskirts of town. We checked out of the hostel in the morning, and made our way to the train station. At the ticket kiosk, I remarked to Tim something along the lines of: "Well, we're committing money to this now. Hope we thought this through." And we were off.

It's hard to fully express how this trip began without first explaining that the trains in Auckland run slooooow. As in, for some parts of the ride to the All Blacks game, I could very well have walked faster than the train. The ride today proved that was no exception, and though the train breezed up to what seemed like 30mph, it was closer to the Disneyland Railroad than any other mass public transport I've experienced. Anyhow, we rode that wonderful train to the end of the line, Papakura, a quiet little suburb an hour out of the CBD.

It was on our way to Papakura that we learned the true reason we were taking this train: to catch a bus, which would put us in the right direction for this mystical service center. We arrived, and set about waiting for the appropriate bus, number 475 to Pukekohe.

We were getting a bit hungry, so we tracked down a suburban grocery called Countdown. We each bought a bottle of cheap wine, which we planned to drink in Rotorua that afternoon. I made what I thought was a brilliant move, and bought a $3 bacon and egg pie (New Zealanders are huge on meat pies. I figured it was a good idea.) Story of my life, not the best purchase I ever made. Turns out, pies are much better when you have an apparatus with which to reheat them. A cold bacon and egg pie at a suburban Auckland bus stop tastes about as awful as it sounds.

While we waited, Blake read us the full directions to the center.  We joked about how these directions were going to lead us astray, how they'd feature fun steps like "Turn right at the road. Walk to the fourth house on the left, and knock 3 times, sharply. DO NOT KNOCK ON THE DOOR OF THE FIFTH HOUSE."  The jokes weren't far off.

The directions, which were more of a blog, included great phrases like:

-"I think the #475 bus"

-"Just get off anywhere around #490"

-"Look to your right at the wood fence next to the last house."

That went about as well as you'd expect. When we got on the 475 bus, the driver had absolutely no idea where we were trying to get off. He charged us a little less than half the normal fare and sent us to sit. The rest of the people on board were traveling to Pukekohe, half an hour away. After about 5 minutes, the bus driver either forgot about us, or just decided we'd be better off in Pukekohe than wherever we were trying to go. 

Incorrect. We got off the bus in Puke, as the locals affectionately call it, and realized almost immediately that this was neither the right town to hitchhike from nor to catch an intercity bus. We hopped right back on the bus, much to the confusion of the driver, who didn't charge us for the round trip. Less resilient folk would have given up right there and just taken the free trip back to Papakura and called it a day. Not us.

We asked the driver to drop us off by the freeway entrance as he passed, and he obliged after giving us a very concerned look.

Act III: 

Hitchhiking is an art form. I know this because I've tried it, now.

We found a section near the on ramp that looked like prime hitching real estate, and we set up shop. Thumbs out, and all that. After about 10 minutes, we'd received more than a few blank stares, some head shakes, and a thumbs up. Not even a brake check.

At this point, we had a discussion about the merits of hitchhiking in New Zealand, which is apparently not uncommon but not easy. Part of this discussion hinged on a critical point: is "thumbs out" a universal symbol? Or is that just an American invention, and maybe these poor Kiwis in passing cars think we're just a bunch of happy travelers congratulating them on their Sunday drive? 

Another important note: none of us have cell phones that work here, so there's no hope of GPSing our way somewhere, or looking up good methods and hand signals for hitching NZ. We decide that the only thing keeping us from Rotorua right now is the lack of a sign stating our intended destination. We pooled resources, and correctly spelled Rotorua in block letters on a piece of paper.

How could they not pick us up?

Despite our beautiful sign, after another few minutes still nobody stopped. Our packs were feeling pretty heavy at this point, and we had a philosophical discussion about whether we'd look too lazy if we put them down. Nobody wants to pick up a lazy hitchhiker, right? It's all about likeability. We had another brief powwow, and decided that though the sign was perfectly legible, there wasn't enough time for drivers to read it as they whizzed by. Tim had a plan for this, too.

Yep.

After about 45 minutes, we finally threw in the towel, defeated. We walked a ways, ready to give in and catch the tour bus to Rotorua. We found the local watering hole, festively titled "Chill Out Bar and Grill" and sought out some wifi to book our bus tickets.

Nope. No wifi here in sleepy Drury, a suburb of the suburb. We had a pint and waited for a cab back to Papakura, where we were told we'd have far better chances. After a $20 cab to town, we were dropped off at the bus stop where we started. Ticket office closed. No wifi, not even locked networks. We walked through town, and were directed to a McDonalds which was apparently the only place in town with the Internet.

Walking to McD's to give up on our hitchhike was pretty much the low point in a series of lows, until this:

That's just mean spirited.

We trudged back to the train station, caught a train back to Auckland, and spent the entire ride thinking on our many many failures and drinking those bottles of wine. We checked back into the same hostel we left in the morning, and booked ourselves bus tickets for the next day to Rotorua.

Epilogue:

I'm writing this on the bus ride to Rotorua. This place had better be pretty damn awesome for all the trouble we've been through.

Cheers,

Jared

Things I've Learned

Just thought I'd compile a few of the things I've learned so far on this trip:

1. There are ok hostels, and then there are awesome hostels. So far no hostels like the movie Hostel. 

2. Meteorologists in New Zealand have even less of a clue than in the states. Also, the weather changes every 10 minutes. Bring a damn jacket.

3. Tequila shots after 1am are still a bad idea in the Southern Hemisphere. Even if they're free.

4. I could watch rugby on tv for the rest of my life and I don't think I'd ever really miss football.

5. When traveling with new acquaintances, check their directions before you go. I've just been on a wonderful bus adventure through the South Auckland suburbs because one of them had fantastic online directions with phrases like "I think" and "-ish" in them. Story to come once I've composed it in an enjoyable manner.

A Saturday Morning Update over Coffee

I suppose the good news is that I haven't had a lot of time for updates, right?

I've spent the last three days in Auckland, to varying degrees of success. Day 1, I felt like I walked the entire splay of the city or at least the CBD (downtown). The Auckland waterfront is beautiful, and reminded me more than a little of Seattle. Actually, if I could compare Auckland to any US city it would be Seattle. The large, Space-Needle-like Sky Tower doesn't really dispel that idea.

Anyhow, I walked for what felt like forever, found out that Auckland Chinese food is waaay better than LA's, and eventually passed out around 8pm after what felt like and probably was the longest day of my life.

Day 2, it rained all damn day. I spent 3 hours in a coffee shop waiting for the rain to let up, before heading out and getting absolutely soaked on my way to the Auckland art gallery. That will be the last time I leave my hostel without my rain jacket or checking the weather. Ate dinner in a bar and had a good time explaining to the waitress that I didn't fly halfway around the world to drink California beers.

 

Giant inflatable flower thingy in the art gallery. I don't get it, but I tried.

Day 3, for Friday the 13th, the skies finally cleared and it was a gorgeous day. Since I only booked my first 2 days in the hostel before I arrived, I had to move to a new hostel. New hostel is much friendlier.

Since it was such a pretty damn day, I caught a ferry out to Waiheke Island, in the Hauraki Gulf outside of Auckland. The terrain around here is insanely beautiful, and the Auckland harbor is dotted with bright green volcanic islands. Waiheke is drop-dead gorgeous, and has some of the most pristine beaches I've ever seen. Waiheke is famous for its vineyards, but I didn't have a chance to tour one, at least on this trip. The beer, however, I did try.

I call this picture "My Happy Place."

That's all for the last 3 days. Today is one of the few days I booked long before I came to New Zealand: All Blacks (NZ) vs. Springboks (South Africa) at Eden Park Stadium, Auckland. For the unfamiliar, that's two of the top, if not the top two, rugby teams in the world facing off in the city I happen to be in. Yes, I got a ticket, and yes, I am very excited. I consider this my trade-off for missing  the USC football season. Probably a good trade this year, sadly.

Cheers,

Jared

Auckland, Day 1: I'm actually here

Well that was a travel marathon! The last few weeks have been exciting, as I've said my farewells to work, my old apartment, and had far too many drinks with just the right amount of wonderful people.

Some brief updates:

-Last night I got my first experience with solo international travel, and save for a few bumps and bruises to my delicate psyche I've arrived unscathed in Auckland, NZ. 

-My phone is a paperweight with lights and buttons at this point. I suspended my At&T service, and was told I could call in at any time to unlock my phone for an international provider. However, they neglected to mention I'd need to sync and update my phone via iTunes, which is on my laptop, which is currently 6500 miles away. Whoops.

-This is my first travel across the International Date Line, which is seriously weirding me out at the moment. First of all, the flight was 13 hours of complete darkness, and it was already nighttime before I departed. Also, it's now Wednesday morning,  even though it feels like Tuesday afternoon.

-This is also my first experience in a country where you drive on the left. Definitely failed the first test, almost got hit while crossing the street and reflexively turned the wrong way.

-In typical American fashion, after checking in and dropping off my backpack at my hostel, I've taken up a post in the local Starbucks to plan my next move. In case anyone is wondering: the coffee is (surprisingly!) better, the wifi is worse.

It's a foggy, cold morning in Auckland, but the sun is starting to show through and I think I'm going to go make something of my first day here.

Cheers, 

Jared