December 31, 2013 S. Island III: New Years' Eve

I went bungy jumping at the first commercial bungy location in the world. It may well be the only time I ever attempt such a daredevil action, but I think it’s an appropriate end to the year which has turned out to be much different than I envisioned it would be last New Years’. Plus, I figured I’m far enough away from my mama that she won’t strangle me when she finds out what I did…

December 30, 2013 S. Island II: Queenstown, Milford Sound

The tour left Tekapo and headed farther south, and soon after departing we passed Mt. Cook, which is NZ’s tallest mountain. Unfortunately the day was so overcast that a thick cloud surrounded much of the mountain, so I’m still not sure what its peak looks like. However, our stop at Lake Pukaki at its base still provided a beautiful sight—but I’ll have to go back someday to take in all of Mt. Cook. We drove on into more gorgeous scenery, including the Lindis Pass through the Southern Alps, and stopped to visit a salmon farm and to get lunch. While in Cromwell for our midday meal, I chatted with a friendly trio of older ladies from Dunedin who were on holiday and who were most curious to find out how an au pair’s job works.

Our journey continued well into the Southern Alps until we reached “the adventure capital of NZ”: Queenstown. It comprises a small but beautiful area on Lake Wakatipu, and the downtown only fills about one square kilometer. The town makes no bones about how tourism-dependent it is; most of the stores cater to travelers seeking activities, food, and retail therapy. I joined two new friends in ambling through the town, and I enjoyed taking in the views of the lake. Tekapo/Queenstown pictures here.

However, no views compared and no description could have prepared me for the following day. We took a day trip to Milford Sound, a place that everyone raved about but no one really described; after visiting myself, I understand why that happens, but I’ll try to provide a substantial account.

The bus drove well into the Southern Alps. Heavy clouds clung to the mountaintops, and rain pelted the windshield a few times. The farther we went, the closer and higher the mountains grew until we entered Fiordland National Park. Heavy rainfall in this part of NZ gives the area a luscious appearance, and the park is indeed a temperate rain forest. Trees closed in on the road, but through the branches I saw the mountainsides become steeper, and saw narrow waterfalls rushing down their sides. The trees began to thin, and we were surrounded by sharp, gray walls and peaks topped with snow and covered by even more falls. The road took our bus through a long, narrow tunnel, and when we emerged the sight only became more astounding as the mountains and waterfalls increased in grandeur. We wound down into the valley between the two sides of mountains, and finally a glistening body of water appeared.

While no one resides in Milford Sound, a bustling depot for tourist buses and ferries sits next to the fjord. We boarded a ferry and rode for an hour to the Tasman Sea, and on the way the mountains remained steep and ominous, and the hundreds of waterfalls swelled and pounded the rocks. I didn’t remain on deck for the entire journey due to the icy rain that came and went, but I tried to take in as much as I could. Even still, when the ferry docked I was just as amazed as I was when we departed. My wonderment remained as we retraced the long road out of the park, and even as I reflect on the astounding work of nature that I took in, I struggle to articulate all that I saw and felt. All pictures here. 

 

I suppose that’s what visitors to Milford Sound really wrestle with: how to express how it felt. I’ve done a decent enough job piecing together what I saw, but it’s a place where every other piece of the environment that the senses can take—the magnitude of the mountains, the iciness of the waterfalls’ spray, the sound of furious water—all combines to strike awe and wonderment into any who enter. I can’t speak for every visitor, but for me, it was a place that made me feel small, yet made me feel truly alive and part of something bigger. If I take anything away from this trip, it will be how I felt in the midst of Milford Sound.

December 28, 2013 S. Island I: Christchurch/Tekapo

I now begin the holiday trip I have been looking forward to since I first considered moving to NZ: I will spend the next ten days traveling through the South Island. It’s sparsely populated and filled with awe-inspiring works of nature, and every time the South Island crops up in conversation, everyone I meet swoons over the journeys and sights they have experienced here. I’m filled with anticipation over what I’ll encounter on my trip, which I’ll be sharing with twenty other au pairs from around NZ.

The first leg of the trip was an evening flight to Christchurch, the largest city in the south. It seemed to be a journey through time, because the flying experience I had on this domestic flight made me feel as if I’d been transported to the 1970s. Security consisted of my placing my bags through a scanner, and a chatty pair of security officers glanced at the scan before I gathered my belongings and almost immediately reached my gate. We boarded at a reasonable time, and the plane took off a few minutes ahead of schedule. I half expected the pilot to announce the stewardesses would distribute complimentary cigarettes once we finished takeoff. The flight landed ten minutes early, and I almost got whiplash from how quickly I retrieved my checked bag. In short: I’m the newest and biggest advocate for Air New Zealand.

Because of the tour itinerary, I spent the night in Christchurch but left early the following morning. We drove around a few parts of the city’s central business district and a beach, but unfortunately Christchurch was not the most appealing town due to its weather and its crumbling buildings. Earthquakes devastated the city’s center in late 2010 and early 2011—claiming close to 200 lives and destroying hundreds of buildings—and the city has hardly seemed to recover from the event. On our brief tour we saw areas in the CBD that were still fenced off, and we passed a large number of homes that were now abandoned but had once had the best hillside views of the ocean. However, life goes on, and the dozens of surfers filling the water at Sumner Beach didn’t seemed deterred to enjoy it despite the dismal weather and the crumbling city they call home.

We drove south along Highway One, and I enjoyed staring out the window at the scenery that at first felt very familiar to me. The motorway reminded me of the many drives I’ve taken through Georgia (particularly US-441, for those reading at home): the two-lane highway ran parallel to a railroad for much of the way, much of the view consisted of crop-filled fields or cow-filled pastures, and every so often you’d hit a wide spot in the road named after some farmer’s relative. We had a whistle stop in a town called Geraldine; then our tour continued south, while we watched out the windows as the terrain began to stretch higher around us until we made it to the first real stop on the trip.

Tekapo, which shares its name with the lake it almost falls into, grew from an extremely small town to a very small town in the last decade thanks to its location (near halfway between Christchurch and Queenstown) and scenery. Lake Tekapo, a glacial lake surrounded by mountains, left me speechless. It’s fed by high mountain snow, and glacial movement scraping rock gives it an unreal shade of blue. We arrived to town in the late afternoon and viewed the lake first from its rocky shore, and then we drove to the hilltop of Mt. John Observatory to survey the stunning sight from above. (Although we didn’t get to visit it, the observatory holds a special place in astronomical research, so its surrounding areas form one of only four Dark Sky Reserves in the world.) Our final stop for the evening was the Tekapo Hot Pools, where we took in the beautiful environment while soaking our travel-weary bones.

Tekapo pictures here.

December 25, 2013 An Isthmus Christmas

This year marked the first time that I didn’t spend Christmas in Atlanta with my family. My traditional family activities include helping my dad lay strings of lights through the juniper in our front yard, decorating the tree while blasting Mannheim Steamroller holiday tunes, and joining extended family gatherings on both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. It’s a noisy, delicious, happy time of year, but I figured this will be the only chance for me to see a Kiwi Christmas, so I decided months ago that I’d spend this December 25th with my host family in Auckland. Despite the gifts for the kids not arriving on time—although I’m sure they won’t mind getting another present in January—it was a fun holiday for me.

I turned out feeling more homesick than I’d expected. I had a long Skype chat with my family during their Christmas Eve gathering, and it hadn’t really felt to me like Christmas time until I saw that. The setting, the food, the faces, and even some of the conversations were the same as always; only after glimpsing into their evening did I realize what I was missing and wonder if I had made a mistake in not returning to the homestead for the sacred yearly gathering.  However, I still got to laugh with my family and see them open the gifts I sent from NZ, which means I got to enjoy the best moments of Christmas.

I really enjoyed finding out not only how another country celebrates the holiday, but how another family spends it. On Christmas morning, I loved watching the kids euphorically cover the living room with toys and gift wrap, and for most of the day I enjoyed seeing how my host family shared their love and food with each other. The meals were a delicious departure from what I typically consume at Christmastime, and my favorite was a raw, cured salmon that my host dad’s mum had made for dinner. We also shared Christmas crackers, which are paper tube-like wrappers that two people pull apart from opposite ends; they pop loudly when they split, and within each is a toy, a crepe paper crown, and a slip of paper with a very cheesy joke. The kids loved the noisy colorfulness of it, and because we adults joined in, too, the floor was littered with paper scraps and we all sat around the table with our multicolored crowns by the time we contentedly munched our last morsels of dinner.

Even though I often felt like I was more an observer than a participant at this Christmas celebration (but hey, I feel that way at my own family gatherings sometimes), I had a lovely holiday. I’m so grateful that my host family is so welcoming, and I’m glad I could share a special time of year with them. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Dec 24, 2013 Northland IV: Paihia (day 2)

I spent my last day visiting the Waitangi Treaty grounds, which I reached on a rental bike since it was a few kilometers away from my hostel. The Waitangi Treaty was an important document in NZ history, and I enjoyed learning about it on the site where it had been written and first signed. Pictures here.

**If you think history is boring, skip to the next bit of red.**

Created in February 1840, it codified the rights and processes of trade, land possession, and law in NZ, particularly when it came to interactions between the indigenous Maoris and the newly-arrived English colonists (who were a rather rowdy bunch). The treaty officially sealed an agreement between the English inhabitants who remained under the sovereign British crown and the unified confederation of Maori chiefs throughout the country. However, as is common throughout European colonialism, there were a few discrepancies between the two copies of the treaty—the chiefs signed the one “translated” into Te Reo Maori and the handful of British authorities signed one in English—however, it still served as a strong and mostly peaceful document to bridge the two cultures. Thus, it is recognized as the document that made New Zealand a nation. Don’t you think people who don’t appreciate history are short-sighted and ignorant?

 
 
The Treaty Grounds contain a small visitor center and the handful of sites and objects important to the treaty’s creation or built to commemorate it. This includes the world’s longest ceremonial war canoe, which was built to celebrate the centennial Waitangi Day and holds 120 people at once (and requires 80 to sail). The building where the treaty was written and revised—the home of the English leader at the time—has been preserved, including life-size figures of him and his family, which I found a bit unsettling. There is also a ceremonial waka (a Maori house), which is unique in that it was built to represent all Maori, whereas a waka typically only represents a single tribe. Finally, the Flagpole standing on the lawn resembles a ship’s mast and flies a flag for both the Maori and the English, above which unfurls the NZ flag.

 **Whew, you made it! Now for more vacation bits.**

My final activity for the trip was what I suppose every other visitor to Paihia did first: I spent an hour on the beach in a bathing suit. While certainly a relaxing activity—and heck, probably the only time I’ll be on a beach for Christmas Eve—an hour was all my fair skin needed.

I returned home on an afternoon-long bus ride, and I savored my last moments riding through Northland. I thought about all the places I’d been, and how that’s probably the only time in my life I’ll ever get to go there; how beautiful they were, and asking myself how they felt and tasted and what they sounded like, so that I won’t just have photos to take home from this trip. I thought about the amazing, fascinating, kind-hearted people I’d met and really talked with, and how I might never have encountered them and realized there were such marvelous individuals in this world if I hadn’t gotten the guts to travel on my own. Finally, even though there were times when something happened and I thought, “I wish I had someone to share this with,” there were far more moments when I thought, “I never knew I was capable of this.” Those moments made this one of the most fulfilling trips I have ever taken in my life, because, dang it, it really is the journey, not the destination.

Dec 23, 2013 Northland III: Cape Reinga

Day three was the longest. I took an all-day tour to the northernmost accessible part of NZ, Cape Reinga, and we made some interesting stops along the way. See all photos here.

 
We drove a couple hours on the highway (which is what they call a winding, two-lane road) and then reached Ninety-Mile Beach. This stretch of sand extends along the northwestern coast toward the Cape, and despite its catchy name, is only 64 miles (and not even 90km). The bus drove the full length entirely on the sand, and often within reach of the waves, all the while with the driver encouraging passengers to approach the front of the bus where he would take his eyes and both hands off the wheel to snap photos for them. He assured us he’d been driving the route for 18 years, and surprisingly I never really felt in danger.

After passing the narrowest bit of beach we stopped to take in the view, and after that made our way to the Te Paki sand dunes. Once there, the braver passengers (including me) trudged to the top of a dune to catch the ride down. I’ve never been one for heights but after making such a massive climb, I was too out of breath to be apprehensive about riding a foam board down the slope with nothing but sunglasses and summer clothing for protection. Even though I my body was caked with sand once I reached the bottom, the ride was so fantastic that I climbed up and did it again!

We then headed toward what I most looked forward to: Cape Reinga. This spot not only marks the northern tip of the country, but also offers the incredible vantage point to see the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean collide. The ancient Maori held this spot sacred, because they believed it to be the place where spirits of the deceased journeyed and then leapt into the water to make their way to paradise. I can see why someone could take in such a location and perceive it as something quite spiritual; it was certainly awesome for this traveler. The views really took my breath away, and it’s one place that I don’t think I’ll ever forget.  

After leaving the Cape, we briefly stopped for lunch (yet another peanut butter-Vogel sandwich for this girl), where I discovered that two of my fellow passengers on the tour were Americans. This young couple from Texas was celebrating their tenth anniversary, and they had already been through the South Island a few weeks prior. I do love traveling and meeting people from all over the world, but there’s a certain kind of comfort that comes from hearing American accents (and Southern ones, at that). Listening to their experience on the South Island—where I’m headed next week—was definitely a plus as well.

The last stop before we returned to the Bay of Islands was the Manginangina Kauri Walk. If I hadn’t already seen a kauri forest a couple of days prior, I probably would have been in awe of this setting, but at the time my fatigue from all the bus riding outweighed my interest in seeing more kauri trees. The walk in Whangarei also extended much farther than this Manginangina walk.

We finally made our way back to Paihia, where I reflected on how much I had covered in a single day before once again collapsing on my bed in record time. 

December 22, 2013 Northland II: Paihia (day 1)

Paihia was my next stop. As one of the towns on the Bay of Islands (again, if only all of NZ had such obvious names), it’s a coastal town with a lovely stretch of beach. I joined a kayak tour there to better see the bay, and it ended up being one of my favorite activities from the entire trip. (Pictures here.) 

The tour began as one big reminder that I’m single and will probably die alone: when I tried to register online ahead of time, I couldn’t because it’s a minimum of 2 people to sign up; when I did join the tour, I was the only one in a 1-person kayak (which the guide said capsizes more easily); and one of the other people in group asked me why my other half hadn’t signed up as well. However, I didn’t let that get to me, and most of the tour—as I’d anticipated—turned out an absolute delight (even though I learned that I am absolute rubbish at steering a kayak). We paddled along the beaches, dug in the shallow waters for clams (I found over 20!) and visited a small island with stunning views. At the end of it I was shivering, worn out, and couldn’t stop smiling.

To make the tour even better, I met a family who are probably THE nicest people I’ve encountered in NZ: a Scottish/English bunch on holiday in Paihia before making their way to South Auckland to spend Christmas with extended family. During the tour we chatted about travel, family, and swimming (some of my strongest conversation points), and when I laughingly told the dad about my peanut butter-Vogel diet, he invited me to join them at a rib shack for dinner. After I recovered from hearing such a generous offer, I accepted, and breaking bread with them turned out to be one of the best experiences during my trip. We talked about where we’d gone before (their journey to NZ included stops in Dubai and Sydney), and what we thought of NZ (the mum told me her Scottish uncle said much of the kiwi countryside strongly resembles the highlands of his homeland).They were absolutely delightful, and I still can’t get over what a kind gesture they extended to me. 

December 21, 2013 Northland I: Whangarei

I just got home from one of the best trips of my life: I took four days to travel through some of Northland, the northernmost region of the North Island of NZ (I wish this country were covered in such obvious names, but most places actually bear Maori names that I can spell but rarely pronounce correctly). The entire trip covered hundreds of kilometers and proved absolutely marvelous, but it was a journey in more ways than one. This holiday has left an impression on me not only because of the places I saw and got to experience, but also because it was the first time I traveled completely solo—on my own dime and relying on my own resourcefulness. In only a few days, I met people I wouldn’t typically interact with had I been in my usual mode of relying on other individuals (usually an older sibling) to sort out details.

When planning the trip, I knew I wanted to travel as cheaply and lightly as possible, so I look only a large backpack of clothing and towels, and a small drawstring backpack for day activities. For meals, I bought a loaf of Vogel’s (a famous NZ brand), a jar of peanut butter, and some dried fruit—I’d rather spend money on activities than going out to eat, and I can eat simply for four days if I have to. My transportation would all be by buses; I had traveled that way during a trip in Spain with my oldest sister a few years ago, but I hadn’t taken any public transportation other than a ferry since I’d been in NZ. I was apprehensive, to say the least, but of course everything went smoothly.

The first stop: Whangarei, a seemingly small town on an east coast harbor 160km north of central Auckland. My host parents hadn’t been too complimentary on its “sights,” so I decided to stick to outdoor activities when planning my stay there. This included seeing Whangarei Falls, exploring the Abbey Caves, and viewing the city from its lookout on Mt. Parihaka; I checked their locations throughout the area and decided I could visit each on foot in an afternoon. The Falls were fine, but not spectacular; I much preferred the walk that followed it through A.H. Reed Kauri Park. A peaceful, half-hour stroll followed the Hatea River until I reached the kauri park, which they call a “canopy walkway” which actually didn’t include that many kauris (a giant, ancient tree valued for its gum during the nineteenth century). I found another waterfall—Pukenui Falls—in its midst, which I viewed from the top and then decided was worth a clamor through perhaps off-limits terrain to get a closer look.

 

Afterward, I walked another hour along country roads to find the Abbey Caves. These were the main attraction that made me want to visit Whangarei, not only because I haven’t gotten to explore too many caves, but also because of the glowworms (which are actually fly larvae) for which NZ caves are well-known. My hostel had rented me a headlamp, but I really didn’t want to go spelunking on my own (YES, mom and dad, I do listen to y’all), and by a great stroke of luck, I approached the Organ Cave at the same time as a family who had experience climbing through the cave. The dad invited me and a couple of other stragglers to join their party, and for the next two hours we all explored the Organ Cave—the biggest of the Abbey Caves, which extends 200m deep. Most of the cave was about 3-5m high and 2-4m wide, and much of it had freezing ankle-deep water. In some sections we all turned out our torches, and the ceiling of glowworms shone softly like a starry sky. The entire way, the rock to the sides was covered in striations from its ancient formation, and stalactites and stalagmites stuck out wherever they could fit. For some reason, my pictures kept coming out really dark, but here’s an image I did capture.

 

After this I chatted with the two other stragglers who had joined the family cave tour: two young Asian women on holiday from their seasonal work south of Auckland. It was almost 6pm, and when I told them I still had about 2 more hours on foot ahead of me, they very kindly offered to drive me to my remaining destinations. We then all went to the lookout at Mt. Parihaka, where we could overlook the city and western part of Whangarei Harbour. It was a nice view, but I admit that I would have been very annoyed if I had had to walk an hour uphill to see it. My new traveling acquaintances kindly returned me to my hostel when we’d all had enough of the lookout, and I think it took me all of twenty minutes to scarf down a peanut butter sandwich and collapse on my bed.

So, in a day I conquered riding a bus long-distance, and I walked and climbed for an entire afternoon. I also met a kind and adventurous local family, as well as fellow young travelers who were exceedingly generous with driving me around the town. Whangarei was exhausting, but I came away with better experiences than I anticipated. Check out all the pictures here.

December 6, 2013 Thanksgiving in NZ

Folks, I conquered the harbor. A couple of weeks ago I completed my second open-water swimming competition, which was a 2.4km race across the Waitemata Harbour just west of the Harbour Bridge. What an exhausting, but fun challenge! The water temperature felt quite pleasant, and I improved my pace from my first swim two weeks prior to finish third in the women’s non-wetsuit division. The only real drawback about the race was that once we completed the swimming portion, we had to climb a dozen slick stone steps to reach the finish line—which is tough to do when your muscles feel like jelly. For full disclosure, I’ve included very unattractive photos of myself just after I crossed the finish. I defy you to do a swim like that and be camera-ready.

 

Another challenge I flung myself into: baking a pie. On Thanksgiving, I mentioned to my host parents that it was the first time I was spending the holiday away from home, and they said, “We’ll have a Thanksgiving here, then! Tomorrow. Make a dessert.” I initially agreed to a pumpkin pie, but because that’s not a popular ingredient here, it’s not available in cans. Sweet potato pie, it would be then! I quickly found a simple recipe online, hit the local grocery store the following day, and nervously assembled the ingredients that evening. I must say it turned out better than I expected, but my family is full of talented kitchen-folk, so admittedly my standards are pretty high. My host family complimented it, and they made a wonderful meal, so I’m glad I could contribute something to our mini-Thanksgiving feast. 

I was glad to give a little culture back for all that I've taken in, particularly vocabulary. The latest:

• kumera – sweet potato. My host family and I had a debate about the differences among sweet potatoes, kumera, and yams—I had nothing to contribute other than a firm belief that they’re all delicious.
• tin – can (as in, “tinned tomatoes” instead of “canned tomatoes”)
• chilly bin - cooler
• singlet – tank top
• jandals – flip flops; a portmanteau of “Japanese sandals"
• togs – bathing suit
• arvo – afternoon
• wag – to cut class
• throw a wobbly – throw a tantrum. The girl I take care of will turn two in February, so I may become quite familiar with this…

It hasn’t really felt like the holiday season, of course, since it’s approaching summertime here. I’ve been wearing shorts and tank tops for most of the past month, which I find necessary not only because of the weather but because I still have to chase two kids around all day. In addition, central heating and air isn’t that common here, which means that when the weather is hot, you can’t always escape into the icy refuge of a building. Instead most places (including my host family) simply open the windows and doors, without worrying about screens, either, so we keep bug repellent and a flyswatter handy. This cultural difference still surprises me sometimes, but it really isn’t too bad; I have spent most of my summers sweating in the Georgia heat, y’all.

The weather also means I can spend time somewhere I love: the beach. Unfortunately I haven’t gotten to visit the sands as often as I’d like yet; I took the kids there for a short walk through the waves one afternoon, and I’ve gotten some quality time on the shore during my open water swims. However, I know I’ll have ample opportunity in the near future to sprawl out on a beach towel and listen to the surf. In addition to time on weekends to take some trips to the water, I should have opportunities around New Years to travel around, but I haven’t quite made up my mind where all I’d like to go.

a North Shore beach view of Rangitoto

I’m thrilled about all the exciting things I’ll get up to this summer!

—Lenora