Whew—what a busy month! I’ve started
off the New Year with heaps of delightful adventures.
First up was a tour around the harbor I
took with a few friends I met on the South Island trip. We hired a boat and
spent a few hours one evening motoring around the harbor, anchoring a few times
and jumping in to cool off from a warm summer day. The city lights up at night,
and taking in the colorful CBD from my vantage point in the calm water is the
best view I’ve ever beheld of the Auckland skyline. I’m so glad I got to see
another beautiful side to the city!
Scuba diving was the next undertaking I
tackled. I signed up for a PADI open water course with my friend Gina (a fellow
au pair from America), and we had a great time in the various classroom, pool,
and lake sessions over a two-week period. The course went very smoothly from
start to finish—just kidding, I almost died. During my first lake descent, a
loose fin spun me into a primal panic. One moment I was a couple meters from
the bottom of the lake, the next moment I was choking on water and couldn’t see
anything, and then after I realized I was breathing again, I suddenly found
myself on the lake’s surface with no fins or mask.
I’m not exactly sure what happened,
but I do know that I sort of owe my instructor my life since he’s the one who
realized I dropped my regulator (that really important thing that gets air to
your mouth) and got it working again. Hey, at least he’s got a great story to
tell future students who uneasy about diving, which begins with, “Well, there’s
no way you’ll have as terrible a dive as this one girl…” (You’re welcome, pal).
Other than that brief moment of idiocy, I actually did do well and enjoy the
course: I aced my written exam, felt very comfortable during the pool dives,
and had a blast in the murky depths of a local lake. Since there are apparently
loads of great diving spots in NZ, I’m already looking into a handful of nearby
spots to plan an open water scuba adventure—with diving buddies who will keep a
close eye on me.
Staying at the water’s surface seems
to be a safer aquatic adventure for me, and I completed two more open water
swims with my swim pal, Frank. The 3.2km Bean Rock Lighthouse swim came first,
where we competitors entered and exited in Mission Bay but swam out to an old
lighthouse (located on Bean Rock, go figure) in the harbor. I got fourth in the
women’s competition, although the results were not split into those who wore
wetsuits and those who, like me, did not—so while I’m not exactly sure how I fared,
I say officially that I think I did pretty darn well. The next day I swam a
whopping 3.78km from St. Heliers Bay across Mission Bay, and I came second in
the women’s non-wetsuit competition. At the end of it all I was exhausted, but
it always eases the suffering when I’m in beautiful surroundings. (photos) I’m
gearing up for a few more races—and one of them is even longer!
I have spent a little time out of the
water, though, and I’ve encountered some lovely folks from home and from NZ. A
longtime friend and fellow swimmer, Kelsey, recently married a Kiwi and just
moved to Auckland, so we met up for a coffee close to her new home that’s a
mere nine miles from my current address. Seeing such a familiar face in such a
foreign place was truly bizarre, but catching up with her and exchanging
stories about our experiences in this country certainly made my day. I also met
another girl from my home state: at a restaurant I heard our waitress’s North
American accent and inquired about her origins, and my jaw hit the floor when I
discovered she came from north Georgia and attended the same university as me
at the same time I did. Sometimes it really does feel like the farther you go
from home, the smaller the world gets.
The most recent adventure of late was
a live poetry performance. While I had never previously attended such a
function, I can only imagine that this one was better than any live poetry that’s
ever been on a stage in America. The man on the bill was Sam Hunt, whom a few
friends had conveyed as being some fantastic, legendary Kiwi poet. I bought my
ticket with the attitude that even if the show was no good, I could at least
get a taste of some NZ culture—and the show pleasantly surprised me. Hunt, a
lively and very Kiwi man in his sixties performed for an hour, making the
audience laugh, applaud, and quietly reflect. A vibrant but down-to-earth performer,
Hunt told stories about his experiences and about people he had known, and
while he obviously performed some poems that he had written, he also recited
poetry from other writers that held meaning for him and shaped the works he
created. I truly enjoyed the evening listening to him, and I think when I return
home and people ask me about the life and culture in NZ, I’ll have to include
Sam Hunt in order to explain fully what I found here.
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