Grant & Robin's Travels

Vietnam - Nha Trang, Dalat, and the Central Highlands

2011-08-26T13:15:00.000-07:00

First of all, if anybody is still reading this, thanks so much! Sorry I had blogger's block for so long. This was actually written back in January, and I am just now motivated to put it up. We have Nicaragua to report after this, and some climbing in the Tetons, so stay tuned, and check back every so often. If you want to see pictures of Nicaragua now, check out my new-ish blog Year-Thirty and click on the March archives.

Without further ado:

Vietnam

Me with Titi and our motorcycle

This last November/December I had a once in a lifetime opportunity to combine actual travel with my job. I took my ship over to Vietnam to the shipyard, and instead of flying straight home, I convinced the company to release me from their responsibility, and got a flight home 9 days later. This was my first time traveling in Asia, first time traveling without Grant since we met 10 years ago, and the first time traveling alone.

My ship in the dry dock. Notice the small people at the bottom of the dry dock!

The shipyard was about an hour and a half cab ride to the beach capital of Vietnam, Nha Trang… So this was my first stop after gleefully running down the gangway with the second mate who was also going to spend time in Vietnam. We shared a cab ride to town and a beautiful hotel that the second mate’s girlfriend had graciously reserved two rooms for us. For $50 I was across from the beach, had two comfortable queen sized beds (I only needed one), a big tv with many English channels, high speed wireless Internet, fantastically wonderful nice staff, and was across the street from a great microbrewery! Things were going to be good, I could tell. (Light Hotel Lonely Planet and Moon…put it in your books. Grrrr….)

Nha Trang Beach rainy season; women selling lobster on the beach

The next day was spent wandering around totally overwhelmed by the traffic (which is nothing compared to Saigon or Hanoi, from what I hear), motorbike taxi’s, and tours; “MOTOR BIKE, MOTOR BIKE, MOTOR BIKE!!!! Hey lady, MOTOR BIKE” Me: “no thank you, no thank you, NO THANK YOU STOP FOLLOWING ME!!!!!” I had to run back to the hotel and lie down for awhile, and panic stricken, left a note with my friend and colleague that I needed to meet him sooner rather than later as I was overwhelmed. I managed to get it together, hired a taxi for a ride to some old ruins, and then had a pleasant evening with my friend, where I was able to get a better outlook on life.

Cham towers on the hill; One of the chapels in the Cham Towers

Seeing as it was then rainy season, and super hot, I decided to book it up to the mountains to Dalat where I would be more comfortable with lower temps and fewer spring-break 20-somethings in bikinis. My friend had also planned to go there, but later, so we decided we would try to meet up later via e-mail. I grabbed a 5 hour bus ride through the reputable Sinh Café, got off the bus at their company hotel, looked at a room, and decided it was good enough for me. I opted for an upgrade to an $18 room (from $12) and got a comfortable full bed, window, tea service, private clean bath with all the toiletries including toothbrush and toothpaste, high speed wireless internet, breakfast, wonderful staff, in a safe neighborhood close to the central market. I didn’t even try to haggle, as for one, duh, and for two, it was less than what the guide book said it would be.

Dalat

Rooftops of Dalat Central Market

My first evening was spent wandering around town. Dalat is on a series of hills with winding, convoluted streets that I never got a handle on. I was slightly overwhelmed by the offers of motorbikes and “easy riders” offers, when all I really wanted was a beer and to take a deep breath. I accomplished this well enough, though almost had another breakdown.

The next day I went on a cheesy town tour with a group of Buddhist nuns from Singapore, a French guy, and some other Singapore tourists. Some of the things we saw were down right silly, such as the “Valley of Love”, but other stuff was really cool, like the silk embroidery center where women painstakingly stitch incredible pieces of art that look like paintings.

Woman working on silk embroidery art (see below); Giant Golden Buddha

Pencil drawing for silk embroidery; The finished silk "painting"

Awful Elephant Rides; Beautiful hanging flowers at Truc Lam Meditation Center

I really wanted to go on an “easy rider” tour, as I had read about how wonderful it is; just you and your guide on a motorcycle on the open roads. It was hard to tell who the “real” ones were, plus I was overwhelmed by offers, as I think I’ve mentioned a few times. I started walking with my guidebook to get a feel for the town and wrap my mind around the rest of my time, when up pulled a motorcycle. An American tourist got off the back and was all smiles. The driver suggested we talk, then left me alone. I asked the tourist if he had a good time, did he feel safe, and would he recommend this guide? Yes, yes, yes. So with his reassurance and the driver’s faded “easy rider” jacket, I up and hired Titi for a day trip the next day. The cost was to be…$20…for 8 hours.

Seeing as it was Thanksgiving in America, the tourist from Portland and I decided to have a few rounds and dinner, to which he was so happy to see another American on Thanksgiving, that he insisted on paying. It was fun, plus I got to play with the owner’s nephew, who taught me how to write my name (I was missing the appropriate accents) and then painstakingly taught me how to pronounce his name. It was a lot of fun. My new friend offered to walk me home. I said no thanks, and he didn’t push it. I should have taken him up on the offer, as I was still pretty turned around, and it took me a good 20 minutes (a long time when you’re half in the bag in a strange country at night and don’t speak one word of the language), but I made it back just fine.

Thien teaching me Vietnamese at the original Peace Cafe

The next morning Titi was waiting for me at 0800 sharp. He handed me a helmet started the engine, and indicated for me to get on. “Uh…Where do I put my hands?” He confidently patted his sides and said I could steady myself right there. Duh. I just felt weird as I was on the back of a motorcycle with some strange man, but it is the norm, so I hopped on and off we went.

Me riding on the back of the motorcycle with Titi

Once we were out of the traffic of the city, which scared the crap out of me, I had the most incredible time of my life, short of when I used to jump out of airplanes. It’s hard to explain, but I felt so free, with the wind in my face with a totally open view of the world, plus I didn’t have to drive! At one point he stopped, pointed up the hill, and told me to walk to the top, then down the other side where he would pick me up. Uh…What? Hmmm…Ok, I guess I’ll take myself on a hike. I knew he would probably be there, as I hadn’t paid him yet, but still breathed a sigh of relief when I found him waiting for me as he said. At another point he pulled over, and told me to start walking down the road. He said he would pick me up further down the road. He patted his butt saying I must “rest my bum”. Makes sense I guess, but still a little disconcerting to walk alone down the road in the middle of nowhere. Of course, there was no reason to worry.

Me overlooking "coffee forever"; Dalat agriculture

He showed me many things like coffee plants, some local indigenous villages, took me on a hike to a waterfall, a buddist temple, silk factory, broom factory, rice noodle factory, and it went on and on. When I say factory, I mean a small room or backyard in somebody’s shack of a home. That’s how Vietnam is, small-scale production, truly made by hand products that are sold within the local community. It was awesome. Unfortunately, my camera battery died, so I don't have pics of a lot of this stuff, not to worry though because...

Drying coffee by walking through it; coffee machine separating the hull from the bean

Coffee drying in the sun; a coffee bean deconstructed

Titi next to a robusta coffee plant; Silk machine weaving silk threads into cloth

Silk machine unraveling silk from the cocoon; closeup of feeding silk cocoon threads into machine

It was so awesome that I hired him to spend three more days driving me back to Nha Trang!

By this time my friend and co-worker had made it to Dalat and had spent a day touring the town himself. We met for dinner where I tried to convince him to go on the motorcycle trip with me. He would have none of it, though I implored him to reconsider. Alas, it was just me and Titi.

Dalat Central Market at night; Dragon Fruit

First thing in the morning, I was handed a new helmet with a face shield, and was told we had brand new tires. Off we went.

We saw so much stuff, it’s hard to list it all. Some of it included a tofu factory, the dragon pagoda, back to the silk factory at my request, more coffee, etc.. We were heading towards Lak Lake. We saw more beautiful scenery, mostly green coffee plantations. Some parts we traveled through, Titi explained, had only recently opened up for travel as there was much unrest amongst the ethnic minorities and government. Unrest meaning gun fights. The government wizened up, apparently, and provided them with food, some work, and basic infrastructure. So now travel is possible for easy riders to ply their trade. Lucky me!

River; road/river-side fish monger

Passion fruit canopy; boy who sold us passion fruit right off the tree

Raising silk worms in random ethnic minority house; Titi giving "ethnic minority" children candy (so they will pose for tourist photos. beans, rice, and coffee drying

Person smoking tobacco; example of an ethnic minority house. The circular basket is used for silk worms

A differest style "ethnic minority" house, on stilts; Cows and other livestock live under these houses

At one point, in the jungle, he stopped, handed me some passion fruit, and told me to start walking and he would meet me down the road. Of course I was used to these “bum rest stops” which are a great idea, but still… I started laughing out loud as I was in the middle of the jungle, walking down a road alone. I mean, really. What would my mother say? (turns out she assumed I would be doing stuff like this, so go figure).

Soon after that walk, it started to rain. Then it really started to rain. Out came the rain gear, and we pressed on. At one point it started raining so hard we absolutely had to pull over for lunch and wait it out. I was still upbeat, and having a good time.

Titi in rain gear pushing our ride with "ethnic minority taxi" coming down the road; floating home. These are more common in the Mekong Delta

We made it to Lak Village at sunset. I walked through the village, the sun quickly setting, and a big group of children on the back of a “ethnic minority taxi” started cheering, waving, and gesturing at me to take their picture.

Titi picked me up on the other side and off we went to the hotel on the lake. Titi and I had dinner together, I drank some beers, and passed out.

Lak Lake!

The next morning, after a nice breakfast, we hopped on the bike for another day of cruising. It was raining pretty hard again. After stopping in at some more ethnic minority homes, we hiked in the rain to some waterfalls in the jungle. I went over a bridge that I had no business trusting with my life, but hey, I was on an adventure wasn’t I?

I felt so umcomfortable paying to pose with people!; Inside the house. The floors are bamboo, so extrememely strong despite what looks like gaps. This particular village makes their own booze traditionally, and that is what goes in those vases

The bad bridge; the good bridge

Close up of part of the bad bridge; one of the waterfalls

Speaking of bridges, at one point we pulled over. There were two bridges: one was the main street that cars and motorcylces were going over, and the other was an unused old war-era concrete structure. Titi indicated I should walk over the old bridge and he would meet me on the other side. I was confused, and asked again which bridge I should walk over. He gestured again, and lined me up for the old bridge. Well, what the hell. So I started walking. I was half-chased by a dog past some little roadside shops, went up over a small hill right before the bridge, and started sliding down the other side. I stopped sliding just in time to avoid the huge hole at the start of the bridge. Confused but still feeling adventurous, I thought I could probably jump that far, but looking at the rest of the bridge, and thinking to myself that I didn’t really want to die on my adventure, said “Fuck This” to anybody who was listening, turned around, and headed for the real bridge. And there was Titi, waiting for me on the modern bridge half way across. I will ever know if I misunderstood him, or if he saw me turning back and hustled over to meet me. Either way, we carried on, and I did not cross that bridge!

After stopping at a brick factory; a place on the side of the road where some guy was making stone blocks out of granite by hand;

and seeing many more beautiful vistas (mostly coffee), we made in to Buon Me Thoun (boon-meh-toon). Buon me Thon is the capital of the Central Highlands famous for the coffee grown in the surrounding hills (that we had just spent three days driving through). Exhausted, I asked if maybe I could spend some time alone that night. Titi reluctantly agreed I could have dinner by myself.

Random tree alter in Buon me Thon ; evening market scene in Buon Me Thon

Luckily there was a vegetarian restaurant nearby so I wouldn’t need Titi to help me with ordering (he found me great, real vegetarian food at every roadside place we stopped at, including Pho!).

First I wanted a beer, so I wandered down the street and went to what looked like a hip bar. I sat down, and tried to order a beer. In what was a hilarious exchange of me pointing at the beer I wanted, Saigon Red, and trying to order water, them telling me they were out, me getting out the phrase book, I ended up with a cup of hot water and the beer I wanted in the first place that they said they were out of. Who really knows. Buon Me Thoun in not in any way on the tourist track despite being a big hub, so absolutely nobody I ran into spoke English. The teenagers who were serving me gestered for my phrase book, and attempted to converse in English with me. They were way better than I was at Vietnemese. It was fun, but being teenagers, they grew annoyed with me pretty quickly. I drank my beer, didn’t order another, and left for the vegetarian restaurant.

Happily seated surrounded by posters of famous people who had either eaten there or were vegetarian(?) I happily started pointing at things to order. As soon as I got my tea, in popped Titi. He saw me, and came over to say hello. I asked if he would join me, he said no, he was eating somewhere else, but he would see me later. I finished my meal, waited and waited, didn’t see him, so shrugged and got up to leave. As soon as I had my coat on, Titi popped in again to escort me back to the hotel. Apparently he was watching me, probably all night, to keep me safe. I asked him if he wanted to grab a beer with me. He said “I think better you get beer to go for hotel” Fine. My chaperone, under no circumstances, was going to let me have fun. But hey, why did I hire him in the first place? We got some beers, he walked me to the hotel, then insisted I go to my room. He sat in the lobby and watched me go up the stairs. I have a feeling he sat there for hours making sure I didn’t sneak out. I like to think he was concerned for my safety because he cared about me, but I think really it was because I hadn’t paid him yet…

After a fitful night of no sleep, I got up at 6 and went down for coffee frowning at the rain. Titi was up having coffee too. We ordered breakfast, and more coffee, both staring at the rain outside. Titi was on his cellphone constantly. He got me chatting with a fellow driver about my job (everybody was suitably impressed I was an officer on big ships). Eventually Titi looked at me and said that “maybe it would be better you take bus to Nha Trang. Too much rain, you uncomfortable”. I was shocked, though he was right, I was pretty weary of the rain and I was tired, but I told him I wanted to finish the trip. He made some more phone calls, then again said I should take the bus. He then said the roads very well could be flooded. I tried asking him if it was safe, or if he was just afraid I was uncomfortable. The nuance of what I was asking escaped him, and he said fine, we will ride. He made another call, and said the roads might be ok. I thought to myself “Only an idiot would ignore her guide’s advice about taking a bus instead of a motorcycle because the roads were flooded” But hey, I was on an adventure and I loved the motorcycle.

Off we went. First, instead of wrapping my feet in plastic bags like the day before, he instructed me to wear my sandals instead. The whole time I had been wearing shoes as I did not want to risk harm to my feet. I complied though. Soon enough he pulled over and started shopping for rubber boots for himself! I’m like, oh shit. By this time we were a half hour out of town. We started off again, but I remembered my “only an idiot” thoughts, tapped him on the shoulder, and asked him to take me back to the bus station.

That was the biggest mistake of my trip.

After a tearful farewell at the bus station, I boarded my bus. The ride was awful. The driver was jerking around, slamming on the breaks almost crashing several times. I felt much safer on a motorcycle than on the bus! Plus, the roads were clear, and it even stopped raining. I was heart broken. Plus the scenery was stunning, but I couldn’t get pictures as I was in the fucking bus. No culture, no factory tours, no war stories, no pictures, just a crappy bus ride back into the hot lowlands.

Thank you Titi!

I forced myself to have a pleasant afternoon souveneir shopping and saying goodbye to Nha Trang.

I will always regret not finishing my ride, but will cherish the 3 days plus a morning I rode with Titi through the Central Highlands of Vietnam. It is an adventure I recommend to everybody, though maybe it would be better in the dry season

Hard to write a Travel Blog when you haven't traveled.

2010-10-26T17:47:00.000-07:00

If anybody is still reading this, I thank you for your continued interest and support! It’s been a while since I last blogged. Honestly, since the theme of it is “our travels”, it’s hard to write when we haven’t traveled. Oh sure, I’ve been to sea. I went to Hawaii and back on the Alaska run, but I’ve already written about that. Plus, nothing exciting happened. Don’t get me wrong, that’s the way I like it. The more boring the trip, the better the trip was for me. But like all media outlets, only sensational stories will hold the attention of my intended audience. My trip to Alaska would have read “calm seas, nice people, no accidents, we were on time.” Yeah, pretty lame. Same with the Hawaii run: “the weather was nice, I played some pickle ball with the Captain, spent a lot of money on taxis in Honolulu, went home.” Real interesting.

I did go back to Jackson Hole this September, but I already did a “September is my favorite month” article (still is). I had a great time, but I did all the same things I blogged about last September. What's to write about then?

We bought a house when we got back from Mexico. It’s wonderful and it has been fun meeting all our great neighbors while remodeling the garage.

But being a homebody is hardly conducive to writing a travel blog. It’s been interesting preparing our neighbors for our lifestyle. We spent a long time talking about our career, but when it came time for us to go to sea (at different times of course) they were all shocked to hear how long Grant and I would be away from each other. Literally a few days would go by, and they would ask me if Grant was coming home soon. Uh…No. He just left. Yesterday one neighbor peered into my eyes, hand on my shoulder, and asked if I was ok…but really are you ok? She doesn’t understand that Grant and I have been leaving each other for months on end for 10 years. She truly wanted to make sure I wasn’t sad or having a hard time. It is hard to say goodbye, but I think our neighbors are having a harder time adjusting than we ever did! But that’s the great thing about our new house. Our neighbors are awesome! They all care about us, and we all watch out for each other. I have never lived in a place where so many open and kind people live so close together. We are damn lucky.

Right, but back to the “Travel” part of this travel blog. I’m turning 30 in a few months, and I decided that I have a lot of goals for year 30. So let me lay out some of my plans and goals for 2011 and hopefully I’ll report back on all of them:

- Rafting through the Grand Canyon. This is actually my father-in-law’s long time goal, but we’re going to make it happen this summer.

- Go to Rocky Grass. We have both been at sea for this fun Colorado bluegrass festival for far too many years, and we will not miss it this year!

- Travel to India…or somewhere in Asia. I’ve been to Asia many times on my ships, but I’ve never traveled there for fun. I have not met people outside of the stinking, ugly, mean container terminals and port towns I go to. I do not have a fair view of this region of the world, as longshoremen and sailors generally don’t accurately represent any society, and I would like to open my mind to the culture and people.

- I want to climb Middle Teton. It’s not mountaineering per se, but is about twice as far as I’ve ever hiked before and would be my first real summit.

-Speaking of, I’m going to do some backpacking in the Tetons. I’ve done countless day hikes, but have never been fit enough to get really deep into those mountains.

-I want to take my boat on an actual boat trip. I’ve had it in the Puget Sound for seven years for the purpose of sailing around the islands, and I have never done it. What a shame, and I’m going to change that this year.

So this is the start of my list. It’s going to be a busy summer, so I’ll have to get going on this stuff. Wish me luck and please check back. In the mean time, here are some pictures of the Tetons. I never get bored of them, and neither should you. Please, if you have any questions about going to sea, please leave a comment and I will try my best to write about it.

Mexico Part 3 teaser

2010-05-03T19:22:00.000-07:00

OK, I am sorry it has been a while before finishing the blog about our awesome trip to Mexico. I am in port right now, so instead of going too in-depth, I'm going to throw a whole bunch of pictures up with some captions, and assure you that we had a fantastic time! Without further ado....

Oaxaca - The Ruins

There is a lot of neat, ancient history in and around Oaxaca. The cool thing about the ruins here, they are not totally overrun by tourists like the Yucatan or many other places in Mexico and Central America we've been. Although now that the word is getting out, I will not be surprised if things change very soon.

MITLA -

Mitla is a small town in the valley that never really stopped living with the old Zapotec structures. You can't dig a hole in anybody's yard without finding artifacts, and the old structures butt right up against the currently-used ones. No jungle or massive agriculture overwhelmed this area as it has been continuously inhabited. As is common all over Mexico, when the conquistadors made it to this spot, they tore down the old temples and used the materials to build the town's new Catholic church. Out with the old, in with the new, whether you like it or not! They do like it now as they are mostly Catholic, but the people here also maintain their old language, many not even speaking Spanish, and are very proud of their ancestry. Here are some pictures of Mitla.

Here is the heart of the town, as in most Mexican towns, the Catholic church. As mentioned above, it is built with the stones of the Zapotec temple, a hard message to miss!

And here is the back of the church where you can see the thousand-years-old structures still built into the walls of the church. Unbelievable.

More of the site.

These patterns are unmistakably Mitla by design, and are found incorporated into modern Oaxaca folk art and tapetes, including one of ours. After visiting this site, then shopping for rugs, we shouted out in recognition "Mitla! Es Mitla, no?" Si. Yes. Unique to these particular people in this tiny town. Really fun.

And in these lesser known sites, you can climb right into the tombs! Awesome!

Monte Alban -

Monte Alban is the most significant site in Oaxaca. The site is impressive, sitting atop a mountain with panoramic views of the valley. They basically leveled the top, built these pyramids and structures, then the rest of the town and agriculture spread out down towards the valley in terraced hillsides, much like today (though the main town is on the valley floor, not the top of the mountains!)

Besides the awesome views and beautiful site, nobody is here! We went on a Sunday when it was free to all Mexicans, and there still weren't very many people there. Incredible. Absolutely incredible.

One Monte Alban structure.

The main site of Monte Alban

The valley as seen from Monte Alban

One of the great things about Monte Alban is the superb museum located in Oaxaca city. A lot of artifacts and art pieces excavated from the Monte Alban ruins are still there in the local museum. Incredible pieces of gold, an intricate jade-covered skull, old pottery etc. There is also a great exhibit about the excavation of the archeological site as well. We really enjoyed touring the ruins, and later in the week looking through the museum for a more full understanding of the significance of the site and it's history.

THE BEACH
And we went to the beach. The beach in Oaxaca state was so nice, so perfect, that I refuse to tell you where it was, because then it will be overrun by high-rise gringo hotels and all the nice palapas will disappear. You will have to find your own beach, but this was ours:

Last but not least, we left the Oaxaca area for Cancun to meet up with Grant's sister and brother-in-law for more beach time on the Yucatan peninsula. I hate to give this section so little time, as it was the time of my life. We had such a great time, and it was really hard to leave. This was not so much a cultural experience, though we always strive to meet the locals, but was mainly a fantastic beach vacation. We spent a lot of time in Tulum, a nearby secluded bay, and at various cenotes. Cenotes are fresh water swimming holes (well, actually spiritual places) that are a result of the catastrophic meteor impact of the area. The meteor impact apparently knocked a bunch of holes into the limestone plateau of the penninsula. The resulting holes filled up with the rain water and the occasional underground river system. The cenotes are open, semi open, underground, and the type right next to the beach that feed into ocean. Very cool. I'll come back and speak more about this section, but for now, enjoy some pictures.

Mexico 2010 - Part 2 - Oaxaca Crafts

2010-03-28T20:35:00.000-07:00

Oaxaca – The Crafts

Some of our stuff!

One of the main draws to the Oaxaca region is the beautiful folk art. Much of it is now made specifically for the tourism trade, but that makes it no less beautiful, and it does all have cultural roots. As mentioned before, this is not kitsch stuff (though kitsch versions can be found). As a rule, it is all hand-made from natural local materials, and unique to certain villages, or groups of villages spreading out to the valleys surrounding the city of Oaxaca.

Our first foray into the craft world, besides being overwhelmed by the markets in the city, was to take a little tour that brought us to see the famous black pottery of Dona Rosa, and the alebrijes of Reyna y Zeny Fuentes. The tour sort of sucked because they only took us directly to those shops, and we did not get to see the towns. However the shops they took us to clearly produce some of the best work.

BARRO NEGRO (ba-roll the R- oh Nae-gro)

The workshop of Dona Rosa - Dona Rosa passed away in the 80's

The shiny black pottery is a unique method developed by an old woman named Dona Rosa back in the 50's that produces an ebony black shine on the pieces without the use of glaze or chemicals. The clay they use is unique to their village of San Bartolo Cayotepec, and something similar is only found in one other place in the world, somewhere in the United States’ Southwest. When fired the traditional way, the terracotta clay turns a matte gray and is super hard. It even sounds like metal when you beat on it with a stick. Before cheap Walmart-style plastic containers came around, this craft was exclusively used by the indigenous Zapotec people for carrying water, eating and storing food ,etc…for thousands of years. (The same pottery style and clay sourced from this village can be found in various ruins including Monte Alban and Mitla!) There was not much of a commercial market for their work until Dona Rosa came up with the technique of making it glossy black by using quartz crystal to polish the dried ceramic, and then firing it for a shorter time and lower temperature to produce this beautiful pottery. The funny thing about doing this is despite how it looks, it does not hold water when polished, so is of a purely decorative nature. Plus, it is not nearly as strong as the original method, as we found in our box of stuff we shipped home. Too bad. That Jaguar head was really cool before it broke!

Dona Rosa's Son (or grandson? She was really old when she died in the 80's)
Demonstrates the whole process)

The pottery is hand-built, shaping by hand and using large coils

Notice no pottery wheel is used. They put what's basically two inverted shallow bowls on each other to assist with turning by hand. They accomplish the perfect shapes and even roundness purely by hand with a seemingly innate ability. (In truth, they have been doing this since childhood, so they have a lot of practice!)

The detail work is done using a variety of very basic tools.

The last step before firing is to tediously polish the dried piece with quartz crystal.
This whole process actually takes several weeks, not five minutes like in this demo!

ALEBRIJES (Al-lay-bree-hays)

Cute little Rabbits

The alebrijes are whimsical beasts carved out of wood, dried, then painstakingly painted using the needle of the cactus for the detail dot work. The good pieces are all carved from a single piece of wood, so no glue or nails here kiddos. Though now they are mainly created for tourists, originally they were created to represent each person’s totem, assigned to them at birth (or something. Look guys, we’re not wikipedia. Just going by memory of our crappy Spanish skills, so don’t yell at us if this is wrong. Just enjoy our story.)

The men carve the objects (they claim they have the hard job)

This will be a spectacular piece when complete. It is all carved from a single piece of wood.
He did NOT glue the baby onto the back!!!

The women paint the alebrijes. Her daughter helps, but mom does the fine work. Even the designs on the beasts themselves have meaning, such as representing the sea, the sky, the earth, and something else. The sun might be the center, with the moon and sky above. We didn't get too deep into what it means when, but it's all symbolically painted onto the beasts according to your totem (or whatever you like as the tourist!)

They had much to chose from, and it was not cheap!

TAPETES - (Tah-pae-tae's)

Robin with "The Maestro" Isaac Vasquez Garcia at their home and shop
"The Bug in the Rug"
The tapete was actually made by his son.

The third art form we were very interested in was the art of weaving wool throw-rugs, called “TAPETES”. The Zapotec Indians specialize in this craft in and around Teotitlan. It is not an original art form. The technique is from Spain and they were forced into doing it as slaves to tithe to the ilks of Cortes, but they continued the craft incorporating Zapotec designs and meaning into their work. We actually got to take the chicken bus to Teotitlan and walk around. It’s just like the guidebooks say; you can walk around and see the looms in people’s homes. When they see you peeking through the door, they will often invite you in, show you the loom, and demonstrate the process. The home we went to was totally a family affair, with the young child, maybe 7, spinning wool into yarn, while the father was weaving. Now, before you get your panties in a knot about child labor, it was after siesta, so the kids were home from school, and the child got to run around in circles playing, then run back to the spinner and spin a little more yarn, run for a snack, spin some yarn, laugh at the gringos, do a little more work. This is not China people, and like it or not, this is how most families make their living in this particular village. In fact, each of the senior members of the family had their own loom and each loom had a work-in-progress of their own design. Each would weave for a few hours a day in addition to whatever else they did to keep the house running i.e. cooking, cleaning, working etc.

A little about the beautiful colors of these rugs. The dyes us all natural ingredients. The stunning reds and maroons come from the insects (cochinilla) that live naturally on the cactus plant. The little larvae, or whatever, live in white cocoon-like bits, and when you smear the bugs, they make the beautiful red. Then when you add other ingredients, such as lime, water, or lye, it changes to different shades of red, even to a dark maroon, almost brown color. A nice person at a different shop (Artesanias Gonazlez, all organic) demonstrated this to us on Grant’s hand. I mean, we watched him scrape this white stuff off the cactus on to his hand, squeeze the lime, etc… Well hell. Here are the pictures:

This is the cochinilla on the cactus

After scraping some onto Grant's hand, he rubbed it quickly with his finger producing this bright red smear.

He added some lime, to make it a brilliant red, then added water and lye to show the different shades of red it turns.

Here is a close-up of the different colors. Grant's hand was stained for days!

The green, yellow, and blue all come from plants. The blue is really cool. They take it from this plant here, boil it, concentrate it, and then dry it to these indigo chunks.

The plant that makes blue/indigo

Chunks of blue dye, made from the above plant

All the natural products used to dye the wool. From the top clockwise:
Blue, black, yellow, insects for red, then a salt that sets the colors (I think).

Each batch of yarn is different, though they try to match colors. Obviously you can use the same batch of dye to make progressively lighter shades of color. We made our first purchase from a shop in Oaxaca city from a women’s collective, then stopped by the Maestro’s house. As much as we love our first rug, the Maestro’s work, and that of his family’s, was noticeably finer quality, and I had to have another. The Maestro has been featured in museums around the world, in National Geographic, and a variety of other magazines. We met him ourselves, and he graciously showed us the whole process.

Yarn drying

The Maestro's loom. His work is much, much more intricate and fine than the products
other people graciously demonstrated for us. All are beautiful though.

There were a few other weaving specialties, such as for tablecloths, curtains, that sort of thing, but we purchased the above products. We have never bought souvenirs of any type in our travels, so I think it says a lot about the quality and beauty of the products made around Oaxaca.

This three part series is going to be a four part series because I just could not fit the ancient ruins and coast into this post. Please bear with me, as we’re really busy trying to be a grown up right now, so get a little behind on our work. We love Mexico and are really excited about this last trip, so more is on its way!

Mexico 2010 - Part 1 - Oaxaca City

2010-03-20T12:49:00.000-07:00

Oaxaca –

In case you were unfamiliar, Mexico is actually the United Mexican States, or in Spanish “Estados Unidos Mexicanos”. There are 31 states, of which Oaxaca is one. Oaxaca is hard to get to as it is surrounded by mountains and ocean. Because of this, Oaxaca was and still is virtually ignored by the rest of Mexico. This allowed Oaxaca to develop their culture, food, crafts, and politics quite independently from other influences. Of course, being ignored also made them one of the poorest and more illiterate states in the country. This is especially true for the Indian populations, many of whom still speak their native language and do NOT speak Spanish. The two major native groups in Oaxaca are the Zapotec and Mixtec, though there are approximately 14 other unique indigenous groups in Oaxaca with distinct languages and cultures. The people of Oaxaca make some of the most beautiful and world-renowned crafts in Mexico. We are not talking kitsch here. They also have great coffee, wonderful chocolate, and tons of moles (food sauces, not rodents), and a lot of headache producing Mezcal, similar to tequila.

The City –

Ciudad Oaxaca is a beautiful city, and as I’ve seen in all my Mexico travels, a city of contradictions. You cannot throw a stick without hitting a 16th century cathedral, whether crumbling, or fully restored, or somewhere in between. All are full places of worship, so you must pay attention when taking pictures so as not to disrespect the more pious visitors. (Grant and I forgot that people like to go to church on Saturdays as well as Sundays. Oops.) Despite the grand architecture and bold blooming flowers and gardens, these beautiful cathedrals are surrounded by crumbling buildings and homes patched together with scrap tin, with very visible poverty at the entrances to all these important Catholic establishments.

In my opinion, the most beautiful cathedral in Oaxaca, which can be seen from our panoramic view above and from is Catedral Santo Domingo.

According to the Wikipedia, it took 200 years to build, starting in the mid 1500’s. It also now contains a great cultural museum. Though it is a huge tourist draw, the Church itself is not a museum, and is still used for worship.

We even saw a huge traditional wedding in it. We are assuming they were from a very elite Oaxaca family, as it seems like it would be very cost-prohibitive to rent this huge, colonial Cathedral for the average Joe.

The main Catedral de Oaxaca lies at the base of the Zocalo (every town has a Zocalo, which is the town square and center of social and cultural activity). It is pretty cool, only built in the early 1700’s as the first couple churches were destroyed in earthquakes.

Typical night on the Zocolo

We saw several other Cathedrals, most stumbled upon while strolling the streets. As a recovering Catholic, I was afraid I would be struck down by lightning, so did not linger.

Oaxaca has a lot of great regional food, but also has a lot of creative and international options. Funny enough, like the rest of us in our own home towns, locals like to venture out to try other cuisines too, LOL. It’s ok. Don’t feel bad if you eat a little pizza and have a glass of wine while visiting international cities like Oaxaca. Really, there are only so many tacos and quesadillas one can eat in three weeks!

THIS:

PLUS THIS:

EQUALS: MEZCAL!

By the way, did I mention how safe I felt in the city? Keep in mind ladies, wherever you are in the world especially Mexico, always dress conservatively. I.E., it’s best to wear pants or long skirt and avoid tank tops. Shorts are for the beach. Also, swallow your feminist pride, and pretend your boyfriend is your husband, try not to venture out in the evening without him or your best friend, and always smile and be polite (except when saying a strong “no” to unwelcome men trying to lick your hand), and you will largely avoid unwanted advances and Machismo, or angry looks from the grandmothers. Keep in mind, men, that no matter how tough you think you are, there are certain bars you just do not go into. They are easy to tell because on Sunday mornings, they are crowded with loud drunk men, and you cannot see into them. By following these little rules, Grant and I have largely avoided trouble in conservative Latin American countries.

This is just an introduction. I will talk about the crafts and coast of Oaxaca in the next post, and also offer up a tid-bit of the relaxing drinking part of our vacation on the Carribbean coast of the Yucatan Peninsula in the state of Quintana Roo(probably the best name for a state ever).

Cheers.

"Best Day Ever", or "How I Became a Baby-Person Convert, Sort Of"

2010-01-30T15:18:00.001-08:00

PROLOGUE:

The week Grant and I returned from New Zealand, I met my best friend for coffee at her new house. She made a pot, poured me a cup, then poured herself an ice-cold glass of…water. Before I could say anything she started explaining, “Ok ok. The reason I am not drinking coffee is because I’m pregnant. I wanted to wait a while longer before telling you, but I knew you would be suspicious that I wasn’t drinking coffee”. Ok. I just assumed she was all “coffee’d out” for the day, but was happy enough to hear the news. Congratulations!

EIGHT MONTHS LATER, THEREABOUTS

Let’s just say the little one was quite comfortable and in no hurry to meet this cold world. Despite waiting as long as they could, an induction was finally ordered, and the new due date set. After celebrating my dad’s birthday early on Wed, my parents drove me up to their house 15 hours into A’s labor, and I waited for news. The next morning, with no news, I carpooled into the hospital with my mom, who is a doctor there, so I could have her car for the day. At 0830 my mom walked me over to the birthing center, buzzed me in with her badge (I know. That’s cheating), and as we were looking for a nurse to ask about the labor, out walked the beaming Dad, proud grandparents and uncle pushing a cart. They whispered “look at the new baby”. I looked down and the little one took my breath away. The tears caught in my throat as I slowly began to comprehend who I was looking at. They invited me into the post delivery room to await Mommy. An hour or so later, after recovering a bit from the emergency C-section, in wheeled Mom, who just erupted into tears at the sight of her child. That brought Dad to tears, and everybody else in the room as well. They took the baby out of his pajamas, and laid him on her breast where he immediately went to work. It was the most intense, beautiful moment I have ever witnessed, and it will be with me for the rest of my life.

A few hours after the delivery, I left them with the promise of coming back later when they had time to rest and settle in. My dad called, who’s actual birthday was also that day, to say my uncle Jimmycakes had flown in with his four-year-old granddaughter to the local airstrip. We met for lunch, and Dad mentioned that I should go for a plane ride with my uncle. My first reaction was “Hell yeah, that would be awesome!” So after finishing my celebration beer, it was off to the airstrip to hop in a tiny Cessna with a person who’s skills were perhaps dubious, but hell. My cousin lets her child fly with him, so he must be a good ‘nuf pilot. So off we went. I was really excited as it was bringing back old skydiving memories. Plus, I had never seen my hometown from a low flying plane. Talk about a totally different perspective. I thought that this was the perfect way to celebrate life, and I got some pretty cool pictures too.

Anacortes, Rosario Strait, San Juan Islands

Swinomish Channel, North end looking south

LaConner, WA my home town. Rainbow bridge, south end of Swinomish Channel. Left side is the mainland, right side is Fidalgo Island.

Deception Pass

Deception Pass Bridge

The landing was pretty good, though my uncle said that the alarm just before we touched down was an indication we were going a touch too slow. This caused the landing to be a little harder than usual, not that I noticed. I don’t usually ride down with the plane anyway. Without further ado, they put the child car seat back up front, strapped my cousin’s daughter in, and flew off into the sunset.

Back at the hospital, my friend looked a lot better. The baby was still guzzling from his nature-provided “juice box”. When he was done, they let me hold him for about an hour. He just slept, all swaddled up like a mummy in my arms. What felt like a small little bundle at first, soon grew heavy, and I was utterly amazed all 9lbs 9.8oz, and 22inches had been residing inside my best friend 9 hours earlier. Boy is she tough! Toughest lady I’ve ever met. (Her husband didn’t pass out, so he’s pretty tough too…for a guy.)

I would consider January 28, 2010 one of the best days of my life, so I can only imagine how my best friend feels. Never having been a baby person, I was totally unprepared for the waves of emotion that came over me that day. I feel privileged to have been there, and thank A and J for letting me into their lives that day.

Here’s to living the good life!

p.s. Happy Birthday Dad!

"Winter in Alaska", or "They Don't Pay Me Enough for this Shite"

2010-01-13T10:25:00.000-08:00

Since we lost several ships to other ports, the core of Grant and my jobs out of Seattle/Tacoma are on the domestic runs either to Hawaii, and more significantly, Alaska. In 2009 I worked exclusively on the Alaska run. Though I had been invited back to “my” ship several times since my first trip the spring of 2007, I have been hesitant to due to the a really bad day I described in a previous post. The truth is, I can’t turn down work if I’m going to pay my mortgage and eat. And also, truth be told, these ships going to Alaska are pretty good pay. I also really like the people I work with on this particular ship. They have become the closest to “family” I have had on any of these ships, and there is a lot of camaraderie amongst we Alaska-run people.

In many ways the run to Anchorage, Kodiak, and Dutch Harbor is not particularly difficult as there is very little traffic, we get home a few times a month, and everybody speaks English. But in many ways, this run is much more difficult than picking your way through thousands of fishing boats or arguing with Shanghai pilots as they light a cigarette while colliding head on with an outbound ship.

The reason it is harder?

THE WEATHER SUCKS. Especially in November and April. Not to mention December, January, February, and March, and often May and June… When I joined the ship this last time, around Halloween, my watch partner started speculating about the weather in November. He, and others, mentioned that the really bad storms come with the transition seasons, particularly fall turning into winter, and winter turning to spring. I already experienced April/May with the worst day of my career back in 2007, and November 2009 also did not disappoint.

A day out of the Straits (Strait of Juan de Fuca, entrance to the Puget Sound, aka, the body of water that makes Washington State look funny, and separates the Olympic Peninsula from Vancouver Island, Canada) we found ourselves going straight into winds upwards of 50 knots with 40 foot seas. That’s about the height of my apartment building. We slowed down through the night to avoid pounding, to the point where we were in hand steering going 4 knots, basically hove to. We were not rolling much, as we were heading into the seas, but we had to be very careful, as the seas could punch the containers in, and we could risk incredible damage to our hull.

Same storm as the first picture

Our stern was completely underwater. We had a fire alarm go off in a space on deck, so we had to stop, and turn around about 90 degrees to make a lee for the Chief Mate to investigate. No fire, but the mate was able to snap this photo.

Last season large seas crumpled our huge steel breakwater like an old credit card bill. This year we tried to avoid that kind of damage.

Breakwater. The left side should not be creased like that

More bent steel on the back of the breakwater

Closeup look at crumpled steel.

We only punched in three containers, which is a miracle:

After seas like this:

Large seas like this actually break in the middle of the ocean. I wouldn't try surfing these though

When these 30ft+ seas break, they break containers too!

I never felt like I was in real danger like on other ships and other storms, but it definitely wasn’t pretty, and as little sleep as I got, the Captain hadn’t slept in days. He literally spent all day and night on the bridge. Ok, I know what your next question is going to be: “Isn’t the Captain always on the bridge anyway?” No! The Captain is not a watch stander. I am the Officer In Charge of the Navigation Watch, and the Captain is available when extra help is needed like in heavy traffic, or when transiting especially hairy pilotage areas. When the Captain is on the bridge all the time on the open ocean it means one of three things:(1) He is really obnoxious, (2) you are a crappy mate and he doesn’t trust you, or (3) the shit has hit the fan (or could if we are not careful). I assure you our Captain is not obnoxious nor does he think I'm a crappy mate. Because he was so dedicated to maneuvering the ship safely through the storm for days, we escaped major damage to the cargo, ship, and crew.

When not in huge North Pacific storms, the weather and other environmental factors in Alaska make it difficult to work. In Anchorage, it gets really, really cold. Cook Inlet around Anchorage gets ice anywhere from before October and into April, May, and beyond. The worst of course is in the dead of winter, when the Coast Guard institutes Ice Rules for shipping. These rules basically mean that the pilot and/or Captain must be aboard at all times, engines ready to go, and extra lines put out. The ice can, and has, gotten between the ship and dock and torn them off the dock. Ice doesn’t compress very well.

Ice. Not recommended between ship and dock.

When we are docking, we actually have to put the bow on the dock at an angle and either let the current move all the ice out of the way, or get a tug to come over and swish all the ice out with it’s prop, before we can come alongside.This makes for long, cold tieups. It sucks working outside for 8 hours in -20 degrees Fahrenheit (not Celsius. If only it were Celsius).

In addition to the ice, Anchorage has the second largest tidal range in the world. It regularly changes by 30 feet in a matter of six or seven hours. Again, that’s about the height of my apartment building. So picture sitting in your boat, or 700ft container ship, and suddenly finding yourself 30 feet higher a few hours later. It is as crazy as it sounds.This makes for a lot of unique problems while docking.

When docking soon after low tide, I literally cannot see the dock. I send my mooring lines UP instead of down like at most docks. I must rely on the Captain on the bridge looking down to tell me by radio when my spring lines are on the bollard. Also, the lines will get pinched between the dock and ship, so they often have to pull the ship off the dock in order for me to pull the lines tight, so we are flat alongside the dock. Confusing, no? The biggest safety issue while docking at such a low tide is that you don’t get your fingers, or head, caught between the ship and the dock stringers. Scary? Yes. Dangerous? Yes. It’s hard to describe, so hopefully these pictures help.

Nearly low tide. At high tide this deck is above the top of the dock. Here I am looking up 20 feet to the dock. Notice the yellow dock stringers? On the stern, if you stick your head out at the gaps, then the ship moves forward, you can be decapitated. Luckily, we have avoided that so far.

The large tides require this unique gangway. At high tide, the center of the gangway rests on the ship's helo deck. At low tide, it is a long, steep hike up and down. This helo deck is a deck above the main deck pictured above.

From the stern, low tide looking up 20-30 feet to the bollard

So after surviving the storms, the ice, and the tidal range of Anchorage, it’s off to Kodiak.

Blizzard outside Marmot Strait on the way to Kodiak. Zero visibility is not always due to fog!

In Kodiak our dock is not protected by a natural or man made breakwater, so our ship surges off the dock, even on a calm day. I mentioned before that my first trip up in 2007, we had a particularly bad day with high winds and a large surge, and we parted 8 lines. When a mooring line parts, if you are caught in the middle, you will be cut in half, and this does happen on occasion. The energy of the line parting can knock you down if you are near, even if the line itself does not hit you. I had a guy that was hit by a line not parting, but just slipping around the capstan, and the force of it broke his wrist in several places, and broke his hip. I had to call for an ambulance, get him into a safe place, and give him first aid. He was in so much pain that he though he had been cut in half. It was very scary, and the worst day of my career. I am very gun-shy around mooring lines now, especially in Kodiak.

Dutch Harbor does not have a surge, ice, or cold temperatures as Anchorage, but it does get hit by very large storms. Luckily we missed the storm that did this:

Gusts up to 125 mph knocked this huge gantry crane over at the APL dock in Dutch Harbor early December. Horizon Lines is servicing APL ships for now. They own an extra crane in this port and may sell it to APL, but it will still be a huge, expensive process no matter how you look at it.

Now that I am safely home, drinking my coffee in my pajamas, I can look at this two-month tour of duty as a success. Nobody was hurt, I made a few bucks, and I’m going to Mexico. Uno mas cerveza por favor!

Here is some really cool sea smoke, which I had never seen before!

It's cold, but we're still here!!!

2009-12-27T17:49:00.001-08:00

Approach to Kodiak, AK

Well, this isn't a real blog post, but I wanted to check in with everybody. I'm enjoying an adult beverage in Anchorage, where it is a balmy 34 degrees. It was so warm I had to take a layer off while running around on deck. Today I realized I have been on this Alaska run too long because I now consider anything in the low 30's to be warm. We had about 6 hours daylight today, though as we are past solstice, the days are getting longer. Traveling North from Seattle, the days are always getting shorter this time of year, so I don't notice this supposed phenomenon. I don't know how the Alaskans do it. The bitter cold, the darkness, the isolation. They all seem pretty cheerful and like good people, so who's to say? Then again, I'm in a brewery, so that might explain things!

November was a dreadful month, but as soon as fall turned into winter, the weather started cooperating with us...Though some other ships and docks didn't fare as well.

Stay tuned. Next week I'll fill you in on all my sea stories with plenty of gnarly pictures to boot. Thanks for keeping up with the blog!

Anchorage, AK (that's ice in the water)

p.s. As per usual, Grant shipped out right before I was due to come home. Luckily it was only a month relief, so we'll catch up with each other in a few weeks. Besides my sea stories, we have a lot going on in the next few months: My best friend is due with her (and all of our) first baby, Grant has some skiing in Jackson Hole to do, and we are planning a trip to Mexico with Grant's and my favorite sister and brother-in-law, with a bit of Missouri thrown in for good measure. Life is wonderful! (like I said, I'm in a brewery :)

Winter At Sea (Rougher Than You Think!)

2009-11-18T11:34:00.000-08:00

Yikes!!

   Here Be Monsters

Well it’s winter in the North Pacific Ocean and that means nasty weather. You know how when you’re watching the weather channel and they say the storm moved safely out to sea? Just remember that there are sailors out at sea in that storm. And guess what? ‘Safely out to sea’ for the landlubber means dangerously heavy weather imminent for the sailor. So let’s just think a safe thought for those caught in heavy weather at sea this winter.

   Actually a pretty nice day for those on the Ship

Robin sent me an email from her ship describing horrifying seas and high winds. I’ve been in some heavy weather myself and it makes my stomach churn thinking about being in those conditions.

   Weeee(puke)eeee!?

Imagine not being able to sleep yet having to work anyway. In terms of watchstanding mates, they generally work 4 hours watchstanding on and 8 hours off. So you stand on the highest weatherproof deck of the ship(the Bridge) and monitor the ship’s progress to your destination. The bridge is the apex of the pendulum and so the motion is very exaggerated – when the ship rolls, the people on the bridge have the most motion. It can be so bad that you literally have to hold on to the rails and not move for fear of being flung across the bridge to violent and painful effect. Many have sustained broken bones in just such circumstances!

Rollin'

So you can barely stand. And you certainly can’t get any sleep because you’re constantly tossed out of your bunk. And all of your coworkers haven’t slept either. No one has any patience. Tempers are quick and short. A simple task of making coffee or filling out a logbook becomes extremely difficult. You begin to wonder what the hell you’re doing out here in this inhospitable environment? Oh right. People in Alaska need their plastic walmart toys for the holidays. Wait, that’s not too fair. They really do need their groceries too. But I really don’t want to die. And this ship is old. Can we really withstand this weather? Is it worth it? Sometimes I really think they aren’t paying me enough for this crap…..

And never forget the awesome power of nature at sea. There are no words to express how powerful the ocean is. Even when you see it and experience the ocean in it’s power you cannot comprehend how immense and devastating it can be.

   Why did they stow everything strewn about the deck?

Containers out on deck are stove in from the power of the waves. Many containers are lost overboard every year due to heavy weather. There are ways to avoid the worst of the storms in terms of navigating around them. But guess what? That adds time and distance to your voyage. And you’re on a schedule remember? The Captain is responsible for the safety of the crew, the ship, and then the cargo. There is quite a bit of pressure from the ‘bigwigs’ sitting safely in their climate-controlled offices urging the ship to remain on the schedule. So if you slow down due to heavy weather or try to sail around the storms the office yells at you for being late. I think every one of the ‘bigwigs’ should have to spend one winter voyage at sea to experience the danger and appreciate the conditions the sailors must endure to remain on schedule.

   Whoopsy!

The KAUAI Bridge portholes blown out from a wave. Note the overhead was destroyed too!

So next time you casually walk into a store and nonchalantly grab a cheap plastic item off the shelf or even a fresh piece of fruit from some faraway land remember that some hard working sailor has endured possibly some horrifying seas and sleepless nights of hard work and determination to bring you these items.

   I just want to go home now

It is not thrilling and exciting to be at sea in this very rough weather. It is terrifying.
Enjoy your Christmas toys; thank your favorite sailor today!

More to Wyoming than I knew

2009-10-29T19:05:00.000-07:00

More Moose pictures....Anybody like nursing babies?

'nuf said

As much as I sing praises for Jackson Hole and Yellowstone, I have always had a dim view of the rest of Wyoming. To me it is sagebrush and Halliburton (why do you think “Dick” C. calls this home?), and I detest driving across it. I have seen a few highlights outside the Hole, namely Devil’s Tower and hiking in the Wind River Range, but for the most part I have nothing nice to say. And really, if you stick to I-80, any road leading to Casper, and I-90, you will probably agree it is a miserable place.

Recently we had the opportunity to visit good friends who made the great escape from the fast-paced-long-commutes-keeping-up-with-the-Jones’s life of Jackson Hole, to a more normal family-friendly life in Sheridan. Now, the thing about Sheridan is that you can’t get there from here. Look at the map, and you see there are several mountain ranges, winding roads that don’t point in the right direction, and 12 months of snow. Lots of snow (not actually on the map, unless you dropped it in the snow). In fact, from November to May, most roads through Yellowstone are closed. It’s times like these that you keep your fingers crossed that Togwotee pass is open. If it’s not, it’s time to crack open another Pabst at Phil’s Tavern, call into work sick, throw another log on the fire and let the brown couch suck you in for the evening, ‘cause you’re not going anywhere. At least, not to Sheridan.

Luckily for us, Yellowstone was still open, and we had a break in the snow with a few days of weather above 40 degrees. It was downright balmy over in Sheridan! Three of us took off like a herd of turtles and decided to take the scenic route through Yellowstone. We exited the east side by Fishing Bridge, went over the Absaroka Mountains, stopped for a beer with the local color in Cody, and crossed the sagebrush of Wyoming through Powell and finally over the Bighorn Mountains on the Medicine Wheel Passage/Bighorn Mountain Scenic Byway to Sheridan. And boy was it scenic! I had no idea. None at all. Wyoming sure has some beautiful rocks! You can imagine the dinosaurs sitting in those rocks waiting to be found. Here’s some photos from more of that good ol’ scenic Wyo’. These photos don’t do the drive justice. There is much more to see.

Yellowstone Lake

Just Scratchin' my beard

On the way home we decided to check out the medicine wheel of the Bighorns. According to the google, it’s an old Indian ceremonial site that has some celestial alignments among the stones. In our tennis shoes, we took our hangovers for a three mile hike through the snow… and guess what? We couldn’t see the wheel because it too was buried in snow. Duh! But the views were great anyway.

The trail

Medicine Wheel National Monument

Edge of the world, Medcine Wheel, Wyo...

We were glad we made the trek even though it delayed our voyage. After all, you really only live once right? While the actual sight of the stones was lost beneath the snow, we could understand why it could be a significant location due to it’s beauty, remoteness, and solitude. It was a moment of reflection for both of us, despite our triflin’ atheistic ways.

There is much more to Wyoming than meets the eye. We feel lucky to have spent three months in NZ because it taught us to stop and smell the roses, so to speak, in our own backyard. Before NZ we would have driven right past the medicine wheel in our hurry to get to the next destination. Now we realize there are many beautiful things worth stopping to see right here in our own neck of the woods. And despite slowing down those few hours, we were still home before bedtime, and happier for it.

Fall Colors in Snake River Canyon, Jackson Hole

2009-10-04T16:17:00.000-07:00

"What do you mean I don't need this junk?"

This is the real Jackson Hole!

As September turned into October, the temperatures dropped and the snow started falling. The snow hasn't been sticking long, but it's quite cold compared to a week ago. If you haven't seen the fall colors in the Snake River Canyon, go check them out. They are astounding this year, brighter and redder than I ever remember. I hope it's not too late, but if you miss them, here are some pictures from the day before it snowed.

The cold temperatures and snow brought my resident moose down from higher altitudes. I was so excited when Grant gently woke me up yesterday with "Honey, the moose are here". After I got up, we found we actually had a whole fam-damily of moose: a momma with twins, and a young bull (like our friends, the Youngbulls. Hi Cody and Tricia! Hope you have twins too). It is rutting season, but because the bull is so young, we aren't sure if he is trying to get laid, or just wanting to hang out with mom still...Probably the former, but we are a wholesome couple with wholesome thoughts so would never assume that nature was taking its course, nor would we watch for hours in the hopes of getting pictures of two moose doing it in our backyard... Because I am lucky to have trees and bushes for my backyard, we could not get a clear photograph of the whole family, but here are pictures of Mom with one of her calves, and the bull through the trees. If you look closely, you can see his paddle-antlers. His are very small, and one is deformed, which we read could mean he was accidentally castrated...or he's very young :) They all slept in my yard, 50-ft away, for hours. I know many people, especially locals, are jaded about moose and other wildlife, but I will never tire of it. Where else in the world can you sit in your warm apartment with a cup of coffee and watch the wildlife come to you? So expect more moose pictures... Cheers!

"Yellowstone and the Tetons", or "September Is My Favorite Month", or "Do you even use the National Forests?"

2009-09-29T09:49:00.000-07:00

Mr. Buffalo is trying to make his great escape too!

Grant and I made the great escape from Seattle to the Rocky Mountains. We decided to drop down through Yellowstone on our way to Jackson, because we love the Parks. We love them sooo much that we get an annual parks pass every year. We also used to buy a Northwest Forest Pass, which is good for parking fees at the Washington and Oregon National Forest trailheads. A few years ago the National Parks, Recreation areas, and Forests decided to combine their passes into one big "Interagency Pass". The National Parks card comes with a handy dandy rear view mirror hang-tag that allows you to park in said National Forest areas, thus making it truly "interagency". Well, the Yellowstone Park employee only gave us the card, and not the hangtag, making it useless for National Forests. Luckily, as we have bought this pass in years past, we noticed in time to whip around and explain her mistake to her. The ever-helpful park employee sneered, "Do you even use the National Forests?" Umm, is it any of your business? We paid for an interagency pass, and you didn't give it to us! It turns out this lady, and the other Grand Teton and Yellowstone employees, do not give you the National Forest part unless you specifically ask for it. So in other words, they happily and knowingly take your $80 and don't give you what you paid for, nor do they tell you what the interagency pass is! So unless you are like us and were lucky enough to buy it previously at a different National Park (Rainier) with nicer employees, you would never know. She also explained that the foreigners just go home so don't use the forests, so they don't give foreign tourists the hangtag!!! So it's their policy to screw foreign tourists over. I have never been treated this poorly in any country I have visited, and I am embarrassed and angry that the Yellowstone Park employees have this awful attitude. Shame on you! And buyer beware, when you buy your new Annual Interagency Park Pass, make for damn sure they give you both parts!

Anyway, apart from the crappy employees, we love Jellystone. It was a short visit this time, so we focused on the thermal areas. We walked along a thermal site I hadn't been to before, and even made it to good ol' "Old Faithful" in time to see her go.

No soap suds here! (They use soap suds in Rotorua, NZ to make the geysers go off for the tourists. How lame is that?) I wanted to hike to Morning Glory Pool, but we ran out of time. These other pools are pretty, though.

Spasm Geyser

Silex Spring

We saw Buffalo and a few Elk, but no bears this time.

Dropping into Grand Teton National Park nearing sunset was impressive.

Every time I see these mountains after being gone for a while, I am blown away. I say, go to Yellowstone for the buffalo jams and the geysers, but if it's truly magnificent mountain scenery you are after, the Tetons are hands down the best.

But GTNP is also great for animal sightings. The day after arrival I went on a hike to Taggart Lake, and was stopped by a black bear jam (not for toast) just a few miles into the park. It was awesome! Mom and cubs were too far into the trees for a good picture, but it was still fun to see.

Here are some of the hikes and activities we have been doing the last week:

Taggart Lake was a beautiful 4-mile hike. I haven't done all the hikes in the Park yet, but I think if you only have a little time, and are of only a moderate fitness level, then Taggart Lake could be your best hike in the park. It gives you big views for minimal effort.

We also hiked the String Lake Loop, just north of Jenny Lake. It had pretty fall colors, and we saw a wild ferret and mule deer!

For our third day, we decided to head out to the Bridger-Teton National Forest to do a much loved-by-locals hike up to Goodwin Lake. Along the hike, we ran into some hunters on horseback who told us they had been charged by a black bear in this area just the day before. He had his rifle, but didn't want to shoot the bear. She came so close that he was going to give her two more feet before shooting, but she veered off just in time for the both of them! This story was a great testament to proper stewards of the land who respect the wildlife and the wilderness and are courageous enough to stay calm instead of wantonly killing a wild animal in its home. I was almost too scared to keep hiking, but we screwed up our courage (or stupidity) and kept going. It was a very rewarding hike. We saw a marmot, "Teton Chickens" (grouse), horses and dogs, but thankfully no bears.

The last weekend of summer called for some water skiing and beer drinking at Palisades Reservoir, in the Caribou-Targhee National Forest over by Alpine, WY. Grant was looking great on his slalom ski,

and I was beaten up on the tube.

At sundown we all made it over to the hotsprings to warm up before putting our fleece on as the temperature plummeted to fall temperatures. A few mule deer families joined us for a dip in the lake. Lucky for them, the hunters in our group didn't have their rifles, LOL.

It was a great day!

But wait, there's more. We had to cut firewood before it started snowing,

Mosquito Creek, Bridger-Teton National Forest

Notice we do not cut down live trees, they are already dead, and even down when we cut them!

and with one more day of sunshine in the forecast, we topped our hiking off on a 10 mile round-trip hike to Surprise and Amphitheater lakes. I have never come so close to those peaks in my life (though Grant has summited a few of them, a few times). I felt like I could reach out and touch the Grand, but alas, at our elevation of 10,000 ft I was not even halfway up, with about 4,000 more feet to go. Not to mention the path we were on would take us to Disappointment Peak, not the Grand. It's a disappointment, because when you get to the top, it's a sheer drop off with no way to summit the Grand. I'll save that part of the hike for another time. Gorgeous.

This is what I love about Jackson Hole. We have direct access to National Parks and Forests, rivers and lakes to go hiking, fishing, hunting, water and snow skiing, raft the rivers and go soaking in free natural hot springs. Ok, I just hike and sit in hot springs, but Grant does all these activities! Plus, if you don't feel like getting outside, civilization is also here with great restaurants, movie theaters, and the arts. What a combination.

The pictures speak for themselves, but September is the best time to be here. The weather is warm and stable, the crowds have thinned out, and the fall colors are awesome.

And to the sneering Yellowstone employee, in just one week, we used the National Forest three ways: hiking, boating, and cutting firewood. I can say emphatically and with proof that YES, we do use and love the National Forests, Parks, and Recreation areas, so go sneer at yourself!

A much more deserved, but inadequate, eulogy

2009-09-06T21:26:00.000-07:00

A close friend of Grant's and his dad's passed away last night. I consider him my friend too, though we weren't close. He had a lot of friends, and though I didn't know him well, I can tell you some of what made him special.

Patrick is the type of person that will catch and hold your attention, and probably have you laughing your ass off, within 60 seconds. He is open and genuine. He's not afraid to tell you anything about himself. He has the charismatic personality that makes you feel special and like you're in on the joke. He makes you feel like a good friend whenever he talks to you. And you know what? You are his good friend.

Patrick loved to travel. He loved other cultures, and their food and drink. But he was no sappy liberal that thought every other culture was more beautiful or more perfect than his own. He had a lot of insight, and saw the hilarity of what might be wrong, tragic, or just different the way other people and cultures do things, while maintaining genuine respect for them. A classic example is his "Of course we are having cold beer today" story while in India. I'll butcher the story so won't tell it, but it's a great, simple anecdote he tells that serves to illustrate a basic difference in our cultures. It was also just a funny story to tell over beers. It goes without saying that he had a lot of insight into the hilarity of our own culture, too.

Patrick took you under his wing right away, with no reservations, and without judgement. One of the small things I loved about him, was he always called me by my high-school nickname even though I didn't know him back then. He heard it once, agreed it was the right name for me, and called me by it from then on, just like my best friends. But it always sounded right coming from him. It gave me that sense we had known each other forever.

Mostly what I know about Patrick, is that he was always laughing. Even if he was talking ill of somebody, it was through laughter, and never cruel. Everybody around him was always laughing too, many all the way to the finish line. He loved life. That much is obvious. He inspires me to travel and learn. He inspires me to stop whining, get off the computer, and enjoy life. Or at least light heartedly make fun of it.

Patrick was a great guy, and he will be missed.

So this ones's for Patrick! And this one. This one too. Boy I'm getting drunk.

P.S.

Hey everybody, get your colonoscopies! Especially you. You know who you are.

Hey English majors, screw you and your tenses. I can mix my tenses as much as I want in my blog.

Hey Congress, we need health care reform. Get off your asses and do it now.

Hey people who don't think we need health care reform. Shut up.

Life of a Sailor - "So, do you get to steer the ship?"

2009-09-04T09:13:00.000-07:00

When I'm Captain, Grant get's to steer!

This is one of our most FAQ's. The answer is NO. Grant is an Engineering Officer, so he works in the engine room. I am a Deck Officer, which means I am in charge of the overall navigation of the ship when I am standing my bridge watch. I cannot fix our position on the chart, do collision avoidance, communicate on the VHF's, GMDSS, and internal comms, or do any number of other clerical work such as logbook entries, if I am standing around steering the ship. And how am I going to know what course to steer if I'm stuck behind the wheel? Ah, somebody has to tell me the course, and that person is me. So I need somebody else standing behind the wheel, so I can tell them what to steer.

Me at work. Notice I am not steering.

Proof that what Grant says I do for living is true: I'm heading to the coffee pot for a refill, after which I'll put my feet up and enjoy the view.

In reality, most of the time the ship steers itself. In the old days, (like a few years ago), we would put the ship in auto pilot, and the ship would use whatever rudder it needed, within the limits I input, to keep the ship pointed in the direction dialed in. We still have that option, but in addition we have a "Track Mode" or as some people call it, ECDIS mode. Basically, we go to the computer with electronic charts (Electronic Chart Display and Information System) and input our route. This is displayed as track lines on the screen. Once we're pretty darn close to the line, like less than a tenth of a mile off, we switch the steering stand to "Track" mode. Once on Track mode, the ship doesn't just steer a course automatically, it accounts for set and drift, and steers whatever course it needs to keep you on the line. For instance, the track line may be 090 (east), but because of current, we are being set to the south. The ship will then steer a little more northerly, say 088, to make good the 090 track line. And I don't have to do a damn thing. The computer and GPS does it all. Another cool thing, is when we are on a Great Circle route, which plots as a curved line on our flattened out Mercator projection charts, the ship will continuously adjust course along the curved line. Pretty cool.

When we have traffic, or we are too close to land for it to be prudent to let a computer drive the ship, it goes back to auto pilot. I evaluate what course we need to steer to make good our track line or give the traffic an appropriate wide berth, and then tell the AB on my watch what to do. He dials in the course, and checks the magnetic heading. When traffic is particularly heavy, there is a large course change, or we are steering very close to land, I put the ship into hand steering, or what people think of when they ask, "do you get to steer the ship". Now the AB on watch is steering the ship by hand. I give courses, and even rudder orders if needed, and he repeats my orders back to me and tells me when he is steady on course.

My view from the bridge. Hey weekend warriors. Just so you know, when you try to cross my bow, I am steering 700 feet from the bow, and going 25mph, so you might want to rethink your strategy!

Now for a sea story: A few years ago while in Kodiak, we had such a big storm that our ship parted 8 mooring lines over the course of the day (very dangerous, people can die, and one of our men almost did). Our dock in Kodiak is really crappy as there is no breakwater, natural or otherwise, to protect us from the seas that roll in. We had a tug holding us against the dock and our bow and stern thrusters going. The longshoreman wanted to quit, but we still had hatch covers off. It is illegal and just plain stupid to go to sea, especially in a storm, with huge holes into your hull. We convinced them to get the hatch covers on, but they refused to lash the containers as they wanted off the ship. (Hatch covers weigh several tons each, so require a crane to move them.) All hands were on deck securing the containers. I was called to the bridge with the Captain and Pilot to get all the navigation equipment going so we could leave. Well, it was time to go, but we looked around the bridge and realized we didn't have a helmsman! The Captain looked at me and said, "Robin, you have to steer." It had been about six years since I steered a ship, but I hopped on, and apparently did a good job. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when the AB finally made it to the bridge to take over. Phew. Just goes to show, we have to be ready to do anything, and perform all job functions at any time while out there. And I must say, if I ever "get to steer the ship" it's because the "shit has hit the fan", so to speak.

A heap of parted mooring lines. The line is several inches in diameter, or was.

View from the offshore side of the ship at the Kodiak dock. Though a nice day today, you can see we are open to any seas or swell that come in. This exposed, even a little bit of swell makes the ship surge away from the dock.

Everybody Else Is Doing It, So I Will Too.

2009-07-07T23:51:00.000-07:00

I never considered myself a Michael Jackson fan. I am a grunge rocker from Seattle, after all. But tonight I find myself drunk off PBR sobbing while I watch his memorial service on my worn-out, rabbit-eared television (FYI this is only Robin talking).

Since Michael Jackson died nearly two weeks ago, the span of his music career has been whored out over every media outlet imaginable. I recognize and enjoy almost all his music from when he was ten years old, to the end of his life, yet I never realized a lot of these songs were his, though it's obvious now. His work has always been like background music to my life, a sort unobtrusive soundtrack.

I clearly remember having this epiphany once before, though. I was at a dance club with friends, which I rarely do. I remember being severely annoyed by the crappy "music" when all of a sudden something new and fresh came on. I started nodding my head, rocking my shoulders, maybe doing a little hand wave, when suddenly the lyrics to "Billie Jean" smacked me upside the head. "Michael Jackson, duh!" More than 20 years after this song was first released, it was still the hottest, most danceable music in the clubs, (in this humble grunge rocker's opinion). But it was! It got everybody on their feet dancing, and I swear it was not just nostalgia. I mean let's face it. I was not even two-years-old when "Thriller" came out, and I assume most of my fellow head-nodders were about the same age. It's hard for babies to be nostalgic! It was just great music. And I think that is my main point. Much of his music is timeless. He was a true professional, a true talent, I believe he truly cared about people in his own way, and I now know I am a Michael Jackson fan.

So there!

The Life of a Sailor - The One Left Behind

2009-06-26T18:16:00.000-07:00

This is the first piece in what I will call my "Life of a Sailor" series, which I hope will provide insight into our bizarre world. Fun travel pieces will also continue.

Grant shipped out a few weeks ago unexpectedly. He went to the union hall for a union meeting, and a great job fell in his lap. This has happened to him a few times in the past, but he still worries more than I do about finding work! So I drove around with him to his doctors appointments and on his errands for a few last minute items, then I bundled him up into his old Volvo at 6:30 am and sent him out to sea. I am left behind.

Most people assume that because I ship out as well, it is easier on me than the other wives and girlfriends. This job has one of the highest divorce rates for any industry. It's also hard for the young guys to keep a girlfriend through even one tour of duty. But though I have enough empathy, understanding, and love not to leave my man because of the stress of him (and me) being away for long periods of time, I often think our situation is harder and more stressful than the classic case where the loved one is left behind.

When one of us leaves, we have no idea when we will see each other again. Let me explain. We belong to different unions, as he is an engineer and I am a deck officer. His rotations are 90 days, and mine are 120 days, so presuming we get a job on the exact same day (never going to happen), our schedule is already off by one month. We are allowed to take a trip off for up to 30 days (or one round trip), so some of our work is as relief officers for short tours of one month. Frankly, one month is not enough to pay the bills, so after our trip we have to go straight back to the hall to try for another job. (This process is often called "Looking for a Ship", and John McPhee's book by the same title is an excellent read.) Often what happens is that one of us will get a job right before the other one is finishing her rotation. This has happened many times, sometimes so close that we are literally two ships passing in the night, hours away from our homeport but one is arriving, and one is heading out to sea. One year, between us shipping out and having to go to school for continuing education, Grant and I saw each other a total of six weeks! Six weeks, of which it was a day here, and a day there adding up to that six weeks. And we don't get daily phone or private e-mail contact like other couples who travel for work! When you have a traditional landlubber significant other, you know that they will be there when you come home from sea. That is not true for us.

The other part that makes it difficult for me, and probably Grant, is that our job is very dangerous. I know this first hand. I myself had to give first aid to a man hit by a mooring line which ultimately cracked his hip and broke his wrist and arm in five places. I thought I was holding a dying man with a broken back in my arms on the cold, wet deck of a ship in Alaska, with mooring lines parting all around us. Luckily I was able to get the two of us to a safe place while I screamed in the radio for an ambulance, and he gave me what he thought were his last words to pass on to his only daughter. I have also heard of major accidents in the engine room. I have been in storms so bad I was physically thrown out of my bunk and across the room....over and over again. Grant has had a fire onboard (nope, no firefighters on board. We are the firefighters, police, security, and medical personnel in addition to our "regular" jobs). Everybody has sea stories, and I frankly would prefer not to gain any more.

Sometimes when the ship comes back to our homeport, we get to see each other. We get to come home for a few hours, sleep, get up at 0600, and go back to work. We would never miss a chance to be together, but it is an emotional rollercoaster. The time is too short, we know the other has to leave but don't want to believe it, and again, we don't know when we will see each other next. This last time I picked up my man, I finally realized what it feels like for me. He feels like a ghost. Here, then gone, like he was never there in the first place.

The short of it is that when Grant and I kiss each other goodbye, we don't know for how long.

Cheers, and here are some pictures for you :)

Grant's home for the next three months. At least he got rid of his roommate (me)!

His ship. (Through the magic of Iphoto, I have erased the name of the ship and company logo from the bow)

The bustling Port of Tacoma. To the untrained eye, this looks like a bewildering array of industry. But if you look close (click to enlarge) you start to see that there are two bulk carriers at anchor awaiting their berths, a loaded barge at anchor, numerous sailboats and private yachts, four container ship terminals, a log and pulp terminal, bulk liquid cargo storage, a tugboat, and a railroad to carry the cargo out to the hinterland. This is a major part of what the global economy looks like.

A closer look. I'll buy a pabst for whoever tells me first, in the comments section, how many ships and where they are in this picture.

California Dreamin'

2009-06-10T18:14:00.000-07:00

After three days home, we had the itch to travel again, so we threw our tent and sandals into my tiny two-seater hybrid car and headed for California. Actually, Grant's union requires him to get a yearly physical at their clinic in Oakland. Either way, a road trip was in order.

It was fun driving down the fast interstate after the slow roads of New Zealand. Even though I didn't drive in New Zealand, there were moments of vertigo when I couldn't figure out what lane to drive in. "Stay right, stay right, stay right" We had people to see and places to go, so couldn't drive down the entire Oregon coast on Highway 1 like we wanted, but we cut over north of the California border as our friends live in Humboldt County on the Coast. It was hard to pull over for pictures at highway speeds, but I tell you, the Oregon and California coasts were really giving NZ a run for her money with the views. We will really have to hit the Oregon Coast soon, because if I remember right, it is even more scenic.

Our friends took us and their new kids on a local hike called something like "fern gully". It is where they filmed much of Jurassic Park. At the beach there were elk, or "elk goats" as our little buddy called them. I had no idea elk lived at the beach. I assumed they were all toughing it out in the cold snowy mountains like in Jackson Hole. If I were those JH elk, I would extend my migration to the warmer California climate.

   Watch for Dinasours!

   "Elkgoats"

We also got to go see the end of the famous Kinetic Sculpture Races, where Burning Man types build man-powered vehicles that must peddle down the road then become waterborne and peddle/paddle down the bay a ways, then back to land again to cross the finish line, more than 30 miles all together! It makes for a very long weekend. More effort goes into the artistic aspect of the vehicles versus the mechanics, but all together a very cool artistic/engineering/athletic feat, and a well deserved beer was had by all at the the finish line. Here are a few of our favorite competitors...

   Octomom!!!! If you don't know who she is, leave a comment and I'll explain.

Down to the Bay Area. We had a great time with our college buddies and their new family, but Oakland isn't that exciting, so no pictures. Plus, we don't put pictures of our little buddies on the internet! Sorry for you because all three new little buddies are very cute.

North bound we cut over East towards Bend, OR to visit Grant's sister and brother-in-law a.k.a. our friends. In Bend we went on a hike near Mt. Bachelor, but despite the 90 degree weather, the amount of snow left on the trail stopped us in our tracks.

Along the way to Bend, and further north to Seattle, we saw all of our resident volcanos, or Mountains as most people call them, and even got a few pictures. The Cascades are pretty impressive. One thing about people from the Pacific Northwest is that at any moment they can point out at least five volcanos, whether you can see them or not!

   Mt. Shasta?

   Mt. Shasta from the north

   Elk Lake and Mt. Bachelor, Bend, OR

   Mt. Saint Helens, a confirmed volcano!

That's it for now. Grant shipped out today on the domestic Alaska run. I'm hoping to find a ship in July despite the gorgeous weather in Seattle. It's a small world and a small industry, so you won't be getting any juicy gossip from us concerning work, but we may be able to show you some ship pictures and tell you some very vague sea stories. Stay tuned.

Cheers

Van-free in Auckland

2009-05-14T12:40:00.000-07:00

   Home sweet home, where did you go?

How to not get your van stolen in three days in four easy steps:

1. Do not put "for sale" sign in window advertising brand new tyres.
2. Do not fill out mandatory forms that must hang in your window with your address. Ignore the law until you sell, then write a fake address down.
3. Do not tell anybody, even the owner of a reputable hostel, where you are staying, that your van is for sale, and that you have a buyer lined up but are looking for alternatives in case your buyer falls through the following day, especially if that reputable person sells vans to backpackers, has a garage, and gives you a speech about Karma and spiritual stuff. (He's the only person we mentioned where we were staying to)
4. Do not leave keys in the ignition (just kidding, well, not really, you probably shouldn't do that)

How to get Karma so mad that she throws you under a bus, in one easy step:

1. Steal Robin's van

On the bright side:

1. We wanted to get rid of the van one way or another.
2. None of our personal belongings were in the van (but you knew that anyway, didn't you, you little bastard)
3. Nobody was hurt...at least not us...physically anyway
4. We don't have to sit on a used car lot being a used car salesman today
5. Auckland has beer

Really guys, this sucks, but the police were really nice, though we don't expect them to find our white van amongst the 300,000 other white vans in this city, and if we do, we're sure it will be stripped. They answered the phone right away and were really sweet and professional. When we went to the central downtown police station in person there was no line, and the clerk chatted with us for a half an hour.

Unfortunately there are assholes everywhere, willing to take advantage of easy targets. We sort of feel guilty for letting out a little too much information to somebody we thought was a good bloke, but you know what? That still does not give them the right to take something of ours that we rightfully own. Here's the appropriate bumper sticker we saw while walking around; "Thou shalt not steal God is watching you stupid fuck!"

So we're scanning the newspapers looking out for bus accidents......

I would still say this is a safe city and country. In my opinion, the most unsavory people you may run into are often the ones making their living from young travelers (duh), though our hostel is fantastic. I woke our host up at 0730 this morning freaked out wondering what to do, and she stayed with us for hours helping with phone calls and anything else she could. We love her. Freeman's Bed and Breakfast is the very best, and what we were expecting in NZ.

More advice we can give you is to spend the extra $50 on stolen vehicle insurance coverage. Never leave your passport in your vehicle. We didn't, but we just want to really stress that one. Like individual stocks, do not invest more than you can afford to lose. What we lost will not financially ruin us. It was still less than a rental, or what the cost of staying in hotels and hostels would have been, so relatively speaking we still had a cheap vacation. When you go to buy a van, make sure you run a legal check. Also make sure the seller is the actual registered owner! We did this when we bought, but whoever stole our van will be able to flip it to some clueless young couple no problem. Only one of our potential buyers asked about a legal check. All other people only looked at the price, and didn't consider the engine or legal status of the vehicle. Whoever buys our stolen van will be shit-out-of-luck, and I feel more sorry for them than us. At least we got three legal months of joy out of her. They will lose money and their vacation when found and seized.

We'll be home on Saturday, and we're looking forward to watching the Mariners, drinking the best beer in the world, ordering real iced coffee, and visiting our friends. I'm also looking forward to driving my little two-seater hybrid car around instead of a huge van. Grant is really looking forward to this, as it is my turn to do the driving for three months.

Cheers, and here are some pictures of the Far North

Bay of Islands - The bay of Islands is pretty. We went sailing and had a good time.

Cape Reigna - Cape Reigna is one of the most spiritually important places for the Maori people. It is at the very far North end of the North Island, where the Tasman sea and Pacific Ocean literally meet. You even see the line where the seas crash against each other from different directions. It is also where the Maori believe all their souls go before dispersing to the spirit world, Hawaike. They actually go through that tree's roots down to the next word and "disperse". Where the oceans meet is also where they believe some gods met and created life (or something). So there you go.

   Cape Reigna

   Close up of the "dead people tree" (Robin's words)

     Looking towards the Tasman Sea

   Where the seas meet, a clear line in the sea!

Then we visited some sand dunes at Te Paki. An activity you could do is to surf or boogie board down the steep dunes. We only managed a short walk.

Norte!

2009-05-02T03:07:00.000-07:00

Grant and I made it to the North Island with no problems, though the ferry didn't have enough sight-seeing windows. (You can tell a mate wrote that - they compulsively need to see out the window to make sure they don't hit anything. We engineers never get to see out the window so wouldn't know the difference) After our ten days of ultra luxury in a hotel, we couldn't quite manage to move back into our van, so got another hotel in Picton the night before our ferry trip north. Then in Wellington, it was too cold and we wanted to enjoy the city, so we decided on a second night in a hotel. After leaving Wellington and driving to Hawkes Bay, we finally forced ourselves back into the van. It was actually like a mini homecoming with warm beer, dirty dishes and all.

Hawkes Bay is the good wine region of NZ (don't tell that to the other NZ wine regions). Hawkes Bay around Napier is the only region that produces a few good reds, whereas the rest of NZ is so cold they mainly pride their white varietals, with the few reds tasting quite thin. This of course comes from our oh-so-sophisticated beer guzzling wine palate! The fall foliage was pretty, and the weather was fine, but as we were enjoying the local bounty I think we forgot to take pictures. Oh well - it looked good and tasted good even though we consumed the evidence.

From there it was on to my biggest attraction of NZ, one of the things I came here most for, the famed volcanic TONGARIRO CROSSING!!!! The Tongariro crossing is rated as NZ's best day hike and is extremely popular. It consists of hiking through the volcanic region of the North Island with spectacular views and incredible terrain. However, heavy rains and gusts up to 85 kph meant that nobody was going on the mountain for at least several days. So we drove on to Waitomo Caves so as not to waste our time waiting for hope.

   What did we sign up for again?

We signed up for one of the (expensive) cave tours that Waitomo is famous for. The tour included abseiling, blackwater tubing, and climbing up waterfalls through a maze of caverns. First we were outfitted with extremely tight wetsuits (they always underestimate the beer belly beneath my coat) with fleece underneath, and shorts and a climbing harness on the outside. We then drove to a cave where we learned how to abseil. We were supposed to lower ourselves down a tight, long, dark, hole into the cave. (he said.....) Actually, after ensuring we knew the knots and techniques, the two guides tied and clipped us in, then lowered us down themselves, but hey, we're paying for the training and the safety, not a real death defying adventure. In the cave we put an innertube around our butts, jumped off a cliff into the (cold!) water then pulled ourselves along a rope up the river. (No wonder those wetsuits were so thick!) After that, we all turned off our lights, and the guides took us on a "romantic" float back down the river while looking at the thousands of glow worms.

The glow worms are pretty cool. They live on the roof of the cave and look like a starlit night of galaxies and constellations. They are not actually worms, they are maggots, and they don't glow, their poop does, so what looks like a cave full of stars is actually glowing poop all around us. Romantic indeed.

After needlessly crawling through tight holes, we then needlessly climbed up some short waterfalls, with the guides placing our hands and feet for us with an occasional boost on the bum to get us up. Despite all the help, the trip left me cold and exhausted, and my muscles ached for days. It really pushed me to the edge, and hence made me feel really bad about how weak I am considering my age. I won't even tell you how bad my hips hurt while straddling the waterfall rock faces trying to pull myself up. My excuse is that I'm 5'1", so was proportionally more spread eagled than the rest of the crew. (Incidentally we had a lot more fun in the tropical jungle of Belize caving into the Mayan sacrifice cave.) Right, so on to the thermal center of New Zealand....

Rotorua proved to be nothing like what we remembered when Grant and I really were young 7 years ago and spent a nice evening soaking in the hot tubs away from the training ship. So we drove further out of town to stay at a holiday park with really nice hotsprings. We did plunk down some money to see some thermal wonderland or other, and it was nice, but not thrilling. I would say that if you have never seen geysers, boiling mud, and sulfur hotpools, then definitely go to Rotorua. But, if you have been to Yellowstone National Park and you are short on time in NZ, as one of my best friends advised, you can probably skip Rotorua with a clear conscience. Like I said though, if you've never seen this stuff before, than I highly recommend the area. And really, go check out Yellowstone if you haven't.

After killing about four days with our adventures, we called about Tongariro, and the shuttle companies were canceling for at least a few more days. That meant that even if we decided to be stupid and hike the mountain anyway, there would be nobody to pick us up on the other side, so death by exposure would be a near certainty. I had to give up my goal and move on, but I guess there is always next time.

   There are more bugs on the North Island, though fewer sandflies.

Luckily, we drove North to the Coromandel Peninsula where the weather cleared and we had a few beautiful days of sunshine. The scenery was pretty and the drive was pleasant enough, but nothing too dramatic. It's really something to be spoiled by the grandeur of the South Island! Same on up towards the Bay of Islands. (We actually sort of shot ourselves in the foot in that we our now a little pressed for time to see all we want to see in the North. We have already given up on seeing some stuff, and we are now driving a lot more than we ever did in the South just to get to the spots we do want to see.) We are sitting waiting for the rain to stop in a day or two, then we'll plunk down more money to check out the Islands.

   Coromandel

   Looking out from Cathedral Cove

   Pretty Cathedral Cove, Coromandel

Probably the highlight, or the most intersting, part of our North Island tour so far was at the locals pub we went to last night where we met a nice Maori concrete contractor who enlightened us on a lot of culture. First, he said he was the youngest of 15 kids!!!! His oldest sibling is in his 70's! And he said that was average for Maori families. Then, he said he dropped out of school around ten or eleven, and got some 12 or 13 year-old girl pregnant!!!! We figured this out because he told us he was 40, then he mentioned his oldest daughter was about to turn 30. We laughed at the math, but he said it's true he fathered his first child around the age of ten. We can't decide if he's kidding or not, but it's sort of one of those things where you can't make that shite up. And you had to have been there to see how serious he was. Crazy, but he was a good mate to have a few rounds with, and gave us more insight into rugby, and actual Maori history and culture besides his family life.

Until the weather clears, we'll see you next time. Our van is for sale, so if you know anybody who wants an awesome van, tell them to check out our ad on the Auckland gumtree site. Keep your fingers crossed we strike a good deal next week!

Cheers.

Life of luxury, or attack of the killer bees?

2009-04-22T16:54:00.000-07:00

   Mom's jet-lag day

Mom made it to NZ no problem. We took it easy the first few days for Nancy's jet lag, and because the holidays made it impossible to do much of anything. We had fun playing frisbee on the beach at Rabbit Island near Nelson,

   Why not fly all the way to NZ to play frisbee?

and were able to go wine tasting despite the weird alcohol rules. Apparently, the wine lobby convinced the NZ government to give wineries a break - I suppose for tourism and marketing purposes though it seems everyone we spoke with disagreed on the rules(though some had the explicit rules written on their sales license). One can only hope they will extend this to craft breweries in the near future. A trip into the village of Mapua ended up being the main local's Easter attraction, with a huge fair and market(you can't really have a proper fair when alcohol sales are prohibited now can you? What do the drunken cowboys do when they're not allowed to drink?). There were throngs of people, but plenty of free parking in a sheep paddock. At the waterfront, we were able to introduce Mom to our Welsh friends Sian and Rob, so now we have proof they are not just our imaginary friends! We buggered off as they were having lunch, and Mom would never be able to keep up with our debauchery. We did learn how badly Grant and I screwed up not picking grapes. The wine employers fed them lunch and dinner, all the wine they could drink, and gave them plenty of breaks. It sounded more like a party than anything, and when it was all said and done, they made $300NZD for 12 hours work over two days. That was for two, in US dollars that works out to about $12 and hour plus perks. Oh well, it will still be harvest season when we get to Hawke's bay in a few days, so we may have our chance!

With the holidays mostly wrapped up, we headed to Abel Tasman.

   Start of Abel Tasman track

It was a glorious few sunny days, and the hikes we did were delightful. The first afternoon we walked a short ways up from the head of the track to a small beach.

The next day we took a boat ride the length of Abel Tasman National Park, then back to Bark Bay where we walked about 7 or 8 km south to Torrent Bay for our boat pick up. (Some of the walks have a great service where you can catch a water taxi to different parts of the walks, walk a section or two, and be picked up. This adds great versatility to your schedule in that you can do one short afternoon hike, or a one or two day walk and still have access to transportation so that you don't have to commit to the entire walk if your schedule doesn't fit the time required to complete it. We'll let the pictures speak for themselves, but for Grant and I, it was the flattest trail we have been on in NZ and still provided rewarding views.

   Mom's dream to walk across a swing bridge comes true!

As we had goals of making it to Kaikora down the East Coast, we decided to skip Golden Bay, and head Southeast to Picton and the Marlborough Sounds. The drive from Havelock to Picton was a pretty, winding road, but a little long. When I say winding road I mean narrow and about 35 kph average speed - we spent a lot of time in second gear and a lot of time in the pullouts letting others pass the slow tourons. We still had time to sign up for a boat cruise and walk on the Queen Charlotte Track. This four or five day tramp is awesome. Get this, they transport your pack for you from campsite to campsite, so even if you're tenting it instead of staying in a luxury lodge, all you have to carry for four days is your daypack!

Our captain was really nice. I wandered over and asked him which island we were passing, and his reply was "It's ok, women aren't very good with maps". I started laughing my arse off, and had to tell him what I do for living (professional navigator for those who don't know yet) and that turned into some pretty good conversation. Grant and I were dropped off at the start of the track, Ship Cove, where Captain Cook spent a lot of his time. (Apparently the Marlborough Sound was one of his favorite NZ areas, and he used the spot to beach his vessel and clean the bottom and do out-of-the-water maintenance and other chores such as astronomical observations and botany.)

   Captain Cook's real cannon. Fire in the hole!

Mom was dropped off further down the track, and our plan was to overtake her and finish the walk to Furneaux Lodge together. That is what we did, and everything was fine until about ½ hour after we met up with Mom.

   Did someone leave their headlights on?

Right, so first off, thank god my mom is a doctor! She is allergic to bees and wasps to the point of anaphylactic shock (meaning the hives get so bad she can't breath), so carries an epipen with her, most of the time. Luckily we remembered it, because a few minutes after she switched to her sandals, a wasp flew right between her toes and stung her. It didn't take long for us to realize what had happened as Mom was swearing like a sailor, but Grant and I were useless. We did manage to get the epipen out of her backpack, but then Grant nearly passed out (he has a hard time with needles), and all I could do was read the instructions over and over again out loud. Mom finally grabbed the needle from me, dropped her drawers, and jammed the damn thing into her thigh herself! Boy is she tough. Next time I'll know what to do for sure. After her ordeal, she still had to hike an hour to our pick-up point with a throbbing foot. Luckily for us, the adrenaline made her really pick up the pace, though the boat wasn't leaving early anyway. So we all had a round at the lodge and tried to laugh off Mom's near death experience.

We were able to get another epipen from the pharmacy without a prescription, so I would highly recommend buying one while in NZ if you think you are remotely susceptible to major bee reactions and go on any hikes longer than an hour or two outside a hospital. It is easy to use. You take a cap off, and jam a dull point into your thigh, then some mechanism spits out the needle and injects the epinephrine for you. It's idiot proof (well, ahem, you know what I mean).

Kaikora was next on our list, and was definitely a highlight of our trip, and hopefully Mom's too. On the way there, we stopped at a view point with hundreds of seals. They stink! All that fish or something.

We got to stay in an ultra-luxurious waterfront hotel with a heated towel rack and spa, then we got to go on a cool boat tour to see albatross, and other seabirds. Albatross are a major part of seagoing folklore, and they are huge! We saw other seabirds too. The albatross have something like a 3 meter wingspan. It's hard to show their size in the pictures, but trust us.

They have to basically fold their wings up twice when they tuck them in. Really cool. We also got to see tons of dolphins, but no whales.

We skipped the whale tour as we are a little jaded from our profession and coming from the Puget Sound, but that was for the best as all whale tours were cancelled due to fog anyway. So we lucked out and got to see all there was to see and more choosing the bird tour instead of the dolphin or whale tour. The hike around Kaikora peninsula was really nice too, though the fog didn't allow for many views aside from the beach. Nice rocky beaches though!

   Kaikora Peninsula walk. We hiked down here too!

Mom's trip was coming to an end, so we drove her to Nelson the night before, took her on one more death march up to "the center of New Zealand", then packaged her up in one piece for her long ride home. Luckily, she will arrive before she left, so should be in pretty good shape. I hope you had fun mom, we sure did.

So, we're off to the North Island to play with some volcanoes. With less than four weeks to go, one in which we must sell the van, I am getting nervous I don't have enough time to see everything!

Cheers.

"Good" Friday

2009-04-10T15:29:00.000-07:00

   Blogging

As I sit here and type, I have a fantastic view of the Tasman Bay with beach access at my fingertips, or maybe it's the tips of my toes. The sun is going to set in a few hours, and my beer is cold and often, like my men (man, and cold anyway)? Though I'm enjoying myself immensely, this "Good" Friday is anything but what you might think of as a good Friday.

First of all, it's the start of the Easter Holiday in New Zealand, which appears to be taken more seriously than Christmas. Strange since according to our guide book, almost 40% of the population claim no religious affiliation and 6% objected to being asked what their religion was. On Good Friday, and the following Easter Sunday, one cannot purchase alcohol of any type in the stores or bars. If you eat out, however, you can purchase an adult beverage if bought in conjunction with food. We learned that the seedier places will stretch the rules, and allow you to drink a beer while perusing the menu with the intentions of eating, then shrug their shoulders if you decide the menu is shite, and don't order food. This isn't really a problem, as Grant and I, though fond of carbonated malted drinks, do not often indulge without food anyway. But it did catch us off guard. ( Luckily we learned our lesson way back at the "bar" near Mt. Cook that didn't serve beer at all. Since that disastrous event we have strived to keep at least a case of "emergency rations" on hand, as well as a few "extra emergency" bottles of sobriety wine.) The other days this rule is in effect are from 7am to noon on ANZAC(Australia New Zealand and Canada referring to the WWI fighting forces) Day and maybe Christmas Day, though the bartender informed us that on Christmas Eve it's nearly impossible to get the parents to go home to play Santa Claus. Along with the odd drinking rules, the labor laws we mentioned before are in effect, so most businesses are closed, making for a lot of toursits wandering the streets aimlessly. Well, it's not that bad, but truly only a few restaurants and stores are open. "Alli Cat" will understand our point, anyway :)

Leading up to this fine day was somewhat of a comedy, and much of it a comedy of errors. It was mostly uneventful as far as scenery and hikes go. (Well, not really as around every turn there's more pretty scenery - we kind of think that it's a case of scenery overload - it's all so grand and persistent everyday that one kind of gets weary of being awe-inspired all day. Where are my litter-strewn dirty-snow city streets anyway?) We drove back over to the East Coast, where the rain turned into sunshine. It's almost like a line in the sand where the wet side turns into the dry side! The most-scenic mountain pass was nice, though hard to compare with the Tetons, but the Tetons are always tough competition.

   The Dry Side

We finally left the Lonely Planet track and stopped in a town and camping area not even briefly mentioned. It was nice, and for US $6, Grant and I got to sleep next to a stream and had some friendly cows try to wrangle treats out of us all night.

The next day, we decided to stop by a wine region north of Christchurch. First we stopped off to get some cash at the nearest town with an ATM, and Grant's cash card was eaten by the machine! It seems his bank screwed up and left him high and dry. Luckily our parents still take good care of us, and Grant's dad was able to mail my mom a replacement card, and the good doctor is flying it out to deliver it to us in person tomorrow!

Later that day, while I was driving for the first time in NZ, we ran into our Welsh friends again! They were on a tandem bicycle probably from the WWII era that they had dug out of their hostel's yard, fixed the tyres and made roadworthy again. They invited us to stay at their hostel for the night, and there was no way we could refuse. After wine tasting, we gathered up our bottles of NZ swill and had a lovely dinner together in their caboose (the hostel's rooms were all in old train coaches!) Needless to say the next morning we were not tip-top.

While wine tasting, the owner of the winery tried to twist our arms into helping with the grape harvest. We told her we didn't have work visas, but she pulled us aside and quietly told us we could work something out under the table. We really wanted to do it, as it was probably one of our only chances to work in a vineyard, experience being illegal immigrant labor (oh so controversial in the US), and hang out with Kiwi's. In the end, in combination with our hangovers, we decided it wasn't prudent to risk our vacation and future status in NZ for a few dollars and a hard days' labor. Our friends did decide to harvest the grapes, and we look forward to hearing about their day. We think NZ affords UK residents more lenient work rules than to the US and other countries, so it wasn't as hard a decision for them. And plus, we're on vacation and work is for suckers!

Onward to Hanmer Springs, a major tourist destination for New Zealanders, where the weather continued to cooperate. We had a lovely dinner out, then a relaxing morning in the hotsprings, an afternoon of miniature golf, and hey, why not stay another night? Fantastic. I know you can play miniature golf anywhere, but it is still fun anywhere. Plus we were the only people there, so we got to drink beer while we played with out offending any mum's! We also learned that iced-coffee is even worse than we thought. It has ice-cream in it along with the milk, espresso, sugar, chocolate, and whipped cream! We couldn't taste any coffee, and we couldn't stomach all that sugar either! I honestly don't know what you would call it in the States. Un-blended espresso milkshake? Never again!

   Just West of Hanmer Springs

A drive back over to the West Coast along the northern Lewis Pass returned us to the infamous rain and sandflies.

   The Wet Side

   Rain, Wind, Sandflies Weeeeeee

A trip up the coast was perhaps not worth our while. After a Weka bird stole Grant's steak out from under our noses, and the rain and wind further frustrated our cooking attempts, we turned in for the night with peanut butter and jelly, and hopes for a better day. The night's rain did turn to sun for the hike, and coated the mountains and foothills with snow, so the views of the mountains were probably the best so far considering we could only catch just glimpses of the Southern Alps previously. we hiked to a cool limestone arch over a river and also checked out some caves, one called the "crazy pavement" cave, which turned out to be a lot of dried mud. The information plaque informed us that though it did look like a bunch of dried mud, it was really interesting to the scientists. I suppose it takes all kinds (just kidding my scientist brother!).

   Karamea drive, snow dusted mountains

   Camp Robber, why you little...

   Oparara Arch, this is much bigger than it looks (he said)

From the West Coast we made it halfway to Nelson and stopped in "up and coming Murchison", which was a lovely town. We stayed at a Holiday Park with a family farm connected, and it was straight out of "Charlotte's Web". They had cute pigs frolicking in the field, a flock of ducks walking under fences to visit with the sheep, pigs, and chickens. They also had a deer that was as friendly as a horse and came when you called, and three emus named Ned, Matilda, and good-old-what's-his-face (or as the pre-teen girl says, "I told you, he has a name, I just don't know what it is!!!") I thoroughly enjoyed the farm and our campsite.

We made a jaunt to the local pub for a jug, and that's where we learned all about the drinking rules for the holidays. The barmaid filled us in on what we could expect. Good thing too because had we been caught unawares, we would have been sorely disappointed. Now we're just amused and prepared!

Continuing the drive to Nelson offered superb views of the snow dusted mountains and foothills, and the weather cooperated all the way to this moment that I drink my holiday beer, and soak in the sunshine, sunglasses, coat, and all! At least we know how to make a Good Friday good!

   Tasman Bay, Nelson

It was only a matter of time

2009-04-08T19:22:00.000-07:00

Off the topic of New Zealand. One of the most frequently asked questions Grant and I get about our jobs, is about potential run-ins with pirates. We always answer by talking about how a US container ship has never been seized by pirates as they are faster and have higher freeboard than the slower tankers and general cargo ships. Well, that all changed today.

http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5gB7YMEDuCwwY9ncDOtPAkEI4-H2wD97EL40O0

Our hearts go out to Captain Richard Phillip, and his family, who gave himself up to the pirates so the rest of the crew could go free. Grant was on a run in the Persian Gulf on a similar ship working for Maersk last summer, so this really does strike us close to our hearts. We are hoping for a speedy return of Captain Phillips to his family, and commend our brothers, (and sisters if you're there) on the Maersk Alabama for their courage, strength, and seamanship.

Ice Everywhere

2009-04-02T13:45:00.000-07:00

From Wanaka, we recieved a postitive weather report for our planned hike of the Rob Roy track. Within the day walks brochure of Mt. Aspirning National Park around Wanaka, this hike was described as a relatively easy tramp past waterfalls with stunning views of glaciers (or something like that), so we were onboard.

The hike was nice, and included the requisite walk through a cow and sheep paddock, a swing bridge, a river gorge, and views of a mountain and glacier. It really was nice, and the weather cooperated beautifully. All these walks have a range of times for completion, ie 2-3 hours, or 3-4 hours. Grant and I are always the later time mentioned. I blame it on all the pictures we take rather than our fitness level. So, despite the "surprisingly easy" walk, we were tired.

Our next real stop, being on the glacier (glass-ee-air) tour, was Fox Glacier. First, we had to drive down a 40-km round trip gravel road outside of Haast for, according to the Lonely Planet, "unforgetable views" of the Southern Alps. Well, considering how overcast and rainy it is in the rainforest, particularly that morning, our views consisted mainly of the trees beside the road. In order to keep Lonely Planet to their word, we are committing the drive to this blog so as to not forget the unforgettable.

Right, so at Fox Glacier, we decided to plunk down a few extra dollars for a guided hike on the glacier. Grant and I have seen a lot of snow in our times in the Rockies and Cascades, however we had never been on a real, live, moving glacier before, and the only way to do it safely is with a guide. It was incredible, and one of the real highlights of the trip. Our group was fairly small, and it was a sunny day.

At the start of the glacier, our guide jumped out onto the "dead ice" and chipped out a hunk of ice for us to pass around. The day before it had been all rock covered, but had lept out of the ground overnight to expose clear ice. The ice up close was not what you expect looking at all the mud, rock, and blue landscape of the rest of the glacier, but it is a very compact, clear, frozen substance - sometimes with bits of rock inside.

From the terminal face of the glacier, we climbed a private trail and staircase up through the rainforest to get safely onto the glacier. There was no way to climb the face itself, as there was ice and boulders collapsing all the time, not to mention the ravines and holes to navigate. At one point they had a tripwire set up on the cliffs to let us know if a rockslide was going to topple over us. The guide watched the green light while the rest of us crossed along the cliff. We were instructed to run if he yelled "run". Apparently the tripwire gives you about eight seconds warning before boulders squash you.

It is striking where the rainforest ends and the glacier begins. It's a clear line, with some gravel to keep it separate. On the one hand, you are not surprised because you wouldn't expect a forest to live on ice, yet at the same time, it comes so close and all the way up the mountain except for a few meters all the way along the glacier.

The guides all cut a safe path with stairs and ropes, even along the glacier, and we all donned crampons to help ensure our vertical stance. The trick was to give up all sense of respectibility, and to stomp around like Calvin and Hobbes to make sure our spikes stuck in the ice. While in my own world stomping around, the guide said "that's right, don't be embarrassed, just keep stomping around". I didn't realize I had to worry about not worrying about being embarrassed! There were awesome holes, bits of downed aeroplane(I don't think it was a genuine authentic old fashioned steam powered job though), and all sorts of "sea stories" about ice rescues throughout the hike. And I didn't even mention the world's only alpine parrot, the Kea, which ganged up on us and tried to steal our packs, and pecked at our backs. Luckily they didn't follow us all around the glacier.

After making it safely back, we decided to drive to the next glacier North, Franz Joseph, to have a look, but decided one hike on a glacier was sufficient. The town was nice, surrounded by the mountains and all.

Further North, we veered back towards the coast, and left the rainforest behind. We caught tantalizing glimpses of the Southern Alps, but no real panoramic views through the foothills and forests.

In Hokitika, we caught our fist glimpse of the Kiwi, and I'm not talking fruits or the edible things either. Through cooperation with the Department of Conservation, a local had set up a small zoo with a variety of aquatic life, and three kiwis. Kiwis are nocturnal, so they keep the lights dimmed during the day for the tourist to see, and turn them on at night so they can sleep. Since we were the last customers of the day, the handler let us stay while he turned on the lights so we could get a good look at them. They were running all over the enclosure excitedly. They run really fast, and look really odd. Flightless birds just look funny. They are actually quite a bit like a mammal as well, but you'll have to google them to get better information. We were happy to get a good glimpse of the Kiwi, so Hokitika was a success. Hokitika is the jade capital of NZ, so we got a good look at traditional Maori carvings. Very beautiful, but you had to watch out for the shops that sold Chinese instead of New Zealand jade.

While trying to decide our next 8-9 days to Nelson, we headed up the coast to Pancake Rocks to enjoy the sun and beach. Pancake rocks were a nice geological oddity, and definitely worth a look, but after trying to order coffee, we realized it was time for some R & R in a hotel with some good hot curry in our bellies. Next we're off to cross both major mountain passes before meeting Robin's mom in Nelson for a week of luxury.

You say "coffee", I say "coffee"

2009-04-02T12:58:00.000-07:00

Today after visiting Pancake Rocks, I had an unpleasant run-in over coffee. Now, when I was a teenager, I was a barista. I'm not that old, but to date myself anyway, this was before Star*ucks took off and became the McDonalds of espresso. In fact, Star*ucks was still a quality espresso shop modeling themselves off of the fantastic coffee one finds in Italy. Where I worked, we served Torrefazione coffee (before it was bought by Seattle's Best Coffee), and I had a real-life Italian lady come to my shop and teach me how to make espresso the Torrefazione way.

Here is another caveat. I have traveled the world and US extensively through work and play, and have ordered my favorite caffeine delivery system in all of them. I have had variations of the roasted and brewed coffee bean in Seattle, SanFrancisco, the Midwest, Texas, New Orleans, (and most other non-descript regions of the US in between), US-flagged-SIU-union-stewards-department-manned ships, Canada, Mexico (Mexico City, and the Pacific and Yucatan beaches), Central America, South America, Spain, Japan, Korea, Thailand, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Tahiti, Fiji, Singapore, the Heathrow Airport (London), and NEW ZEALAND. Even within the confines of the United States, I know coffee comes in different forms, flavors, prices, and cultural importance level.

At the souvenir shop across from the entrance to the famed "Pancake Rocks", they advertised "iced-coffee". As it was one of the few hot days we have had this lovely autumn in NZ, I thought it would be a great treat. My only expectations were that the drink would have coffee and be cold. Other than that, I was just waiting to see what I would get. I ordered two iced-coffees, then came the questions. "Do you want cream?" No, thank you. "Excuse me miss, would you like that sweetened or unsweetened?" Unsweetened, please. "What?" Oh, just black. In the states we call no cream/milk and no sugar "black coffee". The barista gives me a confused look, gets the manager. "We make iced-coffee with milk, sugar, and cream" it goes on and on. I say make it the way you make it, and the manager starts yelling at me that I need to be more specific when I order drinks, and by the way, who would ever put cold water and no milk in iced coffee? When I asked what I would get if I ever ordered an iced americano then, I was told I would get two shots of espresso, hot water, and a few cubes of ice. Hmmm......sounds like luke-warm coffee to me.

The main thing is A. He was having a bad day, B. There has to be assholes in every country, and C. Those people are probably assholes as they have never left their corner of the world.

So this entry is for Kiwis and American coffee drinkers, starting with an explanation for American espresso and coffee drinkers:

In the states our basics are Espresso, Americanos in various sizes and number of shots (espresso and hot water), Lattes (espresso and steamed milk with a bit of foam, or if specified, no foam please), cappuccinos (wet = 1/3 each espresso, milk, foam and dry = foam) then the various flavored versions. Iced versions come with espresso poured over ice with the cold equivalents of water or milk according to what is required (americano = cold water, iced latte = cold milk)

New Zealand is a bit different. First, there is no such thing as drip coffee. I have seen a total of two drip coffee machines in my travels, and no filters in the stores for them. French Press coffee is called, "Plunger Coffee". You will not find bottomless coffee in the diners. That's good news, as most coffee is espresso, and very good espresso. However, it all comes in one sized cup, and is a double shot unless specified otherwise. If you want a strong americano, instead of ordering a double short americano, you order a "long black". If you want a weaker cup of coffee, you order an "americano". Espresso is a "short black". If you want a latte with no foam, you order a "flat white". If you want a bit of foam, you order a "latte". You can get mist flavors in between as well. The grand finale is the iced coffee. "Iced-Coffee" means the following: Two shots of espresso over a few cubes of ice, cold milk, sugar, whipped cream, and cinnamon. At least, this is how the souvenir shop outside of Pancake Rocks makes "iced-coffee" In the States, this would be an "iced latte with whipped cream", so, you can see my confusion.

New Zealanders visiting the States: be prepared to know how many shots you want, and whether it's short, tall, or grande, plus non-fat, 2%, whole, or soy milk, decaf, and a pick of about 30 flavors, and how much foam you want if you're that picky about your "flat whites". If you want your decadent version of "iced-coffee", I would reccommend ordering a double grande iced mocha or vanilla latte with whip.

Either way, when I ordered and paid for two iced-coffees, I would have been happy to be handed an iced-latte or an iced-Americano, but instead the owner of the shop decided I was a moron with no taste to think "iced-coffee" was anything but espresso, milk, sugar, whipped cream, and cinnamon. I think his dog died this morning.

A bit about the rest of the world from my experience only: In Mexico City and Barcelona, you can order "Cafe con Leche" which is similar to a latte, except nothing like it. They bring you strongly brewed coffee or espresso, and a small carafe of warmed milk. Excellente. In South America, coffee is mainly instant Nescafe. They bring you a cup of hot water, and a jar of Nescafe to make as strong as you like. The Thai's in America make iced-coffee which is strong instant coffee with canned sweetened-condensed milk poured over ice. In New Orleans, your coffee comes with chicory, which I believe was used as a coffee extender during war-time, and is best served with hot beignets. In Texas and the Midwest, they make buckets of canned Folgers or the like, and Seattle has all of the above, but most notably strong, freshly ground, drip coffee, and a range of espresso options, not just Star*ucks. I have the following methods in my own home of making coffee: three drip machines, an espresso machine, a camping espresso machine, percolator, "plunger" French Press, and single cup drip.

So travelers, obviously what you get at home is not what you will get overseas or the next town over; and to employees in the tourist industry, people form other parts of the world do not automatically know how people in your corner of the world do things, so MELLOW OUT AND EXCUSE MY IGNORANCE!!!!!

A pause just for fun

2009-03-26T22:31:00.000-07:00

Just in case you all thought we weren't enjoying ourselves, here are some of our pictures to prove otherwise!

Enjoying the Christchurch Rain

Though Robin Likes to Consult the trail maps, Grant prefers to use the force and think like an Elk

Thirsty at Rain Camp

Robin Enjoys the Tasman Glacier

Robin thinks like a local and tries out the Marmite, "Suitable for Vegetarians"

Searching for the local wildlife in Oamaru, we found some of our own

Ulva Island Rope Swing

Successful Te Anau Fishing, "Suitable for Vegetarians"

A bit lost on the trail, Grant does the only thing he knows how

Robin is not impressed.

Robin tries out for the crew team

L-I-V-I-N!

You can't beat a beautiful day for beers on Doubtful Sound!

Too much booze to bungy.

2009-03-26T22:03:00.000-07:00

   Lake Wakatipu, Queenstown area

Well we finally escaped from the Fiordland, though just across the hills really. We ran into a patch of really nice weather so what did we do? That's right, we wasted it by driving around and getting a little boozy with our new Welsh friends.

We spent one night at a Queenstown holiday park (like a KOA campground) and wandered around the downtown area. Queenstown is well known as the adventure capital of New Zealand and is where bungy jumping was born. Bungy jumping is alive and well, along with many other adventure sports. It reminded us of Disneyland, and was overwhelming.

   "Disneyland Ride" aka jetboating on Shotover River

Grant really wanted to go to a microbrewery, but wouldn't believe me that there were none. We did find a branch of a Christchurch brewery, so settled for familiar brews. It was a local holiday, so most businesses were closed, and so was a weird mixture of a town teeming with rowdy tourists with nowhere to go.

A side note on New Zealand labor regulations. On public holidays, all businesses must close, or pay their employees time and a half plus additional compensation. This is mandatory, not customary or an extra perk for unions. Therefore, they either do close, or they tack on a 15% surcharge to your bill to make up for the high cost of labor.

We also took care of a few chores in the big town, including getting Robin a new camera since hers had died at the beginning of the trip, and broke again soon after we "fixed" it in Dunedin. Her old camera was awesome, but at four or five years old, was a little behind the new point and shoot Robin got. We then escaped to the small gold-mining town of Arrowtown where we enjoyed the nice weather and new brewery.

   Lunch at Arrowtown Brewery

The Arrow Brewing Company is a fledgling microbrewery that does a couple of really nice beers as well as some gourmet pub food. We really enjoyed all of their beers and they made Robin a really nice vegetarian pizza. It was nice to have a bit of a Seattle microbrewery experience on our little vacation. New Zealand is set to have an explosion of microbreweries like the Pacific Northwest did in the 80's-90's. With great local hops and grains, and creative people, the fledgling craft-breweries are off to a great start. Many, including the Arrow brewery, concentrate on local sustainable ingredients as well as great brew and food.

After our brewery lunch, we settled into a campground to work on our sunburns and play with Robin's new toy. Soon after we parked, a Welsh couple we met in Te Anau pulled in and we invited them over for drinks. After a few rounds of beers, our new friends contributed some NZ champagne and we all agreed it would be a fine idea to go out and find some more to drink along with some food.

   Some R&R in Arrowtown

After a few more bottles of wine and a nightcap of beer, we somehow wandered back to our little home of a van. The next morning, we all agreed that the second bottle of wine with dinner was a bit unnecessary. All we could manage was to drive to a lake to nap, have some brekkie, and mellow out.

Later that afternoon, we found the right mixture of hair-of-the-dog, coffee, sleep, and food to make the drive along Lake Wakatipu to Glenorchy, where much of Lord of the Rings was filmed. Actually, all around the Queenstown area is the Rings country, though we didn't go to any specific sites.

   Lake Wakatipu, drive to Glenorchy

We hiked along the other side of the Routeburn track, which provided for nice views of a river gorge and little valley.

   Routeburn Track

We got to see one of the Huts, which provide bunks and cooking facilities. They are nice, but not like what I hear Switzerland provides, i.e. cooked dinner and beer/wine for purchase. Including our hike to Key Summit, we hiked about 1/3 of the Routeburn track.

   Dart River, road to East end of Routeburn Track

After our hike, we tried to make some headway on the drive to Wanaka from Glenorchy and only made it just out of Queenstown. We had great plans for a scenic drive from Arrowtown to Wanaka, but heavy rain woke us up in the middle of the night fearing that the awning might rip apart from too much water weight. The twisty, steep road to Wanaka was very pretty, but the rainy weather didn't allow for the alleged spectacular views. Ah well, at least there's another new brewery to try in Wanaka, and hopefully some good hiking weather for the Mt Aspiring National Park.

   From the Bureau of Silly Walks

Doubtful about Milford? Not a chance.

2009-03-23T14:23:00.001-07:00

First of all, WOW! The trip from Te Anau to Milford Sound and back is amazing!! We decided to drive over to Milford Sound and meet the kayak trip rather than take the charter bus for an extra fee. Boy was that a good idea! We don't really like the tour bus deal. They say to give yourself at least two hours to make the drive with no stops. We made the drive in 4 hours!! Plus, at the top of the pass there's a one-way tunnel with a stoplight that takes 15 minutes. We would have been really late to our 0800 kayak appointment if we hadn't gone the day before.

Now I think we mentioned the sand flies before but holy moly!! Those little buggers are ferocious! It was really windy and rainy the night before our kayak trip. The van was shaking so hard we couldn't sleep, and the rain came through the back window. We thought for sure the trip would be cancelled. But we got up and made the meeting and since the weather changes so fast, we were fine for the boat trip, albeit in the rain! They say that's the Milford Sound experience though so what the hell....

The kayak trip was really fun, and Robin took over the captain spot on the two-person kayak while Grant took care of camera duties. You can't row when you're taking pictures so Grant thought he was getting the better deal with less rowing. Grant can't see behind him to know how little Robin is rowing though so maybe it was more even than we thought? Our guide is planning on being a river guide in Montana this summer with his girlfriend who is from the Flathead lake area so that was fun talking about the Rockies with him.

Some of the interesting things we saw in Milford Sound were Mitre Peak, which comes straight out of the lake 1692 meters.

These mountains are so steep, that a funny thing happens: tree slides. The way vegetation forms on these rock faces, is first bits of moss cling to the cracks, and sides. Once that is stable, shrubs and trees start in intertwine with each other carpeting the slopes, but not really setting roots into the earth or rocks. Occasionally during a storm or what have you, a tree at the top will slip a little and bring everything down with it in an avalanche of trees. It takes 100 years for it to regenerate, meanwhile leaving huge scars in the landscape. There is also a permanent waterfall we kayaked right under that is three times the height of Niagra Falls.

That was cool, but Robin didn't have the nerve to steer us too close to it. One more intersting thing is when Cook sailed into Milford Sound there were so many birds that the sailors could hardly hear each other talk over them! Now something like 70% of NZ native species, mostly birds, are extinct do mostly to the introduction of the rabbit, rat, stoat, and possum. It was intersting for us to paddle along the same route as that great explorer, and to see that though the birds are gone, it still looks largely untouched by humans.

After the kayak trip we went back over the pass and down the highway a wee bit before stopping for a hike to some cool waterfalls. There we got an upclose look at how these waterfalls carve out the rock, leaving odd holes and formations. Most of these waterfalls are not permanent, but when it rains, tons of water comes gushing down the face of the mountains forming impromptu falls everywhere. We found a nice little campground to stay at where they had a museum that seemed like a practical joke. There was a shackle that was supposedly from Capt Cook's ship, though it just looked like a big rusty shackle. Neat anyway.

The next day we made a 3 hour hike to Key Summit, which is the beginning portion of New Zealand's famous Routeburn Track. There were numerous trampers, but the hike was well worth the view as the clouds had lifted and we could see so much more compared to the previous two days. It was really neat climbing out of the rainforest and above the treeline to a subalpine environment. It is all so dramatic; the weather, the steep mountains, the water, and the change of scenery, all changing over hours and minutes, driving, walking, or standing still.

We retired to Te Anau for pizza and a good clean-up of the van which desperately needed it. Then we booked a tour for Doubtful Sound. We tried to get on the kayak tour again but they were full, so we decided to take a day off and take a busdriver's holiday (boat cruise). First we went back to Manapouri for a 4 hour hike on the Circle Track. We had to hire a row-boat and row ourselves across the small river to get to the start of the hike. It was a nice pleasant walk on spongy leave strewn forest floor for about 30 minutes and then it was literally straight uphill for an hour and a half! There were no switchbacks of course, and at some points it was like climbing a ladder using the tree roots for rungs! But once again the view at the top was worth it.

The Doubtful Sound is pretty remote, so to get there you have to take a 40 minute boat ride across lake Manapouri, then a 22 km bus ride over the pass and down to the sound, and then we had a 2-3 hour boat ride on the sound out to the Tasman Sea. When we woke up the morning of the tour we were kind of glad that we weren't kayaking because there was frost on the picnic table and it was colder than we cared for. On the plus side, it was a beautiful clear day. They say you can't know the weather out on the Sound until you get there as the weather in Te Anua can be completely different. Well we were in luck as there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It is very rare to see the Doubtful Sound in such conditions and it was absolutely stunning! It was also quite striking as there were hardly any waterfalls at all compared to our time in Milford Sound as it hadn't rained in a few days.

According to our tour guide, the Doubtful Sound was named by Capt Cook when he remarked that if he sailed into the sound, it was doubtful there would be enough wind to carry his ship back out again. Consequently he never sailed into the sound. The sounds in the Fiordland are also all misnamed in that they are all fiords (created by glaciers) and not sounds(created by rivers). But the English apparently have no word for fiord since they have no glaciers really.

Along the tour we also got to see the Manapouri Power Station, which is quite a remarkable engineering site. The power station was built during the late 1960's to supply power for the aluminium smelting plant located down in Bluff. Aluminium is made by passing massive electric currents through the ore slurry to smelt out the pure metal. The NZ govt allowed the company to investigate the use of the hydro-electric power possible with the level of the lake above the sea. This caused an environmental outcry as the lake was planned to be flooded by 30 meters in order to make an efficient power plant. The enviro's won, and instead of raising the lake level, the companies dug a bunch of holes into the hard rock and located the power station below the lake, and underground, with an outflow tunnel to the Doubtful Sound. Anyhow, it's quite impressive to see this giant underground hydro-electric power plant that was created a by a lot of tunneling! And it is still used primarily for the aluminium smelting plant, with only 15% going to Kiwi's homes.

After a long day of touristing around, we stayed one more night in Manapouri before heading out of Fiordland and on to our next adventure in the zoo of Queenstown!
Cheers!

Windy Road

2009-03-17T14:38:00.000-07:00

Since we last checked in we have done quite a bit. After leaving Dunedin, the wind and rain continued to pick up. During the drive to the Catlins it actually started snowing and hailing on us, and the wind pushed our sail of a van all over the road. We ended up skipping quite a few of the highlights of the Catlins while heading straight for a campground to chillout and warm up. The Whistling Frog did the trick. They had a little restaurant and real bar (where we got a taste of the Invercargill Brewery Beers Stanley Green and Pitch Black - the first real microbrews since Christchurch). We parked right next to the share-kitchen and made a very late lunch, then it was 16 hours in the van staying warm and dry and reading.

In the morning we headed to the Cathedral Caves. It took quite a bit of motivation to go out adventuring in the rain and wind. The caves are on private property so a fee was in order, but it was a nice hike down a forested hill, then a trek across the beach to get to the caves. You may have already guessed it, but the wind had continued to build overnight, so it was a little hard walking on the beach. On the plus side, the torrential rains kept the sand from blowing in our eyes! The hike through the trees wasn't too bad, but once exposed on the beach, it was really windy and nasty and by the time we got back to the van, we were soaked! We tried to keep slogging through the sights, but could only manage a real stop at the fossil forest beach at Curio Bay, which was really worth a look.

Fossil Forest

There we chatted up a D.O.C. ranger who was keeping an eye on the moulting penguins. As he put it about the weather, "Well, what do you expect when you come to the far ends of the Earth? You want the weather to be appropriate, right?" Well, sure. Considering how far south we are, the next stop being Antartica, I suppose this is the weather most people would expect (though it's highly unusual this time of year). Later, we read newspaper reports saying the winds in that area had reached 180 km/hour, and the ferry to Stewart Island had stopped running for a full day. So all in all we were sort of proud of ourselves for getting out there in the weather and keeping on with our touristing!

Very Windy at the bottom of the Earth in New Zealand!

After too many cold nights in the van, we'd had it, and got a hotel room for the night in Invercargill. While trying to re-supply in town, we found ourselves in the twilight zone as none of the grocery stores sold beer!! After our second store we had to ask what was going on and found out that there's some weird rule about selling alcohol so you can only get it at the Super Liquor or Liquorland! Plus, the local microbrewery can't sell their beer at these places since the big breweries have the power and push the little guy out.

Ulva Island Beach

The owner of the hotel convinced us to make reservations to spend a few nights on Stewart Island, the southern most Island of New Zealand, and a bird haven. The weather finally eased, then broke into blue skies and sunshine. Ulva Island within the main harbor of Steward Island was the real sanctuary. With birding book in hand, we spent four hours cautiously walking through the forest and spotted quite a few of the birds listed, though upon returning to Steward Island, we seemed to find the elusive Tui everywhere. No real kiwis though! We also finally spotted some penguins on the boat ride over.

Our hostel was positively awful, as they catered to large group tours. The first night was of course the Rugby team with girlfriends in tow, who wouldn't even let us in their group to drink piss (beer), so then they were just annoying. Then it was the group of wayward teenagers. The day we left, it was kids camp, with twenty or so little'uns running around wreaking havoc. My my. I say, if you go to Steward Island, spring for the nice hotel room above the bar.

The highlight of our trip was definitely quiz night at the only bar in town, which though famous all over the UK and colonies, is not an American tradition. We were paired up with a random couple, and had a great time trying to answer the UK oriented questions. The husband was an American expat and web designer, and he agreed that NZ internet does suck. They are about ten years behind America, and don't know what they are missing, so don't seem to care. I mean, how do they survive without Youtube? (ha ha) He continued saying America does not have the fastest and best internet, and we don't know what we are missing either. So that's the story with why it's such a pain for us to try to upload pictures. Our trivia team didn't come in dead last so that was fun, though I suspect the 5 jugs of beer we drank probably means we lowered our teammates' usual average. They have won quite a few times and guess what you win? That's right, about $40 bar tab!! What a beautiful thing! Plus, they always pass the whisky box around to collect everyone's spare change and donate it to some local worthy cause.

We had a nice ferry ride back to Bluff and drove to see the famous end of the road sign for the bottom of NZ and to go to the Drunken Sailor bar - but those sissies were closed at 4 pm on a Sunday afternoon when the ferry landed!! Stupid tourist gimmicks!! Where are the real drunken sailors? You can bet we did our part....

Aaarrrgghhhh!

Back to Invercargill, and onwards to Te Anau, with a great stop at Lake Manapouri where we did it up Lake Mead style as long as we could stand the sand fleas. They were relentless, and the lake wasn't that warm, but it was nice to put our swimming suits on after three weeks of them being dead weight.

Lake Manapouri Picnic

We've booked a kayaking tour of Milford Sound, and then will try to see Doubtful Sound. We are considering doing the three day Routeburn track when the weather clears (another front has moved in and I am typing in the rain, though no wind, so I'm pretty stoked).

Until next time, Cheers!

Look, pictures

2009-03-12T01:58:00.000-07:00

More posts to follow....But look back for now

Rain rain, go away

2009-03-10T17:43:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, March 10 Dunedin

One night in Dunedin. Rain. Walked to pretty tunnel beach just as we had two hours of clearing skies. Rain. Night in a hostel with a nice shower, but not so nice kitchen. I hate sleeping out of the van as you have to move everything! Today, rain, wind. Albatross viewing was a bust as there was a cruise ship tourist invasion. Too crappy to hike down to lovers leap and sandfly beach. So we are in the van, finishing our blog, will find an internet cafe, then tomorrow off to the Catlins, where we hope this two weeks of craptastic weather will turn into a few settled days of sunshine. Even the locals we spoke with were a bit put-off by the cold wet weather- they mentioned that it was more like May/June weather than early fall weather! So even though we're a little disappointed, so are the locals. Sorry to complain, but today it's hard to keep our spirits up. On the upside, laundry was cleaned, Robin's camera was fixed, Grant got a haircut, and we finally purchased the ever elusive hard-sided chilly-bin. D'oh! I forgot we have to go get ice!! Cheers.

Penguins or bust

2009-03-10T17:38:00.000-07:00

9 March 2009
After leaving the Mt Cook area, we got one more good picture of Lake Pukaki and the stormy mountains we were escaping.
We made it a few kilometers south and found a nice little hike down a random road in some geologic formations called the Clay Cliffs - very picturesque setting with a nice river where lots of fishermen were out and about.

Then we spent a few hours driving east toward the coast and Oamaru. It was Saturday and the roads were 'packed' - even though there were some motorcycles out enjoying the nice sunny weather, we hardly saw any cars. There just aren't that many people in New Zealand, and most of 'em are on the North Island.

Oamaru is a nice little coastal town and has some penguin viewing areas - Robin was really excited about seeing some penguins so we got a camp spot in the downtown holiday park for the night. The campground was actually on the town botanical garden which is very nice and even has a croquet field - perfect for white clothes and champagne; now that's what I call a sport!!!

Well, we tried to go see the yellow eyed penguins but it was molting season so most were hunkered down on the cliff face waiting for their fur to change - apparently they don't eat for a few weeks while they molt, so there was very little activity - only a handful of them were actually out on the beach - we saw one but from a long way away. We could also see a couple on the cliff face, but they were hidden the grasses so no photos.

The penguins are out there, somewhere!

We went back to town for food and almost missed all the restaurants - they close early here for the most part, even on a Saturday night. After our meal we went to the local pub and met a local who chatted us up for a while and answered some of our New Zealand questions. He was from Auckland, and told us that the south island was obviously more rural but also had a bit of the "you're not from around here are you?" attitude. We decided that might have some truth to it. Other intersting things we learned from our local expert was that military service is not compulsory in NZ, marijuana is illegal and not taken lightly, there might be a bit of an alcohol abuse combined with physical abuse problem here, and that they lowered the drinking age from maybe 20 to 18 and he thought it was for the worse because now kids 11 and 12 are trying the drink a bit. But then again, he was a recovering meth addict so....

When we woke up in Oamaru we were running late for the 10 am checkout time, so we drove to the beach to make breakfast as the sun was shining. As Kris Kristofferson said, the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad so I had one more for dessert...
The beach is a nice place for such things. But, despite the color of water looking like the south pacific, and the water actually being the south pacific, it was damned cold! I guess a swim in Jackson Lake in July would have been about the same, but the windy cold air wasn't that inviting! Lots of cool rocks and fun wading though!

When we went to town looking for the cheese factory, the weather changed drastically - the temperature dropped about 15 degrees and it started raining so we decided to head south towards the Moeraki boulders and camp at a DOC campground which are much more like camping in the forest - very limited facilities but also much cheaper than paying for the holiday parks. We found a great little spot but it was raining and we had to cross two streams to get to the spot. The crossings or fords weren't wet when we crossed them at first. But it kept raining and raining and raining. What to do when it's cold and rainy and you've found your campsite for the night? That's right. Dig into the chilly bin for another beer!

A few hours and a few kilometers after the sunny beach!

Well, after dark we got a late night knock on the campervan with a flashlight - not usually a good sign! It was the neighborhood farmer who asked if we knew about the possibility of the flash floods on the fords to the campground - he told us that a for'night ago, about 5 different campers got stuck at the campground for about 3 days after the water flooded! He told us the only way they escaped was after the locals hired a flatbed trailer to haul them and their vehicles across the fords! With beer in hand we decided we better get while the gettin' was good! The neighbor generously offered his cow paddock for us to pull-up in - but our poor little toyota was stuck in the wet green grass on a mostly level field and we didn't think a wet cow paddock on a hill would be good for us. We motored a short clip down the secondary road and pulled off near a sheep paddock. Grant could barely get to sleep.

When we awoke from the night of rain, it was still cold and blustery but we toughed it out and went to see the Moeraki boulders. Lucky for us that we had to sleep in a strange pullout instead of the campground because we got up earlier than we otherwise would have. We drove to the beach and boiled some water for our coffee. With coffee in hand, we walked down the beach and had the boulders and the early morning beach to ourselves apart from one other German lady - until we started back towards the van and then bammo! Tourist invasion! People everywhere, and a full parking lot. Just as we were pulling out, we saw the giant bus full of tourists pulling in - so we just missed the rush hour of the boulders, and we were there for low tide as well. I guess sometimes things work out for the best!

Mt. Cook's a bust

2009-03-09T19:54:00.000-07:00

When we left Methven, we stopped for some awesome hikes along the way. First we went to the Puddinghill reserve and hiked down to a stream - by the way, Kiwis don't believe in switchbacks so it's straight-up and straight-down! We then drove up to NZ's largest ski field which is only a gravel road and guess what? Yup, straight-up. Our van seemed to be at the edge of its limits on that one! Apparently in the winter you can bungie jump with your snowboard or skis. Crazy. Next we drove about an hour south to get back on Robin's itinerary to hike in the Peel Forest. It was awesome. They classify the tramps as either walks, so somewhat easy well-formed trails, or trekking routes, which require much more gear and skill. Well, the "easy" walk required walking through (not across) numerous streams,

climbing straight up, straight down, straight up, you get the picture. It was fun, but like I said, these Kiwis don't believe in switchbacks.

On the way to the Peel Forest, we saw fields and fields full of elk - it was like having our elk refuge tour again! Ok Jackson Hole, here is a lesson on the global economy. Unless you shot it yourself, the elk steak you are eating right now probably came from here.

After the hike, we made it to Fairlie, where the next day while searching for such things as a cash machine, chilly bin, etc... where the phrase, "No... not in Fairlie" was the standard answer. It's not quite the back of beyond but....

After breakfast, we left Fairlie for Lake Tekapo and Mt. Cook. Lake Tekapo was somewhat disappointing, though the lake was pretty. The busloads of tourists didn't help, and the hikes surrounding the lake looked a little too barren for our tastes. So it was onward to Mt. Cook.

Just outside of Lake Tekapo, we picked up a young German hitchhiker to take to Twizel (twhy-zl). He was 18, and had taken a year off highschool to travel the world. He wasn't getting along with the teachers and was screwing up in school, so his mom sent him with a backpack and little cash to go work and travel. So he went to Australia, NZ, and was heading to China, Mongolia, Russia, then would hitch-hike back to Germany in time for school to start. It makes our adventure pretty puny, huh? Note to any frustrated teenagers - you could just complain all day or you could get yourself out into the world and check it out!

Stunning Lake Pukaki leads up to the Southern Alps and Mt. Cook. We couldn't see Mt. Cook yet, but were getting pretty excited about getting closer. The last 50km of lake started storming, with strong winds, rain, etc...At the Alpine village it became clear that we would not be able to see one of the largest and most scenic mountains in NZ. We sucked it up, and walked up to the Tasman glacier. You couldn't actually see the glacier, but the lake at the head of it had cool icebergs floating around. On a clear day, it was supposed to have stunning views of Mt. Cook, but considering we could barely stand upright in the wind and rain, no luck with the view.

Giving up, we headed to a campground with a bar and restaurant. Good thing too, because we were total amateurs and only had a few warm beers and a bottle of white wine left! Well, the "bar" wasn't a bar at all!! It was BYOB(bring your own beer/booze), or buy an expensive entree and get one glass of beer or wine, but no more. What the??? I accused them of false advertising, and we were off to drink crappy white wine. To top it off, they wouldn't let us use our own cooker, so we had to pack all our pots, pans, food, oil, spices, cutlery, plates, warm beer, etc...to the share kitchen where we elbowed our way through the other tourists to attempt to use broken hotplates. It was then that we knew Mt. Cook was a bust. So we're off to the Coast to see some penguins, and good riddance! The stormy mountains were pretty, though :-)

Good engine, great times

2009-03-04T13:26:00.000-08:00

Good News for us! Everything checks out with the van.

Cocktail hour at Methven Campground

As our mechanic said "she's a good little runner". The engine has a timing chain versus a timing belt, so no worries. He also said it looks like somebody has been maintaining it over the years, so that's good news. Our other worry was that she had been overheated as the last owner put a new radiator in, and during and after driving down the mountain passes, it smelled gassey and had a bit of smoke. He reassured us it's just as Grant thought, "it's a carburated engine, what do you expect?" So, we are pretty stoked that the mechanic likes our wheels. We also got a glowing report from the local museum clerk that the local mechanic loves his job , loves to work on cars and helps out the locals so we're glad we talked to him! We got some fresh new oil and filter, a new set of wiper blades and some confidence so now we're really doing it! While waiting for our oil change, we went for a walk in the pastures and hills (steep). As Robin said, "Are we going the right way? Where the hell are we?"

We are now in the mountains, where it is much hotter. The town we are in, Methven, is a winter skiing hotspot, so is very sleepy this summer season. Tomorrow we're looking forward to a little jaunt to the river beach and will do some hiking. Then we might drive to Lake Tekapo, then it's on to Mount Cook. Our plans don't go much beyond that, except to meander South. Hope all is well wherever you are.

Pretty river gorge near Methven

Summit Drive above Akaroa

New Set of Wheels

2009-03-03T01:12:00.000-08:00

Great news! We got a set of wheels. It's a 1987 Toyota Hiace 2.2 liter petrol totally kitted out. We were getting sick of shopping and twice almost bought something crappier just to get out of Christchurch. Then we saw an internet classified ad for this baby and jumped on it. We wanted to buy it straight away, but the couple hadn't been planning on selling it an hour after putting it on the market, so we had to wait it out over the weekend before taking it. It is fantastic and has most of what we hoped for. All of the other vans we saw were a mattress thrown on top of a platform with some crappy camping gear thrown in. This is a miniature motorhome with a bed that folds into a couch, storage in the way of built-in cupboards and whatnot, running water in a sink, refrigerator, and an awesome two-burner camp stove that rolls out for ease of use. Oh, and did I mention the awning? It makes a huge impact when it's dark and you're hungry and the beer isn't very cold, it's raining and you need to stand outside to cook. What? Is that experience talking?...It's a funky old van and it's awesome! I can't believe we don't own one of these in the states. (hey, there's no flowers painted on the side, and it's water cooled with a working heater-sort of, if you don't mind stopping and crawling under the front bumper to operate the heater control valve)

Ok, so I'll back track a little bit. Since we had a few days to kill, we took the city bus to the Christchurch gondola, rode it up to the top, then walked down the other side of the hill to the port town of Lyttelton. (According to the lonely planet, Lyttelton was the base port for such explorers as Scott and Shackleton) It had one container dock with three cranes, a lumber depot, and some other random commercial ships and boats. While Grant and I were walking around looking for lunch, we spotted an old friend from college whom we hadn't seen in six years. This is getting weird, the small world stuff. Anyway, Ian, Grant and I all had a few rounds (well, Grant and I did) and caught up. Ian is a deck officer on the University of Washington research ship (THOMAS T. THOMPSON?) and had been in port about a week. Today they were to head up to Auckland to do more ocean research. We had a good time, and boy were we glad it was he who had to work and not us!!

After getting our wheels, we took her on a test run to Akaroa, a volcanic peninsula that juts out southeast from Christchurch. Let me get one thing out of the way; it's really tough for Grant to concentrate on the driving because there really are a lot of sheep, everywhere! That reminds me of a good joke: What time is it when all the sheep are lined up backside against the fence in Wyoming?...

After a somewhat bad experience at a top-rated hostel/farmstay, we got our money back and went to a NZ version of a KOA. We tried out our new kitchen, and crashed. Today we spent the day touristing around. In the town of Akaroa on the water there's a bust of the captain and navigator of the Shackleton story who miraculously navigated the tiny JAMES CAIRD (basically a dingy) from Elephant Island to South Georgia after the real ship was crushed in the ice. You all should watch the the movie about this feat. Lots of Antarctic explorer related statues around these parts including Scott and Captain Cook in Christchurch. All are well deserved too as those were very impressive men. The ice-season is coming to an end in Antarctica and there are a lot of ice-folk cruising around Christchurch. Christchurch is the supply base and major airport for returning summer crew.

Back to Akaroa, we skipped the swim-with-the-dolphins tour, and drove straight to the top of the crater rim for some awesome views and a picnic lunch. Though it's been raining and cold off and on our whole trip, this afternoon we got a bit of sun which heightened the stunning scenery. Today we are finally on vacation...and it only took a week.

Tomorrow we will have the local mechanic change the oil and give us the low-down about our purchase. We've learned that in NZ they do a "warrant of fitness(wof), pronounced "woof") on all vehicles to ensure they meet basic safety requirements. Lights, brakes, windshield wipers, etc all have to be in working order or you can't register the thing. Another thing they check for is too much rust. We saw no problems or rust, just the usual you would expect from a 22-year-old carburated engine. At any rate, our wof is good until June,. We need to re-register in April and be able to resell so we're a bit apprehensive, as she is getting on in age, and been around the block a few times. Hopefully all is well and tomorrow we'll be on our way to Mt. Cook. Until next time, Cheers!

We Made It

2009-02-25T18:40:00.000-08:00

Grant and I made it to NZ! After a little initial confusion at the airport when Grant tried to get us on the wrong plane to LA when we were supposed to go to San Francisco, we made all of our flights with all of our bags! Air NZ was pretty good. They had complimentary wine and beer with refills in coach. The food was decent enough, and they had this incredible entertainment center with hundreds of movies, tv shows, games, etc to choose from. Grant tells me that this is standard on overseas flights, but I haven't flown overseas coach in almost ten years. For work I fly overseas business class quite often, and I still don't remember this range of options.

On our connector flight to Christchurch, we sat next to a really nice man who used to work in Antarctica, so obviously he worked with Patrick G! Buckwheat says hello, Patrick. As the saying goes, it's a small world...or is this an example of six degrees of separation? He gave us a lot of good advice, but basically told us to keep doing what we're doing, which is winging it and

exploring.

We did pretty well with the jet lag, and stayed up until 10pm with only a two-hour nap in between. We started our search for a campervan on day one, and so far it has been overwhelming. With a good nights' rest, today shouldn't be as daunting.

The Kiwis are already living up to their reputation of being warm, and friendly people. We stopped at an auto shop to ask for directions to a car lot we were trying to find, and they had no idea where it was, but gave us directions to a place they liked, which was all the way across town. So, a customer paying for his car offered us a lift. We took him up on it, and he drove us straight there while talking up a storm about NZ.

Christchurch is very nice, albeit expensive and trendy. Microbrews have been about $7-$8 NZD which is about $4-5 USD. Every restaurant I have seen has a vegetarian option, and we are not talking portabella sandwich and Gardenburgers. They are creative, interesting meals. I would say that this is the most vegetarian friendly city I have been to, much more so than Seattle, even. Of course, Grants "normal" food has been great as well. He had some spicy mussels last night, and the kumara-pumpkin mash was fantastic. . Shhh, don't tell Grant that kumara is another word for sweet potato, because he hates sweet potatoes!

Our hotel is nice. They are tiny rooms. Basically you get an affordable hotel ($60 US) with the important amenities i.e. free wireless internet, tv, restaurant and bar, but it's all packed into a closet. The bathroom is a glass-enclosed cubbyhole, so it does not afford much privacy. Grant and I are pretty close, but not this close. We are going to try to move into a hostel on Friday. So we're off, like a herd of turtles. We'll check in again when we buy our vehicle and move on. Cheers!

P.S. Our hotel "hi-speed" internet sucks, so I can't load pictures right now. We'll try to add them later.

Practice Vacation

2009-02-15T21:52:00.000-08:00

We decided to spend a week in Jackson at our condo before making the final push for New Zealand next Monday. We came home to our resident moose pair, mom and yearling, in my yard. We have seen the pair, or at least mom, in my yard for two years now. Unfortunately the camera was dead so take a look at these photos from October and then picture snow drifts around them.

Grant went skiing twice. Unfortunately, it hasn't really snowed in three weeks, so no fresh powder. But Grant could still ride the new Tram and hurtle himself down the side of a mountain, which I think is the main point.

Grant took me on a sleigh ride through the Elk Refuge for my birthday, and it was fantastic! I really don't think people should dismiss the tourist things because they are a lot of fun. I can't describe to you the sound of thirty male elk butting their antlers together practice fighting while sitting ten feet away, or the little yearlings mewing for their mothers. They kind of sound like kittens, but not really. It's pretty surreal if you've never heard it before. Now we have a few last minute appointments and things to do, and we will be on our way. Cheers!