Friday, February 22, 2013

First days in New Zealand

Amanda's Voice in White                   
Josh's Voice in Orange

Our Travels Begin



We hopped in the Prius and drove to the O'hare Baymont. Oh lucky day!... We had an extra treat...a jacuzzi in our room. I made sure to take advantage of it before heading to bed.

We woke up in the wee hours of the morning and took the shuttle to the airport. After some coffee and breakfast we boarded our plane for Los Angeles. Virgin Airlines was quite the upgrade from Spirit and we were very happy with our flight. We also realized we might have enough airline points from this trip to take take another (maybe Olympic National Park? Nicaragua?) I found myself sucked into a Top Chef marathon, and any flying anxiety I had quickly faded away.

We landed at LAX and our 12-hour layover began. Mr. Ryan Mommaerts and a lady friend of his picked up us for a late lunch. We ended up at The Kettle where we chatted and soaked up some of the (relatively) warm weather. Ryan returned us to the airport and we spent the rest of the wait playing games and napping.

The 14-hour flight to Australia wasn't too bad. We were able to get a row to ourselves and some decent sleep. I slept like a Koala and learned that a 6'4" grown boy can curl up and sleep on two airplane seats fairly comfortably. After a short layover in Brisbane we were off to New Zealand.

Day 1 – Christchurch

After a short wait our shuttle arrived, and we headed over to pick up the rental car. It was a bit of an adjustment to learn how to drive on the other side of the road. Josh would later end up driving in the wrong lane and briefly wondering why another car was driving straight towards us, but all-in-all we managed. The adjustment was worse then I thought. The turn signals and windshield wipers were switched, those dirty English. I would be ready to turn, then pop the trigger and WHAT the wipers, damn it where is the... WHAT I turn down the wrong side of the road.  AahahHH trigger wiper blades.  Turn.

A short, uneventful drive and we were at Kiwi Basecamp, our hostel for the night. We showered and walked down to the City Centre to pick up a few snacks and some supplies.

The Christchurch earthquake occurred two years ago and the city still has a good amount of rebuilding ahead. Streets are lined with piles of concrete and empty buildings remain in the same disorderly state they were in after the quake. Large sections of the city are fenced off and inaccessible, yet Christchurch is still making due. We went down to where a mall used to be and found shops and restaurants that are run out old shipping containers. We went to a cafe that was made entirely out of shipping pallets and a bar run out of old buses. It probably sounds horrible, but they've actually made these shipping container shops into an artistic statement. They are really cool, hip looking buildings, and hopefully they keep them around.


Bus bar. Great beers. A bit costly, 2 for $18.

Later into the evening we ventured out in search of some grub. We decided on a cheap burger shop, but finding it proved difficult. It was starting to get dark, and along the way we ran into a very tall and very large build man. He walked very close to Josh and eyeballed him as he passed in a very weird, aggressive manner. He hollered back something like "Did you say something to me?" Josh shrugged and said he didn't say anything and we, very quickly, walked away. Not sure what that was all about, but five minutes later Josh broke into a run and told me the guy was behind us again. My heart started pounding and I picked up my pace. Suddenly Josh came to halt and started laughing. HAHA "You jerk!" He got a nice slap for that one.

We were unable to find the burger joint, and instead we ended up at a Thai stand. We were greeted by a very friendly Kiwi who allowed us to be his last customers of the night. Josh had the Kiwi's recommendation and I opted for the green chicken curry. The food was fantastic, so we weren't too disappointed that we didn't find the burgers. We finished our meal and headed back to the hostel ready for sleep.


Day 2 - Mount Cook National Park

We awoke fairly early the next morning ready to head to our next destination, Mt. Cook National Park. At first our drive was boring: a flat landscape that felt a lot like Wisconsin. But as we drove, the road became hilly-er and mountains started to pop up in the distance. And sheep popped up, field after field, filled with sheep everywhere.

As we neared the Mt. Cook area we met up with a couple awe-inspiring lakes, Lake Tekapo and Lake Pukaki. It was a sunny day and the glacier-fed water was that perfect clear turquoise you see in photos...and so, we stopped at Lake Tekapo and took some photos. As I was leaving I practically walked into a young man wearing a Packer hat. I gave him his props. We headed back into the car and continued our journey. (Which, it was around this time that Josh decided he was back in the U.S. and drove in the right-side lane. Whoopsie.) Ok here it is. I was turning on to another road and as I turned I saw a woman in a car driving right at me. I was wondering, why is that woman on my side of the road? She is going to kill someone. Click, TURN LEFT you tall dumb idiot.


Lake Tekapo

Upon arrival we stepped into the visitor's center and paid for our sleeping quarters for the night, Mueller Hut, a 28-bunk hut made available to the public by the Department of Conservation. To get there we would just have to hike up a mountain! We packed our gear and changed, and our epic mountain journey began.

The first half or so trek isn't actually hiking. The stairs are built into the side of the mountain... over 1,800 of them. We actually found this to be the most difficult part of the hike. It was hot, the stairs were steep, and I felt soooo slooow and tired, but Josh was very sweet and encouraging and each ever-more-amazing view behind me helped keep me going. Everyone that knows me knows I am always sweet and encouraging. Right guys?


Ah look at those two.

Finally we came to the end of the stairs and started climbing small rocks/boulders. At this elevation it had cooled down and the process of finding your footing and handholds made the trek up more enjoyable and less exhausting. Soon enough the rocks turned into a massive bolder field. The sky was getting darker and I briefly felt a little apprehensive, but we carried on.

Amanda on the climb

The boulders turned into small, slippery rock, and here we really had to slow down and be cautious. As we came closer to the top of the mountain ridge, we crossed paths with some fellow Mueller Hut guests on their way back down. They were very encouraging and let us know we were only 15 minutes away. Josh and I continued our way to the top where a strong wind rushed over the ridge and Josh was almost blown away! He practically tackled me to the ground to shelter behind some boulders. We took refuge there for a minute or two, braced ourselves, and finished the last leg of our trek. The wind was so strong that as I crossed the ridge it pushed me to my heels and with a very graceful performance of the Riverdance I stayed on the mountain.


View from the wind block. Even more beautiful over the ridge.

The Muller Hut warden greeted us at the door. He gave us a tour and laid down the ground rules, this included instruction on how to properly use the toilets. (Solid waste and solid waste only is flown out of Mueller Hut, so it has to be separated from urine.) How nice, there was an illustration to go along with the instruction…


Oh that's how it's done. I was going to hug the lid. Silly me.

We made a very disgusting dinner of pine flavored risotto and fatty beef sticks that we picked up from the visitor center, hung out in the lounge with the other nine guests, and went to bed as the hut continued to be pounded by the wind the remainder of the night. The $8 meat stick exploded once I bit into it. Not a good feeling for dinner.

Columbia More

A little late, but still good for memories.

So the last couple of days have been a blur of cocaine and booze. Or the non stop action of Cartagena is making my head fuzzy. I spent much of that time running the streets of the old city searching for something unique, something mine. With 10's of miles on my feet I came to realize what I already knew, it has all been done. A city packed full of people honking, screaming, and drinking is what I found. With a gaggle of tourists  all shooting the same frame. At one point 5 separate people walk to the same spot and shoot the same shot. I travel to Santa Marta via shuttle and get there in 4 hours.

As I sit on the roof of my Santa Marta hostel and stare at the Andes I wonder why I didn't get here sooner.  Santa Marta is the oldest surviving city in South America. An old city with a lot of character. A few main streets with people packed wall to wall selling and buying the same crap as the other guy. Then there is a beautiful plaza full of greenery and sitting areas. Past those is the beach. A coca cola colored water laps on the shore, where in the distance two islands and a huge cargo ship off loads large quantities of cocaine. Ok maybe it is weed I don't know.

I have a grand conversation with a Canadian fellow who was biking the country. He seems to do a lot of solo trips and been all over the world. The next day I awake and make the trek to the mountains. I reach the taxi stop to find two Germans also waiting for a ride. We jump into a early 80's sedan, no fabric left on the seat, bare metal on the insides of the doors, a homey feeling. The Germans and I had a lovely GerSpaGlish convo. on the way through the bump mountain road.

As we reached the small coffee city of Minca the temperature dropped to a pleasant degree. I got out of the "cab", paid the man, and starting walking to where I thought the hostel was. I reached the basketball court and bumped into a woman Marie. She told me all about the place and how to get there. After the series of steps I reached the top. Greeted by people from around the globe I feel strangely at home. I end up talking with Kevin, Marie boyfriend, for quite sometime. We ended up going to a nearby waterfall where we spotted a local couple, girl with no bottoms on, but a top. Strange, I think why the bottom hanging out, oh well. Kevin and I get a good look and better chuckle and move to a different part of the falls. We splash about a bit and return to the hostel for dinner and long conversations. It's always fun to travel when you meet great people as I did. The next morning was spent wondering around enjoying life. We also carried a chop saw down to Santa Marta on the top of our "taxi."

Beautiful Butterfly

Small houses in Minca

View from Minca of Santa Marta

All and all Columbia was an insanely hot and beautiful place. Not many place have the history and culture still alive, but I feel part of this country still do.
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