New Zealand(II)

Richard W. Frank

New Zealand (II)

"Welcome back to my world!!

Trying to organize thoughts in a relatively coherent matter, I seek solace and structure in a sublime bowl of latte. Life sure is hell on the endless roads of New Zealand. The days obscenely long and busy, the ATM and Visa cards stay in constant use, and life is a surreal Dali-esque highway of sensations and plays speeding by too fast to be fully appreciated.

After finally breaking my self away from the Nelson area after several weeks saying goodbye to the wonderful tracks, weather, and old friends, I boarded a Kiwi Experience bus surrounded by an extremely young and hung-over group of backpackers at 7am. I was rather dubious of this trip that smacked unpleasantly of structure and made me feel like that lowest of life forms--the coach tourist. Arrrgh! Promising myself that I could leave at my convenience, I settled into my seat with "alternative" music blasting over the stereo (something I would have to get accustomed to on this trip).

The two most surprising things about the next week were: how much money it was possible for me to spend, and, to my surprise, how much fun I had. We took six days to go down the wild west coast of New Zealand experiencing much rain (@15m of rain a year) and the rigors of bus travel. We started out kayaking around Able Tasman reveling in the sun one last time. The best way to describe the trip is to liken it to a college spring break bash on a bus traveling through some of the most incredible scenery I have yet experienced. The partying is incessant and sleep is a vague memory. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly one makes friends in this backpacking life. After a week we are a family with bonds of bacchanals and beaches and bodacious bungalows and bungee.

We arrived in Queenstown two days ago and have been burning a hole through our collective wallets making the most of this adrenaline Disneyland. Yesterday, we jumped from the Pipeline--the highest bungee on this hemisphere, 102m-340ft straight down. It was raining like it can only do here in NZ, the music was blaring, and we all tried not to look too scared. Yes, mom and dad I did survive and made sure not to tell ya’ until after. Tomorrow we are going river-surfing: putting oneself at the mercy of a class 4 river with a boogie board and faux-courage. There is a Thanksgiving dinner tonight at a British pub in town that we plan on attending. I have not met many young Yanks on the trail but numerous Brits. This place is just too bloody far away from anywhere.

Am on the wait-list for the Milford track which has been closed lately due to avalanche danger. There are countless other tramps to do to keep me busy until it gets better. Other than that, the latte is gone, the meter is almost up, the sun is calling us, and there are new friends to meet. Thanks again to y'all for keeping in touch. It is so cool to log on at yet another cafe and get letters that instantly take me back to places and people far away and long ago.

Unemployed and digging it,

Back to New Zealand (I)

Onwards to New Zealand (III)

Back to World Trip #1

Back to New Zealand (I)

Two seconds before plunging off the 340 foot Pipeline