funny facts abound

I have learnt quite a few things while I have been away.

• Northern Hemisphere compasses do not work in the southern hemisphere (FACT!)
• 'Phoning home is hassle; you dial 8233 9009 1 001385 3170 0011 44 1273 734 179.
• Sydney sucks money out of you
• More people are killed on NZ roads than on UK roads yet it has 1/20 of the population. There are crosses everywhere.
• I think New Zealand is the most beautiful place on earth to live
• The best places to stay aren't in the Lonely Planet.
• bananas and surfing seem to go together. Nutella and banana on toast, banana smoothie . . .
• the more seawater you drink the better it gets
• I miss duvets, baths and proper marmite
• I dont miss traffic jams, miserable rude people and crap weather

g'day! fancy a banana smoothie?

Sydney differs from Auckland and New Zealand in so many ways, notably regarding the number of people. I think Sydney has around 3 million people, which covers the whole population of New Zealand. Its big, sprawling, urban, hot, brash, and not without a hint of americana.

I think I have spent about a week here, and Im only now starting to get used to it. Becky up in Byron (another concept album name) said that Manly is the best and most civilised part of Sydney. While I think she is right, it wasnt what I was expecting, but Im thankful that I didnt end up in the den of iniquity that is Kings Cross. As in the area of the same name in London, the main
users of the streets are those with unfeasibly short skirts, large beards, or possess a permanent fixture of some alcoholic beverage in their street-filthy hands. Its great. Strip clubs are oiled and squeezed between backpacker hostels, tourist shops, fast food outlets selling huge varieties of partially cooked meat, and internet cafes. The latter is the safest place to observe the goings on in the world outside, as obviously I dont have the desire or money to visit the strip clubs. Honestly.

There is a cinema that I stumbled across in the Kings X area, and I had heard about it from others who had visited Sydney years ago. I Went to buy a Warriors T-shirt and found an NRL shop, above which, the shop-keeper explained, was a vegetarian curry house, and above that was a cinema furnished with cushions and beanbags. I havent been to watch anything yet, but it sounds good.

Im still deliberating on how to get to India for Daryls wedding. It sounds wonderful, but Im starting to think about the pennies, and that really wouldnt help. It would be a shame to miss, but if I havent got the money, then I havent got the money. Additionally Cathy, whos foolishness knows no bounds, has decided that nearly a month in New Zealand wasnt enough for her, so she is coming to Australia. This is a good thing as she has been trained well in tea making and sunbathing, therefore making an excellent travelling companion, and the sunbathing making good use of the time while I am drowning in the sea learning to surf.

The idea of learning to surf was based on having thousands of bronzed men carrying fibreglass under their arms, and not wanting to feel left out, I went and bought one myself. I didn't want a Mini-Mal when the world and their son were buying one, so I bought a second-hand 6'6 Ron Wood shaped board. I got a 3mm wetsuit for 30GBP and got a leggy, wax, comb thrown in. The guy who sold me the board also sold me his old decrepid board bag, which makes me look a little authentic, as it has seen far more wave action than me.

Faint heart never did something naughty, apparently so it goes in the Navy, so I got in the water and had a go. After two days, I have strained my shoulder, swallowed more sea water than a fish, and never saw one wave; not from above the water anyway. I cant even sit on the board for longer than a minute, but at least I have managed the knack of crawling back on my board and vomiting discretely. Im sure I'll pick it up. Soon. I hope. Else I think I might be finding a new way to pass the time when I should be out jobhunting. At least it beats jobhunting in the UK, where that would be spent out of the rain, staring at newspapers and thinking about whether to put another jumper on. Im perfectly happy to lie on my board, thinking about jobs, in glorious sunshine, spewing elegantly out of my smug mouth, and thinking about which cafe to sit at while I dry off.

Ive got the Aussie bank account, and Im sorting out my Tax File number this week, while also moving out of Manly Beach Hut, which is a perfectly good, clean hostel, is haunted with the atmosphere of a University first year halls of residence. There are about 4 plates in the upstairs kitchen, 2 tea spoons, a cheese grater and kettle that go on long vacations, tea towels
that were possibly used to dry cats in Egyptian times and all this for the hygienic allergic inhabitants who number in excess of 30.

Ive found a decrepit and charming hostel down the road, which has a much more laid back atmosphere, with less drinking and intersex sport, and has a yoga and meditation centre next door. While its far from ideal, its better than being woken at 6am as people come back from clubs, just as I wake them at 7am to go out for more drowning practice on my new board.

Nature report: No sharks seen yet, some snorkelling possible around Shelly Beach, bats with a wingspan greater than a metre live in a tree near the wharf, cock-a-roaches hang out in gangs on street corners and I found a cat nearby that is bigger than most dogs. At least two or three times the size of most cats, it carries off small children. Maybe I exaggerate about the children; they weren't that small.

another country, another entry stamp

There is one born every minute. I had a look at getting the Warrant of Fitness (WOF) extended on the car, but it failed and needed a minimum of NZ$300 work done, mainly welding. Niels the star who works at the Brown Kiwi, told me to just try and sell the car. After cleaning it up, and painting over the rust patches with a touchup brush, I took it down the car fair by Quay St. I sold it within half an hour. I hope part of the reason it sold well, was my salesman skills. I found out the blokes buying it were from Bangalore, and we talked about the bars there, and about Kolar Gold field just outside of town. They were so relaxed, they didnt even notice the WOF was about to expire, and I got NZ$1600 for the car. A loss of NZ$400 but then thats not bad for 3 months motoring and not having to do NZ$300 of work.

After that, I seemed to just be passing the time until my flight to Sydney. Some people I had met before turned up. Bob had been off on school holiday but couldnt get back in to 217, and arrived with Frank, plus Lisa and Ryan showed up. I went to one of Ryans gigs in Devonport along with Lisa. A latino gig, with the spring afternoon sunshine streaming through the windows, and girls dancing to the latin rhythyms. We got a lift back by another band member, a scottish nutter who drove like he knew the roads, but to a different city and on the other side of the road.

The rest of the week was spent reading, until I decided to try and see Trev and Maria before I left the country. Lisa was a bit bored what with Ryan gigging all the time, so she fancied coming with me. i had booked a coach, but Lisa wanted to hire a car. After ringing round a number of places, and me ending up missing my coach booking, Peter told us t just go and hitch.

Us? Hitch? Its 180km to Whangarei, and it was 2 o'clock. I had no idea if we could make Whangarei and by 630 we were in Orewa and going nowhere fast. We had got a ride north of the arbour bridge in Auckland by a builder, then a ride for 4 exits from a banker, then some stoned girls drove us to Orewa. After that, nobody looked at us. We stayed the night at Pillows, a place I had been to
before, and ate fish and chips on the beach. There the strange spectacular of a sunset with people practising martial arts on the beach.

Orewa is a sleepy coastal town, so that affected us and we went to bed.

I spent the morning writing a nice sign for Whangarei on some card, Lisa drew some flowers on it and we sat by the side of the road. No sooner had we sat down than a car screeches to a halt and we pile in. The driver hadnt even seen our beautiful sign, and we should have taken the hint. Eamon drove hard and fast and all us passengers found virtual brakes had appeared at our feet.

Once we arrived I found out that Trev and Maria had closed the cafe. For good. Still, the next few days were spent seeing all the friends I had met through Trev and Maria. Chris turned up with some friends. Danny showed up, and recognised Lisa from the meditiation centre. Lawson was still in town and seeing him again is like being hit with a 100 metre wave of friendly Glaswegain. We also paid a visit to the land Maria and Trev are buying as Warwick rang in the morning.

Seeing the land showed what Maria and Trev want to do. The tipi site was being excavated ready for the following week when the tipi gets delivered. It was also chance to say goodbye to Warwick and Jenny.

After a fairly messy night involving music, good food and wine, and some of my bad drumming, and a few hours sleep, Lisa and I were on the coach to Auckland.

It feels like I have condensed the past 2 days too much. It was exciting but fun, but random, but cool, but fattening, but drunk, but friendly, but tipi. . . .

Im going to miss New Zealand, the Warriors, the Maori town names, green culture, rural communities, amazing vistas, huge national parks, clean tasting beer, dangerous roads, glaciers, rivers, huge forests, cleansing rain, amazing animals, creative resourceful people, fascinating culture, but the Marmite is SHOCKING.

go north young man

Now its getting a bit last minute as we rush up north, but its worth doing rather than not doing it at all. The drive up to Fox Glacier was impressive as the scenery changes from glacially formed to created by rivers and the sediments from. The vegetation changes as well, so we were tropical rainforest by the time we reached the coast. The views of Lake Hawae and the north part of Lake Wanaka were breathtaking (Im getting bored of that word).

The road followed the coast perfectly most of the time, swinging in and out, with mountains on the right and the waters of the Tasman sea on the left. Fox Glacier is a very small town indeed; with one petrol station and one store come grocery come newsagent it was a peaceful place. Ivory towers backpackers seemed nice enough, and it had good views over town. Another classic example of paper walls, but beggars and backpackers cant be choosers.

We tried to organise the skydive for the following day, and as I got up at 0700 I realised I might as well go straight back to bed. The rain was coming down like curtains at a toddlers party. Instead we waited for a dry spell and then walked to the glacier. A rock fall had closed the path, but being adventurers we ignored the ropes and signs and walked up to the glacier, and noticed the 50 or so other adventurers. I climbed to the glacier itself and broke a chunk off. I like touching things and a big ice cube is no different. Its got almost a paste inside the ice from crushed rock and it makes your hands filthy and its GREAT!

Another night at Fox glacier, after trying and failing to get a reflection of Mount Cook and Mount Tasman in Lake Matheson, and we headed north. The plan was to get to Picton by 2030 that same day, as we had a ferry to catch. We passed through Franz Joseph township, near the glacier of the same name, stopped for petrol at the dreary town of Greymouth, grey by name and nature. We wanted to get to Hokitiki as its a big craft centre. In the end while most of the greenstone is found in the southern island, most of the Maori carvers are in the north island especially around Rotorua. i did persuade Cathy to come to the Kiwi sanctuary. There was a mental one legged Kiwi and a couple of others lurking in the dark.

Once we left Hokitiki, there was no hanging about and taking turns at the wheel we drove to Picton, taking the coast road north before missing Nelson and taking the inland road to Blenheim, arriving at Picton at 2027, pretty damn good.

We boarded the frry, found a space to sleep and tried to, if it hadnt been for some hard of hearing sheepshearers. While they couldnt hear each other, everyone else on board could here everything. It was 1am by the time we hit Wellington and I drove Cathy up to Mount Cook to take in the view of the harbour and the city, then we drove to Pukerua Bay near Muri, parked up and went to sleep.

I awoke to the sound of seagulls, the waves, and Leftfield at an earbleeding volume as Cathy turned the car to ignition to see the clock. Apart from the rude awakening, it was a lovely day and we drove for most of it, stopping only briefly for a stretch and fresh air by Lake Taupo before cruising into Rotorua. We rang the first place, Spa Lodge and they had space to we wandered over and tried to get over the stench. To say Rotorua smells nice is saying the US has an ethical foreign policy. The hot springs creep out of gardens, cracks in the roadside and on hills surrounding the town, so steam just appears from nowhere. The craft shops (such a patronising phrase) are great, with lots of greenstone carving. Its very touristy but who cares,

you have to see all sides.

The hot mud pools and geysers were great, although the geysers didnt perform for us, well, only a little. The Tamaki Maori Cultural village was our next stop in the evening. An honest and sincere expression of their culture Id like to think. We saw the challenge for when another tribe comes to visit, some songs and explanation of weaponary, a Haka was performed and then we ate a feast, a hangi, cooked in an earth oven. If it means that people are educated about the culture then I dont care about the number of coaches filled with tourists.

Its getting whistlestop now. Onwards to Waitomo and we saw the limestone caves to the north of Waitomo and the Waitomo caves themselves. The Limestone caves are huge, extending hundreds of metres below ground. Years were needed to chart the caves. The Glowworm caves down the road were spectacular and worth seeing, more so for feeding the noisy father and daughter to the glowworms. The spectacle should be enjoyed in absolute silence, as u need to be able to take in the site. Its like looking at a green map of the stars. So alien and so beautiful.

Back in the car, lets get to Auckland.

There was no room at the Brown Kiwi, the hostel in Ponsonby that I keep going back to, but Cathy was feeling generous and paid for us to stay at Mollies. This very classy motel has just been refurbished. There is antique furniture in the minimalistically decorated rooms. Perhaps styled too much with bachelors in mind, it was still luxury compared to the hostels. In the kitchen was a DISHWASHER!!!! WASHING MACHINE AND DRYER. The rooms were underfloor heated, and there were large TV's in the two bedrooms and lounge. The bathroom had a separate bath and shower, and both bedrooms were ensuite. The fridge and freezer were huge, the sheets expensive and this cost less than 50 pounds. Luxury. Better than a hotel room and nicer than the nicest motel.

Now it was time to move on, I had to sell the car and Cathy had to return home.