Adjusting to the Kiwi World…

They drive on the opposite side of the road, for starters. I am constantly looking the wrong way when I want to cross the road. I’ve only been honked at twice and haven’t had a near miss just yet. They supposedly speak English ~ but they use all sorts of weird words and its more similar to British or Aussie English than it is American. Over here, when they are speaking of thongs, they are talking about flip flops. A jumper is a sweater. The currency is different -- $1 and $2 amounts are coins not bills (I’m pretty sure that is typical of most countries outside of the US). Everything is in metric and I’m still working on adjusting to those conversions. Everything from buying food to figuring out the temp takes me a lot more time. I look pretty stupid at times trying to figure things out. At major 4-way intersections downtown, when the pedestrian guy goes to green traffic is stopped and you can go straight or diagonal which is kind of fun.

Right now, I’m staying in a nice and quiet suburb of Auckland called Mount Eden. It’s called Pentlands – www.pentlands.co.nz. I am doing a work exchange for 2 weeks. So, in turn for cleaning for about 3 hours a day, 5 days out of 7, I don’t have to pay for my accommodations. I’m not cleaning the Pentlands though, I am cleaning Bamber House, which is slightly annoying. The Bamber House appears to be a little bigger and nicer. Of course, it would be nice if I was staying at the same place I was working, but luckily it is only about a 5 minute walk. Today I was assigned bathrooms. I didn’t finish all the bathrooms by 12:30 and when I got back to Pentlands one of the other girls I am working with, told me that I was trying too hard! She told me that you just do enough to get by so you’re out of there before 12 pm. I believe I have a habit of being an over achiever, but I don’t know that I’ve ever been told not to try so hard. It’s also sort of on the embarrassing side when your mate tells you to try less. I suppose I should have figured it out on my own. Yikes….

So that’s life down here in New Zealand for now. I don’t have to work tomorrow (Friday) and I’m very much looking forward to sleeping in and deciding what I’m going to do for the day.

Ps. There are not yet any pictures up because my laptop can’t connect to the internet at the hostel and I uploaded all the pics to my laptop and deleted them from the SD card before I realized I couldn’t get wireless. Hopefully the pics will be up soon!

Pinch me: I can’t believe I’ve become a Backpacker!

AND I LOVE IT! :)
Friday morning, I wake up and can’t believe I’m really in the CI. The striking view from the hillside allows me the opportunity to wonder at the beauty of this island. The palm trees reach high and never stop. The mountainous backdrop makes me feel like I’m in a movie. I lazily slept in, but no one really pays any attention to the hours, island time is incredibly free. Not only do you get it done when you feel like it, you’re free from cell phones (they don’t get reception here) and e-mail. There is no internet connection at the hostel and it costs about $10/hour in town for a slow connection. Rartonga is not on the trans-pacific cable lines. Oh well. This place is so exquisite I’m wishing I’d decided to spend more than 3 ½ days here. After breakfast, I finish my book and go for a swim in our lovely pool attached to the hillside complex. Next, I decided to go for a walk on the beach. I walked onto the beach at the bottom of the hill and I truly believed I walked for two hours without seeing a soul. I took gobs of pictures and strolled slowly along, attempting to take it all in but knowing I wouldn’t be able to. When I find a nice sandy spot (there is lots of coral/rock that makes parts of the water hard to wade into), and wade in. The ocean is very shallow, I think it made be connected to the reef off the coast. The waves do not crest anywhere near shore, but out at the reef which I think is about 5 km off the coast. (I decided it was too dangerous for my little experience of surfing to attempt it in the CI.) Reading and swimming away my afternoon, it seems like I’m in a dream. I rarely see people, if at all. The views are amazing and I shoot loads of pictures and try to work my magic as an amateur photographer. After spending hours away, I was hungry and knew it was time to re-apply my 45 SPH sunblock. The sun’s rays are so intense that I had a slight burn on my lower back (hard to put sunblock there by yourself). Friday evening, I went into town with several other backpackers to Nu Bar. When we left, it was a pleasant evening and Friday is apparently the big party night ~ it’s the only evening that bars are open past 12 pm. While everyone else was eating (they had a $10 steak special and I had already eaten back at the hostel before being invited out) it began to rain. In the pacific, rain is either light and short or comes down like a monsoon and last for an inconveniently long time. As the main form of travel on the island is on a scooter, its also quite assured you will get drenched. While most of the others were either leaving to catch a plane to Tahiti at the airport (around the corner) or decided to return to the hostel, four of us decided to adventure onwards into town. The bus does not run frequently, and 2 of us had come on the bus and 2 on the scooter. Ryan (a Scot) and Howard (a Brit) were nice enough to let me ride with Tristan on the scooter into town in the monsoon while they waited to hitchhike. Regardless, all four of us were soaked through by the time we arrived at Banana Court, one of two main bars. My skirt and tank took their time drying as we enjoyed the “local” beer. It says it’s the beer of New Zealand, but its exported from Hawaii? Ryan & Howard were so wonderfully polite as to allow me to take the ride back to the hostel on the scooter with Tristan, while they took the 2 am bus home. After a fabulously wet evening, I awoke on Saturday to more rain. No one at the hostel is particularly prone to doing anything. We played cards, scatagories, and such to enjoy our rainy day. Late on Saturday afternoon, the rain breaks and we get to see clouds of mist hanging lovingly on the mountain peak. Saturday night is all you can eat curry night at a place in town, so about ½ of us head into town to enjoy some yummy Indian food. Tristan was nice enough to share his $5 bottle of wine that is a “blend” of wines from Oz, and the evening remains dry ~ yippie! Everyone is so friendly and full of superb traveling stories. Sunday morning a majority of the backpackers pull out their finest and most appropriate clothing, awaking early, to go to church. I know it sounds unlikely, but its true. The Christian service is offered in the local language ~ Maori. The singing is angelic as the locals praise the heavens with their sounds. They speak a few words of the service in English and its primarily directed at the tourists who occupy the balcony of the church. After the service, next door is a free lunch buffet (the major draw for most of the backpackers who are as cheap as they come). We say a prayer over our food with the minister (who wears a tropical print shirt under his suit jacket) and dig in. It has a full spread of local foods. I tried some sort of coconut jello-y thingy, coconut upside down cake-y, papaya, and some other items I had no idea what they are called with some fresh mango juice. While I’m waiting in line for juices for my friends, I make a new little buddy. He barely can reach my knee but just latches on as we move through the line. He is just adorable and while he doesn’t speak a word, he slows me down considerably as he clings to my leg and just smiles up at me. He was just so adorable! After church and buffet, I have just enough time to go for one more swim in the rocky/corally ocean nearest to the hillside. It’s just fabulous. I can’t believe I’ve spent my three and a half days here in Rartonga already. The one consolation to leaving Rartonga, is knowing that I’m headed to Auckland, New Zealand and I have the window seat!! J J

Cliché, but true: Cook Islands, Paradise!

I reached Rartonga, Cook Islands, at about 9 am local time. I was wearing my black comfy pants and a t-shirt. Instantaneously, I broke into a sweat. It was probably about 32 degrees (Celsius of course) ~ roughly 90 degrees F. As I waited my turn to clear through customs, I could already tell that Rartonga was going to be fabulous. The clear, blue ocean is immediately visible and you cannot help but stare at the sights around you. On the other side of customs, they direct you to the proper pick up location (because there are soo many … not). Paul, Rebecca, & their small daughter were standing at the booth waiting to check me in. They crossed me off their list and directed me to the van where I hopped in and met some other backpackers. The short drive from the airport to the hostel was only about 15 minutes and full of indescribable scenery. Check out my photo album, and it just still doesn’t due it justice. When I arrived, Paul told me I was up in the red dorm off to the left. I grabbed my bags and headed up. Not everyone was awake yet in my room. I parked my bags on the floor and hunted for my tankini and sunscreen, and toothpaste. After one of the most refreshing times brushing, flossing, and such … I went and checked in. On island time, everything is done at its own pace. Checking in didn’t mean that I had to pay (as I still had to go hit the ATM), it just simply meant signing in. I walked and hitchhiked my way into town. I started walking, but its one looong walk. Thankfully, the landscape is marvelous. The blue of the sky and ocean is unending. The mountain peeks, the trees, flowers, and plants are all new to me and a wonder to take in. A very sweet local lady stopped and informed it was too hot to walk, where was I headed? I told her I’d like to go to town and she took me in. The main way to travel on the island is via scooter/moped. The speed limit on the island is 40, unless you are wearing a helmet, then you may go 60 km/hr. After my trip into town, I stopped at the store to buy food and waited for the bus. I sat and waited for I have no idea how long. I took the first bus to come by (there are only two: clockwise and counter-clockwise) and got dropped off at the bottom of the hill. I climbed the hill and was extremely exhausted and hungry. I made myself a bit to eat, then decided I just had to see the ocean. I think I’m quite the beach bum these days (RI’s fault!). After swimming for a bit with Isaac, the only other American in the whole place, I head back up the hill for another snack. The climb up the hill is not longer than 7 minutes, but its still soooo hot. I had to hop in the pool and than was able to meet more of the crew staying at Rartonga Backpackers. The hostel sponsors various activities and Thursday night (my arriving evening) was Island night. For $10 NZ they take you into town and drop you off at a bar called the staircase and you get to see a performance by the locals in traditional dance. Check out the video! I took a short clip of one of the local dancers. The musicians sing and beat time for the dancers. It was really interesting to hear about the culture of the CI and the people that inhabit them. Apparently there are 15 islands and each one has its own personality. After the show, my fellow backpackers and I hung out and enjoyed the evening. Exhausted, I arrived home by 12 pm and climbed into bed.

Cook Islands

Disastrous departure?

I didn’t not start off the trip on the best of foots, I have to admit. I had a near-meltdown when it was time to leave home in Kirkwood. I had forgotten my passport at the Ries’ house. As I furiously worried about how much time I had, Aunt Nina jumped into the car to meet Aunt Bridget on her way to the house. Mom & I met Nina at the turn to the airport as we all piled into the car together. Still nervous about time, we dashed to Lambert International Airport. We arrived at the airport just a bit before 2 pm, my flight was leaving at 2:25 pm but I had checked in on-line, so I wasn’t too worried. When I went inside to the desk and attempted to check my backpack, I had my second breakdown in less than an hour’s time. The Delta employee informed me it was 2 pm and they couldn’t check my bag. As I worried, she offered to rebook me into LAX at 10 pm. My flight for NZ was leaving, of course, at 10:15 pm. As I began to cry and start to think of other possibilities, I pleaded again for them to help me. Luckily, the second lady at the Delta counter decided to relent, and checked the bag. She looked up and said, “Well, you better get moving, they are not going to hold the plane for you.” I hugged mom and took off running. I was totally cheated out of my dramatic goodbye with hugs and well wishes and pictures and never got to see Aunt Kathie who drove out to the airport to send me off. Instead, I broke into a run ~ racing to beat the clock. As I approached security, I was upset and freaking out that I was going to miss my flight. As I was still crying, I asked the people in front of me if I could cut ahead. They all stepped encouragingly out of the way. I ripped my shoes off my feet and threw them in a bin, along with the rest of my loose belongings. I almost put my bag through the security machine without taking out my laptop. I don’t know if I’ve ever removed the laptop so quickly or haphazardly. I practically tossed it onto the belt. I walked through the check point, still in a state of panic, the security personnel yelled out “bag check.” I was petrified it was mine, and of course, it was. I shoved my feet into my shoes and frantically stared at the security desk. The man explained to me that I was not able to take any liquids pass security (I had brought 3 water bottles ~ they say hydration is the best way to fight jet lag) ~ I sobbed that he could have whatever he wanted I was going to miss my plane and therefore my international connection. “What time does it leave?” he asked. “2:25 pm, its already 2:15!” I blubbered. “Don’t worry. I guarantee you’ll make it. What gate are you leaving from?” he said in a calm voice, attempting to be comforting. “I don’t even know,” I whimpered. “It will be okay. It says on your ticket. Here you go.” And like that, I snatched up my ticket shoes untied, backpack ½ open, and clutching my laptop; read gate A4 and took off in a dead sprint. I arrived to hear “last call for boarding to Salt Lake City” and still in panic mode clamored aboard. I was lucky enough to be sitting next to a lovely lady named Rebecca. As I was obviously upset, she was so sweet as to help soothe me and help me to regain myself. I certainly cannot afford to panic like I did. As we waited for the flight attendant to bring me a box of tissues, I realized I needed to stow away my laptop, tie my shoes, and buckle my seatbelt. We were quickly in the air, and I don’t think it was until about an hour into the flight that I finally has settled down and was myself (sort of) again. The rest of the flight passed very quickly as Roberta and I chatted about my upcoming adventure and plans. In Salt Lake City, I only had ½ an hour, so I proceeded directly to the gate and climbed on board. I was lucky enough to have a exit row (more space) and was seated next to Bob. Bob and his wife were also on their way to New Zealand via LAX. It was quite fun as we chatted through the whole 2 hour flight about our upcoming trips. I arrived at LAX and much to my happiness, so did my backpack. I was quite excited when I checked in for flight 23 departing for Rartonga, Cook Islands. The flight was not very eventful, but I did have the fun of arriving in Papetee, Tahiti at 5 am and had a 2 hour layover that I was completely unaware of. Oh well.

So Many Things to Get Done ...

So, its Sunday afternoon and I'm leaving on Wednesday. Just like every year to end the football season, the superbowl will be on tv. Different from any other year, I'm picking between a few outfits and trying to decide what to bring along. Of course, now I need to learn all about rugby instead of worring about football..... All of the info you read about traveling, they tell you not to bring anything white (stains easily ~ which we know I already have issues not staining anything) OR cotton. Leaving behind anything white/light is tricky, but apparently I love cotton and it seems everthing I own is made of cotton. I'd really love to take along 2 sundresses, but apparently I only own 1 that is not 100% cotton. Yikes! So other things I need to do before I leave on Wednesday at 2:25 pm:

1. polish off my first aid/med kit with a smattering of items
2. get travel toiletries
3. a small battery alarm clock
4. a prong converter for the laptop
5. a travel journal
6. something to do that will keep me occupied for the trip that's only going to take about 20 hours. Right now, I have 2 magazines and 1 book ~ I will certainly need a whole lot more to keep me occupied.

Besides some shopping for myself, I have to get a wedding gift for my dear cousins who are about to tie the knot in Tampa. I have tons of people to visit with before I leave, cleaning up and packing away the remnants of my stuff, I need to create a new playlist for my iPod, moving out and cleaning up the downstairs apartment, and finding a moment to ensure I'm sane before I leave. So little time left, tons to do....