Annapolis is Nice

I have left houston, and I am now visiting my other sister Dian in Annapolis, Maryland. She has been pestering me to visit for some time, and since my nephew (her son) Grey graduates from high school on Saturday 6 June 2009, I decided to come out. It has been great fun. Tom Hartman, Dian's boyfriend has a 20 +/- foot trawler that is great fun to take out on the water.... I better back up first.

My sister lives in downtown Annapolis, just a few blocks from the State Capital/Naval Academy/Town Dock, etc. She lives about a block from the water. Tom lives on the next street over, and he is a little bit closer to the water -- Spa Creek. And although it is called a "creek" it is hydrologically connected and the same as Annapolis Harbor and Chesapeake Bay....in other words it all looks like the same body of water. Annapolis is located on a penisula bound by the Severn River, Annapolis Harbor/Chesapeake Bay and Spa Creek. Annapolis harbor is litterally filled to brimming with some of the nicest, biggest private yatchs I have ever seen, both sail and power yatchts. The residences are tightly arranged ala old world/eastern cities, and the residences on the water proper all have docks and boats, some quite nice (and large -- your $1M yatcht parked out back of your $2M house, must be nice...).

Tom's boat is on his neighbors dock at the end of his street. I arrived on Sunday 31 May, and it was a gorgeous blue bird day. From the plane, I could see zillions of these boats out on the Bay enjoying a sunday cruise. That evening, Tom, Dian, Grey and Grey's Aunt Jane VanDeMark took Tom's boat over a couple of creeks to dinner. What fun to take your boat to the restaurant for dinner! And what a beautiful sunset.

The next day I was able to swim in Anne Arundel County's nice olympic swimming center -- the first of three days in a row of swimming (hooray!!). After a winter where i went from three pools to one to none, it was sooooooooooooooooooo wonderful to be able to swim for three days in a row in a beatutiful, HUGE swimming pool. My back was happy, and so was I!! :-)

After the swim, Tom lent me his bike, and I biked around Annapolis in full tourist mode, taking pictures of the quaint colonial architecture, the many boats and yatchts and so forth and so on. In the evening, Dian and I took her two sea kayaks down to the public floating dock at the end of the street and paddled around Spa Creek. It was so much fun! and how glorious to burn so many calories after such a disappointing winter!

On Wednesday, Elise, Camille and Alex arrived from houston. It is nice to be here with both my sisters. It got a little gray and drizzly, but we went out in Tom's boat for an evening cruise anyway. We went around the Naval Acadmey and up the Severn River to another "creek", moored to a mooring (like that one?) and had some wine, cheese and crackers. The kids loved the boat ride, and we all loved getting on the water and enjoying the beautiful green trees lining the shore. It didnt last too long, as just a few minutes after stopping for the wine and cheese hour, the sky let loose its rain, and we made a mad dash back to Annapolis. It was fun, and just a little bit wet, but not cold wet, fun wet. (Does that make sense?)

The next day (today, Thursday 4 June, as a matter of interest), Elise, Alex, Camille, Gray and I took the Metro into DC for a little patriotic tourism in the nation's capital. We walked down the mall, stopped at the Washington Monument, then went on to see the big man in his big chair (Lincoln Mem) and the Vietnam Memorial, which I have not seen in person before (so to speak).

The Vietnam Memorial is a highly effective piece of public art. I am sure you are aware of the monument, the names of America's 58,000 war dead inscribed upon black stone as it slowly descends 8 or so feet into the ground, and then ascends in a wide wedge. Symbolic of America's descent into an unwinnable war, the names on the black stones resemble the enscriptions on gravestones. Plus the dark color of the stone reminds us that Vietnam was a dark chapter in our history. There are flowers, and gifts left beneath the names of loved ones. Visitors touch the stone and the names; many take rubbings of names from the wall. In the Lincoln Memorial, there is a sign out front requesting visitors to be quiet and respect the memory of our most popular president. Not very effective as it was somewhat loud in the memorial. (For some reason the whole mall seemed to be crawling with every middle schooler in the country -- something about it being the last week of school back east?) Meanwhile, the Vietnam Memorial was silent. As we descend into the monument, the street noise goes away, and the large numbers of visitors were truly, respectfully quiet. It was touching.

After the visit to these memorials we went to the Smithsonian Museum of the American Indian (both North and South America) for a really delicious, authentic (?) if expensive native american lunch. Then we explored the museum which was surprisingly good. I dont know what I expected, but it blew my expectations away. The collection of artifacts and replicas is amazing, and the study of the pre-columbian cultures was interesting. In some cases, the exhibits of particular tribes was quite frank about how much of their culture was lost during the European conquests -- some populations being only a few thousand today. Others highlighted the tribes' attempts to rebuild and keep what part of their original cultures they still have. I hope that this excellent museum helps the native americans re-connect with their native cultures, and I highly recommend this museum to anyone who visits DC.

Our timing was perfect as a steady rain began during lunch and continued into the night. We returned to Annapolis to a great dinner at Dian's with Dian's family (Grey, me, Elise and her kids) and Tom's son's and daughter's families. It was great to meet more members of his family, and they are all great people, just like Tom. Oh and Jane VanDeMark joined us as well, and it is nice to re-connect with one of the VanDeMark clan, too. (Brian returns from Uzbekistan later tonight for Grey's graduation.)

It has also been interesting to watch the unfolding Sonia Sotomayor/Obama's middle east trip unfold on TV. Everyone here goes to bed early (by 10PM, which of course is only 8 PM in CO, so it feels awfully early to night owl me) so in the late night hours, I like to switch back and forth between CNN, MSNBC, Fox News and Daily Show/Colbert.

Fox News seems more and more out of touch with reality as they continue their vitriolic attacks on Sotomayor and Obama. The reaction to both on MSNBC (left) and CNN (center) seems to be mostly positive, but to watch Hannity and Glen Beck you would believe that Obama is out of his mind, and Sotomayor is a racist. The most off-base and absurd contention is the Fox claim that Obama says that America is now a muslim nation? And Obama is not promoting democracy? Where do they get these obvious falsehoods from and do people really believe these nutheads (Hannity, Beck)? Why would Fox want Obama to fail? Why is bomibing these people and occupying their countires better than trying to work peacefully from a common understanding? Would we respond well if someone bombed and invaded us? The right-wing seems increasingly out of touch with reality and thankfully we now have leadership that is trying to bring the world back together, and undue the tremendous damage to US prestige, power and influence the previous administration has wrought. Ok enough politics, I am sure Ashley is fuming by now anyway, sorry WW but i call it like i see it.

Newo is OUT.

The Dark Lord Newo travels again

Howdy yall. thats right I am in Texas. I am on a two week off season hiatus, one week in TX the second in MD.

I left the Butte on Saturday 23 May, and after the four hour layover in Denver we leave the gate on time. However, the dark clouds that hovered over the mountains while i circled concourse B unleashed their fury and we went from one runway to a second and finally off a third to arrive about a 1/2 hour late in Houston. My folks picked me up and, thank god for big cities, as I could (and did) have a extermely delicious meal (chicken chili rellenos) at Hugo's at 10 PM.

My folks are the third resident to move into this super-swanky brand-spanking-new high rise condo on Kirby at Westheimer. Its 30 stories, but each story is 12ft or so tall. My folks live on the 13th in the northeast corner -- great view of downtown, with the medical center to the right. Interesting part of town, minutes to the museums, downtown, galleria, Joel Osteen's mega church.

Since my folks have just moved in, the awesome spectacle of the 11 foot floor to ceiling windows is somewhat soured by the oodles of unpacked and somewhat unpacked boxes, and stuff kinda strewn all over everything.

I was looking forward to sleeping and swimming, and was somewhat hindered on both counts: from the balconly I can look down onto the spectacular, large pool on the club level, floor 7. Oh it was a sight for sore eyes! Tomorrow I can help my parents unpack and then swim in that delightful pool! Nope, the pools ready to go, but the condo hasnt gotten the two permits yet for the pool -- by next weekend. OK.

And, my parents have installed blinds which are transluscent, so as the sun rose over downtown, it shone right into the media room, in which I was staying. Yall will remember that dinner was over late and we got in around 11:30 -- tour an all. the 6AM morning sun came a little early for 1/4 vampire me.

So, after waking, my dad and I walked over to WHole foods for double shot of wheatgrass (hooray!) and muffins. I get myself a sticky bun. WE come back to the condo, and then it is unpack three houses worth of books and stick em into one condo's 11foot floor to ceiling bookshelf wall. So I help my folks unpack over the weekend, and visit with my sister Elise once she is off her two days of nursing shifts, see the kids (we play Risk). The kids are excited as this is their last week of school, and Camille is excited about going to Camp Cheley in Estes Park. This is the same camp that I and Cousin Grey, and the Browns went to among others. Monday night at my sisters -- perhaps I will be able to sleep in!

Nope, 7 AM sharp, the endless lawnmower and leaf blower noises as the small army of mexican garderners descend for two hours of primping the neighbor's yard. ANyway, lunch with my folks and Elise, then I am off to Corpus -- finally, I will at least be able to get into the teeny tiny twin dolphins pool!

I arrive in Corpus, get my swim on (just have to tripple or so the number of laps I swim to compensate for the small pool), and have dinner with Aunt Lou at the Yacht Club. It was kinda strange walking into Mom and Dad's condo that was empty except for two twin beds and the joinery. I wondered if it would make sense to stay in an empty condo, but Iwas so busy, I didnt have time to hang out anyway, just enough time in the condo to swim and sleep. Wednesday was touring the ranch with Jimmy and Jon (looking at dirt), lunch with Ashley Carrol (it was so great to see her again!), off to Robstown to the insurance people and FSA, helping Aunt Lou figure out her new satelite TV, meeting with Jacob Sudhoff and then swim, swim. By the time I could get to dinner it was 10PM! Thurday was equally long. I met with Joe Newcomb at 9:30 and that went until 12:15. Very interesting. A lot of developments to consider. Then it was back to the condo to collect the last remaining items and then hit the road.... except the last remaining items ended up being a whole carload and 3 hours of packing!!

On the way back to houston I stopped to take pictures of the new wind project in Odem.
Then I have the worst meal Ive ever had in Houston at this terrible Thai place in Rice Village and now I am off to 100% taquito which gets an A in the Fearless Critic.

until next time

newo out

This is the end . . . (but we save the best for last)

So, as I said, I love New Zealand, and as I left Fiordland, I was sent off with two separate rainbows? Well apparently, New Zealand misses me, too. I got an email today 30 November from Earl, the guy I met at the internet place in Te Anau. and he said:




Dave,

NZ cried when you left, for 3 days straight...the gods were sad that you had gone, which means that you must come back. So 2011 it is...ha!

It rained sat, sun, and monday. We were not even able to get on the glaciers which only happens maybe 3 times a year, and a small town in the north had the worst flooding in like 26 years. It cleared for us finally on tuesday so we got a good day out on Abel TAsman, but the whole drive up the west coast was socked in and grey...so it goes.

Took a look at the blog, good stuff, you're fun to read.

Hope CO is treating you well. take care, mate. ha!





But before i go on, Ashley reminds me to disclose the tail of the "Angie Episode." I dont see it published in the blog yet, so i feel that I must do that before I forget anymore of it..... So rewind to Gili Meno, it was the third (?) night of five on Gili Meno, the sweet little island off Lombok (500 residents). Gili, you will recall, is the place that restored our faith in people in general, and redeemed Indonesia in our eyes. And we had met a local who defriended us named Bar. We were out late the previous night (or late for old geezers like myself), and we were both tired and agreed to make an early night. After our late dinner, I left Ange and Bar at the Bar for one drink before hittin the sack, and Ange was like, "yeah just one drink, and an early night for me." Since I dont drink no more, I said, see ya later, and went off to bed.



I awoke at some later hour, probably to the stench of burning rubbish from next door, and Ange wasnt home yet. I looked at the time, I dont now recall what time it was except that it seemed late for an "early evening."



I lay there in bed, and thought, "Ange is a big girl who can take care of herself. ... Just go back to sleep, dave, she is all right. ... She's traveled all over the world, and knows how to take care of herself. Dave, go to sleep! ... Where the hell is she? ... sleep, Sleep, SLEEP! ... What has happened to Ange?"



Afte a half hour or so of that, my mind is going into overdrive, and I can see Bar (who obviously rather fancied Angie) with all his buddies at his bar.... I cant re-think it....



Angie is sweet and loving and caring and happy and the world would be a much better place if there was more Angela Morgan Booths in it. (Think Bubbles from the Power Puff Girls, her alter-ego.) She easily makes new friends, because, hey, what is not to like? So Ange is also faithful, dedicated and determined, and she and Jay are, well you know, pratically married and all, and she told the reality of her situation to Bar as soon as it was clear that he really liked Angie (and was hanging around with us because of Angie) more so than me.



He and all his friends got really drunk, all 10 of his hard drinking bar buddies.... All of them enthralled with the blonde haired beauty, and .....



OK now I Can Not go back to sleep, and start thinking about what I gotta do.... Contact Dian; ask her to help get the US state department in action. There are no local police on Gili Meno. Who are the authorities....



How could I have just left her with all these drunk guys? ... Jay is going to kill me.... Andy (her brother, also lives in CB) is going to kill me....



By now, I have to go search for angie's beaten and broken body.



So Gili Meno is small. Among one of the densest populations on earth, there are only 500 people living on it. you can walk all the way around it in about 2 hours. There is only one direct path from our "bungalow resort" to the only bar on the island, which is where Bar works, and where they would be drinking. So I head down the path, just knowing that I would run into them before too long....



I get to the bar, and there is no Ange, there is no Bar .... One of the 9 or so guys (the staff at the bar/restaurant sitting around laughing and carrying on) there asks, "Can I help you?" (or the equivalent in english is my second language.) I say, "Where is Bar?" "Bar's closed." "No," i demand, "where is Bar the person?"



"Oh!... He went that way," pointing from where I had just come from. I'm like seriously getting worked up by this point, "Did he have a girl with him?"



"Yeah, yeah, ... they went that way," again pointing right up the very path I had walked down. I think I said something else to the only drunk guy who was paying any attention to me, something not nice like, "you better not be lying to me."



So, I start back up the path towards our bungalow resort in a near panic now, and decide that I need to go back along the beach. That is the other relatively direct route that they could take from the bar to our bungalow. The path parallels the beach, but in a few places there are some trees/bushes that obscure the view to the beach. It is still possible that I missed her and Bar on the beach somewhere in between bar and bungalow.



Now I am walking along the beach, headlamp in hand, its beam sweeping under the branches of the trees along the edge of the beach. I get back to our bungalow resort and think, "well, she has to be in the room." I approach our bungalow, but alas, there is no light on it (the windows are wide open as it never dips below 31 C, and we want whatever breeze may come our way), and as I get to the front porch, I can hear inside . . .



Full Panic!! It is quiet as a tomb! There is nobody in the bungalow! I let out a "What the fuck!"



I am instantly relieved when I hear Angie's voice reply, puzzled, "David?" She and Bar had indeed returned via the beach, and I indeed missed them in one of the very few spots where I could not see the beach from the trail. She had got back to the room, thought I was sleeping, and was creeping around as silent as a mouse, not turning on any light, or using her headlamp, so as not to wake me!



"Jeezus, Angie dont scare me like that," i blurt out. "You were really worried about me?" angie askes. "Yes..." then i spilled all of the nightmare scenarios of what might have been, simply because her one drink had (obviously) turned into many.



"Oh no, nothing like that... your so sweet to be worried," and other such. "No we were looking at the phosporessensse in the sea! Come look, it will make you feel better!" Obviously quite a bit more than one.



We go look at the green glow in the tide as the waves crash on the beach... It is lovely. Angie tells the story of how first off, they poured her a large one to begin with, and when she was done with it someone else had already poured her another one, etc, ad nauseum.



The next day, when Bar learned of the story, he was all, "You thought I could do what?! But Angie is such a big girl, and I am so small!" Which is true, they are probably about the same height, and she probably does out weigh him .... Ange is a burly Crested Butte Mountain Girl who can run up mountains and ski down them; plus, she's captain of the women's hockey team and a hockey referree, soo .... Why was I ever worried in the first place?



SO that is the "Angie Episode." Thanks Ashley for the good reminder!



Now, where was I? Right, I had tried and botched yet another picture perfect moment on the trip: I missed the killer avalanche on Mt Cook. (Like i missed the monkeys doin it on the side of the road, and the sweet little girl's smile from the truck/"school bus" on the ride accross Lombok.)



So Mt Cook was super cool. I arrived about 12:50, and after the hike, got lunch at the restaurant Liz recommended, and left the Park around 4 PM

As I drive towards Lake Tekapo back in New Zealand's miniature Colorado plateau-type landscape, it is very windy. The vanette is acting like it is going uphill the whole time (even though it and the gas needle drops at a steady pace. Every now and then a variable gust comes along and bats the little vannette around. Every so often I climb something that looks just like a dyke in Holland. But instead of it holding water back, it is a conveyance, a very wide ditch hauling a massive amount of the turquoise glacier melt water from the Lakes to irrigate the farms/tree farms in this central dry area of New Zealand.

So I stop in Lake Tekapo the town at the base of Lake Tekapo, another one of these enormous turquoise lake. Opposite are yet more of the impressive Southern Alps, and I get gas and take pictures. There is a cute, old, one room sized church made of stone on the shore of the lake, and further down the coast, there is a dog statue (looks a little bit like Skunkers), commemorating all those sheep dogs that helped the white man tame this dry area of New Zealand into sheep farms. But I had to wait a bit to get my picture as at the monument was David from Wellington, and unknown (he did the talking) who was a native of Christchurch. They had been overseas for a couple of years, and were re-aquainting themselves with their home country. Christchurch got a picture of himself sitting on the dog sculpture to immitate a similar picture his parents had of him as a child on the same statue. He did a really good impression of how the sheepherder talks to his dogs, "Hey, yo Queenie, hup, who-how" with a fair amount of short whistles thrown in. It was quite humorous, and made me think that this guy could easily be an actor the way his whole tone changed and how deeply he committed himself to the "sheep-cowboy" personality. They tell me that this part of New Zealand, Aorangi, is usually very hot and dry, yep a regular desert. Doesnt surprise me at all. After all it was hot today, first day I was really hot wearing a t-shirt in NZ. They hop back into their car with a cheerful, "enjoy the counry" and take off.

Anyway, as I left the shores of the Lake, I took what I hope will turn out as a great picture of the ubiquitous tour bus disgorging its contents of Japanese tourists, snapping away, for what could possibly sum up New Zealand more than tour buses full of Japanese tourists?


At this point, I am tired and realize that I will not be meeting Gen in Christchurch tonight, and decide to spend the night in Geraldine. Now that I have decided to stay in Gerladine, a new song haunts me as I climb out of the town of Lake Tekapo back onto the high, windy plane. Its the tune of Joleen again, my "happy" song in asia, (and Joleen naturally despised in Tonga), but substitute "Gerladine" for Joleen. And i am happily making up lyrics to the tune, "Geraldine, Gerladine, Geraldine, Geraldine. 98 kilometers to go, before I can take a shower." or "please have an internet cafe so i can charge it to my credit card. Because I dont have enough coin to feed to that kiosk."

So Lake Tekapo is set down low off the high, dry, brown (green only by use of copious amounts of the glacial turquoise water), windy plain, made the town pretty nice. Out of the wind there were trees, and the Lake with the Mountains behind, and obviously not very wet here at all. Not only was the landscape so very like the American west, but that town, too seemed very American. Not much to it except for several gasoline stations, and some strip malls along the highway. Unremarkable. Yep, very American it felt.

Once back up on the windswept plain, it was quite windy again, and the vanette continued its flat-feels-like-uphill-climb along the plain. The only hint that I am still in New Zealand vs the US are the different road signs, "give way" instead of "yeild" and that I am driving on the wrong side of the road. There is even wagon wheels on gates in the ranch fences. It is so windy that my closed door with windows all rolled up sounds like the tornado in the Wizard of Oz.

But before too long, as I approach the brown mountains, the landscape once again changes dramatically. I enter cloudy, mountainous terrain, and climb Burke's Pass along another "Scenic Reserve." I love that they call what i presume is public land not part of a Park or "Natural Area" a "Scenic Reserve." It is interesting that the landscape I envision as ideal for America consists of cities dense and tall like asian cities, and vast areas of undeveloped countryside as "Natural Reserves."

The pass is not long up and much further down on the back side than going up. Sure enough, that was a high plain, very much like the Colorado plateau, escept of course that it is much. much smaller. And I am now dropping down into green farms, green tree farms, more typical new zealand landscape, singing my Geraldine song (and having a lot of fun with it) and drive into Fairlee, which looks all the world like any ol' POS town in Texas like Menard or Post. Bowl me over again, New Zealand has a texan landscape, too? I have to stop and take pictures.

Geraldine, however, is a cute little town with a delightful campervan park that is set in a park with huge trees, etc. And I have a good night feeding coins into the kiosk and posting some of the blog, etc. I get a nice nights sleep, but again wake up ridiculously early and get all sad about this being my last morning in New Zealand. The two songs stuck in my head this morning is Don Henley's song about the last xyz, and Billy Joel's My Life. I take a nice shower, and leave the campervan park to find a nice place for a big, real breakfast.

As I reflect and look back at the trip, it is amazing to me how many things worked out so perfectly. The weather, incremental at best, was always seemingly perfect for my planned activity: Queen Charlotte Sound in the sun, the west coast in the sun (a very rare event I am told), Fiordland with both rain for waterfalls and in sun to see the mountaintops with fresh snow. Beautiful in Queenstown. My longest drive across country from Qtown to Geraldine was bright and clear. That landscape was so familiar that I booked across it (instead of the constant stopping and picture taking that characterized the rest of the driving) and got to spend a long time at Mt Cook, while still making it plenty close enough for my 12:00 noon vanette return.

And what a country! So many different kinds of landscapes, and they come fast and furious, one on top of the other. What great people. Charming and nice and friendly. I really, truly do love New Zealand. I really want to come back to New Zealand. I really want to do the tramps while I am able. And Kaharungi, I cant get it out of my head. That place really sunk its claws into me, and I saw just barely a tiny bit of it . . . . even after everything else, that part of the country, around Nelson still has a strong appeal to me.

And I laugh at myself, the strange evergreen trees that are all bushy and in such apparent order, because they were! Pruned up, evenly spaced tree farms. And me taking all these pictures of the "evil alien invaders" the pretty lupine and lillies that are merely the countries invasive foreign weeds!

I find an outstanding cup of chocolate and a great breakfast at a coffee shop with a lovely garden dining area out front. They have the coolest painting on the wall. A landscape with one of the sheep herder cowboys, done in a very painterly way. I track down the name of the local artist, and his web site. Look into the gallery that has two other of his paintings in the window, and leave town for the short 2 hour drive to Grant's Ascot motors in Christchurch.

I make it there without incident (stopped once for directions, "Oh you are quite close it is just back there a couple blocks, and then one block to the left.") and as they are checking me out of the vanette, Gen pulls up in her rental car.

Her trip to Stewart Island sounded at least partially successful, but she did not get to see the elusive Kiwi bird, one of the main reasons she went to Stewart Island (that and there are only 420 residents on that quite large island; it would probably take well over a week to walk all the way around it). While we spent the day in Christchurch we went into a small aquarium that also had a "kiwi house," something like a very big gerbil cage where a pair of kiwis are kept. So she did get to see these funny birds with no wings and very long beaks. They looked pretty muppet-ish, a funny squat round body on these two stubby fat legs, with a lumpy head attached to an improbably long and thin beak. No wonder they were thought to be a hoax when whites first discovered skeletons of them. But the little bugger moved very fast when he ran on those little squat legs, again the memory reminds me of the road runner cartoon.

Gen took me to the airport and I started my 27 hour return home. Christchurch to Aukland, Aukland to LA, LA to Houston. So I get to LA by 1:30Pm the same day I left Aukland, the same day I left Geraldine and saw the Kiwi ... gaining several hours for crossing the dateline. My original flight on Continental was for the next day at 11AM. After clearing customs, I went over to Continental, and tried (unsuccessfully) to fly stand-by that same day to Houston. Now that Ivan has moved to Vancouver, I dont have any friends in LA anymore, why should i spend a whole day there? The supervisor tells me the problem is that Frontier issued the ticket so Continental cant do anything with it. Plus its an eticket. So i go to frontier and they are about to send me to Houston routed thru Denver, when the current departing flight to Denver is cancelled because somebody ran into the airplane with some big piece of equipment. No room for Dave. I call over to Southwest and they want me to pay $405 for a walk-up one way ticket to Houston. Eventually the super nice Frontier ticket counter lady prints me out a paper ticket and says, "maybe Continental can do something with this ticket, because now this is like money, dont loose it!"

I take it back to Continental, and the guy I already spent 1 + 1/2 hours arguing with sees me coming, rolls his eyes, and disappears into the back room. I patiently stand in a line of one, me, and wait for a new women to finish her 42 keystrokes with long pauses in between at her computer then calls me over. I lay out the entire sob story to her (again, as this is the fourth time today). Thai cancelled my flight. They sent me back home a day early from my vacation. I am just rying to get home after 6 weeks abroad. Cant you please help me?

She checks my facts (confirmed that Thai indeed cancelled my flight tomorrow), prints me out a stand-by ticket, checks in my bags (no charges for 2 bags let alone 1), and after only 2 1/2 hours of effort, I am thru security and something like #7 on the stand-by list for a full flight to Houston that leaves at 5:30PM. I am the last person on the airplane, as they bump the guys whose seat I fill into first class. Sweet seat too, as it is the first row in economy and the wall provides something like an extra foot of space.

So now here I am in Houston, and it has been a long, happy thanksgiving week with my family -- Mom, Dad, and sister Elise all live here, with niece Camille and nephew Alex. Before t-day, Mom, Dad and I go down to corpus, rent a u-haul truck and pack up the big art pieces, and some of the more fragile/valuable items from their condo to bring back to Houston. They are officially moving from Corpus and are going to live full time in Houston. As I drive the ridiculously over-sized truck out of Corpus on wednesday, I am treated to a stunning sunset over the Aransas Wildlife Preserve. In the faling twilight the sunlight reflects on the occasionaly squiggle of the plowed rows of the rich dark earth of the coastal plain. And there are a number of raptors who come and settle atop the powerline posts along the side of the road, scanning the highway for fresh roadkill an easy supper, compliments of the 70 MPH speedlimit and us motorists. Several saunter up in a cozy-up-to-the-bar type of way, as if saying to each other, "hey george, how's the missus today?" So there is beauty everywhere on this planet, even along the flat texas coast. I wish I had my camera as I pass a big cell phone tower absolutely covered with black birds, and again later as I pass one of the few red leafed trees along the road. (Fall in south texas doesnt really have colors like elsewhere in the world. Most of the trees still have some green on them, and leafs kinda go from green to off, skipping the whole color part.)

Corpus was a big rush. I saw Aunt Lou. I talked on the phone with Ashley, and I got to visit for about 2 hours on Tuesday night with Reagan, his parents, and Alissa Brown (McCoy)-- my childhood friends from down the street. I hadnt seen Alissa since high school age, and it was a kick to meet her, her nice husband and three adorable kids. It was a night of rememberances. I also did OFP work that would normally take several days, late at night after I gave up packing things, or in quick jaunts away during the day to run necessary day-time errands. So it was a non-stop in Corpus, very tiring.

Today, 1 December, we went and looked at my parents new condo at 2727 Kirby, a 30 story residential condo building that is sah-wank. It looks to be about 3 months from completion (top two floors still need to be enclosed -- parents unit on 13 at the sheetrock stage.) Tomorrow, I return to Colorado after 8 weeks of being away. So that is the trip...alltogethernow....

Signing off for good (for now, at least)

Newo (knee-whoa) out!

Queenstown to Mt Cook

As I leave Queenstown, I hope to get a picture of the cute little steamboat while sailing the lake. But alas, now that I have a camera battery charged, the steamship is moored in the harbour.



So I am getting used to driving the vanette. It is fun to drive on the left side of the road, it was a little 4 cylinder powerhouse, thanks to Grant and the boys at Ascot motors. These guys we rented the vanette from made their business out of buying old vans, and converting them into sleeper vans, and renting them to folks like us. Their hobby, however was to drive cars in races around new zealand. As a result, the vanette performed like a powerhouse! As I listened to the digital voice reorder notes from the last days of the trip, I can hear the vanette performing like a charm in the background.



It does get uncomfortable, mainly with the small amount of space between body and wheel, and the low windshield view was hard, since I had to slump for visibility. I didn't mind the straight back, and it had tons of headroom, easily more than the headroom in my new car which i bought with headroom as the #1 priority. The one thing that I never got used to, is that I constantly went to the wrong side of the vanette to get in to drive it! Once in though, it was easy to remember the left side as you drive while seated on the inside of the lane in both right and left handed driving.



So I leave Queenstown and travel out thru Gibsstons Valley, and there are wineries everywhere. Like Dave said at lunch in Queenstown: the soil here and the climate here on the east side of the Southern Alps are similar to Napa Valley in CA, hence they can and do grow nice wines in this area. The landscape is beginning to look more and more like the American west. The hillsides are now rocky, there is a big beautiful turquoise river that carves out the Kararu Gorge thru the rock. As I enter the Cromwell area, green New Zealand is giving way to brown New Zealand. This whole area all the way to Lake Pukaki is so similar to the American West, that at times I forget which country I am traveling in. Driving on the wrong sides of the car and road are the only reminders, that and the occasional different road signs.


This landscape is brown, the only green is in irrigated farms and ranches, like anywhere in the dry american southwest, with a road as straight as any in texas, fading back to brown mountains in the distance (in all directions). That is until I get closer to the Southern Alps, and then the landscape turns truly Colorado in character, with the irrigated flat planes up to the tall (taller than the front range even) snow capped Southern Alps. The differences are that the other three directions are ringed with the lower brown mountains of the interior, and the native flora consists of different species. Yes this is New Zealand's version of the colorado plateau -- desert high country. So New Zealand surprises again, as I never actually thought I'd see a NZ landscape that is so similar to the landscape I know back home.



The edge of the road is lined with different coloured lupines. Not just blue, but pink, purple, red, yellow and orange. I stop and get some pictures of these lupine. Of course, Lupine is not a native species and it strikes me that here, they are the weeds of the country, like the lily i took a picture of on the Queen Charlotte hike: Ann stating alarmed, "that is a weed!" Otherwise, i am hauling ass in the vanette at 110 - 120 KPH, stopping infrequently to take pictures, and arrive in Mt Cook National Park by 1PM.



This grassland landscape gives way to evergreen forests (just like back home) and a wide glacial valley with bright turquoise colored Lake Pukaki. This is the valley leading up to Mt Cook and the big mountains, and it is the location of Edoras, the Kingdom of Rohan in the Lord of the Rings movie. The turquoise color of the water, I learn comes from minerals from the rock the glacier grinds out of this valley, called "rock flour," litterally fine ground rocks, suspended in the water. The road climbs slowly and steadily to the Mt Cook National Park central village. I stop every so often to take pictures of the jaw dropping view of the Southern Alps on a near crystal clear spring day.


Now it is time for the 20 minute boardwalk to the mountain view. However, this turns into a 1 hour hike. The trail is a boardwalk for a while, but it is also a trail, very similar to a good single track trail in colorado, complete with loose rocks and all. I wish that I had changed into my hiking boots instead of wearing the flip flops (at Liz's suggestion) as i turn my ankle on a loose rock once. But it is not bad, and I make it up without any real incident.

Along the way, there are several sounds like thunder, but it is a blue bird cloudless day. This isn't thunder, it is the sound of avalanches coming down the steep mountains covered in snow and ice -- glaciers in fact. I ask people coming down if they saw the evidence of any of these dramatic noises. Most say no, one group of three people who had been staying at a hut further up the valley overnight said, "yeah, that one (the louder one) was pretty low down. Go to the top and wait, there will be more it happens all the time. It is just that ususally you hear it, turn around and see a puff of white cloud where it had occurred."

I did stay at the top for a little while, but I didn't hear or see any snow slides. As I return back to the base village, I do hear a low rumble like an airplane, but as usual, there are no airplanes flying overhead. Turning back, i see a sizeable avalanche coming down the southern face of Mt Cook! I grab the camera and take a picture, and then make a movie, but the movie is rather jerky, and I think all you really see in the still picture is what appears to be a little white cloud hugging the side of the mountain. I will post it (eventually) to Picassa, when I can get to it, hopefully sometime before Thanksgiving.

I did post a ton of pictures today 22 November from Houston, and they are in Wanaka Release, Wanaka to Queenstown, Driving to Te Anau, Milford Sound Cruise, Lake Marian, and Driving out of Fiordland. The last bit of pictures will be out soon involving the drive from Queenstown to Mt Cook to Geraldine, and the last day in Christchurch.

I will finish Mt Cook and the rest of Thursday's drive to Geraldine next time. Until then,

Newo Out

Queenstown

SO! First off, I missed a part in Te Anau. I was sitting at the computer doing the blog, and a guy sits at the next computer, puts on the headsets and calls somebody over the internet (VOIP). I can tell he is an american by his accent. He does not have anything to write with, looks over and sees that i have a pen, and asks, "can I borrow your pen, mate." I said, "sure but you dont have to call me mate. I am an American, too." He laughs and said, "picked up some of the local phrases."

After his call, and while we were both working there on our respective computers, we exchange pleasantries. His name is Earl from SF who had been in Aussie and Indonesia for the last 3 or so months (explains the "mate"), diving and surfing. I asked how he could take so much time off work to have a long vacation. He said he quit his job, (Tero takes 11 months off and is going back to his job in Finland! Earl had to quit his job.) But he got a new job in Indonesia being the surf guide on a sailboat that took surfers from killer spot to killer spot by the sea. (Dont that sound an awful lot like Angie's dream job!) "dude, (he was from CA after all) how did you score that gig?" I ask. He was on the boat in Indo and the owner said he needed a good surfer to be the guide for his quests, and offered him the job! Thus extending his "take a couple of years off" by at least one more.

He was in NZ doing the same kind of tour I was, and coming to the same conclusions: Not enough time to do all the things we want to do, especially taking the long tramps (multi-day camping walks) thru the amazing parks. We both have the same solution, come back at a later date and spend enough time to do it right. I sent him my email and blog address, and since he was doing the circumnavigation of the South Island in the opposite direction that i was, I told him what he had to hit, and what he could miss on his way up the west coast, and through the north half. Who knows, maybe Earl will be part of my return-to-tramp thru NZ trip? He seemed like a cool guy, and a dependable fellow.

SO ANYWAY, On Wednesday 19 November, I get up early (too early, but once up i was up) had the last of the oatmeal, and was off to see Peggy Preston in Queenstown. I left the campsite with plenty of time to meet Peggy at her Yoga studio at 11:30 Am per the plan. As I drove away from Te Anau, I was treated to a morning rainbow! At home we only see rainbows in the afternoons, so this was fun! How special, a rainbow greeted me to Fiordland and a rainbow bid me farewell to Firodland. It also underscored how lucky I have been with the weather (as I have mentioned previously).

Retracing my path from Qtown to Te Anau, I pass thru the same landscape that I did coming here on Sunday. The "sage brushy" area is called Red Tussock Conservation area, so obviously the sage brushy things are "red tussocks" As I pass thru the area, Dan would be pleased as the radio picked up a station playing opera! That was fun while it lasted.

There was vertical rain (in blinding sunshine) with strong winds once again as I pass thru this area east of Washburn, and with the morning sun in my face, and as i leave the rain, in my rearview a beautiful rainbow lies low over the horizon (second one of the day -- gosh I love NZ). This one was big and bright and I stopped and took many pictures.

So driving thru New Zealand I have learned to keep both hands on the wheel at all times, because it is usually both very windy and very windy. (The roads have curves, and the wind howls like a banshee.) It is crazy, and unlike driving thru say, west texas where the wind is constant and you just put the wheel over a little all the time as if you were turning slightly, here the wind is so inclement that it buffets the vanette from side to side like Nick Hayes trying to get to Kate Seely's after a night of Ted's bartending!

So i get to Qtown after stopping often and taking pictures of the scenery (i am such a tourtist), and I see why the Nick's like Wanaka more than Queenstown. Wanaka (pop 3500) is laid back, and mellow. The town is smaller and less fancy/touristy than Queenstown (pop 17,000). Queenstown is more built up, busier, has traffic, parking is expensive, the shops are fancy and the restaurants are many and good. Queenstown is nice. It is very, very nice, and obviously very high dollar. Wanaka is the Crested Butte of NZ, and Queenstown is its Aspen (complete with international airport).

I was expecting it to be like Vail from the Nicks' descriptions, but it wasn't all loggy or super big ugly high-rise condos -- big, Big, BIG; it was all small and cute and NZ modern and glass. It was cuter, no buildings were very tall, the design conformed more to the hillside it was built on, as opposed to just being plunked down like a mid-rise apartment incongruous to the surrounding landscape (think Moutaineer Square in Mt CB). It was more like Europe than the US -- smaller buildings, smaller condos. Plus the foo foo all organic cafe we had juice (fresh, but out of wheatgrass), and lunch was awesome! And i had one of the best hamburgers ever in Qtown at the Fergburger. (I was craving beef, fed up with fish, pasta, lamb, fruit, nuts and oatmeal.)

So I met Peggy and was so thankful that her Yoga studio had showers (she does that hot room yoga, so naturally you are supposed to sweat, and then shower afterwards). I was able to get myself somewhat civilized before lunch with a nice, long anticipated shower. (I had been camping and hiking, etc for 3 days without shower as the blog will attest, and I stank!)

After lunch, I got a brief downtown tour as I followed Peggy around on some of her day to day errands, and then we went to her house about 14 (?) KM outside Qtown proper towards Glenarchy. What a beautiful house and setting. Up high, she had great views from the house, and the neighbor on one side was a sheep farm, the neighbor below was out of sight, and the house backed to the bush. It is typical New Zealand modern house, and it is really nice. I was so grateful to be able to stay there in a nice place before the drive cross country to Christchurch to catch the plane home.

Peggy and I chatted, hung some laundry, and did some yoga stretching while we caught up over the afternoon. She showed me some good nice new stretches for the back, neck and hamstrings as we discovered that we both attended Cheley Colorado Camps at the same time (howbout that Reagan and Grey)! -- The foot one, put your feet together and roll thru your toes -- called broken toe, also called thai goddess pose; a belt with the hamstring does the stretch more and no impact on the back; --

It is interesting that we lived in CB for such a long time together. We knew each other, but were not super close. She knows people who have lived in CB at least as long as I have, but that I do not even know, even people that live like 8 houses down from my house. It seems when I am in CB that i know EVERYONE (as Grey seems to think) since I cant run a 5 minute errand without spending 40 minutes talking to three or four dozen people along the way. But we did know a fair number of the same folks. She asked about Bernhotz (now mayor of CB and testified in front of Congress for mining reform), William Buck (now mayor of Mt CB), the Boslers, Cheese Mike (sorry, Mike, you will just never loose that knickname), the Villanuevas, Steph, and a bunch of other people I cant remember. (I am writing this in Houston trying to get it all in before I loose it all, so hey forgive an old man his failing memory, eh?) Peggy says "Hi" to all her friends in CB and will be out next August to visit everyone. She was also properly shocked with changes around town and in Mt CB (eg no more Swiss) and awed with all the people having babies!

After I unpacked my stuff from the car (to organize and pack for the airplane), Peggy and I went back to town. She had to teach yoga classes for the rest of the day, and I was off to find a pool to swim in. I follow the swimming pool signs and it takes me to Wakatipu High School which Jody told me has a great pool and is open for public use. When I got there tho, there were a zillion kids (under 12?) preparing for what is obviously a swimming competition. Typical NZers right? Here we are in ski country and they have all this rugby, soccer, cricket, tennis, mountain climbing, kayaking, surfing, biking, hikinig, bungy jumping, heli-skiing, heli-fly fishing (yep that's right Fisher people, you take a hekicopter to fly fish streams filled with enormous fish that no one else can get to!) AND here are two hundred 10 - 12 year olds about to have a swimming competition in a town of 17,000! (Did I mention that every little town in this country with a population over 500 has a skatepark?) Yep, sport fanatics the New Zealanders are! And you can tell, because everyone under 40 is fit and thin and buff -- and it sure aint their diet of beer, eggs, sausage, hash browns, fish and chips, etc that keeps them that way!!

Anyway, as I asked some of the moms if I loooked lost (they said yes), they gave me directions to the big public facility out in Frankton on (get this Joe) Joe O'Connell Drive! Out I go to a super nice swimming facility in this enormous park with fields for cricket, soccer, rugby and golf -- hmm, British influence anyone? And spend too long swimming in the huge nice pool, and soaking in the very large hot tub -- very irregularly shaped so that there were like 4 or so fairly private areas, and big enough that I could actually swim several strokes under water in it, the hot tub this is.

After the swim, I get some blogging done at Peggy's studio while I wait for her to finish her last class, but I am frustrated with picasa, as it wont work on her office computer! Everything is going to have to wait until I get back to houston to get caught up (and here i am in houston at Elise's computer writing this entry into the wee hours right now.) Note to self: get those 14 commandments of Buddha (as if Buddha would issue "comandments") from Peggy's wall hanging at the studio.

We drive back to her house and the twilight on the Lake (Qtown is also on one of these giagantic mountain lakes -- Lake Wakatipu) is simply gorgeous. I am psyched that the forcast is for sunny all over NZ for my drive to Christchurch. All in all it was a good day relaxing in the swankiness of Qtown and repacking for the airplane which I catch Friday night -- only two more days in NZ =(!!

But Queenstown doesnt end there.... That night is when the best things happened in Qtown: we chatted and talked the night away. Peggy had these good, all organic cookies that she shared with me, Jody was there, and bits of Highlander and Pulp Fiction were on the tube. Later in the night, her roomate (sorry flat mate -- Peggy has picked up some of the local lingo just as Earl had. "Its just easier, you know," they both said. "And," Peggy mentions, "they don't make fun of you. Bathroom is toilet or loo (sp?). 'What you going to take a bath in the toilet, are you?' or my roomate "what you share the same room as her do you?' etc.) Liz returns home. In typical NZ class and style, Liz welcomes me into her house (Peggy said she didnt give her any notice that a big hippie freak was going to spend the night in her house). Liz even handles with typical courtesy and non-chalance the news as Peggy relates that I hung up her knickers (underwear) on the line. "Jeez, Peggy," i say, "you didnt have to tell her that!" How embarasssing; (and in a country that is rather British proper -- the swim place had changing rooms inside the locker rooms; a mother breast feeding in public very properly kept herself fully concealed with a blanket; even Nick hayes recounted how uncomfortable he was having to be naked at Orvis hot springs, "you yanks are used to that kind of public nudity, but we NZers are not that way." I tried to explain that in parts of the US public nudity is still quite shocking, but whatever.)

Peggy gives me a letter to take to Andy Bamberg back home (SOMEONE REMIND ME WHEN I GET BACK TO CO, OK?), and calls it a night. Liz tells me that I absolutely have to stop and detour up to Mt Cook National Park to see it, since I am driving right past it. She says there is a little 20 minute boardwalk that takes you really close to the mountain, and that it is easy and i can do it in my sandles, and recomends a restaurant there to eat, and she calls it a night. I re-pack myself for the final night in NZ and the airplane, and load the van.

The clouds had broken and the sky was clear. It was one of only three clear nights in NZ. One at Franz Josef, where I took the full moon picture, one in Wanaka when I was too tired to pull out the southern night sky constellations map (plus there was too much light pollution), and this one. SO, i unpack the constellation map and spend from about 1 to 1:30 AM finding stars. How frackin cool is this? (and it was CB cold, too)

For the first time in my life, I see both the large and small magellanic clouds, they were high in the sky and clear (kew! add binoculars to the list of must take back to NZ trip items) Then starting with the easy constellations: orion, southern cross, pleides (7 sisters), to get an orientation, and identified hydrus, phoenix, eridanus, lepis, canis major and minor, taurus, pholens, but i couldn't pick out pupis, or pixus or vela. Leo should have been in the east, but it had already set, or the moon was to bright (it was about to rise), and the pleides had reached the setting horizon by the time i was done.

Plus, as I was stumbling around her back yard looking at stars I heard this strange and scary noise coming from the back bush. Now I know that NZ doesnt have any large predators, since it didnt have any native mamals either (there are not even any snakes in NZ). But this noise sounds like a growling noise or snoring, or some kind of nostril blowing noise (almost like a elk bugle in character but not tone) followed by a series of humphs or hocks, that almost sounded like a chicken clucking in a very deep voice. Had to be some kind of bird, but what is was i have no idea. Later in Christchurch I saw a short doc film about the Kiwi, and that noise from the bush outside Qtown did sound a little bit like some of the mating calls of the Kiwi. Did i actually hear the sound of a Kiwi in Queenstown? One of Gen's main reasons to go to Stewart Island was to try and see an actual wild kiwi, they are that rare and unusual of a native bird, and here I hear one in Peggy Preston's back yard? Lance (the gold miner from Hope Saddle) said that they were all over the place and not as rare as everyone says they are; "I guarantee there are at least 50 of them in this bit of bush right here. Just that no one ever sees them because they are out at night and no one is lookin."

Anyway, tomorrow comes early as Peggy has to teach at 7 AM and she is waking me before then to say goodbye and so that i can start my long drive day, and see Mt Cook and the main Southern Alps!

Until next time,

Newo Out.

Fiordland -- Te Anau

((Aside, once again, I am left with no options on a computer that will not let me upload the pictures to Picasa; and no, Dan, there is no internet cafe in this little town. This means that all the rest of the picasa pictures will have to wait until i get to a real computer in Houston.))

Anyway, Monday Night 17 November, I stayed in Fiordland National Park at Cascade Creek Campground, this is north of Te Anau, and I was cold (after all the forecast was for a high of 7 C and snow). For the first time I ran the little gas heater that came with the vanette, and it worked beautifully (thank god or perhaps Grant, for that). When I woke up sure enough there is snow on the peaks, and the snow line was a few hundred feet above my camp site. It is a beautiful blue sky morning, and I took lots of pictures. I had a lazy morning since my glow worm cruise is not until the afternoon, and drove out of the Park and into Te Anau to get the camera cards cleared and put the pictures on a disk. In Te Anau, I wrote the past few entries in the blog and uploaded pictures....that was all mentioned in a previous blog entry.

As I left the park, I got many good pictures of lower fiordland without cloudy tops. This part of the park is not as dramatic as the areas further in (by the coast, eg Milford Sound), but there are still really good pictures that illustrate the verticality of the landscape. (You will eventually be able to see them on Picasa.). One place is called Mirror lakes, which are basically a few clear areas in a wetland complex right by the side of the road. I got at least one decent "mirror" picture, but there were these ducks (but they arent "ducks" they are called something else) and they were swiming in these "lakes" and diving down to eat whatever it is that they eat, and otherwise rippling the mirror effect, so.... I also saw a BIG trout, and took a picture of it, but with nothing to show scale, it just looks like a fish. Also, the tour buses arrived and disgourged their contents of endless Japanese tourists, busily snapping away pictures, so I did not stay too long.

After lunch, I went on the Te Anau Glow Worm Caves tour. If anyone comes to New Zealand, definitely DO NOT take this tour! This has to be the world's lamest tour! It is sold as a cruise on this lake to the protected island on the other side, then a small boat ride through the glow worm cave complex. It started out OK, I learned that the Lake is 60 KM long, and is the second largest lake in New Zealand and the largest on the South Island. It was created by massive glaciers that carved it out (like Milford Sound) and melting snow and rain fills the lake. The tour on the lake was pretty lame, because they drove the big boat so fast to where the glow worm cave is, that it was too cold to stay up on top and too rough for taking decent pictures of Fiordland up close on this side of the lake, which is what I wanted to do.

When we arrived at the glow worm cave area, immeditely the lot of us (there were about 60 or 70 people on this tour, mostly elderly Aussies) were swarmed by sandflies. (I got a nice bite on my neck -- still hurts, days later.) Then we were broken down into groups of 16 for the little boat, and told about the tour. We were only going to be in the very first chamber, where the glow worms are, no tour of the entire complex with its underground river and waterfalls, etc. No photos were allowed, and we were not allowed to talk for big portions of it. The entrance to the cave is about 1 meter in height, which meant that we had to stoop to get in -- great on the back, let me tell you. But that was nothing compared to the squat little bench in the small boat that we had to sit on. That truly was murder on the back. Then we got taken into the dark cave, the boat banged along the side, and we could see the little green lights of the glow worms. It reminded me of a ride at Disneyland. After all anyone can cram you onto a little boat and have tiny little green points of light on a ceiling in total darkness flick on and off. Who to say it is a little worm or electric lights on the dark ceiling?

It was interesting to know that the cave is only 12,000 years old (young for caves) and that it is layered limestone and sandstone. The glowworms spooge gobs of sticky stuff that look like droplets of water from the ceiling, and then they turn on their green glow to attract insects. As the insects are attracted to the light in the darkness, they bungle into the spit-created lines of sticky glue. Once prey is caught, the glowworms turn off their glow, and snack on their prey. The brighter the glow, the hungier they are. They eat whatever bug they catch be it moth, sandfly or whatever. They will often knock their neighbor glowworms off, or even eat their neighbor glow worms if they feel like they are being crowded. I also learned that the little buggers turn into a flying insect that looks like a mosguito, but has no poker (nor any digestive system). Their only function in this stage of their short 10 - 12 month long life is to reproduce like mad during the 48 or so hours that they are in their flying bug stage. They then die of exhaustion and starvation. But you could learn all that on the Discovery Channell, and save yourself the $60 NZ and a whole afternoon of your precious NZ vacation! (Take the Doubtful Sound cruise instead.) About the only interesting thing is that you could imagine that these flickering green lights may be the constellations you may see on an alien planet....but my imagination is good enough that I did not need to waste the day on this cruise! It was definitely the biggest disappointment of my trip to New Zealand

The best part of the whole day was walking along the lake shore line back in Te Anau. It was a glorious sunny day, and the Lake was blue and all the mountains in Fiordland were in full view (these are the same mountains that appeared from the cloud bank as I drove in on Sunday). I really liked Te Anau. It was peaceful and serene. The shoreline is all one big long park with a nice walk along it and beautiful mature trees and etc. The town is small, only about 1200 or so residents, but it obviously fills up in summertime for tourists -- most of the buildings along the shoreline (across the street from the water-side park) were hotels or backpackers (hostels).

It was one of those places that I thought that I could retire too. Of course this could be that I was there on that one awesome day, and the rest of the time it is cold and rainy, sort of like when people visit Corpus on those nice days in February when the wind isnt blowing and the bay is all still and blue, then they move there and by August they are like, "why the frack did I move here!!" Or it could be like my grandfather who was raised in Kansas ("like hell on earth: the hottest place in the summer and the coldest place in winter."), and when he reached the age of reason, he moved south. He thought that Corpus was the greatest climate ever except for those rare ice storms when he would say, "I did not move far enough south." Of course in Te Anau the scenario would mean that it would get too hot for someone? because it wasnt cold enough? (Now the lady on the tour said that it rained twice as much on the Fiordland Park side of the Lake than in town ... that might not mean a lot when it rains 4 - 8 meters a year in Fiordland! Of course, another of the tour chicks said, "oh, looks like we arent going to hit it," in a regretful way. "hit what?" i ask, and she replies "it was supposed to get to 20 C today.") So if someone wanted to live in the coldest place ever, they should just live in Gunnison (or Antartica!) and be done with it!

They also told us about how they are trying to rescue some of the indigenous birds, by taking the eggs and raising them to adolescence in captivity and then placing them on small islands in NZ that are free of the stouts and possums that eat the eggs, hoping to regenerate the species on these small islands naturally after that point.

Another great thing about Te Anau (and Wanaka), is that the far side of the Lake is all protected, (like in Wanaka, but not in Queenstown), which is super nice, because that means you are never looking across the water at somebody else's house/compound...just the natural beauty of Fiordland (in Te Anau) or Mt Aspiring Nat Park (in Wanaka).

So again, after uploading a zillion pictures and bloging, I rush out to the first DOC campsite towards the park. (It is more fun to stay in these rustic campgrounds than in the developed campervan parks -- much more like camping out, except that there is an outhouse and picnic tables, etc.) It is called Murry Creek, and is on the shore of the Lake Te Anau. Now seeing as it was so pleasant in Town on the Lake, I was surprised to find it blowing a hurricane at this campsite. The windchill was enough to make me sit inside the van for the first time and cook my little meal of instant miso soup, salad and canned Thai coconut curry with the end of the pasta.

The best thing about it blowing a hurricane outside is it kept the damn sandflies away. you know that may be the number one most undesireable feature about New Zealand as opposed to the winding, bumpy roads. I told you about the sandflies in the Monroe Beach walk post (i think), and on the still blue bird morning at Cascade Creek (this morning), I decided to stay in the van and make my breakfast, as there were about 20 of the little bastards clinging to the outside of the windows. That was a good move, for as soon as i opened one of the doors and hopped out, they all swarmed into the vanette. Before I drove away, I spent a few minutes hunting them down and killing them all. The return of Dave the mighty sandfly hunter! They are realtively easy to kill, especially when you can trap them against a window. And though it may be bad dharma to kill other living beings, I kill sandlfies and mosquitoes without any remorse, Dharma be damned!

But I do love New Zealand, and I loved Te Anau. I definitely want to visit Fiordland again, do a cruise (at least the long doubtful sound cruise) and some of the multi-day tramps in the Park here. The only thing that I dont like about it are the damn Sand FLies!!

So tomorrow (wednesday 19 November) I am off back to Queenstown to see the actual town and hang out with Peggy for a day -- getting me closer to Christchurch which I fly out of on Friday (21 November) night!! Ah the end of my New Zealand trip is in site -- boo hoo! =( !!

Until next time, Newo Out.

Lake Marian Hike

So this is still Monday 17 November...

On the drive out of Fiordland and Milford Sound, I took many pictures (sorry for the delay in uploading, but this computer wont do it...but soon ... might be later this week, or even once i get home, but the photos will come), and I stopped to take a hike up to Lake Marian. Now the expected time to do this hike is 3 - 4 hours, and I stopped at the carpark at 4:30PM. I was just going to go to the "viewing platform" which is part of the trail that is a boardwalk on the side of a stream...or river. The water is falling quickly down the steep valley it has carved, and there is a ton of water. You will be able to see plants growing on giant boulders in the stream, there is that much rainfall in Fiordland. (I think i already mentioned it, but 8 meters of rain a year falls on these mountains.) The edge of the trail is sheer in some places, covered with ferns and mosses, and dripping with water like a decorative fountain (except of course this is all natural).

I, however, was feeling like a good walk, and I saw a sign that said 1 hr 30 minutes, and assuming that was the there and back time, I went for it. So up the first really, really steep 1/2 KM or so, I saw some of the guys from my boat cruise on their way down. I asked them, "how much further?" They replied, "you are much closer to the beginning than the end," so i decided that I better haul ass, since I had to still find me a campsite, make dinner, etc., all hopefully before nightfall/twilight which lingers until 9:30PM or so in the southern hemisphere springtime.

So haul ass I did. Gone is the nice buffed out, wide trail that you have seen in pictures of Queen Charlotte Tramp, etc, replaced by a single track trail very similar to the one down from Mt. Arthur to Flora Hut. Except this one is steeper, and not as slick. It was interesting, the rocks, all covered with moss and such were not slick at all, it is the roots and the mud that is sooo slick. The tree roots are the worst. In some places, it is so steep that one step to the next is a grunt and groan and stretch to get to. I pass about 6 other people from my cruise on the way up, who are on the way down. (I had stayed in Milford for lunch, to book a glow worm cruise for tomorrow in Te Anau, and to give my camera's failing battery another good charge.)

I got to the top in less than an hour, hauling ass like I did. I feel good, my stomach muscles are pumping and my back feels ok, not 100%, but nothing like the Mt Arthur hike. Way to go Dave!

I stay at the top for about 15 minutes, snapped a few pictures, and head down. I knew that going down was going to take me longer than going up, that is just the way it is with my back. To give you an idea of how steep it was, my ears kept popping (both on the way up and on the way down, like i was on an airplane), and there were six separate times that i went backwards on all fours going down. I also caught a good bird song on the digital recorder.... It all came from one tiny little bird, that I think is the bell bird. I also caught a nice picture of the giant, indegenous Pigeon. I surprised myself with how well I felt coming down -- I kept on thinking, tall, steady, strong, as i came down, and the theme song of Superman kept playing in my mind! (Take that Wonder Wad!!) I was down at the car park before 7PM, making my round trip 2 1/2 hours!! All in all the hike to Lake Marian was an enormous success, I was very proud of myself for doing it all so well and quickly. I was pumped and feeling good as I head towards my camp site.

The first camp site, Lake Gunn, was pretty crowded so I went to the next one at the other end of the Lake and camped there. Made dinner, ate, cleaned up, and was in bed and OUT as the late dusk settled in!

Until next time,

Newo Out.