Jenny's Trek Down Under

They say a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step...well, I'd have to disagree I say it starts with a little car I like to call Betty. Name subject to change to four letter expletives should Betty stall, get lost or cause me to drive on the wrong side of the road. And no the name Betty has nothing to do with famous cartoon character Betty Boop...but EVERYTHING to do with my favorite golden girl and yours Betty White...or good ol' Rose. Because just like Rose I hope to have many many long rambling stories to recount about my travels...much like she does about St. Olaf. Now this prized vehicle I will be driving doesn't have a cd player...and since radio is not always a guarentee driving through mountains...I was forced to scour the city looking for tapes...and let me say the selection was bleak...but admist the abba, hanson and numerous eurotrash cassettes I was able to score some aerosmith, pearl jam, michael jackson (thriller), springstein, cat stevens, phil colins and of course billy joel's greatest hits. Anyways I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to profess my dying love and devotion to New Zealand trash magazines...and so with that here is my top ten list of why New Zealand Celeb magazines rule...in no particular order:
1. They have obscene graphic photos of celebrities in compromising positions
2. New Zealanders have no ACTUAL celebrities themselves so it's all american/uk pop culture...but who are we kidding the uk has no pop culture either...so really it's just britney spears
3. The only "claim to fame" that New Zealand can even attempt to label a 'celeb' would be Keisha the girl from that whalerider movie and Xena the warrior princess...and yes folks I am in the same country that these god given talented women reside in...jealous? I would be.
4. They have an ask the psychic section....with such earth shattering revelations like...one woman asked is my dog sitting near me...the psychic said yes....and I'm not kidding that was the actual question
5. They have wordfinds, soduko, crosswords and spot the difference between two pictures
6. They print BLATANT lies that even I have to question
7. They can't spell...and neither can I
8. they give away free packets of stale cookies
9. They have tearjerker inspirational articles about people with big club like feet that find love with men who have foot fetishes...or how about the one about the girl whose sister became a man and they fell in love...I was just as excited as you to learn Jerry Springer came in not just televised format...but magazines as well!
10. and finally well...there is no tenth so deal with it.
...Right now I'm Nelson the top of the south island and in the next week I hope to hit all three national parks in the vicinity (abel tasman, nelson and karahangi (or something like that). Anyways will report more later...hope all is well with everyone and I love and miss you all!
P.S. The flight from the North Island to the South island...truely breathtaking...with water looking like frozen swirls of ice jutting out into windswept streams, green plotted land sprinkled with the occasional house or two...flying through clouds that resembled freshly popped popcorn but quickly morphed into a patch of flattened cauliflower with glimpses of the water breaking through here and there with the sun setting on the clouds and the faint glimmer of the moon in the background...

So, I had a travel breakdown...now many of you might be asking yourselves what exactly is that...well, it's kind of like your car breaking down minus the whole car thing. Almost like a faulty compass or like missing a bus to your next travel destination have you...well, basically it's a term I just made up so bare with me. Well, my breakdown involved a cold, heartless, touristy, lacking any real personality city called Auckland and a girl better known to most of you as Jenny aka me. Something about this city doesn't sit right with me from my initial glimpse of Auckland that first day back in February when I aimlessly wandered the streets completely jet lagged, to that evening spent in Alfred Park at the Chinese lantern festival to this past week where I spent my nights holed up in the kiwi international hostel and my days stuck in the self help section at borders--and yes I did infact travel 1/2 way across the world just to find out if it was in fact true that the self help section is better on the other side of the rainbow--or world have you.
Those who know me would vouch for me when I say I have an unhealthy obsession with this section in a bookstore in fact I would go as far as to say when I was younger I had probably read every chicken soup for the teenage soul known to man including the short lived chicken soup for the divorced, golf loving, bible toting creepy dad series...and yes even these books imparted valuable, inspirational messages to learn from like always make sure your bible cover matches your shoes and belt when taking out some jesus loving honey on a date. so as you see this section had yet to fail me so as I spent this week much in transition I looked to border's self help section for some sort of answer or direction much in the same way people look to mcdonalds for nutritious meals...in other words I knew I probably wasn't going to find what I was looking for but learning about how to be the best possible me, win friends and meet the man of my dreams all in one sitting was too hard to pass up. Anyways all jokes aside it has definitely been a trying week as I try to make sense of my early departure from the valley and what the hell I want to do these next four months....
Sitting in the basement at Borders with elton john's greatest hits streaming through the speakers I palmed my way through a stack of impressive looking books--that were all really thick, had small print and no pictures...with an occasional trashy celeb magazine decorating my pile of reading...and yes I too was appauled to learn that Sarah Jessica Parker was on welfare growing up in Ohio--I mean welfare comeon now...that whole rags to riches story has so been done...need I mention Jewel...campervan...alaska?!?! Anyways as I sat there reading it hit me I can agnoize about how life changes unexpetedly whether your prepared for it or not or I could stop overanalyzing everything and start paying attention to what really matters--like the lovely early 60s couple of chinese women who were dropping f-bombs like nobody's business and egging one another on to see who could belch louder--these were no ordinary burps...I mean seriously we're talking richter scale here folks. That day I learned a valuable lesson besides the critical don't let age and gender fool you women can be just as crude as men, second I learned on one of my visits to the public restroom that new zealand bathrooms are like ridiculously clean...I mean we're talking cleaner than many of the upscale bathroom facilities at such fine dining restaurants as clydes, mortons and the palm...third I learned new zealanders are under the false pretense that 1-ply toilet paper that happens to break into two classifies as 2 ply...which I'm sad to report is definitely not the case...and lastly my great insight into new zealanders is that 15 year old girls getting drunk for the first time sound exactly the same in any country...I mean seriously I get it you loooooovvvve your friend, and yes the room is spinning, oh and double yes you are in fact just that cool spending a tues. night hanging ou in the lady's restroom at the mall, drunk and waiting for daddy to pick you up in the family minivan seeing as your curphew on a school night is 10. anyways my love/hate relationship with auckland is thankfully coming to an end as i finally leave this city behind and learn what its like to use public transportation--the dreaded bus system that is.
My friend Jen from the valley told me that the bus drivers like everyone to introduce themselves and tell something unique about yourself...so this past week I have been toying with 'hi, my name is Jenny and I have a disappearing birthmark." now before you scream lame...let me just let you naysayers in on a little something I like to call conversation starter of the century...I mean seriously how many people can say their birthmark is pink, disappears at the touch of a finger and is shaped like Kirstie Alley pre-Jenny Craig ?? Or there is always the "hi my name is Jenny and I almost killed two chickens in one day--whether it was by accidently locking a chicken into the feed bin where it nearly suffocated to death and developed a serious aversion to food--add giving a chicken anorexia to my list of things to resolve in therapy as well as there was the other chicken or rather rooster that I by accident dumped all the compost on and it nearly got henpecked to death right infront of my eyes. So the vote is on...Jenny the chicken killer or Jenny the proud owner of fashion's latest must have--a disappearing birthmark...you choose!

This past week was also spent visiting Operau or something like that...a beach located in the north that is famous for it's rough waters and surfing. Visiting that beach on a cloudy, windy cold day could not have been any more enjoyable. With the beach nearly deserted except for the occasional surfer or couple walking hand in hand in search of mussels washed ashore--we were free to roam, take in the fresh salty air, dip our toes into the water, collect seashells and reinact our very best baywatch imitations...in other words what more could you ask for? This past week I also visited Devonport, a small island located just a short ferry ride from Auckland which is probably the most elegant and sophisticated suburb I have come into contact yet since being in this country. With antique shops and cafes galore it was easy to spend the whole day wandering the streets, sipping coffee and strolling along the coast. It was also the perfect setting for my last meal with Pippa before we went our separate ways--as we reminisced over the last couple of months, pretended to be all sophisticated in a classy restaurant and shed some tears knowing that not only were we ending one chapter of our journey, but saying goodbye at least momentarily to a friendship that we jokingly related to the movies 'before sunrise and before sunset'...in other words we had a year to meet back up in europe...where we would travel on the millions I would have of course made in just one month after graduating university and then if for some reason that fell through then we would show up to each other's weddings...so either way I have a friend for life.

To make a long long long story short...I am officially done with my volunteer stint at Tararu Valley Sanctuary. This whole past week I had been debating whether or not to leave earlier in the week or hold out until Sunday when Pippa was also going to leave...but really what was causing me so much indecisiveness was the fact that as ready as I was to be done with this whole experience and move onto the next leg of my journey...the comfort in knowing the routine of the valley was making leaving that much harder. Now compare that with 4 months of no routine, galavanting all over new zealand and australia with no set agenda and total freedom...for most people the decision would be easy--move on, leave, get out,etc. but for me I was definitely a bit nervous--transition in general seems to do that to me--as much as I look forward to the future...the being in limbo state is definitely no fun.
So, let's fast forward to yesterday...woke up anxious as usual and headed into the lounge where I was assigned weeding for the day--which involved waging war on honeysuckle, attempting to pull out pampras which is a huge feather like weed...mind you this weed's root is like 3 feet by 3 feet and burried 2 feet in the ground...so it was no simple task. That afternoon I went down to the bottom orchard and mulched/maneured the avocado trees and finally made my way back up to the middle orchard where I started to weed around the vegetable garden. In the midst of weeding one second I was standing picking at some thistle, the next I was lying on the ground in the opposite direction and completely out of it...in other words I fainted...the only warnings I had had prior to that moment were the last few days my vision had been slightly blacking out and I had been pretty dizzy...not that fainting is anything extraordinary or anything, but it definitely caught me offguard and shook me up a bit--seeing as nobody else was anywhere in sight--but it did give me an excuse to chill that afternoon and take it easy.
So, anyways let's skip ahead to the juicy stuff...Pippa and I decided to leave wednesday (instead of our supposed saturday departure) and spend tuesday doing laundry , errands, packing, etc...now mind you we decided this all, but had yet to inform Dagmar and Jon...little did we know what we were setting ourselves up for...dun dun dun que some scary threatening music and sit back and hold your seats folks...this ride is going to be a bumpy one. Anyways upon our rather informal yet assertive declaration of our plans we were met with an immediate request...more like demand for a "talk"...whenever people say 'talk' you know it's going to be interesting...anyways as we sat around the table Jon and Dagmar let both Pippa and I have it...saying that we were leaving them in a lurch, that it wasn't fair that we were ducking out a couple days early and that they wouldn't have it...mind you we are PAYING THEM and we are doing MANUAL LABOR for THEM...so in reality they had no justifications whatsoever for their reactions...but as tension mounted, words were exchanged...and well instead of stooping to their pathetic level of arrogant condescension...I decided to laugh off the whole thing and not let them realize that their words were affecting me in the slightest...which of course only further fueled their rage and led to their immediate 'dismissal' of us...in other words I followed true Lewis tradition and got kicked out of 'volunteering'...how good am I? The funny thing is I did absolutely nothing wrong except save them 3 days worth of feeding me and housing me..I know I'm such a bitch. Anyways they told us to pack our stuff up immediately and we would be dropped off in town...just to give you some insight into what class acts these people are...they told pippa she should be greatful for this experience because she was getting a reduced rate since she was on scholarship...i mean seriously what assholes...just because someone can't fully pay for something they make you feel inferior...oh and they told me that they didn't appreciate my indecisiveness about whether I was planning to stay at the valley or not...funny isn't it...considering they left me waiting till about a week before i was planning to travel in the south island to tell me that there would be no volunteers coming in may and that if i stayed i would be doing administrative work...
now this is where things get interesting...so we packed up, I laughed some more just to put a little more salt in the wounds...the funny thing was the second I was packed and in the van headed to downtown thames...all the mounted tension, stress, anxiety I had been feeling since being at the valley completely lifted...no joke--not to be all hokey or what not, but it reassured me that us leaving was definitely the right thing to do...anyways during the drive down we had to listen to jon spew some bullshit yogie mumbo jumbo about how everything happens for a reason and hopefully we won't let what happened that morning color our whole experience and bla bla...all the while I was happily humming to myself the michael jackson 'free willy' theme song...don't ask me why...but well it just felt right...also you'll note the only words I know to that song are..'hold me like the river jordan...' so i'm not exactly too sure how it fit the mood...but somehow someway it did. anyways in town we did some laundry and decided to attempt to hitch a ride to auckland instead of taking a bus...side note mom just appreciate that i'm telling you this instead of pretending otherwise...anyways after hauling three bags that weighed i'd say near 80 pounds a little over a mile we parked our stuff at the side of the road and did our best to look desperate and in dire need of a ride...apparently it worked because we got a ride in less than 10 min. so the guy who picked us up...middle aged and on his way to pick up his "wife" in auckland from the airport...so sketch points so far = 1...then add the fact that we took the scenic route to auckland instead of the regular route add another point, then there was the whole pretend calls made to hotels in town to book for him and his 'wife' add one more...then the whole comment about only picking up attractive young girls...add 1 again...and finally the icing on the cake was the whole 'well, girls seeing as how you guys say you haven't had a proper shower in 2 months you are more than welcome to come to my hotel room and have one'...alrighty this is the point when doors were checked as to whether they were locked or not, awkward silence filled the air and I scooted as close as possible to the door handle...long story short we made it safe and sound to our hostel said goodbye to paul our hitchiking pedophile and called it a night....
now I will be in auckland until friday when I plan to take the bus and start making my way south towards wellington, then all along the west coast of the south island up along the east coast of the south island back up to the north island and then all along the northernmost tip of the north island...so will keep you posted...in the meantime love and miss you all and tell me how you're doing!

The next day we spent hiking on a trail that was actually well defined in comparison to the backcountry treks we had been doing the last couple of days. The first part of the hike was on a section of the tongariro crossing--one of the most popular day hikes to do in all of New Zealand. The negative being that at any given point there can be some 800 people doing the crossing making the hike feel less like an escape from civilization and more like standing in a neverending line at the grocery store while somewhere faint in the distance you can hear someone continually asking for a cleanup on aisle 4. At times it felt like I was in my very own where's waldo where everyone seemed dressed in the same outdoorsy clothes and hiking boots making differntiating my fellow hikers from the masses difficult--except for the fact that we had huge backpacks on while most of the dayhikers were outfitted with small dayhike bags. Surrounded for the most part by unfamiliar faces and redundant stories of past hikes and heavy sighing and gasps as the scenery contined to mystify and baffle and the scree and upward ascents took their physical toll on the hikers of all ages. Anyways 1/2 way through the hike we ended up walking off the beaten path in an effort to do some illegal camping for the night. the place we decided to set up our tents at was surrounded in this mud which can only be described as goldeny mustard colored reminiscent of a mud facial that jiggled under the weight of one's boot much in the same fashion as cellulite--beautiful imagery I know. That night I shared a tent with Dagmar while Pippa and Jen were in the other tent nearby. I ended up getting little if any sleep that night seeing as how the ground was completely frozen over. Dagmar believes in cross ventilation and by that I mean having both sides of the tent completely unzipped and open. Now mind you this woman is pregnant so I was doing my best to accomodate her...while she on the other hand made it her personal mission to tell me everything that was wrong with my camping gear. It began with my sleeping pad...now mine is your standard ridge rest...her's was the inflatable type that kept her 5 inches from the ground while mine caused me to sink into the ground--with no protection whatsoever from the cold. Now on to the fact that I was wearing 6 layers on the top, 6 layers on the bottom as well as 4 pairs of wool socks, a rain jacket, a fleece jacket, a pair of glacial gloves and a wool hat...now what was Dagmar wearing you ask? A cotton shirt and pants...and she spent the whole night reminding me of just how warm and toasty she was as I shivered for dear life...lovely woman isn't she?

I awoke with a nervous excitement brewing as I knew the next week ahead would be full of challenging backpacking, exploration of a new place and time away from the valley. We left the valley at around 8am, but didn't arrive at Tongariro National Park until 6pm that night after making a mad dash to the Khatmandu outdoor apparel store in Hamilton. As we started the ascent from the carpark up towards the alpine hut where we would be spending the evening it was amazing to see the starc contrast between the farming land on one side of the road and near barren volcanic rock covered landscape that surrounded the bottom of Mt. Ruapehu. Hiking up with a fully loaded backpack along scree--gravel like rocky terrain by torches was definitely memorable as a faint and at times steady downpour of mist and rain clouded the air. Mt. Doom from Lord of the Rings was barely in sight in the distance illuminated by a near full moon and that lovely aura that radiates when the moon is caught behind a billowy cloud. When we finally arrived at the hut we were pleasently surprised to find that we had the whole cabin to ourselves--we each claimed a bunk and began prepping for dinner. No meal tastes as good as the one right after a nice hike--that's for sure. That evening as the temperatures got near freezing, I found myself shaking and unable to warm myself up no matter how many layers I seemed to bundle myself up in.
The next day we woke up again bright and early in an effort to get to the summit of Mt. Ruapehu before the weather took a turn for the worse. We started off walking along the riverbed, carefully maneuvering our way through rocks and cold glacial waters...that whole morning I couldn't seem to shake a feeling of negativity that seemed to linger in the pit of my stomach--in other words hiking that day was definitely much more of a mental challenge than physical. That is the common theme for much of what I've encoutnered since being in this country--things might be hard physically, but I know I can do them...it is the mind that is the much more powerful demon that needs the reassurance. The hike slowly changed from rocky to ice as we found ourself walking straight up sheets of snow and ice, having to really stab our feet into the ground--mimicking crampons--if we wanted any real chance of staying vertical. The final part of the hike consisted of a scramble up some scree and snow that for every two feet you were able to hoist yourself up and over you went four feet backwards seeing as how getting any real good gripping of the terrain with one's hiking boots was rather difficult. All that effort to get to the summit was more than worth it as we were greeted by a scene straight out of mars with a huge crater right infront of us covered in snow with random pockets in the snow every couple of feet that gave way to the molten rock that laid covered in ice below. What started out as a fairly clear morning started to take a turn for the worse as the temperatures became blistering cold, the winds picked up and seeing the person right infront of you became increasingly difficult...but since we had made it to the summit we weren't planning on descending until we at least got the opportunity to chekout crater lake and see how the terrain had changed in the last few months--seeing as there had been a fairly recent landslide. Relying solely on Dagmar's familiarity with the mountain we were somehow or another able to make it to a cliff that in theory was supposed to overlook the lake...but because of the dense cloud coverage it felt more like we were being enveloped in the arms of a cloud in the middle of nowhere rather than just a few hundred feet from an enormous frozen lake. We tried to wait out the weather, but the longer we waited, the colder it got and the fewer provisions we had so eventually we made our way back down towards the hut. The hike down made up for the fact that we didn't get to see the lake--it was amazing as my spirits quickly lifted as we took off our rain jackets tied them around our waist and used them as makeshift sleds to slide our way down the icy ravine that seemed to span for miles weaving our way in and out of rocks, as the speeds picked up and innocent screams of laughter and excitement echoed through the otherwise quiet mountainside I found my face flushed and a smile from ear to ear.