New Zealand Travels (April 6th, 2003) The Day of the Bungy

I awoke to find myself getting tea and toast in bed. I even had some Vegemite on it. Thanks, Amy. Chris had gone off early to do his big Nevis jump, 134m straight down, 7 seconds of free fall, the highest jump in New Zealand. So Amy, Amanda and I shot the breeze while watching Sunday morning TV. With Chris doing his big bungy, my thoughts naturally turned to my own. I still hadn’t reconciled why I wasn’t inclined to do the bungy. In the end a childhood memory came to my rescue.

When I was about 12, I had a friend called Jason. He was one of those people that had a lot of self-confidence and enjoyed taking risks. One day, we found ourselves out at Seagull Rock – just at the end of a headland off a secluded Cornish beach.
The great thing about this rock was that it provided a clear drop of about 8m into the sea below. Now as a kid of 12, I’d never even dreamed of jumping from such a height. Add to this my (then) recent climbing wall experiences, and it would be easy to conclude that I wouldn’t be too happy about jumping off. Jason went first, feet first, followed quickly by another friend, Simon. I was left all by myself at the top of the rock, looking down at my two friends swimming back in. I had to act. Failure was not an option. So I took a deep breath and cast myself into the void. I fell for what seemed like hours and then I splashed down. I was alive! After that, I was hooked. We spent the day jumping off various parts of the rock, Jason was even swan diving off it by the end but I drew the line at that. I guess I just didn’t have the bottle.

Anyway, the point of all this useless narrative was to being back the single epiphany that blew away my clouds of doubt and enabled me to make my decision. It occurred to me that what was stopping me (by making me indecisive) was my Fear of the initial drop. The act of Will that overcomes the instinct to avoid steep edges and forces rationality over base Fear. However, I had already overcome that Fear in my childhood so there was no longer a need to conquer it again. Now the question was simple: Would I like the experience of doing a bungy jump? Hell, yes, came the immediate reply.

I strode down to the booking office and slapped down my credit card. I was committed now. The bus took us out to the Karawau Bridge and we went through the registration process. At the time, in all my clothes, I weighed 81kg (tubby ball of lard). During the bus ride I had met up with Martin, an AA roadside mechanic, who happened to come from the same town as me and even lived about half a mile down the road. Weird how these things work out, eh? So we chatted and it was obvious that he was more than a little nervous, so I spent much of my time with him reassuring, empathising and generally making light of what we were about to do.

Quickly our time came about. Martin went first, and without a sound – he even had his head dipped in the “Kiss of Death” option. I opted to keep dry since it was freezing and the idea of actually hitting the water gave me the heebie jeebies (OK I can let a bit of fear get the better of me).

I put on my harness and sat down near to the ledge. My guide wrapped a towel around my ankles and secured it in place. He then attached a second safety cable to my harness in case the towel somehow managed to slip off. All through this the familiar feelings of stomach churning anticipation continued to gnaw away at me.

"Don’t do it! There’s still time to stop all this!"

My little inner voice didn’t want to grow, but I did. I wobbled to my feet, and hobbled to the edge. “This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done in my life”, I said to my guide, who was without doubt the single most reassuring presence on that windy platform. I knew I was being videoed so I made myself stick my arms out in a swan dive stance. I took a deep breath, looked at the horizon and felt the pounding of my heart. 5.. 4.. 3.. 2.. 1.. Bungy!

I went.

I left the platform in a haze of fear and adrenalin. As I fell I yelled out, "Who’s your Daddy!?" and the river came so close, so fast that I thought I was going to touch it. I wanted to touch it. I wanted more. I twanged back up, catapulting up into the air, this time yelling, "I’m your Daddy!" As I flew through the air I became disoriented, I wanted to do back flips and somersaults but I didn’t know how to get the timing right.

And then it was over.

I was gently lowered into the inflatable boat and deftly unhooked from my harness. I had crossed over to the other side. I had done my first, but not last, bungy jump. I came up the path back to the bridge with Martin, both of us pumped, psyched and feeling invincible. In what seemed a matter of moments we had our AJ Hackett Bungy Goodie Bags and were sipping tea on the shuttle bus back home.

For the rest of the day I kept going back to that one moment on the ledge where I just blanked my mind and went for it. Every time I look back on it now, I still feel that pure buzz of thrill and excitement of dropping into the void with only an elastic band to bring you back from the kiss of death.

New Zealand Travels (April 5th, 2003) Thinking about the Bungy

Rode the bus to Queenstown, adventure capital of the world, after doing a bit of emailing and photo updating. Queenstown is home to the first bungy jump by AJ Hackett off the 43m Karawau suspension bridge.

Needless to say, the Magic Bus pulled up beside it to offer us the chance to see various hapless souls flinging themselves off the bridge with only a rubber band to stop them from hitting the river. So we watched, and I had to ask myself the question: "Do I really want to do this?" And the answer came back as an uncertain no. All the time I was standing on the observation platform I was trying to convince myself to both do the jump, and not to do the jump. Each decision had its own arguments, but in the end my time ran out and I had to leave before I had reached my decision.

It wasn’t simply a matter of feeling the Fear, I was concerned that the only reason I had an interest in doing a bungy was purely because of peer pressure. I knew that Fear, directly, would not be able to stop me, so (personifying a little here) maybe my Fear had changed tactics so that it would suppress desire, rather than instigate a gut churning, sweaty, uncomfortable feeling.

I couldn’t tell, so I had to figure it out.

New Zealand Travels (April 3rd, 2003) Siberian Experience

We took a fairly quiet trip down from Franz Josef to Makarora. To call this place a one horse town would be to grossly overestimate the local population. Put it this way, when the Magic Bus rolls into town the population doubles. This is no disrespect to the locals who are lovely people, but I wouldn’t want to spend more than one night there. Having said that, I had a fine old time doing the Siberian Experience, followed by a night of serious beers.

So what is the Siberian Experience? Well, dear reader, sit back and relax while I tell thee of a saga of near heroic proportions. Oh, wait, that’s for later.

The trip I went on involved a place flight, a walk and then a jet boat ride home. The place was a trusty old Cessna. Nice and light so that the smallest puff of wind would shunt her sideways, or down. And, let’s face it, a mountainous valley like those that surround good old Makarora is full of turbulence. So we ducked and dived, weaved and wobbled and ended up shunting and shimmying before we finally swooped down in a 2G steep circle dropping 2000 feet in as many milliseconds. And then we gently touched down onto a little gravel strip in the middle of nowhere.

We got out of the plane, the pilot pointed vaguely across a shallow river saying "Go that way, the boat’ll be along to pick you up. Oh yeah, you need to cross the river." And he climbed back into the plane and took off.

There were a few people already waiting for us and they didn’t look too experienced at hill walking. So Chris and I adopted a sort of "We’re your guides, let’s go cross the river" attitude. Thank God for quick drying socks and my ever-present towel. Always know where your towel is, they say, and mine lives in a small net attached to my day sack. So I looked organised, at least.

The walk itself was pretty lightweight – especially after the glacier stuff earlier, so it wasn’t long before we arrived at the little jet boat jetty. In fact we were about an hour early and the sand flies must have thought that Christmas had come early. Fortunately, Mr Organised had learned from his experiences in Abel Tasman and always carried bug spray in his day sack. Not that it did much good – these little bastards were probably immune to the stuff having lived off DDT since birth.

Eventually the jet boat arrived and we shot off over the shallow water at a blistering pace. Flying over the rive in a jet boat is an experience like no other. The boat handles as if it is on fails, not on some dodgy meandering mountain stream. This is indeed fortunate, especially when you’re flying towards a very solid bank of rocks – sideways – only to be saved from crushing agony by a quick flick of the steering wheel and the 90 degree turn that instantly follows. This high speed snaking roller coaster ride from Hell went on for nearly an hour by which time my face was aching from laughing so much. And the wind chill probably contributed, too.

By the time we got back to the others we were at least a pint behind so it was hand to the pump to pour our own from our shared 50 litre barrel. Which shortly extended to 75, and then, after a bit of salesmanship from me, graduated to a full 100 litres of beer consumed during the evening. By about 30 people.

I didn’t roll in until 2am after spending the night being Guru, Musical Conductor, Financial Advisor, Business Analyst and Marketing Strategist. Not necessarily in that order. Funnily enough, the subject of Computer Programming never came up which bodes ill for that part of my life in the future, I feel. Time for me to execute a sharp change of career I do believe. Anyway, I had a brilliant night and I may have influenced one of the locals to start up a silver jewellery business. So look out world, Makarora is getting onto the map.

New Zealand Travels (April 2nd, 2003) Franz Josef Glacier

We changed into the mankiest boots imaginable then located our "Talonz" and GoreTex rain jackets. Then we piled into a bus and tramped from the drop off up to the terminal face of the glacier. Our guide, Kris, had a tongue stud and a large axe called Maverick. Since it was obvious that he knew how to use it, I kept my quips to myself and concentrated instead on figuring out how to walk on ice. Not snow - ice.

Fortunately this task was made all the easier because of the Talonz - a foot-mounted metal contraption that provided half inch spikes to drive into the ice. Before long we were merrily wandering about on the surface of the glacier as if it was a hill. That soon changed once we started to enter the crevasses. Kris would go ahead and carve out the various steps in the ice with his axe, we then had to follow. Only trouble was that the path was often extremely steep; we were wearing good sized packs that forced us to lean forward; and, probably most importantly, we were facing directly into the mouth of a yawning crevasse. Rarely did I get to see the bottom of one of these beasts which only added to the sense of fear as one made the careful descent to a precarious ledge twenty feet down.

Every so often we would have to tentatively squeeze foot over foot along the floor of a shallow crevasse. Either side would be a towering cliff of smooth ice forming the walls of the prison. Looking up a sheer face to daylight is reassuring when the space are working through is just over a foot wide.

I suppose I’m making it out to be more scary than it actually was. Kris looked after us all very well and the standard of walkers in the group was very high. Nobody freaked out, and we made good time over all the obstacles that were put into our path: steep climbs; near vertical descents doing the Franz Josef Shuffle; ice tunnels; narrow cracks; ice bridges; ladders over chasms; careful stepping to avoid deep pools of water and finally the narrowest crack on the glacier.

We had to take off our packs and gingerly slip through an 8 inch crack in the wall. Getting stuck is not for the faint hearted, and I was able to slide out and through the tricky part without too much trouble. By the end of the day we had seen many marvellous features on the glacier and we were less than halfway up. Imagine the effort involved in making a complete ascent.

That night I was pretty tired and ended up spending the evening by myself. I checked my email at a funky internet café made from a converted bus (which had Moon Safari by Air playing as background music) which goes to show that the Kiwis have a great sense of style.

New Zealand Travels (March 30th, 2003) Abel Tasman Walk

Groggily awoke after a hot and sticky night below decks. Surrounded on all sides by young foreign women (mainly Swiss and German) so it wasn’t all bad. However, apart from the excitement of finding phosphorescent plankton the night before, there was little else to amuse. So we sorted out breakfast, made sandwiches and were ferried ashore to start our walk.

Once again we were impressed with a sense of urgency – you must be here by 3:15 or you will die a slow and horrible death. Or that sort of sentiment anyway. However, according to the “Map of Doom” we were already destined for a headhunters cauldron because we had started 30 minutes late. But once more we prevailed by using our feet in the usual manner. NZ really overestimate the time taken to get places - I’m sure they are geared to 60 year old American tourists in flip flops. But I digress. We trundled off down the track in continuous heavy rain. We made rapid progress and soon reached Cleopatras Pool. Unfortunately getting across to the pool proved tricky for the less sure-footed members of the party. Amanda and Amy put their foot in the water which meant that they were walking on wet feet for the rest of the day. Amanda blamed Chris for letting go at a crucial moment, Amy just wrung out her sock and soldiered on (go girl!). So we put on a bit of a pace and before long we had reached Torrent Bay. Checking the clock we were on schedule, but only just. We chatted briefly to some Germans, Sandra and Jurgen (who had some of the best walking gear I’ve ever seen) and then continued on up a long uphill blow until we reached our next big landmark: the suspension bridge.

This is the bridge that appears in virtually every tourist brochure about walking in Abel Tasman. So it was photo time. Chris “David Bailey” Horton went off first with a few cameras to get the best viewpoint. The rest of us monopolised the bridge mercilessly until we had enough shots to be satisfied and then we carried on. It was 5 minutes before the appointed deadline when we reached the critical landmark of Barks Bay. By the time we were ready to continue we were 20 minutes into “Headhunter Time”. We faced a decision: do we attempt to complete the walk risking missing the Sea Taxi, or do we wait here instead?

Chris and I opted for completing the walk, Amy and Amanda chose to go with us for an hour then return to Barks Bay. Svenke and Krystel decided to stay and chill out. It wasn’t long before Amy and Amanda reassessed their choice leaving Chris and I to turn up the pace. The clock was ticking. Fearing that we would be forced to turn back I put a hell of a pace on: at least 6mph – sustained up one enormous hill. I should mention that as we tackled the huge uphill we were going flat out and it nearly wiped us out. My heart was pounding and it was will power that was keeping the pace up. Chris was a bit worried that I was trying to kill him. Fortunately we had about the same fitness level when it came to walking. Shortly we crested the hill and met up with some other walkers coming the other way. By this time our clock was pounding as loud as our hearts – we only had 2 hours to complete the 3 hour journey ahead of us. I asked the hikers how long it was to the next beach, our destination. “Oh, that’s about 30 minutes away.” At their pace. By pushing up that hill we had made up over 2 hours of time.

And then Sandra turned up in shorts, trainers and T-shirt. She had caught up with us! Was she some kind of ultra-fit German fell runner? We had last seen her at Barks Bay and she was a good 30 minutes behind us. Not wanting to appear old and unfit I started off down the path at a fair old clip chatting away to Sandra while trying not to sound too out of breath. Then we encountered another long uphill and I was forced to concentrate to keep the pace up when I noticed Sandra was finding the pace hard too. Then it dawned on me: she thought Chris and I were some kind of ultra-fit English fell runners. Immediately the pace slowed to a sort of saunter and we found out how she had been able to catch us up. “I ran most of the way, except for that big hill – I had to walk up that.” So we bimbled on chatting about this and that until we arrived at the appointed beach well ahead of schedule.

The Tasman Sea was gently rolling in and we decided that the best way to relax after a hard stomp in the woods was a pleasant swim in the water. And so it was that we all spent the next hour splashing out in the Tasman Sea, in the rain, thoroughly enjoying ourselves. After we had dried off the Sea Taxi came to take us home which was an adventure in itself.

Two 250hp outboard motors with a driver who had a typical Kiwi attitude is a dangerous mix. Pow! We flew off the top of a wave. Slap! We hit the next one and powered straight through it. The driver was in a hurry and he meant business. Life-jackets anyone? We don’ need no steenking life-jackets, man, but maybe a will writing service would be in order. Two French guys came on board later in the trip and were forced to stand up all the way. Poor bastards. One of them had a good handhold, the other wasn’t so lucky. I must have seen 2 feet of clear air under feet a dozen times. By the end of it he was looking pretty green.

So we returned to the hostel in Nelson and had the lovely experience of warming our cold, wet bodies in the hot bubbly spa. Life can be sweet sometimes. It was there that we met Andy (soon to be Maximus) another member of Posse 2. All too soon we had to leave, but at least our bellies were full and our clothes clean and dry. Next stop: Greymouth…

New Zealand Travels (March 25th, 2003) Tongariro Crossing

"The Tongariro Crossing. One of the top 20 walks in the world. An unmissable experience for anybody interested in walking in New Zealand. If the day is good it’s awesome, if it’s bad weather then it’s a dispiriting slog in the rain. Hesitantly, I opened the curtains. The sight that greeted my peering eye filled my heart with joy… an outstanding day – not a cloud in the sky.

One hour later and the posse was standing at the base of the walk staring up at the imposing volcanic features ahead of us. Mount Doom (for it was in LOTR) dominated the skyline with sides so steep that it would require hands and feet to get up them. Ahead of us the path meandered over a level plain until vanished from view. So no problem so far.

The path was pretty straightforward until reached the first real ascent. Not so much a hand and feet climb, but more a continuous uphill drag over sandy rocks. So for about half and hour we made a slow, steady pace reaching the top in good shape. At this point I should mention that all the time we were in the bus on the way there we were relentlessly drilled about how we must not be late for the buses which were to pick us up at the other end. This kind of put the fear of God into us so that we didn’t dare stop for very long which was a shame because I would have liked to ascend Mt. Doom and done some more exploring around the area. So the full extended posse (myself, Chris, Donny, Amy the Hobbit, Amanda the Lawyer, Charlie and Bernie, Aimless Amy and Charmaigne pressed on.

We ascended a short rise and the whole view opened up to reveal Red Crater. Oh my God, what a view. A vast panorama stretched out before us as the ground dropped away steeply into a huge smoking volcanic crater. Photographs just could not do justice to this breathtaking sight. One can only simply stand and stare at the awesome scale of the beauty that has been revealed.

As ever, the nagging clock was ticking and we trudged reluctantly up the next rise only to be greeted with another awe inspiring sight. Below us, set against a yellow ochre region of harsh rocks, were 3 emerald lakes sparkling in the high noon sun. Magnificent.

Shortly afterwards, we sped down a steep scree run and rapidly crossed a huge extinct crater. The scale of everything was amazing and leaves one with a profound sense of insignificance in the presence of Nature. After that, the walk began a long, slow, steeply stepped descent to the valley floor. Once past the hand halfway hut (Chris and I had a chance for an hours kip while we waited for the others to catch up) we al trooped down the endless series of steps, into the forest and finally made out just in time for Donny to catch the early bus home (so she could get her dinner)."

New Zealand Travels (March 24th, 2003) Horse Riding

"Myself, Chris, Amy and Donny headed south on the Magic Bus to Turangi. On the way we had to pass through Taupo so that various people could have a chance at a skydive. Since we had a few hours to kill, Chris and I opted for an afternoon of horse trekking. (Well one has to try these things).

Useful pointers for dealing with horses:-
1) As soon as you sit on the horse he’ll try to eat – don’t let him or he’ll think you’re soft
2) Hold the reins in both hands – right rein with gently (but firm) pressure makes horse go in the direction
3) When trotting keep in time with the natural rhythm of the horse of you’ll lose a testicle or two
4) When cantering lean back in the saddle and relax, let the horse take you

I think I was still psyched up from my rock climbing adventures so as I climbed aboard my horse, Leo, I wasn’t in the slightest bit concerned. We went for a short trial stroll while got the hang of steering and then we were off.

Before long we had left the farm behind and I had experienced my first trot – ouch. (Mental note: check number of testicles on safe return). A little after that and one of the guides suggested a canter. I thought "Why the hell not?" So off we went. What a thrill! Zooming over the countryside on the back of a horse trying not to fall off but not wanting the ride to end either. We did this a couple of times more and each time I grew more confident – steering Leo around and over various obstacles and getting him to walk on, trot and slow down as I wanted. All in all, a pretty good way to spend to sunny afternoon.

[Evening activities: Censored.]"

New Zealand Travels (March 23rd, 2003)

"Spent all morning back at the climbing wall. I think I’m developing a keen interest in this so I’m going to take it up once I get back home. In the afternoon Chris and I headed off to the spas and boiled in the hot waters. Once again the evening Tamaki was Tamaki time, mainly because I wanted to purchase one of the wood carvers sculptures. After the usual process I was able to visit the wood carver, Red, and was dismayed to see that the wood carving that I was after was marked not for sale. Disaster.

It turned out that these pieces are commissioned pieces only and are representative of the family history of the person requesting the work. If I was willing to lay down about 1200 bucks I could have one made. I took the guys email address and I’ll consider it.

While I was wandering about Chris spied a taiaha – the traditional Maori fighting instrument. As soon as I laid eyes on it I know I wanted one. What better reminder could I have of my travels through the country? The only problem was that Chris had bought the last one. I was a little disappointed but not exactly distraught. It turned out that Chris was a bit of a weapons collector and had studied jujitsu for some time, so it seemed fitting that he should get the chance to own one."

New Zealand Travels (March 22nd, 2003) Climbing Wall

"Back into Rotorua. Had a pleasant journey down to Waitomo chatting away to Amy and Donny (Dutch woman). Since we had all been told about black water rafting we all decided to give it a go. This is how it went down: got off the bus, paid and shot off in the most rickety little shuttle bus you could imagine. We put on our wetsuits and stashed our gear ready for the final journey to the cave. As we bumped along we got chatting to the guides and we introduced ourselves. It turned out that most of the people on that bus were to make up the posse for the next few days so I should have paid more attention during the sound off.

Anyway, we had a short hike down to the cave where we were kitted out with our tractor tyre inner tubes. One size fits all, unless you're a 5 foot nothing Japanese woman. (We also had a 7 foot English guy, Rob, on board so I should ahve taken a picture of the two of them together).

We were led down into the caves and it got dark pretty quick. After a few moments we were deep in the heart of the caves and gazing up to see the glowworms. They looked like tiny pinpricks of bluish green light. This light is used to attract small flying insects that wander into the cave and get caught on the long sticky line that stretches out below the glowworm. So we continued into the caverns down various passages with the water level steadily rising until we could finally place our tubes into the water. We turned them around so that we were facing backwards with our legs up on our neighbours inner tube. Once linked we were gently towed by our guides into the deeper waters in total darkness (we had to turn off our helmet lights). As we floated along we could hear the ever increasing sound of rushing, tumbling water. Our guides called out for us to expect a dunking of about 5 or 6 seconds as we were going to be pushed under a short sump. Eeek! OK, no problem - feel the fear etc etc. Nothing to panic about, just a short holding of the break, cold water glooding over me and two guides to drag me through the whole thing. Except they were just winding us up. Bastards!

What actually happened at the waterfall was a little worse.

A 10 foot drop into the darkness, backwards, with a tractor tyre inner tube held against your butt. Happy now. Yeah, right. But it had to be done so I held my breath and stepped off backwards...wooosh - splosh. I was down safe and sound. After that it was plain paddling, albeit in circles a lot of the time. We sang songs that we made up on the spot. I had a fine old time improvising to House of the Rising Sun.

The next obstacle that had to be overcome was the slide. In comparison to the jump it was a piece of cake and it wasn't long before we were all climbing the steep passage that led us back to the surface. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed the black water tubing and it was from that point that our posse began to form.

In the evening we rolled back into Rotorua - the Smelly City - only this time I was dropped off outside the hostel called The Wall. This place was cool, really cool. In fact, it was so cool that it even had it's own climbing wall. Not some namby pamby 10m single route piece of shite. This was a full on International Rock Climbing graded complex. At least 20 routes, each with their own set of ropes, a chimney, numerous overhangs and even a crag tunnel where you can only use your arms and hang down. I immediately formed a lasting friendship with Chris Horton since it became apparent that we had a lot in common. He had done rock climbing before so he took the first climb as I learned how to belay which took about 5 minutes.

After that it was my turn, and it suddenly dawned on me that I was going to climb 20m off the ground on a grade 11 wall. And I was coming back down on a belay. Let me explain what happened the last time I was on a climbing wall with a belay...

I was 12 years old and in the school sports hall. The people holding the rope were the people I disliked the most in school, and they felt the same about me. More importantly, there was no friction lock on the rope, only 5 kids vaguely holding the rope and chatting among themselves. So I felt supremely confident making my ascent as you can doubtless imagine. Couple that to the curious vertigo that I was getting as I went cautiously up the wall. A couple of times I got stuck and asked to be let down. Nope - I had to go ever upwards. PE teachers can be so sadistic, but I suppose it was for the best. Eventually, I reached the first marker point, a small shelf wide enough for me to sit on. And there I made my stand, as it were. I was going no further and that was that. After a few yanks on the rope, and various calls of chicken etc they gave up and lowered me back down. Dangling there from a dodgy rope setup held by a bunch of drongos didn't instill a great love of rock climbing in me so I shied away from the school climbing club and rapidly forgot all about it. A couple of times I messed about with short abseils but for the most part I hadn't climbed a wall in at least 15 years.

Until now.

I stared up at the wall arching up and up above me. I tested my rope, harness, belay and safety knot. Then I test them again. Then I started the climb. Hand grips and foot grips were a little greasy but nice and easy to find and use. I started to make rapid progress up and up keeping 3 points of contact at any given time. I negotiated a tricky section and glanced down - woah there, boy! Palms sweaty, knees wobbling and then deep gut wrenching spasms which slowly passed as I clung to my wall 45 feet from the ground. And there was still more to go. I looked up, steeled myself and pushed onwards.

Shortly after that mind twisting moment I ran out of wall and gave the platform at the top a good hard slap so that Chris would know I was finished. Well not quite finished. There was still the small matter of letting go of the wall and totally trusting the rope and harness to hold me up in the air while Chris lowered me back to earth and safety. Slowly I leaned out, every inch a mile, every second an hour, until finally I was in position to be lowered. Step by step I descended, rope carefully controlled by Chris until finally I touched down pumped full of adrenalin and ready for more.

We spent about 3 hours on walls of varying degrees of difficulty tackling overhangs, chimney formations and the big finale - the 30m wall. By the end of the session we were totally confident in each others belaying to the point where I slipped off a face and spun about laughing as I was brought down. Afterwards we off to the bar upstairs (Outlaws) where we sat on bar stools in the shape of saddles. Another good day."

New Zealand Travels (March 21st, 2003)

"Up at the crack of 9 ish and scuttled off to face the Mack Attack - a high speed power boat that offered a fast way to check out the Bay of Islands. While I was waiting for the boat to be ready, I got a call from Richard which was good (cheers mate). The Mack Attack lived up to it's name. I zoomed over the waves with varying degrees of fear, alarm and (eventually) calm acceptance. We went through the Hole in the Rock and around the other side to see the Man Looking Out to Sea (rock formation) and Cathedral Cave (very large hole in the side of the rock which was unusally warm and humid).

After I got back I met up with Inma who was absolutely sick as a dog. The hangover had hit her hard and all she could do was moan and hold her head in her hands. We chatted for a bit but my bus was leaving so I had to go. We hugged and bade our farewells and I hope I see her again.

The Magic Bus took us back into Aukland and I resolved to have a quiet night, however I did arrange to meet Paul at the Starbucks at 7pm for one or two goodbye beers but he was a no show. Maybe it was because he was totally pissed when I made the arrangement - I don't know. So I had a spare few hours to kill in Aukland. I ate at the food court and returned to the hostel to sort out my laundry. And then the phone rang...

[Snip significant crisis at home involving ex-girlfriend]

...which pissed me right off."

New Zealand Travels (March 20th, 2003) 90 mile beach

"Cruised around on the bus all day (again) looking at the features of the far North, or Cape Reinga. Highlights included: the big Kauri tree; the Northernmost tip of New Zealand; a bit of dune surfing; a bus ride down 90 Mile Beach; digging for shellfish; eating fish and chips and getting home by 7:30 after sampling some local fruit.

Let me tell you about that Kauri tree: it's HUGE - I mean seriously BIG. The trunk was the width of two coaches and it towered over everything else in the forest. According to the signpost nearby it is 2000 years old so it must have been a sapling when Jesus Christ walked the earth. After seeing the tree, we headed North for ages with the scenery getting bleaker and bleaker. Everyone on the bus did the usual things: retreating into a book or sleeping. Keeping a conversation going seemed to be too much effort and I felt so tired. The lighthouse at the tip was a good photo to have, as was the confluence between the Pacific Ocean and the Tasman Sea. (I'm building up a collection of Pacific confluences it seems). Finally, we got to what I though would be the highlight of the day - dune surfing.

Take one enormous sand dune (150m steep sided), add to this a boogie board with slightly insane rider pumped on adrenalin. Mix together for some serious entertainment. I went and down that hill 3 times before I ran out of energy. Climbing the steep sides through deep sliding sands is not fun, but the thril you get from shooting down the other side keeps you coming back for more.

The real highlight of the day came after we had zoomed down 90 Mile Beach (actually 90km is closer) for about half and hour. The driver pulled over and we all piled out to go digging for shellfish. Basically, you walk to the wave zone and dig a small pit about 5 inches deep. As the waves rush over the pit it helps to loosen the sand making it simple to pull out the shellfish. Some are too small for the pot and get thrown back in, but the ones with a yellow and black shell make good eating - even raw. (Yes, I broke one open and ate the contents - lovely). Learning something like that meant more to me than the simple tourist pleasures. Should I feel hungry on a remote beach I now know that I can find food. It has given me a small desire to learn more about living closer to the land, and also the connections between the food in the ocean and the food that ends up on the dinnerplate.

That evening I met up with Inma and Tom. Inma had got off the bus before Paihia and ended up having an entire hostel all to herself. The town as as small as it could be - it didn't event get a 1 horse rating so entertainment would ahve been tricky. Tom was a Richard Gere lookalike who was traveling to find himself in one way or another. We all had a good laugh drinking beer in the local karaoke bar, and, yes, Paul gave us another emotionally charged rendition of Delila. It was getting late, but none of us wanted to go home so we carried on to the local nightclub until 2am. So we all danced and drank and eventually rolled in home about 4am after having a good night out."

New Zealand Travels (March 18th, 2003)

"Awoke and discovered that Inma was in the same lodge as me. This came as a complete surprise when I bimbled out all bleary eyed and hungover. Still, it meant that we could spend some time together so we agreed to visit Sky Tower. A quick trip up the side in a glass-sided elevator and we were some 300m from the ground. In addition to the large windows, Sky Tower several very interesting features: glass floor panels. Yes, you stand on a pice of glass 38mm thick and can look down on the street below. Talk about sweaty palms. I had to force myself to walk on them in the first place. Then I had to take the photo of my feet showing the scene. I felt very nervous placing my faith in the signs that assured me that these glass plates were as strong as the neighbouring concrete floors. I did a few times to assure myself that I was in control of my ertigo - but I couldn't shake the nagging doubt that although the glass was tough, what about the supporting mechanism that held the glass in place? Inma bottled the glass walk (she later confessed) but had overcome her vertigo by the time we reached the next level (some 30m higher). The views we the same, but here to glass panels we angled out inviting one to lean on them. Very scary, especially when Inma remarked that if the glass broke you would probably miss the top of the floor below and instead surh all the way down to the street. Not helpful. But we got our photos.

Next on the agenda was the War Museum which Inma had already visited so I caught the bus and had to walk a fair ways to find it. To be fair, once I had found it, the place was worth the effort to get there. The floor was devoted to Polynesian culture, not just Maori which was refreshing. The other floors covered the New Zealand flora, fauna and local history. Finally, the top floor gave record to the events of World War 2 and the parts that New Zealand played in it. Informative."

New Zealand Travels (March 17th, 2003) Bone Carving

"After an uneventful eveing where I playing the guitar for a bit, I woke to find myself all alone in my dormitory. I got myself up and sorted then I met with Inma who was looking for something to do while she waited for the Magic Bus to take her to Aukland. I suggested that she came along to the bone carving place opposte the ferry crossing and she agreed, bringing her friend Kate along as well. We all trooped off to the bone place and soon we were all in the process of cutting out various shapes. The recipe for bone carving is as follows:-

1) Take leg bone of a cow and scoop out the marrow
2) Boil the bone in salty water for 2 hours
3) Cut the bone into strips with a band saw
4) Flatten the edges with a grindstone
5) Use a coarse Dremmel router to carve out the basic template (Drum grinder)
6) use a fine point Dremmel router to get the detail
7) Keep working the template until it is nearly done (stay outside the lines)
8) Use the Dremmel to chamfer the edges and create 3D points from the template
9) Next, use coase sandpaper to clean up any minor blemishes. Thin strips may be needed.
10) Use wet fine sandpaper to get the final surface
11) Polish with a soft cloth and attach the string

It took me 2 and a half hours to create a bone replica of my necklace that I bouth on the West Highland Way. As I was doing it, I recalled my childhood when I would carve out bits from my model battleships using my Lego motor. I used to take great pride in creating little shapes on the ships, but it never occurred to me to consider sculpture. I wonder if I should take up bone carving as a hobby? I did enjoy doing it, even through it hurt the tendons in my hand from gripping the Dremmel so tightly. However, I now have a gift for someone really special.

The afternoon was spent in a bus on the way to Aukland and I had the chance to start learning Spanish off Inma. She's a very clever person who has done some pretty interesting things in her life. She speaks English, Spanish, Catalan and some Italian making her conversant with just about any European. She's also very good looking and a bright bubble personality. As usual, I felt a bit inadequate around her. Come to think of it, I feel generally inadequate compared to a lot of people I'm travelling with. A lot of this is due to not having travelled much myself, and not knowing a second language. So it is apparent to me that I must commit myself to travelling more and learning other languages. (My French is so awful that it can't be counted) Simply accepting myself as I am is not an option because it does not require growth or effort on my behalf - thus it is a poor path.

So we arrived in Aukland, a city like any other in the world and as such not particularly liked by me. Wellington and Christchurch seemed to have more going for them whereas Aukland is just a mess of standard shops without any real character. Dominating the skyline is the Sky Tower, which apart from the War Museum and the marina, is the only sight of interest in the city. Since it was late (and St.Patricks Day) I ended up drinking vast quantities of beer (mainly Guiness) before heading back home to my hostel."

New Zealand Travels (March 16th, 2003)

"A fairly lazy morning just sitting about waiting for the sea kayaking to start. I watched the Wedding Singer and then headed off to catch the ferry. Onice I got to the other side a minivan picked me up and took me to Cooks Cove on Mercury Bay where the kayaks were waiting. I joined a bunch of Japanese language students and together we were instructed in the art of kayaking by Nathan, Micheal and RT. These guys had their patter well sorted and we were looked after really well.

After I had got the hang of paddling myself and Rako (my Japanese co-paddler) found ourselves moving swiftly and reasonable confidently across the ocean waves. The weather was perfect, sea conditions were spot on and the scenery was amazing. We headed down the coast towars Whitianga from Cooks Bay. On the way we crossed a marine reserve and surfed some nice long waves. Finally, after a bit of messing about on the river, we beach and the guides brewed up a large variety of hot drinks with endless cookies to keep us warm. All in all a good day out.

So I made it back to the hostel and chatted to the crowd I met at the pub the previous night. Inma was there and I had a great time yakking away about this and that. There was one observation I made about myself: I tried to boost my ego by sterring the conversation towards topics that made me look good. This is something I need to avoid. Instead, it is better to get other to talk, and for me to listen far more carefully. I tend to listen for certain key phrases and then try to make a witty or insightful comment. This does little to help a conversation - it only serves to reinforce my own belief in being intelligent and knowledgeable thus strengthening my ego, not reducing it."

New Zealand Travels (March 15th, 2003)

"An early bus took me to Whitianga (pronounced fit-i-ang-a), the principal tourist base on the Coromandel Peninsula. On the way we passed through Coromandel which is a bit of a one-horse town. We climbed the hill range and I was able to make out the Sleeping Giant on the skyline - so I am protected on my travels through the area.

I met a womain called Gail on the bus who was supposed to be cycling around NZ. The problem was that the hills were so steep and she was carrying a lot of unnecessary baggage. So she was taking the bus. We got chatting and arranged to meet to explore Whitianga. I stayed at the Cats Pyjamas Hostel. A lovely couple (Wendy and Buster) run the place and give it a very cosy feel. It's a bit basic but it had everything that I needed. Most especially company.

Gail and I met up and crossed the bay on the ever-present ferry. From there we ascended Shakespeare's Lookout and explored Lonely Beach (which had a few Kiwi Experience people on it). After we had strolled back we had a drink which gave me the opportunity to sample a New Zealand drink - Southern Comfort with L & P (very tasty). We decided that we'd have a fancy restaurant meal since we were both fed up with cooking, and it gave us the opportunity to sample the famous Coromandel mussels. Afterwards we met up with some others from the hostel at a nearby sports bar and had a good night. Oh yes, and I nearly ended up in a fight.

The fight that wasn't came about as a result of this Scottish guy (resident) plonking himself down between Hilda (Irish girl) and me. After a moments converstion he realised that he wasn't impressing Hilda and turned on me. "Those are crap sandals. You must be a bit of a wanker"
"I'm not getting into this."
"So you're a soft wanker then?"
"Just forget it - I'm not interested."
Eventually he fucked off, leaving me angry and in a certain amount of turmoil regarding my handling of the situation. On the one hand I didn't lose the plot, but then that could be viewed as the cowards way out. On the other hand, all that was going through my head was the scene from "Once Were Warriors" where the guy gets beaten up in short order because he "hadn't spent enough time on his speed work". I so wanted to wipe that smug smirk off that fat fucks face by kicking his chair from under him and inflicting pain until he apologised for interrupting my evening. More likely I would have jumped up, he would have decked me and I would have left with a nose pissing blood and everyone thinking I was a total tit. So I made the right choice, but it has reinforced my resolve to learn a martial art."

New Zealand Travels (March 12th, 2003)

"Up with the last lark in the aviary who decided to sleep in due to a heavy night the night before. Roughly translated, I was a lazy arsed bastard who didn't surface until 10am. I mooched off to an Internet Cafe to sort out my emails and upload my piccies. Once I'd done that I sorted out my gear, packed some lunch and got on the bus. However, I had left something behind.
On the bus I got chatting to Katie who was coming to the end of her big trip - she had about a month to go before heading back to the UK, in Brighton. I mainly sat and listened attentively as she described her travels down through Asia (home of bribery and corruption) and on to Australia. Here are some top tips:-
1) Make sure you are stamped out of a country and into the next one - especially on border crossings over bridges
2) If asked to pay a fine take the officials badge number and stand your ground
3) Carry hard currency (USD) about 500 bucks is enough
4) Avoid cheap tickets on ferries - get a cabin
5) Be very patient as disorgansiation rules

After settling in Mount Mauganui I decided that 30 days was not enough time to fully get to apreciate New Zealand. So I phoned up the airport and rearranged my ticket for 14 days laters. At no charge. Bloody excellent! (Well only a token NZD10 for admin)
Now astute readers may have noticed a reference to a certain missing item. Yes, I did it again. I obviously did not learn my lesson the first time and so had to learn it again. I left my glasses behind in the KiwiPacker YHA in Rotorua. Memories of French airports came flooding back. How stupid did I feel? Damn stupid. I tried phoning the YHA a couple of times in the hope that maybe someone would have handed them in, but no. Gone forever. The best of glasses I'd ever had were lost. Still, looking on the bright side, the quiz game that night was good fun. We came third, but beat the other Magic Bus lot - 3 cheers for the Freddy Mercury Fan Club (it's a kind of Magic - geddit?)"

New Zealand Travels (March 11th, 2003) Hangi

"Not much to do in Rotorua when the rain is coming down in stair rods. A quick trip to the supermarket for apples, kiwi fruits, cheese and salami. Good travelling food - it keeps well in the daysack and provides all the necessary bits the body needs. I'm hoping that I may lose some weight on this trip so I'm trying to stick to low fat, low carbohydrate food. The problem occurs with bread - I can't seem to find a way to remove bread from my diet. You see, in my understanding, bread contains lots of carbs, which is ideal if you're out and about burning up fuel through slow release - eg walking with a light rucksack for a few miles. If you are just sitting on a bus then all those carbohydrates are getting converted to fat which does nothing to improve the figure (ooh, he's so vain).
Anyway, sorted out the groceries and then went off to the Agrodome which is basically a few disjointed huts spread out over a large area of farmland. They hold various events and performances there, but are quite limited in the rain. Myself and a chap called Paul (who has heard of Dicky since he used to work for the SRA) went off to the show to get a feel for the sheep farming industry. Sure enough we were able to spend some time with the sheep, and were given a demonstration of sheep shearing, cow milking and dog handling. All good fun, and only NZ$16 apiece.
That evening I had a long soak in the geothermal pool (event hot in the rain) until I had to dash back inside to get changed for the trip to Tamaki village. A quick trip on a bus and our crowd were standing oustaide a formidable fortified Maori village. The bravest warrior performed a haka and our peace offering was accepted. We all trooped in (with the rain still coming down) and were treated to a culteral display of music, song and weapons displays. Then it was time for the taditional Maori feast: the Hangi. Food that had been cooking for the past 6 hours in various earth ovens was dug up, unwrapped and presented in the food hall. I was sitting opposite two newly weds and had a fine old time chatting about this and that. The meal was delicious and I would have gone up for more, but I ate too slowly and they were clearing plates by the time I was finishing. So I wandered outside for the informative talk about the preparation of the earth oven. After browsing through of the touristy shops, I settled on a wood carving place. The man in chage was a proper Maori wood carver and took the time to explain some of the meaning behind the fcial tattoos (moko) and their associated wood face masks. Without going into details here it has left me with a desire to learn much more about the Maori culture."

New Zealand Travels (March 10th, 2003 Day of the Jump)

"Woke up way before the alarm with a pang of Fear. This was the moment and a quick peek outside revealed a beautiful clear dawn sky. There was no going back now as far as I was concerned. I got my kit together, checked out, jumped aboard the Taupo Tandem shuttle bus and arrived shortly after at the aerodrome.

Waiting for the shuttle bus gave me ample time to reflect upon the Fear. What, exactly, was I afraid of? Hitting the ground at 200kph was the first answer. That was quickly dismissed by the impeccable safety record of the sport, and my trust in their professionalism. Freezing up at the moment of truth? Nope - the expert I was attached to would see to that. Throwing myself out of a place in the first lace? Bingo. The simple notion of doing something so bizarre as throwing myself out of a perfectly good aeroplane was the basis of my Fear. Once I had realised how silly this Fear was it evaporated. I swear that at no time up until the final seconds did I feel Fear. So let me talk you through it.

We were checked in (I was going up with 2 others also from the Magic Bus) and our names were called almost immediately given that we were carried over from the day before. We removed all loose items from our pockets and climed into our, appropriately named, jumpsuits. A life belt was clipped on and the harness attached. Next came the hat, goggles and gloves. I elected to keep my glasses on for maximum visual acuity. I met Matt, my tandem instructor and about 10 minutes later we were off the ground.

I was to go second so that gave me time to watch what the first guy did and hopefully learn what to do. Matt gave me constant support and advice throughout which help me no end. The only symptom of Fear was a dry mouth and nothing else. No panic-stricken, heart-pounding, sweaty-palmed gasps of breath for me. I was in complete control of my Fear. I still felt anxious but only because I was going into the unknown. I had total trust in my guides and I knew that there would be no problems. It was all down to me to get the most out of the experience. The time came.

I wriggled forward and sat on the edge looked down at Taupo from 12000 feet. It was very far away, 4km in fact. Matt had me pose for the exit camera and then I had to hold my head back to avoid whiplash. That meant I couldn't look down so I peeped down anyway, Matt corrected me. I tried to tell him, "I'm completely in your hands now." and then we left the plane.

Everything whirled around me. I didn't know up from down or left from right. I didn't feel my stomach drop away - it stayed right with me the whole time. I was falling through the air at 200kph and it felt fantastic. I had booked a video (thank God I did that!) and the woman operating the camera was floating right in fornt of me. All I could do was hold my fingers up in a victory salute, smile a lot and stick my tongue out (Sky Dog). We shook hand and cruised around on a pillow of warm air. And then Matt pulled the rip cord and we slowed down.

It wasn't a violent shock, just a cessation of the roaring wind to a complete tranquil silence. Matt and I chatted - admiring the view and generally feeling good about ourselves. We did a couple of spins and then it was time to land. I was told to life my legs up and left him do all the work. So I did and it was only at the last possible moment when insanity took over at the sight of the land pad coming up. I forgot all about Matt and attempted to do the landing myself. The net result was two sky divers (for I had passed through to the other side) lying face down in the gravel. I stuck my thumb up and smiled at the camera. We were both fine.

After that it was back to the hut for our videos (which were ready in double quick time) and to rejoin the waiting room full of beans and extolling the joys of sky diving. What a fantastic way to get rid of a hangover and to the start the day. I suppose the trick now is to sky dive every few months to keep the Fear firmly under control.

The Magic Bus left for Rotorua at 10am and we rolled in about 2 hours later. That included a couple of stops for taking snaps of Lake Taupo, the Huka falls and a geothermal mud pool. On the way I chatted to Simone who was taking some time out before returning to graduate college to study polical economics. The bus was not going to overnight in Rotorua and was instead going on to Mt.Maunganui (the surf capital of NZ). However, my plans were to stay 2 nights in Rotorua so that I could see the volcanic landscapes, Maori cultural scene and, perhaps, mess about within the Agrodome Theme Park.

So Dangerous Dean dropped me off at the thermal village along with my pack and I set about exploring the world of fire and brimstone. It was pretty amazing, with few visible access restrictions out among the mud pools, geysers and assorted fumeroles. The smell of sulphur was understandably quite prevalent, but ny no means overpowering. All in all, it took me about 3 hours to cover the site in a fair amount of details. There was even the opportunity to see some of the performing arts of the Maoris in the form of a song and haka routine in one of their sacred temples. Out of respect for their culture is was necessary to remove shoes prior to entering the temple. Inside there were many carved statues and wall decorations decpecting monsters and heroes from times past. It is often said that the depth a civilisation is measured by the quality it's art. The Maoris have a rich a varied culture that contains an abundance of deep philosophical and community oriented thinking. I came away with a desire to learn more.

A quick bite to eat and it was time to leave. The only problem was that the last bus had left, the shuttles weren't running and I needed some exercise. So I walked the 5km between the thermal village and the YHA. I did overshoot and randomly enetered a local garage to get directions. There was a customer there, a scientist specialising in paper, and he offered me a life back to the YHA. So all in all a good day today."

New Zealand Travels (March 12th, 2003)

"Up with the lark and on the Magic Bus for 8am. This time it was a oong haul to Taupo, with a couple of brief stops on the way. Dangerous Dean (and son Ryan) was our driver and it wasn't long before had left Wellington far behind and were heading into some of the best scenery the North Island had to offer. We wound our way slowly up a mountain pass, the view from which was sadly reduced by the cloud descending as mist. This also gave me cause for concern because I had booked myself onto a sky diving experience. Why? Becauuse it scared me. A long time ago I had the opportunity of booking a parachute jump and I bottled it by convincing myself that it wasn't necessary and I could still grow as a person. Inside I knew differently and this started a conflict within me. My spirit was urging me to go for it, my ego was aying "No, too scary - er, um, not necessary and bit weird wanted to do this unnatural thing." After al these spiritual growth books I had read (as well as the well-meaning advice I spewed to "solve" other peoples problems) there was no longer an excuse. It had to be done. In addition, after I had finished the West Highland Way I made a promise to myself that I would no longer be a slave to Fear. That is not say that I would become without Fear, for that is foolhardy. In contrast, I resolved to become courageous and face Fear, experience it and overcome it. This has become a series of exercises in emotional intelligence - the the transcendent ego to experience emotions appropriately. So I signed up and waited to arrive in Taupo to face my (ultimate so far) Fear.

Before that we stopped off in Napier which was flattened by an earthquake in the 1930s and as a result of the rebuild contains some of the worlds best Art Deco architecture. While I was impressed with a lot of it, I am glad that I chose to stay over in Taupo because there is a not a lot to do in Napier. During lunch I chatted to Heidi, a Dutch woman who had taken 10 weeks annual leave from nursing to go on a WWOOF adventure. This involved staying at various farms that practice organic cultivation methods and helping out with the work. In return she received food and lodgings and, of course, useful experience.

A little while later and we arrived in Taupo. Internationally recognised as the cheapest and best place to learn to sky dive. Taupo has a lot of skydiving schools centered on the little aeordrome by Lake Taupo. Interestingly, the neary volcano (now extinct) formed the basis for Mount Doon in Lord of the Rings.

All through the journey I had been getting brief flashes of fear, anxiety and alarm coupled with excitement and disappointment. The disappointment came from the frequent squalls of rain and general bad weather rolling in - the excitement came every time the sun came out. It was as if God was playing games with me. Teasing me with the possibility of going through a whole night of anticipation...

And Lo! it did come to pass,
That Gary spent the night on the grass,
For the Almighty made it known,
That Gary should should bemoan,
So the rain came down like a cow pissing on a flat stone.

I went to the pub. And got wasted at Mulligans and the Holy Cow. So trolleyed was I that neither myself nor Rachel (beautiful English girl I met) could find the way home. It took us about an hour to walk the 400 metres back to the hostel. Mainly 'cos we kept walking in the wrong direction."

New Zealand Travels (2003-03-12)

Up before the crack of sparrows and off to see the dolphins. I didn't hold out much hope of actually seeing one since Dusky dolphins are somewhat unpredictable. After a bit of faffing myself and Beth were in a boat dressed in bouyant websuits sporting grooving flippers and a mask snorkel kit. All very cumbersome and boy was it cold. Thank God for all those freezing showers after saunas. Anyway, we zoomed over the waves scouting for dolphins and saw the odd one or two about. (Feelings that this might be successful started to grow - not another Scotland cock-up). And then we hit paydirt: a small group of 10 dolphins were messing about a little way off our port side. Quickly we were ushered into the water with instructions to splash about and hum tunes to attract their interest. I won't even attempt to describe the noise, but suffice to say the dolphins decided to stay (our of morbid fasciantion perhaps?) And then it happened: a dolphine came right past me less than two feet away. I nearly jump out of my skin. You see, the water we were in was rather murky due to a recent storm so visiblility was down to about 10 feet. These dolphins were completely in their elements, and we were totally out of ours. They glided by effortlessly, coming in so close that you could just about touch them and then elegantly flicking away into the glooom. These dolphins stayed with us for half and hour and the memories will live within me forever. The moment where I was tightly circling with one dolphin (who seemed to take a shine to me) singing "Yellow Submarine" with the dolophine nodding it's head in time to the music ws amazing.

We all got back to the boat feeling very humbled, excited and with a deep respect for al things natural. And bloody 'ell were we cold. Fortunately, a hot shower was on board and copious ginger biscuits washed down with hot chocolate warmed us up pronto. After that we had the opportunity to pull up alongside a large pod of dolphins so that we could take some photos. I'm just glad that I brought the digital camera along 'cos I took loads.

A bit more faffing and we were back on the bus and heading North to Picton so that we could get the ferry across the Cook Strait which seperates the two islands. By this time I had still not contacted Julian (my old school mate who I'd not seen in 15 years who lived in Wellington) and I was planning a surprise visit to his office. However, I managed to locate his company in the ferry phone book and had a chat. He was bit surprised to hear from me to say the least. It turned out that the Super 12 rugby was on that night (NZ Hurricanes vs SA Stormers) and there was a spare season ticket available. Result!

So it was that Julian, a friend I had not seen for 15 years, met me at the ferry terminal with less than a half hours notice. He took me to the YHA, hung around while I cleaned myself up (still covered in sea water you see) and took me to see the game. I was sitting with his sister-in-law Janelle with a great view of the game (SA were in black and NZ played in yellow which was confusing). We chatted, chaeered and commented as the game progressed until the final whistle blew with NZ winning the match. A vital visctory and cause for great celebration. We went to a noisy bar for dinner and I had a very tasty steak. Julians wife, Sharon, was 6 months pregnant at the time and they still don't know the baby's sex. Appparently it has not revelaed itself to the cameras eye. So it looks like the nursery walls will be green.

After the meal, Julian and I went off to a pool hall and shot a few games. And then it was time for bed. In fairness Julian has grown up from the boy I used to know into a well-rounded man. He's married to a good Kiwi woman, has good friends and lives well. He's doing well at this job and he enjoys the work. All in all he's very happy that he made the move to leave England."

New Zealand Travels (2003-03-12)

"Woke up in plenty of time for my first trip on a Magic Bus. I chatted to some girls who were on a planet trip - they had just completed a journey through Vietname and Cambodia. I was most impressed since the Asian culture one that I have very little knowledge of. One interesting point that they made concerned the Vietnam traffic. Apparently cars rule the roads, while bikes and mopeds rule the pavements. This only leaves the middle of the road for pedestrians! So, if one wishes to cross the road in Vietname one has to just walk out in front of the endless stream of cars. And then they stop. Massice culture shock for these two English girls, especially when they found themselves stepping out in front of cars and walking down the middle of the roads in New Zealand.

So I organised my trip on the Magic Bus which just involved chatting to Dennis the Driver and him going "She's all right. Hop on, mate." We cruised along the road to Kaikoura and I became engrossed in my book (looking up every 2 minutes to admire the beautiful scenery). I became aware of the existence of both the observing ego and the transcendent ego. The observing ego is concerned with ones sense of self being aware of the emotions currently experienced. The transcendent ego is concerned with the control of these emotions. A good analogy is that of a conductore directing an orchestra of competing instruments. If the conductor is gifted then a harmonious interepetation of the music is brought forth, with appopriate and necessary instruments creating the mood. One step along the path is to develop a strong transcendent ego - or emotional intelligence.

About halfway through the trip to Kaikoura the bus threw two fan belts causing us to stop by the roadside. I ended up having a deep conversation with a woman called Beth who made the observation that I have a strong imbalance between my right brain and left brain. I have spent the majority of my adult life cultivating left brain through patterns - logic, analysis, organisational thinking. For me to become balanced I need to spend time on my emotions, intuition, creativity and overall spontaneous thinking. Without exploring this part of me, I will never become whole. I will forever be locked into acquiring various rules for handling situations that Life throws my way. To this end I have resolved to find out more about myself through many means: learning a new language, drawing, paiting, meditating on mandalas, learning about chakras. The list has only begun. :)

So, what happened after we got to Kaikoura? After soring out our accommodation (Dusky Lodge) Beth and I walked into town to organise our events. In my case this was a fishing trip, and then swimming with dolphins early the next day. After that it ws a short stroll to the beach for a bit of sunbathing, juggling and, in my case, yoga.

The fishing trip was great fun. Jason, our guide, had us eating crayfish (boiled, chargrilled and raw), mussels (huge) and the very expensive New Zealand delicacy paua (pronounced pow-ah) which is a sort of mussel cum barnacle cum sea-slug thing. I cannot adequatly describe the taste of paua - the best I can come with at short notice is a fish flavoured Wispa bar. The trip ended with a presentation of a paua shell - beautifully iridescent.

After I got back to the lodge, I went straight to bed since I was going swimming with dolphins and had to be up for 0500. Oh yes - Oh my God it's early."

New Zealand Travels (2003-03-08)

"After the flight I caught the shuttle bus to the domestic terminal, flew out from Aukland to Christchurch ( meeting a local university professor on the way) and phoned for my to the Christchurch YHA. All very smooth. I arranged my rrom, moved in and sorted myself out. Flying for that length of time is very taxing and I felt very jet lagged. Not enough to required immeidate sleep, just enough to give everything a sense of unreality.

So what was my first impressoin of New Zealnd as expressed through Christchurch? Very positive. The city is clean, the air is not noticeably polluted (unlike London) and there is very little traffic in the centre. It reminded of Stratford-on-Avon in places and colonial Williamsburg in others. Of far greater note is the attitude of the New Zealand people. There seemed to be very few old and infirm people, everyone seemed young and out to enjoy life - regardless of their outward appeared of age. The Kiwi people I have met so far have been kind, thoughtful and courteous. Costs are reasonable too with NZ$17 getting a beer and very tasty fish and chips (large portion served Mad Megs style with newspaper) from an outside terrace bar in the hear of the city next to the cathedral. Way less expensive than a Little Chef on a grotty motorway back in grimy England. Even at this early stage I am included to feel that New Zealand is what Britain should aspire to become."

New Zealand Travels (2003-03-08)

Starting to upload some (edited) excerpts from my paper journal.

"It was a grey overcast day in London. Nick and Kathy had agreed to accompnay me to the airport where I was to take flight NZ001 to New Zealand. Why New Zealand? About 10 years ago I had seriously entereatined the idea of emigrating and New Zealand had felt to be the right place for me. Due to my job at the time coming to an end (I had been offered higher pay at another company) I failed to take the 30 days holiday that I had built up over the previous year to allow me to go to NZ. It never seemed to occur to me that I could chuck the job in and leave for NZ on a round the world ticket. This was truly hammered home by virtue of the fact that a work colleague had just bought his ticket and was leaving. I support I was afraid because I had responsibilities (which cannot be written without including the word "ties") to my house (mortgage) and my parents (be successful). So I stayed; got a job that paid more; took on a larger mortgage; better car; got a job that paid more; took on a larger mortgage and so on until it was time for me to halt the process. I saved up enought money so that I could live for 6 months without working or selling the house and decided to leave the rat race in which I had become enmired.

I have not gone to NZ to find myself, I have gone there to explore who I am. I believe that a persons identity, their self, is defined as the sum of their beliefs and their values. Each of these can be changed by an act of will by the person involved. It is entirely up to the indicvidual to decide upon their beliefs and their values. By going to NZ I hope to adjust these beliefs and values into something more in line with my long term goals in life. I may talk more of these in the future."

New Zealand Travels (2003-03-05)

Have finally arrived in NZ. Let me talk you through the whole process...

Took the plane to LA - 10 hours
Stayed in LA for 2 hours waiting for plane to be refuelled etc
Took the plane to Aukland - 12 hours
Stayed in Aukland for 3 hours waiting for plane to Christchurch
Took the plane to Christchurch - 2 hours
Picked up by a shuttle bus to be delivered to the youth hostel.

Took me a while but it's all done now. I finally got the chance to explore Christchurch from about 1pm onwards and I have to say that it's a lovely city. Everything is really clean, and the air is so fresh. It's really strange to be in a city and find it almost as good as being in the country back in the UK.

The whole place has a sort of American or South African feel to it since the city was based on the grid iron system. It can get a bit confusing since there are few visual landmarks to navigate by which is how I'm used to getting about in the UK. Instead, particular attention has to be paid to the road names and the junction you're on.

Anyway, the place is lovely, the air is fresh and the people are so friendly. All the Kiwis I have me so far have been outstanding in their approach to people - even down to the bods down at the local supermarket.

More to come later...

New Zealand Travels (2003-02-26)

Just sorting out the final arrangements for my New Zealand trip. Bought a new rucksack (big 88 litre) which should hold enough stuff for a month away. I've booked myself onto the Magic Bus (www.magicbus.co.nz) which allows me unlimited travel around NZ along with accommodation in the various Youth Hostels along the way. I looked into various options (camper van, Travelpass etc) but this one is by far the cheapest for someone travelling on their own, and means I'll be travelling with other backpackers so it should be more fun.

My trip has extended itself now to include the North island so it's going to be packed, but worth it. With luck I should be able to include all the major sights, and still have time enough to walk through the countryside.

As far as an itinerary is concerned, I have no idea. I'm just going to turn up and take it as it comes. I'm not going to kill myself trying to see everything that an entire country has to offer in a month. Instead, I'll choose a few of the best bits using local people to guide me.

So I have my air ticket, Magic Bus ticket, passport and credit card. All that remains now is to finish packing the rucksack, visit my mum and some friends and then jump on a plane for 2 days.