Kaikoura, New Zealand

After a final night of Sprig and Fern beer and BS in Nelson it was high time to check out the wilderness that this nation is famous for. A long, tortuous drive to the Mount Arthur region led to a soggy slog that will hopefully be better several months from now. In fact, a small crew of DOC rangers were working on digging drainage trenches next to the track, the only other souls on my overnight trek. My timing was fortuitous as I aided in the extraction of the trenching device from a little accident on a steep slope, requiring grunting, sweating, and the questionable use of gasoline in combustible places. I instantly became enamored by the legendary DOC hut system after a storm rolled through in the night, which was charming in a shelter but likely unbearable in a tent. Incidentally, the Fanella hut had a few issues of the Economist lying about, shockingly highbrow for a shack in the bush.

Sunnier weather awaited me in the absolutely gorgeous seaside village of Kaikoura, where one could possibly ski in the morning and swim with dolphins in the afternoon. Whilst climbing Mt Fyffe I happened upon the University of Canterbury Extreme Ironing Team, whose primary objective is to photograph themselves ironing in bizarre locales and positions. Obviously intrigued, I tagged along for the rest of the day, gaining insight into a gaining international phenomenon, right up there with Kambucha brewing and eco tourism. When you get tired of Kayaking and diving and feral goat hunting expeditions (at a mere $225 pp), you can always slip into the Strawberry Tree pub and have a pint of their Sheep Shagger Lager and see outstanding live acts like Urban Tramper.

Labour Day weekend over, it's on to Christchurch to seek labor of my own.

Nelson, New Zealand

Sitting in the "Sunniest City in the Country", where it has rained constantly for the past week. At the Green Monkey hostel, you will almost always find a dozen or so twentysomething weary world travelers sitting around pretending to read books they have no interest in, feasting on Ramen noodles and potatoes, and discussing the merits of the metric system. One such chap spends most of his days pruning trees in trhe soaking rain at $0.80 a pop. He stumbles in after work looking as if he'd been in a fight, but at least he made enough dough to pay for that week's beer fund. Two young Swedes have been here for 8 months and have seen/done enough to get their fill of the southern hemisphere for a lifetime or two. Realizing I wasn't one of those crazy Bible-thumping Americans, they deemed it safe to accompany me on an evening on cross-cultural debauchery, to include painfully public renditions of "November Rain". Needless to say they knew much more about American politics than I ever will.

The weather broke just in time to permit the Scandanavian duo and I to take my recently acquired Holden Vectra for a drive up to Abel Tasman National Park, which may be small but always packed with folks looking for hikes with a high satisfaction to effort ratio. Very impressed with the DOC's commitment to make life as cosy as possible for would-be adventurers. Sights being seen, it was back to the hostel for card playing, Facebooking, and passing of more time in self-imposed communal poverty.

Picton, New Zealand

While walking down Tory Street in Wellington contemplating the inexorable decline of the dollar and how it affects my fun factor I literally bumped into one of my heroes. The great David Kolbos was in town in the midst of his North Island hitchhiking tour. David will likely go down as one the great Permaculture Warriors of our time, having studied from the masters in New Mexico, Central America and New Zealand. Full of energetic inspiration, it is only a matter of time before he leaves his mark on the world (or perhaps closing the wounds opened by our forefathers). At a table creaking under the weight of wine bottles we solved most of the world's problems and even a few of our own. Good luck David, and Godspeed!

Even more fortuitously, the very next day on the Cook Strait ferry crossing I bumped into sustainability celebrities Sean and Louisa from Arizona. Seems as though they are on a similar mission as myself, but are a good six months ahead (they opted for the year of eternal winter, while I went with eternal summer).

Now in the one-horse seaside town of Picton. Happened to crash an acoustic jam session at an Irish joint down by the harbour. By the height of the festivities about ten folks were circled about playing all sorts of tunes, including the legendary Irish ballad "Sweet Home Alabama". Struck up a conversation with a gent who is on a motorcross crew whose van broke down and are effectively marooned for the time being. This certainly ain't a bad place to be stuck. Side note: if you happen to be passing through, stay at the Tombstone Backpackers...far and away the best facilities of any hostel you'll ever stay in.

Auckland, NZ

"Where I live in the Carribean we don't have a town drunk...everyone takes their turn!" the old sot exclaimed right before he spilled his beer all over the airport bar, shattering his glass in the process. "I swear to God I've never done that before...nobody will believe me!" The bartender replied "Nobody would believe you if you said you broke three glasses a night."

"I've lived in hostels since I moved here from Germany 15 months ago for my software development job. It's not very economical, but I absolutely hate searching for flats. Besides, I have new roommates every day."

The Auckland museum had a touching display in remembrance of all the Kiwis who valiantly gave their lives in the struggle to keep South Africa British.

Realizing that the economics of purchasing a car here were highly unfavorable (every bum on Earth descended upon Auckland to buy a cheap beater; hence the beaters are not so cheap) I decided to spent a day tramping about the tiny volcanic island of Rangitoto with a Chicago couple on a highly structured two month holiday. One eye was on the scenery, the other three were on the clock to ensure not a second was wasted. A decent diversion from the metropolis. Reminded me of the guy from Easy Rider who correctly observed that all cities are the same...some just happen to be wetter than others. Celebrated the outing with some heavy-duty Pirate Lager and canned bourbon and cola. I still have yet to see the appeal of Marmite, which tastes like sardine pudding.

For some indoor entertainment I strolled down to the Dogs Bollix to witness The Defendants play some of the best no BS hard rock since the mighty Atlanta quintet Artimus Pyledriver changed their name to something less creepy. An absolutely slaying cover of "Fairies Wear Boots" and then Left or Right hit the stage for a fabulous set of hardline psychedelic dub. A lascivious lass told me that Wellington is the most beautiful place in the world (never mind that middle-aged Ping had just said the same about northern Thailand), so on the Overlander I go...leaving the campervan haggling to the Germans who are thrilled at $7/gallon petrol.