05-06 transition redux: a year of frustration, disillusionment, and blissful resignation culminates in a few scribbled ultimatums under the influence of several hundred miligrams of caffeine. A few hours later, an Air Force Officer accompanies me on a desperate quest to end the year with a "bang", crossing a few lines in the journey. Soundtrack is Mogwai's "Summer", Ten Rapid version...
Had the auspicious honor of crossing paths with Jo Condon, a high school math teacher from England on hiatus with the simple ambition of cycling round the world solo-style, strikingly similar to the legendary exploits of the almighty ZenMaster Mark. Philanthropists of the world, quit throwing your money down the Unicef drain: send a suitcase full of quid Jo's way to keep her dream (which is our dream) alive...
Windy steep roads to the sunburnt Banks Peninsula, smelling of salt and suncscreen. A brief bush walk to warm up; met the Quintessential Kiwi en route: happily grizzled and cutting the grass in gumboots. Rule 1: don't burn the gorse, it will win. Rule 2: no billy boiling (will find out what that means later...)
Brief pit stop in Kiakoura, formerly the most beatiful place in the world. Two months later it is choked with campervans while the snow-capped peaks have dried out. Alors, on we roll to...
Blenheim, shitjob capital of New Zealand. Overheard at hostel: "How much beer do you have?" "About 10." "Dude, that is no way near enough". Young travelers congregate to bitch about the lack of diversions and drink themselves in a stupor, trying to forget how tedious vineyard work is. The next time you try to act high on the hog by throwing down a fifty for a bottle of wine, please take a moment to thank those bitter young men without whom it would not be possible.
Completed the Sikes-Wolongevicz circuit in Nelson Lakes National Park in two days, battling the elements, the sandflies, and our own perceived limitations. The mountain didn't want us up there, so it threw some 100 k/hr winds at us. At least it helped us dry our boots momentarily before wading through a dozen more creeks. Celebrated our "victory" by watching James Bond films in a mediocre lodge in the company of greasy sacks of fish and chips, washed down with cheap Australian rotgut.
"Did" Abel Tasman track, or at least 10 miles of it in sandals with no water at a blistering pace...with only 11 days of the blitz to go, every second must count! Hooah!
Rolled into Takaka, since those in the know (or at least young Hazard) say Golden Bay is where it's at. They are absolutely right if "it" refers to Vegan Hemp Sandals and Fair Trade Organic Free Range Herbal Teas. Made me homesick for Oregon. I was wondering where all the feral ecohipsters were in this country, and now I know! This town is ripe for some bike-powered Guerrilla concerts to support vegetarian causes like sweatshop free mandala weaving. In short, I have a new favorite NZ town. Will they take me in? As A. Huxley said in Eyeless in Gaza (a must read, by the way), "[He is] a middle class snob tolerated because of his capacities as an entertainer".
Dangerously close to the West Coast. Time to load up on ammo, whiskey, muckboots, and frozen peas.
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