No Jet Lag?

Kia Ora!

We all bought in: Barbara, Sarah, Sue, KC and I. Traveling from New Zealand to the Central Time Zone USA is quite a long haul. Before KC and I left Timaru, I asked the three tourists who preceded us how the product worked. Consider this a tiny piece of research with an n=5.

Sarah and Sue wisely did not reply (introduces bias into research); Barbara quit the tablets as they upset her stomach. Now the n=4; the sample gets smaller.

I had read about this product to counter the inevitable jet lag. Then while browsing through a merino shop on Stafford Street in Timaru, the clerk, another customer and I chatted about travel. The other shopper swore by these tablets called No-Jet-Lag, a homeopathic preparation. I inquired at the chemist (pharmacy) and purchased a package for myself and one for KC for the sum of NZD 12.00 (USD 9.87) per package. Our American guests did the same.

The package calls this preparation "The Perfect Travel Companion." They say that it is natural and effective, with no side effects or interactions, with enough chewable tablets for 50 hours of flying (that sounds like hell!) The compound includes these homeopathic substances: arnica montana, bellis perennis, chamomilla, ipecacuanha, and lycopodium. Flyers are to chew one tablet on every take-off, every two hours in flight, and on every landing. Intervals of up to four hours are permissible if sleeping. The taste is not flavored, but not unpleasant either.

Perhaps I was not careful about those intervals or take-offs and landings. Regardless, these things didn't work for me. I am experiencing the worst case of jet lag than I can remember any time before this. This is day 11 and I am still having trouble sleeping at night. The daytime sleepiness was controllable after three days.

Final report of this small study sample, n=5: jet lag 4; no or limited jet lag 0, dropped from study 1.

Would I try this product again? Probably, I would. I quit taking the tablets when we encountered the disaster in Los Angeles. The extra stress that event caused, plus two uncovered time zones yet to go before landing in Texas may have diluted or negated the effectiveness of the homeopathic medication. 

If you would like to try this product, you can. They are available for purchase at Magellan's (www.magellans.com), a company specializing in travel products. Our catalog, which arrived in the mail yesterday, sells this product as well as Drink Ease (if you imbibe too much) and Trip Ease (for motion sickness.) The Magellan cost for No-Jet-Lag is USD 13.50, about 3.63 USD more than the NZD 12.00 I paid in New Zealand. For the cheaper price, you need to go to New Zealand, where these products are manufactured.

Cheers,
Kiwi Traveler

LOTR

find quote from the films

Kia Ora!

LOTR. Lord of the Rings. This is an attraction for many tourists to NZ. But where to go? XXXX Jackson (a native of Auckland) shot his famous trilogy all over South Island. One can take a LOTR tour in many places. The one that sounded the best to me was the all day tour by Glenorchy Air out of Queenstown. Only $755 per person. So indecisive, we didn't take any of the tours, but we did visit some of the places where scenes were shot.

I have already mentioned Weta Cave (). A visit here when in Wellington is complementary to any LOTR tour and worth the time. It is the creative workshop responsible for the wonderful special effects of the films. ADD PHOTO

One day, KC and I drove out to Lake Mavora, which appeared in the first film. The scenes that were shot here: a) Fellowship arrives at Lawn of Parth Galen on 3 greyboats given by Galadriel; b) in the last scene of the film, Frodo and Sam go across the lake to the slopes of Amon Lhaw to continue the quest alone. There is nothing at the location to suggest any movie crews had ever been here. This is an isolated area quite far off the main thoroughfares and a primitive setting for the campers who take advantage of its beauty to do come hiking and fishing. We were there on a warm sunny day and enjoyed the birds, including the black swan family not far from shore. PHOTO

We drove out to Glenorchy, another area where much filming was done. PHOTO

First Impressions of Life in Auckland

Kia Ora!

So here we are in Takapuna, a suburb of Auckland. We live on the 4th level of a large, 3-block apartment building. I liken it to being a cave dweller. Our cave has 2 bedrooms, one of which is general overflow of laundry, clothes, etc.

The kitchen is designed for a non-cooking bachelor. 
The diminutive oven defies easy operation. I spent much of the first week reading directions for the oven, the iron, the stove top, the refrigerator, and the washer-dryer combination. The dryer function turns clothes out slightly damp and totally ragbag wrinkled. No one is allowed to hang anything on the balcony so I followed the model of other cave dwellers and bought a stand alone clothes rack to air dry the wash in the open door of the bedroom. It works.

Of course there was the usual hassle getting Telecom hooked up for telephone and internet service. There is no way around the $200 penalty for discontinuing service before our one year contract expires. Boo, Telecom!

The complex is built in a semi-circle around a courtyard with a swimming pool and facing busy Anzac Street. This arrangement simulates an outdoor amphitheatre so ordinary conversation in the courtyard carries well. Our first night here was interrupted about midnight when a group of adolescent boys decided to swim in the pool, lacing their loud communications liberally with expletives. The traffic in front of the complex is heavy and continual with buses, trucks and motorcycles in addition to cars. I look with envy at the flats at the back of the building. The occupants oversee roofs of businesses and an alley but I imagine it is quieter than the front of the complex.  I wrote "I HATE this place" in my journal at least twice during the first week.

Now in the second week, I can report things are much better. The internet is up. The Olympics are starting. The boys seem to be swimming in the late afternoon now that summer holiday has ended and they are back in school. I can work all the appliances except the oven; I stir fry a lot. The weather is warm, sunny, and dry. Our warm Southland clothes are packed away until the temperatures cool as fall comes on in April.

All is well.

Cheers,

Kiwi Traveler
http://vegemite-tales.blogspot.com/

Welcome to my Neighborhood

Kia Ora!

Our home in Invercargill this year is on a portion of Bourke Street that goes between Queen's Park and the upscale Windsor shopping area. I love this location as I am independent as long as my feet stay happy. I can even walk as far as centre city from here, but who needs to? I can get most things I want in Windsor. Take a tour of Windsor with me starting at "Sally's" on the upper end.


Even upscale shoppers like to shop at "Sally's". The Salvation Army has
thrift stores throughout the city and this is the Windsor Sally.

 Instead of government owned post offices, it appears independents take on the job of "postie". At this site, we can post letters and parcels, but also buy periodicals, books, greeting cards, and stationary supplies.

Directly across the street is the ubiquitous corner dairy store which carries the things one runs out of at the last minute as well as fish and chips and  ice cream. I buy the daily Southland Times here.

We visited both churches in Windsor last year. The Anglicans are struggling with diminished attendance, but this church voted to go their own way rather than become a joint church with the "big" church in centre city. Such is the sentiment about losing the community focus. Liz, one of the priests here, is a most delightful and welcoming person.

The Presbyterians have the church one block down Windsor Street. We found the congregants a bit dour, but they are probably Scots, what can  I say? (I can say that; I have Scot ancestry and I can do dour too).There must be more to it than that as they have a good outreach and community spirit. They sponsor a little shop where all proceeds go to Save the Children. Recently they removed the old manse and created a lovely little community park in its place.

Several businesses are lovely gift shops. Woodstock on Windsor is only one of them but it is distinguished by the beautiful garden of white tree roses and tall white snapdragons in front.

 I must admit that the Windsor Wine Shop is a frequent stop for me. You may think it is just for the wine but there is an additional attraction. A lovely French man with the cutest accent and encyclopedic wine knowledge sometimes tends the store. 

Beyond the wine shop are three occasionally visited places, though you may have trouble spotting them in this photo. First, Organica where I find organic, dietetic, and specialty foods; next a food import shop with imported coffee, chocolate, and much, much more; then The Village Green, one of three restaurants in Windsor, all worthy of a meal. I buy Belgian chocolates at the import shop as a hostess gift when we are invited out to someone's home, which happens rather frequently. I asked the quite portly store owner of the shop if she had sampled her chocolates. "Well ...... yes", she replied with an amused, guilty smile. I buy the ones she recommends.

D'Coy is just one of the dress shops. It looks pretty extravagant; I have never been there.

Our good friend, Dr. Kim Nestor, has her Catherine Street Clinic in Windsor. Concerned about what to do if I should need medical care, I asked Kim if she would take me on as a patient should that be needed. "Well, we are one of the oversubscribed practices in the city, but yes, I would." I felt relieved and hoped our relationship would stay strictly social.


 Three blocks down Windsor is the New World grocery where I do most of our food shopping. Directly across the street is Ian Wallace's pharmacy. Ian has been helpful in the past accessing needed personal medication and recommending effective over the counter remedies (Rheumon topical gel) unknown to us in the US. The stores seem to have some kind of agreement on who carries what. You won't find toothbrushes in the pharmacy nor dental floss in the grocery here.

 Cheers,
Kiwi Traveler

At Home on Bourke Street

Kia Ora!

Our wee flat on Bourke Street has been an ideal location for me. The flat itself is quite adequate; it only takes an hour to clean the whole thing.


A dearth of cookware has also limited my creativity in the kitchen allowing time for other interesting things like perusing Windsor Road (1/2 block north) and trolling through Queen's Park (1/2 block south), and writing.

The neighborhood is older with quaint cottages.









Though our front garden is the size of a postage stamp, the weather-beaten rose is blossoming its heart out.

Cheers,
Kiwi Traveler

Headline: Intense Storm Lashes City

Kia Ora! The headlines say it all: "Freak Storm Wreaks Havoc in City". This was supposed to be a "fine day" and it was warm enough for a light jacket. The Kiwi Consort and I had a date for lunch at the tea house in Queens Park. Peering to the south west, dark clouds indicated I had best take my rain wear for my walk in the park before lunch. In 10 minutes, I felt the first drops. Not much. I kept walking. It got steadier and I unpacked the rain jacket and put it on. Now it was a steady serious rain. I stood under trees in the park thinking it would slow down. As I stood there, I felt safe standing under a tree in the rain as thunder and lightening quite rarely if ever occurred in Invercargill. Certainly it hadn't in my two summers here. The rain looked as if it wasn't going to let up so I splashed on deciding to go to the tea house early ... if I could find it. The park is large and I sort of know where it is but I usually flounder a bit getting oriented. Today my orientation was good. As I approached the tea house I noted people streaming to the tea house from every direction. The place was packed as we all sought shelter from the rain. After lunch, the rain had stopped and I headed for Windsor Street to purchase a newspaper at the corner convenience store. Then I heard a distant rumble. Was that thunder? A louder rumble. Indeed! I quickened my pace to get my errand done before the rain resumed. I barely made it home when the crashing was immediately overhead and the sky became very dark. This was completely unpredicted. The wind intensified. Torrents of rain slashed sideways. Then I heard the first ping, ping, ping on the metal overhang at the front door. Soon the pings were a tattoo and then a roar. Heaps of small size hail piled up in the grass, in the street, and on the walkway. Initially I thought it was a wonderful storm. I parted the lace curtains and pulled my chair up in front of the window to appreciate its awesomeness. I was one of very few enjoying this spectacle. In centre city, the hail blocked drain pipes and storm sewers. The drain pipes backed up and water spilled into attics and poured through light fixtures in many stores and businesses. The storm sewers could not handle the heavy water burden and the streets were flooded. Clerks ran around soaking up water with towels and placing buckets as well as they could. There was no happiness in centre city. There was one fatality from a lightning strike. A horse alone in its paddock on Racecourse Road about 8 blocks from our location was struck instantly dead, its blanket smoldering on its back. Soon it was over as quickly as it had appeared and all was at peace again. I will be more circumspect in the future about standing under trees in the rain, even in Invercargill.re Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

The Ranfurly Shield

Kia Ora!    The year is 1901. The Earl of Ranfurly, then Governor of New Zealand for the British Empire, announces he will present a cup to the New Zealand Rugby Football Union as a prize in the sport of their choosing. The sports group chooses to make it a rugby trophy. When the "cup" arrives, it turns out to be a shield, a shield with a decidedly soccer (football) design as a centrepiece. Not to worry; goal posts were added to the soccer goal making it a rugby image. The shield was first awarded to Auckland in 1902 as they had the best record.    This is a challenge trophy, not one earned through playoffs. To earn the shield, a team must defeat the current holder of the shield. That holder in 2009 was the Canterbury team from the mid-east coast of South Island. The holder of the shield is required to accept a minimum of seven challenges each year. All home games are considered challenges, essentially requiring the trophy holder to remain almost undefeated.    Fast forward to 22 October 2009: The Southland Stags of Invercargill defeat Canterbury and capture the trophy for the first time in 50 years. Since we weren't yet on the scene, we can only imagine Southland province's response! A front page photo showed the sweaty, grizzled Captain of the Stags, Jamie Mackintosh kissing the shield, "the province's most sought after possession". When the team's flight arrived from Christchurch, the newspaper reported that Jamie was last off the plane. "Chuffed" (chest puffed; proud) he held up the trophy as he appeared at the jet's exit to the delight of the waiting throng. The Southland Times immediately announced the limited publication of a commemorative booklet. Orders were taken and no extras were printed. A recent sales circular announced that anyone who bought a case (12 bottles) of wine at $19.99 a bottle would get a free bottle autographed by Captain Jamie Mackintosh . The shield is now on view for only a week or so at the Invercargill Museum . But we had an early private preview.    As captain of the Stags, Jamie had possession of the shield until after Christmas. The shield turned up in Christmas wrapping under the family tree, a temporary gift to his extended family. Dubbed " Jamie 's girlfriend" by the family, it was a centrepiece of the post-Christmas dinner social. Individually and in groups, everyone had their photos taken with Jamie and the shield, including the Kiwi Traveler and Consort.    The media is still crowing about this triumph; a photo of the Mackintosh extended family with the shield turned up in the Southland Times December 26 ("Shield enjoys Christmas with Mackintosh and his mates").    So how important is this trophy, I wondered. Jamie said, "It's like winning the Stanley Cup!" Pretty important then, I concluded. I felt chuffed too. Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

A Kiwi Christmas

Kia Ora! As the Kiwi Consort and I arrived in NZ (pronounced En-Zed) in early December, the drive up to Christmas was already underway. Overhead holiday decor spanned Tay Street and Dee Street, major arteries in centre city Invercargill. Holiday music echoed through the store aisles, super sales were announced weekly: "Open to Midnight! Prices slashed!" The Southland Hospice garners a fair number of donations over the holiday  season. H&J Department Store features a Christmas Remembrance Tree; hospice volunteers collect donations as shoppers hang cards commemorating a deceased loved one on the tree. Many agencies are seeking donations in store entries. Last year I sat in the cold, windy entry of The Warehouse store as a volunteer for the hospice. Southland folk are generous and strongly support their hospice. In 2008, we turned up for the annual Christmas parade, watching from the outdoor tables at the Global Byte Cafe nursing our coffees against the chill. The bands were Scots pipers and the floats imaginative. We missed this grand occasion this year. But we didn't miss any meals! Christmas Eve we had appetizers and wine at the home of Dr. Kim (who works with the Kiwi Consort (KC) at the hospice) and her partner, Shirley, where we met Kim's parents and her office staff. When it finally got dark, about 10 PM or so, we drove to a street known for the lighted decorations on the houses. What a trip back in time for me. As a kid, my family was always in   the Duluth MN area for Christmas. Our family tradition on Christmas Eve was to drive from Clover Valley into Duluth to pay visits to the city cousins and look at the Christmas lights. Church was not part of that tradition of yore. But the KC and I went to the 11PM candlelight and carol service at First Church in Invercargill, no other identification is needed for this area settled predominantly by Scottish Presbyterians. Carla, a nurse colleague from the hospice invited us to attend as Sean, her 11-year old son with a pure, clear soprano voice sang two solos. The last, Silent Night, from the balcony sent us on our way into the silent night at 12:15 AM. We spent Christmas Day at the home of Brian and Ann (sister to Kate Macintosh) with the raucous Macintosh clan, 18 strong this day, with children, grandchildren, in-laws, and guests. It took three tables to seat all the folk and two plus tables to hold all the food. The major traditional food for Christmas? Boiled white new potatoes from the spring gardens. There was ham, chicken, multiples of vegetables and salads. The chocolate fountain required a separate overflow table. We started with crackers (see photo) at each place. Pulled apart with a partner, they popped rewarding the winner (like a turkey wishbone) with a cheezy toy. In addition to food aplenty, there were toasts as in "This will be a standing toast; recharge your glasses!" We refilled the wine glasses, stood and clinked all glasses at our table in response to the toast. Then each table came up with a joke. Finally, we earned our way to the fully loaded dessert table including two versions of the iconic Pavlova. A chocolate fountain was accommodated on yet another table. Waiting, waiting, waiting ....                   Food lined up on porch - waiting                                                                                                                                                     Tables are inviting The center of attention or the day was the Ranfurly Shield, recently won by the Southland Stags rugby team. More about that at another time, but suffice it to say we all had our pictures taken with team captain Jamie Macintosh and the shield. Jamie, who is quite the local hero, was immensely proud of the prize, justifiably a bit full of himself, cheerfully posed with each group and autographed programs about the prize for neighbors. The Macintosh clan with Ranfurly Shield   The final scene is what happens after every major family feast. As we left, the Kiwi men all went to a nearby park to play cricket and the women collapsed in the parlour.                                                                                Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

Boxing Day

Except for the United States, Boxing Day is observed in countries with ties to the old British Empire (a term that makes current Brits shudder). Here is what might be found on Boxing Day: Huge shopping discounts in the stores, a shopping day akin to the day after Thanksgiving in the United States, now called Black Friday A public holiday with no banking or postal services. If Christmas falls on a Friday as this year, the next Monday may be a public holiday. That is true in NZ this year. A day for family sports and parlour games Local professional sports contests Horse racing Cold cuts or Christmas leftovers spread in a buffet What are the origins of Boxing Day? There are several theories: While not really known, the origin may have started in Roman times as the Feast of St. Stephen, still observed on 26 December, designated as a time to donate goods and money to the poor Gifts of money were also given to family servants, who were given the day off. The family then had a cold spread to eat that day (a box lunch?), prepared in advance by the servants In Victorian England, it was a day for tradesmen to collect their "gift boxes" from patrons in return for good service Nevertheless, the etymology of the term Boxing Day is unknown, according to Wikipedia, my sole resource for this information On Boxing Day, the Kiwi Consort and I visited our former neighbors on Exmouth Street, noted the only store open in our little Windsor shopping area was the New World grocery, bought a can opener at The Warehouse which was doing a brisk business, and went to see the movie, Avatar at the Reading Theatre. We ate leftovers. Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

I'm baaaaack!! 24 December 2009

Kia Ora! I had so many leftover stories to tell when I returned from New Zealand that I fully intended to keep writing from the US. Didn't happen... But I am back in Southland Province in the city of Invercargill, where the KC (Kiwi Consort) and I lived for 6 months of 2008-9. So my intent is to pick up where I left off. We will be only 2 months in Invercargill and then we move to the city of Auckland in the Northland on North Island (of course) for 3-4 months. That will be 4 months for the KC and 3 months for the KT (Kiwi Traveler/me). KC is employed by Southland Hospice in Invercargill and at the end of January starts work at North Shore Hospice, where his contract goes to mid-June. I do not intend to miss all of May and half of June at the Minnesota cabin, so I will be back early. My intent is to write more frequently. The travelogs may include stories from all three years that we have lived in NZ: first in Greymouth, then Invercargill and next Auckland. I will date the entries if they seem time sensitive. At least that is the plan from this end of the journey. We'll see if it pans out that way or goes the way of all good intentions. More soon. Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

HOME TO INVERCARGILL 1 Dec. '09

HOME TO INVERCARGILL – 01 December 2009 As I pulled the larger of my bags to load into the car, a wheel fell off. No time now to fix it, it would fly 3-wheeled. An omen? Heading back for the third summer (USA winter) in New Zealand , something told me I needed to be prepared for any contingency that might arise: cancelled/delayed flights, overweight baggage, I was prepared for it all … almost. Clean underwear, pajamas, and hygiene products went into the backpack that would be my carry-on. If my bags were overweight, I was prepared to fling open the offending bag right there on the floor of the terminal in front of the check-in desk and transfer the 3 or so pounds to another bag. It wouldn't be the first time. For faster check-in at the airport, I joined the first class line. I struck up a conversation with the man ahead of me and learned that two flights had been canceled and the agents were scrambling to accommodate the displaced passengers, of which he was one. They all seemed to be in this line. It took 45 minutes to get to the agent, while ironically the economy line did not appear to be affected. My smaller bag topped out at 53 pounds (Air NewZealand allows 70), but the agent had more important things to consider. There was a problem with the system that prints baggage tags, so she not only had to register the bags electronically, but then make out old fashioned, hand written paper tags. I made sure they were checked all the way to Invercargill at the southern tip of New Zealand 's South Island . By arrival at LAX (Los Angeles), my least favorite airport in the world, I had been on my way for seven hours. Negotiating LAX was more problematic than it should have been. Misdirection from a uniformed worker sent me the wrong way pushing a luggage cart with my back pack and "personal bag" across several lanes of traffic, through a parking garage, and physically lifting the cart onto the side walk by terminal 2. Then I had to get another set of boarding passes from Air New Zealand and go through security again. I was wanded (I never get through easily since a knee replacement) and sent to wait until boarding. With a 12+ hour flight over the Pacific Ocean , there was plenty of time to eat meals, watch a movie, and get some sleep. I arrived in Auckland but apparently only one of my two bags did. Several persons were missing bags, and we marched as a group to Baggage Services. As the personnel were beginning to write up lost bag claims a shout went up from across the hall, and a large cart of found baggage was shoved in. All missing bags were there. I wonder how they could have lost a whole cart of baggage. Now I pushed my way safely past immigration, where I was scolded for having no arrival address, into biosecurity. I declared the Minnesota wild rice brought as gifts for friends. But the rice packer was not on their list as an approved vendor and that package was confiscated. I chose not to disclose the other two packages of wild rice still tucked my bag. I left Austin, Texas at noon on Tuesday, December 1st, and arrived in Auckland at 5:30AM Thursday, December 3, through the miracle of the International Date Line. I must say it certainly felt like I had been traveling for two days and I wasn't at my destination yet. I changed planes again in Christchurch before landing finally in Invercargill. Emerging from the jetway, I looked for friends who were going to pick me up. No one, so I have time to visit the rest room. Still no one. OK, I will take a taxi to … well, I didn't know where. I went back into the terminal to deal with the ATM machine, but this machine took only local bank cards. I still had credit cards and a taxi could wait while I got money from a more globally oriented machine in town. I stood outside the terminal now alone with my heaped-high baggage cart appreciating a rare warm sunny day and the smell of clean, salty sea air. The commuter bus had left and no taxis were in sight. Had my friends forgotten? Then they were there! Hugs all around from Nicki and Kate . Bags into the car and - oops! The entire retractable handle mechanism on the smaller of my bags fell off. But I was here without serious problems. I felt like I had come home! Cheers from the Kiwi Traveler

Day 2 in Qtown

Kia Ora!

I have yet to finish the trip to Queenstown; the best is yet to come. On Day 2 we rode the gondola to the top of the mountain that overlooks Queenstown. Once on top, there are a number of activities in which to participate. We ruled hang gliding out right away. Two persons were killed and one seriously injured on that activity this year. No one died bungy jumping. Yet.

We decided to ride the luge which required climbing on another lift. Neither the gondola nor the lift stops to load and unload passengers. One must jump in or climb on while in motion and off one goes. Or not, depending on one's agility. The attendant at the lift gave some kind of instruction that I didn't catch. They all have this funny accent, you know. As we swung off into the air, I did catch what she yelled next: "Pull the bar down or you'll fall off on your head!!!" Oh yeah. I reached up and behind us and pulled the bar over the front of us.

Tickets in hand, we chose the "gentle, scenic" luge route. I looked at the diminutive carts and asked if there were other sizes. Nope, one size fits all. Or not. This was sedately fun, at least for one of us.














We had a surprisingly delicious buffet lunch overlooking The Ledge, a hut cantilevered with no visible support off the edge of the mountain. We watched as a man in a blue shirt and tan shorts threw himself out of the hut and down into the abyss below, not once but at least 3 times. Each time hut attendants dragged him back up the bungy jump.

After lunch, I casually suggested we walk down to the bungy jump hut, just to see what it was all about. Yeah, sure. So, did she or didn't she? See April 14 entry.

Cheers and Aroha!
Kiwi Traveler

Home is where I am

"Home for you is wherever you hang your hat." Fern Keller (my mother), 1957. Kia Ora! We leave Invercargill tomorrow morning April 17, a bittersweet departure. While this has been a rewarding experience, we are anxious to get and give besos y brasos to our kids (that's Texas talk for hugs and kisses). Waiting for us will be 4 of our 5 kids and 3 grandchildren. Who wouldn't want to come home to that? First we fly through Christchurch to Auckland. We are staying there one night so The Kiwi Consort can interview for yet another temporary position in palliative care for next year. I guess he likes it! Friday afternoon we fly out of Auckland to LA. Then on to Austin via Denver, arriving around midnight. We will be in Texas for about a month and then drive to Minnesota where this writer will spend the North American summer months. That of course is an adventure in itself, but not one that falls into the vegemite tales category. (Although I brought some vegemite back with me. That stuff is addicting!) I have more tales about living and traveling in New Zealand (we have lived in Greymouth as well as Invercargill), Antarctica, and the sub-Antarctic islands that I haven't been able to finish and post. And at some time in the future, I will post on this site, all the adventures that I have been sending the select few on e-mail. So here's the deal. I will get them finished as I can and post them on the blog. Essentially, until we return to KiwiLand, this becomes a memoir, albeit one of relatively recent adventures. If you aren't already, I invite you to become a Follower. If it works as it should, the site will just notify you by email when a new posting is up. Then you can read it on the blog and post comments also. This is the address to bookmark: http://vegemite-tales.blogspot.com/ Thank you for reading my musings. I have so enjoyed the responses I received from you. Until we next meet ... Cheers and Aroha*! The Kiwi Traveler *Maori. Translates akin to Aloha from Hawaii.

AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...........

Keep your eye on the red shirt.....................







I don't think I can do this!
















Whoa! Back flip out?













YIKES!









WHOOPEE!!!!

































Big Bounce

















Just swingin'












Coming
back
up












I DID IT!!!!!










Note: Before the jump, I signed a legal waiver which I didn't read, of course. Later, I noted AJ Hackett Bungy would not be responsible for "... emotional trauma to friends and relatives ...". I would have just blown that off except The Partner was so relieved that I survived that he cried. Gotta' love that man!

Cheers!
Kiwi Traveler

Living the high life in Qtown

4 April 2009 Kia Ora! Queenstown is the queen of New Zealand's tourist industry. We have been here before but ignored the usual tourist attractions in favor of a wine tour and visit to a historical Chinese village limited restoration in Arrowtown, returning by way of the market orchards around Cromwell. You will find that story on a previous post. Now I want to be a tourist in Queenstown, so this is the weekend to indulge me, if not us. We are booked at the Novotel, teeming with busloads of tourists from America, Japan, Holland, Germany and who knows where else. I got in on an Internet special and then, bonus!, we are upgraded to a garden room. The Novotel is on Marine Parade, a boulevard right at the water front, and we can walk to The Mall, restaurants, and more. We choose highly reviewed restaurants for our meals (The Bunker, Pier 19, and Wai, which is Oh-My-Gawd! good). The Skyline Restaurant at the top of the peak overlooking Queenstown is closed Saturday, so that is saved until Sunday. For a buffet, it is surprisingly good also. So other than food, the big Saturday event is a trip across Lake Wakatipu in a vintage steamship, TSS Earnslaw. There is talk of closing this attraction because of the pollution from the coal-fired engine. I don't know; what do you think? We watched the coal being loaded into the hold and then viewed the engine room and the crew hand shoveling it into the engines. Some people wondered who was the Captain of this ship anyway! The ship is quite elegant and features a piano player and sing-a-long on the return trip. Alas, only the piano player seems to be singing. Some passengers debarked across the lake at Walter Peak Station to tour the compound of a former sheep station and watch demonstrations of dogs herding sheep and sheep shearing. Having just had an up-close-and-personal-tour of the McIntosh sheep farm, we passed on that option. Back at the quay, we shop an artist's flea market and wander out on a jetty. Here is the winning New Zealand ship from America's Cup, of which the Kiwis are justifiably proud. Tourists can get in on the thrill for a price and book a sail on the vessel. We wander on up to Shotover Street. I spy the AJHackett Bungy storefront. Hackett is the owner of several bungy jumps around Qtown. Are there jumps with a harness instead of ankle wraps, is my query. Then, eyeing my wrinkles and gray hair, he says: Good on you! You can make that jump. Yeah, right! Then we drive out to Glenorchy, a tiny hamlet at the other end of the lake. It is halfway to the trailhead of the Greenstone Track, the 4-day backpacking adventure we took on a long-ago trip to NZ. In the village, we share Devonshire tea and pleasant memories of a time when we could still do a mountain tramp. Saturday is the tame day. Just wait until I tell you about Sunday! Cheers, Kiwi Traveler