Where am I?

Blue smoke goes drifting by into the deep blue sky. My memories of home will never die.

It's Pixie Williams on the radio. A New Zealand folk singer.

I feel for a moment that I've slipped back in time.

The next song is also weird and unknown - how tutors and gods aren't supposed to feel the trees and dance around the world. Or so we think. In the end they are dancing and seeing all the world. I'm not sure what sort of odd run this station is on. Each song that comes on is as different as it could be from the previous one.

I had no idea where I was when I woke up this morning. (Again.) For almost six months, this has been a common first thought of the day. It's is one of the odd bits of travel. Different houses, hostels, beds every night. Maybe I like the confusion.

Abels and Duskys

Preview for the ending of this blog:
Introducing... Abel Tasman. The smallest national park in New Zealand, located at the upper tip of the south island. It's an area of pristine wonderment. Yes. Apple Rocks in Abel Tasman National Park

Abel Tasman.

Me, looking very strenuous (I feel that is the wrong word use but it's the word I want), in Abel Tasman. Yes there is a theme. It's Abel. He was a Dutch explorer who got scared off by the local Maoris here and jettisoned back North after the Maoris murdered a couple of his crew. They still named the park after him. Not sure why. I think I forgot.

It's more Abel! I did a 7 hour day hike (according to the dept of conservation) but it took me only 5 hours. Now you know how super fit I am. (I wish.)

I sort of wanted to buy this car (which I saw on the side of the road in Kaikoura), but there is that problem of importing. Can't you all see me driving a 1970 bubblegum pink convertible? It had a perfect interior. All for $10,000NZ ($5,800US).

Kaikoura beach. Beautiful town.

These buggers are hard to catch on film. But guess what? I went swimming with them today. For Easter, for Carrie's 30th birthday and for my own entertainment. No complaints here about the experience except that I'm pretty certain I lowered my core body temp even with the thick wet suit. These guys are dusky dolphins. They swim in huge pods... and will swim with you in circles especially when you are as good of an underwater singer as I am (it would be a different story entirely if I had been singing in the open air).

AND... I still don't have a flight home. S#$% if I know what I am doing! But I am having a very good time. And I think that is what life is about.

Wellington

Check out the title for this compelling read: (now what would have happened if I'd have washed that lady's windows?) Found this in the Wellington Film Archives. Perhaps they had their media a little mixed up?
Here's Jeremy-ette and Sanhya, two of my hosts in Wellington, the night of their flatwarming.

You can see the influence of my level of maturity from last year. Sita, Sam (the other flat-mate), Shonit and William (I helped with the tatoo placement).

How could I pass by a store with this name and not take a photo? I love fancy pants!

Taxes,uggh!

I didn't even leave the hostel today. Butt glued to the couch, I worked furiously until I wrenched my eyes into a-3.00 glasses prescription via nearpoint fatigue. That's opto-speak for what happens to after staring for hours and hours at a computer - distance vision in the crapper. Happily, though, US taxes are complete!

I was supposed to be planning the next stage of my trip, but rain dripped and poured down all day, so I wasn't too inspired nor was I about to go exploring Picton. Luckily, I'd done that yesterday after my ferry cruise from Wellington. The seas were friendly as I crossed. Nary a soul was seasick (sorry for you last time, Josh!)

I've tentatively planned to go down to Blenheim and Kaikoura (both on the east coast of the south island), then do a little hiking on the St. James walkway. After which I figure I may be a little fatigued, so I've arranged to work at a backpackers in Oamaru for a week. (Hopefully they don't own any Lexuses.)

The final stages of my south island adventure will be taking in the deep south- Invercargill, Stewart Island (where everyone brags how they married their cousin) and finally, Dunedin, a college town, where I'll fly out April 7th to Auckland to partake in graduation.

During the previous six days in Wellington, I reconnected with my former students, transitioning our relationship to peers from supervisor-student. Three of them were flatting in a house together and graciously put me up for a while. Visiting people in their homes is such a treat, especially these guys, who were having their flat-warming party while I was there. I never can resist the opportunity to dress up. This time I was a red headed pirate.

Wwoofing

I tried my hand at Wwoofing (willing workers on organic farms). The organic farming turned out to be washing and waxing a Lexus, hanging laundry and organising a linen closet. I also learned how to make yogurt from a package of powdered milk. That was the closest thing to "organic farming" in that experience. When the lady of the house mentioned that she was going to have me wash all her windows with wet newpapers, I rapidly packed my bags. I'm not sure I'll try any more wwoofing. Since we've entered the winter season in New Zealand, I fear I'll be more like slave labour than actually farming and learning. But I may give it one more shot. We'll see how dumb I really am!