Road Trip New Zealand: Leg Three; Wellington & Christchurch



We left New Plymouth and headed towards Wellington, the capital of New Zealand.  Without a doubt my second favorite city.  Even though it was the wrong time.  We stayed on a Monday night, after a huge rugby match that Sunday.  So not a lot was going on in the city, we apparently had just missed the festivities from the previous weekend.

It was still enough for me to be intrigued enough to want to go back some day.  I've heard that it is most comparable to San Francisco, California.  Having never been to San Fran, I can't comment.  I have noticed however, that when in doubt, the inhabitants of the eastern hemisphere compare every city to San Francisco.

Almost everyone I have talked to that had been to the U.S., have only traveled to San Francisco, Los Angeles, and sometimes New York.  According to the masses, the rest of the states really do not matter and thus they form their opinions of the entire country solely on their experience in one of these 3 cities. 

That and their affinity for American pop culture and movies. 

"Do you guys really have those red cup parties in college?"

(Translation: Any scene from a movie in which there is an American keg party with solo cups, is amazing to them...they don't have "Solo Cups" in New Zealand...it's almost as if you've seen the Holy Grail, or at least a really cheap ghetto version.  They are fascinated by the aspect of drunken college students, girls especially, coming together and getting absolutely blasted and hooking up every chance they get. I got these questions...A LOT)

So these are the things Kiwi's base their opinions of Americans off of.  It's always fun to tell them stories about my time at Coastal Carolina University, where the "red cup parties" were plentiful.  It is also funny to tell them I'm from North Carolina and watch their face react as if I have spoken to them in some form of Clengon. (Sidenote: I don't mean to generalize the entire Kiwi population...but you know what, when you talk to 50 people and 46 of them have the same or similar story/questions...a spade is a spade, sorry)



New Zealand is a very relaxed country.  I see why Peter Jackson filmed "The Lord of the Rings" here, it's very Shire-esque complete with their patented "pipe-weed". 

It's a small country and easy to navigate, driving however is not when you're starting out on the "wrong side of the road".  Luckily for us, the longest leg of our trip coincidentally became the most scenic.



Crazy blue water

As we're driving along, we pass more than a few mountains and amazing views which we subsequently get out to take pictures along the way. 

We stop at a dam where the water was this beautiful color of blue which I have never seen before.  It's a rich and more attractive "aqua". 

We reach the end of the dam where there is a herd of cows, EVERY cow is staring at us.  All of them.  Every cow eye is looking at Matt and I as we videotape this prestine landscape.  Very creepy.  I tell Matt since he has all of their attention, then he might as well begin conducting a "Cow Sermon". 

I videotaped this historic event, which I can only imagine HAS TO BE the only sermon given to a herd of cows EVER.  However, I can't stop laughing throughout the whole video because tears are streaming down my face and of course, I'm a loser.  Here's however a typed transcript of our message to these cows for your enjoyment:

"COWS! We see what you have all gathered here to do, we just want to forwarn you of your future.  You will one day become feed for all of us.  Some of you will be steaks....some of you hamburgers!  Some of you mince!  (Cows begin to run)
But never the less we will enjoy you....Oh, NO, don't run away! We have so much more we need to tell you!  I just thought you should know! That is all! Go back to your grass eating and pooping...that is all for today...may the lord bless you...so we may one day eat you"

So there's that.  As if on cue the cows heard they would one day become food for us humans and ran off to greener pastures, no pun intended (okay, maybe a small pun intended).

On the way, we decide to pick up a hitchhiker.  It's a little rainy out and we're still a pretty far off of our destination.  He teaches us the term "Jafas" (Just another fucking Aucklander) and why they can't navigate outside of Auckland, he tells us stories of living in New Zealand and his various drug use.

We compare stories and he grabs his backpack.  Unprovoked he opens the pack, inside is an entire crop of Mesculin!

Great...we just picked up a major psychadelic dealer.  Wait!...we just picked up a major psychadelic dealer!

He declined, "Already sold", he says. 

He tells us that we probably don't want it anyways because we're heading into the city and it's better to be out in nature for this particular drug.  He says it tastes so bad when you take it that you would need Veggiemite (a popular breakfast spread for NZ and Aussie's, it's awful) as a chaser!

He also tells us a story of how his friend stood on a rock on the edge of a mountain because the moon wanted to kiss his friend on the nose....good thing we're in Wellington now. 

It's an absolutely beautiful city, best we've seen on the trip so far.  We're meeting a friend's friend to stay at her place with her flatmates.  All we have is a phone number and address.  The hitchhiker tells us where to go, we drop him off and end up at a park on top of Wellington.  Not a bad destination mind you, just not our intended destination.

We call the girl we're staying with, she has no idea where we are and no idea how to get us to her house.  She tells us various streets it's "close to".  Have I mentioned Kiwi's are worthless with directions? 

Matt and I drive around and eventually reach her house.  Her and her housemates are planning a bar-b-que...fast forward because this bar-b-que never happens and I'm wondering why there was even talk about it.  I bring this up because I'm not happy this cookout never happened...we have curry for dinner...AGAIN.

Dinner, showers, and drinking summarize the next hour or two.  They tell us they are in school and nothing happens in Wellington on Monday nights.  Matt and I don't like to be told a good time can't be had.  We decide to prove them wrong.  More drinking ensues and we declare our intentions to find whatever mischief the city has to offer.

We set out to one of the more popular streets for nightlife.  The girls were right.  Not a soul.  It's an absolute ghost town.  This might have been manageable, until we get into a bar and find out that Matt left his passport at the girl's house. 

Now he's drunk and very argumentative with the bouncers and barstaff because they won't accept his American drivers license.  He thinks his red beard and dreadlocks should at least merit a drink and show that he's above 18.  I'm not saying he's wrong about that, he definitely looks of age...he just went about it the wrong way. Which was pretty funny to me because I had my passport....and a drink.

So cross EVERY Wellington bar off the list of things to do because "we've come too far" and can't go back to the girl's house defeated. 

I walk into a grocery story and buy us beer, I feel really old.  I haven't bought anyone beer that couldn't buy it for themselves in awhile, not that this is a foreign concept to me...but I'm used to at least getting some money, a good party, or a lady friend out of the scenario.

We see some people posted up outside of a coffee shop drinking.  This may be our only chance.  We stroll up and take advantage of the public loitering. 

A few rounds later and Matt starts talking about his new affinity for "fire-spinning". 

Basically, you douse a stick or a "Poi" in kerosene and start twirling.  Some flip it...some do it to music...me?

 I don't do it. 

D-U-M-B.  Dumb.  Why would you do that?  Not only are you lighting a stick on FIRE and spinning it near your loose clothes and head....but let's add alcohol to drink as well!

Naturally, being in NZ, a girl tells him that she loves it too and has been practicing.  She then pulls her "Poi's" out of her bag, lights them on fire and begins to twirl. 

I'm shocked and amazed and not in the good way...this leads me to 3 questions among other wonderment:

1) Who do you think you are, Mary Poppins!?  Who has a bag like this!? What else is in that bag lady!?

2)Why the hell do you have a small canister of kerosene and 2 fuel soaked Poi's at all times?  Especially when you go out to town?  Or anywhere really? 

3) Where the hell are the cops!?

Seriously, this lady is throwing around flames in the streets of the capital city here....how does no one have a problem with this!?  It's not like we're in a back-alley, we're literally on one of the main streets in Wellington!  Unbelievable!  If we were in the states we'd all be going to jail for arson.

So after a couple hours and Matt almost hitting himself in the balls with a stick of fire and catching his flying dreads aflame.  We decide we need a new scene.  I previously decided this 15 minutes in; but when you have the opportunity to watch a friend do something incredibly stupid, you take it.

Low and behold, we look across the street and what do we see.  Strip club.  Done and done.  We're all sorted now!

This place was awful.  No bigger than a trailer, 2 stages and an upstairs "brothel".  Which it was confirmed later from an unnamed attendant that upstairs was in fact NOT a brothel, just a private dance area. 

I'll summarize this experience:

Matt and I drinking many double bourbon on the rocks to cope with the surroundings and our evening;

I get into a heated argument with the "striptender" about the amount of alcohol she's putting in our drinks, I'm screaming "DOUBLE MEANS 2 SHOTS!", she continues to pour us one shot in each...she's an idiot...
(I'm not used to the metric system and have yet to realize "ounces" don't exist here, I don't know what type of jigger she was using but it wasn't a double!);

We make fun of a few horrendous stippers
(in one instance a girl comes up to Matt and trys to straddle him, all he can do is laugh and yell "BUSH" at the top of his lungs);

We make it rain with our "monopoly money" because...it's not real you know;

Matt gets a private dance that he was less than happy about; 

Some of the strippers want to "play with my hair", I fight off these hideous ladies of the night like I'm George Clooney in "From Dusk Till Dawn". 

We leave or "get asked to" leave...one of the two.  The end. 

We make it back to the girls house sometime between 5-6am.  Don't really remember when exactly, don't really remember how either.  All I know is we have to get up in less than 2 hours to catch a ferry to the south island and if we didn't make that one, the next one didn't leave until nightfall. 

So it was not an option to skip this ferry.

We wake up and I'm struggling, to say the least.


The very least

Thanks to some daredevil moves by Matt and a few road violations we make the ferry just in time.  I scan every floor of the ferry looking for somewhere to sleep.  The picture above was my first choice, I was denied by several employees.  Usually I'd be outside enjoying the sea air and scenery...today is not that day.



Cold? Hungover? Not impressed?



I find a couch in the bar that is uninhabited.  I sleep the entire way.  Matt wakes me up to tell me about seeing seals and other wildlife on the way.  I'm not impressed. 

I do however encounter my first American other than Matt.  A guy spots me as we're grabbing a map of the south island to ask me about my hat.  I'm wearing my Carolina Panthers beenie, he's from Charlotte and asks me if I heard the news.

"What news?", I say.

"Cam Newtons first game, he threw for over 400 yards", the guy tells me.

"WHAT!?", I'm absolutely floored by this. 

I am a DIEHARD Panther fan.  This shows one of the many weird ways my brain works; but I felt at ease traveling to the other side of the world knowing that the Panthers were going to suck this year, that Cam would need at least a year to develop, and I would not be missing anything important.  It made me feel better about leaving, like I would just be setting myself up for disappointment if I stayed.

I'm on a mission now to find a computer or something with internet access so I can see what's happening with my Panthers.  It would have to wait because we're nowhere near anything resembling a computer and we have to get to Christchurch.

We arrive in Christchurch and it is a desolate place.  I felt so bad there.  Not because my liver was trying to jump out of my body (maybe a little of that) but for the people.  They have caught such a bad break.  After the earthquake last year, it's never really been the same.

 http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-02-22/multiple-deaths-as-quake-strikes-christchurch/1952772

The city is built on a some sort of fault and continues to have tremors and more quakes to this day.  They can't sustain anything or rebuild because it gets torn down again. 

The air is cold here, the sky is grey, the people are gloomy, it's like a Tim Burton movie intro before the cool stuff starts happening. 

The entire CBD (Central Business District) is in ruins and marked off.  We can barely drive around the town without running into damaged roads and fractured structures that throw us off course.  It just so happens that this too is the only place we are staying without a friend to call or a couch to crash.

We drive around and find a hostel.  My first ever hostel experience.  We are debating what to do because we haven't seen a single thing in the city that's even operational let alone entertaining.  We do what we do best, grab the bourbon and make new friends. 

I'm not one of these what I like to call "Tucker Max storytellers".  Where everything I do is completely awesome ALL THE TIME, sometimes it's just not in the cards and things don't work out like you plan.  I don't exaggerate to make the things I do sound better than they are.  One of my favorite sayings is, "It is what it is" and that's exactly how it's going to be, for me at least. 

We didn't leave the hostel the whole night.  Very uneventful, completely unfufilling and there was nothing that could be done about it. 

Probably the only entertaining anecdote that happened at the hostel was I stole Matt's towel while he was showering and he had to run around the hostel naked...he also took a poop outside for a reason that I can't seem to recall.  He went and found it the next morning to see if anyone had cleaned it up, they hadn't.   

On a more serious note though, it is really sad how many people lost their jobs and houses and can't even do anything to get it back.  It seems like everytime they start to build it back up, it gets torn down again. 

One night was more than enough for me, I can't imagine what a week, or months, or years, or even a lifetime there would be like. 

My thoughts and prayers go out to that city for sure. 

Ferry Ride