On Tap
You may have noticed that this blog is titled the "binarynoise.net travel blog." You may also notice that I'm not really traveling right now, which might imply that this blog will slowly die. Fortunately, I've found a solution: keep traveling! If there's one thing I've learned about my trip to New Zealand it's that traveling is awesome. I'm hanging out in San Francisco right now and I'm heading up to Seattle tomorrow. I personally consider that traveling, but it's not too exciting. To make up for it I'll be visiting Costa Rica for a week, starting October 6th! Yes, it's the middle of the "green" season (a tourist-friendly term for rainy season), but it's gonna be a great trip. I've already got San Jose, an active volcano, a cloud forest, and jungle peninsula lined up. That'll get me through the middle of October and who knows what's after that.
So what else do you do when you're hanging around the Internet capital of the world without much to do? You organize your photo collection! I uploaded my last set of pictures, which include some more Sydney pictures, day trips in Cairns, and Auckland. I also tagged all the pictures so you can check out a group of pictures without wading through the rest of the collection. You can take a look here. There's some pictures from Africa mixed in there too, but I think you'll figure out which pictures belong where pretty quickly.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Sour Taste In My Craw
Well I made it home safely. Well not "home" exactly, but I'm the US. Auckland was a great two day trip. Strangely enough, my favorite thing in Auckland was the hotel. It wasn't anything special, but it was the first time in two months that I (a) slept in a bed that I actually fit on, (b) slept in a room without 1 - 5 roommates, and (c) enjoyed a real shower, not a trickling stream of variable temperature water. I had one night in Auckland and, instead of looking for night life, I curled up in bed with junk food and watched New Zealand TV. It was a great night.
My trip home was fairly uneventful. Sadly, I had forgot about our country's fantastic security measures and lost a rare souvenir in the process. I don't feel like retelling the story, I think it'll just get me fired up again. But this whole "no liquids in your carry-on" seems a little ridiculous. It reminded me of the different routines we get to go through over here, and made me miss New Zealand before I left.
So what else did I learn in Auckland? Oh yeah, even a sleepy country like New Zealand can get suspicious if you don't have the right answers for a customs officer. In this case the wrong answer is a single, young, male traveling to Auckland for just two days with no idea where he's going to stay for the night. They really didn't like that last part. I thought it was kind of fun to land in Auckland with no idea where I was going to go for the day, but the customs agent wanted to know something a little more specific than "Auckland" as my destination address. They eventually let me through, but it would have been a lot easier if I had just picked a hotel at random and gone with that.
I also passed my last test in Auckland, driving a rental car on the wrong side of the road. Things actually went pretty smoothly. The only hiccup was about 20 minutes into my inaugural trip. I was sitting at a light, trying to figure out where I was and where I was going, when I looked up and saw a police officer behind me. I didn't necessarily panic, but I forgot everything I was thinking about and concentrated 100% on not breaking any laws. I survived the ordeal but ended up completely lost and turned around. Sadly, it wasn't the last time I'd get completely lost driving around Auckland, but fortunately I really liked driving so I didn't mind.
Well I made it home safely. Well not "home" exactly, but I'm the US. Auckland was a great two day trip. Strangely enough, my favorite thing in Auckland was the hotel. It wasn't anything special, but it was the first time in two months that I (a) slept in a bed that I actually fit on, (b) slept in a room without 1 - 5 roommates, and (c) enjoyed a real shower, not a trickling stream of variable temperature water. I had one night in Auckland and, instead of looking for night life, I curled up in bed with junk food and watched New Zealand TV. It was a great night.
My trip home was fairly uneventful. Sadly, I had forgot about our country's fantastic security measures and lost a rare souvenir in the process. I don't feel like retelling the story, I think it'll just get me fired up again. But this whole "no liquids in your carry-on" seems a little ridiculous. It reminded me of the different routines we get to go through over here, and made me miss New Zealand before I left.
So what else did I learn in Auckland? Oh yeah, even a sleepy country like New Zealand can get suspicious if you don't have the right answers for a customs officer. In this case the wrong answer is a single, young, male traveling to Auckland for just two days with no idea where he's going to stay for the night. They really didn't like that last part. I thought it was kind of fun to land in Auckland with no idea where I was going to go for the day, but the customs agent wanted to know something a little more specific than "Auckland" as my destination address. They eventually let me through, but it would have been a lot easier if I had just picked a hotel at random and gone with that.
I also passed my last test in Auckland, driving a rental car on the wrong side of the road. Things actually went pretty smoothly. The only hiccup was about 20 minutes into my inaugural trip. I was sitting at a light, trying to figure out where I was and where I was going, when I looked up and saw a police officer behind me. I didn't necessarily panic, but I forgot everything I was thinking about and concentrated 100% on not breaking any laws. I survived the ordeal but ended up completely lost and turned around. Sadly, it wasn't the last time I'd get completely lost driving around Auckland, but fortunately I really liked driving so I didn't mind.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Travel Tip #135 (September 24th, 2006)
Don't wait until the last night of a six week vacation to do all of your souvenir shopping, especially if that last night is a Sunday night. You might think, "Hey I'm in a tourist-powered city, of course everything will be open on a Sunday night." But it won't. And you'll be left with nothing to show your friends and family when you get home, not even a cheap boomerang.
On the subject of unsolicited advice, I finally watched An Inconvenient Truth a few nights ago. I feel like the message got diluted a little bit by his back story, but I'm glad I saw it, even though it was a little depressing. But as Gore mentions, a lot of people go straight from ignorance to despair, skipping the "let's do something about this" phase. I'm attempting to do my part by encouraging everyone to watch the movie. If you can't (or don't want to) see it, you can wander over to www.climatecrisis.net and see what you can do to help solve the problem.
If I've only learned one thing this trip it's that every part of this world is beautiful and completely unique. I'd like to help keep it that way so my kids can see it some day too.
Don't wait until the last night of a six week vacation to do all of your souvenir shopping, especially if that last night is a Sunday night. You might think, "Hey I'm in a tourist-powered city, of course everything will be open on a Sunday night." But it won't. And you'll be left with nothing to show your friends and family when you get home, not even a cheap boomerang.
On the subject of unsolicited advice, I finally watched An Inconvenient Truth a few nights ago. I feel like the message got diluted a little bit by his back story, but I'm glad I saw it, even though it was a little depressing. But as Gore mentions, a lot of people go straight from ignorance to despair, skipping the "let's do something about this" phase. I'm attempting to do my part by encouraging everyone to watch the movie. If you can't (or don't want to) see it, you can wander over to www.climatecrisis.net and see what you can do to help solve the problem.
If I've only learned one thing this trip it's that every part of this world is beautiful and completely unique. I'd like to help keep it that way so my kids can see it some day too.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Finding Nemo (September 23rd, 2006)
Finally got some more pictures up! As promised, the diving pictures aren't all that spectacular. But I got a couple good pictures of Nemo (the clownfish), so I didn't come out empty handed.
Tonight is my last night in Australia. I've got one more day trip tomorrow and then I slowly start heading home with an 11:50pm flight down to Auckland, where I get a day to relax before flying back to San Francisco.
I've been keeping myself busy the last couple of days. Instead of sitting in town for my last three days I set up three day trips. Two days ago I went river rafting on the Russell River. What was fun was that instead of the large 8 to 10 person rafts we had a fleet of small, two person rafts. So basically the guide would tell us a good path to take through the next set of rapids and send us on our way. Good fun all around, but I'm not sure about their river categories down here. The Russell River is listed as a level 4 rapid, and although there was one 5 foot waterfall (which was great fun!) you could pretty much walk through most of the river, if you had to. I wanted to fear for my life at least once. :)
Today was a slower paced trip up to the Atherton Tablelands. It's amazing how lush Australia is along the coast, it feels like I'm in central America or something. Spending the day in a 4x4 truck bouncing around the jungle and outback isn't the absolute greatest way to spend a day, but you get to see a lot of terrain that way. It was so relaxing up there that I wish I could have pulled over and slept in the sun next to a lake for a few hours instead of plunging forward in the 4x4. Next trip, I suppose.
Another big problem with these trips is that everyone keeps asking "So how long are you here for?" This is usually fine, "6 weeks" is a pretty solid answer. But today I had to start saying, "Actually I leave tomorrow night." And this leads to a whole discussion about going home, which isn't something I'm really ready to think about yet, let alone discuss. In fact, I'm not ready to think about it now, so I'm going to go have a beer and watch rugby game instead.
Finally got some more pictures up! As promised, the diving pictures aren't all that spectacular. But I got a couple good pictures of Nemo (the clownfish), so I didn't come out empty handed.
Tonight is my last night in Australia. I've got one more day trip tomorrow and then I slowly start heading home with an 11:50pm flight down to Auckland, where I get a day to relax before flying back to San Francisco.
I've been keeping myself busy the last couple of days. Instead of sitting in town for my last three days I set up three day trips. Two days ago I went river rafting on the Russell River. What was fun was that instead of the large 8 to 10 person rafts we had a fleet of small, two person rafts. So basically the guide would tell us a good path to take through the next set of rapids and send us on our way. Good fun all around, but I'm not sure about their river categories down here. The Russell River is listed as a level 4 rapid, and although there was one 5 foot waterfall (which was great fun!) you could pretty much walk through most of the river, if you had to. I wanted to fear for my life at least once. :)
Today was a slower paced trip up to the Atherton Tablelands. It's amazing how lush Australia is along the coast, it feels like I'm in central America or something. Spending the day in a 4x4 truck bouncing around the jungle and outback isn't the absolute greatest way to spend a day, but you get to see a lot of terrain that way. It was so relaxing up there that I wish I could have pulled over and slept in the sun next to a lake for a few hours instead of plunging forward in the 4x4. Next trip, I suppose.
Another big problem with these trips is that everyone keeps asking "So how long are you here for?" This is usually fine, "6 weeks" is a pretty solid answer. But today I had to start saying, "Actually I leave tomorrow night." And this leads to a whole discussion about going home, which isn't something I'm really ready to think about yet, let alone discuss. In fact, I'm not ready to think about it now, so I'm going to go have a beer and watch rugby game instead.
Friday, September 22, 2006
A Day At The Beach (September 15th, 2006)
[Note: I wrote this up last week but have been waiting for the pictures to get online before posting it. Sorry for the strange ordering...] It looks like I made a good choice of hostels. The WakeUp! hostel has been great to me so far. On Thursday they offered a half-day walking tour of Sydney followed by a free BBQ and half price drinks for everyone in the tour. Today they had another free walking trip, a tour of five Sydney beaches, from Koogee to Bondi (one of Sydney's most famous beaches).
Yesterday's tour of downtown was a great way to see most of Sydney's major points. We stopped by some water fountains at Darling Harbor, saw the Sydney tower a couple of times, and (of course) checked out the Opera house and harbor bridge. The bridge had people climbing all over it and climbing it looks like a pretty fun trek. But then I learned that it's $189 Australian dollars for the BridgeClimb. I don't think it looks like that much fun.
Sydney is full of parks, though, and we were able to take in some of the local wildlife (I don't think feeding the cockatoos is technically permitted, but it made for some fun pictures).
Today we took a 15 minute bus ride out to Koogee beach and from there walked a few miles along the coast up to Bondi beach. Bondi beach is home to Australia's oldest surf lifesaving club (not sure why they're so particular about the name, but they are). The water didn't look too treacherous, but -- as if to prove that it is -- the lifeguards were pulling someone out as we arrived. There was an ambulance, lifeguard truck, the whole shebang, but no one seemed to care too much. I guess it happens a lot at Bondi.
And although Sydney feels a bit like most big cities, there are always subtle differences that make you realize you're not home. For example, there is no "Jack in the Box" chain, but there is something very similar. And for some reason I really liked this sign in the bus, reminding senior citizens not to fall asleep while on the bus. Oh yeah, and everything really is backwards down here. Not only do cars drive on the wrong side of the road, but horse races run clockwise. I was watching some sport highlights last night and was shocked to see horses sprinting backwards down the track. Even the escalators run backwards. I know that doesn't make much sense, but imagine you're standing at the bottom of two sets of escalators. The one on the right would be going up, right? Not in Australia! I've almost walked onto the wrong escalator a couple of times in the last two months now.
Tomorrow I'm heading out of Sydney for a day trip to the Blue Mountains. There are two types of tours, the "hardcore" trip that includes a 3 hour hike through the bush and the "tourist" trip that includes a stop at a wildlife park to feed kangaroos and koalas. I like to think that I'm pretty hardcore, but after 8 hours of walking in the last two days I'm ready to a let a bus do the transporting for me. Plus I want to pet a kangaroo. :)
[Note: I wrote this up last week but have been waiting for the pictures to get online before posting it. Sorry for the strange ordering...] It looks like I made a good choice of hostels. The WakeUp! hostel has been great to me so far. On Thursday they offered a half-day walking tour of Sydney followed by a free BBQ and half price drinks for everyone in the tour. Today they had another free walking trip, a tour of five Sydney beaches, from Koogee to Bondi (one of Sydney's most famous beaches).
Yesterday's tour of downtown was a great way to see most of Sydney's major points. We stopped by some water fountains at Darling Harbor, saw the Sydney tower a couple of times, and (of course) checked out the Opera house and harbor bridge. The bridge had people climbing all over it and climbing it looks like a pretty fun trek. But then I learned that it's $189 Australian dollars for the BridgeClimb. I don't think it looks like that much fun.
Sydney is full of parks, though, and we were able to take in some of the local wildlife (I don't think feeding the cockatoos is technically permitted, but it made for some fun pictures).
Today we took a 15 minute bus ride out to Koogee beach and from there walked a few miles along the coast up to Bondi beach. Bondi beach is home to Australia's oldest surf lifesaving club (not sure why they're so particular about the name, but they are). The water didn't look too treacherous, but -- as if to prove that it is -- the lifeguards were pulling someone out as we arrived. There was an ambulance, lifeguard truck, the whole shebang, but no one seemed to care too much. I guess it happens a lot at Bondi.
And although Sydney feels a bit like most big cities, there are always subtle differences that make you realize you're not home. For example, there is no "Jack in the Box" chain, but there is something very similar. And for some reason I really liked this sign in the bus, reminding senior citizens not to fall asleep while on the bus. Oh yeah, and everything really is backwards down here. Not only do cars drive on the wrong side of the road, but horse races run clockwise. I was watching some sport highlights last night and was shocked to see horses sprinting backwards down the track. Even the escalators run backwards. I know that doesn't make much sense, but imagine you're standing at the bottom of two sets of escalators. The one on the right would be going up, right? Not in Australia! I've almost walked onto the wrong escalator a couple of times in the last two months now.
Tomorrow I'm heading out of Sydney for a day trip to the Blue Mountains. There are two types of tours, the "hardcore" trip that includes a 3 hour hike through the bush and the "tourist" trip that includes a stop at a wildlife park to feed kangaroos and koalas. I like to think that I'm pretty hardcore, but after 8 hours of walking in the last two days I'm ready to a let a bus do the transporting for me. Plus I want to pet a kangaroo. :)
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
An American Birthday Present (September 21st, 2006)
I've got 10 minutes left, so one more quick story for the day. The year is 1988, Sydney is celebrating it's bicentennial anniversary. America, in a nice gesture, gives Australia a birthday present. So what does it give? A gallery celebrating joint Australia - American connections. In theory I think that sounds okay. But as you walk into the Australian Nation Maritime Museum in Sydney you're greeted with a huge section titled the "USA Gallery" and currently dedicated to the American Navy. A quick look at the plaque says that this was given to Australia by the US to celebrate Australia's 200 year anniversary. Great, so it looks like America gave a memorial of itself to Australia for Australia's birthday. I think things like this don't help America's self-absorbed public image.
I've got 10 minutes left, so one more quick story for the day. The year is 1988, Sydney is celebrating it's bicentennial anniversary. America, in a nice gesture, gives Australia a birthday present. So what does it give? A gallery celebrating joint Australia - American connections. In theory I think that sounds okay. But as you walk into the Australian Nation Maritime Museum in Sydney you're greeted with a huge section titled the "USA Gallery" and currently dedicated to the American Navy. A quick look at the plaque says that this was given to Australia by the US to celebrate Australia's 200 year anniversary. Great, so it looks like America gave a memorial of itself to Australia for Australia's birthday. I think things like this don't help America's self-absorbed public image.
The Locals (September 21st, 2006)
I recently realized that I've complained a fair bit about local accents and curious word choice, without giving proper due to the great phrases non-Americans are contributing to the English language.
My favorite, by far, is the New Zealander's "sweet as!" line of sayings. Did something work out well? "Sweet as!" Sweet as what, exactly? It doesn't really matter, it's just sweet as. And it's not just limited to sweet, either. "Cool as", "cold as", and "funny as" were all used frequently. As far as I can tell you can throw "as" after any adjective and it'll work. Definitely fun.
Another great word is "knackered." This seems to be more of a British thing, but that's okay. The way they say "I was absolutely knackered" is so passionate, you can almost feel the knackered-ness just from talking to them. Knackered is almost always intensified with "absolutely" and everyone uses the same passionate emphasis. It always makes me smile.
What else? Oh yeah, one of my favorite words of all time, "queue." Dunno why, but I've always liked that word. And people down here use it! All the time. I don't really have any funny stories for queue, either. I'm just happy to see it getting some use down here.
I recently realized that I've complained a fair bit about local accents and curious word choice, without giving proper due to the great phrases non-Americans are contributing to the English language.
My favorite, by far, is the New Zealander's "sweet as!" line of sayings. Did something work out well? "Sweet as!" Sweet as what, exactly? It doesn't really matter, it's just sweet as. And it's not just limited to sweet, either. "Cool as", "cold as", and "funny as" were all used frequently. As far as I can tell you can throw "as" after any adjective and it'll work. Definitely fun.
Another great word is "knackered." This seems to be more of a British thing, but that's okay. The way they say "I was absolutely knackered" is so passionate, you can almost feel the knackered-ness just from talking to them. Knackered is almost always intensified with "absolutely" and everyone uses the same passionate emphasis. It always makes me smile.
What else? Oh yeah, one of my favorite words of all time, "queue." Dunno why, but I've always liked that word. And people down here use it! All the time. I don't really have any funny stories for queue, either. I'm just happy to see it getting some use down here.
Watch Out, Jacques Cousteau (September 21st, 2006)
Still working on getting my land legs sorted out, but I've successfully added two more certifications to my trip: Open Water Diver and Adventure Diver! The three day trip out to the Great Barrier Reef was amazing. Not necessarily relaxing, but it certainly wasn't short on adventure. It's been very windy in Cairns for the last week (and continued during our trip), which makes the water very choppy, especially on the way out to the reef. Day 1 started with a 3.5 hour ride out and at least 60% of our group (about 35 divers) made a personal contribution to the ocean. The rest of us sat still in the back of the boat, grim faced, doing anything possible to help keep our stomaches where they belong and to avoid hearing the constant sounds of the less fortunate or see the parade of sea-sick bags dropping from the second level into the sea. Not exactly the highlight of the trip.
Once we set up at the reef, though, the waves were much more manageable. And the diving was beautiful. Our first two dives were open water certification dives so we'd drop down to 10 - 14 meters and do drills like taking our mask off and on, removing our regulator, and getting our buoyancy correct in the water. Everything went pretty smoothly except during a mask clearing exercise (getting sea water out of your mask) when one guy accidentally spit his regulator out (which is okay) but instead of reaching for his secondary air suplly he grabbed his snorkel mouthpiece. Obviously the snorkel isn't going to do much good at 13 meters, but fortunately our instructor was right next to him and got the regulator back in before the guy attempted breathing through his snorkel.
It was at that point that I realized how stressful being a diver instructor actually is. Diving the Great Barrier Reef 3 - 5 days a week sounds like a pretty fun job, but when you're in the middle of the ocean, 30 feet below the surface, in charge of 8 to 10 people who've never dived before, "relaxing" can turn to "panicking" in a split second, at any split second. Our instructor was a lot of fun, but you could tell that he was keeping a close eye on us the entire time we were under the water. His job was definitely not as relaxing as I had imagined.
Anyway, we were officially certified as open water divers on the second morning and were able to do our first dive without an instructor shortly after that. I felt like I had joined a club at that point, as the "real" divers (the ones who weren't doing the certification course) actually started talking to us at that point. All of a sudden we were real people in their eyes; they even helped us pull our wetsuits on and everything. :) It was a little strange being out there with just your buddy, but you quickly forget about it as you drift around the coral, staring at the hundreds of different fish (who are just as curiously staring at you). I came back from my first real dive as happy as could be.
After our free dive we did a night dive, which is one of the strangest things I've ever done. It's absolutely surreal standing on the back of the boat when it's pitch black out, realizing that you're about to jump in with just a small flashlight (or torch, as they say down here) to light your way. I jumped in, looked down and saw a huge fish hanging out just below me (where "huge" is say 1.5 feet long). Fortunately he was as freaked out as I was and he took off. After the initial shock of basically 0 visibility, things settled down. And once under water everything was fine. It's probably the closest I'll come to space exploration, and that's just what it felt like to me. Slowly spinning around, seeing things appear from nowhere and disappear back again was strange, but fun. We didn't see too much at night, but did find a huge green turtle and we all followed it for a while. They're really graceful in the water and at night, with flashlights providing the only light in front of a pitch black stage, our turtle was mesmerizing and we floated along with him for a good 5 minutes.
The last day started with a deep dive down to 26 meters (about 85 feet) to see if anyone would get nitrogen narcosis. Going down to 26 meters doesn't really feel any different from 15, except when you look up you realize that the surface is a long, long ways away. We also brought some fun toys down to see the effects of the additional pressure and loss of color (everything starts turning to shades of blue the deeper you get). In the end no one suffered from narcosis and things went pretty smoothly. Sadly, it appears that I'm some sort of oxygen Hoover; I was going through my tank faster than anyone on all the dives. On the deep dive I ended up low enough that I needed share air on the trip back to the surface with my buddy. It wasn't stressful though, and I guess it was a good experience to actually go through a low on air experience.
Whew, I feel like I could write about this forever. I took one roll of pictures down on the reef and got maybe 2 or 3 good pictures. I'll get them up soon, along with my Sydney photos. But for now, I'm going to veg for a bit.
Still working on getting my land legs sorted out, but I've successfully added two more certifications to my trip: Open Water Diver and Adventure Diver! The three day trip out to the Great Barrier Reef was amazing. Not necessarily relaxing, but it certainly wasn't short on adventure. It's been very windy in Cairns for the last week (and continued during our trip), which makes the water very choppy, especially on the way out to the reef. Day 1 started with a 3.5 hour ride out and at least 60% of our group (about 35 divers) made a personal contribution to the ocean. The rest of us sat still in the back of the boat, grim faced, doing anything possible to help keep our stomaches where they belong and to avoid hearing the constant sounds of the less fortunate or see the parade of sea-sick bags dropping from the second level into the sea. Not exactly the highlight of the trip.
Once we set up at the reef, though, the waves were much more manageable. And the diving was beautiful. Our first two dives were open water certification dives so we'd drop down to 10 - 14 meters and do drills like taking our mask off and on, removing our regulator, and getting our buoyancy correct in the water. Everything went pretty smoothly except during a mask clearing exercise (getting sea water out of your mask) when one guy accidentally spit his regulator out (which is okay) but instead of reaching for his secondary air suplly he grabbed his snorkel mouthpiece. Obviously the snorkel isn't going to do much good at 13 meters, but fortunately our instructor was right next to him and got the regulator back in before the guy attempted breathing through his snorkel.
It was at that point that I realized how stressful being a diver instructor actually is. Diving the Great Barrier Reef 3 - 5 days a week sounds like a pretty fun job, but when you're in the middle of the ocean, 30 feet below the surface, in charge of 8 to 10 people who've never dived before, "relaxing" can turn to "panicking" in a split second, at any split second. Our instructor was a lot of fun, but you could tell that he was keeping a close eye on us the entire time we were under the water. His job was definitely not as relaxing as I had imagined.
Anyway, we were officially certified as open water divers on the second morning and were able to do our first dive without an instructor shortly after that. I felt like I had joined a club at that point, as the "real" divers (the ones who weren't doing the certification course) actually started talking to us at that point. All of a sudden we were real people in their eyes; they even helped us pull our wetsuits on and everything. :) It was a little strange being out there with just your buddy, but you quickly forget about it as you drift around the coral, staring at the hundreds of different fish (who are just as curiously staring at you). I came back from my first real dive as happy as could be.
"We saw two turtles!" I happily tell another diver.
"Cool!" he respondes, "did you see the white-tip coral shark?"
"Woah, no. That would have been great!" I tell him.
"Yeah, what about the octopus, catch a glimpse of that?"
"Oh... no, didn't see that either." I'm still happy, but not as peppy as I was 30 seconds ago.
Another diver walks over, "Did you guys see the school of 15 barracudas?"
"No..." I trail off. But then I realize, "Hey, but I saw two turtles and it was great!"
"A dive is only as much fun as the diver makes it." They smile and head upstairs. I think that was a compliment...
After our free dive we did a night dive, which is one of the strangest things I've ever done. It's absolutely surreal standing on the back of the boat when it's pitch black out, realizing that you're about to jump in with just a small flashlight (or torch, as they say down here) to light your way. I jumped in, looked down and saw a huge fish hanging out just below me (where "huge" is say 1.5 feet long). Fortunately he was as freaked out as I was and he took off. After the initial shock of basically 0 visibility, things settled down. And once under water everything was fine. It's probably the closest I'll come to space exploration, and that's just what it felt like to me. Slowly spinning around, seeing things appear from nowhere and disappear back again was strange, but fun. We didn't see too much at night, but did find a huge green turtle and we all followed it for a while. They're really graceful in the water and at night, with flashlights providing the only light in front of a pitch black stage, our turtle was mesmerizing and we floated along with him for a good 5 minutes.
The last day started with a deep dive down to 26 meters (about 85 feet) to see if anyone would get nitrogen narcosis. Going down to 26 meters doesn't really feel any different from 15, except when you look up you realize that the surface is a long, long ways away. We also brought some fun toys down to see the effects of the additional pressure and loss of color (everything starts turning to shades of blue the deeper you get). In the end no one suffered from narcosis and things went pretty smoothly. Sadly, it appears that I'm some sort of oxygen Hoover; I was going through my tank faster than anyone on all the dives. On the deep dive I ended up low enough that I needed share air on the trip back to the surface with my buddy. It wasn't stressful though, and I guess it was a good experience to actually go through a low on air experience.
Whew, I feel like I could write about this forever. I took one roll of pictures down on the reef and got maybe 2 or 3 good pictures. I'll get them up soon, along with my Sydney photos. But for now, I'm going to veg for a bit.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Crikey! (September 17th, 2006)
It's been a whirl-wind four days here in Sydney. I've been so busy walking, hiking, shopping and enjoying the sun that I really haven't had much time reflect on the city. This morning I walked up to the Rocks, an upscale part of Sydney next to the harbor bridge. Simone, one of my new friends from the snowboarding course was working there for the weekend and promised there'd be some free food if I found my way up there. The free food won me over and I spent a very relaxing morning at a French cafe. In my blissful daze I hear an older British couple discussing the meal they just ate. The woman summed it up with very British, very stodgy, "Well that was rather pleasant." It was funnier if you actually heard her say it. But as I was chuckling to myself I realized that she pretty much summed up my stay in Sydney. Rather pleasant, indeed!
So next stop: Cairns, Australia. Talking to the backpackers in Sydney I'm a little less excited about Cairns that I was a week ago. It sounds like the city isn't all that great and the surfing is basically non-existent (the barrier reef kills pretty much any wave activity and the pleasant box jelly fish hang out along the coast). But I can't wait to go diving. I'm heading out on a three day diving trip bright and early tomorrow morning.
I've got a bunch of pictures and some stories from Sydney that I'd love to share, provided I can find some free. After the dive trip I'll see if I can get my act together. :)
It's been a whirl-wind four days here in Sydney. I've been so busy walking, hiking, shopping and enjoying the sun that I really haven't had much time reflect on the city. This morning I walked up to the Rocks, an upscale part of Sydney next to the harbor bridge. Simone, one of my new friends from the snowboarding course was working there for the weekend and promised there'd be some free food if I found my way up there. The free food won me over and I spent a very relaxing morning at a French cafe. In my blissful daze I hear an older British couple discussing the meal they just ate. The woman summed it up with very British, very stodgy, "Well that was rather pleasant." It was funnier if you actually heard her say it. But as I was chuckling to myself I realized that she pretty much summed up my stay in Sydney. Rather pleasant, indeed!
So next stop: Cairns, Australia. Talking to the backpackers in Sydney I'm a little less excited about Cairns that I was a week ago. It sounds like the city isn't all that great and the surfing is basically non-existent (the barrier reef kills pretty much any wave activity and the pleasant box jelly fish hang out along the coast). But I can't wait to go diving. I'm heading out on a three day diving trip bright and early tomorrow morning.
I've got a bunch of pictures and some stories from Sydney that I'd love to share, provided I can find some free. After the dive trip I'll see if I can get my act together. :)
Friday, September 15, 2006
I'm Lovin' It (September 15th, 2006)
I've finally found a reason to visit McDonald's. I can't even remember the last time I've been in one, it's been a while. But McDonald's offers wireless Internet and I have some pictures I want to upload. I stopped by the enticing named "Internet Everywhere" first, but sadly, they don't offer wireless. They do, however, offer a surprisingly complicated pricing scheme. Their pricing info reads something like: "Spend 50 cents or more and you'll only pay $3 an hour; spend at least 3 dollars or more and you'll only pay $2 an hour; spend at least 5 dollars and you'll only pay $1 an hour!" I'm still not sure how much an hour costs.
Ah, but as I'm sitting here uploading pictures (or attempting to upload, I guess), McDonald's is doing what it does best: delivering poor quality content. My 30 minutes for $8 was a little steep, but would have been worth it to get my pictures uploaded. However, I've got about 10 minutes left and I've only successfully uploaded 1 picture. I'm lovin' it!
I've finally found a reason to visit McDonald's. I can't even remember the last time I've been in one, it's been a while. But McDonald's offers wireless Internet and I have some pictures I want to upload. I stopped by the enticing named "Internet Everywhere" first, but sadly, they don't offer wireless. They do, however, offer a surprisingly complicated pricing scheme. Their pricing info reads something like: "Spend 50 cents or more and you'll only pay $3 an hour; spend at least 3 dollars or more and you'll only pay $2 an hour; spend at least 5 dollars and you'll only pay $1 an hour!" I'm still not sure how much an hour costs.
Ah, but as I'm sitting here uploading pictures (or attempting to upload, I guess), McDonald's is doing what it does best: delivering poor quality content. My 30 minutes for $8 was a little steep, but would have been worth it to get my pictures uploaded. However, I've got about 10 minutes left and I've only successfully uploaded 1 picture. I'm lovin' it!
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
First Impressions (September 14th, 2006)
Sitting in the back of an airport shuttle, haphazardly wandering toward my hostel, I realized that Sydney is, in fact, a very large city. It's a bit of a shock to the system after six weeks in a town of 8000 permanent residents. I was tempted to write Sydney off as yet another big city, but after just one night in the city I can already tell I'm going to like it here. Some things I've discovered:
Darling Harbor is a great place to spend an evening. As odd as it sounds, they have really cool water fountains. I took two complete loops around the harbor and found myself staring blankly at the water displays both times.
I found out that Australia does have a great beer, Victoria Bitter (and no, I haven't seen any Fosters yet).
And I just realized that this is my first time alone in a hostel. The place I'm staying is massive and is absolutely packed with people like me. I'm a little torn because they've got a really nice bar here where you can hang out with travelers from all over the world. But I'd also like to find some local spots and, you know, maybe meet an Australian. :) I've got a few nights though, I guess I can have both.
The hostel is offering a free walking tour of Sydney today, it should be a good way to meet the city properly. And I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt for the first time in nearly two months, so I'm already happy this morning.
Sitting in the back of an airport shuttle, haphazardly wandering toward my hostel, I realized that Sydney is, in fact, a very large city. It's a bit of a shock to the system after six weeks in a town of 8000 permanent residents. I was tempted to write Sydney off as yet another big city, but after just one night in the city I can already tell I'm going to like it here. Some things I've discovered:
Darling Harbor is a great place to spend an evening. As odd as it sounds, they have really cool water fountains. I took two complete loops around the harbor and found myself staring blankly at the water displays both times.
I found out that Australia does have a great beer, Victoria Bitter (and no, I haven't seen any Fosters yet).
And I just realized that this is my first time alone in a hostel. The place I'm staying is massive and is absolutely packed with people like me. I'm a little torn because they've got a really nice bar here where you can hang out with travelers from all over the world. But I'd also like to find some local spots and, you know, maybe meet an Australian. :) I've got a few nights though, I guess I can have both.
The hostel is offering a free walking tour of Sydney today, it should be a good way to meet the city properly. And I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt for the first time in nearly two months, so I'm already happy this morning.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Stay Classy, Queenstown (September 13th, 2006)
So it's finally starting to feel like things are coming to an end. Which is good, cause I'm about to hop on a plane to Sydney. Pretty much everyone else in my course packed up and left two days ago. It was a little strange and a little sad to say goodbye, but with new friends all around the world I guess I have even more reasons to keep traveling. I don't have much time, so how about some odds and ends from around New Zealand?
With no one around and nothing to do I was finally able to take a hike up Queenstown hill. It's a great hike with fantastic 360 degree views from the top. I've got a few pictures up if you follow the image above.
After an action packed weekend I decided it was time to kick it down a notch yesterday. A relaxing, two hour cruise on Milford Sound sounded like a a nice way wrap my trip up. However, the sound is kind of in the middle of nowhere; it's a 5 hour drive from Queenstown. I thought I was going to be clever and get a flight back from Milford Sound (saving me 4 hours), but due to some technical issues (i.e. the woman booking my trip had no idea what she was doing) I ended up getting the full 13 hour experience.
The drive out there was actually quite nice. I learned all sorts of fun facts about New Zealand, too. For example, there are about 4 million people and 45 million sheep (or as our driver said, "over 20 sheep for every New Zealand man!"). Farming is big deal in New Zealand and the three most farmed animals are sheep, cattle, and (surprisingly) deer. We drove past a few deer farms and it was strange to see deer packed up, grazing in fields. To get the complete New Zealand experience I even tried some venison sausage for dinner. It was fresh from a neighboring farm and was extremely meaty. Probably the meatiest things I've tried. It was a little overwhelming, but worth a try.
But back to Milford Sound. Despite spending 10 hours in a bus, I think the trip was worth it. Seeing mountain peaks rise straight up out of the water, reaching several thousand feet was unreal. I took a bunch of pictures, and it's late so instead of writing about everything we did I'm just going to point you to them. When I get some free time I'll give a nice running commentary too, there's a few good stories there.
The latest local saying that has been causing me problems is "You alright?" This seems to be a common way to greet friends, so it's something I didn't notice much at first. But now when ever I see anyone it's always, "You alright, Colin?" And it's even worse when they say it as a statement, instead of a question. Several times in the last week I've walked into the common room to be greeted with, "You're alright, Colin." Invariably I skip a beat as my mind checks to make sure I'm not bleeding or missing any limbs.
Also, "tea" is the most ambiguous word in the English (UK) language. As far as I can tell, tea can mean: tea, coffee, a specific afternoon meal that goes with tea, lunch or dinner. Additionally, sometimes they say dinner when they mean lunch. It's always a surprise to what ends up on the table when someone says, "I'm just going to make some tea."
And my most random story of the trip so far: the last time I was in Phoenix, Luke, one of my most favorite cousins in the world, was showing off his most recent superhero cartoon, "The Adventure of Captain Underpants!" An interesting idea, to say the least. On the way to Milford Sound we stopped in Te Anau, the tramping capital of New Zealand (tramping is a fun word, sounds a little dirtier than backpacking). Anyway, I walked into the post office / stationary store and what do I stumble across? Captain Underpants! Complete with action figurine. Weird.
What else... Oh yes, be careful what you wish for. A good friend of mine, Guy, has been saying for weeks how he can't wait for the course to end so he can attempt some ridiculous jumps on Coronet Peak. "I'm gonna put some wrist guards on and jump until I break something!" he's boasted on more than one occasion. A mere three days after the course he made good on his promise, shattering his wrist on the largest kicker on Coronet Peak (while wearing wrist guards, even). Seems like a unique souvenir, I guess. Except that he was supposed to spend the next 6 months in northern New Zealand, interning on a farm. It's going to be hard to do much farm work with one good arm, so he's been forced to reexamine his plans. Hopefully he can join the farm after recovering, but he may be forced to abandon his plans altogether and head back home a year earlier than originally planned.
And that's pretty much life down here in New Zealand. As I've mentioned several times, I can't wait to find some sun. I haven't been snowboarding since Friday and my body is having a hard time justifying living in a cold, barely heated house for no apparent reason. Until then!
So it's finally starting to feel like things are coming to an end. Which is good, cause I'm about to hop on a plane to Sydney. Pretty much everyone else in my course packed up and left two days ago. It was a little strange and a little sad to say goodbye, but with new friends all around the world I guess I have even more reasons to keep traveling. I don't have much time, so how about some odds and ends from around New Zealand?
With no one around and nothing to do I was finally able to take a hike up Queenstown hill. It's a great hike with fantastic 360 degree views from the top. I've got a few pictures up if you follow the image above.
After an action packed weekend I decided it was time to kick it down a notch yesterday. A relaxing, two hour cruise on Milford Sound sounded like a a nice way wrap my trip up. However, the sound is kind of in the middle of nowhere; it's a 5 hour drive from Queenstown. I thought I was going to be clever and get a flight back from Milford Sound (saving me 4 hours), but due to some technical issues (i.e. the woman booking my trip had no idea what she was doing) I ended up getting the full 13 hour experience.
The drive out there was actually quite nice. I learned all sorts of fun facts about New Zealand, too. For example, there are about 4 million people and 45 million sheep (or as our driver said, "over 20 sheep for every New Zealand man!"). Farming is big deal in New Zealand and the three most farmed animals are sheep, cattle, and (surprisingly) deer. We drove past a few deer farms and it was strange to see deer packed up, grazing in fields. To get the complete New Zealand experience I even tried some venison sausage for dinner. It was fresh from a neighboring farm and was extremely meaty. Probably the meatiest things I've tried. It was a little overwhelming, but worth a try.
But back to Milford Sound. Despite spending 10 hours in a bus, I think the trip was worth it. Seeing mountain peaks rise straight up out of the water, reaching several thousand feet was unreal. I took a bunch of pictures, and it's late so instead of writing about everything we did I'm just going to point you to them. When I get some free time I'll give a nice running commentary too, there's a few good stories there.
The latest local saying that has been causing me problems is "You alright?" This seems to be a common way to greet friends, so it's something I didn't notice much at first. But now when ever I see anyone it's always, "You alright, Colin?" And it's even worse when they say it as a statement, instead of a question. Several times in the last week I've walked into the common room to be greeted with, "You're alright, Colin." Invariably I skip a beat as my mind checks to make sure I'm not bleeding or missing any limbs.
Also, "tea" is the most ambiguous word in the English (UK) language. As far as I can tell, tea can mean: tea, coffee, a specific afternoon meal that goes with tea, lunch or dinner. Additionally, sometimes they say dinner when they mean lunch. It's always a surprise to what ends up on the table when someone says, "I'm just going to make some tea."
And my most random story of the trip so far: the last time I was in Phoenix, Luke, one of my most favorite cousins in the world, was showing off his most recent superhero cartoon, "The Adventure of Captain Underpants!" An interesting idea, to say the least. On the way to Milford Sound we stopped in Te Anau, the tramping capital of New Zealand (tramping is a fun word, sounds a little dirtier than backpacking). Anyway, I walked into the post office / stationary store and what do I stumble across? Captain Underpants! Complete with action figurine. Weird.
What else... Oh yes, be careful what you wish for. A good friend of mine, Guy, has been saying for weeks how he can't wait for the course to end so he can attempt some ridiculous jumps on Coronet Peak. "I'm gonna put some wrist guards on and jump until I break something!" he's boasted on more than one occasion. A mere three days after the course he made good on his promise, shattering his wrist on the largest kicker on Coronet Peak (while wearing wrist guards, even). Seems like a unique souvenir, I guess. Except that he was supposed to spend the next 6 months in northern New Zealand, interning on a farm. It's going to be hard to do much farm work with one good arm, so he's been forced to reexamine his plans. Hopefully he can join the farm after recovering, but he may be forced to abandon his plans altogether and head back home a year earlier than originally planned.
And that's pretty much life down here in New Zealand. As I've mentioned several times, I can't wait to find some sun. I haven't been snowboarding since Friday and my body is having a hard time justifying living in a cold, barely heated house for no apparent reason. Until then!
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Free-falling! (September 10th, 2006)
So what's left after jumping from 134 and 440 feet? How about jumping from 12,000 feet? It seemed like a logical step, as well as a great finale for my weekend of celebration. However, I woke up this morning with my stomach turning. In my mind I kept imagining dangling from the side of an airplane, staring down at nothing. I spent the entire morning doing anything possible to avoid thinking about the jump, but finally the time came to head over to drop zone. We started by watching a DVD of previous jumpers and strangely, as soon as I saw them jumping I knew everything would be okay. Everyone looked so happy, it looked like it was impossible not to have fun.
The whole event went off without a problem. Sure, my insides were all tied up in knots as 10 of us stacked up inside an impossibly small plane, my face pressed up against the glass panel that would slide back once we hit 12,000 feet. But unlike bungy jumping, you don't have to do much. Your master diver directs you around and basically pushes you through the door. All you need to do is attempt to smile so the pictures don't look too strange (sadly, I failed that task).
I splurged for the photo/DVD combo pack too, so you can see some pictures over here. I really like my inability to control my facial muscles as I'm dangling out the side of the plane, the "look out I might lose my lunch" expression as we started falling, and me being way too excited about holding the camera man's hand in flight.
I went into the whole experience thinking "make sure you enjoy every second, this is a once in a life time opportunity!" I definitely enjoyed the whole thing, but I'm not sure it was actually a "once in a lifetime" thing. I may be up there again someday. But for now I'm happy to have both feet planted firmly on the ground. I've accomplished everything I wanted to do here in New Zealand. And although I'm starting to feel a little sad about leaving, I can't wait to see Australia!
So what's left after jumping from 134 and 440 feet? How about jumping from 12,000 feet? It seemed like a logical step, as well as a great finale for my weekend of celebration. However, I woke up this morning with my stomach turning. In my mind I kept imagining dangling from the side of an airplane, staring down at nothing. I spent the entire morning doing anything possible to avoid thinking about the jump, but finally the time came to head over to drop zone. We started by watching a DVD of previous jumpers and strangely, as soon as I saw them jumping I knew everything would be okay. Everyone looked so happy, it looked like it was impossible not to have fun.
The whole event went off without a problem. Sure, my insides were all tied up in knots as 10 of us stacked up inside an impossibly small plane, my face pressed up against the glass panel that would slide back once we hit 12,000 feet. But unlike bungy jumping, you don't have to do much. Your master diver directs you around and basically pushes you through the door. All you need to do is attempt to smile so the pictures don't look too strange (sadly, I failed that task).
I splurged for the photo/DVD combo pack too, so you can see some pictures over here. I really like my inability to control my facial muscles as I'm dangling out the side of the plane, the "look out I might lose my lunch" expression as we started falling, and me being way too excited about holding the camera man's hand in flight.
I went into the whole experience thinking "make sure you enjoy every second, this is a once in a life time opportunity!" I definitely enjoyed the whole thing, but I'm not sure it was actually a "once in a lifetime" thing. I may be up there again someday. But for now I'm happy to have both feet planted firmly on the ground. I've accomplished everything I wanted to do here in New Zealand. And although I'm starting to feel a little sad about leaving, I can't wait to see Australia!
Sweet As! (September 9, 2006)
Where to start? The picture covers the important bits; I'm officially qualified as a New Zealand Stage One snowboard instructor. In all honestly, this last week has had it's fill of ups and downs and it feels great to have it all finished. The mountain didn't deal us any favors, either. It rained Monday and Tuesday and my snow gear didn't fully recover until Friday. On Wednesday and Thursday we were treated to solid ice in the morning and thick, sunny slush in afternoon. And on Friday a nice cloud layer settled in; the reduced visibility made our final exam a little more stressful than it needed to be.
But I did well this week. After I finished up the last bits on Friday I went home happy. We wouldn't know our results for another five hours, but I knew I did as well as I could have through the week. I wasn't 100% sure I passed, but I knew I gave it my best.
However, the last thing on my mind right now is snowboarding. For the last six weeks I've spent pretty much every waking moment snowboarding, talking about snowboarding or thinking about snowboarding. I stored my board away Friday afternoon and don't intend to stand on it again. Instead, I've been focusing on celebration.
So how does your average snowboard instructor celebrate? After our award ceremony we all went out for a few drinks. There's also this strange tradition where all of the new instructors take a jump in lake Wanaka. When we wandered over there at 11:45pm it was roughly 0 degrees Celsius and the lake wasn't much warmer. After discussing the options with my fellow boarder Stijn, I was convinced to take a dive and came out a little colder, but very happy (thankfully those pictures are really dark...).
I didn't stay out too late though, as I had more antics planned for Saturday (and standing in bar with wet, freezing cold boxers on is about as much fun as it sounds). I was booked for not one, but two bungy jumps! As a first time jumper I wasn't really sure what to expect, but I was trying not to think about anything too much. Saturday started with a drive to a Kawarau bridge, the first commercial bungy site opened (in 1988). I had convinced myself that a 134 foot jump is not impossible, but once I actually saw the bridge I knew there was no way I'd willingly jump off it.
I walked onto the bridge and told the operator that I needed some time to consider my options. He seemed to understand and said, "No worries, why don't we just get your harness on and you can think about things." No harm in that, so I slowly pulled the gear on. "Why don't you come sit down here?" he suggested. It seemed a little closer to the edge than I wanted to be but my legs weren't working very well at this point and sitting sounded like a good idea. As I'm sitting down he started wrapping something around my leg. "Wait, I'm not quite ready," I told him, hearing an unsettled sense of urgency in my voice. He nodded, laughed and kept moving forward.
Somehow I found my self standing up and moving toward a very small and very unstable looking ledge. I took one look down, saw the river flowing 134 feet below and immediately sat back down. "I just need to think about this for a minute." Everything seemed to be moving took quickly. Just a minute ago I was arriving at the bridge, convinced I wasn't going to jump. Now I was fully strapped in, standing inches away from the edge. "The longer you wait, the harder it gets," he responded. Somehow that convinced me to stand up again. But still, standing over the edge, I knew there was no was I could jump off. Suddenly he started counting down, "5, 4, 3, 2, 1" and for just a split second I was able to forget where I was and what I was doing, and I jumped.
As soon as my feet left the platform everything changed. I can't come close to describing the feeling, but I loved every last second of it. I screamed, I yelled, I grinned like an idiot. My hands splashed into the river, I bounced around, and I could feel the adrenaline kicking in. I conquered -- at least temporarily -- a very strong, innate fear of heights and I felt fantastic!
But that wasn't the end of my day. For some reason I'd signed up for a second jump at the Nevis Highwire site. As I mentioned, the Kawarau bridge is famous because it was the first commercial site opened. Nevis, opened in 1999, is famous because it's one of the highest free-falls in the world. A 440 foot drop, each jumper is treated to over eight seconds of free-fall. Eight seconds doesn't sound like that much time, but count it out in your head. Now imagine falling the entire time.
I joined up with a few friends (Stijn, Sophie and Chris) for the main event. After an incredibly steep drive up to the absolute middle of nowhere we finally laid eyes on the jump site. It's really a surreal set up all together, which probably makes the jump a little easier. And after the Kawarau jump I knew that, despite the fear, the fall was actually fun so I felt a little more confident as we were ferried out to the platform on a tiny gondola. Actually, I think the gondola ride was the scariest part. It's a tiny little thing with a grated floor so you can see straight down below you as you slowly crawl away from the canyon wall.
Anyway, despite looking a little concerned before the jump, I was a very happy camper as I was pulled back in. And with that, I was done. It's strange, the feeling I felt while falling was unlike anything I've ever felt before. I absolutely loved it. Yet, I don't really remember what the feeling is and obviously can't explain the feeling to anyone else. I guess that why they get repeat customers. The fear as you stand on the edge of nothingness, peering down hundreds of feet, is almost incapacitating. Yet the euphoria you feel the split second you jump off is absolutely overwhelming. I still get both nervous and excited just thinking about it.
And I opted for the DVD pack, so I can relive the jumps whenever I want to (I've already watched them three times today). I'll try to get them online at some point, but if that doesn't work out I'll just carry the DVD on me at all times. If you run into me we can have a little sit down and I'll tell you all about it. :)
Where to start? The picture covers the important bits; I'm officially qualified as a New Zealand Stage One snowboard instructor. In all honestly, this last week has had it's fill of ups and downs and it feels great to have it all finished. The mountain didn't deal us any favors, either. It rained Monday and Tuesday and my snow gear didn't fully recover until Friday. On Wednesday and Thursday we were treated to solid ice in the morning and thick, sunny slush in afternoon. And on Friday a nice cloud layer settled in; the reduced visibility made our final exam a little more stressful than it needed to be.
But I did well this week. After I finished up the last bits on Friday I went home happy. We wouldn't know our results for another five hours, but I knew I did as well as I could have through the week. I wasn't 100% sure I passed, but I knew I gave it my best.
However, the last thing on my mind right now is snowboarding. For the last six weeks I've spent pretty much every waking moment snowboarding, talking about snowboarding or thinking about snowboarding. I stored my board away Friday afternoon and don't intend to stand on it again. Instead, I've been focusing on celebration.
So how does your average snowboard instructor celebrate? After our award ceremony we all went out for a few drinks. There's also this strange tradition where all of the new instructors take a jump in lake Wanaka. When we wandered over there at 11:45pm it was roughly 0 degrees Celsius and the lake wasn't much warmer. After discussing the options with my fellow boarder Stijn, I was convinced to take a dive and came out a little colder, but very happy (thankfully those pictures are really dark...).
I didn't stay out too late though, as I had more antics planned for Saturday (and standing in bar with wet, freezing cold boxers on is about as much fun as it sounds). I was booked for not one, but two bungy jumps! As a first time jumper I wasn't really sure what to expect, but I was trying not to think about anything too much. Saturday started with a drive to a Kawarau bridge, the first commercial bungy site opened (in 1988). I had convinced myself that a 134 foot jump is not impossible, but once I actually saw the bridge I knew there was no way I'd willingly jump off it.
I walked onto the bridge and told the operator that I needed some time to consider my options. He seemed to understand and said, "No worries, why don't we just get your harness on and you can think about things." No harm in that, so I slowly pulled the gear on. "Why don't you come sit down here?" he suggested. It seemed a little closer to the edge than I wanted to be but my legs weren't working very well at this point and sitting sounded like a good idea. As I'm sitting down he started wrapping something around my leg. "Wait, I'm not quite ready," I told him, hearing an unsettled sense of urgency in my voice. He nodded, laughed and kept moving forward.
Somehow I found my self standing up and moving toward a very small and very unstable looking ledge. I took one look down, saw the river flowing 134 feet below and immediately sat back down. "I just need to think about this for a minute." Everything seemed to be moving took quickly. Just a minute ago I was arriving at the bridge, convinced I wasn't going to jump. Now I was fully strapped in, standing inches away from the edge. "The longer you wait, the harder it gets," he responded. Somehow that convinced me to stand up again. But still, standing over the edge, I knew there was no was I could jump off. Suddenly he started counting down, "5, 4, 3, 2, 1" and for just a split second I was able to forget where I was and what I was doing, and I jumped.
As soon as my feet left the platform everything changed. I can't come close to describing the feeling, but I loved every last second of it. I screamed, I yelled, I grinned like an idiot. My hands splashed into the river, I bounced around, and I could feel the adrenaline kicking in. I conquered -- at least temporarily -- a very strong, innate fear of heights and I felt fantastic!
But that wasn't the end of my day. For some reason I'd signed up for a second jump at the Nevis Highwire site. As I mentioned, the Kawarau bridge is famous because it was the first commercial site opened. Nevis, opened in 1999, is famous because it's one of the highest free-falls in the world. A 440 foot drop, each jumper is treated to over eight seconds of free-fall. Eight seconds doesn't sound like that much time, but count it out in your head. Now imagine falling the entire time.
I joined up with a few friends (Stijn, Sophie and Chris) for the main event. After an incredibly steep drive up to the absolute middle of nowhere we finally laid eyes on the jump site. It's really a surreal set up all together, which probably makes the jump a little easier. And after the Kawarau jump I knew that, despite the fear, the fall was actually fun so I felt a little more confident as we were ferried out to the platform on a tiny gondola. Actually, I think the gondola ride was the scariest part. It's a tiny little thing with a grated floor so you can see straight down below you as you slowly crawl away from the canyon wall.
Anyway, despite looking a little concerned before the jump, I was a very happy camper as I was pulled back in. And with that, I was done. It's strange, the feeling I felt while falling was unlike anything I've ever felt before. I absolutely loved it. Yet, I don't really remember what the feeling is and obviously can't explain the feeling to anyone else. I guess that why they get repeat customers. The fear as you stand on the edge of nothingness, peering down hundreds of feet, is almost incapacitating. Yet the euphoria you feel the split second you jump off is absolutely overwhelming. I still get both nervous and excited just thinking about it.
And I opted for the DVD pack, so I can relive the jumps whenever I want to (I've already watched them three times today). I'll try to get them online at some point, but if that doesn't work out I'll just carry the DVD on me at all times. If you run into me we can have a little sit down and I'll tell you all about it. :)
Sunday, September 03, 2006
I'm a Tourist! (September 3rd, 2006)
Queenstown is self-described as the adventure capital of New Zealand. Looking through a local guidebook it's easy to create a lengthy list of crazy adventures that you'd like to do some day. That list might look something like: paragliding, bungy jumping, jet boating, and sky diving. The activities are extreme and creating a list doesn't cause too much mental anguish. But eventually "some day" becomes "today" and you're faced with the cold reality of what you're about to be doing. "Wait a second," you remember. "I'm not really fond of heights, maybe just taking in the view from the top of this mountain will be enough for now."
Taking the gondola up Bob's Peak (creative name, huh?) this morning, several thoughts like this started creeping into the corners of my mind. I don't really like heights, and the thought of stepping off terra firma and soaring three to four thousand feet above Queenstown didn't sound as relaxing as I originally imagined. But the weather has been unpredictable lately and the paragliders said they only had a 30 minute window to take off and would probably be closed for the next few days cause of the winds. So I was determined to step off the cliff. As a bonus I was hoping to do it without screaming like a girl.
The flight was awesome! My fear of heights lasted about 2 seconds, but once we were airborne I forgot all about it. The view, the quiet breeze rustling the sail, and the warmth of an unusually hot winter day was all I thought about. We spent the first part of the trip catching thermals off Bob's Peak. Takeoff is at 2500 feet, the thermals can easily push you to 4000 feet (where you're forced to level off to avoid running into planes). Then we slowly circled around Queenstown getting a great 360 degree view of the Southern Alps as we descended. We finished off with some fun banks and rolls. We managed to get our bodies nearly at the same height as the sail! It was a little strange seeing the sail in front of me, not above me where it belongs. But I was busy enjoying the g-forces the moves create.
Today was a great day for being a tourist, and I got my money's worth. In addition to paragliding, I went on a concrete luge (also at the top of Bob's Peak), played in one of the most elaborate putt-putt courses I've ever seen, and took a trip on the Shotover Jet.
The Shotover Jet is a specially designed jet that needs just 5cm of water depth to operate. And operate quickly. We maxed out at about 80kph (around 50mph) and the whole time we were less than two feet from rocky canyon walls. Oh, and the jet can spin a 360 at around 40kph. It was a very wet boat ride, but again, it felt like an authentic Queenstown experience.
I've got 26 photos to prove it all, you can take a peek over here. Sadly, today was my last day of fun for the week. The Stage One starts tomorrow and it's all business until Saturday. The Stage One is the reason I came here and my plans for the winter on contingent on actually getting this certification. It's time to saddle up and kick some ass this week. See you on the other side.
Queenstown is self-described as the adventure capital of New Zealand. Looking through a local guidebook it's easy to create a lengthy list of crazy adventures that you'd like to do some day. That list might look something like: paragliding, bungy jumping, jet boating, and sky diving. The activities are extreme and creating a list doesn't cause too much mental anguish. But eventually "some day" becomes "today" and you're faced with the cold reality of what you're about to be doing. "Wait a second," you remember. "I'm not really fond of heights, maybe just taking in the view from the top of this mountain will be enough for now."
Taking the gondola up Bob's Peak (creative name, huh?) this morning, several thoughts like this started creeping into the corners of my mind. I don't really like heights, and the thought of stepping off terra firma and soaring three to four thousand feet above Queenstown didn't sound as relaxing as I originally imagined. But the weather has been unpredictable lately and the paragliders said they only had a 30 minute window to take off and would probably be closed for the next few days cause of the winds. So I was determined to step off the cliff. As a bonus I was hoping to do it without screaming like a girl.
The flight was awesome! My fear of heights lasted about 2 seconds, but once we were airborne I forgot all about it. The view, the quiet breeze rustling the sail, and the warmth of an unusually hot winter day was all I thought about. We spent the first part of the trip catching thermals off Bob's Peak. Takeoff is at 2500 feet, the thermals can easily push you to 4000 feet (where you're forced to level off to avoid running into planes). Then we slowly circled around Queenstown getting a great 360 degree view of the Southern Alps as we descended. We finished off with some fun banks and rolls. We managed to get our bodies nearly at the same height as the sail! It was a little strange seeing the sail in front of me, not above me where it belongs. But I was busy enjoying the g-forces the moves create.
Today was a great day for being a tourist, and I got my money's worth. In addition to paragliding, I went on a concrete luge (also at the top of Bob's Peak), played in one of the most elaborate putt-putt courses I've ever seen, and took a trip on the Shotover Jet.
The Shotover Jet is a specially designed jet that needs just 5cm of water depth to operate. And operate quickly. We maxed out at about 80kph (around 50mph) and the whole time we were less than two feet from rocky canyon walls. Oh, and the jet can spin a 360 at around 40kph. It was a very wet boat ride, but again, it felt like an authentic Queenstown experience.
I've got 26 photos to prove it all, you can take a peek over here. Sadly, today was my last day of fun for the week. The Stage One starts tomorrow and it's all business until Saturday. The Stage One is the reason I came here and my plans for the winter on contingent on actually getting this certification. It's time to saddle up and kick some ass this week. See you on the other side.
Friday, September 01, 2006
The Fergburger Experience (September 2nd, 2006)
I knew there was a reason I started talking about food in the last post. I just didn't remember why until I sat down to yet another shabby Thai meal for dinner tonight. For those keeping track at home that's three different Thai restaurants and three poor Thai meals. I realized pretty quickly that this most recent place would be subpar, they didn't even have Singha (Thai beer)! In fact, their drink menu consists of water and Coke. You can bring your own bottles of wine in, which they'll graciously uncork for $4.
Oh, another thing I haven't quite figured out yet is the correct end of meal / pay the bill dance. If I walk up to the bar they seem obviously embarrassed that you were forced to come over and ask for a bill. But they don't come anywhere near you as long as you remain seated at your table, leaving you to stare intently at the kitchen door, hoping to catch the eye of a waitress on her way out (and do the little "oh of course I haven't been staring at the door for 5 minutes, but I'm ready for my bill" eyebrow wave).
So what's my latest tactic? When I'm ready to leave I start the "I'm getting ready to go" routine: stand up, go to the bathroom, etc. Invariably, just as I'm slipping my jacket on, the waitress will stroll up with a very smug "wow I'm good; he's getting ready to leave just as I'm bringing the bill over" smile on her face. It's a little bit of routine that I could do without, but did I mention that tipping isn't common down here? Leaving the restaurant knowing you just ate and didn't have to tip still helps dull the pain for a bad meal.
But where was I? Oh yeah, Fergburger. Quite possibly the best burger I've ever eaten. Truthfully, I've only been there twice so far, but I'm fairly certain that each burger takes 10 to 16 months off your life expectancy so I'm eating there sparingly. But listen to the ingredients for the Southern Swine, my favorite so far: prime New Zealand beef, American streaky bacon, lettuce, tomato, red onion, avocado, aioli and tomato relish. Hot damn! And you can see for yourself how big those things are. It's not an endeavors for the feint of heart. I guess the place was a local legend when it first opened; hidden on a side street, customer base growing through word of mouth. However, it was recently relocated and it's now open 22 hours a day (7am - 5am) and any time you go in you'll be faced with at least a 20 minute wait. My first time in there I left the cashier with a receipt that said "#371" on it. They were currently serving order #290. But the wait is well worth it. I've got another night planned with the Ferg' on Friday, assuming the Stage 1 goes well. I'll try to bring my camera this time.
I knew there was a reason I started talking about food in the last post. I just didn't remember why until I sat down to yet another shabby Thai meal for dinner tonight. For those keeping track at home that's three different Thai restaurants and three poor Thai meals. I realized pretty quickly that this most recent place would be subpar, they didn't even have Singha (Thai beer)! In fact, their drink menu consists of water and Coke. You can bring your own bottles of wine in, which they'll graciously uncork for $4.
Oh, another thing I haven't quite figured out yet is the correct end of meal / pay the bill dance. If I walk up to the bar they seem obviously embarrassed that you were forced to come over and ask for a bill. But they don't come anywhere near you as long as you remain seated at your table, leaving you to stare intently at the kitchen door, hoping to catch the eye of a waitress on her way out (and do the little "oh of course I haven't been staring at the door for 5 minutes, but I'm ready for my bill" eyebrow wave).
So what's my latest tactic? When I'm ready to leave I start the "I'm getting ready to go" routine: stand up, go to the bathroom, etc. Invariably, just as I'm slipping my jacket on, the waitress will stroll up with a very smug "wow I'm good; he's getting ready to leave just as I'm bringing the bill over" smile on her face. It's a little bit of routine that I could do without, but did I mention that tipping isn't common down here? Leaving the restaurant knowing you just ate and didn't have to tip still helps dull the pain for a bad meal.
But where was I? Oh yeah, Fergburger. Quite possibly the best burger I've ever eaten. Truthfully, I've only been there twice so far, but I'm fairly certain that each burger takes 10 to 16 months off your life expectancy so I'm eating there sparingly. But listen to the ingredients for the Southern Swine, my favorite so far: prime New Zealand beef, American streaky bacon, lettuce, tomato, red onion, avocado, aioli and tomato relish. Hot damn! And you can see for yourself how big those things are. It's not an endeavors for the feint of heart. I guess the place was a local legend when it first opened; hidden on a side street, customer base growing through word of mouth. However, it was recently relocated and it's now open 22 hours a day (7am - 5am) and any time you go in you'll be faced with at least a 20 minute wait. My first time in there I left the cashier with a receipt that said "#371" on it. They were currently serving order #290. But the wait is well worth it. I've got another night planned with the Ferg' on Friday, assuming the Stage 1 goes well. I'll try to bring my camera this time.
Involuntary Time Off (September 2nd, 2006)
In the not too distance past I mentioned how busy we've been so far, even though we anticipated having up to 4 days a week off. What I would have given for a free day back then. Well, as always, be careful what you wish for. The snow gods must have been listening and in the last week I've been subjected to three unscheduled vacation days. On Tuesday I was too sick to leave bed (though I was able to read through The Grapes of Wrath), on Thursday we took the bus up to Coronet Peak but the mountain was "on hold" due to high winds ("on hold" means the lifts aren't running but the mountain isn't technically closed so they don't have to offer ticket refunds...), and today the mountain was officially shut down all day long due to "gale-force winds." Oh, and rain. There's been a weird weather pattern over the south island for the last 3 days which has caused some very warm weather (a balmy 15 degrees in Queenstown and nearly 10 degrees at Coronet Peak) and extremely strong winds from the north. Any snow that wasn't blown off by the wind was surely destroyed by the downpour today. Everyone is excited to see what the mountain looks like when we head back up there on Monday.
So what have I been doing with all this new found freedom? Sadly, nothing off the list of tourist activities I've been hoping to do. Paragliding? They don't operate in windy conditions either. Bungy jumping? Not in the rain. Instead I've been walking around town, buying souvenirs I don't want and eating food I don't need. In fact, I was excited because I was finally heading down to the Mexican place for dinner. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), two of my roommates went the night before and told me the food was so bad that they each had to send it back. Now I realize that this could be a sign of a good Mexican place, but I'd been sick for a week and didn't feel like tempting fate at that point.
On the flip side, though, when I told them I'd never eaten proper "bangers and mash" before they insisted on cooking for me. Well that's not quite true. I ended up peeling the potatoes (with an old, tiny peeler; I don't know how I didn't cut my knuckles on it), setting the table, and cleaning up after dinner while they sat around and watched The West Wing. But I got a great meal out of it, destroying my theory that all English food is terrible.
In the not too distance past I mentioned how busy we've been so far, even though we anticipated having up to 4 days a week off. What I would have given for a free day back then. Well, as always, be careful what you wish for. The snow gods must have been listening and in the last week I've been subjected to three unscheduled vacation days. On Tuesday I was too sick to leave bed (though I was able to read through The Grapes of Wrath), on Thursday we took the bus up to Coronet Peak but the mountain was "on hold" due to high winds ("on hold" means the lifts aren't running but the mountain isn't technically closed so they don't have to offer ticket refunds...), and today the mountain was officially shut down all day long due to "gale-force winds." Oh, and rain. There's been a weird weather pattern over the south island for the last 3 days which has caused some very warm weather (a balmy 15 degrees in Queenstown and nearly 10 degrees at Coronet Peak) and extremely strong winds from the north. Any snow that wasn't blown off by the wind was surely destroyed by the downpour today. Everyone is excited to see what the mountain looks like when we head back up there on Monday.
So what have I been doing with all this new found freedom? Sadly, nothing off the list of tourist activities I've been hoping to do. Paragliding? They don't operate in windy conditions either. Bungy jumping? Not in the rain. Instead I've been walking around town, buying souvenirs I don't want and eating food I don't need. In fact, I was excited because I was finally heading down to the Mexican place for dinner. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), two of my roommates went the night before and told me the food was so bad that they each had to send it back. Now I realize that this could be a sign of a good Mexican place, but I'd been sick for a week and didn't feel like tempting fate at that point.
On the flip side, though, when I told them I'd never eaten proper "bangers and mash" before they insisted on cooking for me. Well that's not quite true. I ended up peeling the potatoes (with an old, tiny peeler; I don't know how I didn't cut my knuckles on it), setting the table, and cleaning up after dinner while they sat around and watched The West Wing. But I got a great meal out of it, destroying my theory that all English food is terrible.
An Old American Saying (September 1st, 2006)
I was just reminded of an old American adage that goes something like, "Fool me one, shame on me. Fool me — can't get fooled again!" (If you have no idea what I'm talking about I encourage you take a three minute detour to check out this video.)
During the first week of training I made the mistake of keeping my goggles up all afternoon long (one trick we learned as instructors is to take our goggles off while talking so the students can see our eyes. I figured it'd be easier to remember if I just kept them up). I got home and my eyes were itching like they had sand in them. Rubbing my eyes, I walked into the bathroom, looked into the mirror and was greeting by a pair of absolutely bloodshot eyes. The sun wasn't out all that much, so I was a little surprised to see that. But, as has been mentioned several times since, there is basically zero ozone down here, giving the sun a much more dramatic affect than one would expect. My goggles have been on pretty much since them.
Today was a very mild day on the slopes. So mild, in fact, that my goggles were making my forehead sweat. Fortunately that's easy enough to fix, so I popped my goggles up and left them there for the rest of the day. And, predictably, I'm sporting bloodshot eyes again. Can't get fooled again!
We're entering our last weekend before the big daddy, the New Zealand Stage One exam. Our last day of training was today, so we're basically as ready as we're going to be. There's a different feeling this time around (compared to the NZ CSI exam). Going into the CSI I didn't know what to expect and definitely didn't feel prepared to take the exam. "Well, I'll just go in there and do the best I can," I thought as the week got started.
This time around I know pretty much what to expect. More than that, our trainers have definitely given us all the skills and knowledge we need to pass this test. Meaning that the only way I can fail is if I screw up during the exam. Obviously the same "give it your best" attitude is appropriate, but it's nice having some preset excuses to fall back on. I'm afraid I don't have any this time around.
And there's one part of teaching -- "student analysis" -- that can go horribly awry very quickly. When you meet a new class you have just a couple of minutes to figure out what the students know, determine what they want to achieve, and detect what's preventing them from getting there. The detection step is crucial. One slip up there and your entire plan is built around fixing the wrong problems (which translates as an automatic fail). In three of our six practice sessions today the person designated as "teacher" didn't correctly diagnos the students' fault. It's stressful and you don't have much time to get it right. But if I do go on to be an instructor I'll have to do it 6 times a day, so it's obviously a skill that needs to be present.
I was just reminded of an old American adage that goes something like, "Fool me one, shame on me. Fool me — can't get fooled again!" (If you have no idea what I'm talking about I encourage you take a three minute detour to check out this video.)
During the first week of training I made the mistake of keeping my goggles up all afternoon long (one trick we learned as instructors is to take our goggles off while talking so the students can see our eyes. I figured it'd be easier to remember if I just kept them up). I got home and my eyes were itching like they had sand in them. Rubbing my eyes, I walked into the bathroom, looked into the mirror and was greeting by a pair of absolutely bloodshot eyes. The sun wasn't out all that much, so I was a little surprised to see that. But, as has been mentioned several times since, there is basically zero ozone down here, giving the sun a much more dramatic affect than one would expect. My goggles have been on pretty much since them.
Today was a very mild day on the slopes. So mild, in fact, that my goggles were making my forehead sweat. Fortunately that's easy enough to fix, so I popped my goggles up and left them there for the rest of the day. And, predictably, I'm sporting bloodshot eyes again. Can't get fooled again!
We're entering our last weekend before the big daddy, the New Zealand Stage One exam. Our last day of training was today, so we're basically as ready as we're going to be. There's a different feeling this time around (compared to the NZ CSI exam). Going into the CSI I didn't know what to expect and definitely didn't feel prepared to take the exam. "Well, I'll just go in there and do the best I can," I thought as the week got started.
This time around I know pretty much what to expect. More than that, our trainers have definitely given us all the skills and knowledge we need to pass this test. Meaning that the only way I can fail is if I screw up during the exam. Obviously the same "give it your best" attitude is appropriate, but it's nice having some preset excuses to fall back on. I'm afraid I don't have any this time around.
And there's one part of teaching -- "student analysis" -- that can go horribly awry very quickly. When you meet a new class you have just a couple of minutes to figure out what the students know, determine what they want to achieve, and detect what's preventing them from getting there. The detection step is crucial. One slip up there and your entire plan is built around fixing the wrong problems (which translates as an automatic fail). In three of our six practice sessions today the person designated as "teacher" didn't correctly diagnos the students' fault. It's stressful and you don't have much time to get it right. But if I do go on to be an instructor I'll have to do it 6 times a day, so it's obviously a skill that needs to be present.
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