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The Great Kiwi Tour
June 20th - july 7th
Oh dear, coming from Malaysia where it was roasting to New Zealand where it is freezing was no fun.
The hostel i had booked in Auckland had me in a little out-house that was just like mount kinabalu all over again.
All it had was a little oil filled heater. So i had it on full blast and was shivering in my bed when a German who had checked in late came in to the room.
"Mein Gott, it is like ze sauna in here!"
and he left the door open and started to open all the windows.
Well, i know now how the Austrians felt now back in 1939.
I must be turning in to a woman, as i was cold all the time. The locals were quite happily sat outside eating and having coffees, most of the workmen were in shorts even.
String vests here i come, not much longer now until i have Farah trousers and velcro hush puppies.
The sky tower was very impressive. you can abseil off it, or walk around a narrow track and hang off the side, but i decided it was too cold (honest, not that i was scared).
Ali, an old friend of my brother's from school who now lives here, came and met me and gave me a tour of the town and took me out to lunch, and later that night it was England playing the All Blacks, so i went down the pub to watch us get hammered.
Next day i picked up my camper van and began my blast around the islands and headed south to the hot springs of Rotarua.
Just as i arrived and got out the van to go see the famous geezer it started lashing it down, and it rained and rained and rained for the next 3 days.
Great.
There was also a severe weather warning issued, and a caution that many of the roads in the south may be closed due to snow.
guess where i was heading...............
At first the novelty of the camper van was all warm and cuddly. it reminded me of family holidays we used to have in the caravan down by the seaside, and rekindled fond memories.
But it soon wore off. having to walk across a field in the freezing cold to have a shower in a room with no heating, then walk back across the field to a van and then take an hour to boil a kettle with no room to swing a mouse, soon lost it's appeal.
i do hope i am not destined to be poor, i have realised that a nice warm 5 star hotel, where you get a little present on your pillow every night when they turn your bed down, as it is clearly too stressfull for me to do it, is much more appealing than peeing in a cold field and then having to build your bed and keep knocking everything over each time you turn around.
The weather started to clear up after the famous glaciers. i had really wanted to do a glacier hike, but it was cloudy and rainy, and figured there was no point doing it unless i enjoyed it, so decided it would have to wait until another time.
the only other option was to wait until the weather cleared, but i would be bored out of my mind.
there is nothing to do of an evening apart from go to the pub, but everything closes at 9 as the towns are mostly empty, and even earlier in some of the one horse towns i stayed at.so i continued south in my van that apppeared to be doing 5 miles to the gallon.
seriously, the Porsche would have used less petrol, all i was doing was filling it up.
As i got to Queenstown, and the southern alps, the skies cleared, and the scenery became unbelievable. i just spent the next few days driving with my mouth wide open, and stopping after every bend for another photo.
At Milford Sound (where captain cook first landed if you would like a piece of history) i took a helicopter out over the Sound, and then up to a glacier in one of the Fiords. It was something i had always wanted to do, and the experience did not dissapoint.
I had a bit of a near miss coming over a mountain pass. i was paying so much attention to trying to open a beer whilst singing to Pat Bennetar (they do a very good classics hits station) that i had not noticed the snow had starting turning to ice.
But luckily my Schumacher skills kicked in.
Actually they had gritted the road.
I was worried for a minute i would have to start fitting the snow chains they gave me.
As i arrived in Queenstown, it was the winter festival celebration night, so we were all treated to a heavily sponsored speach from the Prime Minister, and then a firework display, a couple of which managed to land in the crowd.
As i was stood freezing, trying to guess how many more times she had to say "american express" to get her bonus, a really fit looking bird came up to me and said "hi" as if she knew me.
"i think you are confusing me with some one else" i said taken aback at her familiarity with me.
"no, i am not, i just wondered if you can you give me a cigarette?"
good job i did not have a gun.
Mind you it would have been a toss up between her and the PM on the next Amex mention.
But my "luck" continued with the ladies.
I was in an internet cafe, well, more of a cafe with a pc in the corner and it was full of lunchtime ladies. Old dears waiting for the bingo, parents with kids moaning about their husbands, etc etc.
anyway, the point is it was mostly women.
So as i am sat there with my back to the ladies, i heard a wolf whistle.........
playing it cool i ignored it, then a minute later again it came.
I had a quick glance around and got a bit of a smile off a couple of hotties, and was trying to work out who it came from.
i had jumped to the conclusion that it was obviously for me, from one of my many potential admirers.
So continuing with the coolness and congratulating myself that i "still got it" i was getting ready for my Joey Tribiane "how you doing?".
I faced the room and gave it my best Blue Steele look as i scanned the room for the lucky ladies, and then saw a child run to the corner of the room and shout "look mummy, a bird that whistles!"
The Blue Steele look soon vanished as i squinted to identify a bird cage on the floor in the corner.
Great, it was only a flaming mynah bird that had been doing the whistling.
as Al Murray says, "life is one constant rond of grinding bitter dissapointments"
how true.
Some friends i had met in China had an uncle in Christchurch who had kindly agreed to meet up with me, so once again i was wined and dined.
At Invercargill i sipped a grande latte in what is officially the southernmost starbucks in the world.
what a claim to fame eh? i declined a photo though i know jonnie norman will be lamenting the loss.
The car number plates over here are brilliant. You can have just letters if you want, so you really can have just your name. It seems really weird, you keep looking to try and work out which number they have altered to make it a letter, but they have not.
After the amazement of the West coast, the drive up the east coast was a hard act to follow, but was still enough to stop me from getting bored, seeing sea lions sat on rocks next to the road is not something you see every day.
But then things really did start to look up....................
I had received a mystery email from a couple of girls living in Australia who had seen my travel website and wanted to meet up.............
Game on.
Obviously they are a couple of kinky sexual predators grooming me for some bizarre orgy upon my arrival.
My mind started to go in to turbo drive.
It would be like the scene from Caligua i was thinking as i was licking my lips.
Talk about going "down under"................
The weather held out until i caught the ferry back to the North island, and just as i left a trail of really bad weather followed me but never actually caught up.I had racked up well over 3000 miles in my trusty camper, and was starting to feel it, and was actually looking forward to handing it over towards the end, although i had perfected the art of an almost 360 degree doughnut in it, and getting the back end out on the bends like they do on topgear.
I could have appeared in a scene from Tokyo Drift.
It was rear wheel drive, but had hardly any weight over the axle, so it was just too tempting Only problem was everything would go flying in the back.
My memory is getting worse than ever. When i cleared out the van, i found a load of money off vouchers i had saved for everywhere i had been.
I had also bought a book to read for the flight to sydney, and left it in my luggage which i checked in at the airport.
There really is not much hope for me. As my mum says, if ever there was a war, my brother would be late, and i would be first at the front line, but i would have forgotten my gun.
But it got worse.
Then came the crushing blow from the orgy producers, turns out the girls from Oz are all loved up with boyfriends and actually do just want to meet me and talk about my blogs.
Still, they might be swingers, one lives in hope.............
For my last night i booked in to a hotel in auckland and enjoyed the luxury of an attached bathroom, a real bed, and an ability to turn around without hitting anything.
i can't believe i never saw a Kiwi (the bird) though, and could not find the tattoo shop that i had seen on billy connelly, so i am returning tattooless.
Mother will be pleased.
Last stop......................The land down under...................
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