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Even though I didn't go skiing, just being in ohakune made me feel like a ski bum.
It was a relatively short and mostly uneventful ride from National Park. I thought I was going to have a nice relaxing evening at the hostel so went into town that afternoon to run errands and attempt to find someone to help fix my busted pannier clip. All the shops were too busy to help but the owner of the hostel was a bike mechanic and helped me secure my pannier with stronger zipties.
I bought some groceries and a tall-boy beer and headed back to the hostel to make myself tea. FYI - "tea" means supper here. That was a tough one to figured out but when I sat to have "tea" with a family and pork chops were placed in front of me it became very clear that a cup of Earl gray wasn't in the picture.
Five hours later I had made some new friends - good-intentioned ski bums that by the looks of it weren't going to make it as far as the toilet the next morning let alone the top of a ski hill. Three kiwis, two frenchies, an ozzy, one tall-boy, a bottle of wine, 1 liter of jagermeister, an arm wrestling match, a mini dance party, tons of laughs and a hellof a lot of testosterone equalled one unexpectedly great night.
The frenchies were probably my favorite. One taught me a new hand shake (the hug) and I made grand plans to meet up with the other in ... the South Island? Oz? Asia? Canada? France?... since we both have plans to travel to all of these places.
I slept in a little the next morning to let the hang over wear off before jumping on my bike for 70 kms.
I found out that I was right, only one person from that night made it skiing the next day. Everyone else blamed it on the jäger. Im testimony that they actually refused to drink it but the jager was so aggressive and demanding that it just wouldn't take no for an answer.
Good times.
- comments
wicked w well _ U + that sketchy group of characters TRULY makes us feel you are in good hands _ LIVE THE LIFE BABE
Z Bahahahaha. Ditto what Wicked said!