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NEW ZEALAND - Adventures of the one-man recession buster (Sam's Entry)
Ki ora everybody (whilst I wish they still made that fruit squash, I'm referring to the Maori meaning). It's been a long time since me and Dave have spent enough time together to organise an update to our writing. I think that this entry will be a really interesting one because we have been doing completely different things the whole month, and whilst I've probably drawn the short straw I think that it's been well worth it just for the stories I can tell and the chance to have some impressive locations on my CV!
We arrived in Auckland shattered and dragged ourselves moodily round a supermarket to scavenge for dinner before putting ourselves to bed. Little did I anticipate a gang of loud Welshmen bursting into our room, demanding that we represent our country at the nearby bar. The boys were real characters and made me feel a bit of a party pooper sitting there with my blanket doing a crossword. Dave did the sensible thing and immediately told them where they could shove their party, rolling over and succumbing to a deep sleep... I found myself wanting to go out, and said I was in. The stipulation of the group membership, however, was that I joined in with the fancy dress. It was a ladies' night at the club, so women and men dressed as women got free bubbles and shots all night. Cue us throwing away our dignity and walking through central Auckland dressed in strappy tops and sarongs (there were no Welsh flags left so I was given a bright pink dress. Brilliant). Not only were we rightly abused on the way there, but walking into the club I felt my heart drop through my guts as I surveyed the scene; a half-full, modest crowd, dressed normally and staring at us in confusion.
I held my head high and walked to the bar to recieve my free, barely-worth-it drinks, then was gutted to have it explained to me that all crossdressers were expected to dance on stage in order to compete for a $100 bar tab. I immediately went to the bar to calm my nerves several times. One solitary young English man walked in with a bikini, and the challengers were ready - to cut an embarrassing, hazy story short, we danced, it went down with varying degrees of appreciation, then we all won a load of drinks and had an absolutely brilliant night.
In the morning Dave listened to my story and gave a solomn shaking of the head - then we flew to Dunedin, and I was stunned by the feeling of actual cold. Dave's family were waiting in the arrivals lounge and it was great to see everybody so happy at having the Childs back together. Starting to shiver from the cold (it wasn't that cold, but 3 months in the tropics does something to the consistancy of your blood apparently!) we headed back to Sue + Dave's house which is like a mini museum of amazing little artefacts, ancient trinkets, Maori weapons, German beer flasks, and scores of little ticking clocks thanks to Dave's hoarding over the years. Sue cooked us all the first of many great dinners and made me feel at home... and it's really become home in the month we've been here.
Since I had completely run out of money, it was neccessary for me to find a job in order to refuel my funds and be able to continue the adventure. We'd bought a van together, a bright yellow + blue monster converted into a campervan by the Daves which we christened Herbert. Our first day in Dunedin was spent sorting out our ownership and insurance, getting my NZ visa and tax forms away, and fixing up my CV. In the afternoon, Anne and Steve took us for lunch and Dave got an opportunity to wield his brand new, beautiful Canon to take snaps of the old train station and town hall. In contrast, I'd knocked my camera off the bar in Auckland and broke the cover, so it's now battered and needs to be taped up to work. I realised that my poverty must end and went out full of determination to sort my life out.
My experience of finding work at home is that you rarely get called back, nobody has any need for work or room for unexperienced people. In Dunedin, I applied to 15 bars, restaurants and shops, got 2 callbacks and on-the-spot interviews, and two trial shifts which I managed to get the next day! I couldn't believe my luck-and all in spite of rapidly falling ill with fever and bruised ribs (don't ask - I don't remember). My trials went unbelievably well. My first one at the clothes retailer Esprit ended with me making a ridiculously flukey $350 sale with a man who bought everything we pointed to. My boss is a gorgeous and lovely girl called Laura who has somehow made folding clothes and pretending to be interested in people's lives in order to make money fun. I walked straight down the main road to a big alfreso restaurant / bar / club called Craft, where my experience in hospitality was just enough to impress them and keep me on for a horrific 10 hour shift which lasted until 3am! I was ill anyway and just didn't have the stamina for such a hard slog so I collapsed into bed that night, moaning "Here we go again" then went straight back to work in the morning.
Since then everything has blurred into one, and my timeline has gone out of the window. Dave started leaving for days at a time to persue his own personal journey in the South Island, and whilst I havn't really seen it, he assures me it's beautiful. Some of his stories about seeing mountains and trying to climb up a hill and crushing his fingers on falling rocks sounded pretty cool and I was envious that I've lost my adventuring, nomad mentality and replaced it with pressing matters such as which fast food I should get for lunch and which top I should wear to work. I keep myself ticking by trying to find the mundane hilarious. My boss at Esprit has makes me laugh with her strange mishmash of Kiwi dialect and American corny phrases. I've made two good friends at Craft called Tom and Manu - Tom is/was English but has done everything - lived in Mexico, California, Sydney and New Zealand over the years working until his visa runs out. Manu is a Maori boy who grew up on the estates of the infamous gangs (the Mongrel Mob, scarily features in Ross Kemp's "Gangs" documentary) and has taught me a lot about modern Maori culture - they have essentially adopted American black fashion and swagger, with the added traits of Maori generousity, pride and fierce aggressiveness. It's been a real eye-opener to see how real people live, something I've just not stayed anywhere long enough to see since I met An in Vietnam. Kiwis are similar to English people, just different. Often both me and Dave have found on our different paths that we just can't enter a conversation because we can't understand the humour or train of thought. Sometimes I find Kiwis a little brash - I've learned that English people bottle up their feelings and thoughts until out of the offender's earshot, where the famous "Pommie whinging" commences. Not so with Kiwis - I had a woman chase me across the restaurant into the staff area to complain that I'd taken a wine bottle away that still had a sip of wine left. Similarly, if someone thinks you're attractive, they out and say it in front of everyone, leaving the reciever the grim task of dishing out a public rejection. Kiwis also use their debit cards for everything, running every transaction through an 'EPTPOS' machine, even for glasses of coke and chips. They say 'ay?' on the end of every other sentance, say 'how you going' instead of how are you, 'jandles' instead of flip-flops and 'hoons' instead of chavs. Despite coming to love the lingo, I'm abandoning the task of finding an amazing Kiwi wife and running away, because 70 hour weeks just don't allow for such tomfoolery.
The famous 'O Week', Dunedin's massive university fresher's week, came and went with me serving drinks to wasted youngsters every single night, and I caught myself sneering at their immaturity before realising that at some point I'm going to have to stop being an adult with taxes to pay, quotas to make... and be a fresher myself. I'm used to working alongside people who are married and/or have children (is it my age to do all that now???... ahhhhhh!!?) and not bothering to correct people when they assume I'm in my 20s like everyone else. I'm well and truly in the rat race. This week my hours at Esprit were boosted to full time to cover the asst. manager's annual leave so I'm rostered in for a combined 80 hours a week for the next 2 weeks before going back to about 65 afterwards.My only contact with Dave has been the odd night when I turn in early and he's still awake, grunting an acknowledgement before falling asleep - we need an adventure soon! I'm actually adjusting to 5 hours sleep, Red Bull for breakfast and an embarrassing memory of which Sub is Sub of the day, but I should stop complaining. It's self inflicted; I am earning enough to pay for 1 bungee jump every day; and my robotic life won't last too long.
I've had some funny experiences lately - not quite jumping off ships, riding motorbikes and swimming with sharks, but working in another country is an experience I'm still proud of. I learned to fold clothes (I may forget this when home); went on a tour of a local brewery which ended in an extensive tasting session with a load of old men; I've been taught how to succeed when going up to strangers and saying hello and it's injected me with immense confidence with the results; I've made friends and met some hilarious people like one of my managers at the bar who is Chinese and trash-talks in a way that makes me want to wet myself (Im'a waste you, fresh-errr!!!), the bar manager who goes outside and screams like a banshee when he gets stressed, my mate Brenden at Esprit who is one of the funniest people I've ever met, and some of the locals at the bar - particularly James, who talks to himself, maintains an imaginary conversation with you even when you leave the room, gets violently angry unless you give him a reciept for every beer and stares at you constantly like a murderer. But he's apparently harmless.
This is my first night off for 8 days. I'm relishing the fact I had a home-cooked dinner tonight and it doesn't bother me that I'm doing 13 hour days until my birthday, which is on Monday. I'll be spending it at Craft, propping up the bar and eating a good 1/2 kilo Kiwi steak with big Dave, little Dave's cousin Alana, Dave & Sue's Japanese exchange student Nozomi, a few randoms from work and a whole load of South Island lager. I also plan to go out on Friday night after work and absolutely destroy Dunedin's bar scene with a hardy mob of workmates. A small gap on early Monday morning before I go to work will be spent with my best mate and his auntie & uncle, which is as good a family gathering as ever. So life isn't bad at all. Happiness is wherever you create it, all over the world. You can just drop out, fit in and start anew. It's been 3 weeks and there are already people who care about me and have been there to take me home in the rain or offer me a place to sleep. I want to be like some of these people one day.
Can being 19 top my 18th year? I think so. Bring on Aoteroa!
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David - New Zealand
Hello All,
A month on since our last blog and we have decided enough is enough, it's time to let you all know what we have been doing in the meantime.
Since our last entry we have arrived in New Zealand and after a very short overnight stay in Auckland we headed down south to Dunedin and to a long awaited family reunion. By the end of Australia i was very much looking forward to seeing familiar faces again, by the time we arrived in Auckland, I was watching the hours tick by with excitement. 3 months on the road has been quite an experience but for me the time had come to have some family around me. I had plenty of them around me upon arrival in Dunedin. Mum and Steve had come over for the start of their 3 week holiday and Auntie Sue and Uncle Dave were right beside them, I was so pleased to be back in the company of them all.
Since then Sam and I have been located in Dunedin and I will be here until late March, then get on the road in our DIY'd van, Herbie the Highlander, so christened due to his Otago colouration, and sample the delights of this majestic country. Our stories since arriving though will be noticably different, mainly due to Sam trooping his way through 2 jobs and 80 hour weeks in a quite heroic effort to gather the funds neccesary for further adventure. I'm real proud of him I am and you all should be too, the lad basically sleeps and works at the moment. It's quite inspiring really, that someone is willing to work so hard and persevere to keep a dream alive, I'm certain that it will pay off for Sam and that come the end of March we will be brothers in arms once again, venturing out on roads unexplored together.
So as previously eluded to my story over the past month has been quite different. I have done a fair amount of travelling in and around Otago, not to mention visiting possibly every free museum/gallery that Dunedin has to offer.
Mum and Steve were here only for the first weekend of our stay in Dunedin and then they left to explore the west coast and other parts of the South Island. It was great to see them, mainly because it meant I could get Mum to buy me plenty of clothes from the Canterbury Shop, a brand I have become ever so fond of. (Please realise this was a joke mother, read the rest of the sentance and then put down the phone from your rage induced shaking hands). We did plenty of cool stuff while they were about, such as visiting the Royal Albatross Colony, Penguin Watching, Dead Penguin Watching and taking on the high and mighty rib challenge at the generously portioned Lone Star eatery.
After Mum and Steve departed on their own journey I got stuck into plenty of Dunedin's sights and attractions, using the first half of the week to stroll around the thoroughly interesting Museums and Gallery's here. Of course I also deemed it neccesary to pay a visit to the cadburys chocolate factory at which I tucked into a bar or two. It was good to have Sam's company early in the week as at this point his work hadn't got into full swing but since that wednesday he has been at it non stop so sightings of the mysterious workaholic have been brief. Reports of him loitering around the Subway in town have been pouring in, confirmation of such activity was achieved earlier today in what was frankly a gushing admittance from a tired man on the Espirit shop floor - menswear.
Later on that week I headed out of town, down to the Taieri river on thursday and up to the peak of Mt Cargill on the friday. The day out on thursday wasn't exactly a success, mainly due to my trek up the river being undertaken just before it started to pour down with rain. I was walking for a solid 30 minutes before it really set in so the walk/run/waddle back to the car was far less amusing for me than it must have been for the riverside residents. The most important thing was to guard my brand new precious slr camera but I'm afraid attempts to do so only made me look stranger as I shuffled along with half my top rolled up in the style of a Pop Diva. I was most relieved to make it back to the safety and warmth of the van and cursed the darn weather (of which I had been warned) all the way back to Ascot Street.
The Friday though was actually excellent, I parked Herbie the Highlander at the base of the hour and a half trek up to the summit of Mt Cargill and took my time enjoying the ascent through fern covered forest. I don't believe I have ever seen such varities of that quite remarkable plant in any one place. On the way up I saw the granite masterpiece of the Organ Pipes, so called because of their completely natural resemblance to . . . Organ Pipes. However the excursion up the face of the granite was marred by a falling slab which crushed a solitary finger, leaving me in a great deal of pain and with a finger resembling a snaggletooth, thankfully the only audience for my severe cursing were the rolling green hills of Dunedin. Traumatised by falling rocks i persevered onwards and upwards and reached the peak in good time, at this point, looking out on a panoramic view of pure beauty I decided a sit down might be in order. I can't emphasise how incredible the view out over the harbour and the city was, that's the kind of view that no photo and no painting can do justice to, somethings are too beautiful for canvas or for print and can only be experienced fully by the naked eye, that's a fact. On a day as fine as it was and with a view so spectacular I couldn't help but just sit and marvel for a good hour or so, time stood still for a little while up there. That night Sam and I went to Carisbrook, the house of pain to watch the painfully underperforming Otago Highlanders get beaten in a scrappy game by the Auckland Blues. The speights eased the hurt of yet another loss.
So the weekend had come already and it was time for me to hop in the van for a trip up to Central Otago and the old Child family home in Alexandra. The scenery of central is so different to coastal Otago, the rugged, windswept coastline giving way to dry, barron desert in Central. That's what is so fascinating about this country, the diversty.
The Saturday was spent enjoying the day with Alana and her friends, having a few drinks and enjoying the 30 plus temperatures. After Almost 4 months of constant sunshine I assumed, wrongly, that no sun cream was needed, unfortunatly this wasn't the case and I was sporting a out of date festive season glow for the next couple of days. This probably wasn't helped by the fact that we started on the beers in mid afternoon and at no point made any real effort to find shade. This as well as the early start was probably responsible for the early finish to the evening!
On the Sunday, Uncle Dave drove up as Alana and friends headed back to Dunedin, a few whiskys and a BBQ later and it was time to crash, ready for the trek through the Mount Aspiring National park the next day. A couple of hours drive away, past Wanaka, and for the latter part on roads unsuitable for any serious speed was the Matukituki Valley, the West Arm, in the shadow of Mt Aspiring and the other famous peaks of the park. The trek through the valley had a very special purpose as we were trekking towards my Grandfather, Peter Child's plaque at the outdoor education centre in the shadow of Aspiring. It was wonderfull to see the plaque and to have walked the same paths that Dad and Peter were so fond of in their days. Peter, in recognition for his love and dedication to the preservation of Mt Aspiring national park had been made an honorary park ranger. He spent years studying every single valley in the park and his work on the wildlife is still being used to this day due to it's extensiveness and quality. It's the opportunity I am having to learn things like this about my family here that has made it very special.
The next day, Uncle Dave and I made our way up to the top of the Old man range, the high hills of Alexandra visible from Dad's old bedroom windows, and a place he was I am told, extremely fond of. It meant a great deal to me that in those couple of days I walked the same paths of my father and grandfather who did so before me. Alexandra is where Aunt and Dad grew up, the house there was built by my Grandfather Peter and Grandma Margeret and so it is a big part of the family history. Having been here before in very different circumstances It was a valuable chance to understand and learn more about Central and their fondness for the region. I left Alexandra that afternoon feeling very content and settled, knowing that I had established a link.
Since coming back from Alexandra I barely touched down in Dunedin, staying around for the Wednesday and Thursday before heading off on the Thursday evening up the east coast towards Christchurch to see Mum and Steve prior to their departure for home. It was my first night sleeping in the van and I was extremely pleased to learn that the travelling values haven't been lost on me during my comfy family stay as I opted to sleep outside a community centre rather than pay a nominal fee for a campsite. I text Aunt suggesting that any early morning Yoga classes might have quite a shock upon arrival on the Saturday morning but luckily no one showed up and I slept in privacy. Mum, Steve and I did a sightseeing tour of Christchurch, going on the tram and the gondola and that was most enjoyable, looking out over the canterbury plains to the distant peaks of the southern alps. It wouldn't have mattered what we did though because after 3 months without having them around, just to spend some time with them was splendid. The time seemed to race away and before long we had finished dinner and with a 4am wake up call it was time for Mum and Steve to catch some sleep. Saying goodbye is something I have got used to whilst travelling, but it's different now, now it feels more like I'm saying see you soon. In small ways, I'm beginning to get ready to go home, that's not to say I want to go home yet, it's just that when the time comes, I think I will be ready.
The following day I had a long roadtrip over to New Zealand's highest peak, Mount Cook. It was a colossus, something of the likes I have never seen before in terms of size. I left at 8 in the morning and didn't get back to Dunedin until 7pm but the day was very well spent. So I am told, it is very rare to get a clear sighting of the peak, as very often it is covered in cloud. The Maori story recalls that the mountain only reveals itself when it feels like doing so, so I felt quite privilaged to have a clear sky and a remarkable view of the towering peak. On my journey back to Dunedin I also stopped to have a look at the Moeraki Boulders, fascinating coastal rocks that are almost perfectly rounded. They have a very strange appearance, looking most out of place but somehow perfectly fitting the space they occupy. So by the time I got back to Dunedin to tuck into the BBQ food on offer I was pretty tired but pleased with my days adventure.
Sunday morning we woke up to Tsunami warnings - the whole east coast of New Zealand had been issued a warning due to the earthquake in Chile. It was very daunting, mainly due to the connotations that word has with the events of 2004. Things stabalised and throughout the day the warnings were gradually reduced but waking up to the reality of natures power was daunting and scary. Uncle Dave and I set to customising the van in the morning, manufacturing sleeping facilities in the back out of a block of timber and other pieces of wood Uncle had spare. At some point during the process, after the oil change the other day and midway through drilling nails through him in order to set up the bed I became very fond of Herbert, selling him might prove difficult now on an emotional level.
That afternoon we headed down to see Stewart and Marie on thier farm, Stewart being Aunt's Cousin so my Second Cousin, I also got to meet thier 4 kids, Megan, Sarah, Amy and Brendon which was good fun. It was interesting on the farm to say the least, with me learning how to milk cows while being drenched in feaces providing much amusement for Stewart and the kids. Adding to this having a sheep make a break for it prior to being shorn by Stewart, running straight for me as I was standing between it and the freedom of the paddock. Like a rabbit I was frozen to the spot and merely had to watch aghast as Stewart wrestled the sheep back up the platform and it's lighter fate.
I also managed to see Grandma Margarets sister and sister's husband husband Joan and Wille who were just as lovely as they were when I was here before. The day was topped off by a family meal in a local pub, which served up portions that only tough farmers could judge edible. I made a good crack at it but after the fish and chips the salad got sadly neglected, leaving Brendon and Stewart amused as they had smashed through a mixed grille plate that quite frankly would have provided a small buffet elsewhere. It was great to see Stewart and Marie again and to meet the kids for the first time properly and hopefully before i leave these parts we might see them again.
Since arriving back I have been getting on the bike, gearing myself up for the 150km 3 day rail trail cycling adventure through central Otago coming up in the next couple of weeks. Aunt's been dishing out the banter because I foolishly made a single misplaced comments regarding sore muscles after my first ride in years the other day. An hour and a half on the bike yesterday went someway towards stemming the flow! Add this to the banter from Alana about my lack of activity on student nights and I'm getting it from all sides at the moment. So basically a drunken 50km bike ride through town at 3am is what's needed.
I could talk at length more about what I have been doing and such but instead I think it's more important to talk about the real reason this land is so dear and special to me. Although I have grown up In England all my life, I still have roots that run very deep here, in this land and with the family on this side of the world. This is without a doubt the most significant and important part of the journey for me, because this is a home away from home, and it is providing me with an opportunity to learn about my father, my grandfather and my grandmother who I knew too little of. To be able to stay with Auntie Sue and Uncle Dave for a good period of time is fantastic as they are always willing to talk with me about the family here and share stories. It's giving me a better sense of my heritage and it's a heritage I am immensely proud of.
The real beauty of family and best friends too is that the bonds don't change, don't alter and don't weaken, so even though you may be miles apart for 7 months or even year after year, the roots you share remain the same. Those are the bonds that make you travel thousands of miles, just to be with someone special to you, those are the bonds that someday will bring you back home too.
Oliver Wendell Holmes once said, "Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave but not our hearts".
I have two beautiful homes and one beautiful family.
Dc
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