I Can't Quite Believe What Just Happened

I've been avoiding writing the final entry. But, maybe, just maybe it will give me that sense of closure. See, the reasoning behind not writing the last chapter is because I still have been holding onto the possibility that tomorrow I'll wake up and I'll be back in Ilam. The dishes will be dirty, beer caps will be strewn on the floor, it will most likely be raining, and I will be the happiest person on this Earth.

However, I know it's not the case. Contrary to popular belief, I am a rational being. That and Tommy posted his, which was that first push toward closure I needed.

I suppose, for lack of a better idea, I'll answer the questions suggested for "Returning" under the sub-section "What do I write" in the chapter titled "Journal Requirement" in my Pre-Departure Guide for Students (haha).

How does the media respond to different world events?
Um...don't really feel like answering this one. It doesn't quite fulfill the reflective/closure requirement.

What is the relationship between the US and your host country?
If relationships were to be analogous to food, America would be the side salad/vegetable and New Zealand would be the steak. That is, America isn't loved, but not hated; and it's necessary for the survival of the country. Without America, New Zealand would be incomplete. Obviously this is from a Kiwi perspective. From an American point of view, New Zealand is like that 1/4 teaspoon of salt you put in chocolate chip cookies (America being the cookies). Not at all noticed, tasted or appreciated, but without it, something would be missing (ie, another country supporting our so-called war).

What have you done that has made a significant difference in your life?
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Are you kidding me? Going to New Zealand made a significant difference in my life! But since this is supposed to be my closure...perhaps I should answer this question in a bit more detail.

Before I go into any sort of signficant detail, however, let me just defend my first answer to this question. I feel like a completely different person after coming back. I can't quite put words to it, but I feel different. Believe me.

Now for details.

I've learned how to live in the moment. Knowing that last semester was most likely the only time I could experience that much time in a foreign country, I got used to biting the bullet and doing whatever was thrown at me. I took time to take in all of my surroundings and see as much as the country as possible (without being too touristy of course). I did things I may not have been comfortable doing previously, such as rock climbing every weekend and going on trips with random people. The weekends I did stay indoors and/or Christchurch, I enjoyed for the simple reason that I got to know some great people, and learned to appreciate some down time.

I feel at lot more confident being on my own. Yes, this is the third time I've moved somewhere new in almost as many years, and yes, I knew a couple of people going, but I was far more independent. I had to physically go out and make friends at the beginning. For the first half of the semester, I had to study and learn all by myself, without any help from teachers and peers. I was able to go more than a couple of days without talking to my parents (although, now that I'm back, we talk everyday again!). I had to be able to manage my money in a foreign country, as well as deal with the bureaucracies of two big schools. I had to take care of myself when I was sick, comfort myself when I was heartbroken, and congratulate myself when something went well. Because even though I met some great people, many weren't as close as the friends I have here, and the ones that were, were, well boys. Not exactly the best candidates for cheering up a moody girl!

I actually feel like a real geology student now. Granted, this doesn't have a lot to do with studying abroad per say, but it happened while I was abroad, so I'll count it. Taking three geology classes nearly tripled my knowledge in the field, and helped me to further understand what I want to do with this seemingly broad major. Surprise twist: I ended up loving my geophysics class at the end of the semester. More the technique and and theory behind geophysical exploration than anything. And while it's generally used to find oil and other profitable deposits, it's also used in groundwater surveying and glacial studies. I figure something [environmentally] useful can be done with it-maybe one day I'll be a geophysicist!

I learned a lot about relationships. And yes, I mean the lovey-dovey kind. While it still holds true that many men in the world [in my age bracket] can be complete POS's (take term 1 to be a great example), there also a few decent guys out there. I was lucky to find one.

Other smaller differences include:
-Fish and chips will never be the same to me again.
-I can now go days sleeping on the ground and not showering.
-I continue to say -as after many adjectives.
-I FINALLY LOVE NEU'S CAMPUS!
-Tipping should be outlawed.
-It's ok to only own five shirts.
-Geologists are inherently better at reading maps than the average person.
-Wireless internet is the best thing ever.
-Living with girls is overrated.
-It's hard to be a creative cook.
-It's possible to get sick of Indian/Thai food.
-I am so glad to be back in a real city. But just as sad to not have the beauty of NZ as accessible as it was.
-Utah is still the best place to ski in the entire world.
-Beer should be served in all cinemas. In fact, every movie theater in the US should model themselves after NZ's.
-If you can't find anywhere to sleep, sleep in the van!
-Sometimes you'll get lost doing field work. But it's ok because you will always find your way back. And in the long run, it makes for a funny story.

To answer this question one other way, the most significant thing I did while in New Zealand was spontaneously going on a three-week trip with three boys I had never before met. Carsten, Tommy and Ryan became my closest friends and the trip was a once in a lifetime adventure. We saw New Zealand the way it is supposed to be seen: on our own time, and our own way. We stopped where we wanted to stop, hiked what we wanted to hike, skipped what we wanted to skip, and ate what we wanted to eat. We stayed extra nights if we felt the need, and left other places early. Being my mother's daughter, I was never one to fly by the seat of my pants, which is exactly what we did. And it. Was. AWESOME! It by far made the most significant difference in my life, because the second half of the semester is a result of meeting those boys. And though we're all far away from each other now, I feel like our friendships will last a lifetime (wa wa corny, I know...but so true!)



Well, there are still a couple of more questions unanswered, however I don't feel the need to go into them. I have basically answered them in the previous ones. And I also feel like I am filling out a survey. Not the mood I was going for.

I'm still not getting that sense of closure I was going for. Who knows if I ever will? I feel like I won't. At least for now. But time is supposed to heal everything, right? It was the most fun I have ever had, and I can't believe it's over. I truely can't. Even now, looking out of my window in Boston, I feel like I can easily walk out my door, and in a couple of seconds be at Tommy's and Carsten's to make dinner and watch Friends. However it's time to move on. So this is it.

Goodbye New Zealand!

What's a Better Way to Put off Studying than Finally Blogging?

Well, so much for the more frequent updates, eh? I just don't think I'm as tuned into this new technology fad as many of my peers seem to be. IE, nearly every other day someone else on facebook has told me [via newsfeed] to read their blog or follow their twitter...as if facebook wasn't enough already! Here's something I should put on my newsfeed: I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR LIFE AS MUCH AS YOU DO! I think that's why I'm having so much trouble taking the time to update. Not only do I not really have the time between studying and adventuring, but if I don't care enough to read about other people's lives, then--perhaps--I don't care to subject people to mine.

But obviously if you're reading this, you do care. And that's great. Haha. I'm not trying to complain, I've just found that I seem to have way more important things to do then sit around and write about myself.

However, this blog is ultimately, an assignment. And supposedly I won't get my grades for this semester if I don't turn something in. Even if it's because I'm studying my ass off (which I pretty much have been!). Apparently being a tad narcissistic from time to time is a wee bit more important to Northeastern than using that extra time to do something meaningful in your respective foreign country.

So here goes: adventure number....hmmmm I lost track ages ago, didn't I? Well, it doesn't matter because I WENT SKIING ON WEDNESDAY! The end.



Kidding, of course. What's an adventure in New Zealand without a little bit of, um, adventure?

From the beginning:

Last Friday was our last day of classes for the semester, and we have had this whole week off to "study" for finals coming up the next two weeks.

Side note, speaking of finals and stuff, here's my map that I turned in from my field trip. I probably won't ever get it back, so I took a picture to remember it by:
ANYWAYS. Gosh I get distracted easily.

This week has been a well deserved break. Our first since, oh yeah, we had three weeks off in the middle of the semester, didn't we? HA! A lot of people decided to go on one last big trip, but I opted out because I have finals next week that I'm not very prepared for. Also, camping and/or hiking in the snow/rain doesn't sound that great to me.

But of course we couldn't stay in Christchurch for three weeks straight, so we decided to go skiing.

We rented the skis on Monday with the intention of going on Tuesday because it was supposed to rain for the rest of the week. I woke up at six in the morning, and I was nearly ready to go when I decided to check the conditions. CLOSED. Luckily, the shop we rented from said we could keep the skis until Thursday morning, but still only be charged for one day.

So I woke up again at six on Wednesday, and checked the conditions right away. Not only was it open, but it was going to be warm too (mid thirties)!

I met up with the rest of the kids I was going with: Tommy, Carsten, Rob and Collins, and we managed to leave Ilam by 7:30 am (by far the earliest I have EVER left to go skiing).

The ride to the bottom of the mountain took about an hour and half. Along the way we had fantastic views of the Southern Alps and other New Zealand specialties:

We got the bottom of the mountain and pulled into the "chain up" car park. We were counting on the little "rent chains here" kiosk to be open, because apparently they were required to get up the mountain. It was not open. We asked around, and finally found out that chains weren't necessary for that day. So back into the van (by the way, this was not the Royal Lounge, this was Rob and Collins' van) and up the mountain we went.

About 100 meters and at least ten minutes later, the van all but stopped going. Looking back, we saw a cloud of black smoke, and looking ahead we saw a few more miles of road left. And it wasn't getting any less steep. Our last choice? Hitchhike up of course!

Collins turned the van around and we went back down to the parking lot. Everyone gathered up their stuff and started looking for rides up. Collins, Carsten and Rob all asked other people who were parked in the lot, while Tommy and I stuck out our thumbs. The first three got rides individually, and Tommy and I were able to snag a ride together with an old man and his 20 year old Subaru.

The ride up was probably (in my mind) the biggest adventure of all. The road up the mountain was a bit more than one lane wide, it was made of mostly dirt with a bit of slush and ice, it had no guard rails whatsoever and at no point were both sides of the road protected (that is, there was always a steep drop off on one or both sides of us). The man that drove us up joked that Americans would never drive up that road. I secretly agreed. I couldn't even look out of the windows. I only took comfort in the fact that this man had been taking his Subaru up that very road for the past twenty years. He knew what he was doing.

After everyone had made it safely up, we went inside to buy our ski tickets. I asked for a student pass and handed them my student ID. They wouldn't accept it! Granted, it was my Northeastern ID, but that was the first time that any place has EVER rejected it as a student ID. I didn't have my Canterbury Card because I NEVER have my Canterbury Card (I only use it to go to the gym, so it sits on my desk, not in my purse) and I have NEVER been told that my NEU ID wouldn't work. So I had to pay twenty-two dollars more for a regular pass. I told the lady that I attended UC, but she said that she had to see my ID, then she told me I could get a refund if I brought my receipt and proof of enrolment with me next time I came. Yeah right.

So I was in a bit of a mood, as you could imagine. Twenty-two dollars is quite a lot of money. It was more than my ski and boot rental! Well, now think of how I felt when I found out that only one lift was open. They should have been giving EVERYONE discounts for that fact alone. Needless to say, I was pissed, but of course it didn't last long. In fact, it didn't last longer than it took to ride up the (admittedly really slow) lift. How could it? I was going skiing!!

And one lift being open ended up being ok because we all got to ski together, even though everyone was at very different levels. It ended up being an excellent day and I'm extremely happy I went despite all of the mishaps (well just one, really). Tommy and I were able to find the same man to drive us back down again, and we made it back to Ilam around 6pm. Pictures:

Bottom of the hill, the lift on the right was the one that was open.
Top of the hill, with the east coast in the back ground (if you look closely, you can see the ocean!).
Tommy and I on the lift.
Tommy going off of a jump. Even though this was only his second time EVER skiing, he was fearless.
The trusty Subaru and the man we drove up with!

I apologize for wrapping this up so quickly, but I really have to study. Enough procrastinating for one day.

Just Wonderful...

And tell me again why these states can't store their own filth?

"EnergySolutions Wins Big with Stimulus Contracts"

I realize that EnergySolutions is out in the middle of nowhere Utah, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it's safe or ok. If Oklahoma and the likes want to create nuclear waste, they should keep it. Just because our neck of the woods could be considered "ugly" , that should not be a good enough reason for waste disposal. Utah was one of the fastest growing states last year, which means that in all likelihood, this area will one day be inhabited.

But the only time Utah citizens think about their children is when it comes to gay rights and re-redistricting schools. Seeing into the future is not a gift most in this great state of Deseret possess.

And no thanks to Obama either on this one. WHERE IS THE PROTEST, PEOPLE?



On a funnier note, my favorite [New Zealand] professor, Sir John Pirker of Biology shed new light on the recycling of paper. We didn't get through his whole section (we have four different profs in this class) so he demonstrated what we should do with the last page of notes: rip it off, crumple it up and throw it away.

"It's not wasteful," he told us, "it's all carbon! If we recycle it, we won't have to plant as many trees! And what do trees do? They suck up carbon! So throw it in the dump and in 20 years (ok more like 200 million) it will turn into coal!"

Sadly, today was his last lecture. So far, two out of three profs in that class have been great. I've never been so interested in biology. It really shows that the professor makes all of the difference (last semester, I didn't go to over 70% of my bio classes because my professor was so incompetent, thanks NEU!).

But I don't enjoy the switching up. I finally get used to the style of one, and next thing I know a new lecturer is in front of class making things confusing as all hell. That's what you get for going to school in a different country, I suppose. The American university system is entirely different from pretty much the rest of the world's. We're in the minority on that one, but I like it so much better.

There's so much I can say on that topic, but alas, I have class to attend (yay for structural geology!). So adios, mis amigos y amores!

Hurry Up! We have a Tide to Catch: In Which We Hike the Abel Tasman Coastal Track

Finally! Something to write about!

Kidding, but actually, not really. I know all of you guys back in boring old US don't really understand this, but it's been pretty boring here too. Fall (or autumn as I'm so often corrected) is officially here. The weather is becoming more hostile everyday and school is regularly busy. The combination of the two [seemingly] warrant lazy weekends--lounging in pajamas all day, baking, watching movies, crafting, etc.

BUT! This past weekend we (as in Tommy, Ryan, Chris and I) decided to get off of our arses and once again explore the country of limitless exploration.

Destination: Abel Tasman National Park, on the northern tip of the South Island.

A mere 7 1/2 hours from Christchurch! Ha! We left Thursday afternoon after lab, (NB: As of last week, I no longer have Friday classes!) and arrived at the Marahau trail head around 11:30 or so (can't quite give an exact time as I had fallen asleep for at least an hour before we got there).

The forecast was dim-- rain ALL OVER the ENTIRE island, but our restless bodies couldn't stay in Christchurch one more weekend. And what's an adventure without the possibilty of severe weather?

And (for once) the forecast was right. Well, for the first night at least. Our original plan was to find a patch of dirt to camp on for the night, but it was absolutely pouring. Luckily, Royale pulled through. Chris and Ryan put the seats down in the front, and Tommy and I put the back seats down. Quite comfy as far as a van goes. Strong winds and sheets of rain kept us all tossing in our sleeping-bags, but we knew this would probably be the worst of it, and better at night than when we were hiking.

We woke up on Friday morning to a crisp, sunny view of Abel Tasman: dense forests lined with pristine beaches. As usual, we took our time waking up, eating, packing our bags, buying hut tickets and didn't start the trail until a bit before noon. To our credit, the guy who sold us our passes said it would only take us about 5 or 6 hours to reach the Bark Bay hut (or final destination for the day).



So we set off and were immediately stunned by the beauty (well, I was at least, but I don't know why the other guys wouldn't be). This was easily the most gorgeous place I have ever been to. And I'm being serious this time.




Most of the first day was spent in what is unmistakeably a rain forest, but the only description I could find says that there are large kunuka trees. I'll call it a rain forest. It had all the beauty of one without the pests (ie, there weren't any mosquitoes the size of your face, and it was lacking in carnivorous plants). Ferns of all shapes and sizes competed with huge trees. Tropical bird calls were often undertoned by the gurgling of a stream or waterfall. And of course there was fungi galore. It was the touch of color the area needed. Every once in a while we would catch a glimpse of the ocean or beach, but for the most part we were in the forest.

As you could probably guess, the hike did not take us five or six hours. It took about seven. And that's excluding our beach stop and our lunch stop. Needless to say, it was dark well before we got to our hut (keep in mind you Northern hemisphere folk that the days are getting shorter here).

Poor Tommy had terrible blisters on his feet and began hiking in flip-flops about halfway through our journey. Once we were going by headlamps, I had to warn him for potential toe stubbers because (Murphy was on his side) his headlamp didn't work either.

However, walking in the dark isn't that bad (Tommy may oppose this view). It was dark, but it wasn't late. We got to our cabin around 7pm. Also, we got to see tons of glow worms along the trail. You would never see them in the day time. Duh.

So we got to Bark Bay hut, made dinner and pretty much passed out by 9pm. We went about 23 km (15 miles) that day and were beat. We also had to wake up early because (drum roll....)we had a tide to catch!

This being a coastal track meant that sometimes we had to hike along the coast. And sometimes the tide is too high for crossing, and sometimes it isn't. Lucky for us, low tide this weekend happened around 8 am and pm. So on Saturday morning, we left Bark Bay around 7 in the morning in order to make it to Tonga beach in time to cross (no way were we hiking in the dark again).
This may, or may not be Tonga Beach. They all look similar. Anyways, for argument's sake, I'll say it is. Of course we made it, and found out once we got there that it's actually possible to cross 3 hours before and after low tide. But getting up early actually worked to our advantage as will be discussed later.
Ze naaatuuuure (as the Germans say) on Tonga was awesome. Especially because we just learned about starfish and mollusks (shell fish). The bird was just funky and the rainbow was, well a rainbow. How can you not take a picture? Especially since it was over a rainforest. Ahh...love it.

After we made it safely across Tonga, we made our way back into the bush.

Just an example of the trail and also why I don't enjoy taking pictures of myself.
Tommy pretending to be a dinosaur (brontosaurus specifically)--in the hopes that we'd see the real thing.

All of a sudden (well, maybe a couple hours after we left the beach) we stumbled upon a lodge. The Awaroa Lodge to be exact. The term lodge is a perfect description. It is a really ritzy hotel including signs urging trampers to "respect the privacy of guests" and to "not walk past guests' doors". We stopped anyways because the boys were really craving something greasy and their tunnel vision only saw the word cafe. Being a lodge, "cafe" meant $15 for a sandwich, and we also couldn't sit in the dining room, we had to sit out in the rain (well, it was more misting, but I like playing the part of the victim). Even though there were no guests in sight. Sigh...

The boys ate their food and we threw our packs back on to finish the rest of the hike to Awaroa hut (not to be confused with lodge).
Hiking across a nameless beach before we got to the lodge. Rain looming in the distance.
Tommy and Ryan hiking up to Awaroa Hut. Our home for Saturday night. We got there around noon, which is good because it almost immediately started pouring.
Ryan watching the tide come in (view from the hut porch).
Playing cards to pass the time. We were the only hikers there for a while, but the hut soon filled up. Included were the requisite Europeans (four or five), a Harvard Med (surgeon) student (this has to be noted because we were talking about who knows what, and I mentioned that I'm going to marry rich--probably a surgeon. So of course this surgeon who lives five minutes away from my school shows up. The boys were all a bit miffed that their wish--bikini-wearing super models-- didn't show up) and an old[er] couple from New Orleans. It rained most of the day and night and again we were really lucky to miss the worst part of the weather.
Tommy, Chris, Ryan and I on Sunday morning, about to cross the estuary.
Leaving Awaroa hut.
Crossing at "low tide". Because it rained so heavily the night before, the estuary never drained out. This is me up to my knees, but the deepest it got was about mid-thigh.
Haha, Tommy didn't want to get his shorts wet.

More fungi.
Good example of the "rain forest".

A really big tree (Tommy's there fore scale).
Being geology nerds and pointing out the vein in the rock.
Not blinking, just squinting.
This is why you wear shoes, boys and girls.
A perfect ending to a perfect weekend in a perfect part of a perfect country. Ha.

We actually hung out on this beach for a while waiting for a water taxi to take us back to the car. Once we got there we pigged on greasy food--even though we only hiked for about two hours--there's nothing like bad food after backpacking, and drove back. Got back to Christchurch around midnight on Monday morning. Good timing!

Stay tuned, more frequent updates to come [hopefully]!

Another Day, Another Year

Well, it's finally happened. I am now one hundred percent officially an adult. None of this "18+" anymore. I can rent a car, control my finances and buy alcohol...what an age.

Despite this milestone, I don't feel any older. Now, I know that everyone asks/gets asked whether or not they feel older on their birthday. And everyone says no, right? Well, last year I didn't say no. It was a big yes. Twenty felt so old! Two decades, twenty years ago, etc...the lingo just creates a sense of a long time. But twenty-one, not so much. Saying "twenty years from now" verses "twenty-one years from now" carries a bigger statement. There's just something about it. And I know of at least one person [my awesome flatmate, Brandy] who agrees. So I'm not alone out there.

It raises the question then, "why twenty-one?" What is so special about this number that opens so many doors for young adults? After all, the age of majority is eighteen. Well, I could turn this into a research paper, or maybe I won't. I'd rather just philosophically discuss the meaning of age, numbers and growing old.

In our [western, developed] society, age is strongly linked with identity. Well, for the first *two decades* at least. How many kids under the age of fourteen or so will say "Oh I'm almost ten," or "I'm six and a half," when asked their age? If my experiences are accurate (and I'd like to think they are), then most kids are as specific as possible in order to be "as old as possible" if you will.

After about fourteen, most kids will just tell you their age, but then there are the milestones to look forward to. The milestones that directly relate to age. Turning sixteen, turning eighteen-- both are HUGE. Something to look forward to. And of course there's twenty-one. The age of all ages. Or so society has made it seem.

But what if there was no such thing as age? What if we didn't keep track of how many years we have been on this Earth (or if we didn't keep track of years at all...but that's another concept entirely)? Many societies don't. And to be quite honest I don't know the real reason why they don't, but if I had to guess, it would be because age doesn't really matter. It is not a survival mechanism. It was probably just something made up to make us as humans feel special, to mark an occasion (or maybe early statisticians wanted to keep track birth/death records? [like I said, not a research paper, just going off of my own thoughts])

And that gets me wondering, if there was no such thing as age, would there such a thing as maturity? Would this song (the inspiration of this post, sorry it's so *immature*) be relevant?


I don't know.

And then there comes a point when age doesn't matter for a while. My guess is that for most Americans it is the day after their twenty first. For me, it was the day after I moved to Christchurch. You realize that there are no more big milestones. You are just in your twenties and that's it. Age starts becoming irrelevant--in your job, in school, in bars, even the age difference amongst friends becomes wider and wider. Remember in middle school when you wouldn't even hang out with seventh graders as an eighth grader, or in high school a senior was looked down upon for dating freshmen?

Soon, you start dreading getting older. It's just a reminder that your body is getting older. Time is moving quicker and things pass by. Instead of saying your almost forty three, you think that you've been forty for the past three years (ahem, Mom). And you don't even want to think about turning fifty.

Note: if I'm offending any of the older readers out there...I'm sorry. It is probably just because I lack the experience and wisdom of old age...

There's that point when age is only a reflection of how you feel. So that makes me twenty one still, my mom is in her mid thirties, and my dad is, well, forty (c'mon, your beard is finally silver, not blond!). And that is, in my opinion, the most important age. When you can decide how old you want to be.

So those are my thoughts on getting older. I had a great birthday, hanging out in the most beautiful place in the world with some amazing people. It wasn't your classic "American" twenty first, but it didn't need to be for me. I think celebrating birthdays is a little silly anyways. Sort of like saying to all of your friends, "Hey, buy me a drink because I was born today! Aren't you happy?"

I now [technically] have nothing to look forward to as far as age is concerned, but I can't wait to get older. I can't wait to see where this life leads me, and look back on all I have done. I can't wait to meet more great people, and watch the ones I know become wiser and extraordinary. I can't wait to be fifty but act like I haven't aged past thirty (if my parents are any indicators [and they should be, I share their genes] I shouldn't have a problem with that one).

I love you all, and wish you an amazing year!

Three Weeks of Wonder

Well, here goes nothing....words can't really describe the adventure I just had. So I'll only write a few. The pictures say more, but still don't quite capture it. My suggestion is to just let your imagination run wild, because we really were traveling in a fantasy land.

On Friday, April 3 Tommy, Carsten, Ryan and I piled into their Toyota Royal Town Ace--she's aptly named the Royale Lounge.

We had four 60-Litre tubs behind the two front seats. One for shoes, one for food, one for group gear (stoves, tarps, etc) and one for anything extra. I sat in the back corner the whole time (where the white pillow is) and I really got to lounge. My feet didn't even reach all the way to the boxes stretched out!
This was my view from the back. In this picture we're just leaving Ilam village. The van looks so clean! Tommy's driving and Carsten is next to him. Tommy is from Illinois and goes to DePauw University. He's majoring in music (hence the guitar) and geology. We went the entire term in three of the same classes and didn't even know it! Carsten is a business major from Germany. He's not a complainer or anything, he's just extremely easily amused. Ryan is from New Jersey but goes to school in Boulder, CO and is becoming an archaeologist. Overall, a very well rounded group.

So anyway, we drove straight to the top of the South Island to catch a 10:30 ferry to the North Island. The ferry ride was about three hours and we sort of slept but were mostly too excited for the adventure.

We got off of the ferry around 2 and drove for about half an hour until we saw a very comfortable looking beach. We laid down the tarp and passed out under beautiful southern hemisphere stars. Imagine our delight when we woke up to this:
Good morning!This was the pathway to the beach.
As beautiful as it was, we decided to keep heading North. We only had six days and wanted to get some tramping in.This is the route we ended up taking (map stolen from Tommy).
Tommy.
Breathtaking NZ scenery.
Look Mom! They have concrete pipe in NZ...it looks pretty good here eh?

We had fantastic weather pretty much the whole time, which is nice because it had been fairly rainy in Christchurch.
Tommy and Ryan standing in front of Lake Taupo. It is NZ's largest lake and was formed by a volcano about 27,000 years ago. The eruption was the world's largest in the last 70,000 years (Mt. St. Helen's spewed 1.2 cubic km of debris in 1980, Taupo spewed 430 cubic km). Needless to say, it's a big lake.

We hung around the town of Taupo for a while, then drove a bit south into Tongariro National Park. It was dark before we found a campsite, so again we found a nice piece of land and went to sleep under the stars. And then we got another great surprise in the morning:
We were camping right near Mt. Ngauruhoe, or Mt. Doom as most people know it.
Campsite.

So then we drove to the town of Whakapapa. Which, by the way, is the best name for a town EVER (wh is pronounced like an "f" in Maori speak...think about it...there you go...bahaha). We bought hut tickets for a track called the Tongariro Northern Circuit. It is a three day, two night walk through the park.

The first day was only going to be a couple hours, so we had lunch near the van before heading out:
Ryan, Carsten and Tommy.

This is Mt. Ruapehu, the most active volcano in the area. The last time it erupted was about two years ago. The mountain was in our sight most of the trip.
On the trail. The mountain to the left is Mt. Tongariro, the oldest and least active volcano.
Where's Mt. Doom?
Finally made it the hut...the boys being boys. Most tracks in NZ have huts that you can stay in for a fee. These ones were 20 dollars a night...it was 15 dollars to camp, so we decided that running water, real beds, stoves and a fire place were worth the ten extra dollars.
The sunset hitting Mt. Doom. This was one view from the hut.

This is Mt. Egmont, about 150 km West of where we were...another active volcano
The kitchen of the hut.
The bedroom.
This is me in front of Mt. Doom on the second day of our tramp. It was the longest day and I believe we clocked in about 19 kms before collapsing in front of the second hut.

Lava fields.
A rare group shot. I look a bit pissed in this picture, but it's mostly due to the sun shining in my eyes(I lost my sunglasses the previous day).
I think we hiked up about a zillion wooden stairs to get to this point. And we didn't even go all of the way up the mountain.
This is abot as close as we got to Mt. Doom. It would have been another three hours to summit it. The sign in the corner is a volcanic gas warning.
We walked across yellow crater, next to Mt. Doom.

Then we came upon Red Crater.

Craters of the Moon lakes.


Taking a break at the lakes, which were (surprisingly) really cold.
Steam vents.
This part of the trail was littered with pumice, a rock so light it floats.
The four of us outside of the second cabin on the third morning. Not the best picture, that's for sure, but to our credit we had just woken up.
I would have loved to see a lahar.
This is the first hut ever built (for tramping purposes) and is now a restored historic site. Unfortunately it started pouring shortly after this picture was taken and I didn't take any more pictures on the trail. It was another long day (16 km) in which we hiked through the bush and next to a beautiful creek.

We got to the van around 3 in the afternoon, peeled off our wet clothes and began driving south to Wellington. It was a bit of disaster and we were all on edge by the time we got to the hostel. But, no matter, we made it safe and sound and the next morning we did laundry and had a lazy day walking around the city:
Look at how happy these two are!
We had to fold our laundry in the parking garage, that's what you get for living out of a van.




Wellington is a pretty neat city.

Our ferry home was set to leave at 8:30 am on April 9, so Wednesday afternoon we started driving out of the city to find somewhere cheaper to stay than a $30 hostel. Turns out, there's not much. After a lot of driving around, I suggested that we go to the dock to see if we could just get onto an earlier ferry.

We parked Royale in the employee parking lot and Ryan and Tommy went to go see if there was anyone around to ask (it was a pretty industrial area). They found someone, and were told it would be fine.

They came back to the car and we decided to go find something to eat before getting on the 2am ferry (it was about 10 at this point). And the car wouldn't start. We waited a bit, and it still wouldn't start. We waited a bit more, and Royale just wasn't starting.

I would like to point out that while Ryan and Carsten thought it was the battery, Tommy and I didn't. The radio would turn on and all of the lights, the windows would go up and down at a normal speed, and the engine wasn't even trying to work. It didn't turn over or anything. But there was no convincing the other two, and either way we needed help. So Tommy called roadside assistance and they said they'd be there in an hour.

Meanwhile, we began unloading the van because the battery is right behind the driver's seat, underneath all of the boxes, and she could have used some reorganization anyway. We got everything out and organized and roadside assistance called back to ask Tommy some questions, walk him through some things like they do when you have a computer problem. The first step was to try to start the car and explain the sound it makes.

She started on the first try. Of course.

It then took Tommy a bit of convincing on his end that we were not pranking roadside assistance, that we really did need help but now we didn't. Eventually they said it was probably a starter problem (NOT THE BATTERY!) and that we should have it looked at. So then we got out of the employee parking lot, had some snacks, and went and got in line for the ferry again.

This time across we actually slept and it was probably one of the deepest sleeps I had all trip.

After crossing the Cook Straight in the dark once again (my only regret), we began driving south. Tommy claimed that he wasn't tired and he just wanted to get a move on, so off we went.
This is our South Island tour.

I don't know how we planned it, but we woke up in another breathtaking part of NZ, the Nelson Lakes Region:
Very beautiful. I think if we had known what it was like, we would have stayed, but Carsten was catching a bus back to Christchurch from Queenstown in a couple of days so we had to keep going.
One of many fush and chups stops. Stretching our legs.
Fox Glacier.
Mt. Cook, NZ's tallest mountain.
Close up of the glacier.

At this point, we decided to find a camping spot. Our original plan was to camp at Matheson Lake because Tommy had a picture of it from ages ago and one his NZ goals was to camp there. However when we got there, it was plastered with no camping signs.

So we found another road towards a beach and headed out. After about 20 minutes of driving through a RAINFOREST we come out onto a beautiful beach. And there was camping, AND it was free (not to mention we were on the beach)! AND check out his view:

Amazing alpine glow on Mt. Cook.

The next day we kept heading south and decided to stop off to check out a glacier up close.
It was super cool.

This is the canyon the glacier resided in as early as 70 years ago.
This is [unfortunately] about as close as we got. I would love love LOVE to go back and actually walk on it.

The next step in our journey was to keep driving all the way to Queenstown, but we stopped for dinner in a town called Wanaka and by the time we were done, we realized that we did not want to drive around another foreign city looking for a hostel at night. So we camped out in a cute little campground outside of Wanaka.
The moon was finally full.
Tommy feeding the ducks the next morning.

So we drove down to Queenstown and got there on Easter Sunday. We had absolutely no idea it was Easter Sunday, and on top of that, Easter is one of the biggest public holidays and Queenstown is the tourist destination of NZ.

Somehow, we found a really cheap hostel right in the heart of downtown. We met up with Brandy, Megan and Bryan and hit the town.
The next day we drove about fifteen minutes outside of Queenstown to do some climbing at the Jardines:

After climbing we found a campsite and dropped the girls off to catch a ride up to Wanaka the next day. We headed back into Queenstown to figure out the rest of our trip.

We decided to book another tramp, called the Routeburn Track. It is a two night, one way track, and the DOC rep told us that transport back to our van shouldn't be a problem so long as we arranged it. So we ran around Queenstown for a couple more hours to get some supplies and drove to a campsite at the head of the track only to remember we forgot to book transport.

"Oh well," we thought "we'll just do it in the morning." That's the thing about flying by the seat of our pants, lots of important things get forgotten. But we had another great campsite and were able to get up in the morning in time to have pancakes before heading back into town to book transport.
When we got back to the DOC, we found out that it was a bit more complicated to get transport than we orginally thought. We could book a bus at the end of the track to take us back to Queenstown, but our van was still a good hour away from that. And there wasn't any way to get there except hitching. It probably would have been possible, but we didn't want to risk it as we really needed to get back to Christchurch the day after. So we decided to just do the first half and walk back. It was absolutely gorgous:

This is where we camped on the first night. The next morning Tommy informed us that there was no way he could hike any farther because he had blisters on both heels that were as big as golf balls. And of course we forgot a first aid kit. So we decided to just head back and get to Christchurch early. After all, we had a lot of work to do before our field trip.

This is right before I ran into a friend from Lewis & Clark I hadn't seen in nearly two years...the world can be so small.
At the end of the trail. This picture is great, check out their faces.

That night we stayed in another campsite outside of Queenstown and headed North the following morning. We camped about halfway there in a town called Fairley. At this point we were all kind of ready to be home, at least for a day.
Here's us looking sad in the Ilam Village parking lot...even though it's completely posed, this is exactly how we all felt--tired, sad and overwhelmed by the van explosion.

We spent a few days in Christchurch unwinding and catching up on email/homework/laundry, and then on the 21st, Tommy and I headed out on our Geology field trip.

The trip was so much fun. We spent eight hours a day hiking around Island Hills, about an hour and half north of Christchurch. Our assignment was to map rock types in the area. At night we stayed in sheep-herder's quarters and got to know other members of the department. Here are a few pictures of the region:
Mapping the Island Hills Syncline (a huge fold in the area). We really lucked out and had wonderful weather the entire time. I couldn't even begin to imagine how awful it would have been if it was rainy.
One arm of the fold.
More people from our group.
The Mandamus River Valley. We ended up mapping the hills across the way too.
The Island Hills Field Station...it's really tiny in this picture, but it's the group of white houses in the center.

We walked in the river most days. All of the Kiwis were making fun of the Americans for trying to keep our feet dry. We soon learned that it's impossible and you just have get wet.

Well, that's about it. I apologize for not giving much more detail than that. It's taken me all day to write this, but email me if you'd like to hear more stories!