Year of the Kiwi

 

…Like my bank account. But hey, what’s the point of living if you ain’t livin’ it up once in a while?

 

 

After my last day of work, I took a long walk around the city just to think. Think about all the time that had passed… what I’ve done, what I haven’t done. Then I thought to myself, let’s do something about these things I haven’t done.

 

 

Dunedin was abuzz the day of the test match between the All Blacks and South Africa. The weather was great, city central was crowded with people from near and far, and club rugby matches were being played all around town.

 

 

A scrum… local homegrown rugby style.

 

 

One of the many banners around town promoting the night’s test match… the first in Dunedin since 2005, and the latest in 100 years. What an event! What a great time to be in Dunedin!

 

 

One of the spectacles of the day was a naked rugby match put on by the Bottom Bus. The Bottom Bus is a tour bus that runs along the bottom part of the South Island… not some touring nudist colony. Though these people sure seem confident being in the nude… and in the cold weather. Confidence.

 

 

My god, that’s a lot of ass cheeks.

 

 

Yeah! Take down that streaker!

 

 

Goodbye sea. I won’t be seeing you for a while.

 

 

The night of the game, I met up with Chris who drove all the way up from Cromwell to watch the game with me. Glad I was able to share my extra ticket with a mate rather than some stranger at the backpackers.

 

 

The Springboks players watch respectfully as the All Blacks perform the powerful Haka, the crowd erupts in cheers.

 

 

I’ve been to quite a few sporting events in New Zealand, and the crowd turnout has usually been a bit disappointing. Not this time… the sell out crowd was electric.

 

 

80 minutes of splendid physical rugby action (though not nearly as physical as last week’s All Blacks win against the Springboks… that was a bloodbath).

 

 

Line out

 

 

Boo. Although the All Blacks played well and victory seemed certain most of the game, the Springboks kept it close and scored a late try with only 7 minutes left. It turned out to be the game winning try The worst part was that at that pivotal moment, a streaker darted out at our end of the field, so most of us were too distracted/entertained to even notice what had just happened. Dan Carter couldn’t respond with drop goal in a hectic final sequence, and it was over. My first All Blacks game… a loss. Oh well, I guess it gives me a reason to come back

 

 

Night out at the Octagon after the game. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quite the party atmosphere it would’ve been had All Blacks won.

 

 

While standing in a queue, a guy from Dominoes walked around selling $5 pizzas. I’ll have one!

 

 

All my stuff in the dorm room packed up and ready to go. Goodbye dorm room.

 

 

Final goodbye to Ben and Katherine. I called their hostel my home the past few months and they certainly made me feel welcome there.

 

 

Goodbye Elm Lodge.

 

 

A crowd gathering at Baldwin Street for the Cadbury Jaffa Race, the biggest event of the Cadbury Chocolate Festival going on that week

 

 

30,000 Jaffas rolling down the STEEPEST STREET IN THE WORLD… down, down, down, down they go.

 

 

So what’s a Jaffa? It’s a Cadbury chocolate covered in a candy shell, almost like a giant M&M. The person holding the ticket for the first Jaffa to reach the bottom of the street got a $1,000 travel voucher. Would’ve been very handy for me.

 

 

Wet and dirty Jaffa’s straight off the street… Yum.

 

 

This is something that’s been going up and up and up, but not likely to be coming down any time soon. Never shall I complain about petrol prices at home again.

 

 

Goodbye Dunedin. Next step… head back to Queenstown. There are a few things I had to take care of.

 

 

Finally taking on the open road again for the first time in over two months, I was in no rush to dart straight to Queenstown. A short drive north took me to the Moeraki Boulders.

 

 

So round, so large, so alien looking.

 

 

I got the red Steinlager jacket as a gift from the guys at Dunedin Wool Dumpers when they learned I had lost mine and was heading to a colder place. True, they stole it from bales of clothes that were being shipped to poor countries, but I really really needed the jacket. Thanks guys.

 

 

Why here?

 

 

Driving back into Central Otago along the Pig Route. One of the reasons I headed to the Moeraki Boulders was to be forced to take another route west. There’s a much shorter route from Dunedin to Queenstown, but I’d been on that many times during my road crew work with Fulton Hogan. How great it feels being on the open road again, driving through the land I love.

 

 

Land caressed by the golden evening sun.

 

 

I stopped in Cromwell for a burger and drink at the Bannockburn just like old times (old being a few months ago). In the morning, Chris gave me a tour of the vineyard he’s managing and showed me the pruning work that must be done in the winter. It was bleak and cold, and looking at the sky, the outlook for the weather in Queenstown didn’t seem too optimistic. Bugger.

 

 

Continuing on to Queenstown, I stopped at the Kawarau Bungy, the world’s first bungy jumping operation. I definitely wanted to do a bungy jump, but was planning to head into town first to sort out accommodation (something I really should’ve booked before since the town is packed with ski bums and families on winter holiday). But as the sky was clearing up overhead, I thought, hell, there’s no time like the present. I’m gonna do it!

 

 

Though the 43 meter Kawarau bungy is THE original bungy, I had no intention of doing a 43 meter bungy… especially when I can do a 134 meter bungy… the Nevis Highwire Bungy.

 

 

A 15 minute bus ride up a private road took us to the jump site above the Nevis River. No gawkers allowed here. If you wanna see it, you gotta do it (or pay $50 to accompany someone, but that’s just lame).

 

 

The jumping pod is suspended by cable above the middle of the river. Fuck it’s far.

 

 

One by one, we jump to our doom.

 

 

Luckily we’re connected to a bungee cord!

 

 

Oh Andy, please don’t fuck this up.

 

 

Shit, looks like I’m the next one up.

 

 

Strap me in.

 

 

Tip toe tip toe tip toe. It didn’t hit me until I was standing there looking over the ledge, facing that dropping feeling in the stomach, fighting every natural instinct to remain on solid ground where it’s safe. Holy crap… I was about to do a bungy jump.

 

 

3… 2… 1…. GO! Now? Yeah, GO! Um… AAAGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

 

 

aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh…………

 

 

…………..

 

 

Unbe-fuckin’-lievable. 8.5 seconds of pure HOLY SHIT!!!

 

 

Eh, that was nothing. Let’s do it again!

 

 

Finally arriving back in Queenstown, there was certainly a different buzz from when I was here a few months ago. It was truly an alpine village now, and the snow covered mountains in the distance looked more splendid than ever.

 

 

The first thing I did was return to Bungi Backpackers, a hostel I had stayed at previously. Many places have been fully booked weeks ahead, but with my boundless luck, there was one bed available. And after shifting some other people around, I was able to have it for 3 nights… should be plenty of time to do the other things I wanted to do.

 

 

…and one of the other things I wanted to do was go skiing. I didn’t know what the best and cheapest option was, but one guy at the hostel told me what he did, and it sure sounded like the most convenient one. I headed into town and purchased the lift pass/rental/transport combo… $132… done. Just pick up my rentals, be outside the door at 7:20 in the morning, and I’m sweet for 7 hours of snow carving pleasure.

 

 

The bus took us up the glorious Crown Range road, a road that connects Queenstown and Wanaka directly, but it’s hardly a shortcut, because it’s so treacherous. I would’ve loved to have driven it myself, but feeling the bus slowly creep up the winding, slick, snowy roads, I was happy to pay the expense to simply go along for the ride.

 

 

Of course they have to have this sign in Japanese. You know those people are notorious for leaving a mess everywhere they go.

 

 

Cardrona Ski Resort. Lucked out on the weather, lucked out on the snow conditions, simply glorious skiing.

 

 

The trails at Cardrona are quite wide and seem to blend into each other, so you can pretty much go anywhere and make up your own trail. A green trail can turn into a black diamond if you decide to (or accidentally) head down an unmarked hill. It’s like a big snowy playground.

 

 

White jagged peaks for as far as the eyes can see in every direction.

 

 

Absolutely stunning

 

 

Standing in the singles line, I never had to wait more than 15 minutes to get onto the lift, even with all the kids here on school holiday.

 

 

That’s not me. I like keeping my feet on the ground. Well, usually.

 

 

Steinlager jacket, free. Speights beanie, free. Gloves, free (some chick at a hostel gave them to me). Track pants, not free (but i’m multifunctioning them, so that almost makes them free). Skiing in the middle of July… Priceless.

 

 

What? What’s this? After coming back from my skiing trip, I thought about the last thing I wanted to do in Queenstown, a skydive. That evening, I asked the receptionist at the hostel for prices and my heart fell to my stomach… that much??? I had to think about it over a dinner of fried eggs and toast. True, this is the most expensive place to do a skydive in New Zealand… but it’s also the most spectacular. I came here to live it up, and that’s what I was gonna do!

 

 

There were about a dozen people jumping in our group. Quite a few people can be packed into the small plane, but each jumper needed to be accompanied by their tandem skydive professional and a cameraman if they paid for photos, so only 3 jumpers can be taken up at a time. I was part of the last group, so there was a lot of time to think about what I was about to do. Honestly, I wish I felt at least twinge of fear, because that’s half the thrill of a skydive. Actually, I was more excited about going up in a small plane since I’ve never done that before. But the thought about jumping off the plane at 12,000 feet didn’t bother me at all. Is that healthy?

 

 

Lift off.

 

 

Me with my jumpmaster, Kras. In a tandem skydive, the jumpmaster does all the work, and you pretty much go along for the ride. And what a sweet ride it is.

 

 

Doors open, it’s cold… head back, feet back, banana shape, smile. No worries. Rock back and forth, 3-2-1…

 

 

AAAAGHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Plummeting towards Earth. Strangely, at this altitude, there’s almost no sensation of falling. It just feels like a heavy mass of air pushing up from below and surrounding you. The sound of the wind passing your ears at 200/km an hour is deafening. The scenery, spectacular.

 

 

The curvature of the earth, Lake Wakatipu, snow covered mountains of the Southern Alps and Fiordland in every direction, far as the eye can see. Looking though the goggles, it feels like a picture. It feels like I’m falling into a beautiful photograph. Enjoy the feeling, it doesn’t last.

 

 

Pure bliss.

 

 

After an incredible 45 second free fall, a slight jerk, I can hear again, it’s eerily quiet, Kras asks how I feel. I feel great… absolutely great. He does some spiral maneuvers and I finally feel a little rolling in the stomach. It’s a good feeling though so I ask him to do it again. I’m on a roller coaster in the sky.

 

 

A few magical unforgettable minutes later, we gently land back on earth. Did I ever float back onto earth before. Maybe in a dream. It was such a familiar feeling.

 

 

All I want to do is do it again.

 

 

With all the money being blown on crazy activities, I’ve had to make a few sacrifices. Unfortunately, the easiest thing to cut back on is food expenses… especially with the $3 McDonalds cheeseburger meal.

 

 

Dave, here’s your picture of the new skate park near Queenstown gardens. Not too flash. Certainly not as memorable as the one in Wellington.