Very Cool

Our bus would only take us as far as Franz Joseph so we were forced to spend a night in the tiny west coast town. Little did we know, this town is planted on a valley edge that was/is carved out by a glacier.
Surrounded by a rainforest, we started walking right through the mouth of the glacier towards what looked like a snow capped mountain. A river flowed besides us, silver with a mix of melted ice and rock sediment all washed away by the inevitable melt. As we approached, the air cooled significantly and the snow capped mountain revealed itself as a bluish block of ice, slowly retreating up the side of a mountain.
An Australian couple asked us to take a photo for them. They remembered coming to Franz Joseph glacier some thirty years ago when the spot we were standing on would have been one oversized ice cube. I thought this was very cool.

Sheepish Looks

Queenstown

What do you do when you've been standing on the side of the road with a thumb out for 3 hours and no luck finding a ride? Get a job or a bus ticket would be an obvious answer, but we decided to start walking.
It's a 3 hour car ride from Dunedin to Queenstown. We certainly didn't expect to walk the whole way but we had enough apples and peanut butter to last us a few days if need be. Need not be. Just when I was starting to toy with the idea of sleeping in a sheep barn and turning this estimated 3 hour car ride into a 3 day, poorly planned camping trip, an unmarked, windowless black van pulled over in front of us. Just kidding, it was a sweet old couple named Maryanne and Keith on their way home from visiting their grandson. They owned an orchard a few towns up and offered us a ride as far as they could. They must have seen our bag of apples and thought, "look honey! There's a couple of chaps who must be trying to deliver those apples somewhere. Lets give them a ride." Right you are Maryanne, we need to get these apples to Queenstown! We strung together another ride with a younger guy named Pete on his way home from work and he was kind enough to drop us and our apples in front of a popular burger joint. After what turned into a 10 hour day of standing, walking, sitting and, at times, running, we were keen to sink our teeth into a juicy burger.
Queenstown is a popular destination in New Zealand and recognized around the world as one of the best adventure sport locations in the world. Bungy, skydive, jet boat, heli-ski, and mountain biking. If you seek to get the adrenaline pumping, this is the place to do it. Or, if you don't have $600 to blow in a day, you can play frisbee golf and go for a hike. We chose the latter.

Don't Tell Beryl!

It was fucking awesome.

Southern Hospitality

I knew sheep would be omnipresent here. I knew there would be hills and beaches, seals and the Southern Cross, but no one ever mentioned to me how incredibly hospitable Kiwis were.
Perhaps they pitied me standing on the side of the road with my thumb to the sky holding an insincere smile as best I could. Maybe they saw my collared shirt and combover and thought, "hey, I bet this one doesn't smell as bad as the others. Let's pick 'em up!" Whatever the reason, Kiwis will happily go out if their way to help someone out and show them a good time. And not just in the hitch hiking world either.
For the last nine days or so we've been staying with what we deemed "The Brighton Community." We rented a room for 5 nights in a small seaside community 15 minutes outside of Dunedin. Our host, Jess, only let us stay because she was afraid of the dark and needed someone to watch movies with while her man, (and as we later came to find out is THE man) Gareth was away on a camping trip. We kept telling her that we are only in NZ for a short time and didn't want to spend all our time watching chick flicks but she insisted. Anyway, that's neither here nor there.
Jess was friendly enough to take us out for a night on the town to meet some of her close friends. She introduced us to her friend Keara who lives with Ritchie next door to Barry and Lana who are hosting their son Anthony's good mate Monty. You can see how this might get confusing, hence the title "The Brighton Community."
Keara let us borrow her car and some gear for a camping trip, gave us a lift out of town and made some f*ckin killer hamburgers (I forgot to let you know how delicious those were Keara). Did I mention she spent 6 months biking from India to Ireland?! Kegan and I were humbled. When we picked the car up we met the neighbors, Barry and Lana. The respected patriarch and matriarch of TBC, (The Brighton Community incase you aren't piecing that together) are both quite hilarious and were kind enough to invite us to their St. Pattys Day party. When we showed up at said party we shot the shit with Ritchie who is a decorated couch surfing host and a suspiciously talented percussionist. Thanks for the couch Ritchie!
Now what would a party be without live music? Not a very good one is the right answer. Mr. Monty Bevins, the latest member of TBC, set up shop in the garage and pumped out some really good quality and seemingly right-for-the-occasion tunes till the wee hours. For those of you who know me, I usually don't endorse music unless it's Dispatch, State Radio or the Chadwick Stokes solo album which you should all check out, but it didn't take long for me to become a fan of Monty Bevins and buy a CD. I even volunteered Kegan to make him a website.
Ya we saw sea lions and penguins and surfed and camped and partied and went to a rugby test and a comedy show but to be honest, that's not how I'm going to remember Dunedin. It's all about the people who made it happen.

Dunedin

Kegan and I arrived in Christchurch without any plans. We had a bedroom on Air B&B for the first few days but other than that, nothing.
We quickly realized that Christchurch had fallen down. Rattled by an 8.0 earthquake in 2010, much of the cities infrastructure was being demolished or repaired. Some streets were closed off because they hadn't cleared the rubble off yet. Our hosts, Tim and Aiofa, remain loyal to their city and are both involved in the rebuild process. Some grassroots efforts have sprung up to help with the rebuild such as the "Pallet Pavilion," a small market built completely out of shipping pallets. Tim is working with the Christchurch Earthquake Rebuild Association (CERA), helping to lay plans for the new city. A tall task indeed, but as the Romans would say, "tabula rasa;" a clean slate. I can't say Christchurch is the most vibrant city right now but give it ten years and that place will be on the forefront of sustainability, efficiency, architectural intrigue and economic stability.
We caught wind (and a series of rides) to a city 5 hours south with beaches, cliffs, infrastructure and sea lions. You guessed it, Dunedin. Some of the friendliest mates live here and they will go out of their way to show us a good time in this beautiful seaside city.

The Day That Never Happened

Friday, March 1st: I boarded a plane out of Hilo en route to Honolulu where I would connect with my flight to Aukland, New Zealand. Everything was going peachy. I boarded a bus that took me right to my terminal with just over an hour to spare. As I waited in line the Hawaiian Pidgin started to fade and a I noticed more and more haole (non-hawaiian) folks with fanny packs and sharp accents using words like "bloody hell" and "mate." Ah, these must be the Kiwis.
Two lines started to form, one for those that had a boarding pass and one for those who didn't. I joined the latter as I was only issued an e-ticket that had bold letters on the bottom "This Is Not Valid For Boarding." The women at the desk was checking e-tickets and passports before printing out valid boarding passes subsequently allowing passengers to join the "I-already-have-a-boarding-pass line." A pretty seamless operation I thought. "Hey, How's it going?" I asked. "Good. Passport and ticket please." I handed her both and people watched the Kiwis while she typed in my info. "Do you have a visa?" she asked. "No, I'm traveling on holiday." "So you just have a one-way ticket?" "Yup." "How long do you intend to stay in New Zealand?" she asked. I smiled, proud of my spontaneity and lack of plans and said, "I'm not sure." Then she dropped a bomb on me. "Well If you are traveling without a visa, New Zealand requires you to have an outward or onward ticket." My smile quickly faded but hoping I had misheard her I said, "come again?" "You can't enter New Zealand without a Visa unless you have a return ticket home or a ticket out of the country." Thanks for the heads up Expedia! Maybe a little info box or asterisk before I click purchase next time could save me the embarrassment. Dumbfounded and really just mad at myself for not knowing that I asked, "can I move my flight to another night or something so I can figure this out?" "I'll give you the number of the airline and you can call them directly." I stood to the side took a deep breath and dialed up New Zealand Air. I had exactly one hour to figure this out before my plane departed. A Kiwi women answered the phone, "Hello this is Marilynn with New Zealand Air, how can I help you?" Flustered, yet trying to schmooze with Marilynn I politely replied, "Hey Marilynn how are you this afternoon?" (it's now 9:00 p.m.) "Well it's actually night time here but I guess it's still afternoon in your part of the world." I chuckled, hoping she didn't realize I was calling from pitch black Hawaii just an hour ahead of NZ time. No time for semantics though Marilynn. I explained my situation to her and she typed my info into her system to see how she could help. Precious minutes ticked away waiting for waiting for my itinerary info to load. She started telling me what flight I was on and when it was supposed to leave. Thanks Marilynn but I could have told you that ten minutes ago! I can see the plane that I'm supposed to be on and I'm staring at a clock that's telling me I've got 39 minutes to figure this out! This was my introduction to the Kiwi accent. Needless to say we weren't on the same page. Politely and articulately I said, "Ok thanks. Now could you tell me if there is anyway I could just switch the ticket I already have to another night so I can figure this out?" "Well let me see about that Mr. Smith." I heard her typing away in the background and started to think about the 2 people I sort of knew in Honolulu that I could crash with for the night. "Do you want to fly out tomorrow night? Will that give you enough time?" "Yes, that would be fine." "Ok, just a minute." Minutes are not something I have to spare... "Ok I can put you on a flight tomorrow night but there is a $100 switch fee, an $80 booking fee and you'd have to pay the difference in tickets so you're looking at about $450 to switch your ticket." I paused, did a little mental math and decided it wasn't worth it. "I'll pass Marilynn, thanks for your help." "Good luck Mr. Smith." Time is what I needed, not luck.
"What's next," I thought to myself. "Where do I go after New Zealand?" I saw my reflection in the dark glass behind the desk and stared at myself as I assessed the situation I had gotten myself in and wondered how I was to remedy this crucial moment in world travel. The busy terminal fell silent as my mind raced to find a solution. I remembered a flag the boys back in Hilo had hanging in the living room that read, "Imua." Imua is a Hawaiian word that means "to move forward with spirit. To progress." As spirited as I could be, I looked past my reflection in the glass, past the plane I was supposed to get on in what was now 25 minutes and past the dark Hawaiian horizon towards what I assumed was the westward direction. Malaysia. I'm going to go to Malaysia.
I pulled out my blessed iPhone and jump on the Expedia website despite my discontent with their lack of crucial information. I picked a date (April 1st), picked a flight (the cheapest one) and pressed "purchase." "Looks like I'll be spending 30 days in New Zealand" I said to the lady at the desk as I showed her my confirmation number on my phone. She shook her head and pursed her lips as if to say "good save, you idiot." But I think she was secretly impressed. She handed me my boarding pass and passport and said, "Enjoy the flight."
I was the very last person on the plane but the important thing here was that I was on the plane. I sat in my seat with a sigh of relief and settled in for the 9 hour flight to Aukland. "Imua," I said to myself giggling. Imua.
Saturday, March 2nd: The International Date Line stole this day from me and I will never get it back.
Sunday, March 3rd: Touchdown in Aukland. As the plane descended below the clouds I saw the rivers and mountains, lakes and ocean, all coupled with heaps of sheep and the urban sprawl of Aukland, New Zealand. I had another flight to catch to get to Christchurch but once the mate at the immigration desk stamped my passport I was worry free.
The connection to Christchurch was short and sweet. My luggage made it around the carousel with a zipper open and one less headlamp than I packed, but I wasn't gunna cry about it. With my life on my back and my feet on the ground I tramped through the airport towards the exit and into the brisk New Zealand morning. Welcome to the Southern Hemisphere.

Hike & Build

Hike & Build

Though my bike is now in a box in Massachusetts and my nightly host locations are consistent, for some reason I just can't seem to put down the hammer.
Within my first week in Hawaii I got right to work helping my neighbor, Micah "Poi Dog" Miller and his wife Gwen put together their first official house.
My day would start with a refreshing commute (on foot) up the dirt road past the sweet potato field, cow pasture and an aromatic white ginger bush to get a good hit of nature before I joined the workforce. I'd meet up with my coworkers, David and Jerry in the kitchen and shoot the shit over a pot of Micah's delicious but surprisingly not-from-kona-coffee until Jerry made the first move towards the house.
It's exciting to see the progress made on a project I was involved in. Don't get me wrong, I'm more of a skilled laborer than a master carpenter but someone's gotta Sherpa materials around and fill nail holes! Bike and Build projects were exciting and we could definitely see progress being made in a day or two but I've really been able to sink my teeth into this project over the past few months and I was fortunate to work with guys that were willing to explain the processes and even the jargon/pidgin that put this place together.
I've got to send a mahalo nui loa out to uncle Micah and aunty Gwen not only for employing me but for being some of the friendliest and most hospitable people I have come across. It's inspiring to see an older couple have such passion for life, love and truth in the world. It's been wonderful getting to know you over the past six months and I'm honored to call both of you my friends.
It may be some time till the Miller house is christened as a home, but I know there will always be a place for me here.

A Hui Hou

Nearly six months ago I landed on the most remote island chain in the world. I met some incredible people and embarked on some incredible adventures. Literally everything about Hawaii blew my mind and still does. How can so much life spring up from what was once a lava rock in the middle of the ocean?! There is something very pure about that place. Of course it's riddled with non-natives and invasive species, but it's alive and thriving. You can't help but notice this raw energy exuded up from the porous volcanic rock and out through the trees. It's invigorating just to close your eyes and take a hit of Hawaiian air. Call me a tree hugger but at least these trees will hug you back.
Incase you haven't picked up on my change to the past tense, I've left Hawaii. Left my friends, left the jungle, left my cat and a farm full of animals, left my job(s), left my Thermarest and a pair of boat shoes, left some moldy bread in the cabinets (sorry boys!), left without saying goodbye to some and left without ever saying hello to others. Left it all behind, along with a piece of my heart.
Big shout out to Brotha Patrick for giving me a place to call home and for showing me what the aloha spirit is all about. Oh and uh, I'll see you at the five year there guy. Brotha Britton! You da man. Thanks for fostering such epic adventures. Maaaatt, you're hilarious and from Wisconsin and I'm stoked for your future endeavors. Rasta man, stay on the grind my man and be safe on the scooter please. Uncle Micah and Aunty Gwen, the both of you are really fun and inspiring to be around. Really can't thank you enough for all you've done for me. Extra mahalo nui loa for keeping me well fed! Bradda Brown, proud of you man. Take care of business and get you're ass back out thre!. Aunty Haili, my dakine Hawaiian is Ono because of you. Uncle David, thanks for showing the haole boy where the fish are at. Brotha Joel! No seriously, you were like a big brotha, Joel. Mahalo Stephanie for taking me up Mauna Kea and for lobster claws. Mahalo aina!

A Hui Hou "until we meet again"

-CDS

P.S. Shoots!