This only happens in the movies...

Dunedin - you darling lovely city.

Samples was right, I really do need to hold onto my hat!

I was in a shit mood. Just grumpy and moody and generally displeasing to be around. Whats the best way to reverse this?... Some good ol' flirting, with the possibility of a lovely innocent make-out to follow.

ENTER: The Professor.

Our first night in town and in search of some cider, KFarm, The Canadian and I end up at a bar on the corner in the Octagon (basically the downtown area of Dunedin, shaped like...you guessed it...an octagon).

We land on a lovely table in the middle of the bar and snag a few hard ciders. Relaxing and surveying the scene, I do some casual window shopping. I notice a tall gentleman facing away from me at the table behind ours, and casually slip to the ladies room to snag a better look......

.....

Shit. He's pretty damn cute too!

ENTER: Chin Strap and The Asian Wingman.

Oh Chin Strap. Your beard is hideous. NO ONE should EVER grown a chin strap beard. EVER.

As I'm ordering another cider I get chatted up by Chin Strap and The Asian Wingman. They follow me back to our table (sorry again girls!) and proceed to split their attention between KFarm and myself. I have a lovely 20 minute conversation with The Asian Wingman about how he thinks that he loves his girlfriend (who currently lives in Missouri). KFarm enjoyed some awkward moments with Chin Strap (see: That Awkward Moment When)

The Canadian ends up over at the at the other table, as they overheard her accent and coincidentally were going to Canada later this year.

The dynamic duo depart our table after buying rounds of tequila shots for us didn't seem to make us any more receptive, but you never knew when Chin Strap was going to show back up....he would flit off for a minute then...BAM...he's back over your shoulder. His sudden absence sent KFarm and I scrambling to The Canadians current table.

Well....hello there Professor.

1. Tall.
2. A pleasing mixture of rugged and adorable.
3. New Zealand accent.

Feeling awkward and not up to dancing just yet, I figured I had nothing to loose and thought to myself: "Yes, I think I'll just park myself riiiiiight here at your elbow for the next 20 or so minutes and we'll see if there's a brain in there as well....."

4. He is S-M-A-R-T.

The next few bits are a little jumbled up in my head chronologically, so I'll revert to bullet points:

- I didn't pay for a drink the rest of the night.
- The DJ and I were BFF's for about 3 hours.
- New Zealand accents are the tequila of linguistics.
- I did the washing machine on the dance floor (Top Ten Ways You Know LP is Drunk)

At one point, The Professor and I are face to face. How this happened I cant recall, but I wasn't mad about it.

Eye contact: Established.
Eye contact: Maintained for 1.....2......3......4 seconds.

Solid make out. On a dance floor. With a kiwi. That. Just. Happened.

Then.....the music cuts and the lights are flicked on momentarily blinding me. Suddenly, I'm skipping like a school girl out the front door. All four of us are standing in the street, its 2am and The Professor is saying goodbyes to my traveling companions.

Eye contact: Re-established
Eye contact: Maintained for 1......2.......ah screw it. My hands snake behind his head and (again) solid make out. For 10ish minutes. In the middle of the road. Like. A. Boss.

I finally manage to distract myself enough to pull away, mutter something cute and vapid like "Really, no I mean realllly nice to meet you. If I'm ever in town again, I'm hunting you down." He flashes the most knee weakening grin my way and says something in agreement and away we go. Me skipping like an idiot, him sauntering down the road most likely never to be seen again.

KFarm and Canada try and talk me into emailing him the next day, but I politely refuse. It was too perfect of a moment, and my luck would be that he's married, or actually a douche bag, or boring as hell, or some horrible combo of all three. I wanted to leave it as a sweet, passionate lip lock in the middle of the road at 2am in New Zealand.

Until we opted to stay in town for a week instead of two days as originally planned.

My curiosity got the better of me...

Ignoring all logic in my head, I shoot him an email with some nonsense about "Oh, I just want some advice on neat things in the area. Where are good hikes, great food, etc., etc."

And what do you know, he actually wrote me back!

Lines of entertaining witty banter later, and I am suddenly rather interested to talk to him in a non-intoxicated state.

Evening plans were discussed, and seeing as neither KFarm nor Canada wanted to go out, he was stuck with me. Im not sure at this point exactly what he was thinking, but I was slightly petrified.

A. I couldn't remember for the life of me if he really was as cute as I thought he was.
B. In modern day america, there can be certain "expectations" that go along with having drinks, and I just don't operate that way.
C. The inevitable thought of: What if he's actually interested in either of my rather attractive traveling companions and is just being polite in dealing with my nerd conversation and lack of fashionable dress?

I tell myself to quit being an idiot and just go have a quick drink. It'll either be fun, or it will suck.

I throw on some decently attractive combination of clothing that I have and scoot out the door before Canada and KFarm try and dress me up any more than I'm comfortable with. They tried to get me to wear a scarf for goodness sakes! (Hey you: true story. Focus, and quit snickering to yourself.)

Waiting in front of the bar we met at originally a million thoughts whizz through my head. I lost myself in negativity for a moment....
What if he stands me up?
What if my hair looks horrible?
What if he thinks I'm boring?

"Well, hello there." Says a pair of shoes with a kiwi accent suddenly standing next to me.

My eyes fly up the tall frame that is now facing me. Eye contact: ......... Look at that smirk. He's waaaaaay cuter than I remember......

Shit, did I put deodorant on??

Continued...

Holy shit, we rented a car

Also, Canmericans reunite!

This is gonna be a long one....

SO.

The lovely folks at Omega Rental Cars are brave enough to entrust us with a vehicle designed to drive on the wrong side of the road. What more can I say.

Day One: Beyonceeeee
Nelson to Franz Josef: roughly 7 hours in the car.

Fact: Cat has the BEST music selection on her phone. Win.

Leaving Nelson around noon with our Canadian in the backseat, we arrived in Franz Josef late that night. I promptly passed the hell out.

Day Two: Glacier to Adrenaline Capital
Franz Josef to Queenstown: roughly 6 hours

1. Glaciers, while of great geological significance, are not thus far not the coolest thing I've ever laid eyes on. What they carve out, however, is AMAZING.
2. No socks + tennis shoes = blister
3. Left side driving is terrifying through roundabouts.

We landed in Queenstown for a few days, exploring the area, and unsuccessfully trying to catch a rugby game.

Day 5: Queenstown to Glenorchy to Milford Sound
I dont even know how many hours. But it was one hell of a drive....

Leaving Queenstown, we cruised over to Glenorchy for....Horseback Riding!! Katie and I rode through a few Lord of the Rings filming sites, a few river crossings, lake views, horses spooking at birds, nothing out of the ordinary.

From Glenorchy we drove back thru Queenstown, dropping Blue Ivy off for a quick check up. She'd been sounding a bit squeaky and we were headed into some pretty steep territory. I like brakes that work.

Oddly enough, hers were SHOT. So we got a new rental! Meet Bruno Timberlake Mars. He's a sweet cruiser with working speakers and killer pick up! I could actually pass people in this boat!

The drive to Milford was insane. Gorgeous views, the craziest tunnel EVER, and some of the most raw scenery that I have seen to date. I have now seen mountains from the ground my dears, and they are even more spectacular to stare up at as they are to stare down upon. Now I want to climb one....

Milford Sound. No words. I can hardly believe that before we left for NZ, I wasn't sure that we were really going to make it down there. I cannot tell you how brilliant everything was. And my god! The stars! Imagine the best night skyline you've ever seen, multiply its beauty and the brightness of the stars 10 fold.

If you add anything to your bucket list, make it Milford.

I snagged a lovely little cruise, talked to a sweet Irish family while we gaped at the scenery. Just freaking unreal.

Day 7: Milford Sound to Dunedin
Long. Ass. Drive.

No. Really. I was a big ball of incoherent when we finally rolled into Dunedin. Food was required stat, or I was going to keel over right there in the street.

Meet the love of my life: Velvet Burger. If you are EVER in Dunedin. Please dear god, go to Velvet Burger. Get a Homegrown and devour that sucker. You wont be disappointed.

Dunedin gets its very own post, so I wont elaborate too much here.

We ended up staying in town for 6 days, which was the perfect break from the non-stop cross country touring we'd been doing thus far.

Day 14: Dunedin to Christchurch to Kaikoura
Pace yourself. Dunedin -> Chch = 5 hours. Chch -> Kaikoura = 3ish hours

Leaving the lovely city of Dunedin, we snaked our way along the coast and up to Christchurch. It was SO nice to be in a car again for a little while. There is something therapeutic about belting power ballads while cruising along coastal roads.

The Canadian met up with family in Christchurch and we explored the shipping container mall set up close to the red zone.

Rolling out of Christchurch we zigzagged up to a beautiful coastal town called Kaikoura. Face one way, beautiful beaches with miles of thundering waves.
180 degree about face and you are staring at snow capped mountains. To abuse my already overused descriptive word some more....the view was unreal.

I turned into a bum and did a little sun soaking whilst I made some alternate travel plans.....

The heart of life is good

So I believe in this thing called karma. Do unto others, etcetera, etcetera. I have never in my short life felt its effects so profoundly until recently. And never did i ever think that a piece of clothing could illustrate it for me. Least of all a girly red skirt.

I lost myself a long while back. Lost sight of goals, of genuine humor, imagination, creativity, the need for fresh air. All things that defined who I was as a person. This is the story of how I found my road map back.

I wont do into great detail here, but though a series of relationships (both platonic and romantic), I have discovered that I am a chameleon of sorts. I adopt traits of the people I'm around that I find amusing, beautiful and/or real. It took several years and a lot of painful situations to realize that this was the person that I was allowing myself to be. I caused a great deal of pain and unnecessary heartache to people who cared a great deal for me, and for that I will probably never be able to apologize properly.

There is this absolutely heartrending speech called "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch. I still am ever grateful to the T.A. of my required speech class for forcing us to watch it. In it, Randy goes over the requirements for a real apology. They come in three parts:
1. Actually saying the words "I'm sorry"
2. These words should be followed by an admittance of what you have done wrong.
3. The third, and in my eyes the most crucial part, is asking: "What can I do to fix it?"

Its this last part that makes it a real apology, showing that you really and truly want to right the wrong you caused.

The wrongs that I've made make me who I am today. Without the guilt that springs forth from the pain I've caused I would be lost. Guilt and pain are my compass, steering me north towards balance, honesty and love.

The realization that I wasn't myself, but a collection of reflections of those that I placed on a pedestal, was not a kind one. I lost the confidence that I had scraped together after years of physical insecurity. I longed to be fitter, to be funnier, to be beautiful, to be fiery and passionate about life and love.

I stifled my insecurities and threw myself into work. Ignoring the weaknesses that I saw and flaws that I carried about my personality and body image. I focused on my brain first. Starting an imaging business, I relished creating beautiful things for people. Each client a new challenge. I threw myself into my career as a veterinary technician. Where can I improve, how many balls can I juggle at once. Can I fix a printer and start two rooms all while prepping surgery? (Im my head, yes. In reality, not quite haha.)

The hectic work hours that I had were a blessing. Distracting me from the life issues that I was facing. My professional life was strong as an ox. Personally? I was an awkward turtle.

Tackling this weakness next, I ended up in one of the most outright, honest, mentally freeing relationships that I have ever had.

What a feeling that was! I was completely myself. Awkward, nerdy, horrible timing and all, and he laughed not at me, but WITH me. It was the breath of fresh air that I needed. My self confidence began its climb back up the mountain.

Enter this blessed country: New Zealand.

Self confidence at half mast, I now focused on physical fitness. I wanted to fit into single digit clothes. I wanted to climb mountains on my crooked legs of steel. I wanted my summer skin back.

So I walked, and packed, and climbed, and walked some more. Sweat, sweat, sweat.

An amazing thing happened. I don't know if its the constantly changing scenery or all of the fresh air, but my imagination is GROWING. Each new view we see tells me a story. Metaphors are STILL flying through my head like comets. I can't write it all down fast enough.

3 days ago, in Queenstown, we stopped in a second hand store. I wasn't shopping, because I honestly didn't need to spend the money, nor did I need to stuff MORE things into my pack.

I saw a flash of red peek out from the middle of a rack. Pulling it from the line up I admired the cut and feel of the fabric. Its the PERFECT lindy hop skirt. Long enough to cover my silly crooked knees and cut in that perfect shape to fling out when you spin.

Looking at the size, there was a slim possibility that I might actually fit in it. In US sizing, it was an 8, not a stretchy jean fabric 8, but a "you better hope to god you're an 8" 8.

I slink into the fitting room, shimmy out of my jeans and pull this beautiful fabric on. Fit like a glove.

I cried like a baby. I looked like I had always wanted to look. Skin tight black tank top tucked into a high waisted bright red dream skirt.

Of course I bought it.

I tell you in all honesty, its all worth it. Every inch of shit that you will stomp through. Its all worth it for moments like that. Ignore the shit, there will always be more of it. Hold onto those bright moments, that's what makes it worth it.

If you're sad, figure out why. Find the source and confront it. Cut it from your life if necessary. If you're happy, say so. Say why and say it often. Let the people you love know that they are loved. Life is too short to do anything else my darlings.

Canmericans Unite!

After leaving Picton, we snagged a bus to the lovely city of Nelson on the first leg of our southern tour.

I am great at reading maps, but holy mother of goodness do I suck at judging distances.

A "quick stroll" from the bus stop to our hostel morphed into an "I didn't know I could sweat that much" 30 minute trek. Nice.

The gentleman who took us to our room asked it we were friends with the two people already here as the four of us had booked the room within 10 minutes of each other.

"Nope"

Canmericans Unite! Wait...what?

Cat (Canada) and Max (USA), meet LP and KFarm.

It was like the A-Team was reborn in New Zealand. Only instead of driving a sweet van, we get to pedal along like dorks on free rental bikes while wearing ill-fitting (completely useless in the case of a crash) helmets.

Hey Truck Truck

After the giant ferry boat KFarm and I landed in Picton for a few nights at a hostel called The Fat Cod.

I firmly believe that this is roughly where we learned to travel together efficiently.

Annoying Things LP Does According to KFarm
- I should drink good wine ONLY. Goon Lauren = Big Dumb
- I award/detract fictional points to people based off of entertaining/sucky things they say/do.
- Singing unnecessarily ALL THE DAMN TIME
- Unnecessarily random purchases - ie. "Why did you buy eggs and FORGET them at the last hostel?"

Annoying Things KFarm Does According to LP:
- She is always right, unless she's wrong...then she's right.
- She is constantly "loosing" important items in the pocket of her backpack (ie. room keys, cell phone, etc.)
- Screaming while crossing the street is totally acceptable (and leaves me on the other side of the street feeling like the mother who's child just knocked over the pyramid of cans at the end of the aisle).
- 50/50 shot that her internal GPS is right

Writing this post now, trying to compile our annoyance lists, she and I couldn't think of anything current that really and truly bothered us about the other person. In all honesty, we ended up laughing about all of the crap we just listed (especially street screaming).

That's a pretty damn good place to be at.

Fun Fact Number 6: Mary had a little lamb....and I ate it. It was delicious.

Gumboot Manor - Let's Tarantino this. 

The last semblance of a thought that whipped through my head as we were leaving?

"You keep your battle cries, crazy trucker man, I'll win this war AND take your ice cream."

Lets go back.

Midway through our escape from the north, the bus pulled over at a roadside diner called Gumboot Manor. It was an interesting place that leaves you feeling like you had suddenly become an unwilling participant in a Tarantino movie.

Climbing off the bus, you are aware of just how much noise your shoes make, crunching gravel with each step. You're a bit thirsty, as you've been on a bus for 7 hours straight drooling over mountains erupting gracefully from vast plains of sagebrush dotted with tiny purple flowers that you may never know the name of. In search of water originally, you beeline through the propped open doors into a diner straight out of a movie. Immediately, your attention is drawn to the delicious looking menu options written on the far wall.

And then I saw it. LAMB. BURGER. ::mental fist pump to the air:: Money changes hands, the deal is made and I turn in search of a fine flat surface to properly enjoy my meal and people watch from. Best to stay close to the exits. Avoid the bathrooms, that's where they always get you. Nobody wants to meet their end in a diner bathroom, its cliche.

My traveling companion eyes me warily as she walks in the room.

"Why in gods name did you buy food here, you lunatic" her eyes enunciate to me.

"Lamb. Burger." Says me.

A look of understanding and dispassionate interest sweeps across her face as she seats herself opposite of me.

As I wait patiently for my plate to arrive, my food brain reminds me that Im still thirsty as all get out. Over on a wall casually plastered with 1970's flowery wall paper, I spy the tower of highball glasses and tell-tale vase. Water. (Sidebar for my fellow Americans: here in New Zealand there generally isn't water on your table right as you sit. Usually, the waiter brings you empty highball glasses and a recycled wine bottled - the cool kind with a hinged stopper - filled with cold water. At times it's simply self service on a side table.)

Approaching the table, I notice that this particular water vase has some sort of crocheted doily like thing, edged with beads in different shades of ocean colors, placed atop it. I assume to keep flies out. Little did I know, this particular item was the catalyst for a series of events, leading directly to the best faux movie scene I've ever created in my wrinkled brain.

It happened like this:

My fingers grazed the surface of the crocheted stitching. Each fiber hooking to a cliff in my fingerprint like organic vel-cro. Simultaneously lifting a highball glass with one hand, I remove the doily apparatus from the vase. In doing so, causing the glass beads to tinkle against the thick glass neck of the vase.

It's safe to say, at this point, that the ping those beads made against the glass may just be the cleanest sound I've ever heard. They rung like a bell in a prize fight, and my imagination took off like a rocket.

Three things happen in quick succession:
1. My heart skips a beat.
2. My tongues skims quickly across my lips.
3. I lock eyes with the burly kiwi trucker across the room.

This trucker was truly a fine specimen of "I may or may not have just stabbed someone in the bathroom". Sitting in a corner booth, draped in a dingy plaid shirt, he is casually eating an ice cream cone and staring straight at me. Lets call him Harold.

I strategically return to my seat, water in hand, avoiding his gaze. Then, my darlings, the most beautiful thing happened. Tears of joy were shed, a thousand perfect sunsets blazed across the horizon like wispy fireworks, wailing babies stopped crying.

The lamb burger had arrived.

It was glorious. Perfectly toasted bun piled with crispy lettuce leaves, juicy tomato slices, onion, MINT jelly and the most adorable lamb patty ever.

Open mouth, insert burger, bite. FLAVOR explosion in mah mouth.

I went carnivore on that poor burger. Demolished it, absolutely destroyed it. Shoving the last beautiful bite into my pie-hole, I look up and see Harold staring at me again.

So we're doing this then? Game on, Harold, game on.

Begin fight scene.

The camera swoops in for a close up of his face. Harold licks his ice cream cone. Zoom in on a drop of ice cream on his dirty man beard.

In my minds eye, he takes one more lick from the ice cream cone and calmly sets it on the table. Lifting a hand, he points his grungy finger at me.

I set my water glass down on the table ::clunck:: and pick up a fork, tilting my head to the side.

Your move.

Enraged, Harold leaps from his chair and bum rushes me, arms clasped around my middle as we tumble to the ground. My fork weakly clatters to the ground. Chairs fly as we crash through the dining room and land on the order counter.

I reach behind me grasping for any kind of weaponry, success! The rack of candy finds its way to my fingers. I start throwing them rapid fire at his face. Snickers. Tim tams. Skittles. Tic tacs. Finally my hands find the holy grail of candy fire power.

Paydays.

Little bricks of pain, I hurl them at my assailant. Nailing him in the right eye, he staggers back, giving me time to recollect.

Crouching tiger style, I jump impossibly high landing on the rafters above. Harold follows suit. We then execute a complex, but perfectly framed, series of battle moves.

Knee to gut, backhanded pimp slap, half nelson, fork stab, payday to the face, haymaker, Ron Swansons, Christmas grenades, etc.

Falling back to earth, I am bleeding from a bite wound badly, but he has a fork protruding from his foot and Payday peanuts stuck in his eye. He knows that I have won, but just to drive point home, I roundhouse kick him in the jaw. Chuck Norris would be proud, if he could feel feelings that is.

I hear the bus rattle to life outside and move towards the exit, past a fetal positioned Harold on the floor. You keep your battle cries, crazy trucker man, I'll win this war AND take your ice cream.
 

Land of the Long White Cloud

Where to start, where to start?

Chronological is best I suppose...

Days 17-21ish
After leaving Ponsonby Backpackers (which was lovely), we stayed a night at a hostel on the other end of Ponsonby Road called Verandahs. This place is my favorite hostel by far :) It had a cute little back yard that backed up to a large tree filled park and our rooms had high ceilings, tall windows and plenty of breeze. We relaxed there the entire day, recuperating from the night before (Chinese Lantern FAIL) and formulating some sort of game plan for the next few days.

The sun was shining and then window next to my bed opened onto a sweet wrap around porch. It only seemed appropriate then, to shimmy out the window and collapse into a sun soaked chair to do some reading while KFarm slept the day away. Man-o-man did my eyes do some traveling! I finished Fifty Shades of Grey, started and finished Fifty Shades Darker (Pitiful excuses for literature, but definitely entertaining to read) and started As I Lay Dying, only to discover 3 chapters in that I had read it before many many moons ago.

Before leaving Ponsonby Backpackers we booked a trip with a "hop on, hop off" tour called Stray Bus. KFarm's initial reaction of "this sounds like a bus cruise ::skeptical face::" was all too on point. We should have listened to her gut in the first place. There was a lot of hurry up and wait, but we did see some interesting things while being herded on and off buses like tourist cattle. Chief among them: Cape Reinga, a forest of kauri trees, and the best fish and chips we've had thus far.

Cape Reinga was....perfect.

A Little History

Cape Reinga is generally considered the separation marker between the Tasman Sea to the west and the Pacific Ocean to the east. From the lighthouse it is possible to watch the tidal race, as the two seas clash to create unsettled waters just off the coast.
 According to mythology, the spirits of the dead travel to Cape Reinga on their journey to the afterlife to leap off the headland and climb the roots of the 800 year old tree and descend to the underworld to return to their traditional homeland of Hawaiki, using the Te Ara Wairua, the 'Spirits' pathway'. At Cape Reinga they depart the mainland. They turn briefly at the Three Kings Islands for one last look back towards the land, then continue on their journey

Knowing that, you get to a place like this carrying your loved ones with you, whether you're aware of it or not. Standing on a hill top enveloped by cliffs and salty air, you look out into the vast nothingness of sea and you let them fly.

We left the cape and visited a collection of beautiful sand dunes. The lucky passengers with good knees (aka 98% of our bus) hauled themselves to the top to surf down on boogie boards. To get back to town, we drove down 90 Mile Beach (officially recognized as a road in New Zealand).

Migration

After our "adventures" with Stray and my displeasure at being back in a city, we rallied to hop a bus directly from Auckland to Wellington in order to go south ASAP. The 11 hour bus ride was pretty neat actually, it was like driving through postcards. Everything is gorgeous here.

Arriving safely in Wellington (Awkward Moments), I promptly passed the hell out. I was so tired, I totally forgot to get under the damn sheets.

Fun Fact Number 5: Wellington coffee = winning.

I love this city! The whole general feel to it. It breathes and moves. PLUS there is good food EVERYWHERE.

Breakfast: Cafe Panama
Two slices of delectable french toast dusted with powdered sugar and accompanied by a sliced banana, drizzled with a none-to-stingy amount of GOOD maple syrup. Follow immediately with 20 minutes of reading/people watching while savoring a delicious cup of mochachino. (Yes, I know its fancy coffee, but the fancy coffee is so good that the normal people coffee is actually drinkable!)

Unfortunately, all of the hostels were booked up for the weekend, so we couldn't stay another night (we'll be back!)
Fortunately, we were headed to the South Island!!

Interislander Ferry

- This is a big. damn. boat. 

- We made friends with a rugby team from Auckland

- I spent 50% of the 3 hour trip on deck drooling over the scenery - pictures to follow soon!