‘Nothing is different, but everything’s changed’

Yes, I titled this post with a song lyric. Sincerest apologies. But I think that particular line (from Paul Simon) aptly describes my situation right about now.

I’m home. Or, rather, I’m back in the good ol’ US of A. I came to consider and accept Christchurch just as much my home as Maine, where I grew up. Sadly, though, I had to leave that wonderful city. I’ll spare you the excessive emotion, and myself the indignity of fumbling with my vocabulary in an attempt to describe those feelings that I have not the power to express in words. Suffice to say, I am sad to have left New Zealand – everything there seems so much simpler, so much easier, and, of course, so much prettier. The transportation system is simply brilliant, the cities are pleasant and uncrowded, the towns are vibrant, and, perhaps most importantly, the New Zealand Department of Conservation puts to shame the combined efforts and resources of the US Department of Agriculture, Fish and Wildlife Service, and National Park Service. Oh, yeah – driving on the left side of the road feels much more natural for some reason.

That’s not to say I’m unhappy to be home. There were many things I missed about the US: sweet cereal, colonial architecture and history (New England), snow, my friends and family, etc., but I’ll definitely miss New Zealand.

The departure sort of came out of a back alley and assaulted me. I got back from the North Island (see the previous post) and sat my remaining two exams, figuring I had plenty of time to pack, etc. On Saturday, 13 November, I neverthless found myself in a bit of a tizzy trying to clean up and fit my bedroom into a couple of suitcases and a small backpack. I had said most of my goodbyes to all the Kiwis I had befriended and I spent the afternoon at the house of my friend Cat, trying to use up miscellaneous baking ingredients that I had bought and never used due to my flat’s lack of a useful oven. I made a batch of snickerdoodles and ended up leaving them with her and her family with instructions to pass them on to some other friends. Whether they got there I cannot be sure, as Cat has an insatiable sweet tooth, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

Anyway, I got packed and rushed to the bus stop, where I said goodbye to my flatmates and headed for the airport. There began my 29 blissful, sleepless hours of travel time. On the flight across the Pacific I was once again lucky enough to have the person in the middle seat not show up, so I got my window, a quiet Australian got the aisle, and we had some extra space. I was not so luck on the flight across the States. I was in the middle, having generously given my window seat to a woman who proceeded to sleep through the entire trip. There was no food (on a five-hour flight) and the entertainment was mediocre. Plus I was excited to get home, and the closer I got, the slower time crawled.

I got to Boston eventually, where my dad and my brother were waiting for me with smiles and a car. We hit Dunkin Donuts on the way out (it was 7:00 am) to refresh my taste for absurdly sugary things, and headed home through New England fall (a bit of a departure from the summer from which I had just come). It was pleasant, and it was nice to come home.

Now, as this is a photo blog, I figured I ought to include some photos. I thought about doing a “Best of New Zealand” retrospective, but you would’ve seen most of the pictures before if you’ve been following this at all. So I decided instead to post pictures from the two places I spend most of my time: Maine, where I grew up, and Ohio, where I go to school. They are pictures that have been taken over the past two years for various purposes. Some are in colour, some in black and white, and all represent bits and pieces of my life. So welcome to my world, enjoy, and thanks for reading!

Finding New Synonyms for ‘Amazing’ is Becoming Increasingly Difficult

I got back from Queenstown, sat a couple of exams, one on Saturday and one on Monday, and discovered that I had at my disposal another week before my next exam! (Perhaps ‘discovered’ is the wrong word. I knew it was there – I was just pleasantly surprised by its arrival). I took advantage of this time by studying very hard.

…

Three hours after my exam on Monday I was on a plane bound for the North Island, the one place (and rather large percentage of the country) I had not yet explored. After an uneventful flight I landed in Auckland at about 4:30 pm, picked up a rental car, and headed south. The traffic was so bad around the city, though, that I did not reach my first destination, National Park Village, until about 11:00 pm. It being a small village (one petrol station, one grocery), accommodations were limited. And closed. After driving around on back roads for a reasonably long amount of time I finally found a little bed and breakfast with an open sign and a light on, so I headed in and the proprietor was nice enough to give me a discounted room and book ahead for my transportation to and from Tongariro National Park the next day.

The Tongariro Alpine Crossing is generally considered one of the most spectacular treks in New Zealand and, if you’ve been following this blog, you know that’s saying something. The 20 km track traverses the saddle between two active volcanoes, Mt Tongariro and Mt Ngauruhoe. Also constantly visible is Mt Ruapehu. These three volcanoes and the surrounding geothermal zones make up Tongariro National Park, an UNESCO World Heritage site. For any interested, Ngauruhoe was used as Mount Doom in the Lord of the Rings movies. Ruapehu was used as well (for other sinister scenery, I suppose).

The trek itself was incredible. Though physically demanding, it was very rewarding, especially to a geologist. The scenery looked a bit like how I’d always pictured the moon – barren, with mostly loose sediment and lots of craters. I took a side trip up to the summit of Mt Tongariro, fulfilling my goal to summit a snow-capped mountain, and the day was so clear I could see all the way to the North Island’s west coast. I understand that’s a distance of about 150-200 km. Anyway, there’s really no way I can describe this – it was just that amazing. The pictures don’t do it justice, but they’ll come closer than I will, so I’ll leave the rest to them.

When I finished the crossing a van was waiting to take me back to my car. After I got dropped off I headed east toward Taupo, which was not too far away. I got there, found a cheap motel, and settled in watching the World Rowing Championships, Thai food in hand. It turns out there isn’t actually much to do in Taupo. It’s just hype created by advertisers and the town is really touristy. You have to pay 40¢ if you want to use the public restrooms, for heaven’s sake.

Rotorua, through which I drove the following day, was very similar. Just bigger. Both of these cities were a little bit of a letdown, but I discovered a geothermal park waaaay off the beaten track that was totally worth it. I’ll darned if I can remember its name – something Maori – but it had hot springs, geysers, a cave, and all sorts of other cool stuff. It was nicknamed “the hidden valley” or something like that, and you could only get there by boat. Evidently it was used in the filming of BBC’s Walking with Dinosaurs. The reasons for this soon became obvious. The whole place looked like every stereotypical cartoon of dinosaurs you ever see, except it was real. You couldn’t see any other buildings or signs of civilisation, so it really looked as though you had just stepped back into the Jurassic.

I finished at the park and continued on toward Cambridge, whence I was to travel to the World Rowing Championships at the nearby Lake Karapiro on Thursday. I drove into town to see both sides of the street lined with classic cars, most of which had the steering wheel on the left side (that threw me for a bit of a loop). Most of the buildings on the mains street appeared to have originated in the late 19th or early 20th centuries, so the cars gave the town a very pleasant turn-of-the-century feel. There was music playing and people were out and about and the whole town felt very vibrant and alive. Walking up and down the street I noticed that each commercial establishment, be it a bank, restaurant, or store, had “adopted” a different country in the championships and had a display (or displays) in the windows relating to that country. Clothing stores tended to put on the most elaborate displays, with native garb, models, and more, while banks tended to have the simplest, with a few flags and decorations. It was a really nice thing to see. I got dinner from a street cart and just wandered up and down the streets. In the process I accidentally bumped into one of the Romanian rowers, who quickly apologised. Driving back to the hostel I paused to wave a few Russian rowers across the street. It was kind of a funny feeling, knowing these world-class athletes were just hanging out in the town. That’s what happens with lesser-known sports, I guess. It doesn’t come with quite the same amount of celebrity.

The next morning I woke up at 6:30 and drove out to the edge of town to the park-and-ride spot. I was on the first bus down to the lake. I got there, had a wee look around, and picked a spot on the grass next to the river. As the races didn’t start until 11:00 people were busy running around and setting things up. I had a lovely conversation with a couple of the SkySport TV crew and a very brief chat with one of the UK coaches when he came by looking for someone. I also had a chat with the couple from the UK who came and sat next to me and whose son was racing. The races themselves were fun to watch. The event was a week long, and unfortunately I was there only for a day, but I caught the men’s and women’s single sculls and double sculls semi-finals and men’s and women’s eights repechage. The US did pretty badly, but the Kiwis did very well, so the day wasn’t a total loss.

Friday I woke up to the sound of pouring rain. Figuring that, in the rain, I would have nothing to do but drive, I extended my planned route for the day to encompass a little bit more of the east coast. Instead of heading north directly toward Whitianga I headed east toward Whakatane before turning north. On my way up I stopped in Waihi, a little mining town at the bottom of the Coromandel peninsula. The old mine works caught my attention and I decided to stop and have a look. After taking a tour of an active gold mine, I headed west of town into the Karangahake Gorge to take a look around some of the abandoned mines in the hills. They were really amazing to see. High cliffs rose on either side of the river. Most of the buildings and processing structures were on the flatter east bank, while most of the mining had been done on the west side of the river. I spent the entire afternoon walking along old tram tracks and exploring abandoned mine shafts. I did one track called the windows walk, named for the “windows” miners drilled in the side of the cliffs so they could dump waste into the river and not have to haul it out with the tram. It was really fascinating and rather frightening at times. At points it was pitch black in the shafts and, not having a flashlight, kicking the tram tracks was the only way to ensure I wasn’t about to hit the side of a cave. When I was finally able to pull myself away from all the cool stuff, I headed up the Coromandel Peninsula along a beautiful twisting highway to the Whitianga, where I found a backpackers and settled in for the night.

The next day I woke up, checked out, and went out to explore the Coromandel coast, which was all volcanic and contained some really awesome structures. Then I headed up around the top of the peninsula, stopping in a couple of small towns, and made my way back toward Auckland. My intention was to follow the Pacific Coast Highway and find a place to stay just outside the city so that I could drive into the airport early in the morning (my flight was leaving at 6:30 am) when there was no traffic. However, because of the lack of urban sprawl in this glorious country, I had no indication that the city was fast approaching. Suddenly I was no longer on a country road. One roundabout and I was in heavy traffic. So I decided to just find a hotel near the airport. This proved a formidable task, but eventually I succeeded. I got dinner, watched a movie, and headed to bed early in preparation for my 3:30 am wake-up.