Yeah, so...we're home

Home is a relative term. It's where the heart is and usually where your bed is, too. It is weird to be "home." Perhaps it's because home requires a lot. New Zealand didn't require too much of me. No dates, or times. No hurry. Never once did we say, "Well if we dont get to insert place name by insert time/date, then we are going to be in some serious trouble." Flying by the seat of our pants was the preferred method of transportation. And it was a nice flight.

So far "Home"has just required a bunch of answers, some of which I don't have, yet. Answers to questions like, "Are you here just to visit?" To which I sarcastically reply, "I WISH!" with a laden sense of sadness, because just a visit would be great. I could see everyone I've missed, catch up on the past 7 months, then hop back on my pants seat and get back to my peanut-butter and jelly. (Peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches are the universal sign for a tight budget. Everytime I say that we ate a lot of PB&J, people just nod, instantly understanding how poor we really were. That never happens in kindergarten. PB&J is cool in kindergarten.)

It also seems everyone wants to know, "What's next?" Next? More? I have to keep going, and doing? I can't just sit around, enjoying the fact that I've taken care of the post-wedding "what's next?" I have to come up with another "What's next?"? Do the "What's Next?'s" ever end? Probably not. It seems that there is always a next house, or car, or job being sought after. Perhaps it is an american thing.

Being away from america teaches you the most about who you are, at least that has been my experience, being away from america and all. The rest of the world doesn't seem to think the same way that we do about things. The biggest difference is possibly worry. Kiwi's are always saying, "No worries." Maybe that's the way they remind themselves what they deem significant. Those crazy kiwi's get 4 weeks vacation, minimum. And they take everyday of it, never worrying about how work will ever function without them. We tried to explain the 2 weeks most americans get, and their heads almost exploded. Especially when we told them that some of us don't even use up our 10 little days. It think would just love the idea of 4 weeks of vacation. And I guarantee that we would have no idea what to do with it all. I've relayed this idea to folks here who replied, "4 weeks! I would rather work!" Really? I know that I wouldn't. But I also don't have a job right now, so everyday is a holiday. Hooray!

Maybe what I am trying to say is this: We Americans need to loosen up a little, not worry so much. So what if you take some time off and do something a little crazy. Go to Europe for a year. Rent your house while you're gone so you can make a little cash, for crying out loud. Buy a sail boat and sail down to Florida and back. Teach your kids how to swim, they can come too. If they can't learn how, teach them to put on a life jacket.

I'm sure I've forgotten some things while away, like the rewards of working hard. But I realized that the rewards of playing hard are pretty good too. Just go play a little. It's fun.

We're Baaaaaaaack

see above.

Wait, there's more....

Yep, were still moving, and shaking also, here in New Zealand. It has been a busy bunch of days since last I posted. Luckily, it has also been a bunch of days without rental car trouble. Jesus loves me this I know....

The Coromandel Peninsula was our next stop. It was originally discovered by a Coro-Man, aptly named Del, hence the name. We were really looking for a chance to relax, chill, and recover from our recent travels, since we'd been going pretty hard since leaving Te Puke (barf-town).

Our first stop was Whangamata, where they were having a "Beach Hop," which is a bunch of custom cars driving around, and a bunch of unsavory character ogling them. We didn't take any pictures because it wasn't that cool. It was actually kind of annoying. Traffic, loud engines, the aforementioned unsavories. We're old, I guess. (actually, Emily is old because she turned 25 this week. Shame on all of you for forgetting to visit on her birthday.)

We then headed to Hahia to check out Hot-water beach. Basically there is a hot spring that comes up 0n the beach. So, we just dug a hole and sat in the hot water. Unfortunately, where we dug was Boiling Water Beach, and we couldn't sit in it very long. We got 2nd degree burns on our bottoms to be able to get pictures of us sitting in a hole on a beach, and we did it all for you. You're welcome. However, I wont forget about this. Yall owe me big-time.

After 20 minutes at hot-water beach, we continued north (like you care which direction we were driving, to Whitiangi, where we got to make our own bone carvings. Fortunately, we didn't carve our own bones. They gave us some from the back.

Here's a close up action shot:

After hours of dremel-work and sanding, we proudly walked away with two 1/2 x 1/2 pieces of bone that fit conveniently around our necks, with the aid of some string.

We then trekked up and down the bumpiest unsealed road we could find, and while we tried, we were unable to destroy the rental beast. At the end of this "road" was the Coromandel Coastal Walkway. The walkway was boring, but there were these awesome ducks. As soon as we walked by the camper van they had overtaken, they all came out to say hello. They quickly realized that I was the friendly one because Emily repeatedly exclaimed, "I don't like you, ducks." Turns out, ducks know when they're not wanted.
This gang of quackers must have expected my pockets to be full of peppridge farm or something, because they gathered round like story-time at the library. They tried to follow us up the hill, still holding out hope for some rye, but we quickly distanced ourselves from them. Waddling never gets you anywhere, so don't try it.

Done with Coromandel, the Bay of Islands entered the radar. It's the great bay, dotted with hundreds of islands. We tried to research it, but were never able to figure out where the name came from. Anyhoo...

We booked a night on "Rock, the Boat" because of the double meaning layered in the name. We're suckers for irony. Isn't that ironic? No? Touche! While on board, we dined on kiwi-staples like sausages and green-lipped mussels (mmmm!) after we tried our hand a little fishing. Apparently, Emily has never caught a fish before, and I know this, not because she didn't know how to use the rod and reel, but because she told me. It's a good thing they had the sausages etc, cause we didn't catch crap.

Despite getting skunked on the fish, we did have to opportunity to snorkel, and collect mussels and sea urchins, which someone else is probably eating right now. And we paid for this. We're suckers from way back. We finished up the trip with some island/bar hopping and played all the connect-four that we could stand.






Ok, that's pretty much it for now. Stay tuned for more adventures!

On and On...

So, as soon as we sold our shuddering car, we made a bee-line for Te Puke (teh poo-kay). It is the kiwi fruit capital of New Zealand, so we thought we could go there and pick up some work. The name of the town is translated roughly as "Barf-Town," or at least that's how it seemed because not only was it full of sketchy characters at every turn and it oddly smelled of cat food, but there was no work in sight. Unfortunately we found this out after we paid for a week of accommodation in the puke's nicest hotel, which meant that it was still pretty dirty. What else should we have expected from a place called the puke? Nothing, actually. On a happier note, we didn't get robbed while we were there.

We finally decided to vacate Te Puke after one day of kiwi picking, along with every Indian lady in New Zealand (Not Shoshone or Cherokee, however) and too many other days in the library doing asinine things like READING! (gasp). We struck out east, along the coast of the north island to try to find a little more excitement, which we found, although it wasn't exactly the right kind.

Emily has this urge, most times, to eat lunch away from as many people, and near as many elements of nature as possible. She is such a hippie. Anyway, it was her idea to dine beneath the famed 'Pukawata' trees (please note that the trees are neither spelled, nor pronounced that way). As we tried to locate said trees, Emily grew impatient, and settled on a flat, rocky area by the bay. Sadly, we never reached this lunchtime destination for our rental car, which could be mistaken for a go-kart, bottomed out on this magnificent rocky area. Some of us (emily) were laughing, while the rest of us (josh) attempted to dig our car from it's buried perch. Needless to say, we didn't enjoy lunch beneath the pukawata trees.

Speaking of our car. In my best summary, it is a metal shell encasing what, at top speed, sounds frighteningly like a leaf-blower. Hills are not her friend.

Moving along. We made our way up to Lake Waikaremoana where the altitude dropped the
temperature to a shocking 4 degrees!!!! Holy chill bumps, Batman! While camping was our first option, we spent most of our time trying not to freeze by sitting in the kitchen, doing more reading. It was a bad evening until a very nice lady realized how cold we were and offered us chocolate cake. Her exact words were, "Oh, you're cold! Let me get you some chocolate cake." I wasn't sure what she was thinking, but I loved her logic. After that, we didn't really get any warmer, but that cake was good.

The 10 speed huffy we were driving struck again with a flat tire. Instead of calling AA (NZ version of AAA, just not as good) for a sweet fee of $85, I made Emily change the tire and we were off to Napier.


Napier was very cool. Lots of old art-deco buildings and...well really that was it. But it was near a really cool place called:

Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamatea-
turipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenaukitanatahu.

A rough translation of this is, "What the heck?!", but it really means, "The brow of a hill where Tamatea, the man with the big knees, who slid, climbed, and swallowed mountains, known as land eater, played his flute to his brother." We tried to get a picture, but the camera switched off at the sight of such idiocy. You have no idea how much I wish I was making this up. If I were that creative, I would be a very wealthy man. On a side note, how would you like to be known as "the man with big knees?" Seems insulting to me.

After we uncrossed our eyes, we headed for Tongariro National Park where we climbed a real life volcano. It was steaming and everything. And we only had to share the trip with about 265 other people. I guess a 7 hour walk up one side of a volcano and down the other is more appealing than it sounds. It only took us 5 hours to finish, and we were first, even though no one else knew it was a race. Even still, WE WON!

After we got back, the 'weed-eater wannabe' car from hell struck again with a dead battery. At this point, I was ready to leave it in the parking lot and hitchhike home. But I found a nice man who didn't mind that I smelled like 4 different flavors of body odor to jump the little scooter-mobile.

We ventured through Taupo, and didn't to anything but watch a beautiful sunset.


Stay tuned for more in the near future.

Fox, Ferries, Forts and Freedom

Welcome, Friends and Foes.

Do you know what today's special letter is? No, it's not P, it's F!

Our first F-word for the day is Fox, which stands for Fox Glacier. We climbed all over that son-of-a-gun. They even gave us little spikes to attach to our boots so we wouldn't go sliding into blue icy oblivion, which was sweet. Strangely enough, we had to walk through a rainForest to get to Frozen Field that is Fox. There are only a Few situations like this on the Face of the earth. One is up the road at Franz Joseph glacier, and the other is Far away in South America. So we were in Fine company on a Freak of nature. Here is a Foto:

If you look closely, you can see my pants, Firmly Fixed into my Fluffy socks. I look Furiously Funny For sure! After our Foxy Foray, we Fled Further north to Picton, where we Frolicked on the sounds, Feeling the heat of the Fading summer. Foto Op:

That brings us to our second F-word of the day: Ferries.

Since there is more than a furlong between the islands here in New Zealand, these Fools make you Fork over Fist-Fulls of Fifties to reach the North. Furthermore, it is a 3 hour tour! Please Forgo the sad Feelings, we Fared much Finer than Gilligan and his Friends. Plus, Ferries are Full of Freaky smiling Fellows who seem Furiatingly Fascinated with one's wife. His Ferret-like eyes were Fully Fixed on her. FREAKY!!! We Finished our ride in Wellington, at 11 PM, which happens to be about Four hours after hotels and hostels Fling their doors shut and Flip off their lights. Team Mitchell was Frustrated with these Findings.

Now we Find ourselves Facing our third F-word: Forts.

For centuries, little Freds and Fionas have been Fashioning Forts For Fun, but Team Mitchell was Fed up with searching For Fantastic sleeping arrangements, and was Forced to Find Fortitude in their humble Subaru For the Final hours of the night. And just like Forts of Fables, we were bored with it about the time it was Finished. But instead of Fleeing to more comfortable Furnishings, we were Forced to Further our stay in our car-Fort.

Finally, we come to F-word number Four: Freedom.

Freedom From what? you may ask. Freedom From this effing blog? NO! You must Finish what you have begun.

Freedom is the Feeling Felt when one has Fought the Fleeing car buyers, and Found a Fitting "Friend" to, in essence, rob you with his Fashoinably low offer on your Fine, Fine transportation. Flavio and his Friends Found a sucker in Team Mitchell, and raped them Financially. But For now, we are Free of the car For the Finality of our Zealand-Fun.

That Feeling of accomplishment in your Face is Fitting, and earned. For you never Failed in Finishing the F-Blog. Here are a Few more Fascinating Fotos:

Foxy Fields of Frozen Water!

Czech out those Fronds!Fabulous!!!

Those are all the F-words I can think of, save one......

FAREWELL!