Jinja Island: The Internet / Phone

I have not been posting like I wanted to, so my first new post will be about why that is. On my last trip into town, I forgot the doohicky. Read on about why forgetting the doohicky is a problem…

On Jinja Island, internet service is provided by a little doohicky (looks like a memory stick) that you buy in town and load with a SIM card (that you pay for separately) that contains your data allowance. As with internet on your smart-phone, you pay for data, not time. I’m guessing that this is because internet service here is hitch-hiking on the cellular network.

On Jinja, you then plug this doohicky into the router (see pic, thing sticking in on top) where it produces a wifi network. But, you could just as easily plug the doohicky directly into a laptop and use it locally. As for the the wifi signal – you can pick it up all through the house, but not far outside of it.

It ain’t cheap, and getting back into town to re-load the doohicky is a pain, so you have to be very deliberate with your internet browsing and downloading. I’m guessing that Facebook videos that show automatically in your feed are not your friend. You most certainly do NOT download or stream any video. I have downloaded some books and podcasts. That’s not a huge burden.

Just like the subway does not disappear when your fare card is used up, the internet does not disappear when your SIM card’s data allowance dries up. In fact, Digicel lets you keep accessing certain sites and apps even when you have no data. So far I have discovered that these include Facebook, Facebook Messenger, Wikipedia, and WhatsApp.

Also, any content that has been embedded directly into Facebook can be viewed, even if you are out of data. This is how I was able to have a Rick & Morty marathon on my rainy July 4^th, even though my data was dry – internet saints had posted all Rick & Morty episodes to Facebook.

In my four days without data, I became very proficient in looking for pirated content embedded in Facebook, but only because I had to! I’m a big proponent of always paying creatives for content.

In Bocas Town, wifi is a given at any hotel or hostel catering to a non-Panamanian crowd, or upscale Panamanians. Even so, it’s not always good. I’m not sure if they use the doohicky system or something more regular and by-the-month. What I do know is that even when power goes out (which is often, even when there is no storm), if an establishment has a generator to keep essentials running, wifi is one of them. This is why, as I sit here typing, internet is working at Selina Hostel even thought there are no lights and no water pressure (because the pumps have no power – no water towers here).

Although I HATE to say it, I’m starting to appreciate Comcast a little bit. Just a little bit. Bastards.

And then there’s local phone service – to access this I just bought the cheapest thing that I could, a “candybar” burner phone that takes pay-as-you-go SIM cards. I only turn it on when I need to call a lancha from Jinja Island.

Jinja Island: The Boat/Transit

Don’t let that idyllic photo fool you. This boat is a piece of shit.

That photo is the equivalent a short, homely, dishonest man’s Tinder profile picture – not a complete fake, but a pic from the best possible angle, with the best possible lighting, in the best possible scenario, with a great filter slapped on it – meant to lure in the unwary.

Actually, I shouldn’t disparage the entire boat. The hull is serviceable. I think it’s about as old as I am, though I hope I’m holding together a bit better. It was originally a ski boat. If you know the model, write in for bonus points. The current motor is the villain here – a ’99 70hp Mercury outboard. Saltwater years should be measured like dog-years. That thing needs to be put down.

Which is what Mario, the mangrove mechanic, basically said two days after Graham left me on his island. Muerto. That’s what Mario said when he dropped by Jinja to take a better look. But just in case, he towed it back to his mangrove bat cave to tinker with when he has nothing actually productive to do. Maybe Mario can become the Dr. Frankenstein of ’99 Mercuries.

So here is how this boat “worked”, when it actually worked. First, the tilt doesn’t work. So if you want to raise or lower the motor (which is important if you understand saltwater), you have to actually spark the tilt mechanism on the motor  directly from the battery, which is a car battery sitting a foot away, in no housing whatsoever. Yes, a lot like hotwiring.

Second, the starter is out. So, to start this bitch, you have to remove the cowling from the motor, wrap a rope around the drive head, and pull the shit out, gripping a deck cleat tied to the end of that rope. Yeah. But hey, once you are used to it, no big deal.

That’s what was going on with this boat when it was “working” – before the trip to Mario’s place described in my first Jinja entry. It also didn’t seem to be consuming fuel efficiently – that was the reason to have it looked at – the tilt and the starter were old news. It wasn’t even burning well enough to plane off, so we were plowing through the water at a pitiful pace on what trips we made.

I will say this though – Mario pronouncing it dead was a blessing in two ways. I stopped worrying about what I’d do when the boat shit the bed on me, because it already had. Also, it made the proposition of going into Bocas Town (or anywhere else) much less convenient, which makes my goal of reading and writing that much more attainable.

Cheers, piece of shit boat (motor - sorry, boat hull).

Now I just call Ariel when I need a ride - $25 a pop, which really is quite reasonable when you think about it (map still to come, dammit).

Week One on Jinja Island

The Set-up

Your first question might be, “How did you end up island-sitting in Panama?”

Well, for several months of 2012 I went job-hunting and traveling around New Zealand (I also hopped over to Melbourne and Tasmania for a bit). The job-hunting was a bust, but it was a great trip and I still keep in touch with many people that I met over there (a wonderful function of the oft-maligned Facebook).

One such person was Graham Hughes. Graham and I met serendipitously while standing in line together at the Auckland Seafood Festival (I blogged about it on January 30, 2012). He was obviously a character, and I discovered that he was also something of an adventurer, being 194 countries deep into visiting every country in the world without the benefit of air travel. Though our face-to-face meeting was brief, I friended him on Facebook to follow his remaining travels and we have remained “virtual friends” since that time.

Graham completed his quest successfully, though not without some hang-ups, and was certified by Guinness World Records to be the first person to ever complete this feat. This obviously gained him some degree of notoriety – you might have even seem him on TV or profiled in a magazine or newspaper. Due to this notoriety, he was cast on a UK reality program of some sort, which he won. The prize was a year on your own private island, in Panama. After that year Graham decided to buy said island, and stay a while longer. That, of course, is the short version. For more detail, please visit Graham’s website, or just Google him!

Cut to me. Summer 2016 is approaching, and along with it my 40^th birthday. For my 30^th birthday I took several weeks off of work and backpacked through southern Mexico and Central America with my buddy Mike Wigal, with a side-trip to Cuba (at the time I was with SCAD as an international admission rep, where I accrued lots of extra time off during recruiting season).

I was looking to do something equally memorable for my 40^th birthday, and I’d been considering a similar backpacking trip, or maybe a more thorough exploration of Cuba, or even a trip as far as Beirut, taking advantage of some friends living there (hello, Jesse and PePe – sorry I didn’t make it!).

Then appears a Facebook post from Graham Hughes stating that he needed to return to the UK for a few months and was looking for people that might be willing and able to watch his island for a bit. Perfect timing. That’s why I’m here. I won’t be watching the island for his entire break, but for the first two months of it. After that I hand it off to other friends of his.

Arrival & Orientation

I flew out of Savannah on the afternoon of August 18^th, a Saturday, transferred in Atlanta, and arrived at Tocumen International Airport of Panama City, Panama late in the evening. I then took a cab to the Albrook Inn, very close to the Albrook Airport where domestic flights are based. On Sunday I woke up at 6am and took a quick cab to catch my 6:30am shuttle flight to Bocas Town. 

The flight arrived in Bocas Town at 7:30am and Graham was not there to meet me. That was ok – though he had planned on it, I had not. Graham had told me that there was a big party the night before. No worries. The little airport is immediately adjacent to town, and I packed light, so I walked into town to find coffee and wifi. 

I didn’t have to look long at all, settling in at “Be Nice Café”. After a simple breakfast Graham and I got in touch via Facebook messenger and met up. My orientation began. Graham walked me around town, businesses being clustered along just a few main streets, showing me where I could find all the essentials, and where were good places to hang out when in town. We also met up with Cole, a friend of Graham’s visiting from California.

Leaving Bocas Town, the three of us hopped in Graham’s boat (more on this darling later), which was tied up behind the Brisa Hotel (where he and Cole had spent the night) and headed out into Almirante Bay. Rather than head straight across the bay towards the mainland and Jinja Island, we skirted Isla Solarte and stopped in at the Blue Coconut. 

The Blue Cocount is one of the Bocas area’s many dock-bars, built out over the water, but of particular note because there is nothing else around it and thus has wonderful waters for swimming and snorkeling. It is also the closest bar to Jinja Island, thus Graham calls it his “local”. After a few drinks, a bite to eat, a swim, and some socializing with the other patrons, we moved on to Jinja. 

Graham gave me a basic tour of the island, house, and other structures while Cole got his things together for his departure the next day. It was decided that since Cole was calling a water taxi anyway, Game Seven of the NBA finals was showing, as well as the now infamous “Battle of the Bastards” on Game of Thrones, AND I needed to buy a local phone, that we would all just go back in on the taxi and make a night of it. 

We spent the evening at the heavily 80s-themed, American-run Toro Loco. While Game Seven played, GoT was being pirated using the bar’s wifi (you can’t sign in to HBOGO from here, otherwise we would have!). We checked back into a triple at the Brisa, watched “The Battle of the Bastards” and hit the sack.

The next morning we had breakfast at The Blended Bus (a stationary food truck – ha) and said goodbye to Cole as he hopped onto a water-shuttle to the mainland and then Costa Rica to continue his travels. Graham and I did the necessary errands, including providing me with a local burner phone, and hopped on a water taxi back to Jinja.

Though mainland Panama is easily visible from Jinja Island due to its mountains, two more bays lie in-between. We cranked up Graham’s boat again so that he could give me a cursory tour of these more rustic environs, ringed with various small native settlements and expat homesteads. Jinja Island actually sits at the mouth of the pass to Dolphin Bay that tour boats from Bocas typically use (map to come), and we used this twisting waterway to enter it ourselves. 

Across Dolphin Bay is another pass into a smaller bay which abuts the mainland. This area is known as Tierra Oscura, not for any sinister reason, but because the soil here is darker and good for farming. On the mainland side we eased the boat to a stop at a dockside mechanic shop in a local village built amongst the mangroves. Mario, Graham’s marine mechanic of choice and habit, came out to see what he could do to get the motor running smoother. After a bit of fiddling, Mario said that he’d come out to Jinja on Wednesday with spare parts and see what more might be done. 

Graham and I filled up the spare gas tank at the equivalent of an Old West mercantile store, also built on stilts amongst the mangroves, and carried on. On the way out we stopped at a family farm on Cristobal Island where the owners also run a dockside restaurant called “Valle de las Ranas” – Valley of the Frogs. Half the names around here are frog-related. We had fish tacos, fresh as can be, with the local hot sauce that caught me a bit off-guard, but luckily I had enough cold beer to stop the coughing.

We returned to Jinja Island. That evening and the next morning, Graham finished running me through the various issues I’d have to deal with and tasks I’d be expected to perform. Here’s a list of those, which may be incomplete, and which I will go into more detail about in subsequent posts.

Off-Grid Island Issues:

• Boat/Transit
• Food
• Water
• Power
• Internet
• Waste
• Bugs
• Guests
• Locals

Daily/Weekly To-Do List:

• Feed Campesino, the dog, and actual owner of Jinja Island
• Feed the chickens
• Keep the chickens out of the house
• Look for/Fight termites
• Tend to solar panels and batteries
• Tend to water collection system
• Nail down new/replacement boards on main dock and walks
• Repair loose/broken boards on walks
• Clear vegetation from paths and secondary docks
• Clean up trash (Campesino’s pastime is spreading it) and plant debris
• Come up with morning trivia for the Bocas Emergency Network (BEN) radio show
• Other improvements and projects as necessary or the inspiration strikes

Graham's Farewell, My Watch Begins

On Tuesday morning we called in a water-taxi (hereafter known as a lancha) piloted by Ariel, Graham’s favorite and most relied-upon ride, rather than risk Graham’s vessel when there was an international flight at stake. In Bocas Town we had a couple of farewell beers at Toro Loco and then I walked Graham to the little airport. 

Afterward I stuck around town for awhile, had lunch back at Toro Loco, hung out on the back deck at Selina (the most dominant backpacker hostel in town), and gathering more groceries and supplies. When I couldn’t think of anything else to busy myself with I went to the dock to catch another lancha back to Jinja Island. My solo stay had begun.

From that Tuesday evening when I was dropped off until Friday afternoon when I called for another lancha, I saw only one other person, briefly. Two days in a row, I never even put a shirt on. I got a lot of reading done, most of it laying in the hammock on the boat dock, enjoying the breeze coming in off Almirante Bay. I decided then that taking only one trip per week to Bocas Town would probably not be any hardship at all.

The one person that I did see was a local named Ricardo who lives on nearby Isla Cristobal. He stopped by unannounced and unheard, because he’d paddled up in a small dugout canoe rather than in something with an outboard motor. He said that he sometimes did work for Graham. I told him to come back on Monday and I’d have some things for him to do. All this in Spanish, which is coming back, though my verb tenses are still atrocious.

On Friday afternoon I rode into Bocas Town in Ariel’s lancha after feeding Campesino a double-portion, just in case. I had my list of things to do, and a few people to see that Graham had suggested I say hello to. I spent most of my fun-time at Toro Loco and Selina, but also stopped in at the Grey Lady of backpacker hostels in Bocas, Mondo Taitu for a couple of drinks. Pool was played, people were met, and alcohol was consumed. I finally made my way to the Brisa Hotel and checked into a single room with AC (ah, glorious AC) for the night. The next morning it was the Blended Bus for coffee and breakfast, Serina for more coffee, errands, lunch at Toro Loco (and futbol), and then a lancha back to Jinja. 

In the Next Post...

I promise that next time in Bocas Town I’ll hit some new spots, and hopefully make it over to Isla Carenero, which basically acts as the eastern half of town. Also, I'll describe the physical layout of Jinja Island with some visual aids, and detail Graham's future plans for the island. 

Name Change!

"Adventures in International Recruiting" doesn't really make sense anymore. However, I want to keep the same "advintrec" address. SO, it is now "Adventures in International Recalibration", at least for the duration of my two month stint island-sitting in Bocas del Toro, Panama. Yea-haw.

NZ Train Journey, Days Eight & Nine: Four Whales and a...

Spent only one night in Christchurch after returning from the TranzAlpine trip. Woke at 6:00am in order to catch the first bus to the train station. Train departed at 7:00am. Rode it as far as Kaikoura and hopped off at 9:55am. That gave me time to walk over and book a room at Dusky Lodge and return to the train station for a morning whale-watching expedition. This is what Kaikoura is known for. From the train station office you are bused to the boat launch on the south side of the peninsula (see map).

The boat launch, looking back at the peninsula and the Kaikoura Mountains further back.

So this is primarily what we were after - the Sperm Whale (no giggling). These are impressive creatures. The largest of the toothed whales. The largest brain of any creature, ever. The deepest diving mammal (almost 10,000 feet), staying down for 45 minutes to an hour and a half, sometimes running into and battling with Giant Squid. Its clicking is the loudest sound produced by any living creature - in addition to sonar, they think it can also be used to stun prey. Ok, I'm done raiding the Wikipedia entry - read the rest for yourself.

The weather was perfect and we got 4 sightings of 3 different Sperm Whales. Videos 1 & 4 are of the same whale, Tutu. The second video is of Mati-mati, and the third is of Taiki.

Now enjoy a short movie on Sperm Whales produced by the Te Papa Museum in Wellington:

After returning from the whale-watching, I wandered into the small commercial center of Kaikoura and pigged out on fish & chips & (oddly) sausage. It was part of the deal. I took a picture of it, but it doesn't really look that appetizing, so I'm not gonna force it on you. I'm not one of those bloggers that must always show you their food (yes, there is something wrong with that). Back at the hostel I ran into some people that I had met previously at the hostel in Christchurch. After doing some laundry, we met back up in the common room and played cards. We ended up playing for a bit too long, because once we finally bothered ourselves to walk downtown, all the bars were closed. It wasn't a total loss though - on the walk back we encountered a little hedgehog scurrying about a landscaped island in a parking lot. Yes, it was cute as (that's some kiwi slang there: "adjective + as").

Spent the next morning online, catching up on my favorite blogs and American news. After lunch I went on a three-hour hike of the Kaikoura peninsula with some of my hostel-mates. I forgot my camera. I keep bugging this German girl via Facebook for her pictures, but she has yet to send them to me, so for now you must satisfy yourself with the Google Earth map of the hike (end of post). We were almost attacked by seals. Afterward, more fish & chips & sausage. We almost needed a Roman vomitorium. (However, I just learned from Wikipedia that in the sense I mean, it is a misinterpretation of the term. Still, you know what I mean.) Back at the hostel we commandeered the hot tub out on the back deck for a couple of hours (who says all hostels are rat-holes?). Once we were all sufficiently pruney, we hopped out, dried off, and went inside to play some more cards. This time we ended in time to get to an open bar - the only open bar. Played pool, then to bed.

Woke up, checked out, and caught the train as it passed through from Christchurch to Picton. More on Day Ten (Leap Day) in the next post.

Heading north from Kaikoura...

View Kaikoura in a larger map

NZ Train Journey, Days Six & Seven: My First Tramps

Everybody loves the observation car.

Now, please don't get confused. This entry is picking up from my first visit to Christchurch - the one during my epic train journey around New Zealand. Currently, my actual physical form is once again in Christchurch. However, in this entry my past self will be leaving Christchurch, then returning. Stay with me. Also, since I am now in Christchurch, and writing current posts from here, I'm going to skip describing Christchurch in the catch-up posts.

Days Four & Five: Hang out in Christchurch. Weather is crap up in the mountains, so I put off my continuing train trip until it is supposed to be better. Instead, I take a couple of walking tours of Chch, ride around a bit on a rented bike, play cards at the hostel, and hit a couple of bars with some fellow travellers.

Day Six: Only one Transalpine train leaves per day, so I get up at 7:00am in order to make it to the trains station on time, which requires two buses, with a transfer at the Central Bus Station. I got there just in time, luckily having no bags to check. Travelling with just a day pack on this little jaunt, leaving the laptop and everything else locked up at the hostel office. The train rolled out at 8:15am. Once again, gorgeous scenery. I have already put up videos taken from the train in previous posts, so check those out. Just new stuff here.

This is Arthur's Pass. Boomtown.

The train puts into the Arthur's Pass Station at 10:45am. The weather is perfect. I hit it just right. Before checking into the hostel, I stop by the visitors' information building for trail maps and motherly admonitions about the way that I am dressed and provisioned. (Of course I won't wear these jeans hiking, and of course I will buy food and water first. Sheesh.) At the hostel I decide to just stay in the dorm. It's one night, I have not brought anything valuable with me, and I plan to be so tired by the end of the day that I will zonk out immediately after hitting the pillow. I also manage to get the only non-bunk bed, so no having to put up with someone else clambering about, under or over me.

I had decided through previous research that the Avalanche Peak route would be my first tramp. (Ah, now you get the title - they don't say "hiking" here, they say "tramping.") All the official guides say that it takes 7 or 8 hours, so I guessed that I could probably do it in significantly less time (they always pad it out). Rather than give you a tramp narrative, just look at the pictures:

This is why I don't usually take pictures of myself.

Looking back across the valley at Devil's Punchbowl.

The trail itself, looking NNW.

No guard rails, as you can see...

An adjacent peak.

Looking back down the trail (see the people?).

My first Kea sighting.

This is why I don't usually let people take pictures of me. 

The Kea stalk one of my Israeli peak-buddies.

They have him surrounded! Protect the sandwich!

I have to admit that one of the main reasons for this tramp was to see Kea. Something about them just fascinates me. Parrots in the mountains. They are great - clever, cheeky, tons of personality. Check out this video:

I encourage you to search for other videos of them on YouTube. Very entertaining. Here is a video panorama taken from the summit:

Now, pictures from the hike back down, which was a different trail:

Looking back down at the village.

Looking back up the mountain at a small waterfall.

Same stream, bit further down.

So I made the hike in just over 5 hours, about as I had expected. Good thing too, because it really started to cool off up there as the sun went down. Back at the hostel I showered, changed clothes, and took a little nap. I also met one of my dorm-mates, a 50-something Californian named Dave. We headed next door to the Wobbly Kea restaurant for some dinner. I had a wonderful chicken curry and he had bangers and mash.

Back at the hostel common room, heated by a wood-burning stove, I enjoyed some red wine that I'd brought along, while helping out yet another Israeli with a puzzle. Dave conversed with some of the other backpackers staying at the hostel. Some people just can't resist dragging Americans into discussions of global politics, even when it's obvious that we are on vacation and would rather leave home at home. Dave's antagonist this evening was a young lad of ambiguous ethnic and religious provenance, but if I had to guess I could. Dave eventually just asked him straight out where he was from, and this guy's response was, I kid you not, "I am from my mother!" After that he became increasingly agitated and seemingly on the verge of provoking some physical confrontation with Dave. I was ready to jump in if need be, but then the youngster went out for a smoke and did not return. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

The next day I woke early so that I could make a short hike to Devil's Punchbowl before catching the Transalpine once again as it passed through town.

Crossing the river to the opposite side of the valley.

On the way to the Punchbowl.

Almost there...

And a quick video of the Punchbowl itself. A little vertigo at the end. Sorry.

After this the charge on my iPhone gave out, and I did not bring the Nikon, so no more pics.

Back in town I checked out of the hostel, had some coffee at the Wobbly Kea, and bought some postcards for the Scott kids (which I'm still not sure they have received, eh-hem, Lee). Then I headed to the station and hopped back on the train, taking it to its western terminus, Greymouth. With just 10,000 people, Greymouth is the largest city on the west coast of the South Island. Despite its small size, I actually think that I could live here. Within only 8 built-up, urban blocks it has everything you need - bookstores, department store, grocery store, hardware store, cafes, restaurants, bars, hotels, and even an art gallery. Kind of a cool little place. I only had an hour before having to hop back on the train for the return journey to Christchurch, so I had some coffee, then had a pint of Guinness at the Royal Hotel and chatted with Barry the bartender, who was only a part-time bartender when he was not an engineer on the coal trains.

Map:


View Arthur's Pass and Greymouth in a larger map

Snapshot Catch-up

I now have a new "home base" in Christchurch, so I will attempt to get back on the blog horse. I am WAY behind now, so rather than start from where I left off, I am going to do a very quick catch-up, start making new posts about my present circumstances, and fill in from the back as I have time. Eventually it will all get covered. Promise.

I arrived from Wanaka by bus (Naked Bus, if you must know) two days ago, at about 5pm. The stop was at Canterbury Museum, so I then walked to the Central Bus Station, and caught the local number 12 south to Cashmere. I had a bit of an experience with the bus driver, which I will not go into here, but I will put my complaint to their website in a future post, once I get a response. I leave you in suspense.

The studio apartment where I am staying in on the bottom.

I am staying in a little studio apartment that is part of a small complex on a wooded hillside. The apartment is rented out by an American architect that I met while staying in Auckland. She splits her time between Christchurch and Auckland, but right now she is back in the States, and very generously she offered her place to me while she is gone. It is a bit removed from the CBD, but there is a cafe at the bottom of the hill (5m walk) and a few restaurants and shops a bit further on (15m walk). Getting back to the CBD is easy, as the 12 bus stops at the cafe and heads straight back in. The Orbiter bus stops there as well, making it easy to get to other peripheral neighborhoods without going all the way to the central station and back out again.

The view from the apartment, to the north. You can just see the outline of the mountains.

Enough about now. Since my last post, I obviously finished my little train jaunt around New Zealand. Don't be confused now that I am on the South Island again, in the same town where I stopped writing before. This is my second trip here, and much has happened in-between. I returned to Auckland by ferry and train, and stayed at the Manor for many more weeks, applying for jobs (unsuccessfully, so far). I took another quick trip to Wellington for the annual New Zealand Urban Design Forum, a one-day event of presentations and networking. I made some good contacts, but still no luck subsequently on the job front.

Interactive Catch-Up Map:


View Snapshot Catch-Up in a larger map

Finally, I got a bit discouraged and decided that it was time to leave Auckland and take a better look around elsewhere. I did not quit applying for jobs in Auckland, I just decided that I did not need to sit around there any longer. I'd been hearing since arriving in NZ about how wonderful Melbourne is (many Kiwis go and work there), so I thought I'd go check it out for myself. I actually have been to Melbourne before, but WAY back in 1991 when I participated in a People-to-People student exchange during the summer. I think that I was the youngest kid on the trip. Can't say that I remember a whole lot about it. Also, my great-grandfather James W. Fraser and his family spent some time in Hobart, Tasmania from 1912 to 1914, so I thought that as long as I was relatively close I'd go investigate that as well.

So I left an entire suitcase full of clothes and books at the Manor, and took only what I could fit in a medium-sized pack, also taking a standard back-pack as a carry-on with my computer and other essentials. Travelling very light. I stayed for close to a week in Melbourne and had a great time. I hung out a good bit with a fellow that I met at the Manor, and also with the woman that had sat next to me on the flight to Auckland from LAX. Thanks to her, I even got to go to an Australian Rules Football game. Great fun, and more on all that later.

Next I took the Spirit of Tasmania ferry across the Bass Straight to Devonport, Tasmania. The ferry was an overnighter, so in the morning I caught a shuttle bus at the wharf and drove across the island to Hobart, which is actually on the south side facing away from mainland Australia. I spent much more time in Hobart than I had intended, even pushing back my departure date from Australia in general. Again, I will flesh all this out later. Returning to New Zealand, I spent two nights in Melbourne and then hopped on a flight to Queenstown. There I was met at the airport by my friend Jay, an English actor that I also met at the Manor, and we drove to Wanaka.

In Wanaka I stayed with Jay and his family for about a week. His wife's father owns a winery and three vineyards close to there, and that is why they relocated from London. The father plans to return to the U.K. for a bit, and they will stay to look over things while he is gone. Wanaka (and the whole region generally) is absolutely gorgeous. I have already posted many pictures to FB, but will repost the best here with explanations, etc. Jay and I had planned on driving to Christchurch together, but he caught a chest infection from his 3 year old son and lost a crown on one of his molars, so I decided to carry on without him, while he gets himself fixed up. Hopefully he will come down for a visit soon, as he hopes to have some acting-related business here. That brings us back to the top, and to the end of this entry. More soon.