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.

NZ Train Journey, Day Three: On to Christchurch

A beginning note: There are no new pictures (or video) for this entry. I have already posted what I have from this time (train stuff). Other than that, the day was lousy and rainy, and that doesn't put me in a picture-taking mood. Get over it. In better news, I think this entry is pretty damn literary. Enjoy.

Very proud of myself for staying in and getting up early, I packed my things, had a quick breakfast at the hostel cantina, then walked across the street to the train station to catch the early shuttle to the ferry terminal. I was taking one of the InterIslander ferries, included on my two-week rail pass. These ferries are HUGE and make the crossing of the Cook Strait about a dozen times a day, carrying all manner of other vehicles across with them. It felt very much like being on a cruise ship, except without a cabin. However, there were plenty of lounges, a bar, and a food court. There were also three different outside viewing areas, but the weather was pretty miserable, so I only went outside as we entered the Marlborough Sounds (see previous pics and video) and then docked in Picton.

I lied - one pic, so you can see how shitty and rainy it was.

I only stayed in Picton long enough to have lunch, walk the downtown, and do some quick intertubing at the local library (these things are always centrally located and easy to find - lovely). I had not booked anywhere to stay in Christchurch (from here on out - Chch) because I had an offer of a place to stay from a fellow American that I met at the Verandah backpacker lodge in Auckland. She is an architect, guest-professoring at the University of Auckland while living in Chch and commuting by plane between the two every week. In Chch she lives with a little old lady with extra rooms for rent. Anyway, was planning on staying there, but as of Picton still didn't have any messages letting me in on where this little old lady had an address. Though I could have booked something from Picton, I decided to risk it and hop on the train without making other arrangements.

Though I slept through a bit of it, the train journey from Picton was gorgeous - lush wooded hills wrapped in mist, valleys full of vineyards, and long stretches where the track was hard against the Pacific, squeezed up next to the huge Kaikoura mountains, plunging right into the sea (again, see previous pics and video). Just after the mountains, we made a stop in a little beach town and excursion point called Kaikoura, after the mountains. It sits at the neck of a little headland and is famous as a spot to see marine mammals - seals, whales, dolphins, etc. I decided that I'd definitely have to stop here for a night or two on the way back. After Kaikoura were more tunnels and mountains, hills, valleys, and sheep farms, until finally things flattened out into the Canterbury Plains - the largest expanse of flat land in New Zealand. Here we passed over several braided river beds. These plains were built from sediment washed by these braided rivers out of New Zealand's Southern Alps (much like the South's Piedmont coastal plain was long ago washed out of the Appalachians). Of course all the rivers have interesting Maori names. I'm kicking myself because I cannot find it now, but one river's name I swear translates to "Place Where the Dead Bodies are Piled High, for Eating." Yes, that was quite something to hear on the train's recorded audio commentary - and yes, that comma is there because the narrator quite obviously paused before finishing the translation.

Arriving in Christchurch was very different from arriving in Wellington. Wellington's station is part of a large regional network of commuter trains and lets you off right in the center of things. Chch's station is small and well outside the city center. It is also tucked back behind a suburban shopping center of strip malls and big box stores (friends and family will know how pleased this detail will make me). Still, I figured that I could walk to the CBD, find some internet access, and figure out if I was staying with architect and granny, or if I'd need to book a hostel. My understanding of Chch was off, to say the least. Way off.  First, the walk from the station to the CBD was MUCH longer than I'd estimated. My map was quite misleading because the main city park is HUGE and blocks in Chch are large as well - so my judging of distances from the map was skewed (what's that? look at the scale?). Finally I got to the inside edge of the park, adjacent to where the CBD should be, but I wasn't seeing any open cafes or anywhere else that I might find internet access. A city bus was sitting at a stop with the door open, so I decided to seek some info from the driver.

Poking my head in the open door of the empty bus, I ventured, "Excuse me?"

The bus driver replied, "You're excused."

Really, Christchurch? That's how it's gonna be?

Actually, I think the bus driver felt bad for that juvenile retort, because after that she was quite helpful, directing me towards the nearby YMCA, where I could use the internet and maybe book lodging if necessary. Finally I got out of the drizzle (did I not mention it was raining this whole time?) and was able to check my email. Still no instructions to grandma's house. Sigh. I decided I'd just stay at the YMCA. Nope. Booked up. So were the next five places that I called. This is a good spot to mention that this day was the one-year anniversary of the second earthquake to rock Christchurch - the one that did the real damage. Apparently it knocked out a lot of hotels and hostels as well, and oh yeah, then there's all the people in town on rebuild work. A little supply and demand problem. Finally, I did find a spot at a hostel, but not in a private room. I didn't care. I took it. Another good trudge and I was at "At the Right Place" hotel and hostel - I kid you not. And it was a pretty good place, I must say.

Basically I got a spot in a shed of sorts - not part of the hotel and not attached to the main hostel either, though hostel-style in that it had 5 beds in it (two bunks and a single). That ended up being good, as its separation meant that noise from the common room in the main hostel did not reach. After settling my things I went to that common room to see what was up. There was a motley crew there, as usual in a hostel - people of various nationalities and ages, most younger but not all. This is what I like about hostels - the meeting of new people, sharing of stories, and figuring out what activities we can enjoy together and pass the time with (number one thing I don't like - figuring out who might have enough criminal intent to steal my stuff). I sat at a table and made friends with fellow Dutch, Belgian, Irish, and American travellers in the span of about 15 minutes. We played a little cards, after figuring out what was missing and re-labelling the jokers, but then decided that our time might be better spent finding beer THEN playing cards. It was raining a bit more now, but the Irish and American lads convinced me to go out on safari (which would need no convincing a few years ago).

I'm going to truncate this tale and just say that we bonded by walking for 40 minutes to a grocery store (after various misadventures finding out where this store might be), bought some booze, walked outside to find it pouring rain, and decided that a cab was worth it for the trip back. Then we played cards, drank said booze, and told stories. More later...

NZ Train Journey, Day Two: Wellington

So, as one might expect, I woke up a bit later than I had intended, after my night out with brand-new friends. My original plan had been to go on a walking tour of the CBD that leaves from the visitor information storefront downtown every morning. Didn't make that. So after a late breakfast and a little intertubing, I walked up The Terrance to Cable Car Lane where, guess what, there was the downhill cable car station. I already posted a video of the ride up previously, but below is a video of the panoramic view at the uphill station at the Wellington Botanic Gardens. 

(Note: all locations can be found on the map in the previous Wellington entry)

The Botanic Gardens were awesome. If I lived in Wellington, I'd come up to this free amenity for a walk at least once a week. Maybe a walk and a nap. Watch the video below with the sound turned up to hear what the local insects sound like - they are quite a noisy bunch, but in a good way.

There were pieces of sculpture here and there along the path. Several were interactive, including one that you were intended to step inside of (pic above, Druid Hill). The video below was taken from within it. This is my foray into artsy-fartsy video-blogging...

Once done with walking through the gardens, I walked through the Cable Car Museum. It's amazing how many cities in New Zealand had cable cars and trollies - and this was back when these cities were even tinier than they are now. Yes, I bought the DVD. Next I walked back to town the long way, through Victoria University. Actually, it wasn't that long of a walk, because there are pedestrian cut-throughs going straight down the hill, passing in-between private parcels of land, eliminating the need to follow the car-path. A pedestrian cut-through system like this is something that I and other grad students constantly wished we could establish in American neighborhoods - and look, here it is.

View down the cut-through

Motorway tunnel

National War Memorial

Walked through town, seeing a few sights, and down to the waterfront where the Te Papa museum is located. This is the national cultural museum, and one could spend days there seeing all the exhibits. I drifted through several, but my favorite was the one on the Giant Squid that a long-liner brought up. The actual carcass was right there, in a glass coffin full of brine. Finally I made my way to the hostel and headed to happy hour at the hostel bar. Tony and Isak met me there and we had a few while meeting other residents and playing with the giant Jenga set. Having to hop on the ferry early in morning, I made an early exit, which was regretful, as the happy hour group had decided to head to Cuba Street to hear some live music and continue the drinking...

Irish Slingblade and the Giant Jenga