Finality

I'm leaving tomorrow. My bike's all packed in a box and I hope the girls in the lfight companies were right about me just strolling over to qantas and paying 120 aussie dollars for them to fly the big box home to Denmark. We'll see tomorrow. It's very interesting.
It's also very strange to be leaving, it felt so familiar to come back, or home to New Zealand. It's autumnal and recognisable and mountainous and might as well be Scandinavia, just with nikau palms and cabbage trees.

But I do look forward to home, to see my friends, my family, have a job, eat Danish rye bread and liquorice, hold hands with the loved one every day and sleep in the same bed every night, to not share dorm rooms with snooring strangers, to have more than two sets of clothes. It's also slightly scary. What if I forget how wonderful this was and don't go out again? If I just get a nine to five and have kids and tell about back when mum was cool and biked New Zealand and sailed to Fiji?
I don't think I will forget though. I'll probably remember so hard that there is no option but going out again.

Again, again again, I have to come back to this place.

Jumping ship - still here

I've jumped ship tih the cheaf, and it's over a week ago, but we've lolled about on a beach where internet is a thing of the future. After close to four months of sailing we had had enough  ship and gone on land. We hopped of in Taveuni and didn't get further than 100 meters away from the landing spot, before we found beverleys campground, which is a little slice of paradise. There's no hot water, only generator electricity, fantastic snorkelling right by the beach which you are at and you can kayak to the shop, various hidden beaches and villages. It's so fantastic we ended up staying for  week rather than a few days. Now we're in Savusavu, which is a little disappointing after Taveuni, but quite alright. It's just that all the other tourists are spoiling the feel and there's no beach to go snorkelling. And Fiji towns aren't that much.

Tomorrow we're heading to Labasa on the northern side of Vanua Levu, probably back to Savusavu and then I might go to Ba to visit mrs Kumar, on a tour into the highlands of Fiji, and back to SUva to say hi to Alex, get some souvenirs and send them home with all the other things I don't need and then fly out from Nadi the 24th.

Hotching with bikes

I've already had one bike break down - the derailer twisted itself into bits right after leaving Picton and I got it replaced and pedalled on. Betty the bike didn't seem quite happy though, and both me and a couple of English lads on bikes (Alan and Rob of the Possum Posse) fettled quite a lot around to fix her up to run smoothly. It didn't quite work out fully, and the blame was put on a slightly twisted derailer hanger in need of a change in Nelson.

I didn't make it any further than Pelorous Bridge, which is app. 15 km off Havelock. There I had a lunchbreak, went up the hill and heard a nasty crunching sound, which I recognized before I put my foot down as a broken derailer. This time it was the hanger snapping of, the gear wire breaking, and the rear tyre axle which holds Bob the trailer bending a bit. Not possible to go anyfurther anywhere. The ressourceful person runs up to the Kiwi experience bus full of kids with rasta hair, hangovers, purple harem pants and new SDI's and asks the driver if there are any free seats. There isn't. The driver's pretty cool, though, and checks if there are other buses passing by today. There isn't.

Pelorous Bridge has a nice little camp site, so there's no need to panick, apart from the fact that there's no phone reception, and I was supposed to call Madeleine when getting to Nelson. I can't even call to say I may be a day late.

The resourceful person then mills around the parking lot noting all the big cars that could fit a bike, asking if they are going to Nelson. No one is.

Then the ressourceful person stretches out a thumb, and several sympathetically stop to ask if they can help with a quick fix, they do have tools, but unfortunately not space for a bike and trailer.

I do another car park round and someone does have space, it turns out, and that's the NMIT having been on a field trip with the full Asian student body. I go in one car with bike, and the luggage goes in the other van, and all goes to Nelson, where the story ends happily at Stewarts bike shop, where everything damaged is straightened, replaced and fixed within a couple of hours. Betty the bike rolls smoothly on again, and I apparently wear out chain per thousand km.

Next stop Nelson

We're heading to Nelson tomorrow to see if we can get work as apple pickers. Considering the experience we already have from picking apples off wild growing trees, it shold be possible.
Otherwise there's the Abel Tasman national park to explore and grapes in Blemheim, that won't be ready for another couple of weeks though.
My panniers have not arrived yet, but I think I can make it to Nelson without strewing my belongings all over the highway. Neither has the mysterious package from the lovely boyfriend, but when it arrives I'm hitching back to pick up both packages.
I'm on bike, Madeleine gives hitching a try and then it'll be interesting to see who gets there first.

Geographic inspiration - places to go before I die

They have a huge stack of old national geographics at the hostel, some dating back to the fifties, but the bulk is from back when mama was a boy* and USSR and East Germany still existed. Ihave ofcourse poured over them, read about all sorts of animals from wolves over whales and head lice, natural phenomonons ranging from hot springs over desert dunes and perma frosts, as well as exotic people and places - the older ones with horrifying and horrifyingly amusing views on the wild africans/new guineans/native americans/Arab deserts/USSR collectivefarms/Patagonia etc.
It's still pretty inspiring, and aparting form wanting a subscription badly (pretty hard when you don't have a permanent adress) there's a million places I want to go. Then there's all the people going through here with some pretty fantastic stories to tell. They've given a few ideas as well.

• Bike around the Baltic Sea
• Bike & hike Eastern Europe
• Bike the UK; Dover to Dunnet/Easter Head (that's the northernmost point in Scotland according to Wikipedia)
• Kayak the Donau
• Go by motorbike (cause I'm not THAT sporty) from Patagonia and all the way up through Latin America
• Bike USA from coast to coast
• Get a work holiday visa to Canada because you can get that until you're 35, and be a lumberjack and travel by train
• Sail the Pacific
• Travel on the transsiberian railroad
• Africa - the places where you don't risk ending up in a war/civil war/pirate lair/gold mining conflict
• Bike the East Coast of Australia
• Ski from Kemi, Finland to Kirkenes, Norway with Papa Bear
• Learn dog sledding on Svalbard
• Greenland!
• Climb mountains in Central Asia
• To be expanded

How about you guys?


*Anglified Danish joke. Does it work in English?

Queen charlotte track

Got food, map, bike, batteries, band aids for the sore toe - marlborough sounds here i come!

Masterton - and random rambling abut food

Delayed publishing - this was written on Friday I think.

On the bike again, and having a muserum & internet stop in Masterton. It's quite nice, the museum and i found a booklet on Scandinavian immigrants, that I'm looking very much forward to read in the evening. Cmap sites usually have year old copies og reader's digest and OK! magazine (aussie's answer to se & hor for the Scandinavians)

The towns are quite close to each other here, so I think I'll continue to Greytown before I call it quits for the day. It's only 11 km more, and I have bottle of wine in the pannierbag to keep me going and the camp sites are uausally cheaper and nice in smaller towns. Oh, and the wine is for dinner when I've finished biking, not for drinking while on the bike.
I stocked up big time on food before leaving Napier, but here's lots of wineries and farm shops and I really did not need food for the full week before heading out, there are shops in between Napier and Wellington, and cafes, and bars, and restaurants and pubs and tearooms, so there's no risk of starving. It's really just a matter of how cheap or expensive you're going (self made sandwiches at rest stops on the road side is of course cheaper than the pub meal) and checking the route. I might need packing food for a week somewhere on South Island, and it's good knowing I can do that, but there's really no need to overload when I pass be a zillion road side fruit stands and cosy little country pubs a day, even though I go through quite a lot in just one day. Biking makes you hungry. It makes you happy too though.

Eketahuna - day off with the kiwi birds

I'm on the road, left napier on Sunday it must have been, and headed to the south. I've stayed in Waipawa and Dannevirke, had a long lunchbreak in Norsewood, where I was invited for coffee with a Norwegian family who works the infocentre and splits their time in between Norwegian and New Zealand summers. It\s been good going a lot cooler and very nice to get out again. Tuesday I arrrived at Eketahuna, where there\s a domain camping (which is a sort of nature reservee with camping) and it's only five dollars, with hot showers, laundry and farm eggs for the campers. Ekehatuna itself is tiny, there's only 600 inhabitants and it's basically just a stretch of houes and some cafes and shops and a library with free internet and use of computers (hence no pictures today) along highway 2. But my legs felt like logs when I woke up, which may be a delayed effect of running into a familiar face in Dannevirke and having a few at and irish pub.

Mount Bruce wild life sanctuary is just 8 km down the road from Eketahuna, I hitched a ride back and forth and saw kiwi birds in cages. They have a white one. It was quite neat, and now I know what the fuss is all about, but I might be too tired to really have appreciated it.
The plan for the rest of the day is to go back to the camping ground and hope nobody\s nicked my now clean underwear and there I'll faff about and read something, write something, eat chips & chocolate and drink tea. And napping. Possible tighten up a screw or two on the bike.

Tomorrow I'm heading to Masterton/Carterton/Greytown depending on the feeling, then Featherston and from there I'm taking the train to Wellington - there's a big bad hill, heaps of road work and much traffic, so it's not recommendable biking there.All in all, I ought t be In Wellie by the weekend.

The Gannets

I don't know what gannets are called in Danish even, I suspect they may not have a name, being foreign to Scandinavia. These gannets in speaking are black reef gannets and they live by Cape Kidnapper, that being the largest mainland colony. You get there by the beach - there's a bous tour along a private road and a tractor tour by the beach for the lazy and rich as well. Walking by the beach is by far the better way, it's a beatiful tour, just remember to time it with the tide, it get's all the way up to the rock face. The gannets shriek strangely, but are quite at ease with all the tourists oogling them. In any case, the birds have an easy revenge in case you get to close to their nests. Hats may be recommendable, and not just for the sun. It smells, or rather stinks like guana as well, the birds are nestled so closely together.

the birds

To my pleasure it was actually possible to bike along the beach to the cape itself on the sand with a ligth load of only some sandwiches and bananas and a sleeping bag. All the heavier stuff was left at the hostel in their garage. For those in horror of how I can treat my bike like thar; I did wash it of nicely right after.

The beach bike

The view

Return from Napier it's sixty kilometer and I could have made it back for dinner in case I'd wanted to. It's very nice to have the option of making tours out like that, without a bike, it would have been quite a journey getting there and back again.

I stayed out the night on a beach near Clive with some French backpackers who where camping out in vans. We made a fire and had beer and talked of bicycles and travels and I borrowed a tent to sleep in despite my original plan of just roughing it on the beach in my bag sleeping under the stars. That was not permitted in the presence of the young, bright future lawyers and doctors of France. It strikes me rather often on this tour that Scandinavian men are hideously uncourteous. It's not about being an old-fashioned gentleman and genders and rights and all that, it's just that they tend to be quite frankly rude and impolite. I want them to be polite and nice, not because I'm a female, but because I am a person. Well, that's not really the main subject today.

The tour from Napier out to Cape Kidnapper and the birds goes along the coast, there's a bicycle path most of the way at the grace of banks and rotary clubs and whatnot with hideous commercials of children with artificial smiles and bike helmets disturbing the view. The coast is quite rugged, contrasted by pretty little houses, that obviously belongs to someone with a good income and wife with plenty of time for making chic rural decorations and there's hardly anyone to see on the way at all.

Gisborne to Napier - the tour

Tuesday : Gisborne - Doneraille Park (Wrong turn and ride for the last part) app. 45 km

Wednesday: Donneraille Park - Hackfalls arboretum, app. 15 km

Thursday: Hackfalls arboretum - Frasertown, app. 40

Friday: Frasertown - Putorino, 56 km

Saturday: Putorino - Napier, 60 km, ride for the past 20 km.

191,74 km total ridden on bike, two rides in trucks with cars in the back - note that I wasn't hitching, but rather offered rides randomly by sympathetic people on my way up steep hills while pushing bike. Not quite sure if that's good or bad. Average speed 12,6 km/t, bike computer claims maximum speed was 99,9 km/h, though that is hardly correct, I believe it's around 40 km/h. I have a positive on 38,8 km/h. Number of accidents seen: 1, motorbiker swerved to right and crashed with car, luckily at low speed and only busted an ankle. Ambulance (or actually firefighters) arrived after 45 mins. I'll definitely keep on the hi-vis vest, neon helmet and flag, pull over for the big trucks and keep to the right, i.e left side of the road.

Tuesday : Gisborne - Doneraille Park (Wrong turn and ride for the last part) app. 45 km

Wednesday: Donneraille Park - Hackfalls arboretum, app. 15 km

Thursday: Hackfalls arboretum - Frasertown, app. 40

Friday: Frasertown - Putorino, 56 km

Saturday: Putorino - Napier, 60 km, ride for the past 20 km.

There's a bloody lot of hills in this country and I'm definitely not used to roadbiking with a heavy load.The bike's good though, I'm using the gearing to the max already, but still have to practice handling the trailer a bit, it gives me trouble when stopping, it's hard to park and so far I've solved that by stuffing my sleeping bag under the trailer to prevent it from toppling over, which doesn't raely make for apermament solution though. I'm not quite sure if it's possible to do anything else, can you fit a kick stand to a bobtrailer? When on gravel rode, it slides sidewards upphil on angled roads, which makes the whole bikeandtrailer-thing jack-knifing on me and everything then falls over. I'm getting stronger arms from pushing it back up though.

I've gotten a silicone saddle cover to prevent a sore bum, and so far I think it's doing the job quite well, but it's only been put to the test on a leisurely 50 km ride without luggage and lots of photo stops on flat ground.

The tour;

I started out from Gisborne quite late in the day, despite a plan of an early morning. A good bye fiest of Danish Frikadeller & veggies (meatballs) and complementary Carlsberg with some of the Argentinian Che's (Pollo, Jose and Fran) from the flying nun delayed getting up early. I also realized that I have more belongings that what actually fits on a bike, even with a trailer, and ended up leaving bits and bobs behind in Pollo's van, with whom I anyway have a date with down south. No, not like that, on the South Island, and he's my friend. You guys!

I got out of the hostel, out of Gisborne and made a wrong turn, which cost me quite few extra kilometers, since I didn't really notice very much else than the beautiful alandscape, how surprisingly comfy it was to ride my bike and that it was much less hilly than described. At last my suspicion was aroused by a road sign pointing to cities I didn't plan on seeing, and after meticulously consulting my map I turned back and found the right exit. It was a lot hillier, but still very pretty. In between the late start and the wrong turn it had grown late in the day, and pushing uphill I was offered a ride by the local road maintenance guy, who gave a me a lift all the way to Doneraille park, which I was very happy to accept. There I erected my tent, cooked dinner and had drinks with two French guys who where quite excited to have female solo biker in the tent next to theirs as well as two kiwi sisters at 18 and 22 out camping.

Day two started with the uphill from Doneraille Park, and then it continued with more uphill. At the side road to Hackfalls Arboretum I had lunch at the local pub and consulted the owner wether it was worth a detour going to the arboretum. At cofirmation, I ventured inwards, and apart from the gravel road (it's official, I hate gravel) it's a lovely place. After scaring all the cows , you come to a pretty little lake sourrounded by greenery, pay 10 dollars for access to 50 acres of park and are free to enjoy yourself and wander about. I doled out another 10 for staying in the sheep shearers quarters that were deserted and hence all to my use, meaning I had both kitchen, bedroom and bathroom all to myself as well as an amazing view. It felt very luxurious after tents and dormitories in hostels.

Day three I continued along the road, with breaks here and ther to enjoy the landscape, had lunch at a very uncharming road shoulder - but hunger is nothing to mess with when biking - and did a very lucky water run in the afternoon. Nerys did 'but of course' give me water, with ice, a ride back to other farm where I'd left my sleeping bag on the ground, an invitation to se the sheep being sheared, and there I got a long, thorough, informative and interesting explanation on sheep and cattle farming in modern New Zealand by Nerys' husband Mike. I also got acquainted with their daughter Grace of four years, who quickly warmed up and found it fantastic to have her very grown up to play with. Then they invited me for dinner - lamb roast and potatoes and mint jelly and fantastic things - along with two friends stopping by and gave me cider beer and told me jokes and in general had a very good time, and then I was tucked in with a real pillow and matress in their living room. A lot more than I had expected coming in for a water refill and a very nice view into rural life in New Zealand, which now seems very appealing on some aspects. Getting up at four thirty in the morning to go and find the sheep to be sheared might not be all that appealing if I really had to do it, but Mike's tales of riding out in the dark and sseing the sun rise from the hills definitely had ring to it. They're an absolutely charming family and I'm really amazed at how strangers are welcomed in this country, it's an absolute delight to be able to come as a stranger and leave as a friend.

Day four I continued after a solid breakfast at Nery's and Mike's, with plans of going all the way to Lake Titiroa, which is a good 70-80 km from their place. Of course I didn't make it - I slept on a river bank 15 km from the lake. It's a beautiful tour, lots of grand views and lots of up and downs. A good advice is to eat before going up the steepest hill, not after, to have the energy to go through the ordeal. This part of the tour being on the actual highway, I did find that drivers are very considerate, giving lots of space and often a friendly little toot in the horn and waves and smiles. I'm apparently also being included in the motorbiker's club, who with subtle signs give greetings and warnings along the road. The only actual dislike are the log trucks, they're so huge they hardly can sverwe or lower the speed, which basically means I'm pulling onto the side and stopping for them rather than the other way around. It's nice guys driving though, I got a lot of cheers and waves from them.

Day five the good old legs where getting tired and I had an ice cream break at Titiroa village and then a long lunchbreak at the lake itself, not feeling very much like continuing. These days had all been so hot the tar was literally seeoing out of the asphalt.

I did continue, the road rolls and undulates, as said in Pedaller's paradise, which is a very recommendable book for biking in NZ, all the way to the Devil's hairpin, and as the name says, it's a long sharply curved hill, which goes on for ever. On one of the roadshoulders up ther I ran into Kris, not literally, and he offered me a ride up the hill, which ende up being all the way to Napier. On the way don the hill we came across an accident, which luckily turned out to be not so serious after all, but did look very nasty to begin with; a motrbiker had crashed with a car sligthly to the side of the front. The guy on the bike was a sturdy old badger, who took it all quite coolly and reckoned he'd 'just busted his ankle'. It took 45 minutes before any official help was there, there's rarely phone coverage due to all the mountains. I had rather had time abstracting form the thought that it'd have been pretty bad if I had been to crash with a car. If I promise to drive carefully and always wear my helmet and keep to left of the road we'll expect it not to happen, right?

And then I was in Napier, and here I've been lulling about being a naughty girl who haven't bothered to write or do very much of anything sensible, which has been most enjoyable.

Ruten

Jeg var på besøg hos Beverly i går aftes; hun bor i Gisborne med sine teenagebørn og er en væver dame i halvtredserne og en ivrig langdistancecyklist. Jeg fik te og kage og en masse gode råd.
Vi spredte kort og bøger ud over hele bordet og planlagde en grov rute over det allermeste af New Zealand. Først fra Gisborne ned til Wellington langs østkysten, nusse lidt rundt vest for Picton i Nelson og Marlborough, til Abel Tasman nationalpark, ned langs vestkysten med diverse stop her og der for vandreture, ind ved Haast til søerne og Queenstown, ned til Invercargill og Bluff of over til Stewart Island og vandre. Så op langs østkysten og ind og se noget af midten af sydøenomkring Otago, op til Christchurch, gennem Arthur's pass og tilbage til Picton og nordøen. Der cykler jeg gennem de centrale dele med Tongariro, Lake Taupo og Rarotonga for at se på bjerge og vulkansk aktivitet, så op til Coromandel Peninsula og en færge til Auckland. Da skulle det gerne være slutningen af Maj, og så hopper jeg på en flyver til Fiji for at se den allerdejligste Jes der.

I've been planing the route with Beverly's help, she is a very nice lady, that I'm strongly tempted to call a pretty cool chick, which I think she´ll be allrigth with. She lives in Gisborne with her teenage kids, and does lots of long distance biking, so I got heaps of good advice and we came up witha tour wich covers pretty much all the parts of NZ, that I haven't seen yet. I'll start with going down to Wellington along the East Coast, then frolick about in Nelson, Marlborough and Abel Tasman National park, go down south along the West Coast and mountains with strategic stops for hiking, relaxing, kayaking and whatever I feell like doing. On Haast I'll be going inland to the lakes and Queenstown, form there all the way to Bluff, pop over to Stewart Island for a hike, do some of Otago, up to Christchurch, over Arthurs pass and up to Picton and back to the North Island. Then I'll go along the central parts, Tongariro, Lake Taupo and Raroronga, up to Coromandel and from there a boat to Auckland. The it should be late May/early June, and I'll hop on a fligth to Fiji to meet my beloved Jes.


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Ud igen - Gisborne

Jeg er stadig i Auckland, og i princippet er der vel en del jeg kan foretage mig her, men i realiteten er der langt til alting og busserne går kun en gang i timen. Så jeg har faktisk kun nusset rundt i Aucklands kunstmuseum, parkerne i nærheden, biblioteket med frit internet og nede ved havnen, hvor man kan glane på gigantiske lystyachts og neonbelyste juletræer. Efter lige lovlig lang ventetid tager jeg ud igen med en lillebitte franskmand, der transporterer mig ned til Gisborne nu i eftrermiddag. Vi regner dog med at bruge et par dage på turen, der ellers kan gøres på en dags tid, men er enige om at slow travel is good travel.
Nede i Gisborne skal jeg få fingeren ud og få et kørekort og øve mig lidt i at køre bil. Jeg har også snakket med to engelske piger om at overtage deres bil om en måneds tid, når de skal flyve fra Auckland. Det er en lille rap Honda Civic 2.2, der nok bør kunne transportere mig og en codriver rundt. Og hvis jeg ikke kan få et rigtigt arbejde må jeg se om det der woofing måske kunne være interessant.

Island time

Alting tager lidt længere tid oppe nordpå, der man ikke når i dag, når man måske i morgen. Eller overmorgen. Der gælder også jobinterviews - jeg var der, chefen var ikke.
Dermed tager jeg også er par fridage og kører med the californiasurferdudes justin og michael op til 90 miles beach. Solen er også endelig begyndt at skinne efter troperegnen, så der er er ganske godt tidspunkt at tage surf og kørelektioner på stranden.

Auckland til gulf harbour/orewa

Paa trods af at transporten er noget mere besvaerlig end jeg regnede med har jeg naaet et godt stykke og modt en del interessante mennesker.
Jeg tog faergen fra auckland op til gulf harbour og ville overnatte paa doc's campsite i shakespear nationalpark og spurgte en af jakkesaetsherrerne hvordan man nemmest kommer derud. Det gor man med bussen, men han ville da meget gerne give mig et lift. Jakkesaetsherren viste sig at hedde christo og var lidt bekymret for at parken maaske var lukket pga skadedyrsudryddelse og gav mig sit telefonnummer, hvis nu der var noget. Parken var lukket, men jeg naaede den sidste bus ud og blev sat af i orewa, hvor der er en helt almindelig campsite. Der kom haengekojeteltet op for forste gang, og var glimrende at sove i. Jeg skrev en lille sms om at jeg var endt i orewa i stedet og sov der og christo (og melinda) skrev tilbage at det var godt og at de er ved at bygge et hus i bay of island, saa naar jeg kom derop skulle jeg sige til.

Din nabo gor det ogsaa

Der er flere end mig paa langtur, selvfolgelig, maa man naesten sige. En af dem er liam fra dublin, der cykler fra auckland til osaka. Han er lidt mere velorganiseret og velopdateret, saa hvis man keder sig herinde en dag, kan man tjekke liams epic bike ride.
Et andet par paa tur er kaare og lillian fra norge, der bruger sine senioraar paa at sejle jorden rundt. De er ude med skibet kilico, som jeg spottede med et norsk flag i whangarei marina. De er de forste skandinaver jeg havde set indtil videre, saa selvfolgelig myldrede jeg ned paa kajen for at hoere hvem de var. Kaare og lillian har sejlet norge-middelhavet-kanarioerne-brasilien-syd om latinamerika-stillehavet-nz paa tre aars tid. De er paa vej hjem paa juleferie i norge pt, der er nemlig orkansaeson i det sydlige stillehav et par maaneder fremover. Whangarei er et af de klassiske oplaegningspladser hernede, og marinaen er velfyldt over jul frem til marts, hvor sejlerne fortsaetter.

Auckland og videre

Auckland er en maerkelig by, centrum er den kedeligste del med skyskrabere skytower og ikke saerlig meget andet. I forstaederne kan man derimod finde gamle fort ud mod havet med hemmelige tunneller og hvide strande blandt sorte lavaklipper, botaniske haver i kolonistil, kunstmuseer og historiske museer med udstillinger om Maorier og britisk kolonitid, graesklaedte vulkaner med udsigt over hele Auckland.

Jeg har boet paa et billigt, larmende hostel midt i centrum naesten helt nede ved kajen, sammen med en masse meget unge backpackere. Dog rendte jeg ogsaa ind i to californiske surfere, justin og Michael og Lennart fra Tyskland, som er paa min alder. Vi lavede hurtigt en aftensmadsgruppe og en aftale om at moedes oppe nordpaa. Jeg tager nemlig videre i dag, med faergen til Gulf bay, hvor man kan overnatte paa DOC's campingplads ud til havet. Saa videre op nordpaa paa tommel og gaaben, til Justin og Michael har fundet sig en klassisk backpackervan med den rette kombi af skramlet, billig og brugbar.

Jeg moedtes med Paul, der er son af en af Lars og Jannes slaegtninge ret langt ude i Canada. Han tog gerne mit ekstra grej til opbevaring, saa jeg hverken skal bekymre mig om det. Newzealaendere er utroligt hjaelpsomme, indtil videre har jeg faet spontan hjalp til at finde vej, rejsetips, kaffe og fries med Mr. Hantoto, der er en aeldre indonesisk gnetleman, som kedede sig udenfor kirken, mens hans kone var til gudstjeneste, og en laengere snak om at rejse, en oekonomiske ituation i Europa og meget andet med Sylvia ved et busstoppested.

Her er eksotisk paa saa mange maader, palmetraer  overalt og fuglekvitter, der lyder fuldstaendig anderledes end hjemme. Det giver mening at fugle hedder ting som tuitui og kaka.Alligevel er det ogsaa saert velkendt og britisk, og alting fungerer ganske gnidningsloest. Der er rene offentlige toiletter overalt og smaa drinking water taps, hvor man kan fylde sin vandflaske, alt er helt utrolig rent og paent og grafitteloest og nybygget. Og maaske en lille smule kedeligt. New Zealand er ikke et land man tager til for at se byerne.

Det varer noget tid til jeg kommer i naerheden af net naeste gang - sandsynligvis - det med telefon og net er ret dyrt og ret besvaerligt. Men jeg lover at faa lagt billeder op da. Her er smukt.

Undervejs

Har drukket pints i London med aeldre britiske businessmaend og sovet paa sofa i Heathrow. Flojet til Singapore og shoppet elektronik og undret mig over hvor maerkvaerdige og andreledes byer kan vaere. Spist mad jeg ikke vidste hvad var. Skal straks videre til Auckland. Singapore air er seje.

Til Solvej, jeg bruger stadig min rucmail, du maa ogsaa have det godt. Indtil videre er det spaendende ikke helt begyndt endnu :-).

This bird has flown it's cage

Jeg lover nu at komme hjem igen

Smukt bureaukrati

Jeg søgte om visum igår på nettet. Når man kommer fra Danmark skal man bare på tro og love hævde at man ikke er gravid, farlig, syg, fattig og har forsikring og penge til ophold og billet hjem. Så får man godkendt visum dagen efter. Jeg elsker mit rødbedefarvede pas, billetten til world wide frihed. Det er fantastisk, at det er så nemt.

Nyt om Nina

Jeg har:

• båret ting ned i kælder
• bagt to kager, der smagte dejligt, men lignede katastrofer
• fejret fødselsdag med et orgie af kager og dejlige venner
• roet 58 km i kajak
• sovet i et klasselokale med fire snorkende roklubsherrer
• stået op klokken fem en søndag morgen - frivilligt!
• codrivet fra Randers til København
• båret ting op af kælder

Udførlig rapport følger senere, nu skal der spises og soves først.