LONG TRIP HOME

Tom, here. OK, this will be my first real attempt at blogging (I really don’t like that word, so will try to come up with an alterative, or will gladly accept suggestions). As it is, we’re now partially settled in Takaka, so will try to summarize the past week so as to not be too overwhelmed…or too overwhelming. Fortunately for all of us, reading this is entirely optional…not like a letter from your mom… so feel free to skip the boring or poorly written parts, which, for all I know, may be all of it.

After leaving Homer our first week was spent in La Manzanilla, Mexico….a small town on a great beach with all the delightful things one can expect of a small Mexican town; dirt roads, good street food, cheap beer and smells that change dramatically from moment to moment as you walk through town. If you’ve never experienced this, it can be simulated in your own home in the US by doing the following: In the kitchen, fry some hamburger with lots of chili powder. In a different room, spray some floral air freshener (real flowers would do if available). Then invite your least respected family member to have a bowel movement (in the bathroom, of course). Now, stroll from room to room. To make this simulation even more realistic, smear yourself with lots of sticky cream such as sun lotion and turn your heat up to about 90 degrees.

Being in La Manz for a week, we were about as relaxed as one could get and still be able to stand up. Our daily schedule consisted of waking, eating fruit and guacamole, drinking, walking on the beach, eating and drinking some more, then me going for a swim while Chris reads under a sun umbrella on the beach, then more of the same. For my own entertainment and scientific knowledge, I decided to test my Mom’s theory that swimming within 1 hour of eating would result in painful cramping and certain death. So I stuffed myself with tacos and beer and jumped right in. I’m happy to report that I’m fine, but a little distressed that my Mom had deceived me all these years.

After a week of down time in Mexico, we reloaded our giant suitcases and began the trek – a more accurate descriptor would be “confinement” – to New Zealand. Bear in mind that besides two huge bags each, I had my full-sized guitar and a stuffed daypack and Chris had a computer with all the related gear and a not-too-small tote bag containing one of everything. The flight from Manzanillo airport to LA was a total fluke, as we had been – and I’m sure it must have been a mistake – upgraded to first class. This was my first time with the beautiful and/or large people so I did enjoy sneering at the coach-class victims as they waddled past our large, leather, recliners while we sipped our sauvignon blanc. The downside was that this only softened us up for the flight from LA to Sydney, where we were shoehorned into seats, the size of which, and legroom so sparse as to make me think we were mistakenly put in the kids section. I have heard this is how veal calves live their whole lives, so I thought it would be funny to get all the other steerage passengers to start moo-ing in unison while the crew was serving our cardboard, sandwich look-alikes. Maybe it was best that Chris talked me out of it, but thanks to United, we are tougher, more disciplined people today.

So we made it to Sydney Australia, and in less than an hour…about the amount of time it took to stand upright again…we were on our way to Christchurch; not an actual church, but a semi-large city on the east coast of the south island of NZ. The plan was to spend about a day and a half there to complete an impossibly long list of tasks, not the least of which was to find and buy a car. I am both surprised and pleased to report that we actually ticked everything off the list, which included, but was not limited to the following: Found a car, got NZ money to buy it, got car and car insurance, got a cell phone, bought a used TV and new DVD player (gotta see them movies), bought towels, sheets, blankets, pillows, an alarm clock, a coffee pot and enough other stuff to fill the new Subaru S/W to the gills and still get out of town with time to spare.

The real challenge, of course, was to get out of town without either causing or participating in a serious car crash due to the fact that Kiwi’s still insist on driving on the wrong side of the road, not to mention that they still put the steering wheels on the wrong side, too. For the first few days, it was like a Chinese fire drill getting into the car…driver heads for the left side and passenger heads for right…then both continue on around the car till they get to the correct door. I’m happy to announce that we’ve (actually, “I’ve”) driven for a week now without life-threatening incident.

After walking around Christchurch for a day and a half, it was sure good to get back to sitting for another 9 hours for the drive to Takaka, which is as far as you can drive from Christchurch and still be on the same island. We took the coastal route as opposed to the mountain route, but didn’t see anything that wasn’t visible through the car windows at 100KPH. At this point, it was like we were headed up the creek to spawn…no messing around with stuff like eating or recreation. Didn’t even stop at any of the hundreds of wineries we passed…and this is straight through the heart of Marlborough country…white wine heaven.

Fortunately, we made it over the Takaka Hill barely before dark. If you’ve never driven The Hill or heard about it, suffice to say that it appears to have been designed by a snake. A Local told us that there’s one curve for every day of the year. I’ll count next time. I’m telling you, this road is curvy, and did I mention, steep? The good part is that it would be hard to get sleepy on this stretch, but if one did, it’s unlikely that the 2X2’s with a piece of wire that pass for a guardrail would do the trick of stopping a 2000# car from plunging the thousand feet to the bottom.

We blew into Takaka about 9PM and were met by our friend, Judith Rothstein, who is living here, too. Through the New Zealand darkness, she led us to our little place on Patons Rock Road, which is where I sit 4 days later.

It was actually raining when we arrived and much of the next day, but still comfortable in shorts & T-shirt. We’re told that there hasn’t been any rain in this area for over 2 months and some parts of NZ are experiencing a severe drought, which is getting serious news coverage on NZ radio due to lots of cows dying for lack of feed related to lack of water.

But for the white-ies from Alaska, the weather has been perfect…warm days and cool nights. First thing in the morning, open all doors and windows. Last thing at night, close the doors. No heat, no cooling, no long johns, no Extra-Tuffs, no coats, no snow, no problem.

The first few days were a flurry of trying to get settled…getting the lay of the land, finding where to shop for various things, looking into phone and electrical service, setting up a bank account, getting an address, arranging stuff in the house and making lists of things we need in order to make it more like home. The house is perfect in most respects…small enough to be manageable without being a burden…large enough to hold our stuff and perform all critical household functions such as cooking, sitting, sleeping and even entertaining a person or two if we manage to make any friends. It’s definitely a summer place; just the bare bones items are furnished, but despite its small size, could sleep 9 non-claustrophobes. The deck is great, yard is quite private despite fronting a road, has a washer and nice clothes drying rack outside.

The major bummer so far is that we were deluded into thinking that broadband internet would be available in the neighborhood. It isn’t, at least by way of phone company copper wires. We have 2 long-shot possibilities…a new wireless company and satellite. Both are dependent on our views in certain directions, none of which is too good. Since high-speed internet was my own top requirement in a place to live, this is a bit disappointing. Research continues.

Although we were told we’d be 100 meters from the beach, it’s actually 165, making it a tedious, minute and a half walk to a miles long, sandy beach. We can always drive if we can’t spare the time to walk.

Chris is into her 3^rd day of work, and is enjoying the work and co-workers. I get up with her at the ungodly hour of 7AM and drive her to work shortly after. I’ll leave it up to Chris to report on the work end of Takaka, as I’m pretty removed. Getting up and going early does, however, give me a kick start to getting my shopping and house cleaning done then catch up on the latest cricket scores. Just this morning I was happy to read that Jesse Ryder, playing against the English side had 62 of 79 balls, with 11 fours and two sixes in only 18 overs and 3 run outs, and the next 8 wickets tumbled for 73 runs before England got the complete colly-wobbles. Wasn’t the American football Super Bowl played recently? Which side won?

Well, I’ve been pecking away on this most the afternoon, and now it’s time to go pick up Chris at work. I’ll have to post it to the blog at an internet place in town tomorrow AM and will try to find some photos to send along.

I tentatively promise to keep these entries shorter from this point, forward. Firm promises to follow.