MoWenck

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From the hot springs of Hanmer we made our way to the wines of the Marlborough Sounds via the North East coast. It was an amazing bus journey through the coastal hamlet of Kaikora. The city is popular for whale watching and swimming with dolphin tours. Kaikora is perched on the Pacific Ocean with the Kaikora Mountain Range adding a dramatic backdrop to the picturesque little city. We did not stay long in Kaikora-maybe 20 minutes-but it must be a fantastic spot to spend a few days, weeks, years. Instead we hopped back on the bus and made our way North towards Blenheim.

Warning: I did not proof read this blog so proceed at your own risk. Spelling errors are likely. Ramble on sentences almost guaranteed. Incoherence, likely.

Blenheim is the business center of the Marlborough Sounds wine region and a rather uninspiring city so you can imagine our disappointment after having stopped briefly in Kaikora. To make matters worse our accomodation was less than ideal in the "cozy" hostel called The Grapevine. The room was grotty and the facilities were lacking. We decided (almost instantaneously) that a change of venue would be a top priority for the next day and then settled into our surroundings by preparing dinner and talking to our fellow travelers about the region. It happened to be one of our dorm mates 25th birthday so we helped Ayumi and her amigos celebrate. Of course Jose Cuervo joined us for one last hurrah and we all knocked back shots of tequilla and chased them with brewski. It was a pretty good evening. The next morning Amy decided to off-load some gear at the local Salvation Army and we wondered about the city for a spell. All the while we made contact with a former flatmate of ours from back in Christchurch. Thomas had come from the Czech republik to the land of New Zealand hoping to find work. His quest had thus brought him to the vineyards of Marlborough and Blenheim. Anyway, we made arrangements to meet up with Thomas but not until 2pm so we had some time to kill. When we got back to The Grapevine our inhospitable host gave us the boot because we only stayed 1 night*. so we gathered up our bags and wondered down to a cafe on the main road. We met up with Thomas and his mate Jan just before 2pm. We immediately drove out to Renwick-about 10 K West of Blenheim-and checked into Watson's Way Backpackers. Our new digs were heavenly when compared to the hell of The Grapevine. It is a purpose built hostel with huge modern kitchen, nice garden with hammock, tennis courts and bicycles on hire. Once we were settled in we joined Thomas and Jan for a quick drive out to the coast to Monkey Bay and White's Bay. After enjoying the afternoon at the coast we headed back to Thomas and Jan's flat in Blenheim for some wine and cheese. We had a great time talking, laughing, eating, and drinking with Thomas and Jan and their other flatmates Stephen and Paul, the original backpacker odd couple. Paul, from the UK, was always taking the piss about the Falkland Islands. Stephen, from Argentina, countered the assault with patriotic reveries about Diego Maradona's hand of god goal in 1986.** It was a good evening and we were sad to see it end.
The next day after a morning session of yoga and meditation we decided to make a bike tour of the Marloborough wine region. I must come clean, I do not know a whole lot about wine tasting-the lingo and pretentious bull sh!t that is associated with it all. What I do know is that if I like it then in my opinion it is a good wine. I know my pallet and I do tend to like full bodied red wines probably a result of growing up near the Napa valley (did I just type that sentence?). The region near Renwick is known for its white wines and particularly for its Savignon Balnc so I was not to sure what to expect from our tour other than disappointment. We started the tour at Cloudy Bay where they have a world renowned (seriously, not just in New Zealand) savignon blanc called Te Koko that turned out to be just delightful. From Cloudy Bay we crossed the road to Alan Scott wineries where we discovered a pleasant chardonnay and a decent Pinot Noir. The day was rolling along solid. From Alan Scott we hit up Mud House where the lady conducting the tasting was swell and the wine was all right. Nautalis was next and the place oozed everything I hate about wine tasting including superbly overpriced bottles of white wine. We hit up a place called Forest next and this was a sleeper surprise with solid wine all around but nothing to write home about-just to blog on about. We had been blessed with a beautiful day full of sunshine as we petalled around the valley. All in all we covered about 25 K and some 5-6 wineries before we made it back to Watson's Way for a relaxing evening reading and watching the stupid box.
Early the next day we cought the Intercity bus for Nelson. It was a beautiful bus ride, especially the section just West of Renwick, and we made it to Nelson just as the afternoon rains started. We did not intend to stay long in Nelson and hopped the last bus for the half hour journey out to Motueka where we planned to base ourselves for our tramp^ on the Abel Tasman Coastal Track. We found our way to the Laughing Kiwi backpacker where once again we had a dorm room to ourselves, a clean kitchen to work with and access to a hot tub. We spent the next day arranging our transportation to and from the track, securing our supplies for the trail, and renting a stove to cook with while tramping. We managed to stowe away all our extra gear at the Laughing Kiwi before we made our way to the trailhead. I will not bore you with all the details of our tramp on the Abel Tasman Coastal Track other than to say that is was spectacular (as advertised, see the photo gallery) and that we only got rain for 30 minutes on one day. Once we finished the tramp we headed back to Motueka to collect our gear. After going minimalist for food on the tramp when we got back to the Laughing Kiwi we prepared a phat meal with steak and veggies and all the fixins and played the gluttonous ugly American. We decided we wanted to explore the Golden Bay further so we planned to make our way out to Collingwood. In order to save some cash we opted to try the hitch hiking route. In New Zealand hitch hiking is a past time almost as popular as rugby and we had no problems catching our first ride out of Motueka. Ironically we were picked up by a couple from Australia who could take us as far as Takaka. They were really good people touring the South Island for a week after attending an Archivists Convention in Wellington. You know those archivists, wild people! From Takaka we managed to catch a ride witha local cat who told us all the things to see and do out of Collingwood. Unfortunately for us he was not actually going to Collingwood and so he dropped us on the roadside about 15 K from town. Of course we only had to wait about 10 minutes before we were picked up again, this time by a father and son tandum who went out of their way-literally about 10 K-to drop us off in Collingwood right in front of our hostel. Our hostel in Collingwood was called Somerset House and is owned by a dentist from England (I never asked if he was from Somerset Shire). We were greeted by a japanese girl who showed us to our empty dorm room. We unloaded our gear and quickly took up a position on the sundeck to soak in the rays and enjoy some afternoon reading. When Chris, the owner, got home from work he welcomed us with a glass of wine. We also arranged to use the hostel bikes the next day for a ride out to the Farewell Spit and or Wharariki Beach weather permitting. We were blessed with a spectacular day and after breakfast MoWenck hopped on the bicycles and made for the spit. It is a relatively flat 25 K ride out to the Farewell Spit on an amazingly scenic road that hugs the waters of the Golden Bay on one side and the lush green mountains of the West Coast on the other. We opted not to walk out to the Farewell Spit and instead made our way towards Wharariki Beach (on the advice of the locals) on an unsealed road that involved some minor climbs. Not being in the physical condition (enhanced?) of a Lance Armstrong we ditched the bicycles at the trailhead to Pillar Point and walked the rest of the way to the beach. We were rewarded for our efforts with a fantastic deserted beach. Great dunes greeted us and made there way down to the Tasman Sea where seals froliced in the surf. There were huge arch rocks and caves for exploring and we killed several hours soaking it all in. I had hoped to make our way back to the bikes via the Coastal Hill track and Abel Tasman Point but as Amy pointed out that hike would take no less than 2.5 hours to complete and then we would have a grueling 2 hour ride into the wind back to Collingwood. So we made our way back to the unsealed road where three Germans were kind enough to give us a ride back to our bikes thus saving us an hour walk. We used the time saved to do the out and back walk to Pillar Point for the absolutely fantastic views of the Spit, Abel Tasman Point and Wharariki Beach. For the ride back to Collingwood we were fortunate not to have the typical afternoon breeze in our face and we were back at Somerset house by 1730. That eveing on Chris's suggestion we convinced a German couple staying at the hostel to join us for drinks at the legendary Mussel Inn about 8 KM out of town headed back towards Takaka. The Germans had their own transportation and I was relieved when they offered to drive us to the pub-otherwise Chris had offered me the use of his car for evening. The Mussel Inn is the alternative restaurant come pub in the already alternative Golden Bay. It is acozy affair with composting toilets out back and a post to park your horse out front. What a great way to avoid a drink drive ticket eh? The Mussel Inn is also a microbrewery famous for brewing beer in the truely Kiwi style. Of course I just had to try a few of the flavors on draught. My personal favorite was the Captain Cooker brewed with the taste of Manuka (a native plant) and the White Whale Ale. Amy liked the Soar Ass a nut-brown ale. Our last day in Collingwood was spent wondering out to the beach and the Rosey Glow Chocolate house. That evening the Germans joined us for a drink at the more traditional pub in town where we were entertained by the local rugby side dancing to the musical stylings of Cutty Wren a traditional Irish Folk music duet (they were pretty damn good). It was another fun night and very different from the Mussel Inn.
The next morning we caught a ride back to Takaka with the Somerset House resident yoga guru BJ. BJ is your typical Golden Bay refugee. He is originally from Christchurch but has lived in the GB for about 20 years doing whatever odd jobs he can to make a living. He has long brown/blond dreadlocked hair a full beard that would make chewbacca jealous, and calm blue eyes. He could have been from Berkeley. It was really cool talking to him about yoga, meditation, and the important things in life as we cruised through the exceptionally green countryside. BJ dropped us off at our hostel in Takaka but just before we got out of the car he paid me what I consider the biggest compliment. He said that he was really happy to meet some down to earth Americans and that it had been his pleasure to meet us. Sweet as bro! Our new hostel was called Kiwianas and we were greeted warmly by the owner Jules and promptly shown to our empty dorm room. Kiwianas is a really cool little hostel with free use of a spa, pool, table tennis, foosball, board games and most important to the automobileless traveler bicycles.
The next day we wasted no time making use of the bicycles as we took a leisurely ride out to the Waihoropupu Springs (aka PuPu Springs). The springs are the largest fresh water springs in New Zealand and the 20 minute walk through regenerating forest to the springs is swell. The springs themselves are awesome especially the spring known as 'the dancing sands' where the crystal clear water swirls up and makes the golden sand appear to dance. From the springs we made our way back through town and out towards the beach community of Pohara and a place called the Grove Scenic Reserve. The Grove is a mystical place with massive Rata trees growing out of odd deformed limestone outcrops. It was a 10 minute walk through the forest to a viewpoint looking out on the paddocks and Golden Bay near Pohara. EZ Magik. After the walk through the grove we went to Golden Salami for a little refreshment before we headed back to Takaka. We covered only about 15 K on the bikes that day but it was all quite nice. One thing I have noticed about not having a car, we sure do get our exercise! The next morning we were up bright and early and by 0900 we made our way to the main road out of Takaka hoping to catch a ride back over the hill out of the Golden Bay and back to Nelson. After about 10 minutes we were on our way and as we climbed the hill out of Takaka I looked back on the Golden Bay region and could not help but think how beautiful the place was and how nice it would be to spend a long time there meeting the kind people, exploring the amazing scenery, and watching the world go by. The only drawback is that there is no sustainable employment and its relative remoteness. Perhaps a blessing in disguise?
Anyway, we were dropped off in suburb of Richmond. We cheated and jumped a local bus into Nelson proper. We made our way to The Shortbread House a boutique hostel near the city center. The Shortbread House is a small and comfortable hostel and every morning you get a tasty hunk of...you guessed it, shortbread. We didn't have the room to ourselves and the kitchen was small but it was still nice. Amy was all ready to get going out to the World of Wearable Arts (WOW) and Collectible Cars Museum. I was a little skeptical but considering our experience at the Textile Museum in Ahmadebad India (remember India?!?) I was good to give it a whirl. I figured, "if the wearable arts is unbearable at least there will be cars." So we made our way out to the museum in a suburb called Stoke. As it turns out the wearable art was flipping awesome and the collectible cars were like head on beer (icing on cake?). The art was a collection of what amounts to be very elaborate halloween costumes. My favorite being a dress that was a tree covered with monarch butterflies to represent the annual migration of the insect from North America to Central America. Sweet as. The bizzar bras were also quite interesting. Anyway after a couple hours of looking at costumes and cars we were ready for some beer. Fortunately Stoke is also home to the Mac's brewery so we headed over there for the 2pm tour. We were the only ones who turned up for the informative tour and so we got the royal treatment especially when it came to tasting. Our 1 hour tour turned into a marathon event. It was like Gilligan's Island we just could not leave the place. We had a quiet night and the next day we wondered about town a bit and made plans to head out to the West Coast.
We are well and having a great time. We have made it to Te Anau in the Southland and tomorrow we will be heading out on another 3-day tramp. So I wanted to get you all caught up before we left but there is so much to say! I will leave off in Nelson and save the West Coast and Central Otago for another blog on another day. Be sure to check out our pictures in the photo gallery and happy Guy Fawkes day (LOL!).

NOTES:

* I would not recommend staying in Blenheim if you plan a visit to the wine region. The township of Renwick 10 K away is much more pleasant and closer to the wineries. However, if you do have to stay in Blenheim avoid The Grapevine as if it were the plague (or bird flu). Beside the fact that the facilities are shite the owner was such a beeyatch about letting us leave our bags for 4 hours.

** Modern international sports/war history lesson for Americans: The United Kingdom and Argentina fought a brief war in the early 1980's over the Falkland Islands. In short the English won the tif. In 1986 Argentina got its revenge on the international sports scene by winning the world cup of football (soccer). The victory included the now infamous "hand of god" goal where Argentina's greatest footballer Diego Maradona illegally and obviously-obviously to everyone but the officials-punched the ball past English goal tender Peter Shilton for the decisive goal in a hard fought match. The English villanize Maradona as a coked up cheater while in Argentina he is a national hero. In Maradona's defense he did score perhaps the best goal ever earlier in the match.

^ Kiwi English Translation: tramp = trek

On The Road Again

'Bugger All' is to Kiwi English what 'didly squat' is to American English. As in, when the police finally recovered* the Suberuby it was worth bugger all. A victim of a NZ (pronouned in-zed) school holidays joy-ride that ended in a smash up the Suberuby is no more. Initially it appeared that MoWenck would have to pay to dispose of the tainted vehicle but when we told the police we would not pay to have the Suberuby towed to a place where they could perform forensics the PoPo obliged to pay for the costs. Once the police finished their investigation we couldn't get an auto dismantler to touch the car with a ten foot tow arm. Eventually we released the Suberuby to be sCRAPped at no further cost to MoWenck.

We have come to terms with the whole NZ car-ownership experience. The latest incident has been written off as a costly lesson in crime prevention (how much does it cost to buy the CLUB anyway?). Now, when I think about the Suberuby, I think of the unrealized potential of the $2500 NZ we spent on the vehicle. I mean, the kids who took the car for its final joy-ride could have smoked p (methamphetimine) and partied for weeks with $2500. Even in their eyes the whole incident would have to be seen as a tragic waste of resources. But I think of all the people we have met during our travels who could have used $2500 to make a positive change in their lives. The English teachers and kids of the Tautaepittaya School in Surat Tani Thailand could have (and would have) done much better with $2500. Hemi, our 3-day porter over the Thorung La Pass on the Annapurna circuit could have fed his family for an entire year with that money. Such a waste. Of course it is even harder for me when I realize that if none of this had ever happened I would not likely be handing out $2500 to charitable causes. I would, and likely will, spend that money and much more on furthering the adventures of MoWenck. That is the selfish reality of leisure travel. At first it was hard for me to get my head around my feelings of guilt about all capital we have 'wasted' while on our travels. After much reflection and meditation I was able to work through these feelings of guilt and now my conscience is clear. I will spare you all the gory details of my reasoning as this is not the appropriate format but don't get me started the next time you see me.
Anyway, back on the road. Onwards and upwards. Amy and I completed our last days of work on Friday 30Sep05. It was a bitter sweet day for me. I had to say goodby to the friends I had made while working in Christchurch over the past three months. It started with saying my farewells to my coworkers from User Friendly Resources (http://www.userfr.com). I feel very fortunate to have stumbled into such an excellent work situation. No, I did not make heaps of money. No, I did not improve my C.V. (resume). No, I did not find my calling^. I did have a work experience completely unlike any other I have ever had. The work environment was so laid back it could be described as horizontal. I was blessed with an interesting mix of Kiwi, Aussie, German, and English workmates. I will always remember the rubber band wars (elastic band wars for my English readers-if there are any left). The off-color (colour!?!?) and completely un-pee-cee Wednesday morning tea discussions. The Friday afternoon beer-O'clock sessions across the street at the New Yorker Steak House. The basketball games.** Needless to say it was more difficult than usual to leave the NYSH that Friday afternoon.
Back at the flat Amy and I had to face our flatmates for what would be our final weekend at 53 Peverel Street. Saturday was a busy day of preparation for our departure. Without the Suberuby Amy and I realized we would need to off-load a bunch of gear. Originally we had planned to carry it all with us in the car and send a package back to Cali from Auckland before we split the country. Instead we arranaged to send a packy to a hostel in Auckland (I sure hope it is nice) for storage and where we hope to get our shite sorted before continuing on. We also needed to launder our clothes, pack our bags, arrange transportation, etc. After a long day we settled down to a nice dinner and then games and drinks with our flatmates. The next morning was a glorious day in Christchurch. We set off, loaded down with baggage but fortified in our courage with a bottle of Jose Cuervo generously donated to our coffers by Stephen my manager at UFR, making our way to the alpine villa of Hanmer and its renowned thermal springs. By the time we got to our backpacker digs in Hanmer the weather was changing for the worse. We checked into our pleasant and empty dorm room and quickly made for the soon-to-close grocers. After we secured rations for the evening we saddled up to the Alpine Lodge and a couple of cold Speights droughts. It was the perfect end and beginning. An end to our working holiday in Christchurch and a beggining to our true holiday exploring New Zealand. Hanmer was the ideal location to find the backpacker groove again. Our hostel, Le Gite Backpackers, was clean and comfortable and we had the place to ourselves. The thermal springs were as advertised and despite the school holidays were not too crowded. After two relaxing days we were ready to tackle the rest of the South Island but that is another blog another time.