Catch up - part ll

Hello! It's catch up time, but from Jen!

Don't get too worried about drinking too much on "call": that only happened once for each of us. :) And Kelly, our manager, was only a bit drunk ONCE, and I think that was because her boyfriend was up for the weekend and they were having a good time.

Speaking of the Swiss Café, we’ve quit our other jobs (THANK GOD – no more cleaning at the hotel) and are solely working at the Swiss Café (well, besides our cleaning at the hostel for accommodation). We’re getting enough hours there and we want to make sure we enjoy our time here.

Speaking of enjoying our time, there’s a big hike in the works! In my previous post, you can see a lighthouse in the bottom picture. Near the lighthouse is the lighthouse cottage, where you can spend the night for $12.50. In order to get there, we have to take the ferry across the bay, walk to the start of the trek, and then hike 20 km to the cottage. It’s supposedly a crazy awesome hike. It follows the coast up and down steep cliffs. It’s going to be great. :)

The other day, I was able to take the ferry to Russell (the city across the bay) for free. What made the trip even better?! Three dolphins were following the boat! I was sitting in the back of the boat and when I turned around to see Paihia behind me, I saw them about 5 feet away from me. IT WAS AWESOME! I even got a tiny little tear in my eye. They really are beautiful animals. I was told that sometimes a little hammerhead shark gets lost in the bay and that the dolphins will kind of adopt it as one of their own. A few of the dolphin “regulars” in the bay even have names; Three prong and Ripcord are two such dolphins.

Speaking of the water, I am falling in love with the sea. It’s amazing. Today is the first day in the past 5 days that I haven’t spent at least an hour just sitting on the rocks looking at and listening to the ocean. You can never get bored. There’s always boats sailing in the distance, birds flying overhead, an occasional kite surfer. Plus, it’s been really good for me just to …sit. You know? Just sit and really think and listen to the waves crashing on the shore. Hopefully our next trip out on the water will be on one of the tall ships. They have tours where you can climb the rigging, help on deck…. It’s going to be cool.

Today is Halloween! Liz and I didn’t exactly bring costumes and Paihia is the smallllllest town ever. So our costumes? Liz is “fire” and I am “ice”. (Well, I guess technically I am snow because I am using the snowflakes that Grandma gave me to decorate the room at Christmas time.) Kelly, from the Swiss Café, gave us Halloween night off, and we’ve convinced most of the hostel to dress up as well. And what was the first thing Liz and I did at midnight (so the first moment of Halloween)? Eat the candycorn Liz brought. We’ve SAVED it and it’s been SOOOO hard not to eat it. But we brought it out last night and had everyone try it. The reactions? “Mingin” (which means disgusting in Scottish slang) and “Welll, that’s allllright,” which is fine for Liz and me because that is more for us! [Side note: Liz is currently trying to make flames out of gold tissue paper.....we'll see how this goes.:) ]

I’m off to try and make a dirtcake for tonight. No one here has ever heard of dirtcake! Although, it’s going to be quite a different dirtcake because we’re using chocolate shortcake biscuits for Oreos and a mixture of vanilla icecream and milk for cool-whip. [sigh]

We really do miss all of you. I think of everyone constantly and how much this person would enjoy this, and then I hear a song that reminds me of another person….. well, you all are always in our thoughts. Really.

- Jen

Catch-Up

Good evening, my fine American friends. Liz here, with a quick update from the other side of the world. Since the boat ride, Jen and I have been working a great deal at the Swiss Café, where, believe me, we are getting plenty of hours.

I take that back – we’ve either been working or we’ve been “on call,” which means, in Swiss Café terms, that we sit out on the deck, get served wine, and look like we’re having a great time (which is very easy after the second or third bottle.) This is an attempt to bring passerby into the restaurant so that they can have just as great of a time. Kelly, our manager, brings out bottle after bottle of the expensive stuff that vineyards send her as samples, as well as platters of “chips” and “tomato sauce.”

The other day I spent two hours on the deck with Kelly, the chef Paini, the other waitress Nami, Kelly’s boyfriend Mike, and our friend Jamie. Poor Jen was working, and had to watch us all get sillier and sillier. Apparently she worked alone all night because Kelly and Nami got too drunk to work. This is standard NZ practice, I guess.

I actually worked last night. Two Floridians came in and tipped me – I love Americans. (No one tips in New Zealand. For stellar service, you might five or ten percent, but that means you were truly above and beyond. On the other hand, this means that as waitresses we get $12.50 an hour.)

There was also an elderly couple from Germany who barely spoke a word of English, so I got to translate the menu and take the order in German, and felt very useful. This has been happening more and more frequently. Working at a Swiss restaurant might prove to be the first time in my life that my German skills have come in handy outside of Germany itself.

In other news, the waves were giant today and I went running through them. We’re starting to get prepared for Halloween – it’s not a big deal in NZ, but we’re making everyone celebrate. Tonight is a big rugby game between the New Zealand All Blacks and the Australian Wallabies, and we’re all going to the pub (Tui) to watch the game at half seven. I ate a Clementine yesterday that I just found on the ground walking down the street. And that trail we hiked on that was covered in dead possums is now apparently closed because it has been overrun with dead bodies – all of which, in a strange turn of events, were allegedly poisoned illegally. I guess someone in Paihia really hates possums.

I’d like to close this post by running through my and Jen’s new “Centabay Family,” because we spend 90% of our time with these people, and it’s important that y’all know who they are. Plus they’re just pretty cool.

1: Jack, Ryona, Murky, and Mow (pronounced so it rhymes with ‘wow’.) Jack (45 or so) is the manager/owner of Centabay, and thus an interesting mixture of boss, dad, and creepy-flirty-old-man-at-the-bar to all of us. He makes a lot of lewd jokes and loves making fun of all of us in turn, but he’s a great guy. He runs the hostel well, he does a lot for us (two days ago Jamie got a concussion and Jack called an ambulance for him and then went to pick him and Lewis up from the hospital at one am), and he’s an awesome dad to Ryona. Ryona, then, is his adorable and incredibly clever 8-year-old daughter, who treats us all like older brothers and sisters. She’s awesome, and one of the smartest and most mature little kids I’ve ever met. And Murky is the tiny dog and Mow is the grumpy cat who sheds everywhere.

2: The Peruvians: Holly and Fio. Holly is 27 and Fio is 24 and while they met while traveling, they’re actually both from the same area of Lima. They’re smart, happy, friendly, and super nice. They’re also awesome dancers, especially salsa, and they cook awesome fried bananas. I honestly can’t think of two better personalities to live with here.

3: The Scots: Jamie and Lewis. Jamie’s 19 and Lewis is 20 – they’re our little ones. They’re loud, hilarious, extremely confident and outgoing, say the f-word at least once in every sentence, and occasionally wear their kilts out to the bar. They tickle, pick up, wrestle, make fun of, and pester the four of us girls incessantly. Their goal is to turn Jen and I into “lads,” which mostly means that we need to develop drinking tolerances that rival theirs.

4: Jonny, the Argentian. Jonny’s our newest addition, having only been here about a week. Holly and Fio have someone new to speak Spanish with (they’re trying to teach us all Spanish phrases as well.) He’s 25 and used to work here last summer. He’s funny and goofy and likes kayaking and running. He’s a little quieter than the others, but every once in awhile he comes out with some totally shocking comment. When he was little he played soccer with his neighbor friends with a ball made of paper and tape.

5: Sky, the Canadian. Sky (31) is sort of the mini boss. She actually gets paid, instead of just working for accommodation (the rest of the above, and us, are the cleaners.) I do not like Sky. Not one bit. She talks constantly. She nags and complains and repeats herself and makes every conversation about herself. Occasionally she does something very nice and generous, and she’s a really good manager sort of person, but she’s too annoying to make up for it, I hate to say.

6: Dan, the Englishman. Dan is 22, and he doesn’t clean here, but he’s living long-term in Centabay and has kind of become an associate member of our family. He works in Paihia as a dishwasher. Sometimes he’s completely out of it, but he’s always up for anything and is extremely funny. I love his accent. He is also extremely gullible, we’ve found out.

7: Craig, the Kiwi. Craig is in his late thirties and builds houses. He’s living here long-term as well. Craig knows how to do everything. He’s extremely handy to have around. He loves drinking – I think he lives here so he can meet people to drink inordinate amounts of alcohol with. He’s a great guy, though, and loves giving us all advice and assistance, like we’re his own kids or little siblings.

Those are the most important characters – I know it’s a lot, but remember them now!

THE EXCITOR

Occsionally here at the hostel, we cleaners will man the front office for awhile: we’ll check people in, turn movies on, and register people for tours…. but mostly we’ll just take advantage of the free internet. J It’s a super easy job.

To pay us all back for the few hours we’ve put in, Jack arranged for us to go on the ocean trip “THE EXCITOR” for only $30 each.

And the trip?

IT WAS AWESOME.

The boat traveled around the Bay of Islands, getting up to about 50 m.p.h., which made is seem like we were flying over the water. We stopped at the “Hole in the Rock”, a famous tourist destination in the bay, and learned a bit about Maori myths and legends.  We then went around 5 or 6 more islands in the bay, seeing where Captain Cook first landed and……

WE SAW SOME DOLPHINS!

The dolphins were jumping out of the water about 20 yards away from our boat. It was amazing. Unfortunately, the Department of Conservation only allows a few tour boats to visit the dolphins and the “Excitor” is not one of them; however, the skipper turned the boat off and gave us a chance to watch them. It was amazing.

The whole trip was amazing, actually. It was the first moment I guess I truly LOVED Paihia. The water was practically turquoise near some islands. And the islands themselves were a mix of jagged dark rock, electric light green grass, and forest green trees and bushes.  And flying past them with the salty wind blowing your hair back, the sun shining in a cloudless blue sky, and singing along to the B-52s and Red Hot Chili Peppers was just….. well, I was on a happiness high.

Unfortunately, I don’t think the rest of the boat was as happy as we were! Our group was laughing and singing the entire time and the rest of the boat had their jackets pulled up and were all grim and tight faced and just clicking their cameras. [Sigh] Germans…

First New Zealand driving experience

Hello! Jen here!

I had my first experience driving in New Zealand: OH. MY. GOD.  Now, before we begin, I should point out that Anna Maria and Jonathan both think that my driving skills are, ummm, lacking. I, however, do not think so.

Anyways. Jack, our manager, was very busy one afternoon showing new customers around the hostel. One customer needed to get out of the driveway and needed Jack’s car moved. Jack tossed me his keys and said, “Hey, Jen, could you move my car for me?”

I stood frozen. “Wait. Move…your car?! Are you…. sure?”

“Yes, Jen!”

“But like – I’ve never driven here!”

“Just get in, mate!”

“But…”

“Oh, go on!”

Alright. So I ran around to the car and opened the door. CRAP. It was the wrong side of the car (side note: In New Zealand, they drive on the left side of the road, meaning that their steering wheels are on the right side of the car).

So I ran around to the opposite side and climbed in.

Next problem: Jack, our manager, is over 6 feet tall. I am five feet, 3 and ¾ inches.  AND I COULD NOT FIGURE OUT HOW TO MOVE THE SEAT.  So I was practically standing at the wheel.

Next problem: I turned on the car and TAYLOR SWIFT TURNED ON. I looked, trying to change the radio station. I could not, because TAYLOR SWIFT WAS ON A CD. Yes…..Jack, our practically 45 year old manager, had a Taylor Swift CD.

Next problem: I tried to put the van in reverse. NOTHING HAPPENED.

Luckily, at this point Liz jumped in the car and pointed out, “Jen! The parking brake is on!”

[Note:  The old Asian man was still patiently sitting in his car waiting for me to back out of the driveway.]

So I turned on the car and then hit another problem: Just as New Zealanders DRIVE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD, all of their levers next to their steering wheel are COMPLETELY OPPOSITE from what Americans are used to. So when I tried to put the van in reverse, I accidentally turned on the windshield wipers AND put my left blinker on.

“AHHHHHH!”

Ok. Calm down. I then corrected everything (except for the windshield wipers which I couldn’t figure out) and backed down the driveway. I then, after a few practically hyperventilated breaths, backed out onto the left side of the street.

I started driving around the block, still flipping out on the inside, at about 20 km/hour down the street.  [Note: 20 km/hour is 12.7 miles/hour]. I felt that I was flying. I’m sure that all of the cars crawling behind me did not think that.

A few stressful minutes later, I pulled back into the driveway and turned off Taylor Swift and the car. And when the car turned off, the windshield wipers turned off also.

Whew. Problem solved. 

The Day of the Dead Opossum

Hello from Liz!

Yesterday afternoon after we'd finished an incredibly long morning of cleaning at Centabay (nearly every room had been vacated, meaning dozens of beds that needed to be changed and bathrooms that needed to be scrubbed), Jen and I laced up our hiking boots, stuffed some sliced cheese and apples into my backpack, and struck out down School Rd. It was hot and sunny and it seemed like there were more flowers blooming than ever before.


(Intermission - Jen being cute in bed one morning.)

We took the Opua Forest track; it's about 5k one way. We had three hours until we needed to be back for work at the Swiss Cafe. The track goes what feels like straight up for the first twenty minutes of walking, and after that it's up and down and up and down and up and down, quite steeply. We were walking through what they call forest here and what I would call jungle - giant tree ferns and palms and Tarzan-worthy vines everywhere.

After about half an hour of steady walking and chatting, we rounded a bend and I stopped in my tracks.

"Look," I said to Jen. "A dead thing."

We went closer to investigate.

"What IS it?" Jen asked. It was a legitimate question. The thing was fat and furry and about the size of a cat, lying on its side directly in the middle of the trail with its eyes still open. It was grayish brown and had a long, curling black tail and scarily long claws and teeth. Flies were buzzing around, but there were no wounds and it was still odor-less.

"Maybe it was just old," Jen suggested, and after I'd poked it a couple of times with a stick (you can't just find a dead thing and NOT poke it with a stick) we continued on our way.

Five minutes later, we came across another one.

"What the crap," I said.

This one was just to the side of the trail, curled up with his little feet crossed beside a half-empty plastic cup that had been staked into the dirt. Being coolheaded scientists, Jen and I deduced that whatever these things were, the local government or park service must be poisoning them for some reason. And whatever the poison was, it was extremely fast-acting, because this thing had NOT gotten far.

"Maybe they're mongooses!" I said. "I don't know what mongooses look like, but I think they're pests in a lot of places."

"I always thought mongooses lived in Mongolia," Jen said.

I gave her a look. "I'm sticking with my theory."

We carried on hiking for maybe two miles, and in that time we saw nineteen more dead critters for a whopping total of twenty-one before we turned around. One was a tiny baby clinging to its mother. Sometimes there were three or four all in the same place, curled around the same cup. Each one we found was only a foot or two from the cup of poison. Whatever it was, it killed almost instantly. The dead things had maggots curling through their eyes and flies buzzing in and out of their mouths. Some of them had been ripped open, with their intestines lying beside them in the moss.

It was a really lovely hike. Luckily, we found a dead-thing-free zone to eat our cheese and apples in.

When we got back to the hostel a couple hours later, one of the English guys staying upstairs asked us how the hike went.

"Great!" we said. "We saw lots of dead things!"

"Eh? What were they?"

"About yay big...giant ears...grayish brown...long tail..."

"Ah, sounds loik a possum."

"Definitely not," Jen said. "We know what possums look like."

"Well, it had big ears? Wos it a rabbit?"

I gave this guy a look. "It was NOT a rabbit."

This weird guy who is living in his van in the driveway came strolling over, and Jen got out her camera to show him a photo of the thing, because while weird, he is also an expert on a lot of strange things. He peered at the photo.

"Yep, that's a possum."

Apparently, what they call possums here are not what we call possums at home. They were brought in two hundred years ago for the fur trade, and they've finally started to take over. There are more than seventy million of them in NZ now, which, given the country's total HUMAN population of about four million, is a little scary. They eat kiwi bird eggs and tons of vegetation every night, so the local governments are trying to kill them all.

In some towns, they apparently wrangle elementary school children into the cause; during some school days they have field trips in which the kids try to find the traps and then bring the dead possums back - they get a few bucks for each one. I certainly never got to do anything that cool when I was little. :)

And that, my friends, was the day of the dead possums. We're just revving up for Halloween.


(The wharf in Paihia, and our other Centabay girls at breakfast.)

A Cloudy Sunday

Liz Here:

Paihia is alive with people today. This is New Zealand's "Labour Weekend," reminiscent of our Labor Day. No one works Friday or Monday, and everyone parties; everyone, that is, except the people who work in the service industry making the parties possible. Jen and I, and all of our friends at the hostel who also serve and clean and make drinks, have been working our butts off. The restaurants and cafes are very busy. There's a festival in town too, with food, wine tastings, and live music, and crowds are thronging the streets and the beach.

Besides cleaning for accommodation at Centabay, cleaning at the other hotel, and waitressing at the Swiss Cafe, we now might have new jobs at the "Cafe Over the Bay." (So much for us worrying about not finding a job at all...Paihia is clamoring for workers, especially if they're young, reasonably attractive ladies who speak perfect English.) I went for a trial shift yesterday, and Jen is there as I write this. If all goes well, we'll start working breakfast and lunch shifts there and...wait for it...quit the cleaning! Woo hoo!

Working at the Cafe is awesome, mostly because I get free espresso, but also because it's very chill and easy and the others who work there rock my socks. Also I made a couple espresso shots and a latte for the boss lady and she loved them. Boo yah.

Work has basically been consuming our life lately, but there have been some fun times smushed in there. We met some friendly baby birds with messy feathers who sat on our fingers and shoulders. We taught a lot of people about Thanksgiving (apparently people from other countries are under the impression that the holiday exists solely because Americans love food. Maybe true.) Yesterday morning I made a beautiful sand castle, early morning on the beach. I'll let Jen tell you about her kayaking escapades and driving a NZ car (she got in on the left side first and then had to get out and go around. :D)

Greetings to all in America and we hope things are going well with you!

A Few More Photos

Actually from Los Angeles - Jen enjoying the ocean.
Our new girl friends in Paihia - from Jen to right, Fio, Holly, Izzy, and Sky.
Liz, eating lunch in a tree!
Ryona, Centabay's manager's daughter, and our coworker/housemate Fio, just hangin' out (ha!) in the hostel's kitchen.
Part of the beautiful beach in Paihia, at mid-tide.

Rugby

Liz here:

Yesterday was sunny, warm, and basically beautiful, so eight of us from the hostel trooped on over to the park, which consists mainly of a giant, luscious green field, to play some rugby. Now, I had never played a minute of rugby before in my life, but the two Scotsmen and an English guy taught the rest of us (Americans, Peruvians, and a German) what I assume were the correct rules. I mean, I am just trusting them here. It seemed right though, because there was a lot of smashing people into the grass. Also, Jamie was a professional rugby player in Scotland, so he should know what he's doing.

It turns out I love rugby. It's sort of like American football and soccer combined - lots of running around and not as much stupid stopping and waiting as there is in American football. It's also exhausting, but sometimes there is nothing better than running around in the hot sun wearing yourself out.

After we had all suitably worn ourselves out with the rugby, the guys decided that Jen and I needed to teach them all proper American football. For anyone who knows Jen and I at all, this should be hilarious. Jen and I are not exactly American football experts. BUT, turns out that we know a bit more about American football than Scots or English do. They were big fans. Dan, the English guy, was like, "This is awesome! You get to stop and do a little celebrating after every single play!"

Jen would like to thank Anna Maria, Jonathan, and the U of M football team for all of her football knowledge.

We're thinking about starting a backpackers league, with our very own combo sport - first half, rugby, second half, American football. It will be awesome.

Paiiiiiihia

Jen -

Yes, as Liz said, Paihia is going quite "smashingly." It's been getting warmer and sunnier, work at the restaurant is going GREAT (I poured my first bottle of wine at a table yesterday - ha!!), the town is getting busier and busier every day, and it seems like our cleaning crew at the hostel has become a little family. We've got Fio and Holly from Peru, Jaime and Lewis from Scotland, and Sky from Canada.  Last night, Liz and I tried on Jaime and Lewis's kilts from Scotland - HA! The kilts weren't their families' "plaids"; I guess in Scotland you don't get those until you turn 21. We also learned how to play rugby yesterday and so today we've organized a game on the village green with the rest of the backpackers from the hostel. Oh! Liz and I made nachos yesterday and no one had any idea what they were! We had a girl from Germany and our two friends from Scotland just watching us make them. It was great. 

So - yes. Things are much better, although "no worries", we still miss you all back at home. :)  

Oh. And I just got finished helping Jaime play a prank on Lewis. It looks like that worm is definitely going to come in handy sometime soon....... :)


Paihia:

Ryona, the owner’s 8 year old daughter, thought it was HILARIOUS that our Scottish friend Jamie had a “skirt” just like hers. Jaime and Lewis even wore their kilts on the plane here. You should have heard the practically epic stories about how itchy the wool was on the plane.

Oh. And of course, they wear their kilts the real way: no underwear. People who wear underwear aren’t wearing kilts; they’re wearing skirts. 

Hitch-Hiking

(This is Liz):

Just got back from hitch-hiking to Kerikeri and back (it's only about 20 km one way) with a girl Julia from Germany who's staying here at Centabay as well. Hitch-hiking, it turns out, is a very reasonable, safe, and dependable form of transportation in NZ. It's like what they use instead of trains. It did take us two cars to get there and three to get back though, because everyone kept saying, "Well, I'm just going 3k, but hop in." There wasn't a single creep and they dropped us exactly where we wanted to go, the last ones. By about the third car, I had also stopped feeling totally weird standing there sticking my thumb out, which was a bonus.

Kerikeri turns out to be a super boring, small sort of industrial town, but they did have a big store where I purchased Jen and I black shoes for work for just $10 each. Score. (The chain is called "The Warehouse" but it's basically exactly like Target or Meijer.)

So besides hating cleaning, life in Paihia has been going pretty smashingly. I worked the last three nights at the Swiss Cafe, which went pretty well, although I never, EVER, remember to ask people if they want some freshly ground pepper on their food. I don't see the POINT. There's a pepper shaker on the table anyway! Anyway, Kelly (the manager) is very big into the pepper thing so I need to work on that.

We've been meeting a lot more people at the hostel and getting to know people in town, and the weather has finally turned sunny and warm again, so things are looking up. I'm planning another midnight swim for tonight...

Some notes

Jen -

 - About half of the clothes I brought to New Zealand are some shade of blue.  Seriously.

 - Trying to teach euchre to people whose first language is NOT English is just a very bad idea. 

 - A man staying here from Australia made a great big batch of pancakes for a group of us sitting in the kitchen for lunch. I sat down at the table with everyone, took my knife and fork, and began to cut my stack of pancakes into pieces, like I would normally do at home. The German, Scot, and Aussie all stopped talking and eating and just looked at me. The Scot asked, “What are you doing?” (Except he really asked, “Whaaht thhe f--- ahre yew doin?”) I replied, “Well, eating my pancakes.” I looked up to see what I was doing wrong: they had all poured the syrup onto their pancakes and then rolled their pancakes burrito style and were eating them starting with one rolled end. According to the Scot, I, an American, was eating my pancakes too “daintily and sh—“. In “typical American fashion”, I was “trying to be better than everyone else.” 

 - My accent is getting weirder by the day. I almost keep saying, “Cheers” instead of “Thank you” (I stop myself at the last second).  But then we I say, “Thank you”, I’ve got the whole, “thank yew” thing going on.  What the heck. 

T - There is currently a GIANT earthworm sitting in a coffeemug next to my bed. It is waiting for the opportune prank moment.

a bit.....homesick?

Jen - (written 2 days ago but the internet has been crap lately):

Yesterday was the first day EVER (in my life) that I’ve been really homesick. Liz and I had a bit of a crappy day. We woke up, cleaned here at the hostel, had tea, and then went to clean at the 5 star hotel down the road. Cleaning at the hostel is always fine; yes, we have to clean, but the music is on, we’re with our friends, and we’re cleaning the bathrooms and kitchens that we also use. So it’s really not that bad at all. Plus, afterwards, we always have tea and biscuits with the owner, Jack.

But spring cleaning at the hotel is HORRIBLE. Liz told you how we spent almost 3 HOURS cleaning one kitchen. Yesterday, we spent ANOTHER 3 hours washing walls and vacuuming the carpets. And because this was spring cleaning, we even had to {gulp} clean the part of the toilet where the hinges of the seat are. DISGUSTING. Luckily for me, Liz took one for the team and cleaned it while I was vacuuming.

The hotel is owned by a couple. The husband is so nice. He was practically apologetic about us having to spring clean and he would come in from time to time to chat. When we were finished, the wife came in and without saying ANYTHING about the good job we had done, she just told us that we missed this one thing. And then left again. And we had spent HOURS on this. And yes, yes, I KNOW my room at home is always a disaster. But Liz and I have pretty good work ethics and if our job is to clean something, we CLEAN it. This place was SPOTLESS.

And so we left just kind of feeling down and crappy. And then when we got back, I went over to the hotel next door with a few friends (Liz had to work) to help them unload the bags from a tour bus and put them into the hotel rooms.  This is awesome, because for a half hour of work, we get a free $30 buffet dinner at the hotel. AND THE FOOD IS SO GOOD.

But all of our jobs are serving jobs. Whether it’s cleaning here at the hostel, spring cleaning at the hotel, carrying bags, or even waitressing at the restaurant, we’re always catering to other people. Being the bottom of the chain. And after a bit, it’s just kind of demeaning. It makes you feel low and kind of worthless.

The weather was quite crappy yesterday as well: COLD and rainy. And after carrying bags I made a skype call to Colin in the US which just made me miss my life at home even MORE.

So what did I do? I went to the buffet and promptly ate 4 bowls of ice cream. AHA! (Don’t worry – I haven’t eaten ice cream at ALL since I’ve been here!)

At the buffet, there was an older gentleman staying at the hotel who couldn’t speak English. He was trying to convey to the waitstaff that he only wanted a plate of macaroni and cheese. None of them spoke Spanish.  Luckily our friend Fio is from Peru. She jumped up and acted as a translator for the man, who was from Argentina on holiday.

It was great. The older gentleman asked if he could join our table and for the rest of the meal, there was nothing but Spanish back and forth, SO FAST, at our table. The German girl and I sat there amused, putting in what little we could. 

And later, when Liz got back, we joined the two new Scottish guys who recently joined our cleaning team at the hostel. These two guys are HILARIOUS.  They remind me of little brothers. One is 19, born in Ireland to an Irish mother and an English father and then raised in Scotland. The other, 20, was born and raised in Scotland.

Let me replay part of our conversation:

Louis (the 19 yr old): Wouuld yew tew like sum sewp?
Liz: Um, sure! What kind of soup?
Louis [proudly]: We made it!
Jen: What’s in it?
Louis: Tatties, nee-
Liz: Wait, “tatties?”
Louis: Yes, tatties.
Jen: What are tatties?
Louis: Yew don’t knoh whaht tatties ahre?!
Jamie: “Lewwis, thehy’re fhrom Amerrrrica! They don’t know how to speek English!
Louis: Tatties. Tatties. Like. Taters.
Jen: Taters. Ohhh, potTAToes! Wait, “tatties” are potatoes?!
Jamie (amusedly exhasperated): YESSS!
Louis: So, in dah sewp, weh’ve goht tatties, neeps, chic-
Liz: Wait, neeps?
Louis: Yes, neeps!
Jen: What are neeps?
Louis: Neeps! Like, sweeds!
Liz: Sweeds?! What are sweeds?!
Jamie: Whaaawt?! Yew two hahv nehver heard of sweeds?!
Liz: No! We’ve never heard of sweeds! Or neeps!
Louis: Jaihhmie, goh on. Show ‘em a sweed.
[Jaime going to the fridge to pull out a rutabega like vegetable.]
Louis: Soh, hahve yew tew eveher ‘eard ohf hagus and neeps and tatties?
Jen: We’ve heard of haggiss, yea.
Liz: Isn’t hagus sheep bladder?
Louis: Welllll, most people think thaht it’s juhst the bladder, but it’s the intestins tew!

The rest of the night continued in similar fashion. The boys had us rolling with stories of the stupidity of sheep (one of the boy’s father owns a sheep farm) and pranks played on unsuspecting school teachers.  The f-word also was used about every other sentence, making all of the stories for some reason even funnier.

We learned a lot about Scottish pride, that the Scottish invented golf, and that Irish whiskey is shit and not real whiskey. 

After a while talking with Liz and our Scottish cleaning mates for a while, I went to bed much happier. And then Liz and I woke up and went for a hike in the rain, finding a clementine tree (the clemintines were so good and so little!) and some CRAZY birds. 

Liz has also been feeling a bit homesick. At home, even if our jobs aren’t the greatest, we still are always surrounded by our families and friends. Here….the jobs aren’t the greatest….and we’re not surrounded by all of our friends and family.

Don’t get me wrong, though!  We are having a great time. It’s absolutely beautiful and more people from all over the world are coming into town every day. The restaurant work great. Plus, Liz and I both have each other. : ) AND WE’RE QUITTING THE HOTEL CLEANING IN 1.5 WEEKS! Thank. God. I think sometimes we each get a bit overwhelmed when we think about actually living here...and the fact that we're not just on vacation.

But then we pull ourselves together and say, “Ok! We’re fine!” And then we go out and do enjoy New Zealand.

Miss you all!

A Hike

Greetings, Americans! I’m glad that Jen wrote about our restaurant – these things are also useful for me to know. : )

I just walked around town with our friend Tal, from Israel, but the walk lasted about ten minutes because it’s literally freezing outside. Also raining. New Zealand has confused itself with Michigan or something. We came back to the nice warm kitchen, and the Danish girls eating dinner with the Australian who lives here, and the creepy older English guy who’s missing a tooth.

But anyway, I was going to tell you all about the hike we took, to the Haruru Falls. Because it was awesome. It was about 11 km round trip; we walked through town, crossed the bridge, and went along the grass along the road for a ways to get to the start of the “track,” which is what they call hiking trails. There were lots of signs saying “No Dogs: Kiwi Habitat.” Unfortunately, kiwis are nocturnal, so we saw not a one.

Anyway, we walked all along through the forest; ate our lunch sitting in a giant tree; crossed some long boardwalks through a mangrove swamp (mangrove: Varicennia marina var resinifera); saw some wild birds (I mean, they were literally wild, but they were also very excitingly uncommon); took lots of pictures of trees and ferns and flowers; and befriended a rooster. The falls themselves were beautiful; not so big, but impressive enough, and falling into a gorge with steep walls. Jen had to book it back to work, sadly, but I sat on the rocks in the sun for awhile, and read my book, and stuck my feet in the water, before walking back.

Oh – some of the birds we saw were very big, crane or pelican looking things, nesting in big neighborhoods in the trees next to the trail. There were lots of fuzzy babies in the nests – but these babies were still like the size of adult robins, or something like that. Pretty big. One nest we saw, the babies were all dancing around the mom, squawking their heads off, and finally the mom ducked her head and one of the babies stuck its entire head into her throat. It looked like the mom was eating her child. You could see the throat bulging out with the head of the baby bird. Then finally the bird pulled its head out, apparently very satiated with its delicious meal. This whole process happened a couple more times. It was like watching Planet Earth.

We also experienced a salt marsh, heard the interesting sound effects of “snapping shrimp” (I poked around in the mud with a stick but couldn’t find any; the marsh sounded like people were hiding behind every tree popping popcorn, but apparently that’s the shrimp making these noises), and saw these big birds with curvy little yellow things hanging from their foreheads over the faces like dropping unicorn horns.

It was all extremely fascinating. I am more determined than ever to somehow find myself a New Zealand field guide.

Toilets.

Jen again -

OH MY GOD.

I HAVE CLEANED SO MANY TOILETS. Relatively clean toilets, really dirty toilets, toilets with pee stains, toilets with shit stains, toilets with LOTS of shit stains. URINALS.

I HATE CLEANING TOILETS. When Liz and I clean the hostel, we clean toilets (we switch off every day).  We’re also now doing spring cleaning at the 5 star hotel down the road after our hostel cleaning which means MORE toilets. And tonight, at the restaurant, it was my job to clean all the toilets.

AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

I am going to come back to the U.S. and NEVER clean another toilet AGAIN. 

First day of work

 Jen here -

(I wrote this on my first day of work)

Today I started at the Swiss Grill and Café, a small, upscale restaurant on the waterfront that during in its busiest time seats about 115 people (right now it only seats about 30 people at a time). It serves Swiss food….. well, it serves Weiner Schnitzel, an entrée (appetizer) called, “Alpine Ziovioi”, and a main (entrée) called, “The Swiss Twist.” The rest of the menu really isn’t Swiss at all, unless the falafel in the “Arabian Nights Salad” is secretly imported from Zurich.

Regardless of the lack of complete Swiss authenticity, it really is a quaint and charming little place. Tables are snug and close together. Red candles light every table as the evening darkens. The smell of red wine fills the air and the presentation on every item that comes out of the kitchen is “just so”. 

Mmmmmm. Quite nice.  And there are only three other people who work there; Kelly, the Kiwi owner; Paini, the Maori chef; and Nami, the part-time German waitress. 

But as the Kiwis would say, “One problem, mate!”

I know NOTHING about wine.

I could tell you that a Riesling is white, a merlot is red, and a Chardonnay is technically a white but is actually this weird pink color.  Strange.

But that’s probably about it.

Today a customer asked about the body of the wine she were about to order and I thought to myself, "Body?! WHAAAAT?!.......Like, a tall body? A short body? A skinny body?!  And old, fat, balding body?! WHAT are you talking about?!" 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH……..I would rather just have a beer.

So hopefully, over the next few months, Liz and I will learn to “truly appreciate wine.”

Hopefully.

Hopefully.

On a better note – the owner, Kelly, is WONDERFUL. So nice. So, so nice. She’s really patient and kind, but wants things done correctly and the right way. And Paini, the chef, is always sneaking me food on the side.  It’s great, although at this rate, I’m going to be about 300 pounds by Christmas time. 

Getting It All Sorted

Kia Ora!

Little by little, we’re getting our Paihia life straightened out. We have jobs, and a place to live. We know where the supermarket, postshop, library, popular bars, public green, and pharmacy are. We have a NZ cell phone with $27 on it (we’re sharing it; our manager, Jack, gave us his old phone.) Today we had an appointment at the Kiwi Bank and set up our very own NZ bank accounts. When we go out, we usually run into someone we know (Paihia is a small town), and we’re learning the new NZ vocabulary. (For example, a debit card is known as an “Eft Pos” card, and we now each have one. Very exciting.)

As Jen said, the coffee is weird here. There’s instant coffee (the most common thing that people drink at home), filter coffee (our typical brewed coffee – an option here in most restaurants and cafes), and espressos. As far as espresso goes, they have short blacks, tall blacks, and flat whites. My first time at a coffee shop here, in Auckland, I asked for a medium coffee, and the woman said, “Black or white?” I was like, “Eh? What? White coffee?” Turns out, that just means there’s steamed milk in it; a white coffee is basically a latte. “Black” coffee might still have cream or sugar added, but there’s no steamed milk; it’s an Americano, espresso with hot water.

Okay, sorry, sorry, that was boring as hell.

Anyway, the point is, we no longer feel so floundering. For a little while, it was like, “Wow – are we going to find jobs? Are we going to wither away, friendless and starving? Are we in way over our heads?” Maybe not quite that extreme. But there was a day where I was like, What the crap are we doing. We are surrounded by ocean and sheep. But things are genuinely working out.

We did spend a solid five hours today cleaning. Money is money, right? We spent three hours on one kitchen in the five star hotel where we’ve started work. You should have seen me literally climbing inside the cupboards and Jen waltzing around atop the counter. I would literally eat off that kitchen’s floor. Or off the surface of any one of the cupboards. I would actually eat the cupboard itself, that’s how clean we made it.

Jen’s started working at the Swiss Café; tonight is her third night in a row. I start tomorrow, for my three days. We’re getting trained up for NZ’s big “Labour Weekend,” which starts the 22nd. I’ll let Jen tell you about the job, as so far I know nothing except that they make their wiener schnitzel with pork, not veal (thank god), and there are literally only two things on the menu that could be called “Swiss.”

We went on an Amazing Hike yesterday to the Haruru Falls, but I’m going to leave that story for my next post.

Au revoir,
Liz

We Got Jobs!!

(This is the island Jen and I kayaked to a few days ago.)

Everyone should be extremely relieved and delighted to hear that Jen and I are now Officially Employed. Our job interview yesterday was very successful, and we’re now both going to be waitresses at the Swiss Café. This is great, because I came over to New Zealand really hoping that I could improve my knowledge of wiener schnitzels.

In addition, we’ve also been offered a job at the Pioneer Hotel and Apartments, cleaning and the like. Personally, I HATE cleaning, but as we are desperate for money, we’re going to at least try it out. For the next two weeks, starting Monday, we’ll be working 2-4 hours a day (probably five days a week) cleaning the rooms. Woooo…I am going to come back and be SO GOOD at making beds and dusting and washing toilets. So good. Great.

I’m actually excited about being a waitress, though. I’ve always wanted to try it. You just wait…there might be an entry soon about me spilling wiener schnitzel all over someone’s lap.

(I’m going to try and say ‘wiener schnitzel’ as much as possible in this blog.)

In other news:
- I went swimming in the ocean at midnight last night, and it was awesome and exciting and beautiful, although I keep forgetting it’s going to be salty, and then it gets all in my eyes and mouth
- I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in aaages, because New Zealanders all drink instant apparently. Ugh.
- Today is our ‘coworker’ Fio’s 24th birthday, so we picked her flowers and made her a giant American breakfast of eggs and potatoes and toast. Delicious. Tonight there’s a big potluck barbecue at the hostel for her.
- I learned the entire family history of a guy I met at a bar yesterday, and also had my arm signed by a “percussionist extraordinaire.” It was very interesting. Jen and I retreated quickly.

Also, if anyone out there has the burning desire to send us a care package, or you know, something like that, it turns out that sun screen is like four hundred dollars an ounce here (three hundred fifty USD) so that would be awesome…

A Few Pictures from New Zealand

At the most popular 'backpacker bar,' known as "Pipi's." From left to right it's Tommy the Aussie, me, Fio from Peru, and Izzie from Germany. And naturally I am drinking apple juice.

This is Jen with the little dog Murky who lives at the hostel with us. He is the cutest dog ever and weighs about four ounces. (Or whatever the metric equivalent of that is. Shoot. I have to get better at that.)

Me, Jen, and our Israeli friend Tal on top of a lookout over the Bay. It was beautiful.

This is the forest here. It's amazing.

New Zealand differences....

Jen again:


Pretty cool fact:  you don’t have to wear shoes here. You can walk in restaurants, stores, the post office …all without shoes. CRAZY! It’s still been a bit too cold for Liz and I to really get into that yet.

Some word changes:

jangles = flip flops (Australians call them thongs)
jumper = hoodie/sweatshirt
footpath = sidewalk
lift = elevator
entrée = appetizer (yup, this is confusing)
tea = dinner
biscuit = cookie
tramping = backpacking

I’ll let Liz explain all of the coffee differences.

And we have a job interview today! The Swiss Chalet (a restaurant on the ocean front) called us for an interview at 4:00. We’ll keep you posted. ☺

Jen:

Right now I’m sitting outside in the hostel’s courtyard. Liz is still sleeping (rightly so, because it IS only 8:00). To my left in the courtyard is the “spa pool”; next to that is the rack full of kayaks and mountain bikes; straight ahead and above is the deck everyone has tea on after we finish cleaning; to the right is the rest of the hostel building, white and covered with red and pink flowers.; and finally, behind me are tons of exotic trees (Liz has seriously gone crazy trying to figure out what kind of trees they all are.)

Right now it’s about 55 degrees? The weather here so far: SUPER cold during the night (probably around upper 40s) and pretty hot during the day (low 80s?) We’ve heard that the weather will only be getting warmer, which is welcome news because the comfortors on our beds aren’t thaaaaaaaaat warm. Last night, Liz used the airplane blanket and I put on another layer.

Notes on Paihia so far?

It is BEAUTIFUL. We seriously walk out of the hostel, and within 2 minutes we are staring at the Bay of Islands. The water is clear and a bright blue. The beaches are warm and clean. Looking out over the water, you can see a few of the “144 islands.” In the distance, it looks like volcanoes and rolling hills are just popping out of the water. At night, the sky goes through the color spectrum: yellow then orange then pink then light purple then purple then dark blue then even darker blue. …It is amazing.

Everyone we’ve met, for the most part, has been very friendly. The girls from Peru who are doing the same work are really friendly and helpful.  Ryona, the manager’s daughter, loves to hang out and make us watch her climb the trees. Tommy, a 19 yr old Aussie who is friends with the Peruvian girls we work with, invited us over to his apartment for a homemade dinner last night.  There’s already a potluck barbeque in the works for next Thursday.

The onnnnnnly problem with Paihia:

There’s no work yet. Some of our new friends that we’ve met have been putting in applications for weeks now and haven’t really been finding very much. However, that’s supposed to change…..hopefully. The first cruise ship comes in October 16 and I guess when that happens, then the town gets insane. We heard that 1000 people a day come into Paihia. So in the next few weeks, supposedly all of the restaurants and cruise ships will be hiring. 

And Liz and I need jobs….badly. It is pretty expensive here. Even with the exchange rate that is in our favor, it is ridiculous. We went to the grocery store yesterday to get enough for 4 days or so and we were SHOCKED. So…….we will be eating ummm, a lot of pasta and rice dishes(It SO reminds me of Ireland) and not snacking.  :) 

The one good thing about the job situation is that it’s definitely showing us how foreigners literally “follow the jobs” in another country. It’s definitely a good life experience to be a part of that; that is for sure.

Alright. It’s cold. And I actually have this stupid cold that has me blowing my nose every two minutes and sneezing all over this laptop so I am going back to bed.

Bye!

One Week Gone

Liz here:

This blog has been slow to start, once we left the boring wait of the airport, but we promise we’ll keep everyone more updated now. There’s already so much to write about. Jen did a good job of summarizing Paihia, this beautiful little summer tourist town right on the bay. It reminds me a little of northern Lake Michigan towns, Petoskey or something, except with palms instead of pines, seashells instead of zebra mussels, scuba diving shops instead of go-carts. There are still all of the hotels, restaurants, little gift shops, ice cream shops, and even a fudge place.

(They have different flavors, though. Rum and raisin is very popular for both ice cream and fudge. There’s something called ‘hokey-pokey,’ and lots of boysenberries, and strange fruits I’ve never heard of. Also maple syrup is a classic ice cream flavor, which sounds delicious.)

We’re working for accommodation at Centabay Lodge, which means from ten to noon every day we clean the place, along with two girls from Peru (Holly, 27, and Fio, 23) and a girl from Canada (Sky, late twenties.) The manager, Jack, who’s probably in his mid-forties and is apparently some kind of big-shot golfer in NZ – he just won a tournament and got his photo in the newspaper – tells us what to do and then has us up to his balcony for tea and “biscuits” (which are actually just chocolate chip cookies, silly Kiwis) when we’re done for the day. Also, he has made fun of me twice for being “blonde” now, and Jen and I are trying to decide if he’s creepy or just a jokester. He’s a character.

Ryona, though, his daughter? She and her little orange dog Murky are like, my favorite part of Centabay. She’s the most talkative and affectionate eight-year-old I’ve ever met. Jen taught her some card tricks, and she goes to the beach with all of us. The other day she helped me clean the kitchen.

Oh right, so cleaning? Two hours a day, we clean the big common kitchen, the common rooms, the bathrooms, the bedrooms people have left. We do the laundry – washing, folding, hanging out on the lines (all of the sheets and towels always smell SO good.) Basically we're migrant workers. Also, a few times a week, we unload luggage from the tour buses to the big fancy hotel next door (it takes like twenty minutes) and then we get free dinner at this giant gourmet buffet. Yesterday was the first time doing that - holy crap was it amazing. Basically never have I eaten so much. But damn, do you feel like you've lost your dignity when you are crawling around on your hands and knees in a bus's luggage compartment hauling out rich ladies' giant bags.

Don't worry, there's fun stuff though: we've been swimming in the ocean, laying on the beach, and kayaking out to the islands. (The islands are like PIRATE ISLANDS.) (Ha - you should have seen Jen and I lugging these two hundred pound double kayak across the town's main road. We were going about half a mile per hour and almost got hit by about eight cars.) We've found so many cool seashells. We've been out to the bar (they drink shots out of tea pots! Ha!) and met a bajillion cool people at the hostel, sat in the hot tub and done pilates together in the morning. Yesterday Jen and I went for our first hike, up the big hill/small mountain behind town to a lookout over the bay. It's really jungle here - there is such a diversity of trees and ferns. I'm going to be an old-fashioned naturalist and take samples and make drawings of everything. I can't wait to learn all of the plants.

More later - today we're hiking to Haruru Falls!

Our Address Here!

In case you want to send us letters or packages, or just look us up on Google Earth and spy on us from above, our address here for the moment is Centabay Lodge, 27 Selwyn Rd., Paihia, NZ. Check it out.

First Post: Originally Written Thursday, Sept. 30

Liz:

I’m writing this sitting in Sydney’s International Airport. It’s 7:56 on Thursday morning, which means that we have skipped Wednesday entirely. While all of you Michiganders are back there, making your way through your Wednesday afternoon, we made our way straight from the 28^th to the 30^th. No more Wednesdays for us, we decided. Well – maybe just not this week.

We can see all kinds of interesting trees from the airport windows, and a great deal of highway traffic. The sky is very blue and bright for so early in the morning. Inside the airport, the most exciting thing is definitely the prices: $3.60 for a miniature coffee, for example, or $17.00 for some airport take-out Chinese food. SEVENTEEN DOLLARS. (Jen: And a bagel costs $4.50. A BAGEL! And that’s not even including cream cheese!) I am not making this up. I thought at first that maybe just Australian dollars weren’t worth very much, but one Australian dollar is .9989 U.S. dollars, so there goes that theory.

Ooh, news update: Jen just spilled one such miniature coffee all over her pants. She points out that at least the coffee scent should mask the B.O. (Give us a break: fourteen hours is a hella long time to sit on a stuffy plane.)

Right, so, we’ve gotten pretty far in our travels so far, and there’re just a couple more hours of layover and a three-hour flight until we deplane in Auckland, New Zealand and commence our six-month adventure. Mostly, I am looking forward to taking off my hiking boots, which, funny story, I am wearing because our suitcases weighed too much; more on that later.

We took off from Detroit at approximately 8 pm EDT Monday night, and flew to Los Angeles. Jen and I were next to a guy named Jeff, a fellow Wolverine, who played varsity soccer at Michigan and had been back in Ann Arbor for an alumni game. He very generously bought us drinks to celebrate the start of the Grand Adventure, and except for some napping, we had some surprisingly interesting conversations on our way to LAX. Definitely the first time I have ever discussed the meaning of love, relationships, or the rigors of investment banking with someone I met on an airplane.

Los Angeles was hot, humid, and thronged with bright, giant, beautiful trees and flowers. It also meant I got to see my great friends Gwen and Mirabeth Braude, which was excellent. Gwen and her boyfriend Rudy picked us up from LAX, and we all went home and crashed, equally exhausted. I’m going to pass this over to Jen now, though:

In the morning at Gwen’s house, I woke up to my sleeping bag sprouting feathers EVERYWHERE. As Liz put it, it looked like I had slept with a chicken. 

Rudy (Gwen’s incredibly nice boyfriend) gave us a ride to the REI in Santa Monica. I exchanged my sleeping bag for a new one for free (go REI!) and then Liz and I spent a while walking around the Santa Monica/beach area. We didn’t see any famous celebrities (sorry Claire!), but because Liz and I are probably the worst at keeping up with pop culture, maybe they were there…maybe...

We figured that New Zealand probably doesn’t have much Mexican food, so we stopped at a little Mexican place called “Lula’s” for lunch. The food was AMAZING; also amazing was their collection of tequila: Lula’s carries 465 kinds. (No….we didn’t sample any.)

We then walked the 5 or 6 miles back to Gwen’s along the beach. Keeping us amused for part of the way was this middle aged man who found it necessary to wear only a black thong bathing suit and to literally scamper through the ocean waves…

(‘Scamper’ is the perfect word for it. The beach was amazing, by the way. The water was freezing and frothy, and there were giant waves crashing all up and down the shore that surfers were taking advantage of. The big gusts of salty, fishy air off the water were happily welcomed to combat the ridiculous heat. Haha…that reminds me of “fish sauce.” Anyway, carrying on…)

Liz and I also made a horrible discovery in LA:  On the way to LA, each piece of luggage was allowed to be 50 lbs. For the flight to New Zealand, each person’s COMBINED two pieces had to be less than 70 lbs. Liz and I both had about 84 lbs each…you can see how this was a problem.

To save the $100 apiece, Liz and I did what any cheap student traveler would do: we left all of our extra snacks and toiletries in LA and showed up to the airport wearing our hiking boots, wool socks, fleece sweaters, fleece jackets, and carrying about 90 lbs. in our carry-ons.  Needless to say, Liz and I were very, umm, HOT, in the airport. But we made it! And saved some money!

Note: A thank you must be made to Gwen who let us stay at her house and who drove us to/from the airport and Mirabeth, who kept us amused with anecdotes of boys while we repacked all of our bags.

Yes, thank you so much to the Braudes, for rides, a place to sleep, and great conversation and company. You guys rock and it was awesome to see you. J

I have to make a plug at this point for Trader Joe’s “Gummy Tummies Penguins,” which Claudia and Corinna dropped off for me the morning of my departure. They are awesome. We have been hard-core eating them since leaving Detroit and it is very sad that we are going to run out soon.

This entry is getting longer than any blog entry deserves to be, so I’ll sum up the flight quickly: Long. Quite long. I discovered many new ways of contorting my body in order to sleep, and watched more movies and television than I have in a long time. The food wasn’t half bad though, and pretty much everybody on the plane had Australian accents, which amused me to no end. Jen was sitting next to an elderly Australian couple across the aisle from me, and they gave her their names, address, and phone number within the first three minutes of meeting her. As the plane took off into the air, the man bounced up in his seat and shouted, “Bye America!” Also – ha – Jen tells me that she kept waking up to the tiny old man literally leaping over her to get into or out of his seat. He is possibly half-Kangaroo.

I promise all of our entries won’t be this long; five hours is just a long time to sit in an airport, and the time needs to be occupied somehow.

           I just read Liz’s description of the couple sitting next to me and started laughing. Yes, this older couple was AWESOME. They were probably about 70 and have traveled all over the world. They live in Tasmania and own a bed and breakfast that they operate whenever they’re actually home. When the plane took off and I gave a start, the man gave a wild, “Whoop!” in addition to the yell of, “Gooooood bye America!!!!!!” And the best part about this couple? They are still terribly in love. You could just tell. The man fell asleep with his head on his wife’s shoulder with his arms wrapped around her. They would hold hands when watching tv shows.  They were great. And gave me great advice on where to visit.  And the part-kangaroo part: NO JOKE. I was sitting on the aisle sleeping with my head on the tv tray (nice advice, Andy!) and woke SEVERAL times to this man leaping over my head from his seat next to me to the aisle. It was ridiculous.