Simon Says

Aware that most of you are probably sick of hearing from Megan and me, for the latest installment of bamrtw we have, as promised, ceded the keyboard to our first guest writer...Dad Leese! [excited applause].

I am most honoured to be the first ‘guest blogger’ on the Ben and Megan odyssey, but having had to wait so patiently for them to arrive in Christchurch, it is the least they could do. They managed to pick a Jet Star flight which ran to schedule, and their (minimal) luggage improbably arrived with them – in all a good start. A biosecurity lapse enabled Ben’s running shoes to enter the country also, so what else was could be needed.

Safely installed ‘at home’, washing machine in action, and an acceptance that Jane had assumed they had not had a square meal in months, they have settled into a respite in Christchurch before the rigours of South America. Apparently objectives whilst here include finding jobs to go back to, ditto somewhere to live, and devise the plan for retrieving their material and canine possessions from the four corners of North America. That should keep them busy.

After a day’s R&R we all set off for Dunedin, with a four-hour run to the midday lunch booking at Fleur’s Place, Moraeki arriving minute perfect (you can do that in New Zealand).

The run down the country’s main arterial route (one lane each way and passing places at intervals) could hardly be regarded as stressful. A delightful couple of hours in the sunshine, and then off to book into The Brothers’ boutique B&B. The place used to be the home of the Brothers who staffed the Roman Catholic Cathedral adjacent to it. The happy couple found themselves in the unique ‘Chapel’ room, whilst we repaired to a dowdy garret elsewhere… En route, we caught up with Tom (currently laying firm foundations for a career in sales and marketing selling up-market car polish to anyone who strays too close and can’t handle his badinage). Then on to the national schools’ choral federation finale concert in the Town Hall, to see ‘my’ choirs outperform every other effort from all over the country. Inexplicably, three very high-powered judges allowed swine flu symptoms to get the better of them, and the top spot went elsewhere – but we took it well.

After a night’s diligent prayer in the Chapel, the happy couple enjoyed a run along the Dunedin peninsula to meet Simon Richardson, who is charged with the unenviable task of committing my visage to canvas, under commission by my Board. He tells me he can mix botox in with the pigment with splendid results. Ben found talking to his gorgeous wife whilst trying not to be distracted by her framed naked form on the walls something of a discipline, but all were very impressed by the part completed work.

Then on to the Albatross colony at the end of the peninsula – a fascinating insight into these amazing birds, most of whom weren’t there. Five days non stop flight time to Chile was just one amazing fact, along with pairs bonding for life of up forty years, but spending most of each two year breeding cycle apart and doing their own thing. Sounds perfect. (Most of the birds in this photo are shags, but there is one albatross visible as a white speck!)

Also on view was a WW2 Armstrong disappearing gun in restored condition, in its emplacement to defend Dunedin harbour. In the large circular gun chamber, the 360 degree aiming marks around the walls included a segment marked with a thick red line and the words ‘LIGHTHOUSE’. Worth a reminder, we thought…

On the way back to Christchurch we stopped off to look at the Moeraki Boulders, an extraordinary geological formation revered by Maori for their mystical significance. Ben, on the other hand, thought one of them looked like a breaking dinosaur egg and decided to hatch out.

Spring is springing in Christchurch, with cherry blossom and azaleas everywhere for the pair of them to run round. Far too much energy.

Flight of the Leeses

After somewhat adjusting to the Australian winter chill, we have now arrived in New Zealand where the temps are even lower and people are still inexplicably strolling around in T-shirts! Clearly we are wimps, but I'm hoping we'll adjust soon enough as well. New Zealand is everything I've heard about - even from the plane, I couldn't believe how gorgeous the coastline and green hills were. Every view is spectacular and the towns all appear to be quite charming and full of hardy, outdoorsy, very friendly people. It has been a warm welcome, despite the weather! Unfortunately, our time in the North Island was very brief, as we (fortunately!) have my new in-laws awaiting us in Christchurch on the South Island, where we'll spend a few wonderful weeks being pampered and spending a lot of Internet time trying to arrange our lives back in New York. We did make the most of our North Island experience, though, by renting a tiny car and driving the length of it - again , with me driving on the left side, and this time I only pulled out into traffic on the right side of the road once!

We flew into Auckland and only spent one night there, as while it's a pleasant enough capital city, there isn't really much to see or do there when there's such gorgeous scenery throughout the rest of the country. We did however stay about a block off Parnell Road, which is lined with really cute restaurants, boutiques, and old Victorian houses turned into tea shops. Bright and early the next morning, we set out for Rotorua, well known for the lake that dominates the middle of the town (where I saw black swans for the first time!) and the crazy geothermal activity throughout the rest of it.

The town itself is pretty quiet, but the geothermal sights are amazing. We spent an afternoon walking through steaming lakes of bubbling mud and a cemetery filled with spooky tendrils of rotten-egg scented vapor - a great setting for a horror movie. Just outside of town is a sort of geothermal theme park, Wai-O-Tapu, with a large and very punctual geyser, visually stunning formations, and mineral-filled lakes and waterfalls. The whole area has that sulfur smell, but it doesn't matter when you're looking at springs naturally colored electric green and brilliant orange.

Rotorua is also known for its large indigenous Maori population, so we went to a "traditional" Maori village for an evening of traditionally cooked food (prepared in a hangi, an underground stone oven) and eye-rolling, tongue-waggling entertainment. The Maori were a very warlike, intimidating people, as appropriated by the national All Blacks rugby team - how would you like to oppose this on the playing field?:


and we learned about their war dances and weapons from the Maoris themselves. The whole evening was really fun and not nearly as menacing as it looks.

After our brief stay in Rotorua, we hit the road once again and headed for Taupo, also known for its huge lake. Rather than hot springs, Taupo instead features trout fishing, so we decided to give it a go. Unfortunately, once we got our fishing license and rented the equipment, Ben cast the spinner about 3 times before the rod separated into two pieces, the line broke, and we ended up with a 2-foot pole and only one lure left. The whole cheap endeavor resulted in our buying the shop a new rod and no fresh fish for our dinner, but we did have a great time on the gorgeous river.

Our last day on the North Island was dedicated to our driving straight down to Wellington to return the car and catch our flight to Christchurch, but the scenery along the drive was well worth the trip. For a solid hour, the most spectacular rainbow either of us had ever scene lingered just ahead of us, begging us to find the pot of gold - it occurred to us that such a find would preclude our having to look for jobs in New York, but we drove on instead. We passed over beautiful rolling green hills, by countless sheep, and under a sparkling sky.

I can't believe we have so much time to enjoy this country, especially from the comforts of a family home. The next few blog posts will probably be on the shorter side and involve lots of references to bottles of wine and sleeping in, but we do intend to explore the South Island and keep the updates going. Also, rumor has it a guest blogger may make an appearance, so stay tuned!

The Bill and Ben

As we waited for the greyhound from Coffs Harbour to our next stop of Byron Bay we had a pint at the local inn and soon found ourselves talking to a group of old guys who, in between offering to drive us round the area, assured us that Byron was "the worst dump on the coast - and that's fair dinkum mate!" (they actually did say that). We can only assume that they were not fans of beautiful, walkable towns with sensational beaches and great ice cream because after three days we certainly had no complaints. While continuing the "out of season holiday town" theme we've established on this trip we had a very relaxing stay (for the most part), and with the drive north providing a crucial couple of extra degrees we got to spend a lot of time lounging on the beach.

Megan as Ursula Andress:

Me and a yoghurt pot reconnecting with my inner 8 year old:

The only incident of real note occurred on our first full day shortly after we parted ways on a run around the iconic local lighthouse. As Megan headed home to our hostel I turned back for another lap of the hill - this time to include the steep path which takes you right out into the water at the very tip of the headland on which the lighthouse sits. A short while later I arrived at what is officially Australia's most Easterly point just as the sun began to set over the sea and the long wintery shadows it cast on the afternoon waves were absolutely spectacular. June to November is peak whale and dolphin season and I had just begun to see if I could spot any of the tell-tale plumes when I realized that... I was standing in one of several piles of human sick! The moment immediately spoiled I looked around for a possible author and sure enough, just a few feet away, were sprawled a guy and two girls (English of course), who seemed much less concerned about their various regurgitations than I was. Annoyed, and somehow believing that in my running gear I cut some sort of imposing figure, I told the guy that he was doing the reputation of Queen and country no favours. By way of response my compatriot, who despite his state seemed to have made a much better appraisal than I of our disparate sizes, punched me on the nose. Four times.

I don't think I've ever been punched in the face before which, while an odd realization for a 29 year old guy, may explain my reaction. The interval between punches one to two was spent being pleasently suprised at how little it actually hurt, two to three was spent wondering if I should be trying to "duck and weave" (and how I might go about doing this), and three to four was wasted appealing to two nearby fisherman who clearly regarded one Englishman punching another as saving them a job. With my fight response clearly on holiday I eventually got around to flighting and made my way back up the hill wondering what else I should have done. On my way back though the sensible option presented itself and I ducked into the local police station for what I assumed would be the usual lengthy wait followed by a round of form filling in. To my surprise however, as soon as I mentioned the words "drunk Englishman," four burly examples of New South Wales' finest appeared out of a back room, dove into a van and charged back up the hill with me in tow. Sure enough my friends hadn't moved and after a brief comparison of accounts he was led away to what I was told would be a $350 fine and a permanent file leading to some awkward questions should he ever apply for an Australian visa again - they don't mess around Down Under.

A crimewatch reconstruction:

In case anyone's worried that having survived India and south east Asia we are somehow attempting to engineer some drama for the blog I can assure you that the rest of our sojourn in Australia passed very pleasantly and without police involvement. In fact we've become quite domestic and, having kitchens at our disposal for the first time in several months, have taken the opportunity to cook up some of our specialities:

Despite being a decade older than many of the guests we also took full advantage of our hostel's free Sangria night and as well as mild hangovers the event provided the first of what was to become a series of encounters with slightly odd Australian raconteurs. I forget why we first spoke to Damian but we spent much of the evening being regaled with stories of how he had spent many years earning a living crafting fairy stars from cardboard and glitter (so far so normal for a hippie town like Byron Bay), how he owned the largest collection of Charlie Chaplin paraphenalia in the world, how he had managed to acquire the only case of Don Bradman commemorative beer to have avoided being smashed by the teetotaller's lawyers and how Damian Marley was named after him (we were as skeptical as you until he produced a fistful of photos of a younger himself and Bob). We finally escaped as he began to tell us about the flying saucer he was building utilizing secret government plans but he was an entertaining guy and as an interaction it was definitely an improvement on the day before.

From Byron Bay we took the Greyhound north once again along the Gold Coast and through my old home town of Surfer's Paradise. While another sun-drenched evening made the coastal drive an enjoyable trip down memory lane it was with some trepidation that we approached our final stop of Brisbane - our guidebook had described the Queensland capital as "excelling only in mediocrity, lethargy and unreliable public transport"(!) While it's certainly true that Brisbane lacks an Opera House and for some inexplicable reason any real beaches, it was actually a great stay though we didn't get far beyond sightseeing from the river and strolling the beautifully landscaped South Bank area. We also owe a huge debt of gratitude to Steve, our couch-surfing host for all three days, who looked after us very well and gamely put up with hosting a Brit for the first three days of a very promising Ashes decider.

For our final night before heading to Middle Earth we had decided to experience that most Australian of obsessions - live sport! For a truly cultural evening we decided that the accompaniment to our pies and chips would be the end-of-season Aussie rules football clash between the Brisbane Lions and the Port Adelaide Power. The game is hard to explain but seems to involve huge numbers of sleeveless Aussies chasing each other and/or a rugby ball around a cricket field for an amazingly long time. Sometimes they punch the ball, sometimes they kick it and most often they fumble for it as it bounces around their feet before getting jumped on by members of the other team. I'm told the game was a very exciting one and Brisbane certainly came back from a long way down though we might not have thought their situation so hopeless if we had realized before trying to leave at halftime that they play for four quarters.

And with that we are already at the end of our time in Australia. When we made the decision to stay longer in India we knew it would be at the expense of this spectacular island but I don't think either of us regrets the decision. Australia is definitely a country we could come back to and its popularity as a holiday destination is easily understood given its spectcaular scenery and laid-back lifestyle. That said, after the sensory overload of our first three months, living in a country that is so familiar has itself been a little disorientating and the feeling that there is a temple somewhere we should be exploring or a unique food we need to sample (four and twenty pies do not count), has been hard to shake.

The Land Down Under

We've been in Australia about a week, and we're still startled by what a change it is from the earlier stops on our trip. We're no longer uncomfortably hot and sweaty, this being their winter, and it's just so easy to do everything. Being in an English-speaking first world country is a shock to the senses after the places we've been lately, and we feel like we don't really know what to do with ourselves without cultural artifacts and unusual customs to learn about. Still, we're getting by with plenty of time on the beach (between chilly breezes), long walks in national parks, and 30 Rock DVDs on our laptop (we bought copies of all 3 seasons in Thailand and we're catching up on everything we've ever missed! It's awesome!). We've also been graciously hosted by a friend of Ben's in Sydney (in her gorgeous apartment with Opera House views!), and then by Leese family friends outside of Sydney in their beautiful home, so the days of roughing it are feeling somewhat distant.

I really loved Sydney and can see why so many people enjoy living there - it's one of the most naturally beautiful and laid-back major cities I've been to. The Botanic Gardens fill the middle of the city, water is everywhere, and the Opera House and Harbour Bridge are visible from hundreds of vantage points, so the entire city looks like a postcard. We were struck by how quiet it is - everywhere we walked, we were alone on every block, except for the dozens of runners in the Botanic Garden. It felt like everyone was on holiday and didn't tell us, but after speaking with a few locals, it turns out Sydney is always naturally this quiet. It took a little getting used to after being in crazy Asian cities, not to mention New York, so instead of people-watching, we strolled around and looked at buildings and views instead. Another quirk we've noticed here is the light - maybe it has to do with being below the equator, or maybe it's the clean air, but the light is gorgeous here. Sunsets seem to last a few hours, so everything takes on an orangey glow all afternoon - it's a photographer's dream!

During our second morning in Sydney, it was pouring rain, so we took refuge inside the Museum of Sydney and learned about the arrival of the English to the "undiscovered" island filled with Aborigines. Australia is quite young, its founding even more recent than that of the US, so all the historical accounts felt quite vivid and new. The museum appeared to be making an effort to pay special attention to Aboriginal history, which I found interesting. It seems like the US still doesn't know what to do with its displaced Native Americans.

One of the highlights of our Sydney visit was an architecture walk, which we did the next day. We ambled around with an architect who happened to be a capable lecturer, and learned about the Opera House and its counterpoint, a skyline-dominating office building designed by Renzo Piano. I've never really understood the intellectual side of architecture, but the guy did a good job explaining the relationship and symbolism of the two buildings. The Opera House really is one of the most dynamic and spectacular buildings I've ever seen, its base supposedly representing the sandstone cliffs of Australia, and the white shells representing clouds, all within a perfectly symmetrical whole structure. It really is a gorgeous symbol for Sydney.

While in town we also managed to take a stroll through the very chilly Manly Beach, filled with gorgeous sunshine and brave surfers, and see the excellent Sydney Zoo! It might be the only way I get to see a koala, duckbilled platypus, and kangaroo, so we took advantage and had a great time. Like everywhere else in Sydney, the zoo has great city views, so it was really amazing to see the fantastic animals and exhibits in such a beautiful setting.

Thanks to Ben's family friends who hosted us in Parramatta, just a few miles down the river, we got to head out west for a couple days and take in the Blue Mountains, so called because the eucalyptus and tea trees give off a visible blue haze. We hiked through the mountains for an entire day, saw the famous Three Sisters cliffs, and didn't get lost or stranded once on the trails, so we're hoping those days are behind us. The mountains and views were gorgeous, and we loved the little repurposed coal-mining train that shot us vertically up the mountainside, saving our feet the 200 or so steps.

Once we finally decided we'd thoroughly taken advantage of Sydney and environs, we hopped on a Greyhound bus (which has turned out to be a great way to get around Oz cheaply!) and headed for the beach! The next few days were spent at Coff's Harbour, a rather sleepy beach town with absolutely amazing waves. We discovered that, if you ignore the ocean, smaller-town Australia is startlingly similar to smaller-town Texas, which perhaps explains why I feel so at home here. Once we got to Coff's, we traipsed for miles with our bags, trying to find our hotel, and we realized that there were no buses, trains, or taxis, and everything was really sprawling and spread-out, because everyone has their own SUV or pickup - much like Texas! The fast food and chain stores all looked very familiar, as did the scrubby green/brown trees and grasses. Everyone we met was extremely friendly and helpful, there is a strong Christian community, and the food portions are impossibly huge. It's uncanny - like a Bizarro Abilene on the beach.

Try as we might, it was just too cold to lie on the beach our first day, so we explored it on foot and stumbled upon a surfing competition! I'd hoped to see some good surfing here, since I've never really been around big waves before, and was not disappointed. The competitors were amazing! I intend to try surfing for myself while we're here, and I hope I'm at least able to stand up. These guys made it look so easy! We sat in the sun for hours watching the surfing before getting some fast food for dinner - our only option since everything in town closed at 6pm (another Australian quirk we've noticed. Everything closes so early! What do people do at night?!).

Other highlights in Coff's included the very cute weekend market, lined with local vendors with their handmade soaps and wood carvings, whale-watching on Muttonbird Island (sadly, no whales appeared for us), and the awesome Pet Porpoise Pool! It's sort of like a mini Sea World, but we were able to get up close and personal with some dolphins and sea lions, who were very affectionate.

Soon enough, it became time for us to leave Coff's and move on up the east coast, so we made the long walk back to the Greyhound stop, carrying our luggage and wishing we had a Texas-sized vehicle of our own...