Where are all the Kiwis?

Kia Ora (Maori version of Hello that has been picked up as English slang here), Happy Waitangi Day! What, you don’t know what Waitangi Day is all about? Don’t despair, neither do half the people who live in New Zealand and even those who do will probably argue with the others about the true meaning of Waitangi Day. Waitangi Day is celebrated in Waitangi, New Zealand, and elsewhere around the country, every year on February 6^th to mark the signing of the treaty of Waitangi, the treaty which some claim was the creation of New Zealand. This was the treaty between the native Maori population and the crown of England bringing them together, promising the Maori the continued rights to their lands and the full rights of British citizenship. Apparently, the interpretation of this treaty has always been in dispute (big shocker there, isn’t it? I’m having flashbacks of Native American history) with the Maori believing that the treaty is law and the crown believing that is more of a suggestion than a mandate. Oh Britain, you were so kind to your colonized peoples weren’t you? Maybe the Maori should have had a tea party instead, but what do I know? Those good former colonies that didn’t pick a fight with the crown get to move around without much hassle and live and work in almost any of the other countries under the crown. It is rarely that easy for Americans, but that may also be because we make it insanely difficult for anyone else to come in and live and work in the US. But that is all better left for another day and another discussion. Back to Waitangi Day.

For most people in New Zealand, Waitangi Day is just another public holiday where they either don’t have to go to work at all or they get paid time and half plus they get a day in lieu (another day that they can take off and still get paid for it). The big scandal this year was that February 6^th fell on a Saturday, so for many people they got neither a day off nor time and a half. This prompted a public outcry to make the public holiday extend to Monday the 8^th as well. As you might imagine, this did not go over very well with employers and the government opted not to extend the public holiday to the chagrin of many Monday to Friday workers.

In Queenstown, Waitangi Day for those who weren’t working meant one of two things; you either got tickets to Rippon, a big music festival over in Wanaka, or you went down to the beach and sat in the sun and listened to the DJ playing Bob Marley. Either way, the sun was shining and people were enjoying the day off in paradise. I still have not heard a single haka and I’ve only seen one United Tribes flag and that was hanging off of the DJ’s booth down by the beach. The New Zealand Sevens Rugby Tournament in Wellington seems to have gotten much more attention than Waitangi Day, so I’m not sure what that says about the importance of the day, but there you have it.

Natural disasters are simply a part of life that must be dealt with, at least occasionally, by most places in the world. Whether it is a tornado, earthquake, hurricane, firestorm, tsunami, blizzards or sand storm these natural phenomenon cannot be controlled or contained by any technology that man has discovered as yet. The best that can be done is to predict and/or track it in hopes to lessen the casualties and damage by providing an early warning to those in the affected area. But everyone knows that these technologies are not fool proof and even with plenty of advanced warning, death and destruction can occur. The problem with the predictions for earth quakes and volcanoes and the like, is that scientist are forever predicting that “the big one” will be occurring. Initially, that prediction might cause people in the area to be concerned and take certain precautions to try to ensure their safety, but after a while “the big one” predictions works more like the boy who cried wolf. There is a volcano near Auckland that is supposed to wipe out most of that city when it occurs. As yet, Auckland still stands and most residents of the city put more thought into tying their shoes than about that possible future volcano. And what about California? When did the predictions begin that an earthquake would break it along the San Andreas Fault line and make it “fall into the Pacific”? So far it seems to still be hanging on to the rest of the US, despite many conservatives prayers that it would go ahead and take that plunge into the ocean.

In the central Otago region of the South Island of New Zealand, in which Queenstown is centrally located, they have been predicting that a big earthquake should hit at any moment. It is, they claim, more than thirty years over due but there is really not much that anyone living here can do to prevent an earthquake so what is the point of sharing this prediction with the areas residents? This is the New Zealand countryside where there are no buildings more than four stories tall, no large apartment complexes or shopping malls. The biggest problem will be that most of the houses are built into the hillsides surrounding Queenstown’s downtown area in order to create for each property better views of the lake. This planning scheme is great for a builder’s profit margin because who wouldn’t want an unobstructed lake view, but makes little or no sense in an area that suffers from occasional seismic activity. However, you can see the builder’s point of view as well because so far that big one hasn’t happened and the houses haven’t been tested. This is the whole boy who cried wolf problem.

Anyway, the people in this area know that occasionally earthquakes do occur. Usually, though, they are not big enough to even be felt by the residents of Queenstown. That is, until last night. I was sprawled out across my bed talking on the phone in what I’m sure must have looked like a scene from some 1980’s chick flick, kicking my feet in cliché fashion when I noticed that my bed was still moving even though I wasn’t. Strange, I though briefly but went back to my conversation without saying anything to my friend on the line. Then I noticed that my closet doors were gently swaying. So, I turned over and my windows were shut which meant it wasn’t the wind blowing that was making the closet doors move. Finally, I noticed that the lamp that hangs down from my ceiling was also swaying and the bed started to move again. At this point, I could no longer ignore what was going on so I asked my friend on the phone if she had ever been in an earthquake. When she said no I ran out to the living room to ask my roommates, who were watching TV, if they had felt the house move at all. Of course, they too had felt it and having been in the area longer than I have, knew that it was an earthquake. I was overly excited by this because I come from a land of hurricanes, not earthquakes and this was my very first earthquake that I have actually been able to feel. There was no rumbling or rattling like you hear in the movies or on TV and it wasn’t a very big earthquake so nothing moved or fell over, but still it was an earthquake. Immediately I got online to look it up. There is a website in New Zealand that lists all of the earthquakes that have happened in the past thirty days and gives the details on when, where and how strong it is. This earthquake happened a little over 100 kilometers west of Queenstown, out in the fiordlands and registered a 5.1. That sounds pretty big to me, but what do I know; this was my first earthquake.

Just so you know, I don’t mean to make light of these natural disasters. So many of them do cause serious death and destruction and with the Haiti earthquake disaster so present in our minds this may seem incredibly cold hearted, but please know that I do not mean it in that way at all. What happened in Haiti is truly heartbreaking and I cant even bare to watch the coverage of it on the news anymore. My heart really goes out to those people.

In most states in the US, you can get take the written test to get your permit to drive and 15 and can start driving as long as there is an adult in the car to supervise. Obviously different states have different restrictions on when and where you can drive at 15 and how long you have to hold the permit before you can get your license, but overall, it is a general permit to drive. Now maybe some of you know more about this process and maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t remember any restriction on what you could drive; automatic, manual, car, truck or whatever, as long as there was an adult in the car you could drive it. Then at 16 you can head on into the local DMV and take the practical driving test and as long as you pass you can drive anything you want (well maybe not a big 18-wheeler but you get what I’m saying).

Apparently, it is different in every other country. When you take your driving test in New Zealand, if you take the test in an automatic car, your license is restricted to driving only automatics. If you take the test in a manual, however, your license is unrestricted and you can drive either an automatic or a manual. But here is where it gets scary. If you have a driver’s license from the US, where we drive on the right hand side of the road and do not have to know how to drive a manual to get a full driver’s license, you can fill out a form and pay the $40 fee and get a full New Zealand driver’s license. Now, I don’t know about you, but I can barely drive a manual and even the idea of driving a manual on the left hand side of the road meaning that I would have to shift with my left hand terrifies me. And yet, my license would allow me to do just that.

None of this should make any difference at all because I don’t have a car in Queenstown because it’s just not that necessary here. Almost everything that I could need or want is within a 20-minute walking distance (except for my job and the Wal-Mart like Warehouse store which are about an hour and a half walk away but that doesn’t really matter because I can always take the bus). Here is the kicker, though; I work for a camper can and car rental company. Who cares? That’s what I thought at least until I realized that occasionally I was going to have to drive these giant 6 person camper vans and cars. Ok, still not too bad, I mean I had a camper van for a while when I first got to New Zealand so I can drive on the left hand side of the road if I have to. I will inevitably hit the windshield wipers every time that I try to use the indicator/blinker but that probably wont cause to much damage in the over all scheme of things. The damage will come when they ask me to drive the manual camper vans or cars and they have and I have laughed at them. If they want to keep those nice shiny camper vans and cars nice and shiny, they really need to find someone else to drive them. Apparently, however, that will not be an option for long and I am going to have to learn to drive a manual, not just a manual car but a manual camper van 3.3 meters high and weighing well over 3000 pounds. That does not sound like a safe idea. I hope that their insurance is completely up to date.

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls let me take just one moment to tell you that I do not want this blog to be a diary of my day-to-day activities. The reason that I started this was to be able to share some of the adventures and experiences that come along with traveling and living abroad, specifically in the fairy tale location that is Queenstown, New Zealand. My hope is to bring you all along for the ride and to share with you the wonders that come along with living in such a fantastic place. I am a self-confessed day dreamer and have always loved to live vicariously through the people and characters that I’ve come across either in real life or in novels, but living here, I am no longer living through others but instead living a life of my own. Its terrifying to take that first step out of the front door and embark into a life in the unknown but it will always be worth it. Even if you don’t succeed in the way that you may have planned, the life lessons and experiences will be worth the struggle and even, what others may consider, a failure. So, every now and then step out of your comfort zone and enjoy what life has to offer. This concludes today’s unexpected inspirational moment (sorry I’m not sure where that came from); we now take you back to our regularly scheduled programming.

After weeks (two and a half weeks to be exact) of scouring (well at least looking when ever the local papers came out) the Queenstown job market, I have finally secured full-time employment with Tourism Holding Company, Ltd, New Zealand’s largest tourism company. Sounds glamorous, doesn’t it? Ah, well let me disabuse you of that romantic notion; I work for a camper van rental company at the Maui, Backpacker and Explore More desk in the airport. Not too bad, I mean it’s no corner office at the law firm but that was not exactly the reason that I came out here to begin with, though, if I’m honest, as the days dragged on and employment seemed still just out of my grasp I seriously began to consider selling myself to a local law firm as a legal clerk just to have some sort of job. But in the end it didn’t come to that. I really have no clue what this job is going to entail. What I do know is that this job is about 8 or 9km from my house so I think that I am going to have to break down and buy a bike. Could be fun though, right? It will be good exercise if nothing else unless I get lazy and start taking the bus, although I think that my cheapness will always win out over my laziness and I will end up walking rather than paying the $5 or $6 each way for the bus. What I have been told, however, is that as a front line employee (one who deals with the tourists face to face and Queenstown is, first and foremost, a tourist town) I will be able to do many of the activities here in Queenstown for free because they want me to be able to tell the tourists how fabulous the activities really are. Oh and they are not wrong; I can be bought like that. I will tell everyone who walks up to my counter that the bungy was the most amazing experience of my life if they will let me jump for free rather than pay the insane $250 or whatever it is to actually go out there and jump. So, that’s where it all stands today, a job and possible free fun. Does it get any better than that? I mean, who really wants a corner office and a six-figure paycheck and health insurance anyway? Not me, I want to throw myself off of high places and be scared out of my mind for free! Though if someone wanted to pay me a six-figure salary I would not turn it down. I’m not crazy despite what some of you may think.

New Zealand is a paradox balancing precariously between the 1950’s and the modern era. All around are signs of modernity from new flash cars and plasma screen televisions to jet boat rides and heliskiing. There are certainly none of the social stigmas of the 1950’s with women keeping their place in the home while the men go out to work a la the Cleavers in Leave it to Beaver. Women’s top priority in life is not to be married straight out of school but rather to see the world or at least to spend the winter skiing the mountains in the area or hanging out by the lake. Gone are the poodle skirts and leather jackets replaced long ago by tank tops and Northface jackets.

So why, with all of the surroundings of modern people living modern lives, do I often get the sense of camaraderie with my grandmother? Perhaps it’s the fact that home life here with its boring daily chores seems more akin to what our grandparents did than what I am used to back home. My house has a dishwasher, its true, but no one ever uses it because it costs too much to run it and we don’t have enough dishes to wait until it fills up to start it. So, we all do our dishes by hand. Seriously, did you know that you could actually do dishes by hand and that they would still get clean enough to use? Now, I will admit that I have pre-washed some of my dishes before I put them into the dishwasher back home but I don’t think that I have ever not put the dishes in the dishwasher and I certainly wasn’t worried about the cost of the electricity or water to run it because that was just what had to be done. Dishes had to be washed so we ran the dishwasher. But it’s not just the hand washing of dishes that seems a bit antiquated. No one has a clothes dryer; instead line drying everything. Again, I have line-dried clothes before. In fact just last year I had a clothes line installed in my back yard so that I could do just that, but it wasn’t because I didn’t have a dryer, it was for some hippy notion that I was helping the planet by not using the power to dry my clothes when it was sunny outside (and because they smell so nice air dried and call me weird by I like the crispy feeling that the fabrics have when they come off the line). If it rained or if I was just too lazy to hang them, they went into the dryer without a second thought. That is not an option here. You actually have to plan your washing ahead of time because of the time that it takes for things to dry. Need to wash sheets or towels and only have one set? Well you better get those washed and hung out first thing in the morning or they wont be dry by the time you need them to go to bed and heaven forbid it start raining. These are just things that no one really takes into much consideration back home, or at least I didn’t.

Lest you get the wrong impression, there are good things that come along with this such as a real sense of community and friendship that is often times lacking back in the States. People rarely sit alone at home and watch TV instead opting to sit outside on someone’s balcony or patio and have a drink and chat. On the rare occasion that you do sit around and watch TV, it is almost always with someone else and more time is spent talking over the TV than actually watching what is going on, unless of course its American idol that’s on. In that case, silence reigns supreme so that everyone can revel in the undoubtedly horrendous voices and freaky dancing that comes with the audition rounds. Once the real competition begins, however, it will lose much of its appeal and the conversations will recommence.

Whether this lifestyle is better or worse is not the point. The point is that things are different here and its those differences that make traveling and living abroad such a rush and worth any of the hassles that come along with hand washing dishes and line drying clothes.

Having watched them through the bedroom window for most of the day yesterday, I must say that there is something completely unnatural about the whole idea of paragliding. The participant straps himself to the jumpmaster who is wearing a parachute that is opened up behind him and they run for a few meters across an open area on the top of the hill and then lift their collective feet and off they go. It’s not exactly as if they are jumping off the side of the mountain, which must make it less scary initially, but their feet just slowly get higher and higher off the grass until the next thing anyone is aware of they are floating 1000 meters above Queenstown. Calling it a fall would be too simple as they spend the first minute or so actually going higher than the mountain off of which they have just come. The red, white and yellow parachutes fill the sky and come down tumbling and twirling in a variety of different fashions. Occasionally you can hear one of the passengers scream as they start to come in quickly to the rugby pitch next to the primary school where they land. The whole thing just seems insane.

Now some of you might say, but Steph you jumped out of a perfectly good airplane in September so who are you to talk. To that, I have several answers. First of all, I jumped from 15,000ft not 700 meters and while that sound even more insane to some, think of it like this. The higher that you start your jump, the more time that you have to deal with any problems or situations that might arise during the fall. Second, on a skydive there are up to three parachutes attached to you when you fall, the main chute, a backup chute and another chute that opens at a pre-set altitude if the other chutes have failed. Paragliders just have the one and I don’t know about you but I think that three chutes are better than one. Finally, there is the whole safety record thing to consider. The skydive company that I jumped with has a 100% safety record. Their jumpmasters have had to make over 4,000 solo jumps before they are allowed to take participants. Even their camera guys have to have made several hundred jumps and all they do is take the pictures of the participants. I take comfort in all of that experience. What I don’t take comfort in, are all of the horror stories that I have heard about the paragliders and hangliders in this area. Rest assured that these stories are very likely completely trumped up and more likely than not being retold from person to person as first hand accounts of something that they only heard through the grapevine to begin with, but here it goes with the preface for both being allegedly (I didn’t go to law school for nothing. So I will pass on any possibility of getting in trouble for libel or slander thank you). As for the hangliders, rumor has it that last July, the bar that they hold onto broke mid-flight and the hangliding instructor and the participant both died. Uh scary! The paragliding rumor is that last year, one of the jumpmaters misjudged his landing and he and his participant ended up getting caught in the power line next to the rugby pitch where they were supposed to land. Again, scary! Now, to be fair, I have no idea if either of these stories are true but rumors often have at least some basis in reality, so you be the judge.

However, if I am completely honest, I would not turn down an opportunity to paraglide if it was put in front of me. What I am saying is that given the fact that paragliding and skydiving are about the same price, I am not rushing over to take the gondola up to paraglide when I could go skydiving again instead.

Being sick is never fun no matter where you are. As a kid, when you would get sick it usually meant a day off from school (the best thing ever!), someone taking care of your every need and whim (thanks mom and dad) and watching a bunch of TV or movies. All in all it wasn’t a bad way to spend the day. Then, you get older and move away from home and the process of getting sick changes from yay no school to can I actually afford to miss this day of classes without falling behind or this day of work without getting fired. Mom and dad are not always near by to baby you and lets just be honest, no one will baby you when you are sick quite like mom and dad. But, on the bright side, you still get a day to spend inside watching TV or movies or reading a book and generally just relaxing.

Here is when it really sucks to get sick. Imagine that you live in paradise and that right now the sun is shining and there are clear blue skies and a nice gentle breeze is blowing just enough to keep it from being too warm. From your bedroom window, you can see the paragliders taking off from the hill above and you can hear the sky dive planes in the distance. Just another perfect day in paradise, but no no no you will not be able to go out and enjoy paradise today. Why not? You aren’t working; you don’t have to go to school. Today is just another day you should be spending outside enjoying the warmth of the sun down by the lake and listening to someone play the guitar.

So why am I not out there? I’m sick. Stuck in the house for more than 24 hours now just watching the beautiful day pass by through the window. There is no need for details here, lets just say that it’s the kind of stomach issue that Bear Grylls fears most in the wild and it means that I am chained to the house. Normally, I would love a day off to watch movies or TV but here its just depressing because there are so many other things that I would rather be doing before I eventually start working and don’t have all day every day to just sit and enjoy the majesty of this place. And, with only three channels, it’s not like there is a plethora of choices of bad daytime TV to choose from. I may have to brave a trip out to the movie store in a little while or I might just go insane. The best strategy may be to shut the curtains so I cant see how nice it is outside and watch a series of funny movies, although laughing may not be the best idea right now. Sorry, too much information. Where are mom and dad when you need them? Its not like I am half way across the world or anything.

Queenstown is a fantastic small town with fantastic small shops and restaurants, but if you need to do a big shop the only choice is to leave town. The next town over is called Frankton and to be honest there is not really a great dividing point between the two. Queenstown airport is located in Frankton, which can be confusing when you apply for a job in Queenstown and they send you to the Queenstown airport in Frankton, but that’s another story. All of the big chain stores are over in Frankton and the Remarkables Park Shopping Center, which sits almost directly at the base of the Remarkables mountain range. There are no Walmarts in New Zealand; instead they have a similar store called the Warehouse. It’s not quite a cheap as Walmart but they probably treat the employees better, so I guess that’s the trade off. There is also a large discount grocery store out there called New World. Well unless you are just on a quick vacation to Queenstown, you will probably, at least at some point, need to make a run out to the Remakables Park for something.

Getting there is the biggest issue because most people living in Queenstown do not have a car. There is no real need for one in town because everything is within comfortable walking distance. There is a lovely walking path along the lake that connects the two towns. It is quite a walk though at just under 10 kilometers each way and if you are going for a big shop, its unreasonable to think that you will be able to carry all of the stuff back that far. Another option is to take the connect-a-bus which run every 25 minutes or so and costs $6 each way. Not a bad option because it makes it easier to get you and your stuff back and forth but if you are going out to the Remarkables Park because its cheaper and then you add the $12 it costs to get you out there and back it very much reduces your savings. The other option is to hitchhike. Queenstown is a very hitchhiker friendly town, in fact, that is some peoples sole source of transportation.

I have always wanted to try to hitchhike but have always chickened out at the last minute. My friend Steph and I needed to go out to Remarkables Park this morning to go to the Warehouse and the DMV (I am going to get a Kiwi drivers license!). Since neither of use had ever hitched before and we weren’t in any hurry, we decided that we would give it a try. We started walking up to the road that leads out of Queenstown toward Frankton, thinking that we should at least be on the right street before sticking out thumbs out. Did you know that you really do have to stick your thumb out? It is a little bit embarrassing and one of us would stick a thumb out and then start laughing and put it back down before the cars even got to where we were. Finally, we managed to hold our thumbs out as we kept walking a little further. Three cars passed us without stopping, a girl alone in her car (fair enough), a lady with an elderly lady in the front seat (don’t blame them) and a guy is his work truck (of course you cant pick up hitchhikers while your working). Then, the next car that drove past was a middle-aged guy in a red truck and he actually stopped! We ran up to the window and asked if he was going toward Frankton, which he was. So we hopped in, me in the front seat and the other Steph in the backseat.

There was absolute silence as we drove along. It was so awkward that I felt like I had to say something so this is my re-enactment of the conversation. Me: “So, you live in Queenstown?” Guy: “Yes.” Me: “Have you been here long?” Guy: “10 years.” Me: “Where are you from originally?” Guy: “Croatia, but I’m sure you’ve never heard of that.” Me: “Well, actually I was an international politics major at university and we had several classes where we discussed Croatia and its part in the break up of the former Yugoslavia in the late 80’s and early 90’s.” Stunned look comes across mans face. Guy: “Girls don’t usually study politics. It’s usually all about the Iphone and their pretty dresses. So much for women’s liberation. All that fuss so that they can be even dumber than before.” Me: “uh huh.” Guy: “just because you studied doesn’t mean that you actually know anything. There is a difference between knowledge and studying.” Me: “Oh I completely agree that there is a difference between knowledge and wisdom.” Guy: “blah blah blah girls are stupid blah blah blah where are you two going in Frankton?” Me: “The Warehouse in Remarkables Park. So what is it that you do?” Guy: “I’m a professional hunter. I just got back last night from the US where I was at a Sierra Club meeting. You see that mountain over there? I own that mountain.” Poorly disguised look of disbelief on my face that this man actually owned the Remarkables Mountain Range. Guy: “Well its my western border. I have a ranch over there on the other side where I take hunting groups.” By this time he had pulled into the shopping center and right to the front door of the Warehouse to drop us off. Me: “Well, thanks for the lift. This is the first time we have ever hitched and you were so nice so thanks.” Guy: “If you had been a couple of bimbos I would have dropped you off back there on the main road but since you weren’t I decided to bring you all the way here.” Me: “Well thanks again.”

Practically door-to-door service. Who would have guessed it? Now I’m sure that it will never work that well again but what a great first hitchhiking experience. Other than that whole girls are stupid thing it was fantastic.

I love my little house, I really do but there is one issue that I am having here that is about to drive me absolutely insane. One of the things that is included in the price of my rent is wifi internet. Very nice because the cost of internet is astronomical if you are trying to do it on your own. You really only have two options if the landlord is not providing the internet. Option one: purchase wifi access from the city at $50.00 per month which may not sound that bad to those of you purchasing internet through Comcast back in the states but unlike Comcast, this internet is not fast and it is not unlimited. That $50.00 per month only allows you 5gb of internet access (not too bad unless you are going to download anything at all) and only one computer can be logged into that account at a time, meaning that you cant even split the cost with someone else. Option two: use an internet café at $1.00 per 15 minutes. The benefit of this is that the access is unlimited (download until your hearts content) but the drawback is that you actually have to go and sit in the internet café and those 15-minute increments go by way faster than you think that they will. In general, the internet access in New Zealand is incredibly slow in comparison with cable internet in the States, but the service is no shoddier than Comcast (can you tell that Comcast and I are no great friends?).

Despite the speed, having internet provided by the landlord is a bonus… until, that is, you realize that it only allows for two computers to be online in the house at the same time. Well, there are five people and four computers in this house and we have one lovely American roommate who never leaves the house and leaves her computer on all the time so that really only one other person can be on at a time. Well, internet is not why you come to visit New Zealand but sometimes, just sometimes, you really need to just quickly check your email. Perhaps, like today, someone has a job interview and needs to write down the name of the interviewer before leaving the house so that she doesn’t look like a fool when she shows up and doesn’t remember who it is she is supposed to be asking for. That sounds way more dramatic than it actually was and I did finally get to check the name before I left the house, but still how hard is it to log off the internet when you aren’t actually using it? Oh well, I guess I should just feel bad for her that she has not been able to get out and enjoy this area like she should have. Sorry for the rant.

Having no amusing anecdotes to share about Queenstown today, I have decided that we should talk a little bit about New Zealand as a whole. It is comprised of two main islands, the north and the south, which together are only slightly larger than the UK. Just as a comparison, New Zealand has a total land area of 103,483 square miles and a population of approximately 4,352,672 while Alabama has a total land area of 51,705 square miles and a population of approximately 4,661,900. And you thought that much of Alabama was rural… try having almost the same number of people but in twice the space. Or, think about this. The South Island alone has a land area of 58,384 square miles and a population of only 1,027,500, that’s more than 150,000 less than the Birmingham metro area alone. You want peace and quiet in this place? No problem.

Auckland is the country’s largest city with almost 1.4 million residents, more than the entire population of the South Island. It is also the city that everyone else in New Zealand loves to hate but can’t seem to express why. I think that it must be the difference in pace and lifestyle in Auckland compared to the rest of the country. Auckland is like just about any other major city in the world, where the focus tends to be big business. No one moves to Auckland to enjoy their retirement years, if you know what I mean. Besides that, it is just kind of a boring place to be. My one suggestion would be the volcano simulation room at the Auckland museum. I wont spoil it for you by trying to elaborate but just know that at one point the whole room starts to shake and the older lady sitting next to me on the couch during it, scout’s honor, started to scream. It took every ounce of my being not to start laughing out loud. But seriously, other than that, skip Auckland.

Wellington is both the political and entertainment capital of New Zealand, affectionately known as Wellywood to those in the New Zealand film industry. We met a guy in a café there who works for Weta Digital, the people behind the Lord of the Rings, the Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian and most recently Avatar. He was explaining to us that his job at Weta Digital was to make the fluffy white clouds in the backgrounds. Not any other shape of cloud that you might see in the films, he was quick to point out, just the fluffy ones. What I want to know is how you get into that line of work. Do you go to digital animation school and specialize in fluffy clouds or do you have to work your way up to that position? Weta had apparently recruited him from England for his cloud fluffing skills. Everyone is good at something, I suppose.

Those are the two largest cities in the North Island and as far as this discussion goes today. I know that you are on the edge of your seats to learn more about Aotearoa, the Maori name for New Zealand roughly translated as the land of the long white cloud (I wonder if that guy from Weta knows about that. Maybe someday he will get promoted from the fluffy clouds to the long white ones) but you will just have to tune in some other time… or check out Wikipedia.