Ya Bloody Wanka'!

This was the resounding theme of our 2 days spent in the southern part of the North Island, Thurs-Friday nights. I am still trying to figure out what happened but am finally over it, lessons learned I suppose.

On Wednesday, after departing the land of the Gannet birds, we drove to Palmerson North a bustling city that maintains Massey University, the largest college in the country. We arrived in time to find our camp ground and to set camp; it was a nice place on a river, just fine indeed. We were anxious to email and keep in touch with the world back home so we ventured into the center of town and found an internet cafe. It was a strange sort of place to begin with, upon initial inspection the front room was entirely empty. To get to a station, one had to continue about 30 paces to the rear of the place, where computer stations were packed in like 8-5ers in an office building. I grabbed a spot and got to work (this is my new job now, keeping our travel updates you know) emailing and touching base with the world. I finally decided to check into our Skype account to see if I could call home or chat with the parents or a friend or something, they had the headsets and microphones afterall! The process was easy and it was going to cost me $0.06/minute to dial any number in the US. I tried Pasadena first, as I knew my Dad was eager to get the Skype thing going, and it was ringing! Nice. Unfortunately, it was nearly 12midnight back in Cali and the answering machine picked up. I started to leave a msg and thought I was until Skype popped up a window wondering if I was talking, because they were not registering any sound. The call disconnected. Damn! I called the desk kid over to assist and we thought it was fixed, to no avail, however as I next called Encinitas and to my excitement Pop Harvey answered! "Hello I said, its Andy!" He couldn't hear me. Crap! Disconnected. So again I motioned for assitance and was then taken to another computer and then another while they were realizing a number of their mics were not working. Finally the owner of the place I think, a stinky bugger at that, got fed up with me the bloody American and started jabbering in his native tongue, of which I was unable to recognize (Korean perhaps?). "I just want to talk on Skype, that is all", I tried to convey. Not sure what was lost in translation but he raised his arm to the door and told me "out!". Wha wha?! I was getting kicked out? Just like Andy Bergdahl to get booted eh? A thousand miles from nowhere, but my reputation had caught up with me - I wasn't even wearing my hoodie (inside joke). In disbelief, I looked at Stace shockingly and walked out as she was finishing up. I asked, "so I don't need to pay? really?" as the guy was hurrying me out. To say the least I was not with my tail between my legs and quite blown away, but, hey, I didn't have to pay my $6.80 NZ so fine, I left. Much to my amazement the guy was following me out the vacant front room, berating me in an indeciferable language. Out front on the side walk he gained momentum with his song and repeated something over and over and over, all the while. I had to smile because I couldn't understand a thing, but he sure was enjoying himself. He even spit on the ground in front of me. WOW! I was now half in shock and half amused. I walked away with the tirade flowing over my shoulders. Stacy finally emerged after what seemed like 15 minutes and we left in disbelief. As I was exiting the car at the camp, I forgot I had plugged in our camera battery charger next to my computer station. Oh great, I've been blackballed and we need to go back and get the thing. Lucky for me I have a gem of a wife and she popped back in and took off allthewhile smiling as I started to prep my famous chicken fried couscous with veggies, almonds, and left over couscous (well, it turned out good, geez). As Stact was gone my mind wandered and I thought, "Shit, what happens if Stacy doesn't come back?" It is a worry I will get over with time, but I do worry about these sorts of things when it comes to her out on her own in foreign lands. She pulled in much quicker than I thought and was laughing, much the way I was standing with the stinky bugger as he spit and ranted at me; half amuzed and half scared. "Do I have a story for you!" she exclaimed. Uh oh, I thought... Apparently, she went in to retrieve the device near my first station and upon passing my the bloke of an owner, was asked, "hey, that not yours. What is that?" Stacy explained it was her wonderfully handsome husband's and she needed to get it (well, maybe not exactly like that). The guy said, "Hey, that guy, he no pay, he no pay! Let me see that!" Stacy wass feeling a bit concerned now as he was coming around the desk to possibly take it from her, she had no idea She did hte right thing, turnrd and did her best roadrunner impression out of the joint, again the freaky dude followed. What is this guy's deal with following people?! She ran to the car and after trying the wrong side she got into the correct driver's seat and hit reverse. She was not in fear for her life, mind you but half wondering if she should be. The guyswas right there in her vacated parking spot wagging wis finger disapprovingly as she drove to safety. WHAT the hell? I said to her as the couscous was frying up, unbelieveable.

We laughed for the rest of that night, not knowing what we had instore about 23 hours into our future...

We made our way on Friday into Upper Hutt after we got an oil change on the Mazder (just to be safe ya know?!) and found a nice place to call home for the evening Harcourt's Holiday Park. It was a rural spot against some hills and only a 40 minute drive to Wellington in the morning, where we were to board our ferry to the south island the next day at 1pm. All was dandy. We found a great trek up the flanking hills and a secret off-shoot that took us straight up the hill, under a canopy of trees and tropical brush that ran along a small creek. We even saw a small owl (the only species in New Zealand) on our descent, quite a gem of a walk for sure! We got back to camp before dark and got into our dinner routine of laying towels on the ground and setting up our burner and cooler (no tables at this place either!). We got our portable burner going and the pasta was looking promising. As night engulfed the day and our veggies were sizzlin' we heard what sounded like a lawn mower start up. No way. Its 8pm and dark, can't be, c'mon. Sure enough, it was. The guy was mowing the rocks in the same pasture we were in, just about 40M away. We were in disbelief. In between rocks screetching the blade to a hault and sending sparks each and every where, the thing sounded like a sick crusty machine - very nice for a calm relaxing meal, eh? I got up to see and sure enough he was doing concentric circles not so far away. All of a sudden, he must have hit a considerable rock as the blade sounded like it broke and he turned off the blasted vehicle. In the new silence, I was inspired to start clapping and Stacy joined in (remember, I started it not Stace). We thought, finally, some peace. As quickly as the thought escaped us I noticed headlights lighting up our camp; "You guys the ones clapping?" I heard from the other side of the tent. I shot up and met the guy. I did not answer directly but said it was nice that the clatter and painful event was over. We just wanted a peaceful night and dinner, just like the rest of his guests and it was nearly 8:45pm afterall. Apparently, this just lit his fuse because the things that flew from his foaming mouth was nothing to tell mom about thats for sure. We are disrepectful assh---s and he was sorry that he had to do the work and this and that. He was quite peeved. I apologozed that we felt the way we did, but it was real. He stormed away, saying something under his breath only to return 10 minutes later in a cloud of dust and disdain. "Wanker this and wanker that, you better leave now, here's your money back, if you do not, the police will be here. you are now TRESPASSING on my land. I have asked you to leave you wankers, leave!!" He continued to give me the cynical clapping and berating, and was not a happy man. I tried to reason with the guy, but to no avail. I felt bad of course. I should not have clapped, that I know all to well now. But, man, it was 9pm and we just wanted some peace. I told him I wasn't going to take the money and we were not going anywhere. He threated with the police again and stormed off, clapping all the way. I now was in a similar state to that of 23 hours previous, but a bit more perplexed and feeling bad. I gathered the $24 he threw on the ground near our tent and headed for the office to plead my case. The kid at the office listened and seemed concerned, but retorted with, "He's the ower and what he says goes, sorry." OK, I was now cooling down but still concerned and unsure of our next move. I turned to exit and there was another camper in the office. "Hey", I asked him, "did you hear any of that? I can't believe it." This guy gave me his best school yard lecture about New Zealand law, ownership, trespassing and "hope you enjoy the cell for the night" as he weaseled his way back out. "Wait" I said, "you came all the way up here just to lecture me? Thanks man." "We came her for peace and quite and YOU, sir are stressing us out!" he exclaimed. I was stressing him out? OK, time to go. I met Stacy back at the tent where the food was still cooking away (gotta love Stace for thinking it through!) and we began the walk of shame out of the camp. Where to? Maybe Wellington where we needed to be anyway, I don't know, crap. I was now tail between my legs and rather dumbfounded by the night's events and even more so that 2 nights in a row I had been kicked out of someplace. Stacy was her amazing self and talked to me about it, understanding our side but also giving some perspective of his as well. She talked me out of my funky state and we decided on Wellington as the pasta was still in the saucepans at Stacy's feet, cooling by the second. Turned out we found a hotel, the Duxton downtown, which appropriately enough had fire engines all around and a huge A/C leak pouring into the lobby as we inquired within - fitting I thought. We walked around town for a few hours (it was Friday night afterall) and finally checked into our first hotel. It was very nice. Hmmm...come to think of it, I need to corner Stacy to see if she had this planned all along...no way...hmmm?

Ya Bloody Wanka!