St. Patrick's Day

3/17: My favorite holiday. Regardless of your race, religion, or ethnicity, the cliche remains true: EVERYONE is Irish on St. Patty's Day. There was a collective decision to stay in Christchurch for what promised to be a great day. Baily's provided the perfect place for us to celebrate leprechauns, Guiness and Ireland's recent win over the Brits in rugby. Luckily, Mother Nature cooperated by giving us our best weather of the entire NZ stretch. It was about 80 F with a slight breeze.

They were giving out complementary temporary tattoos. Like a bunch of herded cattle, we all "had" to get it and represent our true colors. The bad part- it took about a week to get the damn thing off!

Group shot, early in the day before Jay passed out.

Why Matt was playing the air guitar? Anyone's guess.

Land of Hobbits Pt. II

3/15: We finished our Edoras experience quite early in the day. What to do? On the way back up to Christchurch we took a small detour to a fishing village known as Akaroa. This serene town represents the first point of European colonization in New Zealand. It was founded by the French and still retains that typical "Parisian" charm. One can still see names such as Rue Jolie, Richelieu and La Rochelle.

This was basically the view from our restaurant. After switching to a more favorable seat, dinner became extremely enjoyable. I kicked back with a massive assortment of seafood and wine...not a bad life.

Land of Hobbits Pt. I

3/15: New Zealand presented us with the opportunity to venture out and see one of the most pivotal backdrops in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Known as Edoras, this hilly enclave was the capital city of Rohan. This sprawling metropolis provided great numbers of horsemen to the allied hobbits, elfs, men and dwarfs in The Two Towers. Now that I sound like a complete tool, let me get to the good stuff.

In something called "reality" this hill is known as Mt. Sunday. Stephanie, Jay, Margie and I decided to rent a 4 X4 SUV and make the 2 hour trek south of Christchurch. Thanks to Margie's LOTR prowess and helpful guide book, we negotiated our way through 20km of unpaved road to this beautiful spot. We were equally excited to learn that the famed "Helm's Deep" (or main battle of the 2nd movie) lay directly behind Edoras.

We chose a particular shoulder in order to get out and take some pics. Unfortunately, we had to gingerly make our way around piles of cow poop. It was a virtual minefield!

There were dozens upon dozens of roaming cows- often playing chicken with us along the roadside!

Well, we didn't get a 4 X 4 for nothing! The problem with the legit LOTR tour lay in the fact that the guides actually dressed the tourists up in hobbit tights and elf cloaks. Um, I don't think so.

After removing the gate, Jay made his best efforts to get us up to Mt. Sunday. While we were able to ford some pretty impressive rivers, certain tributaries of the Rangitata were impassable. Getting stuck with no one within 40 miles wasn't prudent. About face.


The distant gorge in between the mountain ranges was the filming site for the battle of Helm's Deep. Obviously, CGI makes it look completely different, but it remains impressive nonetheless.

Wine Tasting, anyone?

3/10: What a rough life we lead over here in New Zealand. Following our previous day at Hanmer Springs (thermal hot springs, pools, and jacuzzis) we decided to head further north into the Marlborough Wine Country. Home to dozen of vineyards surrounded by lush countryside, this part of the southern island feels a bit "Napa-esque."

We stayed in Picton (gateway to the north island) and were picked up by Nigel and his plentiful bikes. The deal was simple- he picked us up, drove us to the vineyards, dropped us off, supplied us with bikes, and guaranteed to pick us up from wherever we left off. The idea was simple- ride around on bikes, tour vineyards, drink and enjoy the sun.


Doing my best interpretation of Lance Armstrong, we set out (albeit gingerly) onto the main road to begin our tour. I must admit, riding a bike after years of not doing so definitely takes both a physical and mental toll. Not that it's rocket science, but I had disturbing visions of turning into dastardly roadkill.



Need I say more? The first winery we came upon was the Georges Michel. As those close to me know, George Michael (yes, that one) is one of my favorite performers. In order to pay homage to his namesake, we stopped and did a full round of tasting. (The owner of the vineyard, Georges Michel, apparently gets mocked for his name quite frequently) I must say, out of the 10 wineries we toured throughout the day, this one was the finest. We enjoyed it so much that we later returned to purchase bottles...oh yes, and I a cooking apron with the logo.

Two HUGE fans of George Michael would never let this opportunity go without taking a picture. Stevie G (aka Thunder Down Under) and I took time out to pause, rather reflect, on our affinity for this vineyard and pop icon!

Georges Michel's vines...what I would envision the south of France to look like.


After a long day of sun-drenched wine tasting and peaceful cycling, we made it through the toughest stage to the final wineries. We first stopped at Cloudy Bay before they closed. Luckily, the women were very accommodating and agreed to serve us.

Across the street was Alan Scott. While we went there in search of lunch, the kitchen was closed. After yet another tasting we called Nigel to haul us back to our hotel. What a rough day...

Mt. Cook

3/5: On the endless drive back from Te Anau we had one of the luckiest days ever. Other than getting a speeding ticket in the middle of nowhere, the day shaped up beautifully. The Mt. Cook lookout over Lake Pukaki (as seen above) is usually shrouded in clouds- a clip at around 90% of the time. However, Mother Nature cooperated with us and blessed us with one of the most sunny days thus far. Standing at 13,ooo feet tall, Mt. Cook is the largest mountain in Australasia (Australia/NZ combined). The views were unlike anything I had ever seen...

Daredevil in the making...took this shot for scale.
Yet another pic of the happy couple!
Random lookout spot...

Church of the Good Shepherd overlooking Lake Tekapo. Built in honor of the MacKenzie Country pioneers, this building was erected to pay homage to the first European settlers to trek into the interior. While the church wasn't itself spectacular, the views were unreal.

Milford Sound

3/4: After driving about 1000 miles south of Queenstown (or so it felt) we made it to the Fiords of Milford Sound. Before I actually write this blog entry I must confess that we weren't in the best state of mind. The night before we stayed in the "swinger" capital known as Te Anau. (This, of course, I learned via word of mouth as opposed to firsthand knowledge) We managed to pack 8 people in the "family suite" at the Fiordland Hotel. Needless to say, defining the room as a "suite" requires some artistic interpretation. After a 2 hour drive further south, alas we reached the sound.

We were able to get on one of the smaller boats- essentially accommodating 40 people as opposed to 400. After we set out from the marina a pack of dolphins surprised us by riding alongside the boat for about 10 minutes. They were amazing, seeming as if they were "playing to the crowd." This actually came close to topping Steph's experience with Carla the Koala in Sydney!
They brought us perilously close to a 500 foot waterfall. After wiping down my lens and drying off my face, I was able to take a decent shot. This was definitely one of the most scenic portions of the adventure.

Elliot, Jay, Stevie G (Thunder down Under) and Josh- what a ragged bunch of mountaineers we are!!! This shot was taken after some samples of local beer. In essence, we had to make the experience a bit more EXTREME.

After being to the Sognefjord in Norway, I have to admit that Milford Sound paled in comparison. The passes in Norway are much more narrow and the rock face reaches much greater heights. If I were asked whether the drive to Milford was worth it, the simple answer would be: NO. Basically, it is about 500 miles south of Christchurch. Keep in mind that we are not talking about I-95- what we are essentially dealing with are windy mountain roads full of sheep and cows. To call it a long drive, well, that doesn't begin to describe it.

Queenstown Continued

2/3: We couldn't come to the "birthplace of bungy" and "adventure capital of the world" without getting rather EXTREME. Steph and the rest of our group decided to go Skydiving. I, on the other hand, cannot handle heights too well. Therefore, I took the opportunity to do something I have always wanted to: Jet Boating.



Wow, what a rush. Picture racing down narrow canyons in untouched glacial rivers going 70mph. My driver was cutting turns on a dime and then doing 360 degree turns in the midst of fallen rock zones and jagged cliffs.

The boat was going so fast that it went through about 3 gallons of octane PER MINUTE. While it wasn't quite skydiving, it was fine just by me!

Queenstown

2/1: We stumbled into Queenstown late Thursday night after a hilarious 7 hour drive through the pitch-black NZ hinterland. Passing places like Lake Tekapoe, Lake Pukaki and Twizel- insomnia and hysteria started creeping in. To put it shortly, we were all in need of a serious rest.




2/2: In the morning we all awoke to a town full of life, mountains, restaurants, lakes and a river. We were all taken aback by the stunning views from our very own apartment balcony! The best part- we spotted a Starbucks downtown. Us Americans are just so easy to please.


Knowing the drive from Queenstown to Glenorchy was spectacular, we decided to tackle it ourselves. The ride itself, stretching about 30 miles, winded around the lake while scaling up rolling hills and lush forests.




At one point in particular we were able to stretch our legs by walking onto the shallows of the lake. While not Christ walking on water, I came rather close. This way, by far, some of the most pristine water I have ever seen. It almost seemed as if it was paralyzed in time...

Ah! Who ever thought one could go off-roading with 8 people in a minivan? Well, we did it. Josh led us masterfully over riverbeds, dirt roads and horse trails. Finally we came to a stream enclosure which was tucked in the enveloping mountain ranges. Unfortunately, the flies were biting and we could no longer endure the trauma!

EXTREME New Zealand!

2/17: Welcome to New Zealand, the land of hobbits, kiwis, beautiful landscapes, barefoot people, and drunken hooligans! We arrived in Christchurch for the second half of our program on 2/17. Being that it was Stephanie's 30th birthday on the 24th, we decided to spend our first ten days in NZ in the city.

I would have to start out by saying that Christchurch is extremely "Belfastesque." It has that small city feel (appx. 400,000) accompanied by an underlying seedy element comprised of prostitution and violence. While I keep hearing there is virtually "no violence" in NZ, I would say that one never feels safe walking down Manchester Street at night (Think red-light district with the full-on "magic pill" and "illicit massage" stores). There is an undeniable feeling of bitterness or frustration in the air.

As I understand it, NZ is considered by many Australians as a rough and rugged land full of backwater people. Equivalent to our own version of "West Virginia," people in this nation have somewhat of a reputation as being gruff and a bit uncivilized. (This I can attest to by the fact that people, in the middle of an urban environment, have no qualms about walking around COMPLETELY BAREFOOT! I would say that the sneaker/barefoot scale is probably split 50/50 down-the-middle.)
2/26: Pushing aside the narrow-mindedness, we decided to explore the fabled NZ countryside. What better way to do it than get into the mix immediately? The Rangitata River is located about 2 hours SW of Christchurch...whitewater rafting beckoned us. This picture above is our rafting group accompanied by our partially-insane guide named Ben. (Steph and I are 2nd and 3rd from the left respectively). Oh yes, there were two Swedish girls included in "Team America" as well...although they couldn't paddle for their lives!

This one is simply to show scale. We were in a river valley surrounded by huge mountains and splendid gorges. Sun and temps around 80 F accompanied us along our embarkation.

The water itself was cold but pleasant, being so clean that people drink straight from its source. (Imagine people drinking out of the Hudson?!?) As I understand it, it's also common to see trout and salmon swimming throughout the tributaries.

Ugh, the spill. Yes, I was the FIRST and ONLY one to go flying out of the raft! Ben purposely sent out down a ravine backwards with me taking the full-on brunt of the impact. We were at this point going down a Grade 3 torrent, which is kind of like the Joe Lieberman of rapids...it can't decide which side of the aisle (easy-difficult) it wants to be on!


With my strength and pride gone, I had given up. One gets extremely fatigued when trying to pull up their 200 pound frame in 50 mph waters. Obviously, I eventually prevailed (as I am here to tell the story) and "gracefully" dragged my body onto the rafting apparatus (actually, I guess at that point I more resembled a limp corpse...water-logged doesn't even begin to describe how I felt).

Enter Grade 5- the next to toughest type of rapid. This shot of us was taken as we were recklessly plunging into rocks at over 60 mph. (I am fourth from left in the red helmet) Kamikaze, yes. Smart, no. What a way to meet my untimely demise!

Our Last Hurrah: Adios Melbourne!

2/16: Ah, this was the one I was dreading. After seven fun-filled and life-altering weeks in Melbourne, it was time to say goodbye. I must say, with the exception of my family and friends, I did not miss NY at all. This city could easily be "home."

After every trip (plane, car, etc) the return to Melbourne felt as if we were coming back to "our" city. There was that distinct feeling that one gets when they return to their town from a long trip: a great sense of normalcy, comfort and belonging.

As would be expected, we went out in style. Returning once again to the Long Room, we made sure to make the most out of our final night. Tony joined Josh, Jen, Steph and I to wish us a bon voyage.

It was a memorable night- characterized by a mixture of happiness with an underlying sense of sadness. In the end, I am sure to return some day soon. Steph and I have already discussed later trips back to our adopted home. See you later, Conder!

Homecookin'

2/13: After our return from the wilderness of Tasmania we had a revelation: one week left in Melbourne! (yikes) In turn, Tony decided to treat us to some of his masterful Greek culinary skills. After taking us out to restaurants, he thought it would be a more appropriate atmosphere to have us by his house. We were in for some treat...

Our first course consisted of grilled and marinated pita chips accompanied by an assortment of dips including tzatziki, eggplant and humus. Following that we were greeted by a massive salad with all the fixins' one would ever need. (Oh yes, and we cannot forget the saganaki, or fried Greek cheese) Last, but certainly not least, we had our main course. Tony prepared a sumtuous leg of lamb along with marinated vegetables in a bernaisse sauce. To top it off we were given huge bowls of fresh fruit along with a homemade yogurt topping. I do not know, but let me state now that the ladies who marry into the Kathreptis family have it good- all males in my family can cook! (and damn well)

Freycinet Peninsula, Tasmania

2/11: Upon our departure from Coles Bay we stumbled upon a "Roo" literally in the middle of the road! Our friend (who shall remain nameless) was apparently a ham of sorts, sitting idly by as we took dozens of pictures. Either way, it was a nice beginning to our trek towards the fabled "Wineglass Bay."

After a much more arduous hike than expected, we finally arrived at the Wineglass Bay lookout. It was beautiful, but failed to live up to expectations. Prior to our visit to Tasmania we kept hearing that this spot was "a must." Well, it was pretty...but to call it anything more would be a stretch.

We walked the steep and never-ending path from the lookout down to the beach of Wineglass. After the festivities at Cradle Mountain and Maria Island, I think it is safe to say we were all spent. Three nights in a camper van, headaches, and upset stomachs prevailed. Somehow Steph and I managed to put conjure up a smile for the pic. (I think part of our frustration was realizing that we had to wake up a 4am the next morning for our flight- and then go straight to class!)