Because It's There

A Visit from the Eareharts

2009-06-13T14:16:00.014+12:00

Amy's parents dropped by in February for a two week visit. We spent a few days showing them around Wellington and catching up as it had been over 6 months since we had last seen them.

First stop: the botanical gardens and the playground.

Quinn tries the big slides for the first time.

Mr. Earehart tries the zipline for the first time.

Feeding the ducks.

Enjoying the rose garden, which bloomed like mad all summer long.

Near the rose garden is one of my favorite spots in the gardens; a greenhouse chock full of exotic plants. There's a section of carnivorous plants as well as a pool with several varieties of water lilly. Sounds a bit dull, but these aren't your everyday water lillies, and there are some neat fish in the pond. Here, Pap and Amelia check them out:

After a few days in Wellington, we boarded the ferry to head down South for a week's vacation. It's hard to get tired of the views from the ferry.

Granny checks out the scenery and tries to avoid being blown overboard by the wind.

Pap, cliffs.

We then headed down the east coast to a place called Kaikoura. This is an interesting spot because it's really close to a continental shelf. Currents bring tons of nutrients near the shore and the result is some spectacular marine life in the area. We headed there primarily to do some whale watching.

Granny and Pap enjoy some time on the beach with Quinn.

The whale watching trip was successful, and Amy shot this great pic (zoom in for the full effect):

My favorite wildlife photographer.

From Kaikoura, we headed through the Queen Charlotte Sound to the city of Nelson. The drive through the Sound is incredibly tortuous and we've ended up with puking kids on several occasions because of it. Hopefully they'll be able to appreciate the pictures one day...

Carol and Harold in front of the Queen Charlotte Sound

You can take pictures like this...

....all...

...day...

...long.

We had a great time in Nelson, though I neglected to take many pictures. After a few days there we headed back to Picton for another ferry ride home. It was really wonderful seeing our family after being away from home for so long.

A Brief Update

2009-06-09T14:09:00.003+12:00

Well, we made it. I've been saying that a lot lately. First was the long haul from NZ, then a few days of R&R at Amy's parent's house in WV to recover a bit. Next was a 5 hour road trip to Portsmouth to stay with our friends Sarah and Danny while we recovered some more. We moved to an apartment with my parents for a week while we searched for houses, and we've finally settled (at least for the moment) in yet another apartment while we continue our search for a home. I failed to mention that I had to make one road trip back to Charlottesville to euthanize Nelson (our Rhodesian Ridgeback) and another to move our furniture down here.

So, after almost a month we finally have a place to call our own. It hasn't been the easiest transition but everyone's holding up well and we're in good spirits. There have actually been a lot of fun times in the past month and we're getting to spend a lot of time with friends these days.

We're starting to get re-acclimated to life in the states, too. I remembered to tip at dinner tonight and I'm having fewer instances of turning on my windshield wipers when I go for my turn signal. And no, I haven't been driving on the wrong side of the road (though I probably would have gone the wrong way on our city's only roundabout if I hadn't seen someone else do it first).

More posts to follow in the near future. Thanks to everyone who helped us with the move!

Things I'll Miss About NZ

2009-05-15T20:01:00.007+12:00

Sunset from our living room.

It's funny how time flies. Almost a year ago, I was in Charlottesville, starting a blog when I should have been packing. Now I'm thinking about things that we'll miss when we leave NZ and writing about it when I should probably be packing.

Amy and I are excited about moving back for a few reasons. We'll get to see our friends and family, and we'll trade the cold, rainy winter for a summer at the beach. Hopefully the new job will work out, and I can quit worrying about the exchange rate when I'm paying my student loans.

I have to be honest, though; it will be hard to leave this place. Wellington is the best city we've ever lived in, and by a fair margin. That's saying a lot coming from Charlottesville. The people here are fantastic. We don't worry about much at all, and the quality of life is quite good. So, without further ado, here are the the things I'm really going to miss about this place, in no particular order:

1. The lingo. Sweet as, eh, bro? Push bike, lollies, gum boots, poku, wee bit, holliday, pram, diary, heaps, keen, brilliant, goss(ip), ripper, bach, mum, swimming togs, good on ya, trundel, flash.

2. The service. Un-freaking-believable. They don't tip here, but every time you go into any store you will be treated promptly and respectfully and people will go out of their way to make sure you're satisfied. Even in a fast-food joint.

3. Being awestruck by the beauty of my surroundings every single day.

This is one of several stunning views I see while driving to work. I'm lucky I'm still alive because I'm always staring out of the side window during my commute.

4. The good beers; Monteith's, Founder's, Three Boy's, and Mac's.

The back of the Mac's bottle. Worth zooming in to read.

5. The botanical gardens, which are superb. We need more gardens in the States. Oh, and you can walk through these gardens at night and not get freaked out.

6. My job, and the lifestyle that accompanies it. I actually got tired of taking vacations. Seriously. I worked hard but never felt overworked (I now realize that as Americans we have no concept of not feeling overworked). My colleagues are fantastic, too.

7. Playcentre. Like preschool, minus the schooling and those annoying rules. My boy isn't two yet, but he knows how to handle a saw and a vise, and Amelia can now build a fire. Sounds like anarchy but it's actually run by parents, with lots of theory and planning behind the scenes.

8. Roundabouts. They beat the hell out of stop signs once you figure out how to negotiate them. I'll also miss the prolific "give way" signs which mean that I go weeks without coming across a stop sign.

9. Trips to the South Island. I haven't been everywhere in the world yet, but I'd be surprised if there's a more beautiful place on this planet.

10. Common courtesy is actually common. Schoolkids and grandparents alike shout, "Thank you, driver!" from the back of the bus before they get off. I see ipod-clad teenagers offering their seats to women, and Amy is always surprised at how quickly young boys offer her help when she's out with the kids. It's refreshing.

11. Wellington. What a place. It has all of the benefits of a big city, with tons of activities going on all of the time and heaps of good restaurants. At the same time, we never worry about crime and it's like living in a big village. Traffic is a joke and you can walk straight across town in a half hour. Oh, and it's absolutely beautiful. I think I'll even miss the wind (which is blowing over 60 miles an hour today).

Our lovely city, from the Botanical Gardens.

12. Our new friends, who already feel like old friends.

13. Place names that compete with Thibodeaux and Natchitoches, as well as the Maori culture that is evident in more than just road signs.

Ka kite ano, whanau. We'll miss all of you very, very much.

Editors note: I've received a few kind requests to keep the blog up and running after we return to the States. I'm still documenting trips we took in January, so the posts will continue until I've finished writing about all of our NZ adventures. At the current rate, that means another few months at least.

Dunedin, Mount Cook, and Lake Tekapo

2009-04-26T12:08:00.040+12:00

Mount Cook. At 3,754 meters, it eats climbers on occasion.

After a few days of taking in the views of the remote beaches in the Catlins we headed north, back towards civilization. Our next stop was Dunedin, a city on the east coast. As we'd been roughing it for a few days we decided to recharge our batteries and take a hot shower, so we camped at the local RV park.

We headed to the city's museum, where Amy and Amelia found some nifty outfits. They toured the museum dressed like this:

My girls, dressed as settlers. Fetching, eh?

During our stay in Dunedin we heard about a "castle" built by a local businessman about a hundred years back and we decided to check it out one afternoon. Back in the 19th century, the risk of invasion from medieval armies was small, so the castle was really more of a crenellated mansion. It was certainly worth visiting, though, as it had been built by local craftsmen and lovingly restored. The gardens, in particular, were amazing.

The gardens at the castle. Gardens do well here due to the nuclear-grade sunlight and mild temps.

Our next stop in Dunedin was the impressive Otago Museum (Otago is the name of the region). Part of the museum housed a multistory rainforest environment complete with a swarm of butterflies which delighted the kids and left Amy ducking for cover.

Apparently fear of flying insects isn't genetic; I won't be surprised if this gal turns out to be an entomologist.

The fossil exhibit at the Otago museum was the highlight for me; there were moa bones (remember those huge, flightless birds hunted to extinction by the Maori?) found in local caves as well as NZ's largest fossil, a really aggressive looking aquatic animal with big teeth. The kids got a big kick out of the lifelike crocodile on the museum floor.

Quinn, enthusiastically demonstrating how a crocodile goes "snap!"

We left Dunedin and soon came across the Moeraki boulders, a bunch of unusually spherical boulders which formed about 65 million years ago. These boulders started out on the muddy sea floor as small crystals of lime with a bit of an electical charge; over about 4 million years they slowly attracted other minerals in spherical layers. The sea floor was eventually pushed up above the water's surface and you can now see boulders being eroded out of the side of the hills near the ocean. Most of these are about 8 feet wide. It's really a neat sight.

Notice the shattered boulders in the background, they are all essentially hollow.

Our next stop was Oamaru (Wa-ma-roo). This was a tiny town on the coast that really caught us by surprise. The town was built from local limestone and it featured one of the best gardens we'd come across in NZ (that's saying a lot). We were camped right next to the gardens and had a nice time walking through there, though I didn't take too many pics. Here's Quinn enjoying himself at the garden playgrounds:

My little bald man. He would later begin referring to slides as "weeee!" for obvious reasons.

Another neat thing in Oamaru was a local blue penguin colony. We bought tickets to the nightly show; people sit in bleachers and watch the penguins swim ashore while listening to park rangers talk about the cute little things. They swim up to 50km a day and return to that spot to feed their young. The chicks practically attack their parents as soon as they waddle ashore, exhausted.

Around this time Amelia developed a fascination with marriage, asking me and Amy about our wedding nonstop for about 3 days. She got a huge kick out of playing the bride, and we fashioned a veil for her from a napkin. She wore this for most of the day.

My girls on Amelia's first wedding day.

From Oamaru we headed inland, almost all the way across the island. Our destination was Mount Cook, the tallest peak in the country. On the way there we passed a lake saturated with minerals, resulting in a deep blue color that defied the imagination.

I was mobbed by sandflies while taking this pic, so I hope you enjoy it.

We had debated whether or not it would be worth the detour towards Mt. Cook, and we ended up being very happy that we decided to do it. The area was one of the most impressive we visited during our trip. The base camp was located on flat ground (carved out by glaciers, of course) and surrounded by incredible mountains. The mountains, incidentally, were part of the same range as those containing the Fox and Franz-Joseph glaciers which we'd seen whilst traveling down the west coast weeks earlier.

I don't know if it made international news or not, but two Japanese climbers were caught in a storm on Mt. Cook about a week before we arrived. Sadly, one of them didn't make it down. This isn't unheard of as it's a popular climbing destination and it's also a serious peak. Our babysitter, Kirsty, told us that her dad has climbed it a few times (she declined his offer to join him).

Amy and Quinn in front of a glacier-covered mountain range near Mt. Cook. They are standing on a huge lateral moraine which is basically a big pile of rocks deposited by a glacier. You can see other huge moraines in the background.

Me and my girl in front of Mt. Cook. Note the U-shaped valley; if you've paid attention then you'll know how that got there.

We stayed here for two days and we really couldn't get enough of the area. There were lots of day hikes in the area and we found one with two swing bridges over roaring rapids which led to great views of Mt. Cook. This was our favorite hike in NZ (there are better ones, but not the sort of thing to do with two toddlers).

A view looking away from Mt. Cook. The valley was truly stunning.

We had been rained out weeks earlier when we tried to visit Fox glacier, but we managed to get our fill of glaciers in the few days we camped here. The glaciers were in constant motion and you could hear them popping and cracking. It sounded like thunder echoing through the valleys. Amy woke up one night to the rumbling and thought that a landslide was going to hit us.

Family pic! Happy about it, Amelia?

A close-up of the crevasses formed as the glacier moves over the rock.

The girls playing in front of Mt. Cook.

The kids amused themselves that evening by playing house with a bunch of rocks. Yes, Quinn later managed to pull the house down on himself but avoided serious injury.

Our next stop was Lake Tekapo, renowned for the cute little stone church built on the edge of a gorgeous lake. The water here was an amazing shade of blue and the trout in the lake were gigantic.

Quinn points out the church, just visible on the peninsula.

The church itself is tiny but picturesque as it's constructed from uncut local stones and situated so that the view out of it's altar window is really pleasing to the eye (sorry, running out of synonyms for "beautiful" again).

The view from in front of the church.

Amy and the kids playing in a field in front of the church, with the clouds just starting to cover the mountains in the background.

We left Lake Tekapo with mixed feelings because we knew that the end of our journey was near. It was exciting to think about living in a house again, but Amy and I both loved spending so much time together as a family. It certainly was a challenge at times, but it was worth all of the effort.

Here's one of the last pictures taken on the trip. This was the nightly routine; we bought the books on sale in a small-town library and read them to the light of headlamps.

The Catlins

2009-04-16T06:53:00.029+12:00

One of the many deserted beaches in the Catlins.

We headed south after leaving Fjordland, making a beeline for the southern coast. This part of our trip would lead us off of the typical path taken by most people visiting the South Island. We were heading into a really remote area known as the Catlins.

As we approached the coast we stopped at some limestone caves to have a look. Amy and the kids decided to stay behind and I headed in alone to have a look around. That move ranks pretty high up there in the Stupid Things I've Done category but thankfully it all worked out all right. I couldn't get my camera to focus in the darkness of the cave but I found graffiti there from the late 1800's and some really neat limestone formations. After scrambling through the caves for 300 meters I found myself staring at a huge underground pool of water which completely blocked the exit. I had to turn around and try and reverse my steps (harder than it sounds) and ended up popping out of a third entrance to the cave. Whew.

The entrance to the cave. The kids and Amy went in about 20 meters, enough to spot some glow worms and convince Amelia that she was not going to take up spelunking.

After spending an uneventful night in a small southern town, we grabbed some provisions and headed down the coast into the really remote areas. As we approached the Catlins reserve, traffic was stopped by an errant flock of sheep:

By this point in the trip, we could see Stewart Island, the third of the major New Zealand islands. Didn't realize NZ had 3 major islands, did you? Most people don't talk about it much because it's essentially uninhabited. The whole thing is a nature preserve and the weather...well, you can probably guess what the weather is like being located that far south.

Given our location, we were taken completely by surprise when we came across a bluegrass festival being held in the middle of a sheep pasture.

It was surreal listening to Johnny Cash and an assortment of Appalachian music being sung in a Kiwi accent in South Nowhere, but everyone had a great time. It was laid back; there was no admission fee and the men's bathroom was a sheet of plastic strung between two stakes in the middle of a pasture.

You can make out the stage on the left and some of the local residents (sheep) on the right.

Amelia and me in between dances.

Quinn enjoying some hummus while sporting Amelia's hat.

After a relaxing afternoon of music we continued on to a beach in the Catlins. We camped on top of a hill overlooking the Southern Ocean. The views were really nice and the wildlife in this area was impressive.

The view from our campsite.

The sun came out the next day and we headed to the beach. Amy and I got our feet wet just to see what the water was like; it was painful but we did get a good laugh out of it. The kids then went to work digging a big hole.

Soon a sea lion swam up out of the ocean and started cruising around the beach. You can see him in the background of this picture:

It wasn't long before we had to scoop up the kids because the sea lion liked the look of their hole. He looks sweet enough in the pics but sea lions can be fairly nasty if you get too close.

This wasn't our last run in with the local fauna. Sea lions regularly visited the beach and a rare species of tiny dolphin also came in remarkably close to shore. The dolphins occasionally play around with people brave enough to swim in the frigid water.

Amy keeping an eye on another sea lion.

Right next to the campsite was a spot that I'd been looking forward to seeing; a petrified forest from the Cretaceous. 270 million years back, some flooding had covered a forest in silt and the entire thing became petrified. The ocean eroded away the covering rock and you can now walk around and look at the stumps and logs when the tide is out. It's still possible to make out the growth rings in the wood. Amelia really got a kick out of this.

Amelia checking out a petrified log.

Soon a thick fog rolled in and blanketed the area. It made for some really neat pictures, though.

One of my favorite photos from the trip; Amelia checking out the petrified forest and the coast.

Quinn and Amy playing in the pools at the petrified forest.

The sunsets here were nothing short of spectacular. Here are a few photos I took of the Southern Ocean at dusk:

Up next: back towards civilization. Dunedin and the butterfly exhibit, the extraordinary Mount Cook, and our return to Christchurch.

Fjordland and Milford Sound

2009-04-06T14:25:00.028+12:00

Our first glimpse of Fjordland. The glaciers created steep cliffs and U-shaped valleys.

We packed up the van after our night at Lake Te Anau and headed north into Fjordland towards Milford Sound. This was a bit daunting because the sandflies at the lake were rather intense and we had heard that the area we were entering had the worst sandflies in the country. As we entered the first major valley and caught a glimpse of the mountains, we got the feeling that something special lay ahead.

I once had a conversation with my brother Preston about this area after he visited years ago. I asked him what the single best spot in NZ was and he replied, "Milford Sound." I asked him why and he said something along the lines of, "I dunno, there are just a lot of steep mountains and stuff." I remembered wondering at the time what was so special about that.

The thing is, he was right. There just isn't any way to impart to you what this area is like. Everywhere you look, and I do mean everywhere, mountains rise straight up for more than a mile. You read that right. One mile, straight up. It's like something out of a fantasy novel. The cliffs are so sheer in most places that no earth clings to them; all of the rainwater (and there's plenty of that: it rains almost 200 days a year on average) cascades down the cliffs, creating waterfalls nearly a mile high.

Other waterfalls originate from the glaciers which are still perched atop these massive mountains. It was all I could do not to drive off of the road as I craned my neck out the window, trying to get a look at the mind-boggling scenery.

There are no real towns in this area of the country. This makes good sense because there's just enough flat land for a single road to snake through the mountains, and the sandflies are indeed awful. The main destination for people visiting fjordland is Milford Sound, which isn't really a sound at all because it's a fjord. Sounds are big valleys carved by rivers which fill with seawater; fjords are big valleys carved by glaciers which fill with seawater. The guys who named this place took their best guess but they happened to guess wrong; the name stuck anyway.

Once we arrived at Milford Sound we booked passage on one of the many scenic cruises in the area. The captain acted as the tour guide and did a wonderful job of teaching us about the geography of the fjord. We saw a "hanging valley" formed by one glacier emptying into an existing fjord; this created a waterfall 500 feet high which sounds impressive except that the wall of rock next to it continues straight up for another 4,700 feet or so. The fjord itself is half a mile deep, meaning that the glaciers which carved these valleys had to be impressive indeed.

Quinn checking things out on the cruise.

Above: The 500 foot high waterfall is that tiny looking thing near the bottom of the picture. The waterfall comes out of the "hanging valley" and you can see its characteristic U-shape. Look closely and you'll see a 3-story cruise ship at the bottom right of the pic, which shows you the scale.

It's tough to make out, but the horizontal striations in the cliffs show where the glacier pressed against the rock.

Amy and Quinn on the cruise.

After our tour we headed back south towards the coast, camping as soon as we reached flat land. The campsite was gorgeous; we were right next to a beautiful stream and surrounded by a beech forest with those monstrous mountains looming in the distance.

The view from our campsite.

Quinn and me before the sandflies hit.

It was here, in this idyllic setting, that the funniest moment of the trip occured. Around dusk the sandflies came out in force. They were terrible. If you opened the door of the van even for a second, a dozen of those bastards would invade and bite everyone in sight. We therefore decided to stay in the van until morning.

This was cool until Amelia announced that she needed to pee. It sounds like a little thing, right? Just take the kid outside for a minute and let her pee. This would have resulted in dozens of painfully itchy bites for everyone in addition to a sleepless night spent swatting at mosquitos and sandflies. We therefore decided to let her pee in a piece of tupperware which we used to store cleaning supplies. Amelia did a fine job peeing in the tupperware but she neglected to inform us that she also needed to poo; we discovered this in due course and the resulting situation was so bad that we couldn't help but laugh.

Our camping spot. Pic taken prior to the Tupperware Poo Incident.

Next up: the Catlins, a bluegrass festival at the bottom of the world, and a close encounter with a sea lion.

Wanaka, Queenstown, and Te Anau

2009-03-17T19:26:00.023+13:00

A panorama of the view from the town of Wanaka. You can see a storm in the middle of the picture (click on it to enlarge).

As we drove away from the perpetually waterlogged West coast, the clouds and rain disappeared and we were treated to some fine summer weather. Our first stop was Wanaka, a small town nestled in what used to be a gold mining area. The gold rush in NZ occurred around the same time as the one in the States, and many towns just dried up when it was over. A few, like Queenstown, hung on and eventually came back to life via the tourist industry.

Wanaka is sort of up-and-coming as a tourist destination but still retains its small-town charm (Queenstown, while gorgeous, has been taken over by the tourists).

Amelia checking out some of the locals in Wanaka.

We spent two days relaxing in Wanaka and soaking up the scenery before making the short drive to Queenstown. Most people who visit NZ make a beeline for this place because it's located on the edge of a pristine lake surrounded by impressive mountains. It's the adventure capital of the country and it's where bungy jumping was invented. All day long you can hear the roar of jetboats and watch people parasailing. I'd recommend this spot to anyone visiting the country but we stuck to the less adventurous stuff because of the kids.

It was while we were in Queenstown that Quinn developed his still-present habit of helping to push the stroller. This slowed us down a bit, so we tried to carry him instead. He explained that this was a poor idea and we eventually explored the entire town like this:

Quinn literally walked about 2.5 miles like this before giving up.

Amelia and Amy posing with the founder of Queenstown. He was a gold miner and he must have liked sheep.

Quinn at the Queenstown botanical gardens.

Quinn posing with a really big tree at the botanical gardens.

By this point we had been on the road for a few weeks. It was fun watching the kids adapt to living in a van; they didn't seem to notice that anything was amiss. Amelia got quite creative and decided to make a tuba out of our water hose:

Quinn checking out the lake with the Remarkables (the local mountain range) in the background.

Me and the kids at the lake with the botanical gardens and the Remarkables behind us.

After Queenstown we headed towards Fijordland. As you may have gathered from the name, Fijordland is a big area in the southwest part of the South island which is made up of fijords. It's kind of weird looking at it on a map because there's only one road in the entire area, and no towns to speak of. When you finally make it into Fijordland you quickly understand why this is, but I'll save that for next time. Our last stop before heading into the wilds was a town called Te Anau. It's well known as the launching point for people heading into Fijordland, but it's beautiful in its own right. We camped that night at Lake Te Anau, watching storms blow across the other side of the lake. It was astounding being practically alone in such a setting.

Me and the kids playing with rocks at the edge of the lake.

Sunset at Lake Te Anau. Otherworldly.

The West Coast

2009-03-06T11:58:00.030+13:00

Ask a Kiwi about the West Coast and inevitably you'll hear about what a wild place it is. The coast is isolated and beautiful with lots of steep mountains, but it's sparsely populated. I imagine this has something to do with the heaps of sandflies and the rather excessive amount of rain that falls there. OH MY GOD DOES IT RAIN. Some places average 25 feet of rain per year. This had me worried as we headed to the coast because I didn't want to be stuck in a van with two kids and a bunch of sandflies while it stormed all day long.

We stopped first in Hokitika, known around here as the center of the jade trade. Known as pounamu to the Maori, jade is a really hard stone valued by the Maori for its use in adze blades, jewelry, and weapons. Jade forms 60 miles below the Earth's surface because it requires a lot of pressure to form, so you only find it in places where plate tectonics are really going apeshit, i.e. New Zealand. It's very popular in jewelry around here and you'll see large boulders of the stuff in prominent places, where people touch it for luck. After checking out the local jade factories and street vendors, I found myself wishing I could find a local river with a good supply and go collect some myself. At the end of the day, my kids and I made a nice discovery: jade was lying around wherever lots of rocks could be found. We scrambled around a gravel parking lot that evening, the kids and me picking up dusty gray rocks and spitting on them to see if they were jade. It made quite a sight, but we found some good stuff.

We left Hokitika and headed south down the coast, driving along a rugged and beautiful rainforest-choked road. Our next stop was at the Franz-Joseph glacier. Let me back up a bit; the reason for all of the aforementioned rain is that the steep mountains cause the humidity in the air to condense. At the bottom of the mountains, this rains down and creates the rainforest. At the top of the mountains, huge snowfields form and thicken until the pressure forms a river of ice, a.k.a. a glacier. There are over a hundred glaciers in this part of the country, but only a few of them come all the way down to the rainforest (I've heard that this is the only place on Earth where you can find a glacier in the middle of the rainforest). You can't get too close to these bad boys because they'll kill you, as some hapless tourists found out about a week before we visited.

Amelia and me checking out the Franz-Joseph glacier.

Waterfalls lined the steep walls of the valley on the hike to the glacier.

Amy and the kids about a kilometer from the glacial terminus.

This was about as close as we got. The ill-fated tourists decided to walk right up to the face and Darwin intervened.

After our walk to the glaciers we traveled down the coast a bit further to a town called Haast. On the way we saw some great scenery; here's a picture from Knight Point:

I hope you enjoy this picture. I donated a pint of blood to the sandflies while taking it.

On the way we had to detour around a wee landslide:

After having a few days of fine weather, the heavens opened up. We therefore found outselves in Haast, stuck in a van with two kids and a bunch of sandflies while it stormed all day long.

After leaving Haast we headed back inland, through the Haast Pass. Though we were tired of being rained on by then, the scenery was still beautiful. Everywhere you looked, clouds covered massive mountains with waterfalls cascading down the sides.

Typical West Coast scenery.

Beech Forest, Haast Pass.

Blue Hole, Haast Pass. Gigantic trout teemed in these pools.

Forest, Hast Pass.

Up next: our jaunt in central Otago.

Life Can Be Pretty Rough Sometimes...

2009-02-24T22:21:00.005+13:00

Though, thankfully, now is not one of those times. Well, ok, maybe it is with respect to my bank account and the global economy, but I'm going to postpone thinking about that for a bit. Amy's parents are in town and we're heading off to the South Island to show them around for a week.

It's hard to believe, but I imagine this will be our last trip down South for a few years. I don't have much vacation left and we're planning to use that to see parts of the North Island a bit down the road. We've reached the point now where we need to make a list of stuff we really want to do before we head home. Wild.

Oh, by the way, I haven't mentioned that I signed a contract to work at the Naval Hospital in Portsmouth, VA. We'll be heading back to the States in mid-May and I'll start work in June. This trip has been fantastic (and it ain't over yet) but we can't wait to see everyone in a few months!

Time to work on that flip-flop tan some more.

Arthur's Pass

2009-02-17T15:10:00.004+13:00

After our rest in Akaroa we started to hit the road for real. Since we'd already seen the northern end of the island we decided to head across the middle of the island instead, crossing over the Southern Alps via Arthur's Pass. The Southern Alps are some pretty serious mountains and I was holding my breath to see how the campervan would handle the long climbs. I had also been warned about "those roads on the South Island" more than a few times. As it turned out, White Bird campervan was up to the challenge and driving in Wellington is harder than driving on the South Island. But on with the story...

Our first stop after Akaroa was actually back in Christchurch. We dropped off some excess gear and then headed to the local wildlife sanctuary. As with our last visit to the zoo, the rules were a bit more lax than we were used to. This meant that we were able to feed the giraffes and get really close to the rhinos. Feeding time for the lions was also groovy; they starved them for a day prior to feedings (it's good for them, I swear) so they are really motivated when the meat shows up.

We left the zoo late in the afternoon. The kids were falling asleep and we needed a place to camp (aside: we weren't the first people to think about driving around the South Island in a campervan. Everybody does this, and locals got fed up with people trashing the popular spots. Ergo, there are now some rules about where you can and can't camp. Your choice is to camp in a pay site, crammed next to other campers but with amenities like electricity and showers, or "freedom camp" in a remote spot where you don't think you'll be bothered). We pulled out a map of Christchurch, located a road near the zoo that looked pretty remote, and headed that way. Before long we found a gravel parking lot for an all-terrain vehicle park that looked suitable.

White Bird Campervan at the ATV park.

The dirtbikers showed up right as we were cleaning up from dinner. The first dude was driving an old Ford Falcon Ute (only in NZ is the El Camino still alive and well) with a horn that played exactly half of Dixie before petering out. His mates weren't far behind, and we got to see an interesting slice of Kiwi culture that evening. It all worked out in the end because Quinn somehow slept through the noise of a half dozen dirtbikes ripping through the parking lot, and nobody kicked us out of there.

The next morning we headed for Arthur's Pass. We didn't snap any pics of the pass itself because we didn't want to stop (the kids wake up whenever the van stops) and the camera was in the back of the car. Hey, it was a learning process. You should check out this pic, though, because the pass was amazing.

We soon passed Castle Hill, the local rock climbing spot. I drooled when I saw it: a bunch of limestone boulders a few hundred feet tall in the middle of a field, all on top of a gorgeous mountain range. I'd like to head back there some day...

Castle Hill; see horses in front for scale.

We did a lot better with our choice of camping spot that night. By this point we realized that it was important to have chosen a place to stay by early evening, so we stopped shortly after passing Castle Hill. To say that we found a remote spot is an understatement.

Van on the left.

Quinn checks the place out.

Amelia helped out by washing the bumper.

The next day we packed up and moved on, stopping for a short hike before arriving on the West coast. The West coast is known by Kiwis as a wild and rugged place, which makes it pretty interesting by my standards. That's a story for another day, though...

Amelia and me hiking back from seeing a waterfall.

Editor's note: I know, I've repeated some pics. That should stop soon as I catch up on my sleep and move on to the more recent stuff.

Akaroa

2009-02-10T21:47:00.000+13:00

And thus it began: our epic journey around the South Island. Chapter one involved picking up the campervan in Christchurch and spending a day provisioning before camping at a not-so-fancy campground near the edge of the city. Looking back through the pictures, I'm not surprised that we didn't take too many at this stage in the game. We faced a number of questions: should the kids sleep separately to avoid waking one another? Would the beds be comfortable? How does the electrical system work? Would this end in divorce?

Lunch in the van, day two.

Day two: our first road trip. We drove about 2 hours to the small coastal town of Akaroa, founded by some Frenchmen a couple hundred years ago. French settlements are pretty rare in these parts, and the town has retained some French heritage as well as significant charm. It is, of course, beautiful.

Heading to town.

We spent two days here before heading back to Christchurch. At this point we were still getting our technique down with the campervan and it was nice to stay in the same spot for more than a day. The majority of our trip involved moving every day (which may sound easy with a campervan, though in reality in involves a bit of work).

Downtown Akaroa and the hills beyond.

Quinn on the beach.

We eventually settled on a system where Amy and I alternated sleeping spots; one night with Amelia in the top bunk and the next with Quinn down below. To make extra sure that Amelia doesn't fall from the open-ended bunk, we slept backwards with our heads tucked at the end of the narrow upper compartment. It was cozier than it sounds and this was definitely the night Amy and I both look forward to as Quinn is a restless and often violent sleeper. We couldn't trust the kids to sleep together because there are too many dangerous things for Quinn to get into, and they'd wake each other up anyway.

The view from our campsite. Yeah, the hike back up was interesting.

We started with a pattern of driving during the kids' naptime, and kept the drives shorter than 2 hours . This allows Amy and I to see the scenery during the day while theoretically letting the kids sleep through the roadtrip. At first, this worked out fairly well, giving us 90 minutes of peace but usually ending in about 20 minutes of hell once the kids awoke. By week two, the kids had adapted unbelievably well and were little road-trip machines.

Casa de Lovelace, aptly dubbed "white bird campervan" by Amelia.

After a few days we headed back through Christchurch on our way to Arthur's Pass. While in Christchurch, we stopped at a wild game preserve at the edge of town. The best part about this place (as with the Wellington Zoo) was the low-key approach. We were able to get very close to the animals and the kids got to feed giraffes for the second time since our arrival in NZ.

We left the game preserve pretty late and the kids were falling asleep in their carseats- this did not bode well as a late afternoon nap for them means a looong night for us. We hastily found a spot to park the van, in the parking lot of a dirtbike park at the edge of town. It was just as glamerous as it sounds, and gave us a nice view of an interesting segment of NZ society as the dirtbikers filed in for a late-evening tear around the park.

ATV park EXCITING! Let's hope the camping spots improve from here...

Ta Da!

2009-02-07T22:30:00.003+13:00

Well, we pulled it off. We're safe and sound back in Welly after our trip to the South Island. One month, two kids, one campervan, 2,830 km (for those of you living in Liberia, Burma, or the USA, that's 1,758 miles). We are a bit out of touch; I have no idea who won the college football national championship or which teams even played in the Super Bowl.

I no longer have any excuse not to post on the blog, so expect a revival of sorts. The first post should show up later on this week.

We've Moved

2009-01-16T21:36:00.007+13:00

Our new home.

How time flies! My 6 month contract finished on January 9th. To celebrate, we took a month off and caught a flight down to Christchurch. Our plan: rent a campervan for an entire month and explore the South Island.

This is one of those gambits that either pays off or ruins you. I freely admit that we were equal parts nervous and excited as the trip approached, neither Amy nor I knowing if we could pull off a month long, thousand mile road trip while living out of a van.

So far we've been on the road for 6 days, long enough to lose track of time and settle into a groove. We've been pleasantly surprised at how well things have gone, and I already find myself wishing that we had more time on this trip.

We move almost every day, driving about 2 hours per day. I eventually plan to post about the stuff we've seen, but I have to catch up on some other things first (there are so many other things to tell about even before I get to the trip; my climbing trip with Kraemer, our visit from our friend Robin)...

Thus far the risk has paid off beautifully. The other day I spent an entire hour pushing rocks off of a bridge into the river with Amelia. The kids have adapted beautifully to the travelling and we've seen things so amazing that they defy description (I know I say that a lot. Ask anyone that knows a lot about NZ and they'll tell you I'm not kidding- the things we've seen prior to this are like NZ Lite compared to the areas we're seeing now).

I'll be honest: my goal is to start posting about these travels within the next month. As you can see, it can get pretty remote here and thus internet access can be a bit dodgy (that's our van in the photo below):

The view from our new kitchen is worth it, though.

All of these pics were taken during our stay near Arthur's Pass. More to come, and hopefully soon...

Once upon a time....

2009-01-09T22:45:00.011+13:00

Once upon a time there was a darling little girl who was clever and silly and oh-so-sweet. She wished and wished that she could one day, finally, have a birthday of her very own. She patiently waited while her Dad, Mom, and little brother all had their own birthdays. She patiently waited while all of her cousins, and aunts and uncles and grandparents and friends and everyone in the whole world had a birthday.

And then one splendidly lovely day, Amelia Kinsale Lovelace woke up, looked outside, saw her lollipop tree and knew that her birthday had finally, finally arrived.

And what a birthday it was!

Amelia picked lollipops all morning,

baked, designed, and decorated her birthday cake before nap

and played heaps of games all afternoon with her Kiwi friends

(including "Pin the parts on the Amelia").

Everyone partied the day away and Quinn somehow managed to lose his pants, but not his charm.

Amelia thanked her friends for coming to celebrate with her

and everyone snuggled up with a good book and a warm lap.

Happy, Happy 3rd Birthday Our Darling Girl!

The Creation of NZ (according to the Maori)

2008-12-17T09:30:00.015+13:00

Maui was a demi-god, who lived in Hawaiiki. He possessed magic powers that not all of his family knew about.

One day when he was very young, he hid in the bottom of his brothers' boat in order to go out fishing with them. Once out at sea, Maui was discovered by his brothers, but they were not able to take him back to shore as Maui made use of his magic powers, making the shoreline seem much further away than it was in reality.

So the brothers continued rowing, and once they were far out into the ocean Maui dropped his magic fishhook over the side of the waka (canoe). After a while he felt a strong tug on the line. This seemed to be too strong a tug to be any ordinary fish, so Maui called to his brothers for assistance.

After much straining and pulling, up suddenly surfaced Te Ika a Maui (the fish of Maui), known today as the North Island of New Zealand. Maui told his brothers that the Gods might be angry about this, and he asked his brothers to wait while he went to make peace with the Gods.

However, once Maui had gone his brothers began to argue among themselves about the possession of this new land. They took out their weapons and started pounding away at the catch. The blows on the land created the many mountains and valleys of the North Island today.

In an unfortunate turn of events, Maui then bumped into his old acquaintance, Satan, just as he was returning from his epic fishing trip. To celebrate, the two of them went out drinking (as Satan is wont to do). The next morning, Maui awoke with a demigod-grade hangover to discover that he had somehow created the sandfly during his night out. The Gods were incredibly pissed about this and an entirely new set of demigods was soon elected.

Now is a good time to point out that New Zealand is remarkably devoid of creatures capable of hurting humans (especially when you consider its proximity to Australia, where most living things can kill you instantly). There are no poisonous snakes. The only mammals present are dolphins and one species of long-tailed bat (ergo, no bears, wolverines, boars, mountain lions, etc.). There are two species of posionous spiders here, but bites from them are extremely rare. As you'll recall, the apex predator when the Maori first arrived was a huge, flightless bird.

This is where the sandfly comes in. It's really the only creature you have to worry about, but Holy Mother of God is it a nusiance. They congregate around areas with running water and they show up in huge numbers. Their bite isn't too bad- it feels kind of like a flea- but the itching that results is awful. If you've ever been bitten by a chigger, that's a reasonable approximation.

There's no really good way to avoid these things. I've tried 90% DEET (how good is that for your skin?) and it only kinda worked. They do fly slowly, though, so they won't bite if you keep moving. This explains why people in certain parts of the South Island often appear to have a bad case of Parkinson's. Thankfully, we've only run into these terrors in remote places on the South Island. Unfortunately, we'll be spending most of January in- you guessed it- remote places on the South Island. I'll let you know how it goes.

Oh yeah: a few of you have asked about our plans for returning to the US. Not sure how I forgot to mention this, but I signed a new contract which starts in February and runs until mid-May. We'll be heading home before the end of May.

Thanks to maori-in-oz.com for the creation story (minus the last paragraph) and to the NZ gov't for the pic of the sandfly.

Family Vacation, continued

2008-12-09T14:15:00.022+13:00

That's my first brown trout.

We returned from Tahiti sunburned and happy, with two days to prepare for our next trip. Having my entire family in town was quite a treat as we were able to show them all the things we loved about Wellington.

My parents took the kids for a walk through the botanical gardens and came back raving about the rose garden (which had reached full bloom while we were away). Amy and I had a look for ourselves and were equally impressed:

After a few days in Welly, we all flew to the South Island and drove a few hours to the tiny town of St. Arnaud's (pop. 155). This town is situated at the tip of lake Rotoiti in the Nelson lakes national park. This is a fairly remote area and it's chock full of beautiful mountains and rivers.

A word about those rivers; just about every river in the area has world-class trout fishing. The plan was for Dad and my brothers to go fishing with a local guide while Amy and I took off on a brief tramp (of the rare, kids-free variety).

Amy and I climbed Mt. Roberts, which overlooks St. Arnaud's and lake Rotoiti. Guess what? It was beautiful. (Aside: everything here is beautiful. I've run out of synonyms for "beautiful" by this point in the blog. If you can think of any useful ways to describe something as pretty, please email me.) Here are some pics:

Lake Rotoiti, from about halfway up Mt. Roberts. That boat is heading towards St. Arnaud's. The gentle slope on the right is the result of glaciers which were here a (long) while back.

We camped that night in one of the local tramping huts. These are well maintained cabins which can be found throughout the backcountry along major trails. We had some nice views from the top until the clouds rolled in that evening:
Above: The view of the lake from the hut.

_ID_5279199390203150578" />The Bushline hut, so named because it's situated right at the bushline. This is what it looked like that evening when the clouds rolled in.

We returned after our getaway to find that the kids had been having quite a good time with Getch and Grandad:

And now, on to the fishing.

I've heard quite a few well-traveled fly fisherman opine that New Zealand is home to the best trout fishing in the world. The fishing itself can be pretty tough because the water is so clear that you have to spot the fish before they spot you, then sneak up on them without spooking them. If you actually manage to hook one, then you're in a different kind of trouble because every fish you see is so damn huge that they'll snap the line in a heartbeat. How big are they? Kraemer (who's done a lot of fly fishing) says that a trophy brown back in the States is anything over about 20 inches long, weighing in at 5 pounds or more. People fish their whole lives and never land trout this big.

Kraemer and I hooked 7 fish, landing 4 on our day together and the smallest one we caught weighed at least 6 pounds. It was pretty ridiculous to see that many huge fish and we had one hell of a good time.

Above: Kraemer fights another beauty. If you look closely, you can see the fish.

Kraemer landed this one about 5 minutes after we got to the river.

Warning: the next section gets a bit graphic. It's probably worth reading, unless you're squeamish.

In the course of the few days we were there, we spent a lot of time in the company of the locals, including our guide. They informed us that if we really wanted to get in on some good fishing then we should come back next year, during the mouse plague.

"The what?" we asked.

"The mouse plague, eh. See, the local beech trees flower every 5 or six years, and they drop millions of small seeds. The mice go nuts, and breed like,...well, mice, and pretty soon you've got a full-blown plague. You'll see them gathered in the road at night."

Us: "As in, hundreds of them in the road at once?"

Them: "Try tens of thousands; you'll see a solid sheet of mice when you drive around the corner. They're everywhere. They fall into the rivers and lakes and the trout go nuts. They gorge themselves like you wouldn't believe. Six pound trout turn into ten pound trout in a few weeks. When you pick them up, they barf and shit mice at the same time. You can see the lumps in the fish because they're so full. Hell, the fish even get hemorrhoids from crapping so many mice. It's pretty brilliant, eh?"

Amy did not think this was brilliant and she made it quite clear that she wouldn't be joining us during the mouse plague years.

Up next: I wasn't able to cover sandflies this time, so we'll touch on that subject later. Also, Christmas in summertime.

Changes in Latitudes

2008-12-02T11:29:00.048+13:00

Amy and I threw a bit of a kink into the Lovelace's annual family vacation plans by moving 9,000 miles away, so we decided to split the difference and meet up somewhere in the Pacific. A few weeks back Kraemer, Amy, myself, and the kids all packed up our swimming togs (swimsuits) and hopped on a 5 hour flight to Tahiti.

Tahiti is the main island of the group of islands known as French Polynesia. True to their name, the people of these islands parlay some serious Francais; consequently there is a surprisingly large language barrier. Ordering food in English produced random results so I found myself trying to speak French, which is always amusing.

The main island of Tahiti is surprisingly underwhelming. It's got an airport and a bunch of hotels but it's not the dreamy little island you might expect. A rather unglamorous city and ordinary coastline are all that the main city of Papeete has to offer. A short plane ride away, though, lie some of the most beautiful islands on Earth.

Our first real stop was the nearby island of Moorea. We proceeded to do Beach Things there for about 3 days. The water was clear, the snorkeling good, and the sun hot.

Above: Uncle Kraemer and Quinn at the pool; below,swimming with Uncle Preston.

It was during our stay on Moorea that we first encountered Hinano Tahiti. This beer deserves special mention: Hinano is the local brew and it has a monopoly on the place. Hinano is a soulless lager with strong undertones of skunked Beast. We worked hard to refine our beer drinking technique, eventually realizing that Hinano is at its best when pulled out of the freezer and consumed quickly while holding one's nose.

After a few days of chilling on the beach we took a short flight to Bora Bora, where we proceeded to chill out on the beach. Bora Bora is a classic atoll (follow the link for a nifty explanation of how these form), which means that its main island is surrounded by a coral reef. The water in the lagoon is an impossible shade of azure and the barrier reef ensures that the lagoon remains quite placid. We spent some time taking small boats around the atoll, snorkelling whenever we found a good spot.

Above: Bora Bora's main island

Above: L'hotel et la plage

Amelia, safety conscious as ever.

Grandad and Quinn

After a few days in Bora Bora, I began to understand why many of the US troops stationed there in the War decided not to return home. It's a beautiful and peaceful place and it was great spending so much quality time with the family.

Coming soon: The family vacation continues on the South Island; a nice tramp, demonic sandflies, and trout fishing.

The South Island, In Good Company

2008-11-14T12:39:00.045+13:00

After much anticipation we finally made it across the Cook Straight to get a taste of the South Island. We had the good fortune of traveling with Sarah and Danny, some good friends who are much loved by both of our kids. While Amy and I packed the bags, Sarah and Danny cooked up a fantastic meal with some native mussels and some steak from our man the butcher.

We started our journey the next day on the Interislander ferry. This is a memorable way to get from one island to the other as the views of the Queen Charlotte Sound (on the South Island) are amazing. A cargo truck managed to delay our departure by catching on fire -before it boarded the ferry, fortunately- but the Kiwis handled it with their usual aplomb and off we went.

Our initial plan was to spend the first day driving to the sunny, bohemian town of Nelson. We ran into our second and more substantive delay, though, when a massive landslide closed the motorway. Ergo, a surprisingly pleasant detour took us through beautiful wine country and left us in Havelock, the "green-shelled mussel capital of the world." There isn't much going on in Havelock aside from mussels, but everyone agreed that life's really more about the journey anyway so we drank some beer and ate some mussels and took off the next morning for Nelson.

Above: I've had worse detours.

Nelson was a really neat town. It's about as laid back a place as you'll find in Western civilization; one place we considered staying is actually "clothing optional" during certain parts of the year (sorry, the fun doesn't start until February and we didn't stay there anyway). The town is full of artists, galleries, and other relaxed folk and it boasts the best weather in NZ.

The next day we finally made our way to Abel Tasman national park. Tasman was a Dutch explorer who was the first European to visit the area which still bears his name. His employer, the Dutch East India Company (remember that one from your history class?) wasn't too thrilled with his discoveries but they should have taken a longer view of things because the area now attracts hordes of travelers.

People flock here with good reason: the park is like something plucked out of a daydream. There are loads of bays and coves where rocky cliffs open up onto sandy beaches. One of New Zealand's great walks meanders through the park; sections of rainforest replete with waterfalls alternate with stunning views of the shoreline below. If I'm sounding like a travel brochure just skip to the pics and you'll understand. You can't drive to most locations in the park but water taxis make traveling around fairly easy.

After pondering the pile of gear needed to camp with the kids we decided to cheat and had our bags dropped off at the campsite by a water taxi. The hiking was still nothing to scoff at as the children are getting pretty heavy and we had seven hours of solid hiking spread out over the two days we were there. All of our efforts paid off, though, as we found ourselves camping here with practically no one else around:

Above: if you click on the pic you can make out Amy and Sarah walking with the kids. Below: more frolicking on the beach.

After hiking another beautiful section of the track the following morning, we sadly had to part ways with the Van Ormans. They camped again that night in the park and are currently somewhere on the South Island enjoying themselves immensely. It was really great to get to spend some time with good friends in such an amazing place.

On the trip home we discovered that Amelia's previous bout of carsickness wasn't a fluke, but at least we had views like this whenever we stopped for a break:

Next up: Tahiti and Bora Bora with the Lovelaces, followed by another trip to the South Island to tap into the local trout fishing. I felt a pang of guilt while typing that, but it vanished when I thought about what the exchange rate has done to my salary.

A Rough Trip and A Good Yarn

2008-11-07T09:49:00.008+13:00

Setting: a sports bar in downtown Welly. Kraemer and I are out with some of the guys from work, grabing a beer and watching the Wellington Lions (local rugby team) win their way into the national championship match. We're talking about which players we have man-crushes on ("Oooh, I love that dude. He really hits hard."). My buddy Suren is with us. He's a 4th generation South African of Indian descent and therefore is full of great tales about growing up in apartheid S. Africa with brown skin. He and Strewn (Kiwi guy) start swapping tales about their favorite rugby players of all time when Suren says, "Hey, remember Buck Shelford? He was a right tough bastard, eh?"

Strewn: "Oh yeah, I remember that time he got his testicle rucked out-"

Full Stop.

Kraemer and I make that face that all guys make when they hear something like this, and I ask him to repeat what he just said. Strewn says, "Oh yeah, he was really something, eh, one time he got his testicle ripped out in a ruck. He got the team doc to put it back and stitch up his scrotum and then he played the second half of the match."

I had a hard time believing this so I looked it up. It's true. Strewn left out the fact that old Buck apparently lost a couple of teeth in addition to part of his reproductive gear, but he did manage to keep playing. Yikes.

On to a less painful matter: our family trip from hell.

That's not a skirt.

Remember that family trip from your childhood that went completely awry? For me it was a road trip to Hana (a city in Hawaii). Ask anyone in my family about it and they'll fill you in. Anyway, I was on the other end of one of these about two weeks ago. It seemed simple on paper; one of the best rock climbing spots in NZ is just across Wellington harbor and it's located on a beach. I figured that we could all cram into the car, drive about 40 minutes, hike another 15 along the beach (crossing a small stream), and the kids could play in the sand while Kraemer and I climbed.

I'll sum it up from there as quickly as possible (deep breath): Amelia and Amy got carsick and Amelia puked about 2 minutes before we reached the parking lot and then the stream turned out to be about 8 feet deep where we wanted to cross and I got soaked looking for a better spot to cross and then Amelia peed in her pants and had to wear my boxer shorts (the only thing still dry) and Quinn ate a lot of sand and we never made it to the rocks and then Quinn got carsick and puked on the way home and by then I'd run out of things with which to clean up puke because everything was already covered in puke or pee.

The good news is that everyone, including the kids, maintained a Pollyana-grade cheery attitude throughout the whole ordeal and it really turned into something quite funny.

Quinn finally stopped crapping gravel about a week later, and Amelia seems to have a rather rosy recollection of the trip. Someone at school asked her what she had been up to over the weekend. "I went to the beach," she beamed, "and I got to throw up."

Editor's note: The frequency of blog postings shows no signs of increasing any time soon, unfortunately; our friends Sarah and Danny have arrived and we're heading to the South Island this weekend to tramp through Abel Tasman park. I've been hoarding vacation time and I'm taking the whole month of January off, so that adds up to 40+ days of vacation between now and February. I'll post when I can!

I Come Bearing Grits

2008-10-14T21:27:00.009+13:00

You may have noticed that I haven't posted much lately. As it happens, the temperature outside and the amount of time I spend blogging are inversely proportional. Go figure.

We haven't taken any significant trips in the last few weeks, but one night we did take Amelia out on a special after-bedtime trip to the botanical garden to check out some glow worms. These are really neat critters which glow a beautiful blue-green color in order to attract other insects before trapping them in sticky, dangling threads:

(picture courtesy of someone affiliated with the Australian Government)

The next major development was the arrival of my brother Kraemer. He landed a few days ago and brought four pounds of grits with him. This is important because Kiwis no hablan los grits and that means that Amelia's Favorite Breakfast Food of All Time has been conspicuously absent for a while now. Here's Kraemer allowing Quinn to check out his computer:

Of course, the weather turned absolutely beautiful the day Kraemer arrived and it hasn't changed since. I have been hoarding vacation time and we're starting to make a list of fun things to do over the next several months; spots to surf, places to hike, etc. Good times ahead.

I can't think of a segue for this, so here's a pic of the kids walking some stuffed animals:

Last, but certainly not least, Quinn turned one today. Amelia helped Amy bake a cake and Quinn generally seemed to enjoy himself. He's starting to make attempts to communicate; his cutest stunt is to say "Hi Hi" whenever Amy answers the phone.

Kaitoke

2008-09-30T21:07:00.011+13:00

We hopped in the car last Sunday and headed about 40 minutes north of Wellington to visit Kaitoke national park. Kaitoke is widely advertised as being the setting for Rivendell, the city of the elves in The Lord of the Rings. I promise we planned to visit the park before I knew this (aside: the LOTR tourism is embarrasingly huge here. I liked the movies, too, but you wouldn't believe the people who flock here just to check out where the movie was filmed). This area is also where Wellington gets its drinking water, which explains why it tastes so good.

The park had a lot of older trees, some dating back a thousand years or so to the time when moa roamed the land. This leads me to present your bit of NZ paleontology for the day: NZ originally separated from Gondwana about 85 million years ago and subsequently developed a completely unique set of flora and fauna which resemble that of Gondwana more closely than anywhere else on earth. That's why the plants and trees here look like drawings from dinosaur books (viz. tree ferns). There were no mammals; large, flightless birds took over the role of major land predators. When humans arrived about a thousand years back, they found this quite amusing. They clubbed the moa to death and ate them for dinner and now there are only a few species of flightless birds here which you can find in a few remote and heavily protected locations.

Here's Amy hanging out in front of one of a very old tree with a very long name:

The forests here are dark, cool, and completely covered in moss and lichen. When you combine this with the prehistoric flora, it makes for a very unique hike.

Amelia has been worrying about me lately because I apparently get too close to the edge of cliffs for her liking. Here we are next to a small dropoff, as she keeps a close eye on the situation.

After the main hike, we walked the 10 minutes from the parking lot to the site where Rivendell was set. It was nice, but a bit underwhelming given the surrounding scenery.

I'll leave you with a picture of Quinn, who thinks it quite mundane to take pictures with a closed mouth:

We're not gonna take it...

2008-09-27T20:35:00.002+12:00

I've had the chance to listen to some Kiwi radio by now and I've found it to be an interesting smorgasbord of sound. The 80's evidently made their mark here in NZ because I've been treated to more than my fair share of old school rock and I've learned something about myself in the process. For example: I hereby confess that I like many of Bon Jovi's songs. There, I said it. When they were first popular, I was rocking to Guns N' Roses, dude, and I wouldn't have admitted that I liked this guy for a million bucks.

Other blasts from the past: remember the theme song to "The Greatest American Hero?" Heard that bad boy on the radio the other day. Twisted Sister is still as catchy as it was back in '84, and Phil Collins holds his own but only in small doses.

Re: modern music; they really like Coldplay. As in really, really like it. Hit the "scan" button on the radio and you'll probably just switch from one Coldplay song to another. This is a very effective form of torture and I often prefer to simply drive in silence rather than being Colplayed into oblivion.

On a very positive note (for me, anyway), they are also infatuated with The Red Hot Chili Peppers and Metallica. Incidentally, all of the above music can be found on the same radio station.

Editor's note: please pardon the dearth of postings. We haven't been up to much lately. Should the weather hold, we'll spend a day this weekend hiking in the spot where Rivendell (from The Lord of the Rings) was set.

Eau de Zoo

2008-09-18T20:23:00.007+12:00

It turns out that people weren't lying when they told us that the weather was unusually nasty when we first arrived. It's clearly improved in the last few weeks and while it's not rare to get clouds and drizzle, we're no longer surprised by nice weather. We had another beautiful weekend, so we headed to the Wellington zoo. The zoo wasn't huge but it was well done and quite worth the trip.

The highlight of the day was an up-close encounter with the giraffes. These are one of Amelia's favorite animals and we both got to feed them. Amelia loved this but did not appreciate the smell, as you can see (It's not immediately obvious, but there's a giraffe behind the fence in the following pic.)

Other highlights included spotting a kiwi (bigger than expected, with a body the size of a volleyball) as well as seeing a few animals we'd never heard of such as a sun bear. Quinn had a particular affinity for the zebra, as demonstrated below:

Oh, and it's official, if unrelated to the zoo trip: the boy is walking now. It took him about a week to figure out and he can now make it across the room unassisted. His favorite hobby has become pushing things across the floor, so it's easier to keep him occupied. Pics to follow at some point.

All Blacks v Wallabies: a Haiku

2008-09-16T15:15:00.022+12:00

Collisions and pain
Cleats dig into my kidneys
Victory is ours!

Well, the Boys in Black pulled off a big one the other night. With their 28-24 win over Australia's national team (the Wallabies), the All Blacks managed to win both the Tri-Nations and Bledisloe cups. The Tri-Nations is a yearly competition between South Africa, Australia, and New Zealand. Since these countries are traditional rugby powerhouses, the Tri-Nations is a big deal.

The Bledisloe is a bragging-rights trophy (a familiar concept to college football fans: think Paul Bunyan's Axe, the Golden Boot, etc) which changes hands between Australia and NZ on those occasions when the Aussies actually manage to beat NZ more than once in a year.

The match itself was phenomenal and completely lived up to its billing as the biggest match of the season. The Aussies dominated us during the first half, scoring tries just before and just after halftime to take a 17-7 lead. After that, the fantastically aggressive Kiwis poured on 21 unanswered points for a thrilling come-from-behind victory. It wasn't a match for the squeamish; more than one guy ended up looking like our man Rodney So'Oialo (above).

Unfortunately, rugby season is drawing to a close. I'm hoping to catch a live match when the local team (the Wellington Lions) plays here in a few weeks. Amy is quite distraught that rugby will be over soon, but I've consoled her by pointing out that college football is just getting started.

In an unexpected but welcome turn of events, I've discovered that ESPN actually broadcasts great college football games overseas (unlike back home, where the major networks get the good stuff). Next weekend's game: LSU v Auburn. I'm actually going to get the Tiger game live, even if that means I'm watching it on Sunday.

AB captain Robby Deans, left, and Rodney So'Oialo. Deans is half Jedi and half Pit Bull.

Photos from: www.rugbyheaven.co.nz

Why I Love My Job

2008-09-11T11:29:00.007+12:00

If you've followed this blog closely you could be forgiven for thinking that I like my job here because it's easy. While I love the fact that it's a pretty straightforward 9 to 5 affair (i.e. no call or weekends) I wouldn't go so far as calling it easy. The patient load is lighter than what I'm used to but I'm kept pretty busy during the day as the people I do see are typically quite unwell.

The reasons I really love this job are a bit more complex. It's just so different than what I'm used to. For example, I was signed up for "mental health orientation" the other day. Given my experience with orientations in the past, I was less than enthusiastic about this as I searched for the meeting area ( an aside: I've noticed that directions here are typically much more vague than what I'm used to. For the orientation, I was given the date and the city, but not a time or specific location. The really weird thing is that these directions are usually enough to get you where you're going).

I eventually learned that the meeting area for orientation was on the sidewalk in front of the local marae, or Maori meeting house. We had to wait on the sidewalk because entering a marae is a formalized procedure. Let me stress that this isn't some tongue-in-cheek deal, either. What followed was a full-on Maori greeting ceremony complete with a haka (that's one of those greeting dances that looks pretty threatening; see the All Blacks post below). Sure enough, the guy leading the haka was acting rather agitated but everyone seemed quite welcoming once the haka was over. I say "seemed" because the first 45 minutes of the ceremony was held entirely in the Maori language (this wasn't the first meeting I'd been to where English was the second language). The meeting had quite the tribal feel to it as the men sat in rows directly opposed to one another while the women were seated on cushions behind us.

I think you'll understand me now when I say that this wasn't what I was expecting when I arrived for orientation. It was a hell of a lot more informative and interesting than any other orientation I've ever attended, and I finished the day with a much better understanding of my Maori and Pacific Islander patients.

Another reason I've enjoyed working here is that this country is far, far less litigious than the good 'ol U.S.A. Combine this fact with an incredibly underserved patient population, et voila- you've got a huge amount of autonomy on your hands. I don't spend much time second guessing myself here and I can do whatever I think is best for my patients. Someone's OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) is too severe for them to leave home? Grab their therapist, jump in the car, and visit them at home. Not sure if a hospitalized patient will be able to get by on the outside? Send them home over the weekend and see how it goes. It's not that I'm taking big risks with my patients, it's just that I now realize that I've never been able to take smaller ones.

I think I'm scheduled for fire safety training next. I had better go have a look at my life insurance policy...

Martinborough, Cape Palliser, and the Pinnacles

2008-09-09T20:46:00.019+12:00

We took off on another trip this weekend, this time a two-night affair over the local "hills" to the quaint town of Martinborough. The drive was invigorating as it involved the most precipitous cliffs and hairpin turns we've yet experienced. Words don't really do it justice so I'll just shut up about it.

Martinborough is located smack dab in the middle of the local wine country. It's a quiet little town organized around a cute town square. The main activity is checking out the local vineyards and olive groves before relaxing in one of the many cottages. We spent a day and a half taking it easy here before setting off on a road trip to the very bottom of the North Island: Cape Palliser. Here's a pic of Amy and Amelia at the southernmost latitude any of us have ever reached (41 degrees and change):

Near the cape lies a small fishing village. My kin back home in Louisiana will be interested to hear that I've learned a new method for launching boats: hook 'em up to a bulldozer.

The locals must have grown weary of getting stuck on the beach because there are about 20 or 30 old bulldozers hooked up to the boat trailers. Many of them are painted, named, and adorned in various ways. The pink one above was named "Babe," naturally.

From the Cape it was only a short hop to the Pinnacles. These are some interesting rock formations created by about a dozen million years of erosion (pictured at the top of the page). Amelia got hot during the hike and decided to cool off by dropping her pants (photo removed as we reconsidered posting our daughter's bare bum online).

On the way out of the park we were treated to a nice sunset looking out over the Cook Strait, with the South Island barely visible in the distance (zoom in if that seems confusing).

Coming soon: why I love my job (it involves a haka) and the All Blacks take on the Aussies...

The All Blacks

2008-09-04T14:50:00.005+12:00

I caught my first full-length All Blacks match last night, during which the All Blacks beat the living hell out of Samoa 101-14 (in football scores, this would be like beating someone 73-3). Amy joined me for a pint down at the local pub to watch the match, which really touched my heart as this was our date night for the week. I am a lucky man.

Rugby happens to be the national sport of New Zealand. Now that I live here I realize that this makes perfect sense because people are of the hardy sort down here. Don't believe me? Last week I ran into two deer hunters while tramping in the Otaki Gorge. They had just finished hiking (oops, that's tramping) seven hours back from their hunting spot. I thought about this for a minute, then asked how they had planned to extricate the deer if they got one. They said, simply, "On our backs."

Seven hours through the mountains with 50 pounds of deer carcass on your back, for fun.

Right.

Anyway, there are a few different professional rugby leagues here. The All Blacks are New Zealand's national team and they are the highest ranking rubgy team in the world, which is pretty amazing given that there are only around 4 million people in this country. They are composed of the best players from all of the professional teams in NZ, so they're a bit like the rugby equivalent of the American Redeem Team (our handpicked olympic basketball team). Ergo, they have a winning record against every other rugby team in the world.

These guys are really impressive to watch. They are very fast, very strong, and very aggressive. They also perform a pregame haka which will make your hair stand on end; it makes the Hawaii football team's imitation look like a preschooler's tantrum. Check out this link to see what I mean (highly recommended if you are male, liked Braveheart, etc.).

Next week there's a huge test match against Australia and I'm not missing that one. Perhaps Amy and I will have to have two date nights, one of which doesn't involve rugby...

Oriental Bay and Otaki Forks

2008-08-31T21:21:00.009+12:00

We spent the day Saturday exploring more of Wellington, specifically the suburb of Oriental Bay. This is the priciest area of Welly and we found out why; it is a beautiful neighborhood bordering a scenic edge of Wellington Harbor. There were a few neat playgrounds as well as a beach, though it was too chilly to do anything but look at it.

Above: looking out at the harbor from Oriental Bay; below: Amelia doing her thing at the playground.

Sunday was warmer and we decided to get away from the city for a bit. We drove about 1.5 hours north along the coast (newsflash: it was really pretty) before taking a rally-inspired gravel road through the Otaki Gorge. On the way down, Amy gripped the door handle and tried to stifle her gasps. I didn't fully appreciate her situation until the drive back when I was the one nearest the edge.

The Otaki Forks area is an old mining camp from the early 1900's which is now a nature reserve. From the parking area, we crossed a swinging bridge over a nice river and started out on a short tramp (I'd call it a hike, but Amelia no longer lets me get away with it: "People only hike in America, daddy. In New Zealand it's tramping.") She should know as she's become quite a fan of tramping in the last few weeks. We spent much of the day watching her lead the way at a run:

The views of the gorge were...well, gorgeous.

At the end of the day, Amelia and Amy celebrated their accomplishment. It was well deserved as Amelia actually did hike over 2 miles by herself. Oh, and the black eye is courtesy of an accident with one of her toys in case you were wondering.

In other news, we're keeping our fingers crossed for all of our friends and family back home in La. Hopefully Gustav will end up being little more than a reason to throw a nice hurricane party...

Tramping part Deux

2008-08-25T21:21:00.013+12:00

Amy and I had heard that a seal colony could be found nearby and we decided to take advantage of another stretch of "fine" weather by taking the kids to see it. Evidently this colony is a "bachelor" seal colony consisting solely of males who have lost their bid for dominance in the breeding colonies on the South Island. This is good for us because they're less aggressive and there's no danger of stumbling between a mother and her pup.

We drove about 15 minutes to a part of the coast that's just west of town. From there is was about an hour's walk along the shoreline to the area where the seals tend to hang out. Here's a view back towards town (you can just make it out in the distance):

As we walked, Amy educated me about the history of the "bach." Pronounced "batch" (as in batchelor pad), these are small, typically humble dwellings which were built on public land as late as a few decades ago under a provision which worked rather like the US homestead act. We passed a few of these on the way. Some were cozy and others were reminiscent of concrete bunkers. Most of them were being put to good use by groups of guys who clearly loved drinking beer, riding off road vehicles (the only way to get there), and sitting in front of the fire. As you might imagine, they enjoyed some nice views given that they had chosen select spots of beachfront. I am currently looking in to building one myself. You will know I succeeded if you never hear from me again.

The walk wasn't bad. We're starting to get our technique down; Quinn rides in the pack and Amelia rides on my shoulders once she tires of running. Here's the crew celebrating Amelia's discovery of a nifty-looking shell:

We had been forewarned of the seals' scent, and indeed we began to smell them as soon as they came into view. There are about 80 fur seals in the colony, and they spent lots of time lounging around.

They are surprisingly well camouflaged for animals of their size. I suppose it helps that they hold very still most of the time. In this picture, Amelia and I are sneaking towards a big male. There are eleven seals in the following picture (remember, you can click to zoom in):

We timed the trip perfectly as the first raindrops we've seen in several days began to fall right as we drove away.

Driving

2008-08-22T22:30:00.001+12:00

One of the main things our friends from back home ask us about is how the driving is going for us. Anyone who's been to one of the countries where they drive on the "wrong" side of the road can probably empathize with the difficulty of switching all of one's reflexes. Think about it for a minute: when you get ready to cross the street, you look to your left, don't you? I wouldn't suggest trying that here.

Ditto for driving itself: everything really does feel quite backwards. I figured (wrongly) that I'd only have to get used to driving on the wrong side of the road. In fact, there are lots of things that are different. The rules for yielding are completely different, including something called the "left turn rule." I'll try to explain, and if it seems confusing then think about doing it while you're actually driving around in a state of near panic: if you're turning left and you notice that the oncoming car in the other lane is turning right, then yield to them. In other words, it is sometimes proper form to turn in front of oncoming traffic. If you ask people how you are supposed to ensure that nobody kills you while attempting this, then they'll invariably tell you to try to make eye contact with the other driver. Clever, except that it's often raining.

It's a weird feeling getting behind the wheel for the first time. It's like being 15 again: you don't have a good sense of where the other side of the car is, and you don't know where any of the buttons or signals are (try turning on your blinker and your windshield wipers come on). On top of all of this, once you finally figure out how to back out of your very tiny driveway, you're faced with really curvy roads that look something like this:

That's a two lane road, mate.

My first driving experience took place the day after we arrived. Beth, one of the psychiatrists with whom I'm working, took it upon herself to teach me how to drive to the store. She should have earned some sort of medal for this. We managed to survive with only a scraped up rim. My next few driving experiences involved Quinn screaming loudly in the backseat while I gripped the wheel tightly and tried not to kill anyone. The good news is that things improved pretty quickly as Amy and I found that we both calmed down a lot after a few hours behind the wheel. I even got the hang of the two-lane roundabout after a few days.

One wonderful thing about this city is that there simply isn't much traffic. I'm attributing this to the fact that the city is largely walkable and has great public transportation. At any rate, you can drive right through the middle of town with no problem. It's easy to drive from our house to the other side of town in 15 minutes even when the "traffic" is bad.

The upside to all of this is that it improves your driving skills dramatically. Well, at least I think it does. I'm interested to see what driving back in the US is like...

On tap for this weekend: trying to find Wellington's local seal colony, and another trip to the west coast. We'll keep you posted.

Beef Wellington

2008-08-16T21:11:00.013+12:00

Most of the neighborhoods in Wellington have a personality all their own; Khandallah has great views of the bay, Thorndon has the best grocery store, and Newtown is to be avoided at night. Our suburb, Kelburn, is known for the shops which include a well-known butcher and a few good places to eat. They're nestled tightly together, so just trust me when I say they're pretty neat even if the picture doesn't seem too exciting:

We had some guests over last night (the hilarious Scottish registrar, Chris, mentioned previously, and his equally Scottish partner, Michael). Given the foreign nature of the food in the grocery stores, we elected to keep it simple by serving steak and potatoes. Ergo, I made my first trip to the famous Kelburn butcher.

I walk in and I'm greeted by the butcher himself, an amiable, middle-aged fellow with a bit of grey hair around his temples and a hint of a lazy eye. I start off by making sure I have my terminology down: "So, back home, my favorite cut of meat is a New York Strip. Is that what they call those cuts here?"

He replies in a pretty thick accent. I don't catch everything he says but it's clear that what I'm saying isn't translating (as it turns out, a NY Strip is called a porterhouse here). I tell him I'm looking for a few New York Strips and he disappears into the cooler, which (hide your eyes, vegans) was chock full of fresh carcasses, and returns with a beautiful strip loin. I tell him that's what I'm after, and he asks, "How thick d'ya want 'em?"

Hmmmm, lemme think....1.75 inches times 2.54 centimeters per inch equals....

I hold my fingers really far apart and say, simply, "thick."

He raises his eyebrows a bit, smiles, and nods. Now we're speaking the same language.

While he's cutting the steaks he starts talking about all of the hormones, corn, and antibiotics that goes into American beef, explaining that NZ beef is grassfed (Omnivore's Dilemma readers, rejoice!). Sure enough, the meat doesn't look nearly as fatty as what I'm used to. I wonder if that means it will be tough.

He comes back a minute later with three steaks that looked like this:

I knew then that he and I were going to get along famously.

The dinner was a lot of fun, and the steaks were quite tasty and not a bit tough. Chris and Michael told us some wild stories about Glasgow, and we all enjoyed ourselves so much that we agreed to meet up next time at a local cinema where you can bring your own wine and sit on couches.

Shameless Kid Pics

2008-08-13T21:42:00.008+12:00

No stories, no witty banter, no fuss. Just a few pics of the kids taken during the last three weeks in Wellington. Click here.

One Fine Day

2008-08-11T16:31:00.012+12:00

They use the word "fine" around here to describe good weather. We hear this word routinely in weather reports (given the amount of rain we've seen, maybe "routinely" is a bit strong).

The weatherman predicted that it would turn "fine" on Saturday and stay that way through Sunday, so we decided to make the most of it by taking off on our first tramping (hiking) trip. We targeted the nearby beach at Makara because it's only about 20 minutes away and we've learned not to trust the weatherman. Makara has a reputation amongst the locals for being windy, which is kind of like having a reputation amongst the Spartans for being violent. As it turned out, though, the weather held and we were treated to some nice views of the Cook Strait and the South Island.

The cliffs were steeper than the pictures would make them seem. This, combined with the fact that we had to sneak through a section of trail closed for sheep-herding (which was, predictably, covered in sheep dung) means that Amelia's favorite new game is "sheep on a cliff." She runs around pretending to be a sheep and warning us not to step in sheep poo.

Here's a picture that deserves further explanation; Quinn waited patiently until we were at the apex of our journey before having a category 4 blowout in his diaper. He trashed most of the clothes on his lower body, so he got to wear Amelia's emergency pink cat shoes on the way home. This did not appear to agree with his sense of fashion:

Aside from this brief and understandable protest, everyone enjoyed our first go at tramping. (Below) to Amelia's left you can see the South Island, around 10 miles away. A few editing notes: due to improvements in staff training, clicking on a pic no longer takes you to a ridiculously huge version of that pic (try it!). Also, we're going to begin linking to our online picture album because loading tons of pics on this blog would make it unreadable. If you'd like to see a few more pics of our hike, for instance, you can click here.

Psychiatry in NZ

2008-08-07T21:12:00.000+12:00

They may speak some form of English here, but pretty much everything else is different. That's certainly true of my profession. I'm in the same field, obviously, but the nature of what I do has changed dramatically. I spend about half of my time in downtown Wellington at the community mental health center where I do outpatient child psych, and I spend the rest of my time in nearby Porirua at the adolescent inpatient unit.

That sounds kind of boring when I describe it. Believe me when I say that it is not.

This country has about 4.2 million people in it. I think I've met about half of the country's child psychiatrists in the last few weeks, and there aren't very many of us. This means that patients wait over 5 months for an appointment at the outpatient clinic, and people are very ill by the time I lay eyes on them.

You would expect that with such a huge demand for psychiatrists that I might feel overwhelmed, overworked, and hence very stressed. Negative. My work day usually starts at 9am. I'd say 9am sharp but that's simply not how things work over here; think Caribbean time and you'll get the idea.

When I first arrived, I was still very much in my American mindset. After a few days of wondering when things were going to get busy, I asked my Scottish registrar (i.e. resident, a psychiatrist-in-training) how much time one normally blocked off to see a patient. He looked at me strangely. I explained: "Well, back home, we'd see a new patient for about an hour and a half and we'd see a medicine checkup patient for about a half hour. So how much time should I be blocking off?"

He replied, as if explaining to a child, "As much as you need."

This didn't compute. Here I am staring at a 5 month waiting list and nobody cares how much time I spend with patients? I persisted: "Look, I really don't want anyone to think I'm lazy. Normally I'll see about 6 or 7 patients before lunch. What's normal around here?"

He smiles a bit, and with his killer Scottish accent says, "Ah, Broose, I doon't think you'll haff any bach-to-bach clinics hair, mate." (As an aside: he's the second Scot I've met in the last two weeks. They love it here because of the balmy, dry weather).

Point is, expectations are different. It's easy to get used to, though. I actually caught myself looking at tomorrow's schedule and thinking that it will be a really busy day. I'm seeing 4 patients. Don't get the wrong impression, either- I see every single patient that anyone discusses with me and I'm even calling up people to see if they need to be seen. They just operate differently- they spend a lot of time on everyone that they work with, but they don't work with as many cases.

I'll say this, though- the cases that we do see are no joke.

Keep in mind that I'm fresh out of training in the States. The first patient I saw had had a serious suicide attempt two days prior and I was seeing them in the outpatient clinic. The next patient I saw arrived at the hospital dehydrated and catatonic. I saw maybe 4 cases of catatonia in 6 years of training back home. In less than two weeks I've seen cases of obsessive compulsive disorder, bipolar disorder, and catatonia that trump anything I've ever seen or even heard of.

The severity of cases makes it tough, but there is a silver lining here. In the States, I was often required to be more of a family therapist than a psychiatrist because the ratio of family dysfunction to mental illness was higher. Here, there is basically a guarantee that everyone I see has a major mental illness, and I never spend any time wondering if I'm being useful.

This is getting lengthy, so I'll close with this: it finally stopped raining. After 17 days, we've had over 24 hours of sunshine. Hopefully the patients at my hospital are enjoying it. After all, the door there is only locked when it needs to be.

Pram down! Pram Down!

2008-08-04T20:44:00.003+12:00

About four days ago, our double pram (read:twin stroller) arrived. This represented a significant improvement in Amy's mobility given the challenge of transporting two toddlers around on foot.

Yesterday we had our weekly trip to the grocery store. Thus far this has been characterized by Quinn screaming his lungs out as I drive white-knuckled through the roundabouts on the wrong side of the road. Yesterday was much better because the learning curve for driving around here is as steep as the local hills and I now whip around with the best of them. I digress; more on driving at a later date.

Given our past experiences in the grocery store, it was decided that I would take the kids on a stroll around town in the pram while Amy shopped. It was windy and fairly chilly (but no rain, at least not that afternoon; our streak of days with significant rain continues unabated at 17.) Amelia got cold and I gave her my sweater, which Quinn proceeded to puke on. Amelia then had to pee (twice) and there aren't any readily available loos in that part of town, so I decided to train her for Mardi Gras and helped her pee in a secluded corner on the sidewalk. After about 45 minutes of passing the time in such colorful fashion, we made it back to the car and I strapped both kids in and headed off to meet Amy at the front of the store.

You may have noticed that I didn't mention picking up the pram and loading it back into the car. That's because I left it on the sidewalk, and this represented a significant decrease in Amy's mobility given the challenges of transporting two toddlers around on foot.

At least the rain cover for the "old" pram fits on the new one...

"It has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues."

2008-08-02T20:15:00.008+12:00

-Abraham Lincoln

Don't worry, Abe, you won't find many people around these parts without a vice...er, vise. I was thrilled to discover that an antique vise and anvil (who owns an anvil?) were squirreled away in the basement of our 1930's-era home. After living with a vise for two weeks I've begun to wonder how I ever managed without one in the first place. International travellers, take note; you need to bring a leatherman with you. If you are lucky enough to have both a leatherman and a vise, the world is your oyster. As it turns out, this hasn't been our only encounter with a vise in the last two weeks.

You may have heard that New Zealand is significantly less litigious than the US. This has some noticeable effects on everyday life. Amy takes Quinn and Amelia to a local co-op preschool and she was rather surprised to discover that the playroom included a shop complete with real vises, hammers, nails, and saws. Yeah. The two-year-olds here entertain themselves by nailing things together with real nails and real hammers, then sawing their creations to bits. I'll say this: they do seem to find it quite entertaining.

I'm sure there's a downside to living in such a carefree culture, but the benefits thus far are obvious. You can have more fun if there are fewer rules. Today we took the kids to the botanic gardens to play on the playground there (incidentally, we did this in the rain. For those of you keeping count, we've been here 16 days and have yet to see a single full day without rain. That's two sunny days with rainy nights and 14 days of rain). The playground is a lot of fun because it includes attractions like a zipline.

Amelia hasn't quite adapted to the reckless Kiwi lifestyle. She spotted the zipline and the following conversation ensued:

Amelia: "Mommy, what's that? I'm not doing it."

Amy: "Well, thats-"

Amelia: "I'm not doing it."

Amy: "Okay, you're not doing it. It's called a zipline."

Amelia: "I'm not doing it."

Amy: "That's fine, dear."

"Swinging in the rain..."

Book Nooks and Bug Hunts

2008-07-29T11:52:00.006+12:00

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After 10 days of blustery, gloomy weather, the sun is finally back and Wellington looks like the beautiful city we landed in again. Our house is ringed with windows which means that when it's cold and windy, it's drafty and chilly inside if we don't have the space heaters running. But on sunny days, the entire house is warmed instantly and every room is bright and happy.

While Bruce is off making money and curing people, the kids and I are spending our days exploring our new neighborhood and finding new adventures to be had. Unfortunately, the weather has been so terrible that we've had to stay close to home, but even so, we've found plenty to explore.

Amelia has discovered her new favorite reading spot, as you can see above. "This is my book nook, Mommy. You have to tell your body to balance, balance, and lean against this pole. " It's also one of the few places that Quinn can't climb to yet, so she's safe from her little brother eating her reading material.

We've also been on the search for bugs since we arrived as this is one of Amelia's and Quinn's favorite pastimes (Amelia finds them and gently picks them up, builds them homes, feeds them etc. Quinn pounces on them and unless I act quickly enough, devours them.). You can see Quinn in action below. Oddly enough, we haven't found a single bug anywhere....no ants, no flies, no bees, no roly polys, no beetles....nothing. It's winter here but even so, lots of flowers are in bloom, leaves are on trees, birds are singing...but no bugs. I have yet to spot a squirrel either, Anne and Sarah!

Our most exciting accomplishment of last week (aside from my pride in getting both children home from each of our outings without either one of them being blown away) was Amelia's first day of school. We tried out the neighborhood Playcentre which is a parent co-op preschool held in the mornings from 9:15-11:45 and is just a short walk down the street. Amelia was so delighted about the prospect of going to "real school" that she spent a full 20 minutes packing and repacking her backpack the night before we went.

When we set off the next morning, she was very sad to realize that a yellow school bus wasn't going to pick us up. And frankly, I was also quite sad when we stepped out into the pouring rain and gale force winds whipping through the neighborhood. But, we trudged on with Quinn strapped to my back and Amelia in the stroller. It's about a 10 minute walk door to door, and luckily, the rain slowed to a heavy drizzle by the time we got close to the playcentre. Still, we were soaked, and Amelia kept drying off her face b/c our hoods can't stop the wind from blowing the rain right under them. I was so proud of us for sticking it out and kept telling the kids that we were almost there and we'd be dry and cozy in no time. We arrived and I opened the gate, expecting to see all the little ones inside reading a book around a circle, or having a warm snack in the little kitchen - but, no, in fact, they were all OUTSIDE playing on the playground. Seriously. Moms, kids, and even a granddad are all standing around in the rain (the playground is not covered), playing on the playground as if there's nothing unusual about it at all. So, we pulled our hoods down tighter and pretended like we were Kiwis who like playing in the frigid rain. :) Even so, we loved our morning there and both Quinn and Amelia made themselves right at home. It was a very welcoming group of moms and children and we're hoping to enroll for 2 days a week for this term.

If the sunshine holds till after nap today, we're going to try out the Botanical Gardens this afternoon.

Food

2008-07-27T21:24:00.003+12:00

As we explore our new city, food is a top priority for us, and we've discovered some interesting differences between our US food staples and those here in NZ. The grocery stores are full of interesting new produce, odd snacks, and quirky variations of things we took for granted at home. For instance, grape jelly and black beans do not exist here, lettuce is sold brown and wilted (After 4 different grocery stores, I have yet to see a head of lettuce that I'd eat), and yet an entire 3/4 of the grocery aisle is dedicated to baked beans - spicy baked beans, baked beans with franks, baked beans in brine, baked beans in fruit sauce, baked beans in plum sauce.........and speaking of plum sauce/plum jelly. It is used without caution or warning here - I ordered a veggie burger while out and about and it was fantastic....aside from the slathering of plum jelly that it was coated in. The plum sauce/jelly seems to make it's way into everything - taco sauce, salsa, even pizza. Like most Americans, pizza is one of our most beloved go-to foods. So, after a particularly busy day, I called the pizza place just down the block:

Me: I'd like to place an order for delivery, please. One medium cheese pizza and one large pepperoni pizza please.

Pizza Place: Ok, that's one pizza with cheese and one pizza with only pepperoni?

Me: Yes, thank you.

Pizza Place: Only pepperoni on the large pizza?

Me: Yes.

Pizza Place: So, no cheese?

Me: Oh, yes, cheese and pepperoni, please.

Pizza Place: Ok - cheese and pepperoni, only?

Me: Well, yes, just cheese and pepperoni on the large pizza.

Pizza Place: So, no tomato sauce?

Me: oh - yes, I'd like tomato sauce too please.

Clearly, this was an uncommon request. And after checking out the grocery store aisles and not finding a single cheese or pepperoni pizza, it's clear that we have to expand our toppings repertoire. Perhaps ham, pineapple, and plum jelly isn't so bad after all..............

The Hottest Meal of My Life

2008-07-26T21:06:00.007+12:00

I'm kind of a hot food junkie. You know the type; I slather hot sauce over everything I eat, my wife gets upset when I'm in charge of the cooking, and I once ate the Three Mile Island buffalo wings at Hooters. I'm toning things down a bit in my old age but I'm still not afraid of a hot dish here and there.

The other day I found myself strolling through a mall around lunchtime and I thought I'd grab a quick bite to eat. The Indian food is really pretty good around here, so I opted for a nice looking Indian place and ordered the lamb vindaloo, thinking to myself that it is often a spicy dish and this improved my chances of avoiding a bland lunch.

After putting the first bite in my mouth, my brain got the following telegram from my taste buds: "Jesus Christ, Sir, there's something in your mouth that really should not be there. I can't tell if it's battery acid or molten lava, but please spit it out."

Bull, I thought, I'm committed at this point because I paid for it and I've never backed down from a meal. I carried on, and soon found that it was too painful to stop for breaks. My only choice was to pound it as fast as I could. Predictably, I was soon sweating and found myself nearly out of water. The thought actually occurred to me that I might be on the New Zealand version of Candid Camera because 1)it would have been really funny to watch me struggle through that land mine of a dish, and 2)I couldn't believe that anyone would ever serve anything half that spicy to the general public without having them sign a hold-harmless form first.

It was sort of a neat experiment because I really wasn't sure what would happen to me if I ate it all. I've had hiccups from spicy meals before, but I wouldn't have been surprised if this had caused bleeding.

I'm staying the hell away from that particular place in the future, but all this talk of Indian food makes for a nice segue into telling you a little about our suburb. Wellington is organized into suburbs, to the point that they are included in our address while a zip code is optional. Our house is about three minute's walk from the Kelburn shops (follow the link for an unimpressive but accurate panoramic view of our suburb's center). There are two Indian places that are amazing and we have budgeted 48% of our income towards dining out as a result of this.

Kelburn is located on top of a pretty serious hill, which may be more accurately desrcribed as a mountain. The views from up here are quite nice as a result. I've been meaning to do a write-up about the house, but this seems as good a time as any to show you what the views are like. Here's a pic from our kitchen window:

With that, I'm heading to bed. My stomach kinda hurts.

When in Rome

2008-07-25T20:51:00.006+12:00

So, I had my first experience with a hongi last Thursday.

First, a little background; like many western cultures, modern day New Zealand consists primarily of people of European descent who took over the native culture in not-so-subtle fashion within the last few hundred years (the Maori learned quickly; after northern tribes acquired muskets, their initial instinct was to shoot the hell out of their southern neighbors, who then acquired muskets and shot the hell out of their southern neighbors and so on, in an interesting bit of history called the Musket Wars). Unlike any other western culture I've seen, though, the Europeans (called pakeha) have since made a truly impressive effort to live alongside the native culture instead of taking it over. They really take this seriously, and Maori culture is therefore ubiquitous around here.

For example, I'm working at an inpatient unit now called the Rangatahi (youth) unit, and they have a Maori elder as part of the staff to help the Maori families acclimate to the Westernized style of medicine. There's also a Pacific Islander elder on staff for the same purpose. They bust out the guitar on a daily basis and all of the patients on the unit join in traditional Maori songs, complete with the accompanying dances. When someone is discharged from the unit, they have a traditional Maori farewell.

I happen to be working for one of the Pakeha outpatient teams, but they have teams who specialize in Maori and Pacific Islanders. They have their own set of challenges to deal with; apparently mental illness is so stigmatized in PI culture that an entire family will be shunned if people find out that a single member of a family was hospitalized. As a result, we don't see to many PI's in the inpatient unit.

It's pretty neat being exposed to other cultures which still maintain so much of their original identity. My days on the inpatient unit will begin with a hongi with the maori elder followed by our team singing a maori song. It's not what I'm used to but I guess that's why I'm here in the first place.

Break time (or is that afternoon tea?)

2008-07-23T22:21:00.004+12:00

We continue to have lots of things to take care of; we now have a high chair for Quinn and a bed rail for Amelia (try living without those for a few days) and I managed to get the computer up and running. I've run out of steam, so hopefully more to come within the next few days.

Oh, and the rain pants came in handy because it rained again today. That's 4 out of 6 days so far.

We're beat. And no, that's not pee on the couch.

PS, pic of all our luggage added below...

"Windy Welly"

2008-07-22T20:51:00.005+12:00

So much has transpired since we left home that there's little hope of covering it all adequately in one or two posts. Add to this the fact that jet lag has me waking up every morning at 5:30 and crashing by 7pm and you'll understand why I'm taking one topic at a time.

Tonight's subject: the weather. Normally this is topic is reserved for filling uncomfortable silences in conversation. Wellington's weather deserves mention, though, because it was a major concern of ours prior to moving here and it continues to have quite an impact on our lives.

Wellington is the world's southernmost capital city. It is the only capital city with the distinction of being located within the roaring forties. Sailors cringe when they hear that term, and with good reason. If you want to win a sailing race around the earth, the best way to do it is to sail south until you hit these latitudes, then hold on for dear life as the uninterrupted winds circling Antarctica whip you around the globe.

We had heard it could be windy in Wellington and we fully expected it to be freezing, rainy, and cloudy in addition. The good news is that it's not freezing. The bad news is that it is definitely windy, rainy, and cloudy. The weather really hasn't been terrible; it's just not been very good at all. For winter, it feels pretty mild. It's in the 50's and the wind can indeed be very impressive at times. The weather can change more rapidly than any place I've ever seen in my life. It routinely switches from nasty to beautiful in a span of minutes, then switches right back again.

Someone told Amy that it wasn't humid here, and that person is going to hell. We have two dehumidifiers running full time downstairs. With them, everything is fine. Without them, I'd have moved home already. It has rained everyday except yesterday (which was 75 degrees and sunny) and the wet weather shows no signs of abating though the locals assure me that the summers are quite nice. I'll just have to take their word for it. In the meantime, I'm buying myself a nice pair of rain pants (an umbrella wouldn't stand a chance in this wind).

Alive and Wellington

2008-07-21T21:02:00.004+12:00

We made it.

In retrospect, the trip over here was a lot like childbirth (from what I gather, anyway). It wasn't particularly pleasant, but the hard parts seem to fade from memory pretty quickly and we've got something pretty neat to show for it.

I'll spare you all of the details, but the trip really could have been worse. The flight to LAX was the hardest as the kids were wide awake. Quinn got bored, then vocal. Both kids crashed for a long time on the long flight to Auckland. Oh, and the guy who booked our flights was at least two hours off on the travel time; 10 hours and 40 minutes of flying will only get you to Tonga. It was more like 13 or 14 hours, but there were lots of other kids on that flight and the outstanding flight crew really helped out by letting us use a roped-off area of the plane as a nursery. I'll revisit the fact that this country is overflowing with common sense and courtesy which I find quite refreshing.

The low point of the trip occurred when we had to retrieve all of our bags to go through customs in Auckland. That means that Amy and I had to split this between us (plus Quinn, of course):

Anyway, we had very little time to make it through customs before our last flight, and they have a policy that anyone running late for a flight is asked to head straight to their gate with all of their luggage instead of checking in again. The only issue is that the domestic terminal is over half a mile away. I can't say enough about how well my wife and daughter handled this. Amelia ran the entire way hopping like a bunny, never getting the least bit upset (she cried for less than a minute during the entire trip; in return, I will buy her a pony).

From there, it was all downhill. We met one of my future colleagues on the next flight and it turns out that she went to med school with one of my best friends from residency (Kirk, it's Amy Johnson). Small world and all.

I expected Wellington to be pretty. It's gorgeous. Pictures really don't do it justice. The coastline reminds me of Hawaii with beautiful water and waves crashing over steep rocks. The hills around town are indeed very steep and the houses cling precariously to them. In typical Wellington fashion, the houses right next to ours are completely below us so that I see my neighbor's roof when I look down out of my window. The views from our house are really something.

I'm realizing that there is absolutely no way to cram everything I want to say into one post, so I'm calling it a night. Suffice it to say that we are quite happy with everything so far, and we'll tell you more soon.

Exodus

2008-07-16T13:52:00.005+12:00

Well, tomorrow is the big day. Amy and I are quite ready because we've spent a very long time preparing for it, but I'll admit that I feel about like I did the first time I went away to summer camp. I'm not talking about the two week version, either- I'm talking about the one that lasted a whole month.

Funny thing is, I'm not really that worried about whether we'll like New Zealand or whether my job will work out or whether we'll like our house. What's got me concerned is the trip there.

Re: logistics, it's a 1.5 hour drive to DC, a 5 hour flight to LA, a 4 hour layover, just under 11 hours to Auckland, and (just to rub it in) 2 hours more to Wellington. This seems pretty manageable to me given that it's a 9000 mile trip, more or less. So, what's on my mind? Why the butterflies? I'll show you:

The Mighty Quinn.

Quinn's a good kid, and he's really blossomed over the past week. You know how kids have those not-so-obvious milestones where they clearly make a rapid change even if it's not crawling/walking/potty training? Well, the boy has started to come into his own, complete with a wonderful belly laugh and a very outgoing personality. Thing is, he's still a baby.

I have very few concerns about Amelia. After months of intense brainwashing, she appears convinced that New Zealand is made entirely of candy and is populated by friendly, talking dolphins. Seriously, she seems to have a reasonable understanding of what's going on and I think she'll be up for the adventure. Aside from the fact that she is excited about the trip, we have an entire bag of loot which should keep her occupied for a while. Quinn, on the other hand, won't give a damn about our bag of goodies if things start to go bad. Oh man, do I not want to be That Guy With the Screaming Kid for the next 2 days.

We may be offline for a while while we travel/recoup/get internet service. Hopefully, we'll be able to post something within the week. Until then, lots of love to all of you. We'll miss you very much.

Departure, Barfing, etc.

2008-07-12T02:23:00.013+12:00

That's our to-do list, mostly done.

At this point we are homeless and unemployed and living in Amy's parent's house in West Virginia. They are now helping us out by letting us crash their place, and I do mean crash. We showed up with two carloads of stuff crammed into random bags along with two not-so-well rested kids. I really can't thank our families enough for all of the help they've given us; there's no way we could have pulled this off without them.

We were relieved to find that international passengers on Quantas are allowed two 70-pound bags, so we now own 5 "magnum" sized Cabela's duffel bags. We now need to figure out how much can actually be crammed into these beasts, then ship the remainder. I'm spending a lot of time talking to insurance companies: health insurance in NZ, health insurance in the US, disability insurance, homeowner's insurance, and car insurance. I know the blog takes its name from a Mallory quote, but I'm getting sick of thinking about all of the bad things that could happen to us.

On a brighter note, Quinn has more or less stopped barfing and his personality is really starting to shine. Amy and I are getting excited about the trip during the rare moment of quiet, and so far things seem to be going according to plan. I don't think I've ever had my life and possessions in such good order, and the weather is nice right now. Now, back to the to-do list.

Leaving is Painful

2008-07-05T06:39:00.005+12:00

.

This week has been interesting. For the most part, it's been better than I expected because we've somehow managed to stay on schedule. It hasn't all been easy, though; we've had to tell a lot of friends and family goodbye. It's been wonderful living in C'ville for the past 6 years and it's sad to leave everyone, even if it's only temporary (we keep telling ourselves that).

I also managed to smack my hand into my cactus while repotting it and drove a few thorns right through my fingernails. Undeterred by my experience, my buddy Shawn of positoid fame agreed to babysit my cactus while I'm gone. Only later did it dawn on us that out of all of my friends, I picked the hemophiliac with AIDS to take care of the cactus. Shawn appreciated the irony.

Mi Casa, Su Casa

2008-07-01T11:48:00.013+12:00

Well, the housing saga appears to be over. After encountering several dead ends in our housing search, we got some great news today. We'll be staying in a quirky house (of our own choosing) in the suburb of Kelburn. For those of you who know something about Wellington, that's where the cable car stops. The neighborhood is perched on the mountains surrounding Welly, so while we're only about a mile from the water it would be a pretty serious hike without the cable car. Click here to see some pics.

In addition, my parents came through big time by combining a 72-hour babysitting marathon with a home-improvement weekend. Almost everything we own has been stacked tetris-style into the basement and we'll spend the next week sleeping on a mattress and doing last minute home repairs and errands. Between the termites in our front porch, wasps in the chimney, plumbing repairs and painting, I think we'll fill the week easily.

Once more into the breach, dear friends...

2008-06-22T12:21:00.003+12:00

The very fact that this blog exists defines hubris. Right now, Amy is putting Amelia to sleep and I'm working on packing up our basement. I have 5 days to wrap up all the loose ends at work, a feat akin to cleaning the Aegean stables. We have 8 more days after that to organize all of our affairs and reduce our material possessions into 6 bags weighing 49 pounds or less. The to-do list is the stuff of nightmares. Naturally, I'm using my time wisely and setting up a blog right now, with the idea that Amy and I will maintain it over the next 6-12 months while living in New Zealand. If you're into betting, I suggest taking the under.

Oh, and a tip of the hat to Conor for encouraging us to get the blog started.

Cheers,

Bruce