We've Moved

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....

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)

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

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.

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

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

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

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!