New Zealand!

Here’s a thought… Let’s heavily consider eradicating New Jersey from the United States of America, and replacing it with New Zealand. Now, some of you folks might read that and think, “Oh, that Brendan and his caustic wit, at it again.” Well don’t think that. I’m serious. We all know how people feel about New Jersey: it’s the armpit of America. So let’s take a heaping portion of New Zealand deodorant and make everybody happy. Who’s with me?

I would now say “but in all seriousness,” but I was dead serious about what I said before. Anyways, I now know where I want my ashes spread when I die. They are to be effervescently sprinkled in the melted glaciers of the beautiful nation of New Zealand. Many Australians say that they treat New Zealand like the United States treats Canada. Well if that’s the case, then consider my next stop America’s hat because New Zealand is the place for me. I loved every second of the five days we spent there. From the food to the views, and from the activities we did to the drunk people I laughed at, not a single moment passed that I didn’t savor until the very last drop. I like to refer to it as an Irishman’s Florida. It’s cold, often cloudy, and there’s no Miami. It’s a win-win situation. Another great part about it was the trash can abundance. I could stand on one street corner and count five trash cans within a five second walk from where I was standing. There was even one in the cemetery. We didn’t go in there, we were just observing. Normal.

Last Wednesday, my friends Zach, Brandon (more commonly referred to as “Coop,” on account of our annoyingly similar names), Iain, and myself met up near campus around 1pm. It was a stark, rainy, gloomy day that was blanketed with a horrendous humidity that made my shirt wetter than a glass of water. We took a cab to the train station with a jolly old driver and hopped on the train for our approximately two hour train ride to the international terminal of Brisbane Airport. As we got our carry-on luggage weighed, Zach had to unfortunately sacrifice comfort for weight, when he was forced to layer on three t-shirts, and shove all of his toiletries into his over-pocketed jacket. Let the fun begin!

After a bite to eat in the airport and a few short games of Skip-Bo, the four of us boarded the plane and were taking off for the city of Christchurch, New Zealand. Because we were traveling with time, it was about 1am by the time we landed and made it through security. The New Zealand dollar works even more in the American dollar’s favor too, so that was a perk for sure. We made our way over to the Hertz Car Rental desk and got everything into place. As we walked out into the frigid “Kiwi” (adjectival form of something from New Zealand) air and saw our breath for the first time since last March, we knew we had made it. That’s when we laid eyes on Gloria, our beautiful lady in red. Gloria was a 2009 Toyota Corolla hatchback. She was such a gem. I miss her. We threw our luggage in the trunk, put the car in drive and we were off the Base Backpackers, our hostel for the night. After about a half hour of searching for a street that did not exist on our map, we followed a cab driver to the hostel, Amazing Race style. This hostel was hurtin’ for certain. It was a dilapidated old building with squeaky floors, leaky roofs, gender-bending clientele, and some raunchy graffiti that I won’t detail.

We took a few moments to soak in the culture that was seeping through the oversized cracks on the walls, and went to bed. We slept for the length of a moderately long movie, and were up and on the road by 7am. We grabbed a quick bite to eat at a fancy lookin’ McDonald’s and we were officially on our way down the South Island of New Zealand to Queenstown. It was about a 6 hour drive to our destination that was jam-packed with views you see on postcards and a playlist one could only dream of creating on his own. Let me just enlighten you on some of the Grammy hungry radio tunes our ears were kissed with while in New Zealand:
-“Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus
-“Ignition (Remix)” by R. Kelly
-“Love Shack” by The B-52’s
-“Soul to Squeeze” by The Red Hot Chili Peppers
-“Call Me” by Blondie
-“Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” by The Police
-“You Can Call Me Al” by Paul Simon
-“Play That Funky Music” by Wild Cherry
-“Life After Love” by Cher
-“Bailamos” by Enrique Iglesias
-“Truly, Madly, Deeply” by Savage Garden
-“When Doves Cry” by Prince
-“Karma Chameleon” by Culture Club
I know, just when you think one song in this compilation of crooners is enough, the next one tops it. We really had a great time with Gloria’s radio. We stopped about once every hour to take pictures of the seemingly fake views and to stretch our legs. We eventually drove to Lake Tekapo. It was a lake that we figured out was filled with the melted snow from the exiting winter. The water was as blue as Gatorade Frost Glacier Freeze. It was literally the same exact color. Nestled in the towering mountains of the Kiwi landscape, the lake provided us with an opportunity to take a ridiculous amount of pictures in a very short period of time. I think I had already over 80 pictures before we even arrived in Queenstown.

We rolled into the city by about 2pm and found our hostel. It was another Base Backpackers right in the heart of Queenstown that was exponentially better than our previous hostel, except for the elevator that was decorated like a torture chamber from one of the Saw movies. Once we walked in our room our jaws dropped with our bags when we saw that we got a corner office with a view you couldn’t even make up on your own. Another good thing was that the gym was right next door, so we… looked at it all week. We grabbed some pizza from the local pie shop and were getting ready for our first activity. If any of you are familiar with the most recent installment of “The Dual II” on the MTV the kids are watchin’ these days, you might remember a few of the activities the cast did that we also got to do. The luge was our first one. The two course options (scenic and advanced) sent us swerving and curving around hairpin turns to a finish line at the base of the chairlift that brought us back up. We got five rides included in our package, and I’d pay for 50 more. It was so much fun and a great way to get a jump start on our fun filled week of extreme stuff. I think if everywhere that had an airport in the world had a luge by the runways, there would be a lot less jet-lagged people on the roads. Food for thought, world. After our luge rides were over we took about 500 pictures and headed back down for some leftover pizza and a movie called “Taken” before we went to bed before our next even bigger day.

Friday was finally here and I was in love. We were awake and heading to “The Station” two blocks down by 10am. We arrived and checked in for out A.J. Hackett bungy jump package. They weighed us and gave us each questionnaires about our health conditions and all that hoopla. Knowing I was going to be bungy jumping from a high platform, I felt compelled to ask how close I was going to be to the sun, as some health issues may have risen depending on the answer, but I found the strength to refrain from such a question. By about 10:30 were on a bus heading to the bungy site about 40 minutes away. We got to revisit some of the countryside from our drive in on the way before turning off the main road onto a gravel path that took us up the side of a mountain. I don’t know how high we were but we were up there when we arrived at the bungy site. They wasted no time briefing us and we were on the basket thingy slowly moving out to the bungy “pod” in no time. Iain was up first. Without an ounce of hesitation he pounced off the platform like a leopard on its prey. I was next. I made quick friends with the guy who was strapping me in, as his name was Sully as well. I thought, “Really? Your name is Sully too? Well why don’t you shut up and make sure I don’t die, sir.” I didn’t say it, but I thought it. I smiled for one last picture before Sully had me waddle my way over to the jumping platform. Pringle, you might be happy to know that I got to work on my starts in New Zealand, except instead of diving into a pool, it was into a 140 meter deep abyss of nothing but air. Sully counted down from “3”… “2”… “1…” and then my whole life flashed before my eyes and I was like, “I’ve never been to Disneyland… not yet Jesus…” and then I came to and I was falling 140 meters straight down to the earth, with nothing but a bungy chord tied to my ankles and liiiiittle bit of pee in my pants. Just kidding, I didn’t really pee myself. I actually wasn’t even nervous. I just did it (Nike). I don’t know how familiar some of you are with distances and depth perception, but let me enlighten you. When Michael Phelps whizzes down the pool once during the Olympics, that’s 50 meters. Twice? That’s 100 meters. I think you understand the gist of it now. We plummeted to the bowels of this canyon almost three times the length of an Olympic-sized pool. It was insane. I would do it again in a heartbeat. By far, it was one of the coolest things I have ever done, and it wasn’t even noon!

We were driven back to our hostel by 12:30 when we grabbed some grub. In that it was fish and chips Friday, a fish burger was on the menu for lunch. Furthermore, considering I was a little timid to eat something for breakfast in an attempt not to barf all over myself, the lunch was gone in a matter of five minutes. By 3, we were awaiting out next activity: The Shotover Jet boat. This was one of the “Fast Forwards” a few seasons ago for all of you fellow “Amazing Race” enthusiasts. It is essentially a super fast boat that can travel up to 80 kilometers per hour. The driver takes the riders through the pristine waters, just barely dodging fallen trees and rocks that jetted out into the boat’s path. Throw in there some splashes from the water below and some 360 degree turns and you got yourself the ingredients for a recipe I like to call a good time. Our eyes and mouths were a little dry after the ride from the wind blowing in our faces and through our luscious locks of hair. The ride itself was a little short for my liking, but the length of the ride was completely full of thrills. It was great. Day number two was coming to an end, so we headed back to the room and caught “88 Minutes” on the movie channel before we passed out.

On Saturday morning, Zach and I were scheduled to do a canyon swing. This activity was also on “The Dual II” on the MTV. Explaining it is a little tricky, but you essentially are a pendulum after you fall off a ledge into a canyon. There are certain “types” or “styles” of jumps the crew offers you to choose from before your turn comes. I decided I wanted to go first, and I was going to do “The Chair.” After you are all harnessed up, they strapped me into one of those white plastic backyard chairs and slid me over to the edge of the platform. They explained the technique of successfully maneuvering the fall. After all of the information was relayed to me, they had me lean back for a picture that was taken above my head. While I was looking at the camera, one of the blokes tased my hand with an electric shock that ran up my arm. The noise I made as a result was something I’m not certain I could ever repeat. It was really something special. After the picture they began a cordial conversation with me. They seem to want to be friends! Score! I fell for it. They tell me to lean back one more time to make sure I got the technique down and I do. They say “Good…” and just as they get to “job,” they let go and I’m gone. I did a back flip or two and I’m falling down swinging to and fro in the depths of a canyon. It was awesome. I thought my hands were going to fall off though. But any canyons swing is certainly worth gangrenous limbs. Who needs ‘em? Zach’s turn was a few minutes after mine. He chose to do the backwards jump accompanied by a little disco flair on the way down.

After we had all done our jumps and made our purchases, the Scottish lad drove us back into Queenstown. Zach and I headed to the hostel and got a quick rest in before our final organized activity. At 2pm we were picked up to go river boarding. For all of you swimmers out there, river boarding is basically an hour and a half kick set, with fins, a full body suit, and a helmet. We were all given a boogie board each, and went through the training in about 20 minutes. After that we were off and down the river dodging treacherous rocks and soldiering through rough rapids. One of the coolest parts about rover boarding is called a “spit,” which is when you push down on your board right before a rapid and if you catch it right, you are shot forward under water before you even know what hit you. River boarding was quite the workout, so Coop and I took every opportunity we had to take a few gulps of the water we were submerged in. I’m sure Iain would have enjoyed it too if he wasn’t so busy trying to get Zach off his legs so he could kick. When river boarding was over the leader asked us if we wanted to go to the “hot springs.” Naturally we all said yes. They took us on about a half hour drive and dropped us off at a little Colorado-like hot tub place. It was awesome. We walked into our room and saw a hot tub that was overlooking the Kiwi mountains. There was a garage door that retracted so the crisp. Mountain air was at our nostrils. It was the perfect finish to something as tiring as river boarding. As many of you may know, I loathe hot tubs, but I took one for the team. When in Rome… After drying off and getting dressed, there were hot dogs waiting for us upstairs. They might have been waiting for about two hours, but food was food at that point. I would have eaten anything, as long as it came with, yup, you guessed it… AMERICAN MUSATARD. You never really know how much you miss something until you don’t have it anymore. As much as I miss my family, friends, and my dog, there’s something about a hot dog smothered in mustard that trumps everything else.

Saturday night was our night to go out on the town. We got back to the room, showered, and pounded a Red Bull before any feelings of tired could overcome us. We went to dinner at Sombrero’s, because if you go to New Zealand, you should try their Mexican food. That motto is pretty much echoed in the back of my head when I go anywhere ever. You wanna hear a small world story do ya? Well here you go. When our waitress asked us where we were from we all said Massachusetts, Oregon, Chicago, and Iain said Michigan. The waitress replied with a “Oh, I know some people from Traverse City.” I don’t know if it was the margarita talking for me but I got pretty excited, maybe too excited. That’s where Iain’s from. Small world! Who knew!? After dinner, we went to a bar called The Thirsty Ram and had ourselves some beers and laughs. Most of these laughs came from watching people. There’s something about drunk people that has always made me laugh. My favorite thing to see while out on the town is a really drunk person who is being helped by his equally as drunk friend. That’s funny, but it gets funnier. Imagine that same situation, but drunky #1 is dressed up as the guy from “Scream,” and drunky #2 is wearing a tight, bright pink VeggieTales t-shirt and a tutu. It was a real knee-slapper. The rest of my night was sprinkled with losing games of pool, winning games of pool that I cheated in, and a whole can of Pringles.

Sunday was our day to do whatever we want. We woke up at around 11am and headed to the infamous Fergburger for lunch. The burgers were amazing. White Hut still has my heart, but these guys were definitely top five. Zach eventually decided to go on a bike ride, while Iain, Coop, and I decided to go exploring. We wanted to get as high as we could (in terms of elevation). We found a road that went up the side of a mountain to a ski area and we drove it. We drove it like it’s never been driven before. We got a good amount of the way up when we realized we were losing the view so we took the opportunity to take some pictures of where “The Dual II” eliminations were and do some graffiti on some contraption we found. The roads were windy and the weather was… windy, so we headed back down for some dinner and packing before our departure the next morning.

“Valkyrie” was the night’s movie, and I spent most of it buried in my pillow. We all did our packing as the credits rolled across the screen and we nodded off to sleep. Monday morning we made the drive from Queenstown to Christchurch in five hours. If any of you are looking for a good oblique workout, I suggest you take a ride through the countryside of New Zealand. They really haven’t grasped the geometric concept of “that fastest way from point A to point B is a straight line.” We boarded our flight at about 4:30pm. I think this flight was the designated trans-Tasman Sea flight of baby transportation. There were 4 babies within an arms length of our seats, none of those 4 babies being quiet ones. The awesome part was they were fine the whole flight, and only cried when we had to turn off our electrical devices. I love kids, and MYOPs. We were back on the Gold Coast by about 8:30pm. As we hadn’t had Mexican food in 18 hours, we headed to our favorite hole in the wall Mexican cantina for dinner and headed our separate ways before we had to get back into the routine of things the next day.

New Zealand is made for me. I loved every single moment we were there. Even when Zach ruined the end of “Taken” for me. Just kidding. But seriously. I loved it. I want to go back right meow. I never thought I would ever be upset to be on a plane that landed in Australia. Oh well, good thing I won’t be here for long. I’m leaving for Fiji Friday morning suckaaaaaas. I miss you all! Don’t forget to comment! Don’t forget to vote! Swim fast Bears!

I love you!

-Bren/Sully/Dangy/Buddha/Brendan