Due to some delays on our flight from Munich to Prague, Nicole, Brandon and I arrived at the airport with approximately a half hour to make it through security and on to our connecting flight back to JFK. After sprinting through the airport, we arrived at the gate just as they were making the final call. Slightly sweaty and out of breath from my unanticipated airport marathon (running is always tougher when it is done in a spur of the moment fashion, while wearing flip flops), I boarded the plane. Eager to get settled into my seat and make myself comfortable, my eyes browse the aisles ahead, and I notice every seat was full, except one. The window seat next to an obese man (I am not certain to his exact weight, but 500 pounds seemed like an appropriate approximation). I sucked in my stomach as best I could and uncomfortably rubbed against the man in an attempt to reach my seat. Due to his size, the arm rest was unable to come down, and the man was overflowing onto half of my seat. Luckily, despite my weekend of binge drinking and eating endless potato dumplings, I managed to slide cozily into what was left of my seat. The remainder of the flight was spent cuddling up with the stranger who sat next to me and attempting to eat my in-flight meal while balancing the tray in the air, since I could not open up my tray table.
I am not one to complain, but now I am faced with a moral dilemma. Should overweight people be charged extra for an additional seat when purchasing plane tickets? Before my experience on the flight, I would have been the first one to stand up for the passengers that, how should I put it...have a little extra baggage. I would have argued that it is unfair to charge them more than other passengers, for a problem that may be uncontrollable. However, after paying full price for a plane ticket and being forced to squeeze my right butt check into the small slot between the window and the seat, my views are slightly altered. If I payed full price for a plane ticket, is it unfair to only have half of a seat? In that case, the ticket should have been half price. It would make sense that a person that takes up more than one seat should be required to pay for more than one ticket.
I wrote an email to Czech Airlines explaining the situation and received a letter in the mail apologizing for the inconvenience, but stating that there was nothing they could do about it.
How are airlines supposed to solve this problem? My friend recently sent me the following article, which I found to be interesting (http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE60S0N520100129). According to the article, Southwest Airlines and United Airlines have a policy where "oversize" people need to buy a second seat and claim a refund if the plane is not full. I think this might be the best option I have currently seen.
How, one might ask, is it to be determined whether or not a passenger requires extra space? I believe the answer lies in the arm rest: if the arm rest must be up for a passenger to sit, the passenger does not fit in their allotted seat and should consider purchasing another ticket, for both themselves and the sake of the poor person stuck up against the window.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Last few days on the other side of the world...
I decided to try couchsurfing on my own the first two nights to save some money. After having attended numerous couchsurfing events and couchsurfing once with Dan in New Zealand I thought I was ready to try it on my own. I stayed with Zee, a guy in his early thirties recommended to me by Dan. Zee was a great host- he picked me up at the bus station, showed me the best places to eat around town and even offered to give up his own bed so I didn't have to sleep on the futon in the living room. I couldn't possibly take his own bed away from him so I spent my two nights sleeping on the futon with his two cats at my feet. I couldn't have asked for a better host my first time couchsurfing alone.
My last few days have been spent actually going into all the shops that I forced myself to pass during my time in Sydney. I spent less money than I anticipated during my time here, so I had some extra to spend. Turns out the shops that had looked so great as I sadly passed them by, weren't that great afterall. Most trends here evolve from the States and Australia seems to be just a few months behind.
Wednesday night I checked into the cheapest hostel I could find in Central Sydney. After a full day of shopping I cooked some dinner and went to the room to read (I have become an avid reader- book exchanges are great!) Apparently I must have passed out as I was reading because the next thing I remember is a guy walking in the room and saying hello, and me somehow replying from a subconscious state. He asked if he woke me and I replied "no" so he continued talking. He then asked if I were traveling alone and I replied "no" and began searching the room confused as to where Dan had gone because I had just been talking to him. This is when I realized that I had been having a dream where in it I was talking to Dan. I must have been awoken half-way through my dream, thus making me confused. But not as confused as the guy I was talking to. The guy looked around the room until I corrected myself and told him that I was traveling alone. I tried to redeem myself and prove I wasn't nuts by continuting the conversation in a now awake state. I asked what time it was and he replied that it was midnight and he was on his way out and he asked if I wanted to join. I don't know what provoked it, but for some reason I replied "yes." We ended up going to a local backpackers bar and having a great time. Today I will spend most of the day shopping for souveneirs before I return home tomorrow. My flight leaves Sydney at 10:15am Sydney time and after 22 hours somehow arrives in NY at 5:15pm. Thus making it the longest day of my life...
Monday, May 11, 2009
Almost time to return home...
Some things I miss about home...- not sharing a room with eight other people
- real orange juice
- scooter
- free internet
- my cell phone
- wheat thins
- baseball games
- nights in NYC
- MOES
- central park
- bagels and pizza
- the rest of my clothes
...and of course my family and friends
Some things I will miss about Australia...
- kangaroo- cole's and woolworths
- gelatisimo
- endless supply of free water in restaurants
- australians
- hopping on the bus to go to the beach
- light 'n tasty apple cereal
- hyde park
- random pick-up soccer matches
- surfing
- walking everywhere
- small beach towns
- rugby matches
- not having to tip
- the word "capsicum"
- cheap asian food
- book exchanges
- not having a one cent coin
- wearing a bathing suit everyday under my clothes, just in case
- $1.40 coconut buns from chinatown
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Trip up the coast continued
Sailing the WhitSundays
After our overnight bus ride we had a day to relax in Airlie Beach before departing the next day for our "3 Day, 2 Night, Sailing Adventure." The next morning we boarded what was to be our home for the next three days. It was my first time sailing, so I was unsure what to expect as I boarded a sailboat that seemed a little too small for 27 people. We were given a tour of our boat (which didn't take too long) and shown our beds. I was a little worried at first about the lack of air ventilation on the lower level where we'd be sleeping, but once I saw my bed I discovered that was the least of my worries. My bed was just wide enough to fit me (good thing I haven't put on weight), but about six inches from the ceiling. Having a slight case of claustrophobia, this was going to pose as a problem.After two full days of sailing and snorkeling I managed to become tired enough that I could crawl into bed and close my eyes right away, pretending as if I were somewhere else. I would fall asleep quickly but then I would awake in the middle of the night and realize where I was. One or two times each night I had to climb (or rather roll) out of bed, hyperventilate a bit, debate sleeping on the hard wooden benches outside in the rain, and force myself to get back in. It was a relief when the engine came on each morning at 6am waking everyone up. The discovery of bed bugs on the second night made me very happy that we didn't have another night at sea. I know it's bad when I can't wait to once again sleep on a hostel bed. However, despite my sleeping issues, sailing during the day was great. The water was a teal blue color unlike anything I have ever seen and the islands were beautiful.
From the WhitSundays we departed on our last full day bus ride to Cairns. After sailing for three days the last thing I wanted to do was set foot on a boat, but our next activity was two days and one night on the Great Barrier Reef (an activity I had been looking forward to my entire time in Australia). A little speedboat took us on a 2 hour ride to where our boat was stationed. I boarded the speedboat completely dry and exited it looking as if I had just come out of the shower fully clothed. The boat was much larger than the sailboat we had previously been on, so I was a bit relieved. After eating lunch we were given some snorkeling directions and not before long we were in the water snorkeling. The Great Barrier Reef was amazing, fully living up to my expectations. It was surreal floating above the reefs as an onlooker into a totally different world underwater. 
After two nights of not being able to sleep, Dan and I were excited when we were shown our air-conditioned room with normal beds, pillows and even blankets (we hadn't seen a blanket in a while). Our excitement was short lived when they informed us that we had chosen to stay over on a "refuel night"- the one night a month that the boat travels 8 hours to Cairns and back in order to refuel. As a result most of the night was spent gripping onto the bed in an attempt not to fall off. The other part of the night was spent attempting to keep the food that I had eaten during the day where it belonged.
The next morning we were given the option to try an introductory dive for $55. The instructor informed us how she would take us underwater to practice a few things and see how we felt and then once we were underwater for a bit we would then choose whether or not to pay to continue the dive. Being the cheap (or as I like to say, frugal) person that I am, I decided beforehand that I would try the dive to see what it was like and then cut out before I had to pay (unless for some reason I was having the best time ever). We got into our wetsuits and sat down as the oxygen tanks were attached to our backs. We were shown the underwater symbols to say that we were alright, or that we wanted to go back up to the surface. We were shown how to hold onto the tip of our nose while breathing out to equalize the intense pressure on our ears. We were even shown what to do if the oxygen tube came out of our mouth or we got water in our goggles. Weights were attached to our waist to help pull us down once we got in the water. Once all the equipment was in place we jumped into the water and gripped hold of our instructor. She slowly lowered us down under the water by deflating things that I didn't even realize were attached to me and adding weights onto me. Not before long we were underneath the ship holding onto a bar. And that's when it hit me...an uneasy feeling that one might call panic. Here I was under the water breathing through a tube. The feeling was unnatural to me, and although exciting, not a feeling I particularly enjoyed. I calmed my breathing down a bit and gave the instructor the symbol that I was doing OK. Now it was time to practice some of the things that we had learned earlier on the boat. She pulled the oxygen cord out of her mouth and gestured for us to do the same. There was no way in hell I was pulling that out of my mouth. I gave her a thumbs-up, the symbol meaning I wanted to go back to the surface. That was all it took to decide that diving was not for me. Perhaps if it were free I would have stuck it out, but it wasn't worth it to me to spend the next half hour more concerned about my life than the fish and coral that were surrounding me. At least I gave it a try.
Tonight we fly back to Sydney where I will spend my last week before coming home. It’s crazy how fast time flies.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
And so begins my trip up the coast...
After doing a lot of research I found an 18 day tour up the coast of Australia for a pretty good bargain so I booked it a few weeks ago and Dan decided to come along. Wednesday morning Dan and I left Sydney on a ten hour bus ride to Wollongong.
Once we arrived we were transported to surf camp where we spent the first two days of our trip. We were exhausted from a mix of jet lag and waking up at 530am to catch the bus, so when we found out that our first surf lesson would be at 7am the following morning we were slightly caught off guard. We were woken up at 6am the next morning to a knock on the door of our hostel hut. Shortly after breakfast we were given wet suits and made our way to the beach which was a short walk away. Aside from a short theory lesson we spent most of the time in the water practicing standing on the board.
After three lessons I have become pretty confident standing on the surf board. I still need major work turning because for some reason I can only turn left, but I guess I'll just work on that more in the future. Until then, surfers that happen to be on my left should watch out!
Byron Bay
Surfer's Paradise
From Surfer's Paradise we departed for another full day bus ride. We arrived at Hervey Bay around dinnertime and were told we would be meeting the following morning at 6am to depart for Fraser Island (good thing I am a morning person!) on our 3 day, 2 night camping safari. Fraser Island is the largest sand island in the world and the eastern most point in Australia. Before departing we met the 20 other people we would be spending the next 3 days with. We were separated into two camper vans, each with 11 people. After electing certain team members to go food shopping we sat through a video about safety on the island. Apparently there were two deaths just a week earlier on the island from a camper van overturning. We would be off-roading in a 4x4 so toppling over is not that uncommon. I paid very close attention on how to avoid dingos, where to swim to avoid sharks, and even learned how to properly bury any personal waste products deep under the sand and 5m from a stream. Unfortunately I couldn't drive because I don't know how to drive stick shift (which is now on my list of things to learn!), but just sitting inside while the van drove through sand, rocks and water was pretty exhilarating.
The days were spent relaxing in the sun, swimming in clear water lakes and playing soccer and frisbee. The nights (which began at 6pm since the days started at sunrise- we could only drive during low tide) consisted of drinking "goon" (boxed wine) on the beach and playing card games. The island was absolutely gorgeous, the weather beautiful and the stars unlike anything I have ever seen. Sleeping without a pillow was a little tough but I managed.
Our van with a mix of English, Scottish, Swedes, Norwegians, Israelis, Canadians and Americans (Dan and I) got along really well and after doing everything together for 3 days bonded a lot. At the end I was thankful to finally shower the sand out of my hair, but I didn't want to leave, especially not for a 12 hour overnight bus ride to Airlie Beach.
Surf Camp
Once we arrived we were transported to surf camp where we spent the first two days of our trip. We were exhausted from a mix of jet lag and waking up at 530am to catch the bus, so when we found out that our first surf lesson would be at 7am the following morning we were slightly caught off guard. We were woken up at 6am the next morning to a knock on the door of our hostel hut. Shortly after breakfast we were given wet suits and made our way to the beach which was a short walk away. Aside from a short theory lesson we spent most of the time in the water practicing standing on the board. 
Byron Bay
Friday night we spent the night in Byron Bay, a town inhabited by tons of 18 year-olds with their parent's credit cards. The town and beach was beautiful.
Surfer's Paradise
The next morning we left for Surfer's Paradise, a place that manages to live up to its name.
Camping on Fraser Island
From Surfer's Paradise we departed for another full day bus ride. We arrived at Hervey Bay around dinnertime and were told we would be meeting the following morning at 6am to depart for Fraser Island (good thing I am a morning person!) on our 3 day, 2 night camping safari. Fraser Island is the largest sand island in the world and the eastern most point in Australia. Before departing we met the 20 other people we would be spending the next 3 days with. We were separated into two camper vans, each with 11 people. After electing certain team members to go food shopping we sat through a video about safety on the island. Apparently there were two deaths just a week earlier on the island from a camper van overturning. We would be off-roading in a 4x4 so toppling over is not that uncommon. I paid very close attention on how to avoid dingos, where to swim to avoid sharks, and even learned how to properly bury any personal waste products deep under the sand and 5m from a stream. Unfortunately I couldn't drive because I don't know how to drive stick shift (which is now on my list of things to learn!), but just sitting inside while the van drove through sand, rocks and water was pretty exhilarating.
The days were spent relaxing in the sun, swimming in clear water lakes and playing soccer and frisbee. The nights (which began at 6pm since the days started at sunrise- we could only drive during low tide) consisted of drinking "goon" (boxed wine) on the beach and playing card games. The island was absolutely gorgeous, the weather beautiful and the stars unlike anything I have ever seen. Sleeping without a pillow was a little tough but I managed. Our van with a mix of English, Scottish, Swedes, Norwegians, Israelis, Canadians and Americans (Dan and I) got along really well and after doing everything together for 3 days bonded a lot. At the end I was thankful to finally shower the sand out of my hair, but I didn't want to leave, especially not for a 12 hour overnight bus ride to Airlie Beach.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
New Zealand
Tuesday
Looking back on my week spent exploring the North Island of New Zealand with Dan, I can honestly say that it was one of the most thrilling, yet exhausting weeks of my life. We left Tuesday morning, a little later than anticipated after our Aerolineas Argentinas flight was delayed three hours and arrived in Auckland, NZ, at a time unbeknownst to both myself and Dan (with all the flight announcements in Spanish and our new philosophy of “not planning ahead” we were unsure of the time difference between New Zealand and Australia). The enter flight was spent playing poker (my new favorite card game) and we lost track of time before the flight was over.
We picked up our APEX rent-a-car (a silver station wagon) and drove into the city of Auckland. Auckland was a lot smaller than I had imagined and the streets were pretty empty even for a Tuesday night. We explored a bit and judging by the lack of people around concluded that it must be late. We drove around to find an abandoned parking lot and although neither of us was tired, we forced ourselves to go to sleep. I should have mentioned earlier that I was trying to save as much money as possible on this trip so the car also served as a bed for the night.
Wednesday
Wednesday morning we awoke pre-sunrise, somewhat confused. We still had no idea what time it was since our GPS, cell phones, and Dan’s laptop all said different times. We eventually figured it out to be 3am and went back to sleep for a bit. Around 9am we left to drive south to Rotorua and spent the day viewing the “hot bubbling springs,” or in other words, piles of boiling mud that smelled like a mix of rotten eggs and horse manure. From Rotorua we made our way to Taupo for dinner. Taupo is a popular tourist destination for the lake and surrounding city. After dinner we continued to Hawkes Bay where we decided to find a place to stay for the night. The GPS directed us to a small little motel that luckily happened to have one room available for a ridiculously cheap price.
Thursday
We slept in Thursday (which in my terminology means we slept until 9:30am) and spent the day in the bayside town of Napier. Napier is a cute little town with tons of shops and cafes and beaches with black pebbles in place of sand. We left Napier around 2pm because we had to be in Wellington by 5:30pm. We had made one plan for our trip which was to couchsurf in Wellington and we had told our host we would be there at that time. CouchSurfing.com is a website for travelers who open their couches up for other like-minded travelers to stay. During my time in Sydney I had participated in some couchsurfing events and met some amazing people, so I thought New Zealand would be a good time to give it a try. Dan had couchsurfed before and all his experiences had gone well. Wellington is located at the southern-most point of the North Island and was about a 3 hour drive away.
About a half-hour into our drive we drove past what appeared to be hitchhikers on the side of the road (their outstretched hands with their thumbs out might have given it away). I was going too fast to stop short in the middle of the highway, but after passing them a sudden excitement came over me.
“What if we go back and pick them up?” I suggested. Without giving Dan much time to think, I made a U-turn and was on my way. A few seconds later Dan agreed that it would be a good idea.
The hitchhikers were in their early 20s from London and needed a lift south to exactly where we were going. Ollie and Christian (as we later learned they were called) told us about their travels around the world and plugged their iPod into our radio to share some music with us. The chatting continued the entire way as they told us about prior hitchhiking experiences and how the lady before us just dropped them off in the middle of the highway. We exchanged email addresses and dropped them off at their destination a few minutes prior to our own. Afterwards Dan thanked me for coming up with the idea to pick them up. I thanked him for agreeing to it without much hesitation.
We arrived to our couch surfing host’s house a little late after some unsuccessful turns down walkways and one-way streets but Llew, our host, didn’t seem to mind. He was outside brewing beer when we arrived and showed us the pullout couch we would be staying on. Llew was a very friendly guy originally from Canada, but now a permanent resident of New Zealand. We ended up spending two nights at Llew’s place. I tried a few home brewed beers and learned how to play some nerdy board games that I never knew existed. Dan already knew to play some from his time spent at M.I.T. but I guess that’s not what I learned during my weekends at Wagner. I did discover that board games designed specifically for adults are great though and I may secretly buy a few for the future. Wellington was bigger than I expected and the museum was great and rose gardens were beautiful.
Saturday
I had my heart set on bungee jumping during our week in New Zealand, but Dan had slightly different plans. My view on bungee jumping was simple. To me, bungee jumping was quite possibly the scariest thing I could ever do. The idea of standing atop a bridge looking down with nothing except a cord between myself and the ground scared me more than anything else.
And that is the exact reason I had to do it.
Dan viewed it from the opposite perspective of questioning why he would do something that he had no desire to do. He decided that he would look up the statistics and other information before he made his decision. I told him that I didn’t want to hear any of the facts he read until it was over.
The first part of the drive was surprisingly relaxing. The beautiful scenery along the drive took my mind off what exactly I was driving towards. It was not until we saw the first sign that my heart started beating a little stronger than usual. Mokai Gravity Canyon, the highest bridge jump in New Zealand, 15 minutes. Figures I would choose the highest bridge jump in the entire country. I had put much thought into picking out the perfect jump location. I wanted to jump off a bridge with water below to somehow make myself believe that if my cord broke I would still have a chance at surviving, knowing full well that hitting water would be just as deadly as land. I chose the highest jump because if I was going to do it, I might as well do the highest I can find.
As we drove closer and closer, Dan continued to read on his laptop. Occasionally he would exclaim something or chuckle to himself, making me curious about what he was reading, but I decided it was better I didn’t know. I was going to jump no matter what. I was relieved when he told me that he was going to jump too. The statistics must not have been all too bad. The signs continued to count down in minute increments each one making me more nervous than the last. Arriving at the site, signing waivers, being weighed and placed in my harness seems like a blur to me. Before I knew it we were out on the bridge getting ready to jump. We had previously decided that I would jump first since I wanted to get it over with and Dan didn’t really care either way.
I stood quietly as three women attached a bungee cord to me, going through a series of routine checks in preparation for the jump.
“OK so you’re going to make your way out to the edge so that your feet are in the marked place and place your arms out to the side. Then I will yell 3, 2, 1, Bungee and you jump.”
Sounded simple.
“OK go ahead” she instructed.
“Holy shit, this is really happening,” was all I could think as I approached the edge. I could feel the tension of the cord pulling me forward closer and closer to the edge. Without a moment’s hesitation I hear…
“3, 2, 1, Bungee!”
And I jump.
I have no recollection of my brain signaling to my body to jump. The second seems almost surreal. Before I knew it I was plummeting to the water below me, and less than two seconds later I was defying gravity bouncing back up towards the bridge. I bounced several times as all the blood slowly made its way to my head. My head felt like it was encompassing half my body weight before I was lowered down to a raft below me. I sat down on the raft and watched Dan jump from the river below (or rather the rocks covered by about two inches of water).
After our jumps we were placed on a seat and pulled back up to the bridge.
We had bungee jumped and lived to tell about it.
The adrenaline rush that we felt as we jumped was almost impossible to describe, but we attempted to talk about it as we sat waiting to watch our videos. After sitting and waiting for what seemed like a little longer than we were supposed to, a bungee instructor came over to us with some news.
“Diane, for some reason we don’t have your video. Do you want to jump again?”
“Seriously?” I questioned as thoughts clouded my mind. Here I was given the chance to bungee jump again for free, but did I want to do it? It was an experience that I would typically group into the “once in a lifetime” category on my life list. It was an amazing experience, but would I actually describe it as “fun”?
“Sure, I’ll do it,” I replied after what seemed like hours but in reality was just a few seconds.
“Can we go tandem?” Dan asked without a moment’s hesitation.
A few minutes later we were once again being harnessed up and walking on the bridge.
“Is jumping tandem significantly more dangerous?” Dan couldn’t help but ask.
“Yes,” she replied followed by silence…
“Anytime you deviate from the standard procedure it adds risk," she added to justify her response and break the silence.
“Let’s go,” I said not wanting to hear any more.
We were attached to each other and to the bungy cord. I was positioned behind Dan and told to tuck my head onto his shoulder and hug his waist when we jumped. If for some reason, we jumped at different times, we might be injured on the way down.
We slowly inched forward to the edge of the platform, the cord pulling us forward with a force, even stronger than the first time. I gripped Dan as tight as possible, since it felt as if the majority of the bungy cord was attached to him.
“3, 2, 1, Bungy!” and we were off.
Holy Shit. We were falling fast. And far. The added weight made us fall what seemed like at least 10 meters past the first time. And the first bounce up made us rebound almost all the way back up to the bridge. I didn’t know whether to fear crashing back up into the bridge more than falling into the water below. After a few minutes of bouncing, we were safely let down to the raft.
After doing something as daring as bungy jumping, one of the first questions people might ask is “Would you do it again?” That question might be difficult to ask for some, but for us the answer is easy.
We did.
Would I do it a third time?
Probably not.
Sunday
After bungy jumping we made our way north to a hostel near the Tongariro Crossing where we would be hiking the next day. The Tongariro Crossing is said to be the most beautiful hike in New Zealand and is the sight of the filming of Lord of the Rings (a movie I have yet to see). We arrived at our hostel in the middle of nowhere around 8pm to come to the realization that there was no place nearby to pick up food for the hike. Luckily we had some peanuts, chocolate covered raisons, and pretzels that would hopefully give us some energy on the seven hour hike.
We were greeted at the hostel by either the friendliest and craziest man I’ve ever met or the most drugged one. He asked us about our plans for the next day and we proceeded to tell him our plans to go hiking.
“It gets really cold up there,” he explained.
“Do you have a heavy rain-resistant coat?”
“No,” I replied.
“Do you have winter gloves?”
"No."
“A hat?”
"No."
He proceeded to pile these items on top of me as I replied. Not before long my arms were full with an extra large orange coat with paintballing stains on it, a fluorescent orange and white winter hat and gloves so big that they could have fit on my head.
“Well do you at least have bedding for tonight?” he almost pleadingly asked.
Luckily, we did. But only because we had originally planned on sleeping in the car. Who would know to bring their own bedding to a place whose main purpose is to provide people with a place to sleep? Apparently this was something we were expected to know. The next morning we left bright and early to get to the trail. It appeared to be a nice day, about 65 degrees with a few clouds in the sky. Little did I know what was to come…
The hike started off great . We were off to an early lead, passing other hikers by as I thought to myself this is going to be a breeze. The first half of the hike was all up hill, 1920m up hill in fact. Thankfully years of playing soccer gave me quad muscles large enough to endure it and Dan had gone on many hikes before so he was used to setting an appropriate pace.
As we approached the Red Crater (the highest point), I realized that we were walking into a cloud. At first I didn’t’ mind. It was slightly damp and cold and it felt as if I were on a different planet (or as I imagine it would feel). But then the wetness started to sink in. The dirt turned into mud and my intense concentration on not falling kept me from going into my backpack to put on another layer of clothing. Here I was in the middle of mist that had developed into rain, and cold winds with just a light fleece jacket, t-shirt, and jeans. My face started to go numb to the point where clear liquids would drip off my face and I was unsure if it were just the rain or my own snot. Dan was a bit more prepared, but the water was still freezing onto his hair and face. He helped me to get my hat and gloves on since I could barely move. I finally made it to the top, only to discover that heading downhill would be quite the task. I only managed to fall once as I slid down the side of the mountain covered in all dirt. The rest of the hike wasn’t too bad, once we made it out of the clouds.
I finished the hike covered in dirt, wearing a fluorescent orange and white hat, while most other hikers looked just as they did when they started. Next time I’ll be more prepared.
Monday
Monday was the only day of the week that it rained and luckily it was the day we chose to spend at the Waitomo Caves. The Waitomo Caves are famous for the abundance of glow-worms that are inside. There are several options of how to view the caves and we chose to go black water rafting. Black water rafting basically consists of boating through the caves on a tube a little bigger than the size of your butt. We were given wet-suits, a helmet with a light, boots, shorts, and a fleece to put on since the water was cold during his time of year. We spent an hour underground navigating through the cave using only the light of our helmets. We shut the lights off to view the glow-worms that we later learned were maggots with glow-in-the-day poop. I guess calling them glow-worms attracts the tourists. Who would want to see maggots and their poop? Black water rafting was pretty awesome; not as adventurous and dangerous as I had anticipated, but the best way to view the caves. In fact the most difficult part of the day was getting my wetsuit on! The provided us with hot showers and some food afterwards, which worked perfectly since we planned on sleeping in the car before our flight at 8am the following day.
Looking back on my week spent exploring the North Island of New Zealand with Dan, I can honestly say that it was one of the most thrilling, yet exhausting weeks of my life. We left Tuesday morning, a little later than anticipated after our Aerolineas Argentinas flight was delayed three hours and arrived in Auckland, NZ, at a time unbeknownst to both myself and Dan (with all the flight announcements in Spanish and our new philosophy of “not planning ahead” we were unsure of the time difference between New Zealand and Australia). The enter flight was spent playing poker (my new favorite card game) and we lost track of time before the flight was over.We picked up our APEX rent-a-car (a silver station wagon) and drove into the city of Auckland. Auckland was a lot smaller than I had imagined and the streets were pretty empty even for a Tuesday night. We explored a bit and judging by the lack of people around concluded that it must be late. We drove around to find an abandoned parking lot and although neither of us was tired, we forced ourselves to go to sleep. I should have mentioned earlier that I was trying to save as much money as possible on this trip so the car also served as a bed for the night.
Wednesday
Wednesday morning we awoke pre-sunrise, somewhat confused. We still had no idea what time it was since our GPS, cell phones, and Dan’s laptop all said different times. We eventually figured it out to be 3am and went back to sleep for a bit. Around 9am we left to drive south to Rotorua and spent the day viewing the “hot bubbling springs,” or in other words, piles of boiling mud that smelled like a mix of rotten eggs and horse manure. From Rotorua we made our way to Taupo for dinner. Taupo is a popular tourist destination for the lake and surrounding city. After dinner we continued to Hawkes Bay where we decided to find a place to stay for the night. The GPS directed us to a small little motel that luckily happened to have one room available for a ridiculously cheap price.Thursday
About a half-hour into our drive we drove past what appeared to be hitchhikers on the side of the road (their outstretched hands with their thumbs out might have given it away). I was going too fast to stop short in the middle of the highway, but after passing them a sudden excitement came over me. 
“What if we go back and pick them up?” I suggested. Without giving Dan much time to think, I made a U-turn and was on my way. A few seconds later Dan agreed that it would be a good idea.The hitchhikers were in their early 20s from London and needed a lift south to exactly where we were going. Ollie and Christian (as we later learned they were called) told us about their travels around the world and plugged their iPod into our radio to share some music with us. The chatting continued the entire way as they told us about prior hitchhiking experiences and how the lady before us just dropped them off in the middle of the highway. We exchanged email addresses and dropped them off at their destination a few minutes prior to our own. Afterwards Dan thanked me for coming up with the idea to pick them up. I thanked him for agreeing to it without much hesitation.
We arrived to our couch surfing host’s house a little late after some unsuccessful turns down walkways and one-way streets but Llew, our host, didn’t seem to mind. He was outside brewing beer when we arrived and showed us the pullout couch we would be staying on. Llew was a very friendly guy originally from Canada, but now a permanent resident of New Zealand. We ended up spending two nights at Llew’s place. I tried a few home brewed beers and learned how to play some nerdy board games that I never knew existed. Dan already knew to play some from his time spent at M.I.T. but I guess that’s not what I learned during my weekends at Wagner. I did discover that board games designed specifically for adults are great though and I may secretly buy a few for the future. Wellington was bigger than I expected and the museum was great and rose gardens were beautiful.
Saturday
I had my heart set on bungee jumping during our week in New Zealand, but Dan had slightly different plans. My view on bungee jumping was simple. To me, bungee jumping was quite possibly the scariest thing I could ever do. The idea of standing atop a bridge looking down with nothing except a cord between myself and the ground scared me more than anything else.And that is the exact reason I had to do it.
Dan viewed it from the opposite perspective of questioning why he would do something that he had no desire to do. He decided that he would look up the statistics and other information before he made his decision. I told him that I didn’t want to hear any of the facts he read until it was over.The first part of the drive was surprisingly relaxing. The beautiful scenery along the drive took my mind off what exactly I was driving towards. It was not until we saw the first sign that my heart started beating a little stronger than usual. Mokai Gravity Canyon, the highest bridge jump in New Zealand, 15 minutes. Figures I would choose the highest bridge jump in the entire country. I had put much thought into picking out the perfect jump location. I wanted to jump off a bridge with water below to somehow make myself believe that if my cord broke I would still have a chance at surviving, knowing full well that hitting water would be just as deadly as land. I chose the highest jump because if I was going to do it, I might as well do the highest I can find.
As we drove closer and closer, Dan continued to read on his laptop. Occasionally he would exclaim something or chuckle to himself, making me curious about what he was reading, but I decided it was better I didn’t know. I was going to jump no matter what. I was relieved when he told me that he was going to jump too. The statistics must not have been all too bad. The signs continued to count down in minute increments each one making me more nervous than the last. Arriving at the site, signing waivers, being weighed and placed in my harness seems like a blur to me. Before I knew it we were out on the bridge getting ready to jump. We had previously decided that I would jump first since I wanted to get it over with and Dan didn’t really care either way.I stood quietly as three women attached a bungee cord to me, going through a series of routine checks in preparation for the jump.
“OK so you’re going to make your way out to the edge so that your feet are in the marked place and place your arms out to the side. Then I will yell 3, 2, 1, Bungee and you jump.”
Sounded simple.
“OK go ahead” she instructed.
“Holy shit, this is really happening,” was all I could think as I approached the edge. I could feel the tension of the cord pulling me forward closer and closer to the edge. Without a moment’s hesitation I hear…
“3, 2, 1, Bungee!”
And I jump.
I have no recollection of my brain signaling to my body to jump. The second seems almost surreal. Before I knew it I was plummeting to the water below me, and less than two seconds later I was defying gravity bouncing back up towards the bridge. I bounced several times as all the blood slowly made its way to my head. My head felt like it was encompassing half my body weight before I was lowered down to a raft below me. I sat down on the raft and watched Dan jump from the river below (or rather the rocks covered by about two inches of water).
After our jumps we were placed on a seat and pulled back up to the bridge.
We had bungee jumped and lived to tell about it.
The adrenaline rush that we felt as we jumped was almost impossible to describe, but we attempted to talk about it as we sat waiting to watch our videos. After sitting and waiting for what seemed like a little longer than we were supposed to, a bungee instructor came over to us with some news.“Diane, for some reason we don’t have your video. Do you want to jump again?”
“Seriously?” I questioned as thoughts clouded my mind. Here I was given the chance to bungee jump again for free, but did I want to do it? It was an experience that I would typically group into the “once in a lifetime” category on my life list. It was an amazing experience, but would I actually describe it as “fun”?
“Sure, I’ll do it,” I replied after what seemed like hours but in reality was just a few seconds.
“Can we go tandem?” Dan asked without a moment’s hesitation.
A few minutes later we were once again being harnessed up and walking on the bridge.
“Is jumping tandem significantly more dangerous?” Dan couldn’t help but ask.“Yes,” she replied followed by silence…
“Anytime you deviate from the standard procedure it adds risk," she added to justify her response and break the silence.
“Let’s go,” I said not wanting to hear any more.
We were attached to each other and to the bungy cord. I was positioned behind Dan and told to tuck my head onto his shoulder and hug his waist when we jumped. If for some reason, we jumped at different times, we might be injured on the way down.
We slowly inched forward to the edge of the platform, the cord pulling us forward with a force, even stronger than the first time. I gripped Dan as tight as possible, since it felt as if the majority of the bungy cord was attached to him.
“3, 2, 1, Bungy!” and we were off.
Holy Shit. We were falling fast. And far. The added weight made us fall what seemed like at least 10 meters past the first time. And the first bounce up made us rebound almost all the way back up to the bridge. I didn’t know whether to fear crashing back up into the bridge more than falling into the water below. After a few minutes of bouncing, we were safely let down to the raft.
After doing something as daring as bungy jumping, one of the first questions people might ask is “Would you do it again?” That question might be difficult to ask for some, but for us the answer is easy.
We did.
Would I do it a third time?
Probably not.
Sunday
We were greeted at the hostel by either the friendliest and craziest man I’ve ever met or the most drugged one. He asked us about our plans for the next day and we proceeded to tell him our plans to go hiking.
“It gets really cold up there,” he explained.
“Do you have a heavy rain-resistant coat?”
“No,” I replied.
“Do you have winter gloves?”
"No."
“A hat?”
"No."
He proceeded to pile these items on top of me as I replied. Not before long my arms were full with an extra large orange coat with paintballing stains on it, a fluorescent orange and white winter hat and gloves so big that they could have fit on my head.
“Well do you at least have bedding for tonight?” he almost pleadingly asked.
Luckily, we did. But only because we had originally planned on sleeping in the car. Who would know to bring their own bedding to a place whose main purpose is to provide people with a place to sleep? Apparently this was something we were expected to know. The next morning we left bright and early to get to the trail. It appeared to be a nice day, about 65 degrees with a few clouds in the sky. Little did I know what was to come…
The hike started off great . We were off to an early lead, passing other hikers by as I thought to myself this is going to be a breeze. The first half of the hike was all up hill, 1920m up hill in fact. Thankfully years of playing soccer gave me quad muscles large enough to endure it and Dan had gone on many hikes before so he was used to setting an appropriate pace.
I finished the hike covered in dirt, wearing a fluorescent orange and white hat, while most other hikers looked just as they did when they started. Next time I’ll be more prepared.
Monday
Monday was the only day of the week that it rained and luckily it was the day we chose to spend at the Waitomo Caves. The Waitomo Caves are famous for the abundance of glow-worms that are inside. There are several options of how to view the caves and we chose to go black water rafting. Black water rafting basically consists of boating through the caves on a tube a little bigger than the size of your butt. We were given wet-suits, a helmet with a light, boots, shorts, and a fleece to put on since the water was cold during his time of year. We spent an hour underground navigating through the cave using only the light of our helmets. We shut the lights off to view the glow-worms that we later learned were maggots with glow-in-the-day poop. I guess calling them glow-worms attracts the tourists. Who would want to see maggots and their poop? Black water rafting was pretty awesome; not as adventurous and dangerous as I had anticipated, but the best way to view the caves. In fact the most difficult part of the day was getting my wetsuit on! The provided us with hot showers and some food afterwards, which worked perfectly since we planned on sleeping in the car before our flight at 8am the following day.
Monday, April 6, 2009
a little more than halfway...
So, Friday was my last day of work, and for some reason unbeknownst to myself, my boss decided to make it my first day of actually waitressing. I wasn't too worried when he gave me an ordering pad and threw me out onto the wharf until I started taking orders and realized that I knew nothing about what was on the menu. What are some of the sweeter wines you have?
How would you describe the rump steak?
What sauces come with the gundagi?
How many grams is the full lobster?
Most of the time I just replied with a simple "I'm not sure, would you like me to ask?" but other times I just made an answer up. "The rump steak is a very tender steak" or "I would recommend the Pacific Sea Bass" as if I had ever tried it. Aside from a few issues, I would say it went pretty well. My boss didn't seem to mind that it was my last day since many of the other waiters are travelers also and are always changing. At 11oclock it was a bittersweet feeling to finish my shift and say goodbye to the staff that I had come to know so well already in the last month. I met some great people and looking back on it, I could not have asked for a better job during my first month in Sydney.
After work I met up with my friend Audrey from Singapore and her Indonesian boyfriend and they brought me to a local bar. When we got there and stepped inside they informed me that the entire party would be Asians. Not only was I the only blonde person in the bar, I was also the tallest person by a few solid inches. It was definitely something I had never experienced before. They introduced me to all of their friends and I spent the entire night dancing with Asian people to purely American music.
Saturday I decided to venture to Paddington markets. Sydney has an abundance of markets, most of which are only open on weekends. I love walking through the markets and looking around at the stuff that is usually too expensive for my cheap self to buy.
Saturday night Dan and I went to a Rugby game at Sydney Football Stadium. Rhe home team, HSBC Warrantahs were playing a team from South Africa and surprisingly the tickets were pretty cheap. Rugby is huge in Australia and I can understand why. It is one of the most exciting games I have ever watched. The players are all in ridiculously good shape and the action never stops. The players never seem to get hurt despite running full speed at each other and tackling each other to the ground without any padding on. I ate an australian meat pie as I watched the HSBC Warrantahs beat the Stormers in a pretty close game.
Sunday I went to an Easter egg hunt in Centennial Park. Occassionally I use a website for travelers to find out about local activities going on that anyone is welcome to join. I went to the park and met a bunch of travelers, played some frisbee and soccer and headed back to my apartment in the evening.
A great thing about living in an apartment with 11 people is that something is always going on. When I got back to the apartment, some of my housemates each had one or two friends over, which adds up quickly to a party. Sometimes I feel like I live in the real world house or big brother house with something always going on. I wouldn't necessarily enjoy this for the rest of my life, but for my short time in Sydney, I love it.
This week I have the entire week free to do whatever I want in Sydney before I move out of my apartment and venture to New Zealand on Tuesday. I'm looking forward to a week without work before I go!
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