Gone tramping

Yes, so I've been deliciously swamped with life the past few days- plenty of photos and tall tales to come. But I'm leaving for Abel Tasman on a ferry tonight with a pack of Europeans and my nice shiny green backpack...

Why I can't be on reality TV

And now for an analogy: International Orientation:Janet:Quartering Machine:Medieval Prisoner. Truly, horrifying. I felt like a Duke froshie in purgatorious loop, and this time around it was longer, more redundant, and somehow still flooded with unattractive Americans. I balk at the idea of worthwhile academics. If I wanted that, I'd stay at Duke and write more environmental policy memos. After popping up at 6:30 AM (still haven't quite adjusted), I shoved some oatmeal and fruit down and HIKED UP A BLOODY MOUNTAIN to get to main campus. No joke- fifteen minutes up a continuous flight of stairs and hills and winding uphill dirt paths (because, you see, in New Zealand people hike to the bathroom). Anyhow, skip the drudgery and cut to the truly miraculous: I somehow convinced myself to join the orientation scavenger hunt "V Race". Good excercise, no? Why in fact, it was a twilight zone of nerd-dom, the Amazing Race for the awkward (thus I fit in), and profoundly exhausting. I tugged my lowriders up and around and across the entire city (in the same ballet flats recorded yesterday- tough little things, Jeffrey Campbell!) After offending local Kiwis with my yelping American accent, waving sheets of riddles in their face ("Excuse me- where is the strongest, unwatered plant between the triangle of fast food joints, which reveals a secret road unmarked?!"), I was quite ready to sidle away from the assigned team and lounge by the harbor with a sandwich. But enter _______ [I forget name], a genuine marvel of a crazy. ________ was a hardcore treasure hunt viper, ripping through the crowds and buses in pursuit of- what? I have no idea. In truth, I don't even know where she materialized from (not an undergraduate orientation byproduct), and seemed to bop out of some alternate universe of perpetual treasure hunter psychopaths. Anyhow, mildly entertaining day but no LOTR trip. Sheep sightings: 0. Crazy treasure hunter: 1

Elf: 1, Sheep: 0, Penguins: 2!!!

Yesterday, I saw a sign that said "Little Blue Penguin Crossing." Eh? What? Later in the day I was brooding by the harbor, perched on this carved granite sign and I SAW LITTLE BLUE PENGUINS.

A note about nomad-ness:

I walked all day and I'm still itching to keep walking. Just keep on walking. In New Zealand, everything is built for walking. People walk and bike and sail and throw themselves off land formations- it's wonderful. I had human contact with an American who joined me for Kaori and Botanicals, but I quickly escaped the torturous habits of the civilized and went about my mountain walk alone after mumbling an excuse about pharmacy and bath towels. Much better.

Elf: 1, Sheep: 0

And now traveling back in time: The Lord of the Rings full day tour! Big announcement: I met an elf. A genuine elf. His name was Nathan and he was banner holder number 2! He schmoozed with hobbits and orcs and Viggo! He was my tour guide 1 of the day and I stupidly failed to snap an awkwardian picture, which I could later subtitle nerdily with " Me and an elf!!!" Sigh. I should have proposed marriage then and there. I did, however, take pictures of everything else in all of Wellington and once my luggage finds me with my connector cord, I will commence the arduous upload. Back to morning tour: only one other person, an ignoramous from Canada who I found irritating for only watching the film twice and calling gollum "that little weird dude." I wanted to be on a tour with authentic, unrefined, LOTR nerds! Quote lines nerds! Wear elf ear nerds! Run around reenacting scenes nerds! I had to make up for everyone else's lack of nerddom (pictures to prove this later). We hit up basic Wellington bits, saw Peter Jackson's local house and a few studios (reverse Hollywood- small, nondescript, tucked into the landscape), went to a cafe where WETA workers frequent (I wonder if I loitered there everyday puttering with some clay and paints, I could get hired?) The best part of the day was picking through this rocky coastline with abalone and salty air and wind. I had a flashback to Olympic Park, Washington, rocky coast with abalone and salty air and wind. Nathan dropped me off at Nomads and I wandered along with my pet Canon Billy. I bought a sandwich and beer, the latter just to giggle that I could. It was gross, as expected, so I bought an orange juice. Old habits die hard and I am old. Later, Laura the monotone chick tour guide 2 picked me up. She, unfortunately, was no elf. But she was quite quick to inform us of her use as Orc grunt during the Rugby game wherein Peter Jackson instructed the spectators to supply mass sounds effects. Note: not as cool. On this afternoon tour were more despicably normal human beings, legit stick up the arse regulars and one Danish who jabbed at Elvish speakers and called them "freaks." I was quite truly bristled. Travel all the way yonder here, take a full day $100 tour, and you're not an obsessive Ringer who has memorized every extended DVD fact and outtake? BAH! BAH I SAY! I was also bristled by Laura whose job I could easily and more charismatically take over. Hmm...anyhow, we went to Rivendell and I jumped on a swinging bridge, then we tottered to a few more locations, took some nerdy pictures (could have been nerdier, no dent on my nerd scale today) and finally got back around 6:00 PM.
I believe I may have seen a sheep. However, the sighting was not conclusive so the count remains at a dismal 0. But Elf: 1, Sheep: 0 is not bad.

Nomadic Janet

I'd love to blog with a bit more finesse, but just hiked for 9 hours in ballet flats and feel a bit disgruntled in the toe-sies.

These 9 hours included: trek into Kaori Bird Sanctuary, which is essentially a giant, dense tropical forest with heaps of birds fluttering about. I, of course, saw a duck and some pigeons. (Okay, there was an interesting chicklet with a little boppity on its head, but no Kiwi sightings yet. They only come out at night, but are apparently rotund and extremely round. Ask me about the one legged Kiwi story). I then continued on a post-sanctuary wander through botanical gardens, saw a tight playground and enough rhododendrums to make mommy go mad (took pictures of said rhododendrums), rolled down a cable car back into central city and bumbled along the streets with ipod and aviators and giant hair. Feeling like a genuine nomadic hippie, I assumed my hunchback pose and continued on past Embassy Theatre (Lord of the Rings world premiere! Sweet! Too bad they were showing angsty French films for a festival- just missed No Country For Old Men showings. Note: The bathrooms to this theatre were lavish, nice mahogany chaise and gold mirrors, etc.) At this point I got a bit turned about and walked past a cafe three times, finally decided to buy a lemonade, which turned out to be caffeinated and exorbitantly sugary. I then walked up this San Francisco-esque hill surrounded by charming by-the-beach looking houses for a good hour until I huffed and puffed my way onto Mt. Victoria lookout point and a lovely grassy field where I napped for a bit until a black lab came running at me (the owner said, "DON'T YOU DARE WEE ON THE BAG" [my side bag next to me]). Realizing it was a bit cloudy and windy (although it's always sort of cloudy and windy when it's not sunny and windy) I made my way down the mountain but happened onto a tiny path. I like tiny paths. Big paths are okay, but tiny, curious little paths are fantastic. As it turns out, I actually walked into someone's backyard, but quickly found another public path, also tiny with white fencing. I followed an old man sketchily down the path and ended up at another end of the city, a boardwalk/beachtown-ish locale, gorgeous not surprisingly. Let me now note that, in fact, everyone and everywhere in this city is beautiful. BEAUTIFUL. GORGEOUS. STUNNING. PHOTO-WORTHY. RIDICULOUSLY GOOD LOOKING. The people are stylish (although the general trend is a "stepped out of a Roxy" catalogue chic: tan, blonde, board shorts). Note to world: everyone in New Zealand is eye candy. The bum on the road is eye candy. Even the "business men" have hipster hairstyles and funky suits and walk along the beach to and from work with little black backpacks. Yes- a walk by the beach: that's how they all get home. I ran into 5:00 traffic on a pedestian bridge packed with suits. Anyhow, I finally made my way back to central city and am to go collapse somewhere.

No sheep sightings yet

Finally in New Zealand after long travels in which laptop and baggage were casualties. Sat next to no one for 3 flights. 12 hour Air NZ flight was accompanied by polite old couple. In Auckland, a hoochy Canadian chick with her hairy husband also had baggage lost. After husband left to check on cruise details [actually he just wanted a smoke] Canadian chick complained that he was a child. I nodded in empathy, admiring her hoochy silver sequin belt and pink blouse. Over Auckland, I thought I spotted sheep. Turns out they were cows. Nomads Capital is not as seedy as expected. I share a room with 8 people though. It's stuffy and coed- ew. Although nice Russian and Japanese in room. Russian said he got in Wellington 3 days ago, had no room for 1st day, wandered around all night with luggage until 3 gays following him forced him to find refuge near police station. This makes me feel better about my fiasco. Russian says previous boys in room always go to "disco" and come back smelly. Again, ew. Luckily, some of the disco party have moved on. Today I bumbled about listening to my Ricky Gervais podcast. I am slowly becoming British with a New Zealand accent. Crossed a large bridge with hovering orb. Bridge looked like wood carving. I mosied about the harbor until the wind almost blew me over. Saw a few seagulls. Wandered about city. Lots of boutiques and cafes. I read Belle De Jour in a cafe and drank a mango smoothie. Tomorrow I am booked for a full day Lord of the Rings tour! This after much research about the perfect tour (must include props and lots of walking). Decided on Rover Ring Tour. Pictures soon to follow. Also, if I sound illiterate, it's because I've been listening to Karl Pilkington's diary.