Snow Day

In a country with few impressive buildings (at least from a Eurocentric perspective), Chateau Tongariro was an unexpected surprise. I am pretty sure we could not have afforded to stay there, but I felt obligated to snap a photo on the way up the mountain. (Apologies: all photos in this post were taken with the Sony, so they might not be up to usual quality standards.)

I am pretty sure she was throwing a snowball

As I write this entry, I am trying to remember the last time I saw snow; and a quick search reminds me of one of the reasons I bother keeping this blog. Although I grew up within a reasonably short drive of ski resorts, I only remember one or two family trips to the snow. Both of my parents came from very cold climates, and I am guessing that neither felt the need to drive an hour to see winter. I probably never learned to ski as a child because it was so expensive, and I probably never learned to ski as an adult because the Kaiser I worked at was the regional rehab center for Northern California. Every winter it would fill up with 25 year old men with broken necks.

My family will probably like this one better.

But after a day (make that one hour) in Whakapapa, I am thinking I might take up the sport. Compared to all the other ways to get injured in New Zealand, skiing does not seem that dangerous anymore.

Jancie had a great time until her hands and feet got cold. Note to Nico: Cover your daughter's ankles! I never think to take pictures of her during a temper tantrum. I might want those some day.

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