At or around this time, we made a healthy, informed, democratic decision to get
back on drugs as soon as possible. It took about 12 hours.

Sweet, sweet Nespresso.

We're on a road to nowhere

[Note: I've been receiving complaints that the layout of takealotofdrugs looks like it was done by a six year old. If I had to guess, I'd say I have not made any changes to the template in six years. I'll try jazzing things up a little starting now.]

If you could fly from Napier to New Plymouth, it would be a very short flight. But due to some mountains (and a general lack of roads), New Plymouth is one of the furthest places we can get without leaving the North Island. (I'm sure somebody is about to come along and name 18 places in Northland that are further...)

To keep things interesting, we decided to drive back via the Forgotten World Highway. I would like to be able to post some fabulous vistas, but the weather was not really cooperating.

Our first stop was the Bridge to Somewhere. Everyone at my work has corrected me with "Bridge to Nowhere" when I've mentioned the Bridge to Somewhere. The two bridges look pretty similar to me, except there are no roads leading to the Bridge to Nowhere; to get to the Bridge to Nowhere, one must walk for 2 and half days (or for the less adventurous, you can take a boat, then walk for 40 minutes to get there). The Bridge to Somewhere is a little more accessible, though it does not really go much of anywhere anymore.

At the halfway point (of the Forgotten World Highway, not halfway home), we stopped in the Republic of Whangamomona...a town which seceded from New Zealand in the eighties. Apparently, some drunk guys came up with the idea to promote tourism. As far as I can tell, the NZ Government has a sense of humour about this sort of thing, and did not send in the troops.

The highway passes by several ghost towns; Tangarakau Village once had 1200 residents. I was picturing something a little like this Old West Town. I had, of course, forgotten that Kiwis have a habit of moving their homes around.



Sadly, there was nothing left of Tangarakau Village...except these four houses, which might be recent arrivals.

Finally, we arrived at Damper Falls (the North Island's second highest water fall).

Although there are few signs of human civilisation on the Forgotten World Highway, the sheep are never far away.

The template is going to need a little more work that I had thought. I'll keep working at it.

Lonely and dreaming of the west coast

Our weekend in New Plymouth began at the Govett-Brewster Art Gallery. They were running some special event where a bunch of musicians played "contemporary" classical music around the exhibits. Here's a sextet in the museum cafe.


After that, things at the museum got a little...weird; still, New Plymouth is certainly a city that cares about the arts. Here's a giant wind wand thingy.


I could have spent all day photographing the Te Rewa Bridge (photo stolen, as I came across it whilst running and did not have my camera).


One does not have to spend long in New Plymouth before noticing a vibe very different from that felt in Napier.


A short walk from downtown takes you to Pukekura Park. There are a bunch of fountains around the park...but you have to turn them on. Here's a waterfall in its resting state.


After a little button pressing...


The waterfall comes to life.


[Which brings me to an aside I've been meaning to write about for a while: Electricity is outrageously expensive in New Zealand. I would be embarrassed to let you Americans know how much an average electric bill runs us (and we are mostly off the grid for heating). I am constantly following Nicole around turning off the myriad of lights she leaves burning. I've been afraid to look, but I would guess our power bill quadruples when we have (American) guests. Every time we stay in a hotel, I feel like a character in a William Gibson book who can't figure out why she is able to take an unlimited shower in an expensive hotel (and assumes there's a meter somewhere measuring the water so that the hotel will be able to accurately charge the person paying for the room.) ]

Back to the post at hand: One of the best things about living in New Zealand is, there's always someone you know near by. Here's Cloudy, making her second takealotofdrugs appearance. She is the only person I've ever seen who can eat ice cream while driving. We were eating ice cream in the car because it never stops raining in New Plymouth.


Look at that, a bottle with my name on it.

Now is the winter of our discontent

Would you believe today is the first day of winter. If you're in the northern hemisphere, you might be thinking: "Do not be a fool Noah, the sun is shining. Summer is about to start." Those of you who know we're in New Zealand might be thinking something like: "One would think winter starts on June 21st...you fool." Hey, quit trying to spread your American Imperialist ideas down here. Winter starts today, and that's final. Also, I'm really cold.

In astronomical reckoning, the solstices and equinoxes ought to be the middle of the respective seasons, but, because of thermal lag, regions with a continental climate often consider these four dates to be the start of the seasons as in the diagram, with the cross-quarter days considered seasonal midpoints. The length of these seasons is not uniform because of the elliptical orbit of the earth and its different speeds along that orbit.

From the March equinox it takes 92.75 days until the June solstice, then 93.65 days until the September equinox, 89.85 days until the December solstice and finally 88.99 days until the March equinox. In Canada and the United States, the mass media consider the astronomical seasons "official" over all other reckonings, but no legal basis exists for this designation.

Because of the differences in the Northern and Southern Hemispheres, it is no longer considered appropriate to use the northern-seasonal designations for the astronomical quarter days. The modern convention for them is: March Equinox, June Solstice, September Equinox and December Solstice. The oceanic climate of the Southern Hemisphere produces a shorter temperature lag, so the start of each season is usually considered to be several weeks before the respective solstice or equinox in this hemisphere, in other countries with oceanic climates, and in cultures with Celtic roots.

And Jupiter aligns with Mars

View from our window this morning. Sorry it's a little out of focus...if anyone would like to send me a tripod that will support a rather heavy camera, I would be most grateful. This link tells me I'm looking at Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter.


In other news, visitor #3 (or possibly #5, depending on how you count) has recently returned home. We miss you Nam. For some reason, my camera did not like focusing on you...but here you are with some of the locals.


Here you are amongst some local colour.


And here you near the top of the world.


Here's Nico amongst the giants.


It rained a whole lot, so I did not have the camera with me very often...but we did manage to see a few new sights, including the National Wildlife Centre.

They had this neat parrot thing that I cannot remember the name of.


And an almost sunset.

Why I don't blog every day

[Because every post would look like this:]

It stopped raining, so I mowed the lawn. The lawn was really long because it had been raining all week. After I finished mowing the lawn, we took a walk to the Bluff Hill Lookout. When we first got to Napier, this was one of the first places we went; for some reason Nico had not been back since.

Here's Nico above the Port.


The Port is one of the few places in Napier that is open 24/7. Even on a Sunday night, you can watch timber being loaded onto giant ships. Apparently it goes to China, then we buy it back as furniture. [Note: I get told a lot to recycle paper to "save a tree". If you want to save a tree, stop sending all of them to China.]


Westshore and Ahuriri in the other direction.

A year in pictures

The Sony (point and shoot) camera memory card just filled up, so it seemed like a good time for an erase. I'm not sure why these did not get deleted sooner, and most of the photos (or at least the good ones) have already been posted here. If you're bored, watch the slideshow.

A couple of highlights from last year:

Nicole after winning a beauty pageant.


A freak of nature at breakfast.

All the leaves are brown

Alternative title: I'm looking California but feeling Minnesota

Weekend trip up to Gisborne, the first city in the world to see the sun.

The best $56 I've ever spent just may have been here.


Here's a picture from a hill we climbed.


Minnesota, you are so frickin lame.


Interesting thing about Gisborne: You can stand on the spot where Captain (then Lieutenant) James Cook anchored the Endeavor before setting foot on what was to become New Zealand. (He did not run aground here; the land has been "reclaimed".)


Ten years later, he was killed by the Americans.


In other news, autumn is well underway. You wouldn't know it (as native plants are green all year), except a bunch of homesick people brought a whole lot of trees with them. The largest collection of northern hemisphere trees in the southern hemisphere is a short drive from Gisborne.



PS: My new favourite picture of Nicole.

Frankly, I don't see the resemblance.

We're near the water
I know a guy, a guy with a boat
It doesn't have any motor
We could just sit, sit and float

Finally got around to sailing our new boat today. It's a Whiting 16. I would have better photos, but we can't seem to find the camera.


In other news, I'm making 48 pints (US) of beer. It should be ready in about 2 weeks, if anyone wants to come over.