Couch Surfing

Alternate Title: Yes, we do have a rugby team

In true New Zealand spirit, we set off on a cross country drive to see the United States play Ireland in round 1 of the Rugby World Cup.

One of our many stops was in the town of Hawera, about 70 km from New Plymouth (the home of the US during the tournament). Hawera is best known for having a very old and very tall water tower. I have no idea why I felt obligated to pay $2.50 to climb to the top.

A little closer to New Plymouth, Inglewood was celebrating the arrival of the Americans with this country band playing Whiskey in a Jar...which turned out to not be the strangest band we saw over the weekend.


In New Plymouth, the saying goes something like: "If you can see Mount Egmont, it's going to rain. If you can't see Mount Egmont, it's already raining." Here are a couple of rare photos of the Mount.





Interruption: Everyone act cool, it's the cops.


And on to one of the more unusual events of the weekend. The schedule read "US Marine Corp Band". I was expecting Taps and Stars and Stripes Forever.

I have a whole bunch of photos of cool bridges, but I should probably get onto the Rugby already. Only the grass was greener than the crowd.

This looks like my best photo of the game.


And a big thank you to Nigel and Christie for letting us stay in their mansion...even though we had only met once. Wonderful country this New Zealand. Here's the view from our room.

Now that spring is in the air

I really should be posting a little more about New Caledonia, but I thought I would first let all of my Northern Hemisphere friends know that it is no longer freezing down here.

Here is a rather giant Nicole looking like she remembers how to sail. This picture reminds me of my first Napier post (about 6 months before we first visited Napier).
I have a vague recollection of telling people I was going to live on this hill. We ended up pretty close: the hill in the second picture is to the right of Nicole's head...we live to the left of Nicole's head. [Sadly, the house is not visible from the water, but it's right by the abandoned hospital at the top of the hill.]

Back to New Caledonia: I don't think I've posted anything about Noumea yet. My favourite thing to do in Noumea was: sitting and staring out the window. One of the better views we've ever had from a hotel room. Sadly, I dropped my camera shortly after that photo was taken, so the picture quality will be going down from here.

A rather neat war memorial...and there's a McDonalds right beside it.


Here we are laying on the beach...we did a fair amount of this.


Here we are laying on the beach watching a wedding procession go by. (That only happened once.)


After we got bored of the Noumea beaches, we took a water taxi over to Ile Aux Canards (one of the many small offshore islands). Here's Nicole in a bikini. Ile Aux Canards has a neat underwater walkway, where we did our only snorkelling. The water was a little cold, but as long as I kept moving, I was able to stave off hypothermia. I would have some really cool photos, except I forgot the water proof case for the Sony.

Since I haven't gotten in trouble yet...


Should I mention: There is graffiti everywhere in New Caledonia. This is the entrance way to one of the nicer Noumea beaches.


Hey, it's my very favourite southern hemisphere band. Yellow Press Toy...I'm sure that doesn't translate well.


A parting picture of the reef from the plane.

Lost in Translation

Every job I have ever had (except possibly raking leaves for my father) has included some sort of training session involving something about communication. Perhaps this is because every job I have ever had has involved some sort of customer service aspect (except possibly raking leaves for my father). Every one of these communication training sessions has quoted some statistic that 80% of communication is non-verbal. There is no way this statistic is accurate.

Interesting thing about New Caledonia: Everyone speaks English. Even the people who don't speak English try to speak English. We had a waiter who asked if we would like a translation of the menu (it was a tapas bar; the menu a mix of French/Spanish, so we were mostly okay with it); we assumed he meant an English menu, and we're surprised when he read through the entire menu in his best English (making bleating sounds because he did not know the word for lamb).

Outside Noumea is another story. We spent two nights in the [former prison] town of Bourail. Our hosts Marion (spoke enough English to show us our room and sort of tell us what was for dinner) and Philippe (spoke only enough English to express disappointment that I could not converse with him in German) were quite welcoming at their little B&B a few km past town. At Dinner (a bargain at 3200 XPF for a drink, more food than you would ever want to eat, dessert and coffee) we sat at a large table of non-English speakers. I found the experience a good deal more enjoyable than Nicole (one would think she should be able to speak French and/or German)...probably because she was not allowed to partake of any of the French wines on offer. I can also tell you that at no time did I understand 80% of any conversation at the table.Later in our trip, I realized that I can pick up almost no spoken French, but if something is written down, I do pretty well.

There is a lot to do in Bourail...but with a big giant Nicole, your options are more limited. Bourail is known for 1) having the only surfable beach on the "mainland" and 2) some interesting rock formations.
The actual town of Bourail is not much to look at. Nicole used the words "failed colonialism" to describe it. I thought it looked a lot like Disneyland's New Orleans square if they stopped maintaining it for 50 years. This is a quaint little bakery, and it is remarkably devoid of graffiti.


Of potential interest to my Kiwi readers (Hi Misty!), New Caledonia's very own New Zealand war memorial/cemetery is just outside Bourail.

I thought I might start off with something useful

New Caledonia is expensive...I'm not sure if it's like Zurich expensive, or not, as we had a whole lot more money when we were in Zurich (and Zurich is indeed very expensive); so we'll just say that New Caledonia is also very expensive.

When arriving in New Caledonia, the expensiveness begins almost immediately: Tontouta International Airport is 45 km outside of Noumea. There are about 30 shuttle operators, each will want somewhere around 3000 Pacific Francs (XPF) to get you to Noumea; some might give you a little discount for two people (say 5000 XPF). [The Pacific Franc is used in New Caledonia and French Polynesia. It is pegged to the Euro at an exchange rate of 120 XPF per Euro. If you're bored, you should read about the history of why New Caledonia doesn't just use the Euro.] Anyway, 5000 XPF is about $60 (US) at today's exchange rate. In retrospect, that does not look very expensive, but it's quite a bit more in Kiwibucks, and Nico and I are but poor Kiwi folk.

But I digress. To delay the expensiveness a little, exchange a few dollars at the currency exchange at the airport. [Or use the ATM if you have a good American bank that does not make this prohibitive.] Then avoid the private shuttles and hop on the public bus (Carsud). I could find almost no web presence for Carsud, so I was a little afraid they were no longer in business. Fortunately, they are still running, and pick up at the airport every 30 minutes (roughly between 6:00 AM and 6:00 PM--don't quote me on that, but there are only like 3 planes that land/take off from Tontouta, and they are all well within normal bus hours). To get to Noumea, you will want line C (or C express, which has fewer stops, but still has so many you will wonder why it's called express). It's a 70 minute trip to Noumea (at a bargain price of 400 XPF per person). And unless you are staying in downtown Noumea, you will then have to catch a city bus to your destination. The city buses are quite easy to figure out, even if you speak as little French as I do. The airport bus will drop you off in the vicinity of Avenue Paul Doumer and Ru Du General Gallieni; you can then catch either a green line or yellow line bus to get to Anse Vata (where most of the resorts are). City buses are 210 XPF; 190 XPF if you buy your ticket in advance. There's a bus station office somewhere, but the only place I saw people buying tickets was from a machine in Place Des Cocotiers.

So that's how you save 4800 XPF during your first hour in New Caledonia.

PS: I sat in Place Des Cocotiers for quite a while to take a quality photo of some colorfully clothed Kanak women...the picture above was about the best I was able to do without looking like I was trying to take photos of colorfully clothed Kanak women.

Wow, it's been a little while. We're in the middle of winter, and not much has been going on. Next week, we're off to Nouvelle-Calédonie. I promise to have more interesting photos.

If you really must know what I've been up to:

1) We finally made it to the National Aquarium (right here in Napier).


Not the most impressive aquarium I've ever paid to get into, though the shark tank rivals something you might see in Vegas.


2) I spent a weekend in Auckland at a pharmacy conference...and I ran into a celebrity.


I snuck out for a little while and went to Martha's Backyard...selling all things to remind you of home. They had no Jif peanut butter, and It was July 12th, yet none of the 4th of July stuff was on sale. If anyone wants to send me a container or two of junk, I am certain I could operate a better American store.

Dessert was fabulous.


3) I've been assembling furniture. This looks like something my mother would have bought around the time I was born.

She said it's cold. It feels like independence day.

Alternative title: Do they have 4th of July in New Zealand?

Today my coworkers helped my celebrate America's birthday with a lunch of all things American.


I have pretty cool coworkers who brought: Coca-Cola, turkey and cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, Freedom (french) fries, sourdough bread, popcorn, an apple crumble, donuts, tortilla chips, an Hawaiian pizza.

PS: Of you haven't seen me in a while, I am not normally so goofy looking...though I probably am that pale.

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.