Fiords

Fiordland is the most magical magnificent place. I've travelled for hours and hours, days really, to get here, and despite Milford Sound actually being the most stunning place I've ever been I feel a bit glum today. There's a few clouds hanging over my head that are making a few suggestions to me - we will leave when:

• You find a town to enjoy staying in and getting to know
• You find at least one friend.
• You find a purpose in life (ie a decent job) instead of filling days with nothingness.

See, I think I've reached a point. The point where even if I didn't financially need to get a job and stay still, I want to. Milford Sound truly is a stunning piece of natures magnificence but it was an experience that would have been enhanced if I had someone to share it with. Normally I really enjoy my own company and I never feel alone, its just I miss having friends physically here to chat to and share with. So that is now my mission. I have no idea where I'm going having done all of my must see's in the South Island. So let's see where the road takes me!

Drowned in job offers?

After my little adventure yesterday with the Whitebaiters camp I retired to sleepy Haast and decided the time was right to go to the pub and meet the locals. Meet the locals I did indeed. There I was reading my paper, drinking a handle of beer and one by one they curiously creep over and tentatively start a conversation. One bloke asked what I did for work and before I knew it he had ran off and returned moments later with the manager offering me immediate start work in the kitchen. Good pay, cheap flat and food that goes with it. A great deal if you wanted to spend time in a town with 150 locals over a 50 mile radius, mostly men, mostly 50+, mostly in the pub, where it rains almost 15 metres a year!!!! I didn't really want to stay there, and drove off in the pouring rain this morning.

But last night was thoroughly enjoyable. After one by one coming to chat to me the locals dragged me over to their table, brought me beer all night and encouraged me to 'find the rabbit' in the Monteith's posters (a popular sport in the Haast pub!). I had not one, but two more job offers in the course of the evening. All the blokes carefully explained that they spent every night in the pub, there isn't much to do in Haast, but we are not alcoholics oh no, just keen on company. Where were all the women I wondered? The last cook had ran off during the night by the way, they seemed to steer off the subject when i asked why...

The owner Rachel kept telling them off like schoolboys - "don't scare her off Derek". I felt a bit like a fish being reeled in. That was my favorite local pub experience so far but I couldn't stay there nooooooo.

Now I find myself in Central Otago, Wanaka. It would be a super stunning town (it is location wise) but unfortunately it had this weird blight. Its called SNOWBOARDERS. They saunter round the town in ridiculous (I MEAN RIDICULOUS) outfits and if i stay here for long I will either die laughing at them or be killed for not being cool enough! I'm not cool enough for this town, that much is true. And I never want to be. Shoot me someone if I ever get that pretentious. Urrgggh. Well, I'm here for the weekend anyway, before continuing my adventures. This sure ain't the town for me. No Sir.

Baiting the white

WHITEBAITING SEASON IS HERE!!!

Well, actually its been going on since i left Karamea,

Today I experience the Ghetto. Whitebaiters lodgings aplenty. O yes.

I drove and drove through magnificent scenery,

Picking up and chatting with a freindly hitchhiking laddee

Called Brian.

Stopping and spotting many a lovely site on the way to Haast.

And onwards, alone again in the peace of my Little White,

To the end of the way. To Jacksons Bay!

Where I saw this:

And this:

(Had a little chat with a fisherman called Ken)

All this, travelling is bliss! Can you tell?

Yesterday I saw this:

Not that I'm bragging....(its Lake Matheson with Mount Cook in the background)

So on my way, from the bay
I explored some more and drove down this wee road

Neils Beach it said, this way

But at the end of the dirt road I found....

A small community of whitebaiters all in housebus', trucks, caravans, vans

Standing around looking grim, cooking their dinner on fires in their gumboots

No women, expect a shop dummy wearing a discarded bikini top

In a pile, a Mountainous pile of odds and sodds

Old Gumboots, many a left foot

Horns from dead beasts, old nets, old tins cans

Old everything, in a pile,

Maori blokes peeking out from sheds,

Looking to me, being an only girl in a travelling whitebaiters village

Menacing. And a little strange.

I was there, so I walked through, to test the old fear levels.

I walked back, still alive! Survived.

Hooray.

I drove a little faster on the way home!

I'm now in Haast, a small compact little stopover. The backpackers is really nice here. A fine view. It's all fine views to be had. Wow is my general response at the moment. I have regular stops to stop myself from crashing INTO the scenery it's that good.

So tomorrow off to Wanaka to find a doctor who will declare me in excellent health so that I can apply for another years visa! And then the job hunt begins. At the moment my requirements are this: A town with a farmers market! A nice little cafe/restaurant serving excellent food so I can get some good experience. I'm sure my conditions will weaken as time goes on and money slips away. We shall see aye.

Ka Roimato Ohine Hukatere (the tears of the avalance girl)

I visited my first Glacier today. A white river of ice pouring down the mountain valley at a rate 100,000 times slower than a river. A magnificent sight. I read all the scientific reasoning's behind it, and it went in one ear out the other quick as lightening. What did still though was this:



An adventurous independent Maori woman by the name of Hine Hukatere (the avalanche girl) loved mountaineering. It was her main passion in life, that and her lover Tawe. Tawe, although appreciating Hines love of climbing was not that keen on it himself but occasionally joined her for the odd expedition. One day tragedy strikes and poor Tawe falls into the deep abyss. Dead. Hine cries a river of tears, filling the valley with her salty grief. The sympathetic Gods freeze her tears in memory of this thus creating Franz Joseph Glacier.



I like that story, it makes more sense than the science that I cannot grasp. The Glacier really was stunning. A strange sight. I'd put up pictures but my camera is playing up once again.



So I am writing this today from a bus! An Internet bus full of comfy seats and computer kiosks. A find! Its a beautiful evening and I walked twice around the town just to appreciate the sky. The whole town is built around tourists visiting the Glacier so it's a strange one. Don't think I want to work here even though there's plenty of summer jobs. I think I must work somewhere with a farmers market.

It's really exciting to see and experience first hand one of the many marvels of nature and to be enjoying Planet Earth. But is does make me realise that I would need several lifetimes to see and appreciate everything properly. It's really hard to get to know the subtle pleasures of a place and it's people unless you spend a decent amount of time there, but that means you must be very selective about where you chose to get to know, as getting to know everywhere...well there's not enough time is there! I am realising all the million billion things I'd like to do and, at the same time, the fact that I won't do most of them. Just a few, the ones that are most strongly on my path. For example - in some of my other lives and possibly this one I'd like to:

• Spend a summer in France becoming properly fluent and enjoying life in France with baguette's and cheese and wine.
• Spend a summer in Italy becoming properly fluent and enjoying life in Italy, eating amazing local Italian food and relaxing.
• Travel through Africa in a house bus
• Travel everywhere
• Be an amazing writer, travelling around meeting real life crazy characters for my next bestselling novel.
• Have a smallholding and live there self-sufficiently with my brood (of chickens,children,veges...)
• Be the top local, seasonal, organic Chef advocating a philosophy rather than just selling food.
• Build a pizza oven and travel round the eco-festivals selling pizza
• Do a world tour of farmers markets
• Be an eco-travel writer

Oh dear, I fear it's getting boring, as I could actually go on for a long long time. I won't however.

I think one of my favorite things about travelling is the people you meet. Like yesterdays Irish Possum Hunter. I met him for half an hour but his character is already larger than life. He's become a bit of a legend and I'm no longer sure which parts are based in reality. I see him in a deer stalkers hat, wild-eyed with his quick fleeting smiles and shifty eyes flicking quickly as if he is constantly hunting. I wonder whether living in the bush changed him beyond recognition or whether he was always a little wild.

Then there's Punakiki Pete. By far one of the best characters I've met so far. I would also call him Rocky Horror Pete. Here he is now, fully armed with his Yoga gear, dressed in stockings a suspenders wearing a rather alluring shade of lipstick, brandishing a delicious looking Flat White (coffee for you none-Kiwis). He makes the best darn coffee in the West and at weekends likes to dress up in women's clothes (that may not be true but in the cafe there's a lovely picture of him as a lady!) I see him, a big softie Londoner, like a big teddy bear, perched on a rock beside me quoting a Kathy Burke sketch:

An old lady goes into a pound shop (please remember the strong Saaaf London accent folks). Shes asks the assistant "ow much is this?" He replies "its a pound". "Ow much it this?" pointing to a rubber chicken. "Its a pound, everything's a pound". This goes on until "ow much is this?" calmly asks little old lady. "ITS A POUND, EVERYTHING A POUND" shouts irate shop assistant. Little old lady " CHILL THE F*** OUT"

This is the story that Punakiki Pete tells with great glee, several times, and VERY loudly, causing unsuspecting tourists to trip up or choke on their coffee. Pete in his strong Saaaf London accent is completely oblivious and tells it once more for luck. I am in hysterics of course. It really was very funny. What a character. I couldn't go to Greymouth's Annual Ball in the theme of the Rocky Horror show as sadly I had left my fishnets in the UK. Oh well.

I believe I have gone on for rather a long time tonight, but actually there's not much to get up to here. I'll go back to my book shall I....

Il bel far niete

Il bel far niete = the art of doing nothing.

A phrase coined and mastered in all its glory by the Italians of course. I feel I am beginning to achieve such great heights on a day like today when it is quite literally raining cats and dogs. I could be in a tent, my car, my old beaten up caravan, a shanty hut for all the noise. Its pelting it down and I feel like hibernating.

I have left to extreme hospitality of Hokitika after a realised that it was all a massive ploy to part Hana from money. It goes like this. Extreme isolation from shops/money spending places/people for 6 months followed by a town filled with:

Specimin A - A fine Scotch Whisky. Very fast talking whisky worded wisdom from an older alcohol-loving lady with a beautiful bottle shop/cafe/cocktail bars. I just got drawn in. Am now very pleased to have whisky as company as I've got one of those annoying colds that just sprung up this morning.

Specimin B - Greenstone. Pounamu. Jade. The West Coast is full of it. Its a stone of great majesty and has great spiritual and practical meaning for Maori. In Hoki half the shops are artist and craft studios, both large and small. I was simply seduced by the Pounamu into buying a fine piece. It is a gift for someone, although I cannot say who.

Specimin C - SHOES. Dammit, I brought shoes when I needed BOOTS. I can't believe I did it. I have been wearing the same pair of amazing Keen boots for 18 months now. They are the only pair (apart from my jandals/flipflops) that I have worn in this time and I have quite simply run them into the ground. So the slightly sad search for their replaced started today and got Severely Sidetracked. I am now the very proud owner of a beautiful pair of green Keen shoes. They are captivating and to be honest they didn't give me much of a choice in the matter. They chose me. However all walking I do in the future will be in my old worn out holey boots that leak and generally smell. Poor Boots.

So money gone I took myself off to the Glaciers. Here I am. No sight of Glacier yet, just lots of giggling girls and Italian men lounging around the hostel. So yes, I am practicing the art of doing nothing. Nothing but read. I've just finished reading Kere Holmes' The Bone People. If you want to get a poetic sense of New Zealand, the land, the people, the legends, all entwined in a sorrowful yet heartening tale then read this book. Its very very gripping. Its like staring at the West Coast ocean, getting lost in the Dichotomy of its magic and harsh wild nature. I went on a detour to see the town/village (actually a hamlet) where she lives and wrote the book. Very rainy, very wild.

Highlight of the day (apart from my new shoes of course) : Went into The Bushmans Lounge - a middle of somewhere kinda place specialising in Possum Pie and Roadkill. On entry there's a sign that summed up says:

Do not ask us what the weathers doing. We're working. You're the ones on holiday with time to drink coffee and read papers (owner was doing exactly this when I arrived though!). Do not bring your moaning English arses in here complaining about the weather. We're making you feel at home. This is a RAINforest. If you want sun P**s off to Sardinia.

I nervously approached the counter after inspecting the array of possum fur nipple warmers and various other weird and wonderful things and to my great surprise got a warm welcome. I tried asking for a possum pie but somehow the message from brain to mouth didn't carry through and 'venison please"came out instead. The wild-eyed local I spotted on arrival turned out to be an Irishman who had been living in the bush for the last while or so, setting possum traps and eating them for breakfast. Hmmm he might have been there too long judging from his gumboots, leggings, checked shirt down to the knees and a strange rambo-style tie round his head. I had an extremely amusing conversation before making a swift exit.

Friendly neighbourhood Kiwis

Yes. The friendly neighbourhood Kiwis of Hokitika are living up to their name today. Not once, not twice, not thrice but on Every Single Occasion possible today I have had marvellous interactions with very genuine friendly Kiwi folk. For example - Here I am after doing a couple of u'es in Little White, looking at my very small, very ill-detailed tourist map of Hoki when a big landrover pulls up. They wind down the window to gleefully tell me that I look lost! I concur with a sheepish smile and tell them I'm looking for the Gorge. They smile and tell me to follow, at which point I embark on a rather whirlwind tour of Hokitikas back roads and a speed far greater than my usual 'Nanna' driving style. After leaving me on a no exit road commenting that there's no way I can get lost now (watch me!) they smile and wave goodbye. The Gorge was simply Gorgeous by the way.
Then there was the beach walk. Everyone in Hokitika seems to pop down to the beach from time to time to check its still all there. They all wave and smile as you walk past and a couple came up to me to ask me where I was from (I didn't realise it was THAT obvious that I'm not from round here). So a lovely friendly day, bit of a contrast to Grey Greymouth but that must be attributed as least partly to the weather.
I even found some really really nice Single Malt in a wee shop. Its from the only distillery on the Isle of Mull and I thought it would be rude not to sample it.
Ahhh yes. How I love Whiskey. A bit of a mixed blessing that, not coming cheap. So I am planning a trip to Isla to cycle round the island and visit the ten distilleries there. This will happen at some point in the future! who's with me? If you fancy whisky tastings in fine ole Scotland do leave a comment. First ten win the sort after places.....

The Weather with Jonesy

You are tuned into the wonderful world of HanasHead, and now we have the weather read to you by our very own weathergirl extrodinaire....itttttttts Jonesy.

Hello and welcome to West Coast Weather. Today we have a cooooold front moving in from the South and rudely shoving the last two days brilliance out the way. Be sure to do all bike-riding site-seeing in the aptly named Greymouth Town this morning before the arrival of the ominious Barber. Yes, the Barber strikes again, rushing through the deserted grey streets of Greymouth wailing out razoredged sonnets of doom and gloom in a miserable manner. We here at the weather studio believe that this famous Barber fellow is reponsible for driving away the friendly tourists of yesterday, leaving us in (heavenly) peace and solitude at one of the best backpackers yet. The Global Backpackers lives on despite the cutting wind (aptly named the Barber) and is the place all sensible beings should hang out as we see the arrival of toooooorrential rain. Thats right people, run home from your Brewery Tours and cosy up by the fire, its Cats and Dogs out there.

Don't forget to attempt to instil a sunny disposition to all you meet today, especially tour guides with a possible sense of humour bypass as despite first impressions humour is probably just hidden behind many layers of clothing. Also note that when arriving at Brewery looking like a drowned rat you are likely to be given the shifty up-down look over to a) make sure you won't shake yourself and coat off like a wet dog on her premises and b) you are over 18 behind those limp soggy locks. This ill-humour should disperse later on in the day after repeated attempts at conversation/intelligent beer related questions and, failing all that, amusing travelling anicdotes like:
Slightly odd Russian guy in Rainforest Retreat "Excuse me James, could you tell me absolutlely everything about everything everywhere here as you are getting out the shower at 11pm please?"
Then "Excuse me James but can please turn generator off. Very noisy."
Slightly perplexed and acutely annoyed James (remember he is in his towel, fresh out of shower) "Err you mean the OCEAN?"
Such talk will likely to bring a sweeping smile from the south followed by a much warmer front and even a bit of freeform conversation. Success. Return to the fire to dry off/sober up.
Later on we shall see INTENSE HUMIDITY in the locale of the sauna, for a short period of 30 minutes only so be prepared. Drink plenty of water, bring a towel and enjoy.

You have been listening to the weather. Greymouth version.

HIPPIE? Moi?

So current public opinion from the blog-following peeps of Devon/Wales/Backabeyond would like an answer to the raving-hippie question of a few weeks back. Here is an explanation (of sorts). Enjoy.

hippie

The Oxford Pocket Dictionary of Current English | Date: 2008

hip·pie / ˈhipē/ (also hip·py) • n. (esp. in the 1960s) a person of unconventional appearance, typically having long hair and wearing beads, associated with a subculture involving a rejection of conventional values and the taking of hallucinogenic drugs.


Beads hanging, Beard grooming, Sandal sporting, Wildly Flouncing,Is that dancin? Day dreaming, psychedelic taking, Jesus looking, LOVE and PEACING?
Poi spinning, Craft making, Bran eating, Rainbow painting,
Van Living, Horribly HAIRY, Airy FAIRY, Black footed,
Hippie.

Tree Hugging, Free-love loving, Crystal beaming, Tarot Reading,

What are you wearing?
Bicycle riding, Freedom Fighting, Pot Smoking, Plant growing,
Crazy Greenee, Meat avoidee, VEGAN friendly, ethically pleasing,
Guitar Playing, Cliche Saying, Chakra Sensing, Wash avoiding,
Hippie.

Yes/No? Agree?
Well. Lets look at it this way.


Some people don't really like Hippies. I've noticed. If you are noticeably displaying your reluctance to join full-heartedly into society and all it conventionally values then Some People view you will distinct disdain.

Some People dismiss comments from people they label as Raving Hippies without a second thought. Bloomin' Hippies, they think, always preaching about peace and love and never actually getting on with it. They just live in Communes, Smoking pot all day and talk about saving the world. Who listens? Who are the law abiding public working hard, paying taxes, working day after day after day to pay the mortgage to feed the kids to pay for a new fridge a new car a new shirt the latest everything. Who do these dirty hippies think they are travelling around, living freely, not following the unwritten laws of society that make us so happy. So very happy with our conventional lives. Hippies only smile because they are stoned the whole time, how dare they. Its defiantly not because they actually find moments of true joy in everyday life. It must be something to do with those flowers they have in their hair...Don't they know the Sixties has long gone? Woodstock is only a memory. Love and Peace will never exist. Whats the point in all this recycling anyway, we can just make new ones yes?. Why are you always sitting around playing guitar when you could be doing something Useful. What would these hippies want to find another alternative way of living when what we've got is working fine. I don't believe in Global Warming anyway. Load of rubbish. Fancy buying vegan sandals when that ones flown all the way over here. What a hypocrite.

The End.

PS. I have just noticed that I am sitting writing this with odd socks on. One is rainbow stripped. The other has a hole in it. I am also wearing sandals. Over. My. Socks. Oh my god, I think someone should call the fashion police and get me quickly arrested for the henious crime of Not Fitting In. Whoops. Alert Alert, Possible Hippie on the Premises.

Really The End Now.

-------------------------------------------------------

A brief explanatory note for those of you who may just think I'm being rude about everyone.

The above comments are for the most part verging on the ridiculous. For the most part they are horribly polarised stereotypes that fit few individuals. The suggestion that a barefooted free spirited wanderer is a far more worthy occupation than a hard-working mortgage paying person is of course rubbish. All forms of expression, individuality and ways of living are equally valid in my opinion and few labels can accurately describe an individual. Few labels paint a holistic picture of a person or their lifestyle. Dismissing someone as a raving hippy is as bad as dismissing someone as a boring conformist. Polarities and black and white portrayals of people rarely do justice to the range of eclectic people that make up the interesting society that we live in. There are many many shades of grey and sometimes it is nicer to be called Hana than to be called Hippy. My point. Over and out.

The magic of the ocean reveals....

...hidden caves and fur seals

A venture, to the end of the beach, climbing slip sliding up the rocky ledge that leads us to a hidden, human-free hideaway. An ethereal mist hangs over the sea today, creating a pearl effect - colours in bluegreen watercolour, the magic of the coast seeping into the adventurers leaving us in our peaceful bubbles. Exclaiming over a star fish, a bottomless rockpool, a crab disturbed scutters under a rock. New Zealand Fur Seals roar at the indignity of their afternoon nap being disrupted by mere humans, of the girlie kind who leap back in surprise (and with a tiny bit a passing fear).
We spot mussels, big juicy looking mussels and ask the seas permission, tentatively waiting at the edge for a response, a sign that we won't be swallowed up by the ocean. It consents, but only for a few, a starter, before roaring around our ankles. We retreat.
Through caves and chasms we climb, hands and knees, pulling up over rocks and ledges to the next hidden cove, the next installment of today's magic. Feeling at once both tiny and insignificant in time and size and like a giant trending softly on a massive geological landscape full of rivers and valleys and swirling pools.

Amazing. Why have I been sitting on the first beach for two weeks? It goes to show how much more you see and experience when you stop for longer in a place, really get to know it.

Musak

Another pirate radio experience last night! Punakiki Rocks Razza 100.2FM Radio! We did a James and wwoofers show and it was excellent! Really great fun, I'm getting into this community radio molarchy. You never really know if anyone is actually listening though. In Karamea I think maybe 5 people. Here, maybe 2? But it doesn't matter, its a FANTASTIC way to spend an evening. A couple of beers, a couple of nice people to spend the evening with. Basically we were just playing songs for each other all night. How nice is that. There were a few threats of Wet Wet Wet and Take That, but luckily the good music won. Mostly.

I got to play a few current favorite tunes including Neil Young - To the Wire, Bedoulin Soundclash, Xavier Rudd - Messages, Regina Spektor - On the Radio, Beirut, Kora, among others. We had some Swedish classics from Johan including The Knife - Heartbeats and Abba!
A great evening all round.

Thought you might like to read the lyrics from the lovely Xavier. He really is a one-man-band genius.

Xavier Rudd - Messages

Now come sit down, will you talk with me now
Let me see through your eyes where there is so much light
We are biding our time. For these myths to unwind
These changes we will confront.

So please beware with every place that you have
Look to your soul for these things that you know
for the trees that we see
Cannot forever breathe
With the changes they will confront.

You know some people they just won't understand
Don't understand, these things
Thank you for your message but I don't understand
won't understand these things

This sacred land it has seen many hands
it has wealth and gold yet it is fragile and old
now the greedy souls, just dont care to know
of the changes that will confront

So speak out loud of the things you are proud
And if you love this coast
keep it clean as it evoles
Cos the way that it shines
may just dwindle with time
with the changes it will confront

You know some people they just won't understand
Don't understand, these things
Thank you for your message but I don't understand
won't understand these things.

So hold nice and close i want to get to your soul
So when it is cold you wont feel so alone
cos the road that you take may just bend and break
with the changes you will confront

With each gift that you share
You may heal and repair
With each choice that you make you may help someones day
well i, know you are strong
may your journey be long
and now i wish you the best of luck

I know you are strong
may your journey be long
and now i wish you the best of luck.

Accountability and Blogging in general

Happy Thursday To You Too.

When you have a blog, like I do, and actually write in it and enjoy writing in it, as I do, there comes a point when you wonder who reads it and how much you should edit yourself.
I mean, I don't put anything in here that I wouldn't actually talk to real people about (writing on a computer does not feel like I'm talking to real people most of the time, it usually feels like I write for the pleasure of writing and it goes off into the tinterweb-etha never to be seen again). And believe it or not I do edit myself to a the extent that if I have time I spell-check, and I don't swear!I don't edit my mood though, and I think you can really tell the difference between goodmood and badmood Han. I do this deliberately because otherwise you would get a very one-sided everything-is-always-amazing picture of my travels. And that's simply not real. There's always two or more sides to every story, there's always ups and downs. Would you read a book where only lovely things happen? Would it be interesting still? I'd love a book like that but it would bore me because I'd know that its very unrealistic. I'd rather be like I am (bit of moody bugger at times/very happy at others) than constant in-between level headed person that I'm not. That would bore me. So you have the ups and downs in my life in this blog, along with the good and bad points about the places I stay, the things I do. Its all from a personal point of view too, all very, whats the word...subjective?

I hope that people understand that personal blogging is simply that. Its personal, its not objective pieces of writing that fairly demonstrate both sides of an argument.

For example, take my rant about 1080 a week or so back. That is a one-sided highly opinionated blurb from an upset tourist. It is almost a knee-jerk reaction to the realisation that this piece of natures wonderland that I'm in is not managed perfectly. It is an emotional response to an issue that upset me. And I do hold myself accountable for everything I said if you take into account the style of writing. After writing that I then wrote to DOC, Tourism New Zealand and relevant members of Parliament to express my displeasure. DOC won the response rate by getting back to me in a record time of 24 hours, and in detail too. Too much condescending detail I thought. So of course I wrote back, this time being less an emotional tourist and trying to present more of a factual argument to why I was against indiscriminate aerial use of 1080 poison. Again, a prompt response from Herb Christophers from DOC. This time less sarcasm and more pointed attempts to convince me that DOC really did care and considers 1080 the best/only viable means of possum/TB control. What he didn't do is convince me, I am still of the opinion that aerial 1080 is a terrible thing to be using on native bush. What he did do is to present DOC's point of view of the subject, so now I have more information and can make a less subjective opinion. I also changed my opinion of him and DOC from dislike at being belittled to actually liking the guy for taking the time to address the issues. Nice one Herb.

So accountability for what we say on blogs is a funny issue really. Its semi-private in that I write this for friends and family. And yet countless nameless others read this blog for reasons I cannot fathom (115 people in the last week! who are you all?) and this blog is in the public domain. Strange to think that strangers read my words. You can really get to know a person from what they write and how they write it, and yet I may never meet these people.

How to enjoy housekeeping...

Photo = housekeeping A team. Me, Scottish Mags, Lisa from the valleys, and hmmm the names already slide away. How awful!

a. Do housekeeping somewhere amazingly beautiful. Remember to look up every 5 minutes from your hoovering/mopping/scrubbing to admire New Zealand's rain forest/bush wonderland just there outside the window.

b. Sing loudly and out of tune to mp3 player on random (again Oli, thank you for the music).

c. Chuckle away to oneself remembering Erin and Laura creeping into the Awaroa kitchen to lounge around my baking section with me shooing their suspicious housekeeping coats away from my nice clean bench. I now know why you guys spent so much time chatting with me!

d. Pretend nasty chemicals are ....well, something else.

e. Take time removing all the spiders and moths from the bathroom before spraying nasty chemicals in there. Remember to talk to them and explain why they are being relocated.

f. Visit the ever-stunning, always-awe-inspiring, magnificent beast/goddess that is the ocean at least once a day, preferably before and after housekeeping.

g. Have a fantastic Welsh Woman called Lisa as a boss. The accent makes me feel at home and she really is LOVELY.

h. Realise that the Scottish girl who gave me a headache when I first arrived is also very nice and has lots in common with me...like film choice (any0ne who rates Garden State as one of their favs can't be a bad lass) and music.

i. Relax after the chemical scrubbing is over by attending a local yoga class (YES, more yoga in my life PLEASE). This takes place in the gift shop/post office/cafe by Pancake Rocks and consists of cafe man, cafe owner, me, Scottish Mags. Surreal but nice. A few curious tourists peered in. We ignored curious tourists, maintaining relaxing yoga positions.

PS. Car miraculously started up again the next morning. I believe its an electrical error of some kind as the clock has gone wrong too. Not being an expert I leave my diagnosis at that and will join the AA as soon as I reach something resembling a town.

uh oh. Breakdown no.1!!

My little white car has bloomin' gone and broken down! Bad bad car. Although its just decided not to start so maybe it will decide to start tomorrow...fingers crossed. Why would my little car suddenly not start? All suggestions welcome please.

So before this I had (and am still having) a wonderful day. Started by waking up (as you do) walking to beach to look for the little blue penquins (not found) and watching the sea until my belly rumbled breakfast time. Then after cleaning duties I took off for a coffee and then a walk along this massively long beach, like 10 miles long!

Its been the sunniest day ever, really warm in the sun, like yesterday so i made the most out of it. As I returned to my car I met a gorgeous American guy getting out of his van so naturally I continued my walk in the other direction with beer in hand, searching for jade and chatting with nice man for a couple of hours. He was one of these Californian surfer/skier types you find in American movies. So that was a nice little surprise for the day. I watched sunset from Pancake Rocks. There were Scottish guys down there with deckchairs and beers exclaiming
"better than telly this". I was inclined to agree with them.

So great day, but then when I got back into little white she refused to start or turn over or anything. She was in some kind of grouch and I can't understand why. So hitched back safely and here I am, fed and with a nice warm cup of tea.

Dance Parties and West Coast Wekas

This is a 5 min walk from Te Nikau! I go there every morning.
I cycled along this road today - this was my view before I whizzed down the hill.


Last night I was brave. I decided to say yes to an invitation. For, wait for it, a dance party where the conditions were:

• You must dance
• You must not be afraid of 40+ yr olds dancing.
• You must bring a bottle
• You must drink the bottle.

Upon meeting the above criteria we all pootled off to a nearby house (a very nice nearby house at that, it had a compost toilet, lots of art everywhere, and amazingly massive silver beet growing in a hot house) feeling a wee bit nervous. Expect the unexpected.
Needless to say (perhaps?!) we 4 wwoofers had a marvellous time and danced our little socks off to a variety of weird and wonderful music in this lady's living room. I don't know where they came from, Punakiki being a tiny place (I've only spotted 15 houses so far), but it was a full living room. Full people just out of their gumboots and into their glad rags for the evening. Great stuff.

And today I met my first Weka. I curious creature who will rifle through your bags quick as lightning and nick stuff, oh and leave you little shite gifts to clean up. Looks a bit like a kiwi if you don't really know what a kiwi looks like. I'll put a photo of the little buggers on here once my camera decides it wants to work again.

I also got a letter from Lulu (you are my biggest commenter, I almost feel like I'm just chatting with you actually as I write this then go read your blog!). Yippee, love letters. And you are almost as strange as me in your writing style. Most enjoyable Lulu thanks. Why did you send me a phone card but not include your number I wondered?

I would like to write an ole to the West Coast but I'm not sure if I'm poetic enough. That may come later.
I've put a wee list of all these topics I want to write in here on my homepage and you can vote for which one you want! Then the winning topic with get coverage. Genies.

A beautiful beginning...

.. to a day definitely helps it along. My day began at half 6, when I realised that it was light already. Horray for spring. I've decided that it is SPRING and that means lots of loveliness everywhere. Dafs, Lambs, sunrise earlier and earlier, planting seeds, lots of joy and new beginnings and hope for a new season of growth. I really LOVE SPRING. I don't care if other people are convinced it's still the middle of winter. It's not. Spring has Sprung.

And things here are perking up a bit. I still has a residual headache from A. B. or C. However I am happy in the knowledge that 4 hours of brass polishing to no effect is NOT the norm here (I would have left! The only person I will happily polish brass for in the future is Nan. I definitely won't do it for pompous English Men who think asking me what I will be 'doing' with my life and when my career will start is a great question to then laugh at the answer. My answer was what he expected. 'I'm doing this, now, this IS my life, now. I don't want a career as such, I want useful life-long skills.' He laughed and then talked about people on benefits for a while. Not a man in my good books.

But here is looking up. I like loud Scottish girl. I love coffee still. I LOVE THE WEST COAST. Ocean = Amazing

ARE YOU SHOUTING or just talking too loud

I have a headache. It's rubbish. I've decided its a combination of these three factors.

1. Caffeine withdrawal after drinking too much coffee on my way down here. (By the way, any Kiwis reading - your coffee culture is great and you are Fantastic at making coffee, so I now hold you responsible for my only bad habit - coffee. I love it. I drink more coffee than tea these days.)

2. SHOUTING people. Well maybe I have been taking everything a little harshly since arriving here, but there's a Scottish girl here who doesn't talk, she SHOUTS. But now I'm feeling kinder and I think its just that she didn't get given volume control at birth. Maybe everyone shouts in Scotland? I don't know. It hurts my head, and after a night of very poor sleep in a room with lots of people stop/starting snoring I was in the mood this morning for shouting. No shouting near me. I shall wear a sign. I think I'll be liking the girl soon though as apart from the shouting and fanatics about me not moving furniture for my yoga I think she's quite nice.

3. Spending 4 HOURS polishing copper that just won't shine up, it won't, it refuses. But none-the-less I had to spend 4 HOURS breathing in noxious fumes. A walk on the beach has sorted me out though.

Headache present but fading.

Went a got a coffee after this mornings worst wwoofing experience to date and tried to talk myself out of running away. IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL HERE, RUGGED, WILD, BEAUTIFUL. And yet I have not found myself in the best of moods. I blame hormones...
So I went and got a coffee in the only cafe and a paper, then poured coffee over paper. Mopped coffee up using scarf to lessen embarrassment factor. Then coffee man came over for a chat and I told him about the coffee incident anyway and showed the offending and now smelly scarf, he laughed. I laughed. Less headache.

I think it will get better.

NO COMPOST BIN?

How can there be no compost bin? I don't understand. Why What How?
I've just arrived at Te Nikau, a lovely retreat in the middle of the bush near Pancake Rocks, and I'm doing the whole anxious nervous thing that tends to happen when i just arrive someplace new. The owner Lisa seems lovely, bubbly, Welsh, showed me round with excessive speed and now I'm reeling wondering why I am here. Not because I believe it will be bad, it won't be bad. Its just that Karamea was so very great. Rongo and the crew there are so very great. I'm sad to leave having just gotten to feel like part of the furniture. I'm out of my comfort zone again and there's NO BLOOMIN' COMPOST bin. How does that work. And I have to adjust myself to sleep in a room with 3 other wwoofers. How will I do my morning yoga?
Well I guess if that is my biggest worry than I'm pretty happy...someone said this place is a workhouse compared to Rongos and I'm inclined to believe that, but only because it seems very structured - I start work at 10am, I clean for 4 hours, wwoofing over.
And not being a guidebook fanatic I didn't read that theres no shop, no cashmachine, no petrol. Luckily I don't really need any of these things. What this place has is an abundance of nature and I'm hoping, hoping to find some good company too.

By the way, would the person who called me a raging hippy in an anon comment please come forward. I would like to have a little 'discussion' with you. I wonder who will win. If of course, as I suspect, you are too gutless to call me a hippy And sign your name then I will just have to believe that I have already won said argument. Lovely

Laura's got Soul

I've just been listening to Laura's Soul Radio Show, a journey through the different Soul eras. I never realised I knew so little about soul music; there's Northern Soul, Neo Soul, Motown etc etc, it's great to be surprised by things you didn't know and realise how interesting these little bits of knowledge are. And where this knowledge comes from. In this case the person is Laura. Fellow wwoofer. Essex girl. Really lovely Essex girl who I would have never guessed knew so much about music. I think that goes to show that you can never ever just look at someone and think you have them sussed. There's always always more to that person, there's always something to learn, something to surprise, in every single person you meet. I love it when I meet people like Laura who I am sad to leave behind as I leave Karamea and head South, because there is so much more to her that I would like to get to know and won't.

How fascinating that there are 6 billion people out there who I could potentially meet and learn from. Doesn't that excite you? Even just a little bit?

Well, I've finished my garden, that will grow and bloom into an Eden of colour and gorgeousness come summer. Check out the path!

You never know, I may have to return to check its progress in the summertime.