Anna, Jonathan, and I were ready for a break from work and excited about the up-coming holiday festivities. After a brief drive from the Geraldine countryside to the town of Ashburton, Anna's mother's house was a welcome respite. Up until very recently Ashburton was a sleepy town full of many retirees. After the Christchurch earthquakes, however, many young families moved there as an alternative to the geologically unstable Christchurch area. We arrived and arranged our bedrooms, then headed two blocks over to Anna's brother's house to prepare for the evening. We shared a meal and some stories before heading to a local pub to gather some troops before going to a live music show. Alas, I was too tired still from all the farm work, so I walked back to Anna's mom's place and called it an early night while the rest went on to get into all sorts of trouble.
I woke up to an empty house as Anna and Jonathan had ended up at her brother's the night before. I took advantage of the quiet solitude and made myself a hardy breakfast before settling down to some internet time... I needed to sort out my transportation back to the north island. While I was at Fruitvans in Auckland, another traveler had told me about this internet forum called transfercar. They acted as middlemen connecting car rental companies with travelers. The deal was like this: you check out their listing of rental vehicles in need of relocation from one part of the country to another. You match where you're starting from and where you're going with various vehicles and companies' needs. Depending on the company you may even get free fuel, insurance, and ferry fare from the south island to the north island. I shopped around a bit and sent off a few requests until Anna and Jonathan showed up.
It was a hot x-mas eve day with the mercury reaching over 30 degrees Celsius. On Anna's recommendation we decided to pack a picnic and head for nearby Rakaia River 30-40 minutes out of Ashburton. We got everything together and then exchanged gifts on the back lawn... I got a Maori Cepa (hackysack) and a sweet little Kiwi sheep farmer doll to remind me of my time on the farm. Then we hopped into the car and made for the river where we were supposed to meet some of Anna's friends. We arrived at the river and discovered that Anna's friends were nowhere to be found... not surprising given the stories I heard about the previous night. So we found ourselves a nice spot on a sandbar to spread our towels out and enjoy the December New Zealand heat. The picnic supplies we packed required cooking, so after a bit I was nominated to get a fire going for our weenie roast. We relaxed, ate, and traded stories of our various life experiences for awhile, then the wind picked up and we decided to head for home.
Back at the house we BBQ'd up some x-mas eve dinner and settled down to watch a movie Anna had given Jonathan as a gift... Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels. Once the movie was over I made it another early night as I was STILL recuperating from farm life... X-mas day, I was warned, would be a day of celebrating family with Anna's relatives. So we prepared a cheese platter and I made up some home-made eggnog before making the few block trip to one of Anna's relative's places. It was a very pleasant gathering with many friendly Kiwis, great food, and plenty of Petanque (a kind of Bocce Ball game). We feasted and gabbed then left in the early evening to continue our mellow x-mas back at the house. Overall it was as fairly uninteresting day of food and family, we all called it an early night that evening.
Boxing Day in Ashburton has one event which a large portion of the town always attends... the Ashburton horse races. It's not your Hollywood style horse racing, rather it's something called Trotting (aka harness racing) which involves a horse and a two-wheeled cart drawn behind carrying a driver. So after a nice sleep-in we packed our chilly (that's New Zealander for cooler) and headed to the race track. When we arrived it was a jungle of people in various states of intoxication (public drinking is a commonly accepted practice in NZ) and cars everywhere. We drove onto the fair grounds and found Anna's brother's tent. The next few hours were spent kicking back, socializing, and laying the occasional bet on a race.
A few hours in 30+ degree Celsius Boxing Day heat and we were all ready to take the crew back to Anna's brother's house. We ate, traded stories, and, once again, played lots of Petanque (can anyone see a pattern forming here?). I once again called it an early night and headed back to the house. I still hadn't heard back from the transfercar places I had applied to and was getting a little nervous as I had planned to start my journey northward the following day. So, I found another suitable transfer deal and sent off my request with crossed fingers.
The next day, once Anna and Jonathan got back home, we decided to clean up the house in preparation for Anna's mother's return. With the place all tidied and lawns mowed I checked my latest transfercar request... lo and behold... success!! I had scored a camper van for 3 days with a free tank of fuel, free ferry fees, and free insurance. I had to pick it up the next day at Christchurch airport. Shortly thereafter Anna's mom arrived and we all socialized a bit before Anna, Jonathan, and I decided to beat the heat by heading to nearby Ashburton Aquatic Park. The Aquatic park is a man-made lake and a water sports mecca of sorts. There seemed to be more speed boats, jet skis, sea doos, tubers, and water-skiers than one could readily count. As nice as the site was, petrol fumes often wafted under one's nose. We found a sliver of gravel beach and soaked in some rays with the occasional dip to wash the sweat off of ourselves. A few hours of beach time is all we needed before going back to the house for yet another family dinner. We took it easy the rest of the evening and I packed up in preparation for the recommencement of my solo-travels.
In the late morning we packed our gear into Anna's car. Her and Jonathan were heading to a music festival, so they dropped me off at the highway out of town and we said our farewells. It didn't take me long to warm up my thumb and I only waited ten minutes for a car to stop. My luck was holding out as the driver was going to Christchurch and close enough to the airport that she dropped me off there... I love hitch-hiking in New Zealand. I walked into one of the airport hotels and used their courtesy phone to call the car rental company, Kiwi Campers, to come pick me up. Twenty minutes later I was heading north in a sweet camper van with three days to get to Auckland.
As I sped northward it dawned on me that I had not yet swum in the ocean's of the south island. From my journey southward I recalled a particularly picturesque piece of beach just a little ways north of Kaikoura. So I found a spot where the highway skirted the edge of the ocean and had a much needed dip in the South Pacific. After my dip I continued to push northward for Picton and the ferry. As the rental car office they booked me on the 2 AM crossing, I figured I might as well not waste daylight on a fairly boring voyage. As I passed through Blenheim I thought about making a quick journey out to Nelson as I'd heard it was beautiful. But after a fill up at the gas station, I realized it would cost me close to $100 in fuel. Instead, I made it to the Picton ferry terminal and decided to sleep a few hours in the parking lot. I did, after all, have a spacious comfy double bed in the van. Once on the ferry I found a nice couch on the viewing deck and slept the whole boat ride to Wellington.
With the price of fuel as an obstacle, several hundred kilometres ahead of me, and some uncertainty about where I'd be staying in Auckland, I decided to pass on side adventures and aim for my destination that day. As the highway began to veer east away from the coast I thought I'd get at least one more look at the ocean before committing to the inland highway. Five minutes west of the highway I came to Waitarere beach; only the road didn't stop there. Instead, there was a sign reminding drivers that the "beach was a road too" and that proper vehicle registration was required. I couldn't resist. So I drove down the beach enjoying the sense of freedom such a drive inspires. I drove until I reached an estuary of sorts that couldn't be crossed without a 4x4 and I turned around. As I neared the beach exit I witnessed something I had not seen before. A truck was barreling down the beach with an arm sticking out one of the windows. At the end of that arm was a leash, and on the end of the leash was a horse galloping alongside the truck... amazing how some people exercise their animals.
I continued north determined on making my destination for the day. As I entered the 'Desert Road' around the south side of the Tongariro range I was engulfed by a massive rainstorm... almost tropical in its intensity. The driving got slower and more difficult, so by the time I reached Lake Taupo I needed a rest. A few hours later I resumed my drive. . Seeing as I had benefited from peoples' hitch-hiking kindness on my way south, I was eager to return the favor and appease some of my hitch-hiking karma. A little ways north of Lake Taupo I had my chance.
The hitch-hiker I picked up was a Kiwi-Canadian in his mid twenties. I've forgotten his name, but cannot forget the zeal with which he sang some of his own original revolutionary songs for me. A couple of hours of conversation about the woes of global capitalism and grassroots responses, I dropped him off in Hamilton and began the final leg of my drive. Right around dusk I rolled into the Auckland Fruitvans' farm with the hope that someone would be there and that I could do a little work for trade over the next week till my plane for Southeast Asia left. I was in luck, Canadian Samantha and her boyfriend Emilio were holding down the fort for one more night till they were going camping with her folks who were visiting from Ontario. Destination achieved.
In the early morning Sam and Emilio had left, so I was entrusted with feeding the ducks, chickens, and cats before closing up the farm. On my way out of Henderson I stopped at an internet cafe to try and get a hold of Taryn and Marcelo via Skype. They were out on the east coast just south of the Coromandel Peninsula running Fruitvans near Waihi Beach for the vacation season. After a few tries I reached Taryn who invited me to join the group for a few days. Sweet! I drove the camper van to the car rental office near Auckland airport and turned it in with the empty tank light on. Just then it started to pour rain and the rest of my day was supposed to be on the road hitch-hiking... ugh! As I sat contemplating my choices three Australians came into the office. They were just waiting for a new stereo to be installed in their rental van. I chatted them up and we traded some travel stories. They ended up giving me a ride to the spot where I started my hitch-hiking journey over a month earlier... and the rain let up just as I got out of the van... sweet!
As usual, I got picked up within ten minutes of sticking my freshly polished thumb out. The fellow wasn't going too far, but he assured me he'd drop me off at a good spot. Well, as good as the spot was, there was a sketchy looking guy already set up when I arrived. We chatted a bit and he was friendly enough, but no one was picking him up. So I walked over to a nearby coffee house to let him work his mojo solo. By the time I got back to the spot, a half hour later, he was gone. Twenty minutes later a foul-mouthed octogenarian picked me up in his Mercedes and off we went.
Three rides later I ended up at the Fruitvans' Waihi farmhouse... the last ride actually knew Marcelo so drove me right to the house... thank goodness, it was pouring rain. On my first night at the farm some of Taryn and Marcelo's friends were putting on a puppet show in the "shed". The show was intended to help educate youngsters about pollution and environmental degradation. Nevertheless, with a sound system and multiple sets and puppets, it made for an entertaining evening. Over the next five days I got to know only a few of the 50 or so wwoofers at the farm. New Years was nice and I even got to see some familiar faces from my first Fruitvans stay. I spent most of my time helping around the house, reading, and making occasional trips into Waihi town for a change of pace and some internet. Mostly, though, it rained... and hard! We were catching the edge of a massive tropical storm coming down from Australia.
It did let up a bit for a couple days allowing some sun through. On those days some of us took full advantage of the much needed dry spells and sunlight. On the first such day Samantha (American Sam), French Martin, both of whom I had met at my last Fruitvans stay, as well as a few other girls went down to Kauri Point to get some swimming in. The second such day the French couple Mark and Manon (I had shared a room with them at Auckland Fruitvans) and Latvian Salvis (another earlier Fruitvan friend) went mussel picking at Bowentown Point. We went at low tide just before dusk, but even so we had to swim across a sketchy looking channel to get to the good mussel loaded rocks. With a couple bags of green-lipped mussels in hand we went back to the farm and cooked them up to share with everyone as a seafood option to the two spit-roasted lambs we had going.
After five days hanging around Waihi I was fortunate enough to learn that Fruitvans needed a van transferred back to their Auckland base. So after some farewells and hugs I drove back to Auckland to Canadian Melissa and a few other wwoofers to get some selling spots up before I left. The one day I went selling I sold over $700worth of fruit and veggies! The rest of my time was mellow, hanging out with the skeleton crew and getting some much needed laundry done before going to the airport for my flight to Singapore. My last day in New Zealand wasn't without its surprises. Melissa's boyfriend (Irish Danny) gave me a ride out to the airport a couple hours before my flight was due to leave. After waiting twenty minutes in line to check my bag the flight representative hesitated as she scanned my passport. My plan had been to fly into Singapore, wander the airport until I found a flight to Thailand, and go to Bangkok. Apparently Singapore wouldn't allow me entry into the country without documented proof of exit, whether by land, sea, or air. The airline wouldn't check my luggage until I got this sorted out.
With heart in throat and less than 90 minutes before boarding time, I found a Flightcenter office in the airport and explained my situation. The attendant informed me that they couldn't book me a ticket between Singapore and Bangkok for any less than $500! However, she suggested I find an internet kiosk and book it online with my credit card to get a better deal. With heart further up throat I dragged my stuff to the internet kiosk and looked up what I had been told was the cheapest airline for this sort of thing...Air Asia. After some grumbling and mad mouse clicking I managed to snag a flight from Singapore to Bangkok for about $75 with only a 5 hour layover. After taxes and fees and whatnot, I coughed up the $130, ran to the Flightcenter where they printed up my confirmation forms, and dashed for my airline's check-in desks. When I had left them earlier, they told me I could come straight to the front of the line once I sorted out my transferring flight... thank goodness! The lineup had swollen to a mass of people that it surely would have taken me an hour to wait through and I had mere minutes before baggage check-in closed for my flight. With a sigh of relief I proudly made my way through customs and more or less walked directly onto my waiting plane... phew! Goodbye New Zealand! Look out Thailand! Here I come!
I woke up to an empty house as Anna and Jonathan had ended up at her brother's the night before. I took advantage of the quiet solitude and made myself a hardy breakfast before settling down to some internet time... I needed to sort out my transportation back to the north island. While I was at Fruitvans in Auckland, another traveler had told me about this internet forum called transfercar. They acted as middlemen connecting car rental companies with travelers. The deal was like this: you check out their listing of rental vehicles in need of relocation from one part of the country to another. You match where you're starting from and where you're going with various vehicles and companies' needs. Depending on the company you may even get free fuel, insurance, and ferry fare from the south island to the north island. I shopped around a bit and sent off a few requests until Anna and Jonathan showed up.
It was a hot x-mas eve day with the mercury reaching over 30 degrees Celsius. On Anna's recommendation we decided to pack a picnic and head for nearby Rakaia River 30-40 minutes out of Ashburton. We got everything together and then exchanged gifts on the back lawn... I got a Maori Cepa (hackysack) and a sweet little Kiwi sheep farmer doll to remind me of my time on the farm. Then we hopped into the car and made for the river where we were supposed to meet some of Anna's friends. We arrived at the river and discovered that Anna's friends were nowhere to be found... not surprising given the stories I heard about the previous night. So we found ourselves a nice spot on a sandbar to spread our towels out and enjoy the December New Zealand heat. The picnic supplies we packed required cooking, so after a bit I was nominated to get a fire going for our weenie roast. We relaxed, ate, and traded stories of our various life experiences for awhile, then the wind picked up and we decided to head for home.
Back at the house we BBQ'd up some x-mas eve dinner and settled down to watch a movie Anna had given Jonathan as a gift... Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels. Once the movie was over I made it another early night as I was STILL recuperating from farm life... X-mas day, I was warned, would be a day of celebrating family with Anna's relatives. So we prepared a cheese platter and I made up some home-made eggnog before making the few block trip to one of Anna's relative's places. It was a very pleasant gathering with many friendly Kiwis, great food, and plenty of Petanque (a kind of Bocce Ball game). We feasted and gabbed then left in the early evening to continue our mellow x-mas back at the house. Overall it was as fairly uninteresting day of food and family, we all called it an early night that evening.
Boxing Day in Ashburton has one event which a large portion of the town always attends... the Ashburton horse races. It's not your Hollywood style horse racing, rather it's something called Trotting (aka harness racing) which involves a horse and a two-wheeled cart drawn behind carrying a driver. So after a nice sleep-in we packed our chilly (that's New Zealander for cooler) and headed to the race track. When we arrived it was a jungle of people in various states of intoxication (public drinking is a commonly accepted practice in NZ) and cars everywhere. We drove onto the fair grounds and found Anna's brother's tent. The next few hours were spent kicking back, socializing, and laying the occasional bet on a race.
A few hours in 30+ degree Celsius Boxing Day heat and we were all ready to take the crew back to Anna's brother's house. We ate, traded stories, and, once again, played lots of Petanque (can anyone see a pattern forming here?). I once again called it an early night and headed back to the house. I still hadn't heard back from the transfercar places I had applied to and was getting a little nervous as I had planned to start my journey northward the following day. So, I found another suitable transfer deal and sent off my request with crossed fingers.
The next day, once Anna and Jonathan got back home, we decided to clean up the house in preparation for Anna's mother's return. With the place all tidied and lawns mowed I checked my latest transfercar request... lo and behold... success!! I had scored a camper van for 3 days with a free tank of fuel, free ferry fees, and free insurance. I had to pick it up the next day at Christchurch airport. Shortly thereafter Anna's mom arrived and we all socialized a bit before Anna, Jonathan, and I decided to beat the heat by heading to nearby Ashburton Aquatic Park. The Aquatic park is a man-made lake and a water sports mecca of sorts. There seemed to be more speed boats, jet skis, sea doos, tubers, and water-skiers than one could readily count. As nice as the site was, petrol fumes often wafted under one's nose. We found a sliver of gravel beach and soaked in some rays with the occasional dip to wash the sweat off of ourselves. A few hours of beach time is all we needed before going back to the house for yet another family dinner. We took it easy the rest of the evening and I packed up in preparation for the recommencement of my solo-travels.
In the late morning we packed our gear into Anna's car. Her and Jonathan were heading to a music festival, so they dropped me off at the highway out of town and we said our farewells. It didn't take me long to warm up my thumb and I only waited ten minutes for a car to stop. My luck was holding out as the driver was going to Christchurch and close enough to the airport that she dropped me off there... I love hitch-hiking in New Zealand. I walked into one of the airport hotels and used their courtesy phone to call the car rental company, Kiwi Campers, to come pick me up. Twenty minutes later I was heading north in a sweet camper van with three days to get to Auckland.
As I sped northward it dawned on me that I had not yet swum in the ocean's of the south island. From my journey southward I recalled a particularly picturesque piece of beach just a little ways north of Kaikoura. So I found a spot where the highway skirted the edge of the ocean and had a much needed dip in the South Pacific. After my dip I continued to push northward for Picton and the ferry. As the rental car office they booked me on the 2 AM crossing, I figured I might as well not waste daylight on a fairly boring voyage. As I passed through Blenheim I thought about making a quick journey out to Nelson as I'd heard it was beautiful. But after a fill up at the gas station, I realized it would cost me close to $100 in fuel. Instead, I made it to the Picton ferry terminal and decided to sleep a few hours in the parking lot. I did, after all, have a spacious comfy double bed in the van. Once on the ferry I found a nice couch on the viewing deck and slept the whole boat ride to Wellington.
With the price of fuel as an obstacle, several hundred kilometres ahead of me, and some uncertainty about where I'd be staying in Auckland, I decided to pass on side adventures and aim for my destination that day. As the highway began to veer east away from the coast I thought I'd get at least one more look at the ocean before committing to the inland highway. Five minutes west of the highway I came to Waitarere beach; only the road didn't stop there. Instead, there was a sign reminding drivers that the "beach was a road too" and that proper vehicle registration was required. I couldn't resist. So I drove down the beach enjoying the sense of freedom such a drive inspires. I drove until I reached an estuary of sorts that couldn't be crossed without a 4x4 and I turned around. As I neared the beach exit I witnessed something I had not seen before. A truck was barreling down the beach with an arm sticking out one of the windows. At the end of that arm was a leash, and on the end of the leash was a horse galloping alongside the truck... amazing how some people exercise their animals.
I continued north determined on making my destination for the day. As I entered the 'Desert Road' around the south side of the Tongariro range I was engulfed by a massive rainstorm... almost tropical in its intensity. The driving got slower and more difficult, so by the time I reached Lake Taupo I needed a rest. A few hours later I resumed my drive. . Seeing as I had benefited from peoples' hitch-hiking kindness on my way south, I was eager to return the favor and appease some of my hitch-hiking karma. A little ways north of Lake Taupo I had my chance.
The hitch-hiker I picked up was a Kiwi-Canadian in his mid twenties. I've forgotten his name, but cannot forget the zeal with which he sang some of his own original revolutionary songs for me. A couple of hours of conversation about the woes of global capitalism and grassroots responses, I dropped him off in Hamilton and began the final leg of my drive. Right around dusk I rolled into the Auckland Fruitvans' farm with the hope that someone would be there and that I could do a little work for trade over the next week till my plane for Southeast Asia left. I was in luck, Canadian Samantha and her boyfriend Emilio were holding down the fort for one more night till they were going camping with her folks who were visiting from Ontario. Destination achieved.
In the early morning Sam and Emilio had left, so I was entrusted with feeding the ducks, chickens, and cats before closing up the farm. On my way out of Henderson I stopped at an internet cafe to try and get a hold of Taryn and Marcelo via Skype. They were out on the east coast just south of the Coromandel Peninsula running Fruitvans near Waihi Beach for the vacation season. After a few tries I reached Taryn who invited me to join the group for a few days. Sweet! I drove the camper van to the car rental office near Auckland airport and turned it in with the empty tank light on. Just then it started to pour rain and the rest of my day was supposed to be on the road hitch-hiking... ugh! As I sat contemplating my choices three Australians came into the office. They were just waiting for a new stereo to be installed in their rental van. I chatted them up and we traded some travel stories. They ended up giving me a ride to the spot where I started my hitch-hiking journey over a month earlier... and the rain let up just as I got out of the van... sweet!
As usual, I got picked up within ten minutes of sticking my freshly polished thumb out. The fellow wasn't going too far, but he assured me he'd drop me off at a good spot. Well, as good as the spot was, there was a sketchy looking guy already set up when I arrived. We chatted a bit and he was friendly enough, but no one was picking him up. So I walked over to a nearby coffee house to let him work his mojo solo. By the time I got back to the spot, a half hour later, he was gone. Twenty minutes later a foul-mouthed octogenarian picked me up in his Mercedes and off we went.
Three rides later I ended up at the Fruitvans' Waihi farmhouse... the last ride actually knew Marcelo so drove me right to the house... thank goodness, it was pouring rain. On my first night at the farm some of Taryn and Marcelo's friends were putting on a puppet show in the "shed". The show was intended to help educate youngsters about pollution and environmental degradation. Nevertheless, with a sound system and multiple sets and puppets, it made for an entertaining evening. Over the next five days I got to know only a few of the 50 or so wwoofers at the farm. New Years was nice and I even got to see some familiar faces from my first Fruitvans stay. I spent most of my time helping around the house, reading, and making occasional trips into Waihi town for a change of pace and some internet. Mostly, though, it rained... and hard! We were catching the edge of a massive tropical storm coming down from Australia.
It did let up a bit for a couple days allowing some sun through. On those days some of us took full advantage of the much needed dry spells and sunlight. On the first such day Samantha (American Sam), French Martin, both of whom I had met at my last Fruitvans stay, as well as a few other girls went down to Kauri Point to get some swimming in. The second such day the French couple Mark and Manon (I had shared a room with them at Auckland Fruitvans) and Latvian Salvis (another earlier Fruitvan friend) went mussel picking at Bowentown Point. We went at low tide just before dusk, but even so we had to swim across a sketchy looking channel to get to the good mussel loaded rocks. With a couple bags of green-lipped mussels in hand we went back to the farm and cooked them up to share with everyone as a seafood option to the two spit-roasted lambs we had going.
After five days hanging around Waihi I was fortunate enough to learn that Fruitvans needed a van transferred back to their Auckland base. So after some farewells and hugs I drove back to Auckland to Canadian Melissa and a few other wwoofers to get some selling spots up before I left. The one day I went selling I sold over $700worth of fruit and veggies! The rest of my time was mellow, hanging out with the skeleton crew and getting some much needed laundry done before going to the airport for my flight to Singapore. My last day in New Zealand wasn't without its surprises. Melissa's boyfriend (Irish Danny) gave me a ride out to the airport a couple hours before my flight was due to leave. After waiting twenty minutes in line to check my bag the flight representative hesitated as she scanned my passport. My plan had been to fly into Singapore, wander the airport until I found a flight to Thailand, and go to Bangkok. Apparently Singapore wouldn't allow me entry into the country without documented proof of exit, whether by land, sea, or air. The airline wouldn't check my luggage until I got this sorted out.
With heart in throat and less than 90 minutes before boarding time, I found a Flightcenter office in the airport and explained my situation. The attendant informed me that they couldn't book me a ticket between Singapore and Bangkok for any less than $500! However, she suggested I find an internet kiosk and book it online with my credit card to get a better deal. With heart further up throat I dragged my stuff to the internet kiosk and looked up what I had been told was the cheapest airline for this sort of thing...Air Asia. After some grumbling and mad mouse clicking I managed to snag a flight from Singapore to Bangkok for about $75 with only a 5 hour layover. After taxes and fees and whatnot, I coughed up the $130, ran to the Flightcenter where they printed up my confirmation forms, and dashed for my airline's check-in desks. When I had left them earlier, they told me I could come straight to the front of the line once I sorted out my transferring flight... thank goodness! The lineup had swollen to a mass of people that it surely would have taken me an hour to wait through and I had mere minutes before baggage check-in closed for my flight. With a sigh of relief I proudly made my way through customs and more or less walked directly onto my waiting plane... phew! Goodbye New Zealand! Look out Thailand! Here I come!
How was your time in new Zealand what was your favorite part
ReplyDeletefrom Pithair
@ Pithair - New Zealand was definitely a different experience from South America. I wwoofed and hitch hiked most of it for starters. I really enjoyed hitch-hiking through NZ as the people were all very friendly and welcoming. Aside from that, I think my favourite time in NZ was working on the sheep farm. Fruitvans was awesome, but the farm work was really interesting to me, plus I got to learn a whole lot. My apologies to all of you at O&O for not being more expedient with Blog posts... I have a job in Cambodia at the moment at one of the hostels, so not as much time to write, but I'll be sure to have something up soon!
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