Flying Foxes and Fjords

Sunday, May 8 - Flying Foxes
South Island

Sunday was the day that I would be zipping from tree to tree with ZipTrek Ecotours, an eco-friendly zip-line (or flying fox, as the Kiwis call it) company with a set-up in Queenstown. Before I could do any zipping, however, we first had to make it to the top of the gondola line at the Skyline Complex that sits over the city.  It was a drizzly morning, but the view was still pretty amazing so high up.

In our gondola

Sheep having breakfast.

It doesn't look it, but this mountain side was steep!

The view of Queenstown from the Skyline.

And a good luck kiss before I went zipping.

Soon enough it was time to meet up with the guides for the flying fox at the first jumping platform a short walk down from the Skyline. As Chris isn't so fond of heights, I did this one without him, though not on my own. Along with three other flyers, I geared up and set out to take a ride through the treetops, expertly guided by Haley and Julia. Between the 2 Aussies, local Kiwi, American me and our Canadian guides, we were a diverse group, but you gotta love it when four different countries still equal just one language.

The first platform

Since ZipTrek is not just your typical adventure tour company, from platform to platform we learned about how they work to not only offer adventure tours without damaging the environment, but also how they use these tours to teach sustainability, minimizing our impact on our environment, and the benefits of community outreach.  Much of the money made from their tours goes to local charities and community projects, and even the platforms and lines between trees, once removed, will not cause irreparable damage to the forest.

The first line was scary only because it was the first, and a lovely Kiwi woman named Sonsoray stepped up to go first. (Forgive my phonetic spelling, it's such a beautiful name!) The feeling of flying among the trees through early morning, misty air was exhilarating and freeing.  Doing so while hanging upside down was a whole other experience! I took along our Flip Video camera to capture what I could - beware, wind and screaming may call for you to lower your volume. Upon further inspection, I opted not to include the video of me flying upside down, as there's the slightest chance some profanity made its way out of my mouth, and my mom reads this! (Yes, I'm a goody goody who wants to believe my parents don't know I know such words, let alone speak them.) But here is the one where I stepped off the platform backwards, arms out.

The first five lines were fun, not scary as they weren't steep.  Line number six, however, was another animal.  The sixth and final line of our tour was (and still is, I suspect) the steepest tree-to-tree zip-line in the world.  And I couldn't wait!  I wasn't able to record this one because of safety precautions.  Because the braking system is different for so steep a line, you can't have anything attached to you, like a camera, lest it get caught and royally screw up your chances of a safe landing in the event that the first brake fails. Lucky for us - and everyone else who's taken this tour - everyone made it safely to the final landing site, and from there we hiked down a bit further to the base of the gondola line to take off our gear and say goodbye. As I left my flying fox friends to meet up with Chris in town, I decided that though it was early in the trip, THIS would be my favorite part.

Chris and I met up down by the wharf, where we ran into a bunch of Wilsons on their way out to celebrate Mother's Day. Such great people, and a reminder to try to call home. We headed back toward the gondolas to lunch in one of Queentown's most loved, local eateries, Fergburger. When I tell you we had burgers, it is impossible for you to fully comprehend what we actually ate. Kiwis may make the best hamburgers in the world. Their menu had burgers with beef, venison, chicken, tofu, or lamb, topped with everything from streaky bacon, avocado, all kinds of cheese, curry, and vegetables.  These burgers had to be eaten partially wrapped in paper or it'd never make it to your mouth in one piece, so heavy and dripping with savory goodness were they. Fergburger started off as a shack and is now treated like a national treasure, in Queenstown at least. We felt honored to have been able to digest a little bit of that treasure.

Later in the afternoon was our ride on a jet boat on the Kawarau River.  Everyone put on their waterproof pants and jackets and loaded up for our hour long, high speed ride down the river, complete with 360 degree spins. If we were on a road and not a river, we'd have left some serious skid marks from the hard braking and spinning. It was a blast.

With nothing else booked and the need to chill for a bit, we took in a movie at a cute little theater in town  before meeting up with Kristin, Matt, and friends at a pub for drinks.  It was nice to kick back with friendly people over pints with a rugby game on, though we didn't make it too late of a night.  We had ot be up early for our tour of Milford Sound the next morning.


Monday, May 9 - Milford Sound 

Milford Sound is one of the best known and most visited areas in the Fjordland National Park on the South Island. We booked a tour with the BBQ Bus so we could sit back and enjoy the 5 hour ride there and back, which was great first thing in the morning when the fog gave us all good reason to nod off for a bit.  

Our driver and guide, Nick, told us stories from local lore, as well as the real stories of how several of New Zealand's animals came to the islands. Rabbits were introduced for hunting way back by the Brits, then when they did what rabbits do, the stoat was introduced to control the exploding rabbit population, a mean little cousin of the ferret.  Stoats were ideal because they can run, climb, swim, whatever to catch a bite to eat, and they eat almost anything.  Unfortunately, the stoats soon caught on that whereas rabbits ran very quickly, the native kiwi bird did not quite have speed on their side.  Kiwi birds are ground-dwelling birds with round bodies, that apparently are heaven on a plate to a stoat. It is due in large part to this that the kiwi has become an endangered species in NZ.

Something we saw a lot of on our way out to Milford were deer farms, something we didn't expect. Just as beef cattle are raised for their meat, and sheep raised for their wool (and lambs), deer here are raised in the same way. It was a little strange at first to pass by fenced in fields of adult deer with their antlers sawed off, but it made sense as venison is a popular meat choice in many places.

We made a stop in the town of Te Anau for some breakfast and a pick-up before we got to Milford. Before meeting Jamie from Fresno, Chris and I wandered down the road from where Nick parked the van to get a couple of pies from a tiny roadside shop.  Clearly all those deer farms had made us hungry, for we both went for a venison pie for breakfast. Yum. We have GOT to learn to make meat pies!

Along the way we made several stops to admire more of the area's unique characteristics, and it was nice to get out of the van and take a short walk here and there. Our stops allowed for short walks through forest to see a couple of lakes and a gorgeous chasm carved out by the rushing waters.

                         
                           Mirror Lake

        The walk to Lake Gunn

The Chasm

One really great thing about visiting New Zealand in the late fall is that it's NOT tourist season, and every tour we went on reflected this in its low numbers of people.  It was nice.  Our group of five (all American) was joined only by two other groups on the cruise boat, so there was plenty of room and plenty of food at the nice little lunch buffet.  We found it a little odd that the food was mostly Asian, but hey, it was a good deal.

The day was mostly sunny and the water was beautiful.  The heavy low-hanging clouds lolled on the tops of mountains around us, but that just added to the beauty of it all. We saw one seal asleep on some rocks, got right up under a gorgeous waterfall, and I tried not to fall (more than once) on my rear when the boat tilted.

There's something about being out in the middle of something so enormous as this.  When the boat's engines were quieted, the only sounds came from birds and waterfalls.  The silence between is something beautiful, too, as there seems to be nothing but you and the air you breathe for a moment out on the water.  It's easy to forget that there are people around you and you start to wonder when you last heard silence so heavy and calm.

The drive back to Queenstown was as beautiful, as the fog had burned off in the afternoon sun and we could see the landscape around us. I'm drawn to water, be it sea or lake.  As I look over our pictures, it's apparent that the photos below are my favorite to take.

It was a full day and we were saturated by the amazing beauty of this place.  Until tomorrow then.

Queenstown, NZ & Kristin's Wedding

Saturday, May 7
South Island

We slept a glorious 14 hours without interruption - FOURTEEN! And being that we went to bed at the same time as your grandparents the night before, we were up early and ready for the day.

Good morning, Queenstown - the view from our room by Lake Wakatipu.

First stop, the Saturday Artist Market downtown to get a taste of Queenstown before the wedding that afternoon.

Across the street from our hotel, looking left...

...and looking right.

The walk to town and the market.

Local artists set up by the wharf every Saturday to sell their wares, and I'm a sucker for local artists. Across the tables were hand-painted Maori designs, flattened beer bottle clocks, pottery, jewelry, and knitwear. There was even a man with his guitar nearby to add music to our shopping experience.

The Hat Lady

She said this one brought out my eyes.

We walked around by the water for a while, soaking up the early day sunshine and beautiful view of Lake Wakatipu and the Remarkables, the mountain range beyond.

Across from the wharf, we wandered into a park where frisbee golf is a serious sport, and trees from around the world have been planted to create a multicultural collection.

A big tree and me :)

The colors were astonishing as we ambled along the pathways, over tiny bridges and hills rising above the lake.  It was a beautifully calm way to begin the day.  Next stop: Kristin and Matt's wedding!

Although a missed email about changing ceremony times made for a slightly late arrival, we got there in time to watch Kristin and Matt take their vows inside a gorgeous little chapel atop a hill at the Stoneridge Estate.  The ceremony was short and sweet, then it was time for pictures before the rain swept in.

Matt, mother of the bride, and Kristin

Luckily there were drinks and hors d'oeuvres awaiting us inside, alongside stone fireplaces and beneath  exposed-beam ceilings - it was all very romantic. Matt's family comes from Auckland, and there were a bunch of them there for the big day, all wonderfully friendly and welcoming to the handful of Americans that made the trip. By the end of the night, we'd managed to not only make tentative dinner plans with one set of cousins once in Auckland at the end of our trip, but plans to get together while in Edinburgh in August with another pair who happens to currently live there. 

The food was fabulous, the company even better, and it was cool to be at the wedding of the girl who once dyed her hair green and wore green eyeliner for lipstick, the same girl who introduced me to punk music and threw me a surprise party for my seventeenth birthday.  

I met Kristin in the 9th grade at St. Petersburg High School. I was insecure and shy, and she was not.  Kristin had a strong sense of self then, and in her life has done it all for herself. She's the only person I've ever known who could just decide to go somewhere and make it happen. Florida to New York?  No problem. New York to Australia?  Sure! How about New Zealand, with a couple stints working in Antarctica? Why not! And now here she was, marrying the man of her dreams, a Kiwi, in his homeland and starting on the next chapter of life.  

It was a fantastic way to end our first real day in Queenstown, and an even better way to kick off our trip. What could be better than celebrating with an old friend and her new, great family.

Thanks for the good time, Wilson family!

  

And Away We Go To Circle the Globe: Our Trip to New Zealand

Wednesday - Friday, May 4-6

It's true.  This trip would, in fact, have us circle the Earth from start to finish, which made it all the more exciting as we took off on the 4th of May.

First to London...easy two hours;

It was a long morning that began a very long day, but we were up for it!

A couple of ciders at Heathrow were in order in preparation of the first half of a 24-hour flight that would take us to the other side of the world.


Cider: The way to start your day!  (No worries, it was after noon.)




then on to LAX (yes, that way)... about twelve;



Getting sleepy after keeping awake - thank you Air New Zealand for your extensive TV and movie list!




then Auckland...another twelve;

Still kicking!  This thanks goes to over-the-counter sleeping pills for the one who can't do it on her own!

Look at that smile - that girl SLEPT!







until finally - two days later, local time - we touched down in Queenstown, NZ!

The ride over wasn't as bas as we thought it'd be.  Security was definitely heightened, perhaps due to Bin Laden's death.  The underwire in my bra won me a complimentary frisk in Stuttgart, and Chris won the draw for a further random search in London.  Flight #2 of the day brought a string of bad romantic comedies and nearly a season of Modern Family - it was great.  The hour and a half stop in Los Angeles for refueling between the two 12-hour stretches was interesting - I didn't know a person could become a terrorist mid-flight?  By some miracle (called Sominex) I actually managed to sleep 7 hours!  A much needed rest before our first day in New Zealand, especially since we arrived in the morning - no sleep for the jet-lagged!

(I feel like I'm using too many exclamation points...but it was exciting!!!)

A slight delay in Auckland had us to Queenstown by noontime and we were ready. First stop: Arrowtown, for a little look around.

May in New Zealand comes in late fall, but we were still there in time to catch some of the beautiful fall colors.

My favorite part of our first day was one lovely woman we spoke to in a shop in town. She happily informed us that we'd chosen the absolute worst time of year to visit, since we'd missed the best of the colors and it was damp and getting cold.  Swell, we'll just turn around and go home, then!  Then upon overhearing me say how much I was looking forward to going to sleep that night, she piped up to let us know that we wouldn't be sleeping.  No, jet-lag would have us up wide awake in the middle of the night.  Cheers, Arrowtown lady!

But my real favorite part of our first day, aside from the beautiful colors and eventually crashing that evening, was the freaking amazing venison burger I had for lunch.  (Chris had one, too, but he's not writing this.)

Is it weird that I'm including a picture?

We began our trip in Queenstown to attend the wedding of an old friend of mine, and we tried so hard to fight our bodies and stay awake until a respectable hour that first night so we could meet up after the rehearsal dinner for catching up and drinks.  But heads hit pillows and we were done.  Defeated.  Out.  At 6pm.

Mine

I've been avoiding this for weeks, writing anything here.

At first there just wasn't time.  The minute we were in the door, shaking off the day's travels and dropping our luggage on the floor at one in the morning, it was as if we were on.  Last get-togethers with departing friends, heavy-hearted goodbyes, and then scurrying to get something together for a reading event downtown with the Writer's Group.  I'm glad to say it all went off without a hitch; the Wisneskis made their train, and after, their flight, and I managed to read outside my typical zone without passing out in front of a room full of people.  

Then we took a breath.

Friends have asked when they can expect to read about New Zealand and Hong Kong, this amazing trip from which Chris and I have recently returned.  My brother has pleaded for pictures; my top ten per day, at least!  But as tends to be true of the things that don't get done, I haven't made the time to begin.  And part of that is because I've known that the first one has to be for her.

Heidi came home today, and I decided it was time to take another step toward saying goodbye.

She lived for sixteen years and three weeks.  Born in Alabama, but a Florida Gator through and through, she grew up in central Florida, spending three of those years at the University of Florida.  Well, Gainesville, anyway.  Who knew this American girl would go on to live in beautiful Tuscany for five years, and then Germany for another two and a half.  While living in the land from whence her name comes, she visited both the Alsace region of France and Prague, accompanying her people to wine tastings and get-togethers with friends.  Wherever we went, people were shocked at her age, which is probably why in the end, she seemed to age so very suddenly to me.

I've gone back and forth in my mind about what exactly to share in this blog.  A few weeks ago I was ready to write every detail of what's been going on in my mind and heart since she passed, but now I realize how very personal grief is, and that it's not all for sharing.  Some of it is just mine.

What I will share are parts of a letter I wrote to her the day she left us.  Yes, I wrote a letter to my dog - we were far away and she was going without us; it was all I could do.  Sitting on the bed in a Bed&Breakfast in Kaikoura, New Zealand with a notebook in my lap, these are some of the things I wanted to say to her:

                                                     *********************

Dear Heidi,

...Thank you for being all mine when I lacked for a feeling of uncritical acceptance.  Thank you for keeping me grounded when my college days could have brought me trouble.  Thank you for being my comfort and my company, my piece of home when I was newly married, far from home, and lonely, trying to find my place in this new life... I will miss scooping you up and forcing snuggles upon you, ignoring your protests and harmless snarls.  I will miss waking up too early to let you out, and I will miss your Death Breath.  I will remember how high you used to jump, how much you hated to be brushed, how easily annoyed you were when bothered at bedtime, how well you got along with any and every other animal, your three overnight escapes and returns home, and games of hide and seek around the house...  

There are so many memories you've given me, so many happinesses I hope I was able to give back.  As the moment nears, I hope your mind will wander to the sunny, carefree days we've had together and surround you with love as you fall asleep one last time.

I love you so very much.

                                                        *********************

Since we've been home many people have heard about Heidi and have stopped me to say how sorry they are.  This inevitably begins a sharing session of every pet every person in the room has ever lost, which generally stretches on long after I've had to leave the room to get back to work.  I appreciate very much that people care, and understand that we all have this need to connect over a loss.  My grief has been strange, though, and it's difficult to understand.  

When someone dies, we mourn them and remember the time we spent together.  Although I've had to say goodbye to too many people already, none of them had been such a daily fixture in my life for so many years like she was.  I think this is why Heidi's death has been so weird and so hard.  From fourteen, through high-school and college, to newlywed life and moving far from home until last month, she was my consistency.  An ever-forgiving and loving companion aside, she was a piece of my youth, my growing up, my becoming who I am right now.  Her passing brings with it a kind of goodbye to the me I once was, and the life I once had.  Ready or not, here I go into the next major chapter of life.  And I will always think of her with a smile, though my eyes may tear.   

Because in this life there will be few treasured experiences that truly belong to me, but having her and loving her, and now missing her do.  They are mine, and so was she.  And I am grateful.

Heidi 

April 20, 1995 - May 13, 2011

Live in Peace

It isn't Veteran's Day, but today I'm thinking about a few soldiers.

Last night Chris was reading through various news websites and called me over when he came across one website's photo of the day.  It was taken at a memorial service for a fallen Army soldier, killed not too long ago in Afghanistan by a roadside bomb.  We didn't know him.  We did, however, know the man wheeled to the front of the room, saluting with tears burning down his face, and the woman pushing his chair, his wife.  Even in a partial body brace and device holding his head up, this man's anguish took over his whole body, and brought me to tears in the comfort and safety of our living room.  It was difficult to look at, because this is the first time we've actually known someone seriously wounded by war, and that connection suddenly made all the madness very personal.

Working with and among military communities, we've known many people who have and will deploy to fight for their country.  Anyone who comes through such intense and violent experiences must carry some wounds.  Everyone we've known until now has come home safely, though not without difficult images burned into their minds, no doubt.  We had known this couple from the photograph in another place.  I'd even begun to make plans for getting together when it looked for a while like we'd all be moving on to the same new location.  But circumstances took them in another geographical direction, and that was that.  It is the nature of this lifestyle to run into old friends clear across the world, we just hadn't expected to see them again in this way.  

As a non-military person whose only ties to which had previously been through a grandfather, now passed on, and a cousin I haven't seen since I was a kid, it was easy to maintain a certain distance from the stress of "living military."  The faith a family must have to say goodbye when their loved one leaves with no guarantee of return; the strength a person must have to see what they see and do what they do in the face of terrible war, and that which the family and friends at home carry to get through the days of unknowing; and being devoted to something they believe in enough to carry on with love and pride.  Most people we've only known after their deployments, and some share stories and others don't.  A good friend of ours deployed last year and that was the first time I felt real and deep worry, because I know him and his family, and that dipped into my actual life.  I listen to my friends whose husbands have deployed or will soon and I feel for them, their apprehension, their struggle, but I know I will never truly know their fear nor their strength in this way.  It is a life they've signed on for because their partners did, and although they remain behind when duty calls, they are fighting the battles every day alongside every person in uniform, just on a different front.  It is one of the many reasons I love them and have such respect for them.  It's so much easier when you don't know anybody "over there."

The man in the wheelchair survived an attack that took two of his brothers in arms.  He is lucky.  He got to come home to his family.  When we first heard he'd been injured it was jarring, and we quickly jumped onto FaceBook to see some welcome home pictures his wife posted, their daughter hugging her father tightly in his hospital bed with damp eyes and pink cheeks.  We couldn't believe he'd been hurt, though I'm not sure where the logic was in that.  But we know him, I remember thinking.  Relieved he'd come home alive, I suppose we just let the current of every day life carry us on.  But this photo did something different.  I'm having trouble dislodging the weight of it from my chest.  It's one thing, I believe, to look at pictures of someone bandaged up in a hospital bed with a smile on their face because they're surrounded by family and happy to be home.  It's quite another to witness the naked anguish gripping someone when faced with a pair of empty Army boots set upon a table.  Seeing the sorrow makes it more real to someone who's never been there, and my chest constricts as I type this because of it.  

I'm not really sure what I thought it might accomplish, but I felt moved to write about this today.  When Chris and I first began this journey together far from home, we were the last people who would have expected the two of us to be associated with the military, let alone government.  We, you see, were a regular couple of liberals who didn't believe in, nor support war or many of the decisions our government made.  And while years down the road, we still don't agree with everything that goes on, we have a better understanding of the most important part of the American military: the people.  People are not their government, the same as you are not your boss (unless you are, in which case, bravo!).  People are living, breathing, hurting, growing, learning, loving beings who all strive for basically the same thing - to be happy and to be loved.  Safety is a part of that.  Peace is a part of that.  Freedom is part of that, and not just the freedom usually spoken of in times of war and defending our country, but the freedom to live and be however fulfills one's life.  I think it must be easy for us to forget the people in the dust clouds of the fighting, otherwise we wouldn't need so much reminding.

I didn't know the man whose shoes sat on that table in the photograph, but I hope that he will rest in peace wherever he is.  As for our friend who came home a little broken, and everyone who comes home or welcomes a person in uniform back...for all of us, I hope that someday we may live that way.

Mangoes

I know it's been a while, but I haven't forgotten you, dear blog.  Here, I wrote this for you today while I was downtown.  Just for you.  Random thoughts.  Mostly about mangoes.

                                           **************************************

Please tell me what is better than a mango.  That juicy, sweet, earthy flavor is like nothing else, and I find myself letting slip little squeals whenever I come across anything mango these days.

German mango nektar (juice)
      
        dehydrated mango slices

                 mango margaritas

What's nice about it is that around here there is an abundance of all natural options.  No sugar added, no unpronounceable chemicals to lengthen the shelf-life, just pure and innocent (albeit sliced and smashed) mango.

Circumstances brought me downtown today and it's magnificently gorgeous out.  Although there may or may not be moisture from the ground slowly seeping through my pants, enjoying a lovely little lunch in the grass on my own is really kind of wonderful.  I discovered a tiny (and somewhat new) take away lunch shop as I wandered toward Koenig Strasse, though I don't remember the name.  Yummy and healthy wraps and salads, and the one I took to the park had chicken breast, eggplant cream, carrots, peppers, arugula and pecorino.  It was pretty spectacular.  That and my all natural mango juice made for the perfect picnic for one on this pretty, pretty day.  The flowers have sprung from their winter slumber to assure us that Spring is really here, and there's not a cloud in the sky.  People are strewn about the stretches of grass that frame Schloss Platz, separating the walking paths and fountains.  They are reading, eating, talking, writing, kissing, laughing, and watching.  I've been craving the sounds of the ocean with all this beautiful sunshine, but the gentle murmur of voices and distant rumble of cars somewhere nearby aren't a bad consolation on a day like this.

Why do we focus so much on the weather?  We make fun of the trivial nature of asking about the weather, but we always ask anyway, don't we?  Weather, after all, has a strange power of our moods, and even our level of productivity at times.  And in a land where it really feels like the sky is smeared with thick, grey sludge 9 months out of the year, sunshine is a cause for celebration.

A sheltie just passed by on Koenig Strasse and it makes me think of Ginger and Sasha, the good dogs they were.  I had another dream last night about saving Heidi.  At first I was searching for a lost Heidi, but then I thankfully found her, calling her to me gently so she wouldn't bolt again.  I had her, but then she ran again, and ended up falling into a pond, immediately sinking to the murky bottom.  I dove in after her and pulled her out, and everyone was okay.  Why do I have so many dreams like this?  Always searching for her after she's taken off, or saving her from the likes of monstrous cars and mad dogs?  I'm always protecting her, and it's so stressful.  Maybe it's realizing a 16 year-old pup doesn't realistically have a whole lot of time left, and my subconscious refuses to allow her departure from her life and mine.  I dread the day that turns out to be her final one, but hope for the strength to be there to lovingly usher her out of this life.

Really?  This is what I'm thinking about right now?

As in all things, I suppose, there comes a time to go, and right now, it's time for an iced coffee and a walk for me.

                                    **************************************

So now I find myself sitting upstairs at one of the Starbucks nearby, sipping my caramel frappuccino and breathing a little bit of life back into my blog.  My poor, neglected blog.  And I know this post is rather random and rambling, but so am I.  Before staking claim to a comfy chair and table as I picked up my delicious and indulgent treat, I asked about another drink waiting for its ride down into someone else's tummy.  The color caught my eye.  Upon answering me and witnessing my reaction, the lovely Starbucks girl asked if I'd like a sample, as there was some left over in the blender.  With a gleeful grin I accepted and walked away sipping on a little bit of frozen mango smoothie.

Mangoes.  Happy.  Me.