Trip Start Nov 29, 2005
79Trip End Nov 21, 2006
Map your own trip!
Show trip route
I got into Auckland at the ungodly hour of 6:30 am, roughly 24 hours after my flight from JFK to LAX took off (as a quick note, American Airlines sucks. They don't give you food for the six-hour flight and the only movie they showed was "Must Love Dogs." Although Qantas treats you nicely, their movie selection was also shite. I wound up watching Wedding Crashers two and a half times). I figured it would be more ideal to shake off the jetlag on a beautiful surfing beach than a city that everybody seems to hate, so I subjected myself to two hours on a bus, three hours in a bus terminal and another hour on a bus to get to Raglan
Raglan, though, put me at ease. I walked around for a few minutes, basically enough time to see the whole town, and already I was feeling better. Raglan is a two-block town that you could wind up being bored in after 10 minutes or wake up one day and realize you've been there a month. The hostel I stayed in was fantastic. There was a big open grassy area in the middle with hammocks and a table with all the dorm rooms circling around the outside. Within a couple hours of checking in, I had already gained two couches to crash on once I'm in Europe.
One of the guys I met, a hilarious Irish guy from Cork, came up with one of the best ideas I've seen to make remembering people a lot more fun. He puts a title at the top of a journal page and you have to write a one-page story that loosely has to do with the title. You can't think, just write till you fill up a page. There's some deranged stuff in that journal.
The next morning I took a kayak out and paddled around the harbor a little just to get some exercise and relax at the same time. I then headed back to Hamilton -- the place where I had to wait for three hours -- with a German couple from Cologne I met
I woke up three hours later, amazingly hangover-free and headed to Waitomo, a one-block town famous for its caves that are covered with glow worms (they look like small neon green dots, and in fact, they are glowing maggot poo.
And that's that, in a million words or less. Now I'm in Rotorua, a city famous for its hot springs. Which means it has that lovely sulfur smell wafting through the city. Nothing like the smell of rotten eggs in the mornin. Smells like victory. Well, now I'm off to get rolled down a hill in a big inflatable ball filled with water.