The Power of Fear

Upon arrival to the shop in Queenstown, and after being weighed (about 90 kilos each) Libby drew unique things on our hands – I received a champagne glass

Daniel is absolutely pumped and I am a bit uncertain after being weighed and filling out all the necessary forms

Multiple different jump styles: Daniel and I both ended up choosing different ones that we had originally planned

I pose with the marquis symbol for the company

In the van on the way to the jump point

Top to bottom and right to left:
1. Shot of the jump point taken from the “treehouse” where the video-making equipment, till, and other equipment were stored
2. Daniel considers what this will be like jump from 109m up, then freefall 60m from the jump point, then to be swing at speeds up to 150km/h in a 200m arc across the canyon below
3. Daniel gets harnessed up
4. Daniel and I with our guide Steve the Scotsman back in Queenstown following our successful jumps

I have someone to thank. Sometimes the power to confront and overcome our fears comes from places unexpected. At times we dig deep inside, but cannot muster the courage on our own. For this reason I am so grateful to have the unique community that we have shared on this trip. Though it is at times chafing, and at others grating, the overall sentiment has been extremely positive and I will say that each one of us played crucial roles in ensuring that we had everything necessary to complete the journey, and that each day contained a new adventure and experience in a country that is chock-full of them.

My brother was the one who had never faltered in his desire for adrenaline-pumping experiences. He says that he relishes the moments in which he finds himself at the precipice, and must summon the courage to hurl himself over the edge into the abyss. There have been many occasions for this, beginning early in Hawaii when my good friend and host Andy May led us up to a secluded waterfall. There we found a jump point and several jumpers, but the water antifreeze green, and so I was the only one of the three of us to make the jump (T-1). Later, upon arrival to New Zealand, some newly made friends led us to another waterfall with a shallow pool outside Piha, where all of us jumped (T-2, D-1), and then the wind was taken from our sails when all the boys made the jump in the buff! What a crackup! The next opportunity came when we all made jumps into a swirling river that we found on an overpass just after leaving Hokitika, when after Carrie had returned to the car, the three of us made the jump in the buff (T-3, D-2). There was some measure of preliminary fear, but once we overcame it and made the jump, we discovered a quite liberating experience. The next opportunity presented itself just shy of Wanaka where we discovered the azure pools spanned by a bridge 10m above the water, which gives a brilliant vista down into the frigid, deep-blue water. After testing depth and temperature, Daniel decided to go for it (photo of him on the precipice in my previous post). He did it! There is video footage of this that will be posted here at some point (T-3, D-3). That day all I could bring myself to do was dive in the water, but that took some courage in and of itself as the water registered at an icy 5 degrees Celsius.

And so we arrived to Queenstown, the heart of adventure activities in NZ, and with Daniel chomping at the bit to do either bungee or skydive, we learn about the Canyon Swing. Bianca at hostel reception did a great job of selling it, which included her showing us her own video uploaded to Facebook (ours will be uploaded as soon as we have sufficient internet connection). It was at this point that I realized both that I  was petrified of doing something like this Canyon Swing, and that Daniel and I were even for jumps for the trip. Of course he was already sold on the prospect. I had a few hours to consider it, and I spent most of them sleeping. The next day came, and though I went to reception, I did not make the booking. Something inside me was still unsure. When Daniel awoke, he said go for it, and I returned to reception only to find that we could not get in until 4:30 in the afternoon. I confirmed with Daniel and the others that this would fit our schedule, then made the booking at around 10:30am.

My heart fluttered for the next several hours, and as we prepared to walk down to the shop in Queenstown, I could not think straight nor readily handle anything fragile, lest it drop from my quivering hands. Daniel never seemed to flinch. My heart was in my throat for the whole of the form-filling and weighing, the way there, and all the way up to the point where I found myself on the precipice.

I have a fear of heights. Not a debilitating one, but then again looking down into a canyon 109m below, and knowing that the only thing between you and the river below is a rope tied to your harness, has a way of amplifying that fear. I have long feared what would happen on an occasion such as this. So I slid carefully to the edge, counted to 3 over a period of 40 seconds, and on my own, with a few words of encouragement, but no pushes, made the jump.

It was so good, so enjoyable, and so exhilarating, that I had to do it again. Daniel and I both did second jumps.

Fear overcome. Check that one off the list.

Lawn Bowling with Colin and Heather Dunn in Foxton Beach

Tongariro Outtakes

Tongariro Fast Forward

Best watched in HD: Click on the quality option in the bottom right hand corner on Youtube to change to 720p HD video. The default quality is 360.

The Confluence of Passion and Vocation

Celebrating the glory of the sunset

Even as I write these words I begin to perceive the inextricable connection between them. The word confluence is not used on accident, but rather indicates the river-like flow of our lives, that eventually either leads us from our passion to our vocation, or from our vocation to our passion. I believe that we are all seekers on a journey, even perhaps like the Fellowship of the Ring, we march through our lives with a purpose and a goal, even if we are ourselves unaware of them. Immune to our volition, life passes perpetually onward toward our ultimate destiny, whether we seek it or not. There are many different ways to live, including the allowance of life to dictate our destiny, but this amounts to succumbing to fate, or acting on instinct instead of exercising the power of our free will. For we make our own decisions and play a role in whether our lives are ordinary or extraordinary. At the end we have only ourselves to blame for failures and mistakes, and ourselves to vindicate for any successes along the way. The journey looks different for everyone, and hence we must caution ourselves whenever we feel lead to condemn another’s path. There is no wrong path, only separate paths that lead in converging and variant directions. All lead somewhere. Before electing one, we must surely consider where each path leads and consider how our lives might be made manifest upon them, but ultimately we decide whither we will go and what we will do. Whether a path is good or bad is relative to a certain degree, because we all must choose according to our own hearts, souls, and inclinations, and in many cases our faiths, however there is also natural law to consider whereby a “good” path causes no undue bodily harm, etc. to any and all parties affected by it, including ourselves.

Contemplating the 10m (30 feet) plunge from the bridge down into the Blue “Azure” Pools at a temperature of 5 degrees C (34 degrees F), outside Wanaka

First, the rational approach or finding our passion by way of our vocation. Sometimes we choose a path without fully comprehending why we have chosen it. And if the path were something found in the depths of our minds, something that rationally appeals to and fulfills us, then perhaps we have found ourselves at our vocation. Vocation may be marriage to the man or woman we love or commitment to be a minister of the Church, or even the life’s work that we have chosen – a career, encompassed in the fullness of a lifestyle as well. Given that we have sufficiently contemplated our decision, this vocation can very well lead us to our passion or passions. Passion comes in the daily work that we do and flows directly from this vocational choice. If the vocation and passion have indeed met, then we feel the energy and support of that confluence that will aid us in our every travail or triumph and indeed our vocations will be the origin for many of them.

Enjoying time off at Foxton Beach, North Island

There is a danger in considering our paths too rationally, and hence a caveat for those of us who seek our vocations this way. We may overthink and over-rationalize a decision. An example taken from my own life: “I have an adeptness for mathematics and science, therefore I should study engineering and work in the field.”  This rationalization only proves true if engineering truly fulfills me in the deepest part of who I am, and I find myself lead to become the best version of myself meanwhile I study and work as an engineer. If I do not, then I need walk away and consider other paths.

Secondly, is the option to follow our passion to our vocation. Passion on its own is more unpredictable, momentary, and emotional; however at the same time more exciting! Passion arises when we discover a pursuit or person that makes us come alive. It is a feeling, an emotion, a thought, an awakening of the soul, and it overcomes us much more readily than the arduousness of rational thought. Inasmuch as it drives us and fills us, it also holds the capacity to destroy us. Passion may be sought in a loved pursuit or person, or sometimes surfaces in a moment where we least expect it. Passion can lead to vocation. There are others of us who follow our hearts, observing where they lead, while making some significant decisions along the way, but mostly reflecting on how each sign along the way makes us feel, and whether it continues to stoke that passion.

Passion develops very differently in these two respective manners. If it flows from our vocation, then I reckon it will tend toward an ongoing, long-lasting sort of passion, whereas the passion that develops out of thin air would tend to be stronger, but at the same time more fleeting.

Overcoming misgivings and taking the leap

I suppose that all of this is to say that there is a healthy balance between the weight that passion and rational thought should hold in reference to our vocations. Each one of us is at a different point. Some have chosen their lives and established themselves, while others of us wander the world, uncertain even of what tomorrow will bring. Some have opted for the middle ground, but remain uncertain as to what the future will ultimately bring upon return from a temporary or casual job or pursuit. Life is interesting, and I think that we have something to learn from one another. The last scenario I described readily applies to my friend Jenna, who has taken a year off to teach English as part of the French education system in Tours. Read her entry on the future here:

All in all, life is an adventure, and though there are certainly ways in which we can go about more prudently or recklessly living it, we each must find our own way. And in the end we are the only ones that have to answer to ourselves for the lives that we have led, save for Christians who have the Lord to answer to, but also his support along the way. Would that we would all follow the deepest desires of our hearts, well tempered by the power of our intellect, in order that we might find the most fulfilling lives possible for each one of us. For if each one of us were to become the best possible version of ourselves, how much greater could this world be?

Making a mark on the world

For further reflection on this see Jenna McIntyre's reflection on a similar theme at her blog "A Year in France"

http://jenna-in-france.blogspot.com/2011/01/3-months-remaining-plan-upon-return-to.html

Thermal New Zealand

New Latin Missal

We have now attended mass a grand total of two times in New Zealand, and the kiwi Catholics are to be commended for their way of integrating the new English translation of the Latin missal. The first mass we attended was at St. Mary’s Church in Nelson, where the presider was an older kiwi gentleman, assisted by an Indian-born priest on holiday from the North Island. The experience was a bit cramped as we showed up late and underdressed after a long relaxing day on the lawn of the Anglican Church, which stands on Nelson’s principal promontory and is the most recognizable monument in the area.

Front view of Anglican Church on the hill in Nelson, NZ (South Island) including the bell tower and the steps leading down to the city centre (behind the camera)

When we arrived to St. Mary’s we had to make room for ourselves in one of the tightly gathered pews next to an older couple who kept giving us looks at the slightest sound we made. We were not overly unruly, it was just that the mass had somehow changed, and it took us a while to realize that the correct responses, taken from the new missal, were being projected on the walls on either side of the altar. After we realized this, we made much less of a disturbance until it came time to kneel. At this point you must understand just how closely these pews were placed together, for Mike’s 6’7” frame let out an audible groan as he tried to fit himself in the small space. I went down for my respective reverential position and discovered that the pews were in fact much more sturdy and harder than I had imagined, and so mine was a groan of surprised pain.

View of the crucifix at St. Mary’s Church in Nelson

Nonetheless, we gathered ourselves up, fumbled through the new Nicene Creed, responded with the now requisite, “And also with your Spirit,”  and quietly followed along with the revised Credo, until we reached one of the more unique new lines of the Mass, which actually changes what was previously my favorite line of the mass: “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” The theological explanation for the addition of the word "soul" is that this is in fact the part of the body for which we seek God’s healing, and the reason for the change in the wording of the first part is that it seeks to better mirror the line of the centurion in the Bible who expresses great faith and humility when he tells our Lord that He need not even enter into his home, but has only to say the word, and the centurion’s servant shall be healed. Though it will take some time to acclimate to these changes, the English now clearly mirrors the Spanish mass parts, which I appreciate and which have used more literal translations for as long as I know of. I look forward to reading more into these changes, and understanding why they have taken place.

Though I am as staunch a Catholic as any, I appreciate the Church making the effort to enhance the richness of the Mass, which encompasses the source and summit of our faith, the Holy Eucharist - Jesus Christ becoming bodily present in the bread and wine that we share at every Mass. And having just read the line from Matthew’s Gospel: “By your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned” (12:37) we need to consider wisely the words that we use, for we will be called to account for them whether in this life or the next.

Representation of Da Vinci’s Last Supper portrayed on the front of the altar at St. Mary’s

On a lighter note, the Catholic kiwis seem to be very much devoted to their faith, though I would not say that the majority of kiwis are overly zealous in their religion. My experiences at the Catholic parishes here in New Zealand have been very encouraging and I look forward to continuing to explore Catholicism in all of its manifestations throughout the various countries of the world. In short, I am impressed by how quickly the New Zealand bishops have moved to integrate the new English translation of the missal, and am overall pleased with the new wordings. They do of course imply a great deal of expense in terms of the learning materials, new prayer books, and hymnals that must be produced, however if in the end it leads to richer, more fulfilling experience of the Catholic faith worldwide, then I am all for it!

Great shot of St. Mary’s taken by Carrie as the sun set after 5pm Saturday night mass

May God bless you all and thank you very much for your support in our journeys.

Addie before she had a name

For those of you who are a bit curious as to how the purchase of the car went down, here is a bit more info and a video that we took straight away after we purchased the 1994 Mazda Capella 626 station wagon! About 1 hour after this video was shot, we booked it to the airport only to find that Mike was not there. This however did not dampen our excitement: we successfully bought a car in Auckland, NZ and she has taken us all the way down now to Wanaka the tip of the South Island.


The night of 4–January when we purchased Addie from Mohammed who was the proprietor of Traveller’s International, a hostel just down the road from where we stayed at the Skyway Lodge

What's that in the bush?

From top to bottom: 
1. In our sleep sheets, reading before we sleep, thinking there is nothing wrong
2. We hear something rustling in the brush . . . *click* with my flash- But nothing.
3. Moments later I am outside the tent in nothing but my underwear, it's 50 degrees, and I'm crawling through the bush to find hedgehogs.
4. They freeze when I shine the flashlight in their eyes.
5. Don't pet them: even domesticated ones are full of diseases.


I hope there isn't poison ivy in New Zealand, I must have it by now if they do. What an adventure at 1 am!

Lord of the Rings river reading

Lord of the Rings river reading from Mike Rudzinski on Vimeo.

Dinner at Debbie the Couchsurfer's in Auckland

Anglican Labyrinths in Nelson

Symbols carry so much weight in our society. Should you have any doubt, just consider the significance of the golden arches, or the sign with a tent and red slash on it – no camping – we have seen a few of these along the way here in NZ, but have failed to heed them just as often! 

It is interesting to see the symbols that do recur in popular and fast food culture, be it McDonald’s, Burger King, or KFC, the latter being the one American chain in which we have indulged since being here in kiwiland. The symbols that recur in Christian churches include icons, altars, crosses and crucifixes, but this is the first time that I have ever encountered a labyrinth in a Christian context. The concept apparently reaches far back into the Middle Ages, when it was a popular means of meditation.

Squatting at the point that forms the beginning and end of the labyrinth. As compared to a maze there are no dead ends, such that one walks to the center then turns and exits from whence one came. Great for meditation, and an intriguing relic from Church history.

I found the exercise extremely settling and was able to simply let all of my thoughts go, considering only the items of utmost importance in my mind.

The church in which this lay was set on the top of a high point in the city of Nelson on the South Island. The day that we arrived to the city, we were immediately drawn to the gothic-looking cathedral, and so set out our groceries on the side of the hill. As we prepared sandwiches and consumed some beverages, wouldn’t you know it, but a whole wedding party converged upon us! We were of course looking quite shabby after several consecutive days of camping and they dressed to the hilt for the big day. We immediately offered to move, as they planned to photograph at the big tree right near us, but they assured us that we were fine, and with kiwi hospitality encouraged us to stay right where we were. Absolutely amazing!

Side view of the Anglican Church where we passed the afternoon of 15-Jan.

The rest of the afternoon would have passed lazily there, but for the incessant bells that rang in the tower and inhibited us catching up on sleep. However from that moment we were infatuated with the small city, which hostel – the Palace Backpackers – became our home for the next four days, and which people were very kind and formed a beautiful setting for Daniel’s birthday on 17-Jan. We left finally on 18-January.

Carrie sits on the bed in our room at the Palace Backpackers – Nelson NZ. Highly recommended with more pictures and videos from our experiences there to come!

By far though, the most memorable moment in the city was the Cathedral and its labyrinth, and I find myself hearkening back to the thoughts of that time ever more as we continue along the at times crazy and wild track we follow through NZ!

Poached Eggs, Pesto, and Toast

One of the greatest things about exploring a new country is the experimentation with the local food combinations. Through a variety of different economic influences such as a supply and demand, the availability of ingredients and certain spices, as well as the impetus for each culture to share its own cuisine leads to a variety of unique plates. Here in NZ the cuisine varies as widely as the population. Without knowing too many of the specifics, NZ is a nation of immigrants as much as the United States, though people tend more often to come from India and Asia. And in our case, a man who had moved to NZ from Algeria.

Though not directly related to this post, this photo provides a sense of the “foreign-ness” that we here experience every day. I do not suspect one could ever find the term “tepid” used in the US to describe what is essentially a public hot bath.

On this particular day, I had headed out to the Auckland suburbs to drop Addie for her cooling system refit, and hence was without transport. Walking for a couple 20 minutes, I never found the library, but happened upon a fresh fruit market where I met a really nice girl from Pakistan, who went by the name of Annie. She had decided to marry a man by the name of Ben and had opened a “fruit and vege” shop, which litter the countryside and the streets of bigger cities throughout the country. She and her husband had traveled a ton though, and her stories were phenomenal. On my way there I had discovered that our mobile phone had miraculously died, and so I had no way of getting ahold of Mike, Carrie, and Daniel, who were assumedly waking up by this time at Debbie’s place.

Daniel is baffled by the mainstream use of the corresponding term for “napkins” in Australia and NZ

As it turned out I had little to worry about, as Daniel was sleep-deprived (as per usual) and Mike and Carrie were still recovering from the time change. This did not help me any, and yes pay phones do exist in NZ, but Debbie’s and every other useful number to me were stored in the now dead mobile phone! (I use the term “mobile” because it is the mainstream term in Australia and parts of NZ - “cell phone” usually merits you an odd look from the locals, so you make the adjustment pretty quickly).

Thus after a nice chat, Annie and I looked up all the Vodafone shops in the area, where I might possibly find a charger and get in touch with my compadres. They all turned out to be at least a 20 minute walk away, so being the shy individual that I am, I began to ask in the shops surrounding Annie’s fruit and vege. After enquiring with several Indians and locals, I came to nothing, though my last enquiry gave me a lead. And so half an hour later I was seated at the lone table in the Vodafone shop, charging up the mobile, and waiting for Debbie to bring everyone over so that we could proceed with our day.

A good view of one of the types of buildings that comprise the Auckland skyline

By this time I had been up for a while, so after a good deal of journaling, I decided to try to find something to eat in the area. My compadres were soon to arrive, but I was sure that I could find something quickly. So I bid adieu and poka to my awkward Vodafone friends, and proceeded to find two gentlemen smoking cigarettes outside of what appeared to be a pleasant breakfast-style café. The time was just shy of noon if I recall correctly. Irregardless, viewing the menu, I noted a combination of foods I had never before imagined: “Poached Eggs, Pesto & Toast – $6.50.” I couldn’t help my curiosity, and the price was right, so this is how I ended up in the car chowing down on a combo that was probably one of the most novel and best breakfast ideas I have learned in recent memory.

Munching away, I shared it with my newly arrived comrades, and thanks to Debbie once again, we made our way to the market and collected nearly $250NZ in goods and supplies. We were unable to find some things, and unable to bring ourselves to pay what was asked for others ($12NZ for duct tape!), but in the end it was and has been the novelties such as the poached eggs, pesto & toast that has made each day of this journey ever more interesting, and ever more invaluable.

Gnats were everywhere this morning: 1.20.11

"Oh no," said Carrie outside our tent. "They are everywhere."
I woke to the sound of frantic swatting this morning at our campsite outside Nelson Lakes National Park near Murchison, New Zealand. Thousands of gnats were instantly upon us, and we made it out of our campsite in record time- one hour, our best yet. For the next 60 kilometers to Murchison we kept feeling their bites and finding them hiding in bags. We are all covered in little red spots but are happy to have escaped.

We've been a bit behind on our blog postings and are doing our best to catch up with limited internet availability. Thought it would be good to post something that happened just a few hours ago. Thanks to all our followers, you inspire us to keep going!

Lunch in Auckland

Addie before she had a name….

For those of you who are a bit curious as to how the purchase of the car went down, here is a bit more info and a video that we took straight away after we purchased the car! About 1 hour after this video was shot, we booked it to the airport only to find that Mike was not there. This however did not dampen our excitement: we bought a car in NZ!

The night of 4–January when we purchased Addie from Mohammed who is the proprietor of Traveller’s International, a hostel just down the road from where we stayed at the Skyway Lodge

Auckland Arrival photos

Above, top to bottom: JAN. 5, 2011- Carrie leaving the traveler's international car lot where we bought Adelaide, our 1994 Mazda Station Wagon; Tim driving in our car on the way into Auckland city center; A view of Auckland's sky tower, the tallest structure in New Zealand at 328 meters(1076 ft) with views up to 80 km(50 miles); I'm still not sure what this sign is referring to; a gigantic Santa Claus in January. Merry Christmas.

Arrival in Auckland . . . where is everybody?!

Gorilla Camping

Behold a gorilla campsite:

Mitch the rental car and our white tent and yellow rain fly in the background. The paddock to behind the fence was the source for the cattle-like smell.

For those not yet introduced to the concept, gorilla camping entails driving to a secluded spot in any country in the world, setting up camp, and staying the night. Now the car you see pictured here is most certainly not Adi, because she was out of commission for the weekend, and Lance the mechanic, was benevolent enough to provide us with a rental car, for no extra charge, no extra papers to sign, essentially no questions asked, and off we went to continue on our holiday! It was truly amazing! However after an amazing first couple of days with a wonderful Couchsurfing host named Debbie in a place called Titirangi, outside Auckland, we at this point had no place to stay.

“Where should we go?” seemed to be the question on everyone’s lips. Though dinner was taken care of, as we had eaten in the car, and after we passed some potential spots at a golf course, and some other just off the motorway 5 star destinations, we settled on heading toward signs for a motorbike course and a national forest. Finding nothing, we turned on to a spot with a small A-frame shed with no door, and an unenclosed triangle of land on the edge of a farming paddock, which seemed to be a place for cattle, as the smell prevailed in the night air. Undaunted, we pulled out the tent and Mike and I laid down in it, and then Dan and Carrie prepared to sleep sitting up in our rental car, lovingly nicknamed “Mitch.” It did not take long and we were out. The morning however brought many surprises.

Mike breaks camp, and Carrie’s waking leg in the foreground

The morning sun in New Zealand is quite strong, and easily permeates and warms the fabric of our tent. Thus the morning dew led to a damp and yet humid awakening to the sounds of heavy construction equipment and men’s cries. Somewhat puzzled, I rolled over a few times to catch the last bit of sleep before I would allow the morning to begin in earnest. When I finally did decide to leave the tent, I was a bit surprised to find what I saw….

We were in fact across the road from the edge of a massive stone quarry, wherein multiple workers were making their way in massive dump trucks, and backhoes could be heard working at the earth below. On our side of the road, we found that the fence indeed enclosed a paddock, but we never saw the cows for which an odor gave ample evidence.

Road on which we camped: quarry to the left, our camp and cattle paddock to the right.

As I emerged from the tent, I heard one of the workers yell down,
“Put a shirt on,” and from that point I was certain that one of them would eventually make their way down to “evict” us from our gorilla campsite. However, no one ever came, and so I woke the others. We made tea, literally on the side of the road, prepared peanut butter and banana sandwiches (I have happily found that everyone enjoys this combination), and broke camp.

Morning and camp have broken

Throughout our morning duties, two workers did make their way down toward and past us, and both times offered a friendly wave. Stunned, I realized that we had just camped for free in a place we had none of us ever been before, in a country to which we were newly arrived, and we were now receiving friendly greetings from the people that worked in that area. Absolutely amazing, and the rest of the trip has only proven to further and amplify this compliment.

Adelaide

Front view of Addie including old Mazda logo

Rear view including license plate

Front interior, photo taken of course from the left, passenger’s side of the vehicle
Back seats including pillow and my reflection

Back of the station wagon including yellow-bagged tent, red curtains contrived from sheets

So to many, this would merely be the name of another town in Australia, however to us in the beautiful land of New Zealand, it has taken on a whole new significance. “Adi” or “Addie” has become the nickname of a 1994 Mazda Capella 626 station wagon, that has so far carried us safely down from the northern island NZ metropolis of Auckland, to Wellington and within striking distance of the south island.

Carrie and Dan with the title to Addie shortly after our sealing the deal

The story began upon our arrival to NZ via our various methods on 4-Jan-2011. Dan and I got in at around 5am, jet-lagged and more than a bit exhausted from our sporadic sleep over the course of the 4-hour flight. We survived though, stumbled through customs, where we had to resort to displaying our Australian working holiday visas to the customs agent in order to prove that we would someday again leave New Zealand. It wasn’t until long after we left the airport terminal that I now understand the overwhelming desire never to leave this country.

Nonetheless, at around 6am we came out into the baggage claim and transport area with no place to go, no place to stay, and no plan. But there was internet! Free SAMSUNG computer terminals that provided free internet access to anyone willing to stand and type. Within minutes I pulled up a place by the name of the Skyway Lodge, made a toll-free phone call from the first pay phone I had used in years, and Scott came and carted us to his hostel, where we stayed for a mere $30/night. Beautiful it was!

Dan slept and I skyped. Then, after a swim, hot tub, read of the Lord of the Rings, I could not resist and laid down as well. 2 hours later I awoke to my brother’s pillow flying at my head, and the realization that we were one hour late to pick up Carrie at the airport! We rushed, and were able to get Scott the hostel owner to take us the 15 minute ride, and we found Carrie patiently seated amongst luggage and anxious tourists. So with a hug I swept her up and off her feet, and the Rudzinski-Malone journey had begun!

The rest of the afternoon-evening included some fresh strawberries and ice cream, the sharing of great stories, and some comical pics! Ultimately we ended up back in our room, three of us on a twin-sized bed, perusing the Aussie/kiwi digital classified on gumtree.com. We had acquired everything in Oz using the site, and so figured that it would work well for NZ as well. As it turned out, there was a car advertised that happened to be located on the same street as the hostel. Incredulous as we were, we became even more so when the owner Mohammed agreed to come pick us up in 20 minutes. When he arrived with the car and we took it for a spin, we immediately became obsessed with the possibility of picking Mike up from the airport at midnight that night in our own car. So we did it!

Tim takes the wheel for the first time!

We ran to the ATM and between the three of us gathered up the necessary capital to make our first investment in NZ, and to make the first ever car purchase for Dan and Carrie! It was amazing! And after a series of discussions on the topic, we settled on the name Adelaide or “Adi” and “Addie” for short. We love her, and she has taken very good care of us up to this point. But not of course without a few snafus, as can be expected with a car that is 17 years old. Oh and we didn’t end up picking up Mike from the airport either. As with most things, this trip has turned out in many different ways that we never could have expected…

Mike loads Addie from the back – day after we bought her