The only noteworthy occurrence to report on the build up and actual flight to Auckland was that we got ripped off by a seemingly sweet old lady whilst buying the biggest Toblerone I have ever clapped hands on. Plus we had a few more of those interesting Chai Lattes.
Mind you they are (now writing this in Bolivia after a hundred gutfuls of mate and the sweet waft of real chai still tingling my ridiculously long nasal hairs) nothing special.
Helen and I crash-landed (not literally, God, could you imagine?) into Auckland, we hopped into a carriage to take us to our overpriced hostel that was run by a nice Indian lady who probably earned more in a week from the place than India's entire GDP. Once settled, we had a walk around the downtown area of Auckland that we had landed in, and, as is customary whilst in a capital city, went and had a pizza. It were alreet.
When we got home we realised just how tired we were and tucked ourselves into our nice double bed, the luxury! Revenge of the Nerds was on too. Bonus.
The next day we lugged our gear to the slightly-further-than-imagined bus station to get our sweet asses up north to the Bay of Islands. I made the mistake of buying a two litre bottle of strawberry milkshake that I then had to down before getting on the somewhat confectionerily-militant bus.
Helen and I crash-landed (not literally, God, could you imagine?) into Auckland, we hopped into a carriage to take us to our overpriced hostel that was run by a nice Indian lady who probably earned more in a week from the place than India's entire GDP. Once settled, we had a walk around the downtown area of Auckland that we had landed in, and, as is customary whilst in a capital city, went and had a pizza. It were alreet.
When we got home we realised just how tired we were and tucked ourselves into our nice double bed, the luxury! Revenge of the Nerds was on too. Bonus.
The next day we lugged our gear to the slightly-further-than-imagined bus station to get our sweet asses up north to the Bay of Islands. I made the mistake of buying a two litre bottle of strawberry milkshake that I then had to down before getting on the somewhat confectionerily-militant bus.
This was just the start of a General Bastard of a journey including snoring old people, screaming babies and annoying teenagers listening to pop through the tinny speakers of their mobile cellular phone piece systems.
But, we got to the Bay of Islands in a few annoying hours. The small holiday resort for old people, nature lovers and pie eaters. Seriously; ten-on-ten pies.
After a walk around trying to find the maritime-themed hostel we had chosen, we got in touch with none other than Simon 'Brother of Jon' White.
But, we got to the Bay of Islands in a few annoying hours. The small holiday resort for old people, nature lovers and pie eaters. Seriously; ten-on-ten pies.
After a walk around trying to find the maritime-themed hostel we had chosen, we got in touch with none other than Simon 'Brother of Jon' White.
Si had moved out there some months previously, after having travelled around Australia and New Zealand. He had also landed the rather enviable job of being a photographer on one of the many dolphin watching tour boats.
He also had a mad cat called Molly with whom Helen was most impressed with. Here she is looking utterly disgusted. 'You'd play Barry over Gerrard? Tosser.'
After a short conversation on the blower, Hel and I went around to his house to meet his buddies and have a bit of a barbecue. This was a great laugh, up until Simon introduced me to his new favourite drinking 'game'.
'THE GAUNTLET.'
The rules are not complicated, you have to get from one end of the set of cards to the other without pulling a picture card or an ace. If you fail to do so, you drink and return to the beginning. Pictures will probably be a better testament to just how horrible this game can be if you´re unlucky.
In the beginning God made beer...
Beginning to feel the pain...
Nothing like a bit of non-productive retching...
That's a lot beer...
Simon relishes it.
At last! Forty five minutes later, and look at how happy I am to finish! Pure ecstasy.
However, I did then have to do my dares.
I personally think I could make it as a stripper.
One dare that I didn't have to do was to pull down my trousers and sing 'I found Osama! I found Osama!'. Except when Simon's housemate explained the dare to me she told me I had to say that I had found 'Obama'. Interesting, and reasonably worrying, stuff.
So, nine or so tins of beer down (drink responsibly kids) and Helen suitably unimpressed, we made our way out. The plan was to go to the bar that Si's housemate - who, incidentally, had missed the first hour of work to watch me die out of my arse - managed and to have a boogie.
This we did. We also got an invite to boat-sit the following day whilst Simon and his buddy went diving, which gave us a chance to see some of the scenery from the sea.
The real excitement began when Hel and I got a space on Simon's boat to go out and watch the dolphins piss around. Apart from the fact our camera ran out of battery three minutes into the ride.
He also had a mad cat called Molly with whom Helen was most impressed with. Here she is looking utterly disgusted. 'You'd play Barry over Gerrard? Tosser.'
After a short conversation on the blower, Hel and I went around to his house to meet his buddies and have a bit of a barbecue. This was a great laugh, up until Simon introduced me to his new favourite drinking 'game'.
'THE GAUNTLET.'
The rules are not complicated, you have to get from one end of the set of cards to the other without pulling a picture card or an ace. If you fail to do so, you drink and return to the beginning. Pictures will probably be a better testament to just how horrible this game can be if you´re unlucky.
In the beginning God made beer...
Beginning to feel the pain...
Nothing like a bit of non-productive retching...
That's a lot beer...
Simon relishes it.
At last! Forty five minutes later, and look at how happy I am to finish! Pure ecstasy.
However, I did then have to do my dares.
I personally think I could make it as a stripper.
One dare that I didn't have to do was to pull down my trousers and sing 'I found Osama! I found Osama!'. Except when Simon's housemate explained the dare to me she told me I had to say that I had found 'Obama'. Interesting, and reasonably worrying, stuff.
So, nine or so tins of beer down (drink responsibly kids) and Helen suitably unimpressed, we made our way out. The plan was to go to the bar that Si's housemate - who, incidentally, had missed the first hour of work to watch me die out of my arse - managed and to have a boogie.
This we did. We also got an invite to boat-sit the following day whilst Simon and his buddy went diving, which gave us a chance to see some of the scenery from the sea.
The real excitement began when Hel and I got a space on Simon's boat to go out and watch the dolphins piss around. Apart from the fact our camera ran out of battery three minutes into the ride.
Luckily we were with the band.
The photographer.
Simon.
Simon got some great shots of the dolphins (which I hope he doesn´t mind me reproducing here), and some good ones of us whilst a young Maori lad explained a brief outline of the Maori culture and belief structure, a short foray into its history and then finishing by swinging some lethal-looking weapons around and poking his tongue out. Massive.
After a couple of days here it was time to move on, and so after an embarrassingly drawn out goodbye to the good lad Simon (hate it when you say bye to someone and then realise you're going to be in the same place for the next twenty minutes), we got back on the bus to Auckland.
The photographer.
Simon.
Simon got some great shots of the dolphins (which I hope he doesn´t mind me reproducing here), and some good ones of us whilst a young Maori lad explained a brief outline of the Maori culture and belief structure, a short foray into its history and then finishing by swinging some lethal-looking weapons around and poking his tongue out. Massive.
After a couple of days here it was time to move on, and so after an embarrassingly drawn out goodbye to the good lad Simon (hate it when you say bye to someone and then realise you're going to be in the same place for the next twenty minutes), we got back on the bus to Auckland.
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