For the uninitiated and it was not really six suitcases and a bit about chickens

For those of you who may be new to Moose and Mosquito, I say welcome and want you to know that I write in an irreverent manner -most of the time. What I did not want to create was a travelogue that bored the @%*! out of me nor anyone else. My grammer skills date back to the turn of the century and sometimes I don't spell check but the official disclaimer is below.

Do excuse all typos, grammar, punctuation, and syntax errors. I wrote most of it whilst riding in the back of an RV on car sick inducing roads. I have not taken high school English in 41 or so years. So sue me. You can read from the top down, bottom up or anyway you want, but do enjoy. I am a bit long winded and digress alot but those who know me well, realize it is one of my endearing traits. So,on with the last post and this is the last post....I promise.

Call it poetic license, color commentary, misrepresentation, or a complete fabrication, but the Lovebirds did not really have six suitcases. It was five and several carry-ons, OK! The important thing here is that I had one very small checked bag. My clothes were perma-creased for the entire trip and the zipper malfunctioned and oh heck now I need a new bag. The Big Fella did carry a big bag (because he IS big) but had no room in the monster for the duty free spirits he purchased on the way out of Auckland. The Lovebirds had room in Gigantor (the enormous suitcase,) and the booze was packed and arrived without breakage. A bit of redemption for the Lovebirds.

Gary and Laura were great sports and traveling companions. And I referred to them as the Lovebirds with good reason. They are very much in love with each other, and it is evident to anyone who knows them or doesn’t know them. Some might think, oh ick this public display of affection is too much, but really it is kinda nice.

I almost forgot the chicken antics at the Mossburn Country Holiday Park. The sheep, goats, and alpacas were not the only ones who benefited from the “nuts.” I can honestly say that I have never seen a chicken running until now. I don’t mean just the little chicken trot with a couple of wing flaps. One chicken heard me rattle the bag and came over at a full sprint. It booked to where the food was being distributed and made itself known. I laughed so hard, I nearly needed to change. It’s legs were pumping and head was bobbing. I giggle now just thinking about it. It was poultry with a purpose!

I took so many photos that it will take until the end of the millennium to look through them all. My Big Fella wondered if I would be putting any on-line to which I sighed, yes but it’ll be on Facebook. He really wants me to add the cattle shots which were not cows, by the way –no udders- but again bear with me, it was creative lie sense, get it? So let's call them raging bulls, and I will pick some of the best shots and post them later. But to see them you will need to friend me on Facebook.

Bye, Bye
Mary 8‘ )

Home again, home again jiggity jig...

Before we left, I know that I cleared the refrigerator of anything that might look like a science project upon our return. Alas, I did miss one or two items, and there is nothing likes the whiff of broccoli gone bad to wake up the olfactory sense. I uncovered what may have been an egg plant in another life. Guess the vegetable compartment was missed in the frenzy to get ready and go. Anyway the egg plant thing was an unusual liquidy-like blob wrapped in plastic and had what appeared to be roots sprouting from one end. Well, I say one end but it was not possible to determine if the creature from the back of the vegetable drawer had and end. A bit of advice, composting is entirely doable inside the refrig, no need to take it to the yard waste container, nor the compost heap in the back yard. Ok, on with the last post and speaking of food…

I finally had lamb shanks and they were tasty. Lovebird Laura couldn’t look. While she eats meat, the thought of eating lamb which of course is a baby animal, made her wince. She had the vegetarian soup but I am SO glad that I had lamb. Yummy!

The plan for our last tourist day included sleeping-in and visiting the city of Dunedin (pronounced Duh- need- in) and consuming as much of our remaining food as possible. Lovebird Gary was our official guide as he found a walking tour of Dunedin that began with the railway station. It is the most photographed building in NZ –according to our guide- and was still in use. We were no different than most and snapped loads of pictures probably too many. As we walked, our guide –Lovebird Gary- gave a running commentary and descriptions of what we were seeing. Of course one stop on the tour was Speight’s brewery but unfortunately a guided tour of it was out of the question. The tours were booked up. Just need to plan ahead next time, but we found the tasting room err bar and ordered a sampler which the four of us shared. Beer before lunch is not something that I would normally do but we were still on vacation and what the heck, right? The tour took us past a large statue of the revered Scottish poet Robert Burns –Robbie to the locals- a church, an Anglican cathedral, and the Cadbury chocolate factory. Chocolate after beer and before lunch, it was heaven sheer heaven. A large group of teenagers, who appeared to be on a field trip, were waiting for their tour of the factory. Why a teacher would take a bunch of teenagers to a chocolate factory was a question without an answer. Perhaps it was a marketing class or some such, all I know is that the males looked hungry as it was lunchtime, and the chocolate was everywhere. The teacher was either a saint or I don’t know what but the bus ride back to school was probably noisy. We decided to purchase a few Cadbury bars before the teenagers cleaned them out, so opted to buy without touring. We stocked-up and allowed ourselves one last wonderful chocolaty inhaled breath of the place. The tour of the city completed, we lunched in the RV and were back out on the road.

The quest for the last campsite, lead to a few tense moments. We all had ideas about what would be the perfect site. Getting four adults moving in the same direction for 2 weeks is simple campared with finding a campsite. The Fella wanted to freedom camp –not pay and park somewhere scenic. I wanted scenic but did not mind paying. The Lovebirds were open but preferred someplace with a shower and power. An hour or so later, we had a spot that was somewhat rustic but cheep ($15), had showers and power, and was scenic in the broad sense of the word. Never mind that there was a field of sheep in front of us and train tracks behind us –it was all good. The last Miller Time was prepared. (For those who don't quite get the Miller Time thing....it is the Batie family name for cocktail hour.) Gin and Tonics for the women and Old Fashioneds for the old farts oops I mean the men folk, and with what was left of our munchies, things settled down nicely.Our blood sugar and livers happy we ate dinner which was BBQ’d steak, baked spuds, salad, and the $40 bottle of Pinot Noir that had aged at least a week. ‘Twas a great last night on the S. Island. Sleep was only interrupted a couple of times by passing trains, Ok it was four for me but whose counting! The site was the least expensive and had shall I say, a certain je ne sais quoi about it.

The last day on the road to return the motorhome (Christchurch) was uneventful unless you count the transportation museum that the Big Fella located across the street from the drop off location. I am NOT kidding. The man has a nose for these things. He and his bro’ decided that this was an opportunity and as we had a couple of hours before the official return of our vehicle, why not. The women sat out the museum and kibitzed with Lee the gentleman at the drop site. Lovebird Laura borrowed his phone and confirmed our airline reservations while Lee told me in great detail about the earthquakes. We were west of the epicenter and the second quake was felt in the area but no damage was sustained. Just prior to the rumbling, he saw that his horses were acting a bit odd and observed them being pushed straight up into the air, all four feet leaving the ground. They took off and the shaking started. The epicenter of the September quake was closer and he described watching as the contents of his house crashed to the floor. Anything breakable was down and in pieces. His brother, who lives next door, lost hundreds of dollars in beer and liquor. No not the beer! He laughed as he said bottles were everywhere and in pieces.

Once the guys were finished with the museum, we took a flight from Christchurch to Auckland where we stayed for the night. I won’t bore you with those details, or the fact that the flight from ChCh was over an hour late causing us to miss dinner –like we miss many meals-, and it was pouring rain in Auckland, and the flight from Auckland to LAX took 11 hours and I got no sleep because most other passengers were talking and that we had a four hour layover at LAX which maybe one of the yuckiest airports in the universe. We did arrive home safe and sound.

I cannot say enough nice things about New Zealand. The scenery was gorgeous and diverse. The people are friendly, hospitable, and laid back. And even with the chaos of the earthquakes in Christchurch, “No worries,” was their mantra. I will return for there is much we missed .I hope that it is soon and encourage that all who read this edition of Moose and Mosquito go there too.

Thanks to all who helped to calm our kids’ nerves following the earthquake…next time I will send them both an itinerary! Over and out.


Mary :)

Roads, Maori Names and other Musings

I am convinced that there are no straight roads in New Zealand. Zip zero none nada. Don’t get me wrong, the roads aren’t bad just narrow and full of hairpin curves. Coupled with driving on what is for us the wrong side of the road, it made for some near death experiences pour moi. Well, I exaggerate a bit of course but after riding shotgun a few times, I decided that riding in the way back was preferable. Eating brush and seeing trees way too up close and personal on “my side,” may have improved my abs due to the constant muscle tensing, but was not good for the blood pressure. By the way, the Fella was and remains in deep denial about how close he really got to the bushes, trees, and road signs. Round abouts are a great way to control traffic and eliminate the need for stop lights. Although there are traffic lights in the major cities, round abouts are a cool way to keep things moving. You just need to remember the rules, which is pause or stop, give way, all clear and go. As said previously, the one lane bridges are also a unique way to save money on bridge building but also have rules of the road. The red arrow in your direction means that you DO NOT have the right of way. You must give way and wait for the all clear. The black arrow means you can proceed if of course the red arrow people headed for you are off the bridge. This ahem was a bit of a lesson for us …because we were bigger did not mean folks would back-up off the bridge and let us pass first. The one lane bridges are not in the major metropolitan areas –at least that I remember. Kiwis driving habits seem to be sensible and they have a great deal of patience with the plethora of tourists using the roads.

Ok, I never figured out how to pronounce many of the Maori place names. There are too many vowels strung together with an occasional consonant thrown in for fun. I only knew how to say Ngunguru( nungooroo the ‘g’ sound is barely uttered) because I asked. Hawiian is full of vowels but they are all uttered. Some of the Maori place names are shortened or blends like ‘wh’ are spoken as if it is a ‘f,’ then again sometimes not! I could live there for years and still be struggling with the language and that brings me to the Kiwi accent.

There were times, as I listened carefully to our B&B hosts or store clerks that I felt English was my second language. Kiwis seem to talk a lot –part of their friendly nature- but fast and have a lilting accent that is a hybrid of English cockney, Scottish, Irish, and a Texas drawl. I found myself asking people to repeat themselves or I would nod as if I knew what had been just said to me. Often times I had NO clue.

One can travel in New Zealand for three months on just your passport. I would really enjoy doing some of the tracks especially in Abel Tasman and the Milford Sound region. Another kayak trip and maybe the bungy swing would be fun, too. When we return it’ll be for at least four weeks. There is so much that we missed.

Penguins, Albatross, and Tui oh my!

It's a penguin kind of day today and to maximize the opportunity for a siting, we booked a tour through The Penguin Place. But before Penguin place a hike to picturesque waterfall, where we encountered the call of the Tui. We did not actually see a Tui, but based on descriptions that I read, I know that we heard one.The Tui is a bird with two voice boxes. It sings two part harmony,and is capable of recreating other sounds that it hears. I suppose it is a bit like a mocking bird. This particular Tui had a repertoire of lovely songs which were punctuated by honks and buzzes. The honk had an old fashioned bicycle horn sound to it and was pretty funny. These birds are so loud and noisy that the locals often complain that the birds interrupt sleep. Barks and cell phone rings are some of the noises produced by these clever fellows. There are more birds on the tour so keep reading.

The Otago Penninsula is the home of Penguin Place, but near it is an albatross colony. By this time the Fella was about done with wild life but what the heck how many times are you going to have an opportunity to see an albatross? Lucky for us that it was a windy day, and the birds were flying. We were told the albatross tends to stay grounded on windless days. The colony is quite unusual in that it is rare to find them on the mainland. Most are on remote islands or rocks in the middle of the ocean far away from civilization. The big white bird resembles a sea gull only bigger much bigger. Rather than pay for a tour which would get us closer to the nests, we were content to watch these giants gliding on the air currents. Now on to the penguins.

Penguin Place is a reserve with a unique system of tunnels/bunkers built into the hillsides. The bunkers are for the nonpenguins - like us. Humans are confined and view the birds from peep holes, which allows them to be in their natural habitat free from intrusion. Predators include dogs, cats, stoats, and possums. All of the above are trapped and or killed in order to protect the birds. Since molting season had just started,we were told that the birds would not be active as molting zaps their energy.They just want to be left alone to molt. The youngsters maybe frisky though and we were not disappointed. Those nearing adulthood frolicked in the fresh water ponds of the reserve and are getting the hang of what it is to be a penguin. They were too funny. The climb out of the pond was a challenge for one young bird. Finally on dry land, he/she attempted to stand and did a face plant. The young bird slowly made it to an upright position then stretched and flapped his/her wings. I wanted to applaud and holler you did it! However we were to speak in whisper tones so clapping and attaboys were out of the question.

The older penguins have names such as Sam, who stood like a sentinel at the end of a pond. Initially, I thought Sam was a statue but was assured that he was molting and was conserving his strength. There was Howard who stood under a tree, which was his preferred molting place. Our guide explained that yellow eyed penguins stake out individual territory and defend it. Occasionally, some rearranging is done -not sure how penguins negotiate- but that's what the guide indicated. Once again I was surprised by how far they travel on foot to get from the ocean to the upland areas. It appeared to be about a half mile. In addition to penguins, brown fur seals make the reserve their home. On our walk from the bunkers to the seal area we spotted a penguin on the beach making its way -slowly- to the upland areas. The seals were sacked out on a grassy hill. Some lazily opened one eye or both as we passed by.

The wind blew so hard the Big Fella remarked that driving the motorhome was like trying to drive a kite. We retired to our campsite with fresh memories of Tuis, Albatross, and Yellow Eyed Penguins.

Plans change

The original plan was to spend two days in both Queenstown and Te Anau. But one day in each location was plenty and provided just enough additional time for a tour through the Catlins, an area of incredible ocean vistas and additional opportunities for wild life encounters. The trusty motorhome -took us over the meadow, through the bush, and the windy ocean-side roads in search of a penguins, seal, sea lions, and fossilized forests. We found seals, and the forest fossils but were too early(5 PM) for the yellow eyed penguins. They tend to emerge from the water around dusk and waddle up to the nearby rocks and bushes. It is a wonder that the penguins manage the climb up to the rocks. Apparently some use the stairs provided for people to make their way out of the cold and into the shelter of the bushes. Penguin droppings -per the gov't naturalist there- indicated where they rest. On this same beach was the forest that was blown down and then covered with silica during a volcanic eruption. The silica coating preserved what was once a large stand of trees. Mother Nature at work.

It was a good day and Love Bird Laura and I have enjoyed the local wines at Miller Time. This was complemented with cheese, crackers, and summer sausage. You know it's camping Batie style.

Shower anyone?

Te Anau was a two hour drive from our campsite and Milford Sound was two hours beyond Te Anau. The road is paved but narrow and requires a trip through a one way tunnel, which is controlled by a traffic signal. Plenty of time was allowed so that we would not miss our 3:30 reservation for a Milford Sound cruise. Milford Sound is part of Fjordlands National Park. The famous Milford Track (big hike) is located here as well as many other less known tracks. Even in the rain -which it does more often than not here- it was lovely. Narrow channels with sheer rock faces greeted us. More waterfalls than I could count, tumble down the rocks. As the grand finale to the tour the captain nuzzles the boat as close as possible to one of the cascades, while encouraging passengers to stand on the deck to feel the power of the spray. Yeah, sure I was not born yesterday and no way was I going to feel the power and get drenched. Love Bird Laura tried it but stayed fairly dry. Hmmm but had anyone seen Greg? Well,the Big Fella went to the upper deck and experienced the full impact of the spray. He came in dripping and claimed it was great! Uh huh so why do you look like a beached sea lion? What he really needed at this point was a cup of hot coffee and some dry clothes. Dried off and refreshed we made the trek back through the one way tunnel to Te Anau where we stayed for the night. After a fabulous meal -Italian pizza made by "real Italians" our beds were calling and it was off to dreamland.

Let's here it for the Wimps

OK, so we were tired and desparate for a campground and pulled into the Haast Lodge and Holiday Park. The office was closed, the place was not full and as there were many available spots, we pulled into one and called it a night. We did a bit of star gazing as it was a crystal clear night and the milky way was visible. First thing in the morning we would register and pay. Management was none too happy with me as I explained our situation. After about 3 minutes of reading me the riot act the manager stated, "If you cannot get organized to get here before 8PM then we don't want you." He told me that it was clearly signed no late check-ins -it wasn't and at this point I wasn't going to fuss. In spite of not wanting my business, he still took my money. I understood his point-people come in and squat for the evening and leave without paying. Ok but we made sure to pay for the night and it wasn't necessary to bring me close to tears. I will never recommend his campground. This was our first and only rude/angry Kiwi to date. It is possible that he had loved ones in Christchurch and was stressed by that situation -giving the benefit of the doubt.

After breakfast it was off to Queenstown. A quick stop in Wanaka for the guys to visit another military museum, and for the girls to do some shopping. It simply would not be a vacation without some souvenirs and museums, right? Love Bird Gary gave me an opportunity to pass on the museum which I dearly appreciated.

The scenery in this country is very diverse. Mountains, glaciers, two oceans, lush green valleys, lakes, jungle-like rain forests, and wineries are all within a days drive. The drive to Queenstown did not disappoint. We found a campground that packed 'em in arm-pit-to-arm-pit but figured this was a tourist town and it would not be too different at any other campground. So, we bit the bullet and settled in for the night. Tommorrow was going to be a big day.

Queenstown sits beside a lake with much of it built on the surrounding hillsides.I was reminded a little of Lake Tahoe and it is full of young people no doubt drawn there for the thrills. Queenstown is noted for adventure sports like bungy jumps & swings, river surfing, and jet boating up the Shotover River. Extreme adventures are not my cup of tea so we skipped all of the above and did a zip trek, the gondolla & luge. The zip had me hanging by my ankles upside down and wasn't part of my plan but I an elderly Irish guy who'd had hip replacement surgery did it so I could not really weenie out. The luge is not the Olympic event variety. You sit upright steering and braking from a handle bar contraption. The rest of the group rode with reckless abandon while granny here rode the brake. In fact I came to a complete stop twice. I am now a traffic hazard to anyone behind me as I needed to use my feet to get my momentum going again. One poor guy came roaring around the corner not knowing that granny was moving slowly..if there was a seat belt it would have been stuck in the door dragging on the pavement, emergency flashers blinking wildly. You get the idea. I think I prefer zipping to luging. Since the people at the Zip Trek mentioned that detached retinas are not an uncommon occurence during a bungy jump, the Big Fella suggested paragliding as an alternative. Somedays he is full of surprises. My answer was an emphatic NO. Zipping and luging are about as extreme as I will go. I hate roller coasters,why would I paraglide! It was a picture perfect day and the views from the gondolla were spectacular. No paragliding necessary.

Maybe I will return to Queenstown someday and bungy swing but for this trip our day of thrills was done and that afternoon we left Queenstown taking a scenic route through a river gorge. The next destination Te Anau (said Teeahnoo) and a cruise of Milford Sound. Our lodging for the night was a sweet little holiday park named Mossburn Country Park. Run by a mid forties aged couple with children, two goats, sheep, and alpacas; we were charmed. The husband was more than happy to point out the Southern Cross and how to find it in the night sky. I found it and was thrilled. The proprietors encourage guests to feed the goats sheep and alpacas with "nuts" located in the kitchen. (Most holiday parks in NZ have kitchens for tent campers to cook meals. No need for a Coleman Stove.) Shake the bag and the alpacas will come running. I bought a bag of "nuts" shook it and all but the sheep came running to the fence. The mama goat tried head butting the alpacas out of the way but they managed to squeeze-in. Alpaca fur is quite soft and these guys were so gentle. They ate out of our hands. What a treat. Our showers taken and the animals fed, we said goodbye.

Rollin' Rollin' Rollin' Keep them doggies rollin' Rawhide! Yeah!

Dirt side roads bring all kinds of surprises, and sometimes they appear in herds. While on our way to see some 1000 yr old trees, we happened upon a cattle drive of sorts. A farmer decided to move his herd of stock to a different field, and the chosen route was the road we were on. Two men were moving the bovines and used a 4-wheeled ATV, a motorcycle and a dog. The dog hopped onto the motorcycle to allow us by and the two cowpokes gave us the go ahead. What? The beasties were in the road moving at a trot; how would we do this? Incredibly,off we went with Elsie the cow and about 60-75 of her closest friends. The Big Fella was taking it easy because cows quite literally surrounded us. Apparently we were too slow because the next thing we knew the cowpoke on the ATV came tearing up and positioned himself in front of us and motioned us to speed up. The bevy of bovines kept pace and appeared to be panicking as they were running and in my opinion -ahem- were on the verge of a STAMPEDE! The Fella swore that one appeared to be challenging him to a race. The ATV guy kept motioning us to speed up, the poor beasties directly in front of the motorhome had bouts of diarrhea which was either a bad case of nerves or a cow's version of road rage. The Big Fella thought that they were engaging in a tactic to slow us down by laying down an oil slick.(cue male adolescent laughter) It was not pretty and at one point I remarked to Laura Love Bird that I could not look. Not only was this gross but Elsie & Co. were beginning to look psychotic. It was a scene out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie-Ok a bit of an exaggeration- and it was weird when those big brown eyes looked back at us. Give me a break here! Eventually the ATV cowpoke parted the galloping gerties- a bit like Moses parting the Red Sea- and we were through. I am quite sure that the cows were as relieved to have us gone as we were to be rid of them. We found the ancient trees and because the road in was the road out,risked getting into it with the cattle again. However on the return trip, they were no where to be found. I suspect they heard the vehicle and took cover.

The dog on the back of the motorcycle was probably thinking, "Would you get aload of these tourists?" And for the boy scouts out there, no we did not earn the cattle herding merit badge. Sigh.

Coming up really nasty camp ground managers, Queenstown, sheep, goats, and alpacas oh my!

Arthurs Pass and points west

I am really trying to catch up here but as the saying goes: the hurrieder I go the more behinder I get.

The lack of available fuel and the ensuing search for it (tense moments too) caused us to rethink our destination which was Grey Mouth -on the west coast and a five hour drive. Rather than rush we opted for a slower pace which allowed us some stops for views. The Big Fella let his bro' drive for a bit here.

Kiwis developed of list of 101 things natives must do before they die, and Arthurs Pass is on that list. With stunning vistas of the Southern Alps,the road bends and twists;the mountains always in view. We stopped at Castle Hill which I believe may have been part of the back drop for Lord of the Rings. It is a natural phenomenon and does look like the ruins of an old fortress. The summit is Arthurs Pass Village and has a few shops and a couple of cafes, But the main attraction are the Keas -native parrots-and we found a tree full of the eccentric critters. These big boys struck poses for us while chattering noisily the entire time. The books say they eat just about anything including the rubber on cars. After communing with the birds a bit, we were ready
for the rest of Arthurs Pass and the Otira viaduct.

Signage at the approach of the viaduct warns of a 16% grade and a requirement that all vehicles use low gears. No problem, but we decided to take a look first and it is (gulp) a formidable hill. The Big Fella eased the RV down the grade as the rest of us marveled at this feat of engineering. I was a bit nervous that The Fella may channel his inner Mario Andretti for this puppy but good sense prevailed and we made it safely down the mountain. Jacksons Retreat & Spa Holiday Park, provided a wonderful campsite where we were greeted by the resident Wekas. Remember Wekas are flightless bird that look like a cross between a chicken and a velociraptor. They hung out with us throughout our Miller Time and dinner hoping for a morsel. We'd call them camp robbers in the U.S.

Before breakfast an early morning hike took us to a waterfall. The morning drizzle turned into rain but this area is a rain forest and reminded us of the Hoh. Showered and breakfasted we said goodbye to the Wekas -who continued to hang around- and set off for Hokitika and the glaciers. Hokitika is known for greenstone or jade. The Maoris prized greenstone and protected their lodes to the death.. Turf were not uncommon. Hokitika also had a kiwi house which we took in. Lunch was a white bait patty which was worth tasting but not something that I would order again. Actually, I spit out the first bite and only managed to choke down about half of it. They say you must try it while here and I can honestly say it was disgusting. Like Dudley Do-Right Greg will eat what I don't and true to form he gobbled up what was left of my white bait patty.

Heading south from Hokitika we were trying to get a far south as possible but made a quick stop at Franz Joseph Glacier first. We took a short walke to see what we could of it and then were back again motoring along in the RV trying to figure out the next camp spot. Initially we thought the government site -with only twelve spots and it was a weekend- might work. Hah! It was stacked arm-pit-to-arm-pit with only the public boat launch left as a viable spot. Nope that won't work so the next locale was at least an hour down the road and it was dark. We arrived after 10. The only places available were private campgrounds and I said oh heck lets just park it in a spot and pay in the morning which is exactly what we did. It was a great night for star gazing and we did a bit before sleep sweet sleep.