Tell me and I will forget, show me and I will remember, involve me and I will understand.

One additional option for travellers when visiting Hokianga is the Footprints Experience, where you are led on a guided tour through the Waipoa forest at night with a local Maori guide. The tour is also listed as one of Lonely Planet's top “Code Green” Eco-tours in the world, so I didn't really feel like it was something I should miss.

Our guide, Koro, brought us through the forest and his stories blended scientific explanations of forest life with Maori legends. We approached Te Matua Ngahere just as the sun was setting. Te Matua Ngahere is the oldest living Kauri tree in the world. The forest vegetation is short in between the viewing platform and the tree, and so the light hits the trunk directly rather than through the regular canopy of leaves throughout the rest of the forest. This made Te Matua Ngahere seem illuminated and slightly ethereal. As we silently looked up at the tree in awe, a Morepork flew over our heads and landed in the branches of a tree closest to where we were standing. The Morepork (what an unfortunate name) is the only owl indigenous to New Zealand. Seeing the owl was the first sign of the approaching night as the bird is nocturnal.

We walked back to the trail head in the twilight, and when we arrived at Tane Mahuta, the largest Kauri tree in the world, it was dark. Tane Mahuta is Maori for “Lord of the Forest”, and is named after the god who successfully separated his parents who were locked in an eternal embrace. By separating his parents, he brought light to the world and life began. Once again, this is a badly summarized “Danielle verison” of the Maori creation story. I encourage you to read it for yourself.

As Koro shared these stories under Tane Mahuta, I was looking up to take in the whole tree. When Koro stopped talking to let his words sink in, we were engulfed in silence. You may remember just two weeks ago when I hiked up to the Sunrise Hut and was literally blown over by the force of the wind. The Waipoa forest is huge and full of leaves and branches ready to catch a breeze, but nothing was moving. Excuse me as I get a bit touchy-feely here, but the accentuated stillness of the forest compared to the intense juxtaposition of my last windy encounter with nature rooted me to my immediate surroundings and to the absolute present state of my being. My mind is constantly buzzing as to 'what will come next' – from my plans for tomorrow, a month from now, or even a year. I even dream about it. At that moment though, all of that fell away. Even though I was with 5 others, a silence as intense as the one we shared is hard to come by. In Edmonton, the noises from the city are always present. In the backpackers I have been frequenting for the past two months, there is always someone wandering around at any time of day. Even in the forest during the day, there is the crunching of the leaves underneath your feet, the calling of birds, and the sound of the wind in the trees.

But the Waipoa was in a state of absolute tranquil, unmoving stillness.

Koro broke the silence with a prayer to end our evening, but halfway through, he stopped himself and shouted “Kiwi!” For a full minute we listened to the call of a nearby endangered Kiwi bird before saying goodbye to the forest and each other to head back into the world.

“We are only said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.”

Hammock in Hokianga

Mostly to avoid staying longer in Auckland than I have to, I booked myself into the last place the Magic Bus stops on its tour of the North. The towns closest to where I am staying are Omapere and Opononi, but the entire bay area is known as Hokianga, which is on the west coast of the Northland. The backpackers I am staying at is called Globe Trekkers, and is owned by Mike and Sue. Similar to the one in Whangerei, the place is family owned and operated and feels more like a house than a backpackers which I really have come to appreciate. They have a English man named John who stays here for 6 months of the year, and spends the other 6 months enjoying his summers in England. He is an interesting and slightly eccentric old guy who is always up for a long conversation where he does most of the talking. Yesterday he told me explicitly that my English Degree is useless, but today he said he would like to figure out what makes a novel 'the best' instead of just 'good'. Well John, English degree over here can help you figure that one out.

This place has a great view of the ocean, lots of hiking trails, and really has that “away from it all” feeling. There isn't even an ATM here. But I mainly love it for the hammock that is hanging out by the patio. I plan to spend all of my time in it, reading my book and enjoying the sunshine in peace and quiet before I head to Auckland for a week. Lethargy, thy name is Danielle.

My Foot Hurts. Oh and I went to Russell

On my last day in the Bay of Islands, I wanted to do a 10 km hike, check out the town across the bay called Russell, go for a swim, and read my book. As it happened, that cut on the bottom of my foot that I got at Big Day Out did not like the sand exfoliation I gave it yesterday at Cape Reinga, and it was hurting more than ever. I also had my cell phone glued to my hand since I was waiting for a phone call from a potential employer (which never came). So I didn't manage to make the 10 km walk or go for a swim, but I had a great day nonetheless.

I got on a ferry over to Russell before noon, and had a good time wandering around exploring the town. When the Europeans settled in the area, Russell was known as the hell-hole of New Zealand because of all the drinking and prostitution that went on there. That time is long gone, and now Russell is just a quaint little beach village. On the other side of the peninsula from the ferry docks is Long Beach, which is a beautiful bay area with blue sparkly water and golden sand. I didn't have my swim suit and didn't want to miss the call, so I admired the water from afar and worked on my tan. Let me tell you, it was a challenge to not jump in the water.

I had been texting Chantal during the day, and she scolded me for not telling Omi I was in town. (Omi is from Christchurch, and she met Chantal when they worked in Fiji together seven years ago. We met up with her and her husband Ben when we visited Christchurch. Omi and Ben moved to Keri Keri in the Bay of Islands from Christchurch a week before I got there). I didn't necessarily feel like bothering Chantal's friend when Chantal wasn't there anymore, but I sent Omi a text anyways praising her beautiful choice of a place to live. This was automatically responded with “Are you here? Do you need a place to stay? Do you want to come over for dinner?” Canadians really need to pick up on this hospitality thing that Kiwi's have going on. Omi, Ben, and I ended up meeting in Paihia for pizza on the waterfront, which was a lovely way to spend my last night in the Bay of Islands with a few friends.

Kauri Trees – Sandboarding – Lunchtime Swim in Paradise – Cape Reinga – 90 Mile Beach

No visit to the Bay of Islands is complete without a day trip up to Cape Reinga, the northernmost point of New Zealand. In Maori tradition, when people die their departed souls walk north to Cape Reinga. When they arrive here, they turn to face south, wave goodbye to their home and loved ones, and then drop down over the rocky cliffs which is the entrance to Hawaiki, the afterlife. That's a summarized “Danielle” version, but I had to record it here because I find it such a beautiful way to say goodbye to life and greet death. Cape Reinga was at the end of the day though, and I need to start at the beginning.

The bus took off bright and early, leaving the backpackers before 7:30. Full day ahead! Our first stop was the Manginangina, a Kauri tree forest that had Kauri trees a lot older than the ones in Whangerei. There was one tree that you would easily need 10 people joining hands to reach all the way around the trunk. I can't get over how beautiful the forests are here. I've wandered through some great urban forested parks in Europe, but those ones always feel very influenced by civilization – carved stone steps here, a perfectly straight line of trees there.. In New Zealand you really get back to the rugged design of mother nature. I suppose it's the same in Canada, but the forests are greener on the other side (literally actually, New Zealand is mainly rainforest).

From Manginangina, we continued north to our next stop at the sand dunes. The bus drove through a stream and right onto the hard sand at the base of the dunes, and then our driver Spike opened up the bus luggage area to reveal 30 body boards for us to run up the hill with, and then zoom down on again. I had been on sand dunes in September when I went to the Oregon Coast with Trish, Jill, Patrice, and John. So I had fresh memories of how annoying it is to climb a mountain made of sand. As usual, taking the slow and steady method helped me make it up to the top of the hill eventually. Spike explained the technique we were supposed to be using, and he helped by giving everyone a good push as they took off. Rachel, my bus seat buddy, was a bit nervous. I tried calming her down by saying “It's just like toboganning!” But the poor English girl had never been tobogganning. Eventually, it was my turn. No one had crashed yet, but I felt I would be the one since I am incredibly uncoordinated with things like this (read: skateboard = broken ankle, toboggan + tree = destroyed knee, etc) and was mentally preparing for the worst. As Spike pushed me down, 20 odd years of tobogganning experience took over and I made it down the hill without a problem – I even slid all the way down to the stream! After my first walk up, I was positive that it would be my last. I could not be bothered to climb the damn hill again. But the first ride down was so exhilarating that I quickly scurried up the hill again – this time with my camera, and Spike followed me down on his own board, recording me the whole way down. If I could find decent internet, I might even be able to post it.

The sand dunes were gorgeous, but Spike managed to one up them by bringing us to our lunch stop at Taputaputa Bay. This is a small beach on the Pacific Ocean with golden sand, crystal clear water, and waves high enough to make body surfing fun. I jumped right in for a lunch time swim, wishing I could just live there.

Sadly, we had to continue on, and took the final stretch of highway north to Cape Reinga. The car park is about a 20 minute walk from the top of the country, but the scenery along the way is so gorgeous that I didn't even notice. When I signed up for this tour, the brochure boasted that I would be able to see “the clash of the Tasman Sea and the Pacific Ocean as they cross over”. This sounds like a load of poetic bull shit. Oceans are human concepts, water doesn't care where an imaginary line is drawn, it's just water. Right? Wrong. There was an area of the sea that was quite choppy, and on a closer look, I could see two distinct sides with waves crashing in opposite directions. It was so cool. Brochure, you keep up that beautiful poetic bullshit. Show me more. Other than that, the Cape had a cool lighthouse and a signpost showing the directions and distances to various famous cities around the world. True to the Maori culture steeped in the land, the area was peaceful and calm, and felt very sacred. I could have stayed much longer.

But we needed to get back to Paihia for the night, so we started the long trek back down south. This was made shorter by driving along 90 Mile Beach. Yup, we drove right on the sand. At low tide, the sand is hard enough that any vehicle can drive down it. Apparently it's recognized as a New Zealand highway, so you can even get a ticket on the beach if you're driving like an idiot or going over the 100km/h speed limit. We stopped for pictures at one point and I ran into the water, just so I can say I've swam in two oceans in one day. Check!

The day was closed out by a trip to the Ancient Kauri kingdom, which is a gift shop and showroom made of Kauri tree objects. The only thing worth mentioning is that the store is built around a Kauri tree trunk that has been turned into a staircase. As in you walk up inside the tree. The trunk is so thick that they literally just carved out a spiral staircase into it. I felt a bit childish as my only thought was “I want one”. Our last stop was in Mangonui for some fish and chips, which was a perfect way to end the day. After the sun, sand, and climbing, I'm exhausted and ready for a solid sleep. In sum: perfect day.

The internet for tourists in this country really does not lend itself to uploading pictures – check back and I'll see if I can add some photographs to my entries when I have some solid bandwidth!

Abbey Caves

The Abbey Caves just outside of Whangerei are open for the public to explore as they wish – and they're free. If you want to go, you need solid close-toed shoes, a torch (in North America we call these flashlights), and it is highly recommended that you wear a helmet. So naturally, I went in without head gear in my bare feet sharing the 'flashlight app' on my phone with two other people. You go girl.

The Waitomo Caves are the popular ones in New Zealand, you may remember when I went there. That adventure cost around $100, but we got two tour guides, a wet suit, and an inner tube – not to mention the whole amazing tour. Basically, well worth the price of admission. There are a few other glow worm caves throughout New Zealand, including the ones here in Whangerei. The Abbey Caves are about 9km away from my backpackers, and with the current open wound on the bottom of my foot, I expected to miss them. Considering I've been to the world famous Waitomo Caves, I didn't really care. But when the guy at the carpark offered to drive us there, I really couldn't turn down the offer.

To get to the cave entrance, we walked through a beautiful farmers field, and then paused to re-assess. Do we really wanted to crawl into this dark, wet hole with inadequate gear? Well, we've made it this far already. So we hid our bags and shoes behind a rock, and slid down the first set of stones into the cave. The glow worms were not far from the entrance. I wish I could do these little phosphorescent bugs more justice than to simply describe them as little points of light above you. Even saying that to look up at them is like staring up at the milky way doesn't feel like it's enough. You really need to go into these caves yourselves. We walked in to the caves for about half an hour, splashing in shallow water, climbing over boulders, and wading through pools of water that were higher than my waist. We climbed up mini waterfalls and walked through some kind of grassy weeds that I don't want to think about for too long. I don't want to think about it because other than the glow worms, there is no light in the caves – so how are these plants be growing?! I also tried not thinking about the other things I had heard about, like the cave eels or weta bugs. Luckily, I didn't encounter either.

On the entire way in, I had my phone in my hand, trying to shine the light so everyone could use it. Minna and Elsa didn't complain at all. On the way back, Minna held the light for a while and I was able to fully appreciate how well these girls stumbled through the caves in the dark. You just have to trust that your foot will land where it is supposed to. The cave walk probably would have been a lot easier if I hadn't have brought my expensive, non-waterproof camera in with me. But I did get a cool picture of the glowworms!

My Day in Whangerei

I woke up this morning to overcast skies and a forecast for rain, so I curled up on the porch with a cup of tea and my book.  Sure enough, it started to rain so I spent the morning with my book.  By afternoon, I was restless and ready for action.  My roommates, Minna and Elsa, were also up for adventure so we headed out together to hike to the Whangerei Falls.  It was overcast when we left, but as soon as we got on the trail the clouds disappeared and the sun came out.  Probably should have worn sun screen. Whoops. 

The trail to the falls led us along the Hatea River Walk and through a canopy walk with Kauri trees. The Kauri is one of the most famous of New Zealand trees, and I was excited to finally see one.  We were told that these trees were only 500 year old babies, but considering how that's older than the European discovery of my country, I had a hard time wrapping my mind around how these trees could be young.  When we got to the Kauri part of the hike, we saw trees as thick as the biggest ones in British Columbia.  This is why they're just 'babies'.  There is a Kauri tree elsewhere in the Northland called Tane Mahuta that is 2000 years old and has a 13 metre girth.  I cannot picture this, but I will be seeing Tane in about a week, so I guess I can try to put it into words then.

Further along the trail was the Whangerei Falls.  Now I've seen a lot of waterfalls, but these ones were gorgeous - they're about 26 metres high.  We all just sat down and looked at the water rushing down for a good ten minutes before heading up to the car park area.  While we met a few people along the trail, that was nothing compared to how busy it was up at the park above the falls.  The river gets quite deep right before the waterfall, so kids were running and jumping into the water, swinging from ropes on trees, and even climbing high into this one tree beside the riverbank, creeping down the branches, and jumping down into the water.  This was right next to a sign that said "Danger: shallow rocks".
All that was nothing compared to the guy who started wading through the river to the edge of the waterfall.  Was he going to jump? Yes!  My morbid curiosity was about as strong as everyone else's in the park as we all ran to the viewing platform to watch him jump.  Everyone waited with baited breath as he leaned over to look down to the water below.  Remember me saying the falls are 26 metres high?  And then he jumped. 

I couldn't take my eyes off the water until he surfaced, alive and well.  I heard a lady saying she had watched him do it yesterday too.  I later found out that 3 people have died in the past from jumping off the falls.  Scary.

When we left the backpackers, Elsa had plans to walk to the waterfall and then hitchhike to the Abbey Caves or back to the hostel since it was a good 9 km each way.  I didn't have a lot of confidence in that plan, so I was ready for the walk back.  When we got up the the carpark for the falls, we started chatting with some volunteers who spend the day there, offering information, water, and sunscreen.  I asked the man how hard it was to walk to the caves, and he disappeared into his car to find a map.  While he was there, his wife convinced him to give us a ride to the caves.  Score!  The caves are a whole other adventure though, which you can read about here.

When we got out of the caves, we prepared ourselves for the 9 km walk back to the hostel.  After what felt like a long ten minute walk, Elsa's thumb proved useful and a wonderful local guy picked us up and drove us downtown.  The ten minute drive easily cut an hour off our walking time.  Yay for first hitchhike!  I finished the day off with leftovers from my Swiss friends and a glass of wine from Elsa and Minna. I don't think I've ever had such an inexpensive travelling day.  I only paid for my bed!

The Friendly Traveller

Apart from napping, I spent first day in Whangerei with three new friends I met in the backpackers: Katie, Matt, and Johnny.  We played boardgames, discussed school, and they taught me how to feed birds by throwing seeds at them.

My new friends were 10, 8, and 6 - the grandkids of the owners who came to visit for the weekend from Auckland.  My willingness to jump around the sitting area playing Hulabaloo made me a fast favourite, so when evening came I was invited along to a dark walk through the forest to see glow worms.  Noell, the owner/grandma, was a great guide for us.  She pointed out a bunch of things to look at, including the Weta bug that lives in the caves.  Apparently these things can jump up to five metres.  It was only a baby, but still disgusting.

My new friends weren't quite as adventurous as I was though, and got a bit unnerved in the dark so we had to head back early.  This was okay with me since I was still running low on sleep after Big Day Out, and was ready to curl up in bed for a solid 10 hours (or forever).

When we got back, I headed into the kitchen where a group of Swiss travellers were finishing dinner.  They made too much, and asked if
I wanted a plate.  Free pasta and schnitzel? Yes please!  When I finished, they still had leftovers, but not enough to feed all four of them the next day so they insisted I take the food for tomorrow. 

Free night walk to see glowworms and two free dinners. I love travelling.

Exhausted in Whangerei

Standing outside all day while dancing harder than anyone really should in public without eating very much is enough to exhaust anyone.  So in retrospect, I probably shouldn't have booked myself onto a Magic Bus tour of the Bay of Islands where I had to be picked up at 7:30 the morning after Big Day Out.  After about 5 hours of sleep, I dragged myself out of bed, packed up all of my overwhelming shit, and headed out.  (I really need to ditch some stuff in my backpack.) 
I decided to jump off the Magic Bus at Whangerei, which is a launching point for some world class diving.  I have no interest in diving, but some of the walking trails around town seemed cool, so I booked myself a room at the Bunkdown Lodge Backpackers.  The backpackers is a 100 year old Kauri Villa that was  originally used as a doctor's office and surgery, but 13 years ago the present owners renovated it into the backpackers.  You can see the care that has gone into the place from the hand carved baseboards to the upkeep today.  It is a very refreshing place to come after staying in the massive commercial hostel in Auckland (and nice to be in a house after a month in prison).
Because I arrived so early, my room wasn't ready.  I felt a bit delirious with lack of sleep, and felt awkward about sleeping on a couch in the backpackers (this was probably due to the lack of sleep. Normally I can sleep anywhere).  Anyways, I headed into town and contemplated finding a park somewhere to pass out in.  Instead, I stumbled upon the Town Basin, which is where the Whangerei townsite started.  There's a marina, restaurants, boutiques, and cool museums along the basin and the charm of the place made me forget how tired I was for a while.  It didn't last long though, so after a quick pit stop at the supermarket I headed back.  The walk should have only taken around twenty minutes, but I dragged my feet so much I think the time doubled.  My room was ready when I got back, but I started to watch a movie in the sitting area and just passed out on the couch for a solid two hours.  Glorious nap was glorious.  Hello world, I'm ready to deal with you again.

Big Day Out, or I'm so tired but I can't stop dancing.

Ever since I met Vero on the Magic Bus two months ago, we have been planning to go to Big Day Out - a festival that travels around New Zealand and Australia and brings awesome bands together for a fantastic day in the park. The only show in New Zealand is in Auckland, and people came from all over the country to attend. When I was boarding the bus to Auckland from Napier, a bunch of other people were also heading north for the show. I felt a bit of a collective energetic buzz over it, imagine what it would have been like for the Rugby World Cup!

We started the day off properly, and drank some of my beloved Scrumpy in a city park before taking the shuttle bus down to Mt Smart Stadium. It was a cool set up, with three stages set throughout the area, each with their own charm. But we were immediately attracted to the FOAM TENT! I don't know why, but I have always thought it would be really cool to go to a foam party. This one was outdoors and well lit, so it seemed a bit less sketchy than the ones I've heard about in clubs. We slipped around, blowing bubbly foam at each other and dancing to bad pop music for a while. It cleaned us right up.

Next, we went to check out Six60, a New Zealand band based out of Dunedin. They're pretty popular here in their homeland, and no matter what kind of music you like, I'm pretty sure you'll like this song, which is a pretty nice tune to listen to when you're far away from home like me:

After that, we lazed around for a while in the sun, and then wandered over to the skate stage. Now I realize the heyday of skateboarding has come and gone, but apparently it is a staple at every BDO. To make it ridiculous and cool, Tony Hawk was skateboarding. Tony Hawk! My reaction was of the "what is this I can't even" variety.

From about 5 o'clock on, we were booked solid in terms of bands that we wanted to see. To start it off was Kimbra, a New Zealand born singer who recently won best new Australian artist of the year. Go figure. Her biggest claim to fame is being the supporting artist in Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know", but she just had a solid set full of her own music. Such a tiny woman, such a powerful voice. From Kimbra, we ran to Bassnectar who I absolutely love. I've already seen him twice, but that didn't take away from the music. I'm used to seeing him play around 1 AM though, so it was weird to see this creature of the night play at 6 in the evening. It took the Kiwis a while to warm up, but once they did he had the crowd in his pocket. Next up: Girl Talk. I saw Girl Talk play in Edmonton at Sonic Boom a few years ago, and he's one of those acts that is always a good show. He skillfully mixes pop songs together to create a mass dance party with songs everyone knows. Sadly, this was the part of the day when the people around me in the crowd had collectively reached sloppy day drunk status, which is never fun when you're sober. Luckily I'm well trained to avoid people falling on/stepping on/making out on me. Girl Talk likes making everything more exciting by throwing whatever he can at the audience: balloons, giant plastic crowd surfing tubes, streamers, toilet paper.. The toilet paper was probably the most exciting prop as those sloppy drunk girls would wrap themselves in it and dance like it was the sexiest thing that ever happened. Girls, it's toilet paper.

After two hardcore dancing sets, we needed a break and headed to the stage with the grassy field to watch Foster the People. I have listened to their album, but still am only really familiar with their two radio hits. It was a great set, and the band still seemed so shocked with their overnight success after Pumped Up Kicks took off- it was kind of adorable. They finished their set with the mass hit, but changed the end to a sort of live dubstep remix of the song. Very cool.

Royksopp was very interesting live. They all wore different costumes for each song, which usually had a creepy as mask. They played my favourite song early on, which gave me the energy boost needed to dance for the rest of the set. From there we ran over to see Soundgarden. For me, Soundgarden is one of those bands that I know a lot of their songs but don't really care about one way or another. Still, they rocked the main stage. Vero headed into the massive crowd, but I was feeling like I might just fall asleep in the bleachers where I was sitting and listened from afar.

I decided to ditch Soundgarden early to watch the final show of the evening at the Boiler Room stage. Nero was playing, and it was one of those bands that I had heard about but never actually listened to. I thought I'd go to the back sitting area to watch, but when I arrived at the stage, the two dj's popped up from behind their soundboard and started a ridiculous set. I immediately started dancing. Vero and I brought glowsticks that had strings attached and naturally, it turned into this really bad poi dancing but I couldn't stop. I had been going hard for ten hours at this point, but I guess the music inspired me and I just danced harder than ever. Such a crazy amount of energy. I've never felt that before, it was slightly otherworldly. I hope I get to that point again someday. Dancing like a crazy person is one of my favourite releases.

Other than the fantastic music, the biggest success of the day was not spending any money at the festival! Other than the silly ticket. Worst part of the festival was cutting the bottom of my foot open early on in the day and then dancing on it all day. It's a shallow cut and never bled, but the fact that its on the bottom of my foot and I'm already limping doesn't bode well. Especially considering I have no time to stay off it to help it heal. The cut will probably be around for a while. Damn injuries. Oh well. A little pain for an amazing day with music? Worth it.

Bluff Hill and Goodbyes

Napier Prison is located on Bluff Hill, which is a great look out point since the rest of the town is down at sea level.  Originally, the hill was used by Maori elders to study the night sky as they used astronomy to figure out the best times for planting, harvesting, and fishing.  Later when Europeans arrived, the bluff was converted to an army barracks and a place for a lighthouse before the prison took over.  Thanks, Tour Guide Danielle!
But prison is actually only part way up the hill.  If you climb up to the very top, there is a great lookout spot complete with benches and a large compass/bowl installation that details the surroundings of Napier. On one of my first nights in town, the inmates all headed up to the top to have a few drinks and look out over Napier, the ocean, and the unfortunate looking Ahuriri port, which is full of shipping containers, lumber, and the odd cruise ship.  It's quiet up there at night, and quite lovely.  We went up a number of evenings in the dark, and it always felt like a special place just for the inmates.  It was also always made much more exciting by the fact that we walked through Sturm's Gully to get there, which is a small forest in between the residential zone and the park at the top.
Bluff Hill is actually a big tourist destination for Napier, and so I was determined to see it in all of its daytime glory at least once.  So yesterday, I headed up with Kat and Destiny.  It was nice to be able to see things other than the artificially lit up port, and the views were worth the climb.  Still, the tourists made it less magical.
Tonight we headed up one last time as a farewell activity for me on my last night in prison, and the Bluff instantly regained its magic.  We could hear some kids hollering in the forest on our way up, but their voices died away as we got closer to the lookout.  The night sky was totally clear, so we all laid down to take in the stars.  I enjoy star gazing at home, but I have never been too fussed to know what constellations I was looking at... At least until I came to the southern hemisphere.  The unfamiliar star patterns have inspired me to learn a bit more about my own stars.
Destiny and I climbed into the bowl/compass to star gaze, and something about it gave us the giggles that were lost on the others.  However, we were all on the same page as we watched satellites travel from one side of the sky to the other and shooting stars appear and disappear faster than we could share them with eachother. 
At one point, I was asked to reflect on my favourite and least favourite parts of prison life.  It was a hard question.  I have had a lot of fun being a tour guide and scaring people with real stories from prison history.  I also love being 5 minutes away from the ocean and having it lull me to sleep every night.  Although I think the best part of prison was the amazing connections I made with my dear fellow inmates.  I will miss them.
If I could ban all cockroaches from crawling around in my cell and have the writing portion of my job happen at 2AM when I'm used to writing, I think prison would have been close to perfect.  As it is, I still can't complain and am sad to be leaving.  Although I am getting super stoked to start exploring more of this beautiful country.

Ocean Spa

One of the last things on my to-do list in Napier was go to the Ocean Spa, which is a pool area right next to the ocean. It's super popular, mostly because Napier Beach has crazy rip tides and locals don't like swimming in it. I hadn't gone at all during my month here since it does cost nine dollars to get in, but the lactic acid was really building up in my muscles after my hike up to Sunrise Hut. Every time I stood up I thought my hips were going to snap. Time for a soak in a hot tub.

Destiny, Kat and I headed down after dinner with the hope of avoiding screaming children. We were mostly successful. We stayed in the hot tub for a long time, only taking two quick breaks to jump in the cold pool. The hot tubs are on a bit of a raised surface and have glass fences, so we could look out at the ocean waves crashing in just metres from where we were sitting. After two hours, my muscles were perfectly relaxed and I was ready to head in for the night. We walked back to the prison in the dark with only our towels wrapped around us.

It's January 16th, and I comfortably walked for ten minutes outside at night barely wearing any clothes. I guess what I'm really trying to say is that it's currently -25 in Edmonton. Suckers.

The Sun Rise

The original plan for sunrise was to walk up for another half an hour to a higher peak, but the wind and cold killed that one pretty fast, and we crawled out of our bunks at 5:15 still wrapped in our sleeping bags and sat on the benches outside of the hut.  We watched the sky change from black to red to brilliant daylight.  It was so refreshing to watch - I can't remember the last time I've just sat and watched a sunrise.

Sadly, Kat and Gaston had to work at 9AM, so we had to pack up and run down the hill by 6:30.  Even though it took us 3 hours to get up, we booked it down in only an hour and ten minutes.  Tired but happy, we arrived back at the prison on time, recharged with the beauty of nature. 

Sun Rise Hut

Joaquin used to work in the prison before my time, but left when he got a job in town. He still hangs out with the inmates a lot, and he has one of the best things a friend can have in a foreign country - a car.  Joaquin had heard about a hiking trail about an hour away from Napier where you hike in, sleep in a hut, and wake up in time for a beautiful sunrise.  The trail is cleverly called the Sunrise Track.  I love hiking, and have only used my hiking shoes once since I've been here.  I was definitely down.

Joaquin, Kat, Gaston, and myself took off from Napier around four, and headed into the country. It's been really nice basing myself in one place and recharging my travel energies, but I didn't realize how much I missed the New Zealand countryside. After two months, I still can't get over how beautiful the rolling green hills are with the small white dots of sheep grazing everywhere as the road curves around the small valleys throughout the countryside. It's constantly stunning.

We arrived at the trail head at six, and prepared to climb a mountain. Well actually that was mostly me.  When I read a description of the hike, I read a fun, easy 3 hour hike made for families and casual hikers.  I'm not sure where my brain was when I knew I was going to watch the sunrise, but I wasn't quite expecting three hours of walking straight uphill.

The trail started on grassy farmland and was quite wide and flat.  Shortly after, we left the farms and entered reserveland, where it actually felt like we were on a trail.  The vegetation was fantastic and kept changing the higher we went up.  I know this is the same as in the Rockies, but I've spent so much of my time there and am so familiar with the vegetation that I don't really notice when we move out of different temperate zones.  It's sad to think that New Zealand used to be covered in forest and it was humans that cleared it all out to become a massive farmland today, but at the same time I wouldn't be here, enjoying this hike if it were any other way.

Three hour hikes uphill are good, in the way that they teach me just how out of shape my short little beer and butter loving body is.  I feel like I walk more in Napier than at home in Edmonton since I don't have a car, but prison life has proven to be a lethargic one - surprise surprise.  At least I did it though! Slow and steady wins the race.  We arrived at the top in just under 3 hours, and thankfully there were still bunks available in the hut.  The hut itself is gorgeous.  It's made out of very solid wood, and has triple decker bunk beds.  There is a large kitchen/dining area with gas stoves (although you need to bring in your own pots) and partly purified water. For only 15 dollars a night, New Zealand has definitely got its priorities in order.

The wind that we had heard in the trees the whole way up was unleashed on us at the hut since we were finally at the top of the mountain. We wanted to have a look around before we turned in for the night, as the hut doesn't have electricity and we didn't really feel like entertaining each other by flashlight.  Standing in front of the hut, the building sheltered us from the more intense winds, but Gaston said he wanted to see sunset too, so we climbed to the top of the top of the mountain. The best way I can describe what happened next was that the wind made love to us.  We started climbing and thought it was funny that the wind could make us lose our balance if we weren't paying attention.  The further we climbed, the more intense the wind got to the point that it was easiest to sit and shuffle your way up hill.  At a certain point, I recklessly ran further up, and Joaquin intelligently went back to the hut.  Gaston followed me, and caught up when I was laying against a ridge.  I was half paralyzed there by wind, half by laughter. My tight sweater with the elastic band at the base was lifting up in the wind. The snot was flying out of my nose and I couldn't stop it. I was half afraid that my contacts were going to be ripped out of my eyes. It had to be 100 km/hour winds. It almost reminded me of skydiving. Gaston and I sat there laughing for minute, trying to talk to eachother but having our voices ripped away by the wind.  This is your brain on drugs? Nope. This is your brain on wind. I wanted to go higher and get even more intense, but I motioned to Gaston for his opinion first - up or down?

DOWN!!! 

So, with one sane person in the party, we started down the dangerous trek back to the hut.  On a normal day, we wouldn't have batted an eye, but as it was, we were seriously worried about being blown off.  It was fine until we reached a two meter stretch without any lip of land to hold on to.  Gaston scurried across first, and then I half crawled, half ran over to the other side.  It was at this point that I finally  started to notice my hands taking on the same colour and feel as the worst frost bite days of an Edmonton winter.  I'm glad Gaston was paying attention and made us go down, because I was oblivious.  We slid down the rest of the hill on our butts, and made it back to the hut with uncontrollable giggles.

I'm now laying in my third level bunk, typing this out on my iPod.  I only brought it so I could avoid the bad snorers in a mixed dorm, but I'm glad I was able to write this down when it was so fresh.  When I was little, my family would camp in Waterton National Park where the winds seemed like they might push over the tent trailer in the middle of the night.  The hut, as solid as it is, is still creaking and shifting in the wind and I'm very happy that I'm inside, snug as a bug in a rug. 

Hawke's Bay Wine Tour

On the morning of Rachel's last day in prison, we both had the 9-12 shift.  It was overcast, and I didn't really expect much of the day as we were shut in the office working on our scripts.  Around 11, the skies cleared up and the sun started shining.  Brilliant! Rachel wanted to do something, I wanted to do something.  But what? Everything in New Zealand can be really fun and exciting so long as you're willing to pay ridiculous amounts of money for it.  I guess that's how the world works, but it seems especially true here.  Rachel had wanted to do a wine tour of area since Hawke's Bay is the second largest producers of wine in New Zealand.  However, she didn't want to drive herself only to stay sober, so it never happened.  I had seen some wine touring buses advertised online, so I asked Rachel if she was willing to blow her budget a bit.  For wine? Always! After a quick call to the i-Site and an easy transfer of funds, we were signed up for the Prinsy Wine Tour-complete with cheese board.

Hamish, our driver, picked us up from the bottom of Bluff Hill about 20 minutes after we booked, and  I immediately satisfied that we had made a great decision.  He was super friendly, and immediately got the positive energy flowing throughout the bus.  Hamish had spent some time working on a ranch near Calgary, and his daughter is currently living in Vancouver, so I felt the comfort of someone knowing where you come from. We had 4 other tour mates - Beryl and Jerry from England, and two quiet but very nice Korean girls.  Rachel and I were quickly nicknamed Oregon and Canada, which stuck for the rest of the afternoon.

We went to the Mission Estate, Moana, and Black Barn Wineries, along with one more I'm afraid I can't remember the name of, but that was where I had the most delicious cheese plate of my life, so I shall call it Cheese Plate Winery. I'm talking 5 different kinds of cheeses, olives, whole grain bread, crackers, apples, dolmas, hummus, plum sauce, pickled onions, and delicious, delicious wine on a sunny Monday afternoon.  Heaven.

My favourite winery was Moana, where their philosophy towards wine making means they are organic and vegetarian.  They also don't use sulphates during the harvesting process, which is what gives you that horrible wine hangover.  What I mean is, you can drink all the wine you want, and you won't get that horrible day after headache.   Ohmygods.  When you get to the Cellar door at Moana (which is a general name of where you taste wine at vineyards), a staff member sits down with you and spends as long as you want talking about the wine you're drinking and all of the practices they have going on behind the scenes.  Our lady told us a funny story about being at a Vegan Convention where she was selling her wine, and accidentally telling a customer how good it tasted with steak. Whoops.  They are also connected to a winery in Creston, BC.  I didn't even know Canada had wineries.

Hamish also took us up to Te Mata Peak, which is another of the 'must do's' in the area.  It was stunning - a 360 degree vista around Hawkes Bay all the way to the ocean.

All this was amazing, but my favourite part of the wine tour was spending the day with Beryl and Jerry.  They were in their 80s, but spunky as hell. They started the afternoon off by reminiscing about that time in Greece when Beryl had a lot of wine to drink, and danced on the tables in the bar they were in.  I was immediately smitten with her.  We were encouraged to give our opinions on what we were drinking, and whenever Rachel would offer up an answer, Beryl would immediately respond with "I like the way that Oregon thinks. Very clever girl."  After the first two wineries, Beryl decided she had enough to drink, and started to pour her serving into my wine glass.  Love her.

With the help of wine, any conversation can flow easily, but this extended to the point where we were all invited over to England to be wined and dined at Beryl and Jerry's house.  You just need to take Exit 23 off the M6, and it's the 3rd house from the end.  I can't wait to go.

Cape Kidnappers

One of the top activities to do in the Napier region is the hike to Cape Kidnappers.  The Cape is large jut of land that makes up the southern tip of Hawke's Bay, and got its name way back in 1769 when Captain Cook was exploring the area.  His crew was trying to trade with local Maori who were on the sea in their canoes called waka, but a Tahitian servant of Cook's interpreter named Tiata was grabbed by the Maori.  Tiata only escaped when the waka was fired on and he jumped into the sea.  I also heard another story where Tiata wanted to go with the Maori because he felt more at home in their culture than with the English, but this wasn't communicated properly and the English explorers thought he was being kidnapped.  Who knows.

Nowadays you can get to the cape at low tide either by a very expensive shuttle bus that takes you all the way to the top, a wagon pulled by a tractor where you still have to hike up to the top of the cliff, or for free by walking an 18km round trip from a trail head near a campground.  Naturally, Rachel, Alex, and I chose the free option.  Saturday was the only day we could all go, and the tide was out at 11.  This meant we had to start the hike by 7:30AM.

It was definitely worthwhile.  The walk to the cape is gorgeous, and as you stroll along the beach, you can look up at sharp cliff faces that are composed of sedimentary rock.  The deeper layers go back 5 million years.  The path is made more exciting by the threat of falling rock (although we were walking well away from it so there was no possibility of being hit).  On the other hand, we were fighting the tides, and at certain places along the trail we had to wade into the ocean to continue on. This made it all a bit more exciting.

About an hour in, we came across our first Australasian Gannet colony.  These birds use Cape Kidnappers to breed and raise their young during the summer, although they head elsewhere for the winter months.  The birds are quite beautiful, with white bodies and burnt orange heads.  The smell was pretty horrible though.  The beach ends where the cliffs come right into the ocean, and the trail starts going uphill to go to the peak of Cape Kidnappers.  The inland area was beautiful, with rolling green hills and sheep grazing.  The tip of the Cape held a lighthouse and a huge number of the birds.  With my scarf over my nose, I could get right up close to the birds without them being bothered in the slightest- even the ones that were still caring for down-covered chicks.  We had lunch on a lowered section of the cliff.  The view was beautiful, and we were upwind of the gannets.  Wonderful way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Goodbye Death Row, Hello Conjugal Unit

When Will left the prison for bigger adventures, he left the Conjugal Unit open for grabs. It's not actually the conjugal unit though, back when it was a backpackers, the owners let the backpackers label the units with things like conjugal, parole board, penthouse, and psych ward. The original prison had exciting names like Cells 1 through 26. Units are the best cells in the prison, because they're big, have two beds, and have their own sinks and toilets.

Rachel was up for a swap, but didn't want to sleep on her own in the scary, haunted prison. I was getting a little bit tired of the uncomfortable bed in Cell 16, and because it was so close to the kitchen, it was noisy and made it hard to sleep. One quick test of the bed in Conjugal and I was sold. The hilarity of the conjugal bed being the best in the prison is not lost on me.

As a final tribute to my time on death row, I will now showcase just how tiny it was.

Need I remind you I'm only 5 foot 2 (and three quarters)?

Finding Your Peace in the Hanging Yard

I've been in a weird mood for the past few days. I think I'm getting restless. I want to see things, but they're all just far enough away that it's not worth getting a bus, and I have to think seriously about walking or taking a bike to see them. I always go to the same places in Napier, and it's usually pretty dead. Not to mention the fact that I don't really have the money to spend on going out since I don't have a job.

This went on until tonight, when Rachel came up out of no where and suggested we do yoga. I'm always up for yoga, so I changed into some stretchy clothing and we headed out. Well, we 'headed out' to the hanging yard. Rachel put on some chill music that was complimented by the sound of the ocean just below us, and as we went through our poses, the clouds cleared and the skies of the southern hemisphere came out. It was the weirdest yoga I've ever done. So long as I was ignoring the fact that our safe space was actually an area where people had been executed for horrible murders, I really could find that inner peace.

Oh Prison.

Canadian/American Relations

The offer of free accommodation at the prison attracts backpackers from all around the world. Apparently, there always seems to be a majority nationality that dominates, although this shifts as people come and go. Before I came, apparently there were a lot of Germans working here. Now, we have Welsh, English, Scottish, French, Dutch and Canadian, but the majority status goes to Americans. This creates fun, playful jokes between us as we bug eachother about stereotypes from North America. I was playing Taboo with Kat, Destiny, and Anabel who come from Alabama and Arizona. If you don't know, Taboo is a game where you have to get your teammate to guess a word by describing it. The trick is, you can't use the 'taboo' words that are listed on the card. My mind locked up when I had to make Destiny guess "Palm Tree" without saying Florida or beach, and even though I was playing with Americans, my first hint was "Canada doesn't have any".

Quick as a whip, Destiny responded, "Happiness?"

Clever girl.

Perogies!

It was hard to anticipate what the worst part about being away for Christmas was going to be. As it turned out, I had such an out-of-the-ordinary spectacular time that it was hard to remember what I was missing at home. Still, when we had our prison Christmas feast on Christmas Eve, I was very aware of the lack of perogies, cabbage rolls, and cubasa. What is a holiday without excessive amounts Ukrainian food?

New Zealand grocery stores do not come stocked with these things like they might be back in Canada. There's sausages, but not proper cubasa. There's dolma, which is rice balls held together with grape vine leaves, but no holopchi. I don't think I could make those things anyways, but I was bound and determined to have some petaheh for the holiday season. With the ridiculous amounts of food we had over Christmas, there was no point in making them. But on New Years Day, I was channeling my Ukrainian heritage more than ever and was full of energy from the amazing evening I had the night before. It was perogy making time. While the kitchen in prison has a lot of cooking utensils, it's still quite sub par to a kitchen I'd own myself. I got the recipe from my aunt Trish, who is basically half professional, and makes the dough in a special food processor.

Made-of-Fail Cooking Utensils

On the other hand, I was dealing with a flimsy plastic mixing bowl, an electric mixer with only one functioning beater, and whatever else I could get my hands on. In terms of the ingredients, I had the cheapest flour I could buy, and real cottage cheese instead of dry because couldn't find any in the store. This made me pretty nervous for how watery the filling would be.

My first attempts at making the dough were quite miserable. The butter was hard even though it had sat out at room temperature, and I was having trouble mixing it with the flour. I felt a bit better when I realized Babas of old wouldn't have had dough machines, so I used knives to mix the ingredients together as best as I could. Eventually, I had a strangely dark lump of dough, ready to be rolled. I'm guessing the colour was from the difference in yolk colours from the eggs here to the ones in Canada.

I made my filling out of potatoes and cheese, and started to fold it all together. It was working. I excitedly called Trish to wish her a Happy New Year, but more importantly to get some praise for my impossible task. Perogies!!
In the end, I had 37 delicious little dumplings in front of me, ready to be devoured. I froze most of them, but boiled up a few to have with some fried onions and sausages. All the inmates tried them and said they tasted good. This may have been because I hadn't stopped talking about making them all day, but I was still on Cloud 9. Little taste of home on the other side of the world.

And That's How You Ring in the New Year

I woke up on New Years Eve morning to rain, which continued for the entire afternoon and well into the evening. This is common for New Zealand, but still disappointing for New Years. Every time it seemed like the weather might clear up, the rain just fell even harder and it seemed like New Years Eve might be a bit ruined with all the outdoor activities planned around town.

The inmates and I had some drinks and played taboo in the prison for a while until we finally dragged ourselves out at 10:30. Unlike every other night, Napier was bumping. They closed down Marine Parade and a few other main streets so that it was pedestrians only, and they had vendors set up and a band playing in the permanent live band shell next to the ocean. Since we had a lot of time to spare before midnight, we wandered around town for a bit, danced at The Cri, and then went back out around 11:30. The rain was still pouring down, but the band was quite good. I quickly ditched my shoes since they were little flats with 'fashion' holes in them anyways, and the ground was soaked. I paused for a second to take in my surroundings.

The rain was falling, and I was dancing to a live band in my bare feet wearing a tank top on New Years Eve. Life felt pretty spectacular right then, and then the countdown started. Literally at midnight, the rain miraculously stopped, and a brilliant 10 minute fireworks show began.

When the crowd cleared after fireworks, I looked down to see the damage I had inflicted by jumping around for the past hour. We were dancing on grass, but the rain had made the dirt come up to the surface. Vero and I had danced the hardest, and our legs were coated in mud that travelled all the way up to our waists. It just added to the wonder of the evening.

Our energy levels were off the hook, so we went back to The Cri (with the rest of the town) to dance our pants off. The Cri has this tacky stage with multi-coloured lights that flash underneath. I love dancing on that stage, but Napier night life is such that I'm usually one of the only people on it. On New Years Eve, we couldn't even get a spot on the stage. Like all over- crowded bars, it quickly became unbearably hot and I moved outside to cool off. My friends quickly followed, which led to a dance party in the middle of the street. Around 2, we headed back to prison for food. Some inmates decided to stay up for sunrise, but at 3 I was falling asleep on the chair and decided to go to bed with no regrets. I love my life.