Queens and Kings

If you are ever in Queenstown, the café Patagonia on the wharf makes a mean chili hot chocolate and a deliciously rich and creamy banana split gelato. Isn’t it ridiculous that I’m on a grand adventure around New Zealand with one of my best friends and I start the first blog post about it with a comment on food? I can’t help it! A fourth of my soul is made of meat, a fourth of dairy, a fourth of salad, and a fourth of chocolate. So you see, it’s not my fault that even across the world, food is always front and center in my mind.

Now to the actual adventures, with food interspersed amongst the stories.  

The drive from Christchurch to Mt. Cook Village was the most boring drive we’ll have on this trip, according to Dan, because for the first two hours we drove through farmland and rolling hills.

Gerty all packed up.

But then we hit the lakes and we stopped every five seconds to get pictures. I mean come on, look at the color of this water! How could you not stop?

Lake Tekapo and in all it’s teal glory.

At Lake Tekapo, we saw lots of little rock towers. I thought it looked like some ancient city, abandoned beside the sea.

Here is my structurally sound tower.

At the lake, there was also the most majestic dog statue I’ve ever seen.

Yummy lunch on the shores of Lake Tekapo. At least for some of us…

Lake Pukaki (yup that’s the real name) had similarly colored water, except it was even more opaque.

Lake Pukaki

We reached the hostel in Mt. Cook Village just before dinnertime. Dan and I are staying at hostels part of the Youth Hostel Association pretty much the entire trip, and to save money, we became YHA members. To save even more money, we bought the couples YHA membership so if anyone asks we’ve been dating for a year. We stayed in a seven person dormitory, which itself was pretty nice, but our roommates were all family or friends or something and they were loud as we tried to go to sleep and loud when they woke up around six. VERY frustrating. But we were not even in our room very much, so it didn’t matter.

Mt. Cook Village is an eerie place. It’s a tiny, tiny town (population: 400) made up of mostly motels and hostels. It is tucked right in against the mountains and it feels like it’s going to be destroyed at any moment. The mountains here rise straight into the sky without any introduction on the ground, illustrating the violent motions of the earth in New Zealand.

Mt. Cook Village

Mountains opposite the village with obvious landslide tracks.

Having my personal geologist along makes this trip even better because I can look at an odd land formation and Dan will explain to me how it was formed. He’s even better than Google because I can say, “That rock looks like skin!” And he can reply “Yeah. No not really.” It’s great.

The next morning, we walked to the Tasman Glacier before we left for Queenstown.

It’s not the majestic glacier I imagined but a rather grubby piece of ice. Can you spot it?

The icebergs in Lake Tasman are also not the pristine glittering gems we usually see in movies and National Geographic.

It sure was WINDY up there!

Off to Queenstown! The three and a half hour drive took us about six hour because of the constant stopping at:

The Wrinkly Ram Cafe, where we had to stop because of the name.

The Roaring Meg, where we had to stop because of the name.

This lake where we had to stop because Kiri needed lunch.

We finally reached Queenstown, checked into the Queenstown Lakeside YHA and headed out to scavenge for food. We ended up at Fergburger, a very famous burger spot in Queenstown. Usually, I stay away from the “famous” food stops because the lines are nuts and I feel like such a tourist, but this one was actually quick and it was fun trying the thing everyone (meaning Serious Eats and the Lonely Planet New Zealand guidebook) raved about.

Here was the place and the line that moved shockingly quickly.

And here were the burgers as big and my face. And good for a casual burger joint that’s whipping them out as a shocking speed. I'm dedicating the consumption of these behemoths to my father, lover of large food.

Queenstown is on yet another gorgeous lake, Lake Wakatipu.

The lake at sunset.

The next day was dominated by a hike to Ben Lomond Peak. It was billed as an eight hour trek for in-shape, experienced hikers ONLY, which, of course, Dan is and I am not. But you know these signs, they always try and scare away the people who possibly could get themselves into trouble so pretended that I never read the warnings.

On this map, you can see the totally weird shape of Wakatipu, Queenstown and Ben Lomond Peak right above Queenstown.

The sun shone as we started our hike up to the Ben Lomond Peak, but we started in a birch wood forest with branches so thick that it looked more like twilight than midmorning. In the forest there were also countless mountain biker trails, so Dan and I would be walking when suddenly on a parallel trail, a crazy person, a.k.a. biker, would come whizzing by, jump feet into the air, I’d shriek, and Dan would laugh. It reminded me of my cousins and how much fun they’d have flying down the paths. When we emerged from the woods and it was suddenly very, very sunny.

Impossible to squint any harder.

Although the hike was extremely steep, the views we got along the way and from the top were worth the huffing and puffing.

The summit of Ben Lomond Peak. Ten points if you can tell me the phase of the moon above the peak.

The mountains looked like someone took a giant rug and placed it across all the mountains. They all looked uniformly pale green and fuzzy, making it the perfect shag carpet for a dorm room in the 70s.

We reached the summit! You can start to see the odd shape of the lake. And the mountains along that side of the lake are called the Remarkables; they are popular ski fields (what they Kiwis call ski mountains).

The Summit Vanquisher (5 years old – present)

Mountain Woman

The trail is just visible along the ridge.

That night, we ate at The Cow, a pasta and pizza restaurant recommended by Serious Eats, and we felt we deserved some Serious Carbs.

Their famous garlic bread - the perfect side for pizza.

Bolognese Pizza

The crust wasn’t thin crust, but it was crunchy and not too bready with the strength to hold up the thick meat sauce. The atmosphere was also fantastic, old wooden booths that are shared among customers, and great music, such as The Jackson 5 and Chuck Berry. Dan got his usual and delicious Monteith’s Black and I got a very smooth Pinot Noir from the area. Basically, we lived like kings after conquering the mountain.

Today, Wednesday April 3, we grocery shopped, found a headphone splitter so we can watch movies with other hostelers around, and baked oddly puffy but still satisfying cookies. Then Dan got his haircut (it looks dashing) and I got into trouble buying reversible pants (I blame Char). Now here we are, sitting at Patagonia trying to download photos on the slowest internet ever and sipping my hot drink. Tomorrow we’re off to Te Anau, the walking capital of the world according to a flier Dan found. If you look it up online you’ll see why – it’s absolutely beautiful. Or maybe you can wait and I’ll tell you what’s it’s really like. I’m assuming it will go something like this – Te Anau is FREAKING BEAUTIFUL. But until then, enjoy the rest of your week!

(Disclaimer: I am fery surry if theree are typpfos or grammatical mistake, but I is a little in an hurry to nut oversty my velcom her at Patagone so I din’t profred. Sew sowry.)

Kiri and Dan's South Island Adventure Time of Fun and Adventure

Hi everyone! This is going to be a super short post because I am supposed to be furiously writing this essay to get it done before Dan and I head out on our three week car trip around the South Island. Here is our itinerary:

Sunday, March 31: Mt. Cook Village
April 1-3: Queenstown (Adventure capital of the world. Eek!)
April 4-6: Te Anau
April 7-8: Stewart Island (Where the amazing smoked salmon is from!)
April 9-10: Wanaka
April 11: Franz Josef
April 12-13: Punakaiki
April 14-16: Motueka
April 17-18: Nelson
April 19-20: Picton
Sunday, April 21: Back in Christchurch

Quite the trip, right? If you're looking at a map, we are moving in a clockwise direction starting in Christchurch. We have no plans for any of the places except for where we're going to sleep at night - hostels all the way baby! Except for two glorious nights my parents got us at a real hotel on Stewart Island with our very own private bathroom. Traveling on the cheap makes me appreciate traveling not on the cheap. I'm not sure what the internet situation is going to be, but I'll try and post as much as I can to let you know Dan and I are still alive and well. Yay for vacation! SCHOOLS OUT FOR SUMMER! Or maybe for the Easter holiday. SCHOOL'S OUT FOREVER! Or maybe just three weeks, but that's cool too. Have a great weekend!

A Beautiful Day and other adventures

I want to start this blog post with a thank you. Thank you so much to all the people who read my blog, and an extra thank you to those who then post or email me telling me they think I’m adventurous/crazy/tan/like my water bottle. It really, really, really gives me happy warm feelings and I appreciate the time you put into writing to me. Basically, it makes my week, so I’d appreciate it if you’d  keep it coming. Thanks.

I’m going to take this post backward in time because today (Saturday March 23) was one of those days I want to capture and keep in a bottle for times when I’m sad. I’d open up the top and let a little of the glow out and I’d brighten right up.  Since those kinds of days don’t come around too often, I want to share it immediately. First, it started when I woke up, pulled back the curtains and saw that it was a sunny day after a week of clouds here in Christchurch. The breeze lightly brushed my face, letting me know the day was going to be delightfully warm. Then, I lay back in bed, poured my heart out to my cousin in an email. After I finished being emotional and jaded, I shook my entire body and jumped up. The farmers market was calling! Over the weeks, I’ve gotten to know the market a little better and find it less overwhelming, so I can now take the stalls systematically instead of running all over the place in uncontrollable bliss. Until this week, I chose to eat whatever smelled the strongest or had the best sign. This week I’ll have a Middle Eastern pita! That week I’ll eat grilled muscles wrapped in bacon! Next week it’s bratwurst with mustard, tomato sauce (Kiwis decided ketchup was a useless term), and sauerkraut! The lady with the scones smiled at me so I guess it’s a chili pesto parmesan scone this morning! I floated around, agonizing over which stall to buy from for my market meal, but this week I had a plan: pain au chocolat from the Bellbird Bakery. Walking past their table every week I'd peer into the baskets and they always had the best looking croissants I’ve seen anywhere in Christchurch. I walked to the farmers market with purpose because I knew Today was the Day. 

The farmers market is held at the Riccarton Bush, a park approximately 1.3 miles from the University of Canterbury. I always walk the back roads in more suburban parts of the city because I love to see the neat gardens spread around most houses’ front steps. Clearly the English influence runs deep. A messy garden (my favorite kind) gets dirty looks from the neighbors, and you can't call yourself a New Zealander if you have no garden at all.

I know the only garden-ish thing in this picture are the decorative hedges on the left, but look how peaceful it is! Such a nice break from the busy road I live on.

Every week when I arrive at the farmers market, I still do a dry run past the stalls before I buy anything just in case something new and exciting has cropped up that I need to consider (100% of the time there is something new and exciting. See grilled muscles wrapped in bacon, an oyster pie, cumin hummus). After I buy everything I’m planning on bringing back to the flat (I moved out of the freshman dorm and into UC flats if I didn’t mention that before), I carefully choose a treat to eat in the sunshine by the river while I’m at the park. As I mentioned, today I was sure the pain au chocolat would be my treat. I went to the Bellbird Bakery stall and bought the flaky goodness with so much enthusiasm the girls behind the table were clearly uncomfortable. Cradling my pastry, I walked towards my favorite patch of grass to sit and devour the thing I had dreamed about for a week until a sign stopped me dead. It read “Pulled pork on homemade ciabatta with seasonal sesame slaw.” Wow.  If a charging bull could read, I bet that sign would stop a charging bull. In a trance of wonder I flew to the stall placed my order for one sandwich and stood back to wait. It took me about 30 seconds to realize the very kind and excited chef was talking to me. “Are you from the States?” Cough, “Ahem, ARE YOU FROM THE STATES.”

“Oh wow, sorry, me. Yes, I’m from the States.”

“Where are you from?”

“Boston-”

“Oh great! Boston is beautiful! I once went to New York, and then we drove up to Boston! I loved it! Nice change of pace from New York!” It is absolutely shocking to me that New Zealanders know Boston, but they always do. If people ask me where I’m from and I say the US, they look at me like, “duh, I know that. Nice accent.” Anyway, I went on to tell the chef that pulled pork is one of my favorite foods and her response made me even happier to be buying it from her. She said, “Oh really? That’s great! I am just so happy to be bringing it to everyone! I just love that I can bring it to you!” I love that she loves being extremely busy with no break since nine in the morning because she is sharing her food. And it was fantastically zinging with lots of citrus in the slaw and a little bit of heat in the tender pork. Definitely yum, as the Kiwis say.

Here’s a picture of all my purchases. Multigrain bread, amazing Royal Gala apples picked that morning and oh so sweet, The Sandwich, bagels for Dan because he loved them and had to buy that awful store brand kind because no bakery near us makes them, cumin hummus, pain au chocolat, peppers.

With happiness in my belly, I walked back to campus to meet Sarina and Dan because we were headed out to the beach! Sumner Beach is about a half hour drive away from UC so I hadn't gone yet. Finally on this gorgeous day we made the trek and I am so glad we did.

This photo was taken out of the window on the drive. Not too bad huh?

These shipping containers line the road to stop rocks from the cliff falling into the road.

By this point in my life, I should probably remember how much I love the ocean. Months had passed since I had quality time with the ocean. As soon as we stepped onto the beach, I ran to the water on very fine, soft sand, and stood in the surf looking out at the horizon. As waves pushed against my shins and the sun burned my nose, my soul healed. City living wears away at it bit by bit and I don’t realize it until I leave the busy streets and zooming cars. As soon as I’m out of the chaos, my shoulders relax and insecurities that build up in my brain are momentarily shaken out. It feels wonderful. Today I was reminded of the calming affect of the ocean, and why both of my favorite places in the world center on the sea.

I love the ocean.

Leg face

Super cool plant. Anyone know what it is?

Now I will quickly go through the other adventures I’ve had in the past week. Don’t worry, there will be more pictures and less words.

Last Sunday, Dan and I headed out to Governor’s Bay, about a 20 minute drive from UC, to a fancy café called She Chocolat. They had a stand at the farmers market the day before and everything they had was so pretty I wanted to make a pilgrimage to their actual restaurant.

Chili hot chocolate

Frozen tiramisu. At the bottom of the picture there is a little cup with whipped cream in it. Yeah, that cup was made of chocolate. I felt like I was in Willy Wonka’s factory.

Intricate Easter display. The massive Easter eggs She Chocolat displayed around the cafe were beautiful with swirling blue and green dyed chocolate and small golden stars.

Last Saturday, Dan, Lauren and I went to rugby game. Crusaders, Christchurch’s team, KILLED the Bulls, a team from South Africa. The best part was that the Crusaders had lost two out of two games this season and the Bulls had won three out of three. So it was an especially sweet win for Christchurch. I want to do a special shout out here to Joe Karasch who patiently explained the rules of rugby to me using pool balls. I forgot pretty much everything except for scrum, line out (embarrassing if that’s not what it’s called) and that a score is called a try. I took pictures of everything I recognized, and everything else too.

Yay RUGBY! Well some of us are excited.

One of the best doughnut holes I’ve ever had. Cinnamon sugar covered fried bits of dough. I’m drooling right now. I really need a tissue.

At the beginning of the game, men dressed as crusaders gallop horses around the stadium. They stop on each side and raise their swords.

I whip my hair back 'n forth, I whip my hair back 'n forth! Crusader cheerleaders, the Maidens, came out at the beginning too. They had blond hair and about three dance moves.

Every time the Crusaders scored, huge columns of flame jetted into the air. We were sitting about 15 rows back from the fire and I could still feel its heat. Crusaders are red, the Bulls are blue.

Blurry scrum. You can see the large sword and castle gates in the far right corner of the field. The horses galloped through the gates, obviously. Also I don’t know if you can tell, but the refs are the ones in bright pink.

Blurry line out. Look how high those guys are lifted into the air! They are so big! The great thing about such a small stadium was that even though we had the cheapest tickets, our view was still really good.

Last Friday night I went to my first wine club tasting, 8 Red Wines from Around the World. There was a guy sitting at my table who is blind and has been making wine for 30 years. I didn’t get to talk to him too much, but I really want to hear his story. Throughout the night we actually tasted ten wines, which felt like a lot. Luckily I was prepared and limited myself to only a couple sips of each, but some of my fellow club members were rather rosy cheeked by the time we left. My favorite wine of the night was a Malbec, but in a room of about 45 people, I was alone in that opinion. The majority of people chose the port at the end as their favorite, but I thought it tasted like cough syrup. Moral of the night, Kiri knows nothing about wine.  I still had a ton of fun and got to spend some time with a different group of people. At the end of the night, they raffle off all the half drunk bottles left over from the tasting, and I won the last bottle! It is a Côtes du Rhône that has about two glasses left. I’m very excited about this because it is the first lottery I’ve ever “won.” Wait no, that I’ve ever won, no quotations marks, I’m calling this a solid win.

That was a much longer post than I intended. Maybe it can be used as a study/work break? Or use it an excuse to read something that’s not your email/a textbook/things about the new pope.  Basically, I hope this is used as a procrastination tool. Happy Weekend!