Jessie's Decadent 21st Birthday

Our dear, sweet Jessie celebrated her 21st
last week with much fanfare and indulgence.

We began her day by serving her breakfast in bed - she had to start her day out well to make it through! In the picture you can see her working on french toast and a jello shot, and she also had some yoghurt and fruit, and her first mimosa of the day! Matt, Alli and I provided most of the grub, and Thimo contributed his delivery and singing services.

Here we all are seeing what we could do with our faces after eating breakfast with Jessie, perhaps a very special gift to her? or perhaps not...In any case, breakfast was delicious, and there was plenty of French toast to go around. Later on we even got to see Hailey, who is pictured below. The faces they are making in that picture, however, were in no way staged.

Funny faces at left, top to bottom: Matt with the tongue-spot cheek blow, Jessie with the opposite lip snarl, Anjali trying to get all of her features to the center of her face, Thimo as a more-frightening-than-cute rabbit, and me joining in the lip snarl with Jessie.

If only all birthdays could start so sweetly!

Yes, you have not met Hailey. She was yet another person brought initially to us by Jessie, our social butterfly. I got to get to know Hailey on our trip to the peninsula, so now I can say that she is my friend too! Hailey hails from the lovely state of Oregon. Unrelated to that (I think), she also makes damn good banana muffins, which she brought later in the day to Jessie's formal dessert party... Yippers.

We decided that, since we were throwing Jessie a formal dessert party at 9pm, we would dress up for dinner, also. So, at left you can see our dapper group of five, all ready for a stylish dinner on George Street.

Left to right: Matt, Thimo, me, Jessie, Libby

The Ananda Indian Cafe became our dining destination, where I got my first Indian cuisine since being in NZ. Oh, and was it ever a treat. The restaurant is unique in that they offer five different curries every night, and so we decided to have one of each and share everything - a great idea. The curries included: zucchini and mango; cheese dumplings in a tomato sauce; savory brown lentils; curried potatoes and onions; and eggplant with seeds and spices. Yum. I could not pass up the mango lassi, and we also started the meal with some stuffed naan and a fried potatoe, onion and pea ball (name?). We left not a bit of food on our plates - our mothers would all be proud.


We got back to J Flat to find our house already full of well-dressed friends, and we stuffed ourselves full of tasty desserts (where my cheesecake got a chance to shine, and was the only dessert of the evening to be completely finished off!), sipped on some beverages, and did a great deal of booty shaking! The evening continued on after that at the Bath St and...and..and..Jessie did make it home safely and soundly, exhausted after a super day of celebrating. Amazing how many good friends you can make in a month! And it has only just begun...

Introducing: 505 Great King Street

It is high time I introduce an individual very important to my stay in Dunedin. The quaint, green brick abode (pictured at left), nestled in the center of 505 Great King Street, houses two flats. The upper level flat, "J" is where I live with Anjali, Matt and Jessie, and Thimo, Al, Sean and Thomas reside below us in flat "K." There are green, grassy patches a-plenty, and many sweet climbing trees.

Matt, Thimo, Al and I recently took advantage of the trees' climbability by sitting up in the yard's front-most trees while Matt played the guitar and harmonica, and Thimo, Al and I sang, hummed, or tapped along. This quickly turned into a sociological study for those of us not playing music, as we looked down upon those passing on the sidewalk on the other side of the fence...

Some looked around them, unsure where the music was coming from, until, to their amusement, they looked up and saw the 505 Great King Street Band in the trees. Others knew of our prescence in the trees and continued to walk by, perhaps thinking that we were too silly, or that they were too serious - or they didn't want to allow us to enter their bubble. Those who missed us entirely had portable music devices engaged, were unable to hear us, and thus, were not compelled to look for the source of the music. Thier loss. It is also likely that those who did not acknowledge us relegate tree-climbing to the shadows of their past; they render the activity a loved but extinct pasttime of their sweeter childhood years, and avoid adult contact with it to save themselves the pain that can come of reminiscence. Another theory: it is also possible that our evolutionary ancestors came out of the trees nearly five million years ago, and we still harbour deep instintual feelings compelling us up, up into our specie's former dwelling.

...Perhaps the residents of 505 Great King will slowly return to the canopies - I will let you know when we begin to eat and sleep up there, but for now consider it a revolution in the making.

Okay, consider yourself introduced!

(In the images above: on top you see the building from the front - this is the entrance to flat J and a bit of the west garden; left you see a side view of the building, the walkway to flat J's door arching above, and flat K's straight ahead; right you see a shot of the south garden, with the big, beautiful, burgundy-leaved tree)

Mt Cargill: View from the Top

This past Saturday, the 11th of March, I decided to take a little bike ride. I did not know where I would go, but just headed out in one direction - North along the Otago harbour coast. After many ups and downs (although fewer and less severe than those not along the coast), and just before reaching Port Chalmers, Dunedin's main port city where the harbour meets the ocean, I headed up Mt Cargill Road, and began my ascent up the backside of William Cargill's big hill. He is one famous dude - mountain, city, Tunnel Beach...I suppose being the founding father of the otago region gets you some acclaim, especially considering that in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Dunedin was New Zealand's first city...

The view I included looks down on the harbour, across to the peninsula, from halfway up the side of Mt Cargill. You may be interested to learn that Mt Cargill is an outcrop that still remains of the massive shield volcano that used to cover the region, of which the harbour is the crater, and the peninsula the lip on the other side. This makes most of the rocks in the area andesitic and rhyolitic, for you geologists out there. Mt Cargill is the highest point above the city.

It took me nearly an hour and a half to bike and hike to the top, and then twenty minutes of curvy, downhill coasting all the way back down the other side and into the city of Dunedin at the bottom of the valley! A good bike ride, which also compelled me to purchase a longer seat post for my bike, as it quickly became tiresome not being able to extend my legs all the way. A sweet little bike trip, and more to come.

Hokey Pokey!

Hokey Pokey is an icecream unique to New Zealand, and statistically the country's second favorite only to vanilla. A caramel-honey icecream with small, crunchy toffee bits, it is a delectable treat. So yes, Hokey Pokey is what it's all about. In the image you can see each of us with a spoon (from left to right: Anjali, me, Liz, Holly, Thimo and Al) enjoying its delicate flavours from the tub, which is pictured on the right.

FURTHER INTRODUCTIONS
Aha, allow me to introduce Liz and Al, who I may not have mentioned yet in my writing here. Liz is from the east coast as well, and goes to Bryn Mawr, the same school as Anjali. She has become a fast friend, and we get to see plenty of her - she is one of our adopted J Flatties. Liz is an anthropology major, and is lucky enough to share with me the excitements of physical geography, as we are in this paper together. The gent that needs introducing is Al, Alexander Broadfoot (he has huge feet...), who is from western Wisconsin and goes to school at UW Stout. Coincidentally he is a Legacy Chocolates addict, as the company's main store is across the street from the campus. Al, well, I don't know what exactly Al studies, but I do know that he is a bigtime gardener, an outdoorsman and a huge reggae fan, so we have those things in common. He is a resident of the venerable cave flat - I mean "K" flat - below us.

That is all for now. Good Afternoon.

The Annual Baldwin "Gutbuster"

So, you have heard talk about Baldwin Street now, controversially the Steepest Street in the World. Well, each year, just to show how hardcore they are, kiwis and other folks from all over the world try their strength and endurance in the Annual Balwin GUTBUSTER, a race to the top and back to the bottom of the street.

To quote a blurb at 100% Pure New Zealand:

"Most people would moan about it, but Kiwis - always looking for a challenge - have created an adventure out of it. The Baldwin Street Gutbuster sees around 1000 people each year gather to run or even try to skate up and back down the hill. This on a street in which there are signs warning drivers not to attempt to drive up the street! The Hill City Athletic Club devised the Gutbuster, a race divided into two events. The first run is a race attracting serious runners, and covers 400 metres. Running the downhill part is actually more difficult than running up. The second Gutbuster race is for skaters, skateboarders, pram-pushers or just runners and attracts people from all over the world."

It just so happens that Thimo, Liz, Anjali and I decided to take a bike ride last week to Balwin Street on the very day of the Gutbuster, minutes before it began. Gleaming from our good luck, we found a place to sit and watch the action unfold...The most intimidating competitors were thin and muscular, and probably train for this event every day. Those who did not fit this mold were forced to find other avenues to make them unique and race-worthy.............
The two most special competitors, those who outshone the others entirely, were Old Mister 604 and Super Speight's Boy. At left you see the former passing on advice and encouragement to his young friend, who will carry the torch for many years to come. Old Mister 604 stretched obnoxiously for twenty minutes, breathing heavily in with each relaxing movement, and heavily out with each stretch. He paced back and forth, covering the width of the street and getting in his competitor's faces, while Super Speight's Boy walked silently with a confident smile on his face, his beer company flag of a cape adorned with the messages, "Bye Bye," "See you later!" and "Eat My Dust, Mate." The fact that he finished dead last means nothing. He won in his heart.

Yes, we were all winners that day: only one speedy dude went home with the silver cup, but we all got to enjoy a couple lovely evening hours on the Steepest Street in the World, among "I'm-totally-serious-about-silly-event enthusiasts" from all over the world. Sweet as!

p.s. I would have run, but I wasn't wearing the right shoes...and had jeans on...although there were two people without shoes and one with jeans, so these are empty excuses. One boy I overheard chatting with his neighbor said that he scratched his finger recently, that the wound was healing quite nicely, and that he didn't want to disturb its progress...I guess we all make excuses now and then...okay, good, I got that off my chest.

Oh, Sweetness

The rose garden at the Dunedin Botanical Gardens is currently in full bloom, creating a lovely odour far and wide. At left is just one of the many flowers vying for garden-goers' attention. I have been running through the Gardens a lot lately, and it is also an awesome place to go and read. Once in a while they even have live music! Yahoo.

Bike!

Here is the lovely bike that I purchased last week. It does not have a name yet, as I do not know it well enough yet, but it is a 21 speed mountain bike, and will be getting me around, and then some. Thimo and I rode our bikes to the top of Baldwin Street, the steepest street in the world, and back down again. Back down again was surely the most fun...

Operation: Sandfly Bay

Due to our failure to see yellow-eyed penguins on our earlier peninsula trip, we decided last Saturday to return to Sandfly Bay, in hopes that we could see these birds, the rarest penguins in the world, either coming ashore to nest at dusk, or tromping back to sea come dawn. After being left high and dry by a few gents who said they could drive, we had to decide how we would get to the beach, especially since dusk was soon approaching. It seemed car was out, bus would take a long wait, and walking was suicidal, so hitchhiking (legal here) became the best option. We set to work making signs and went on our way...

Not long after deciding to hitchhike we realized that on a Saturday night at 7:30pm most people would be heading to Dunedin to wine and dine, not out to the peninsula. So, we grabbed a taxi to highcliff road, the highest point on the peninsula, from which point we would walk and/or hitchhike our way to Sandfly Bay. Jim, our taxi driver, had light rock playing in the car, songs that would be stuck in our heads like cancers for the next two days. He told us "good luck" with a smile, and went on his merry way. After climbing to the top of a soldiers memorial nearby and watching the sun set over Dunedin, we decided we didn't want to walk much longer...

We got out our sign for Sandfly Bay, and our best smiles, waves, and thumbs. These did not work on the first passers-by, but the next car stopped almost right away. We exchanged introductions with Martin, and found out that he is one of the only remote souls that lives anywhere close to Sandfly Bay. This is because, as a part of the yellow-eyed penguin nesting ground, the bay and its surrounding areas are part of the Sandfly Bay Wildlife Refuge, which neighbors the Sandymount Wildlife Refuge to the north. Martin's house is snuggly squeezed between the two refuges. The gods were smiling on us. Martin was just returning from a Victorian and Edwardian Festival in a neighboring town, and so we got a mini history lesson on our way to his house. Upon arriving we met his two sheep, Tussock and Thistle, who were much friendlier than all of the sheep we met later on our journey. Martin informed us that it was going to be a cold, windy and rainy night, and offered us a plot on his lawn for our tent, or even a warm bed inside - Oh, the rural kiwi hospitality! Since cozier lodging would not satiate our hunger for adventure, we walked on, and made it to the beach in only 15 minutes (a walk that, without the ride, would have taken us three hours).

As the sun had already set, we knew we would have to see penguins in the morning. We walked along the coast for a while as the waves crashed and the tide slowly rose. We had to find a place to set up our tent - perhaps behind a sand dune? It would have to be an area sheltered from the constant 40mph winds that rush over the beach. Ted brought with him a two-person tent, which we three would get to spoon up in. This would keep us warm, but was a little more intimate than we prefered. Imagine our excitement, then, when we stumbled upon (with Matt's help) a penguin viewing house at the far side of the beach! Four walls, a roof, and a sandy floor would make for a lovely, warm and dry night's sleep. As you can see, we feasted on bread, cheese, apples, and wine to celebrate, and even had a cigar outside while the stars came out. Matt and I chatted for a couple hours after Ted hit the sack, but I should not say that we were alone. Hanging out with us were two opposum-like critters with long, furry tails. They got as close as six feet from us! but we didn't give them anything that would keep them around, and made sure to close our door and windows tight to avoid scavenger buddies in the night.

We woke up at 5:30 in the morning to see if the penguins were yet on the move, and they were not. It was still quite dark. We did not wake up again until 6:30, when a tour guide barged into the viewing house with four Japanese tourists! He was, to say the least, a bit surprised to find us there, told us sleeping there was strictly against the rules (rules which were not posted), and asked us to pack up our things quickly to make room for the five of them. He could not kick us out, however, because it is a public space. He and the tourists nearly managed evicting us, though, as they took up all of the main viewing windows across the front of the house...grrrr. It was cool to hear the wide range of information that the guide had to say about the penguins, so thatr made up for his initial rudeness. Unfortunately the only penguin we saw came out from his nest, stood poking his fur for thirty minutes with his white belly facing the ocean, and then disappeared again into the grasses. This was our pseudo-lame penguin experience - although not as much of a let down for us as for the tourists who paid to see them!

We continued our day by hiking to the top of Sandymount and working our way through the native bush to lover's leap, where we stopped to eat our brunch - a meal of the remaining bread and cheese, a can of garbanzo beans, dried banana chips, an apple and a granola bar. From the cliff where we sat it was a 150 foot drop down to the grassy, rocky, sheep-spotted hills below, hills which then ended by falling down another 50 foot cliff face to the Pacific. Why it is called Lover's Leap, we could only speculate, but we were not suicidally inspired...















upper left: Sandfly Bay from the top of Sandymount
upper right: Sandfly beach from the viewing house
bottom left: The beach from the window in the penguin-viewing house - sea lions were chilling on the rocks at the base of the cliff to the left
bottom right: Me, Matt and Ted, from left to right, eating and looking dapper at Lover's Leap

...We slowly hiked back to the other side of the peninsula from 8:30 to 11:30, seeing many trees growing sideways from the wind, many sheep who were not as friendly as Tussock and Thistle, a lot of noisy birds, and, of course, amazingly picturesque, rolling-green countryside. When we got to Portobello, a larger community on the north coast, we all got ice cream and made a sign for Dunedin to hitch a ride. It was either hitchhiking or waiting for the 1pm city bus. Nobody picked us up, despite our smiles, waves, and hansome good looks. So, we went to the bar next door, got a pitcher of beer to share, got on the bus at 1pm, and all fell asleep. We were just a bit tuckered out! And so, Operation: Sandfly Bay came to a quiet close...a great impromtu adventure, it was - we will just have to catch those penguins next time.

Over and out!

A Week in Review

CLASSES
This week past marked the beginning of classes here, as well as the first meetings of clubs for the year. I am taking three "papers" as they are called here, a very light load compared to what I am used to with four courses, a few jobs and lots of clubs and extra-curriculars. I am enrolled in physical geography, world history and Shakespeare, all of which are fairly dry right now, but we are just getting the ball rolling...

CLUBS
I decided to check out Students for Environmental Action to get into New Zealand environmental issues and meet a few like-minded individuals. It just so happened that the first meeting was a pot luck, so I decided to bring a stuffed marrow. Marrow is the Commonwealth English term for squash, and derives from a comparison of the cooked flesh of a squash to bone marrow. In NZ marrow refers specifically to a really huge zucchini, or courgette. In the image you will notice that the one I purchased from the Otago Farmers Market is longer than my forearm (and as thick as my thigh!). I cut that big guy open, made a savory curried marrow stuffing, cut some decorative holes for a handle and steam release, and ran on over to the Clubs and Societies Building to share it with everyone. It was welcomed as one of the most interesting and aesthetically pleasing dishes of the evening - a review that didn't hurt first impressions...

INTRODUCTIONS
Thimo, at left, and Holly, right, are two of my good friends here. Thimo lives in the lower half of the building I live in, the venerable K Flat. Thimo is from Meunster, Germany and studies literature, philosophy, and theology. Holly lives in A Flat and goes to the University of Southern California in Los Angeles and is a writer extraordinaire and philosophy major. On a rainy Friday evening we find these two sharing a couch. Thimo thinks deeply about the aesthetic qualities of the point where the gold meets the brown in his sweater, while Holly wonders why (and evidently regrets the fact that) there is a pillow in her hood, however convenient it may be.