hostel Archives - Page 2 of 2

February 15, 2019February 15, 2019

Nusa Days

A harbor in Bali is really a beach with a few tents and some small boats moored to the shore. That’s what I found out when I showed up to catch a lift to Nusa Lembongan.

As a brief geography lesson, there are 3 islands to the east of mainland Bali: Lembongan (closest), Ceningan (smallest), and Penida (largest).

After a while of waiting, the cruise over to the island was just 30 minutes. Pulling into Jungut Batu was beautiful. It was a clear day, there was blue, blue water and a cliff with embedded houses overlooking the bay. I boarded a shuttle that took me to my accommodation on the other side of the island. Well, it was really more of a small truck with two benches in the bed, but it did the trick.

The harbor area was much busier with people, shops, and restaurants than where I was staying. The southwest corner of the island was much more desolate and felt spread out. I think there were only 6 other people staying at my place, if that, and I saw them very fleetingly. It felt like I had the whole cottage, pool and restaurant to myself.

Unsurprising news flash: Bali is hot. I went for a walk to find lunch and see some sights. I hit the nearby hotspots of Dream Beach, Devil’s Tear, Mushroom Beach and then Sunset Point to end the evening. On the way to the last stop i met a retired American couple who were long term traveling. They told me about their plans for the upcoming months and clued me into something called The Great Loop which is a sailing journey through the eastern seaboard waters of the US and Canada. They did it over the course of 2017 and had awesome things to say about it. Sounds like a worthwhile future endeavor.

Once the sun dipped beyond the horizon, we parted ways and I returned to my hostel.

Subsequent unsurprising news flash: I’ve sweat through every article of clothing multiple times at this point. Laundry is in dire need.

The next morning I was up at 6:30am to get ready for a snorkeling trip. I grabbed a quick breakfast and hitched a scooter ride to the harbor. This dude comfortably did 40+km/hr while weaving around people with me on the back holding on for dear life. Nice.

There was a group of about 20 people of varying ages and nationalities on board the boat for the snorkel trip. The skipper’s English was limited and he had a no-nonsense attitude but it worked out.

Our first location was Manta Bay off the south coast of Nusa Penida. It’s a popular spot for…you guessed it, manta rays. There were several snorkelers already in the water and the captains of the boats were yelling to each other where the rays were so everybody was encouraged to get in quickly.

I hopped in and immediately saw one about 30ft below. Several people were freediving down to get a closer look. I tried that as well but could only go so deep. I’m not sure if we saw two in total or just the same one in different spots but it was sweet.

The people on my boat re-boarded after just a few minutes in the water so we moved onto our next spot which pretty fast. At Crystal Bay there was some deece soft coral in with relatively vibrant fish activity. It was also quite shallow in areas so I was able to dip down and get a cool perspective right above the reef.

I was the last one back in the boat again as we shipped off to our last destination. This one wasn’t in the shelter of a bay so the current was quite strong. It was another shallow spot though with harder, less colorful coral. There were still some alright fish and shapes but it was a slightly anticlimactic way to end the day.

By the time we were back to land and I grabbed a ride to the hostel, it was only 1pm. With so much of the day still left, I decided to hire a scooter for myself and see areas of the island I hadn’t yet.

I honestly can’t recall if I’ve ever taken a scooter or similar vehicle for a spin. If I have, it’s been ages so it was basically a whole new experience. The controls are simple enough, but balance and road etiquette were the two things I had to get up to speed on. Luckily, there are basically no rules required to drive in Bali so that part was easy. I mean you drive on the left and you honk when you’re overtaking someone or going around a blind corner, but that’s about it.

It took a little bit of getting used to but no major mishaps thankfully. Don’t worry, Mom, I wore a helmet just in case. Pretty sure I stood out like the n00b I was, but since I’m accident prone, I figured it was the safer call.

I drove around the island twice, stopping at Panorama Point, the mangrove forest and Yellow Bridge, which connects Lembongan to Ceningan. Cruising along the southwestern coast offered some pretty killer views of the other two islands while the tide was retracting.

For dinner, I scooted on back to Jungut Batu to meet up with some people from the backpacking Facebook group. We were discussing pooling together to do a day trip around Nusa Penida in the following days so thought it was a good opportunity to meet beforehand. Sarah and Alina, two young, pretty and chipper ladies from Germany, were at a nice cafe next to the beach. We ate and connected quickly over random conversation as dusk transitioned into a proper night sky.

We still had details to sort out, but from a personality standpoint it was a solid match. They went back to their guesthouse and I found a random sports bar to watch the Tottenham game. There were actually a few other fans there and it ended in a solid victory so that was a positive note.

The last act of the day was a late night scooter ride back to my hostel. It wasn’t too eventful which was good. The only thing I had to watch out for were bugs and stray dogs trying to bite my ankles on the way by.

Success. Not a scratch to myself or the motorbike. Mission accomplished. I could get used to this.

In the morning, I got a very generous free ride down to Yellow Bridge where I caught the public boat over to Nusa Penida.

It only took around 15 minutes and I reached my bungalow after a brief taxi ride.

I thought I booked a place with a decent amount of stuff going on around it. I walked around the area to find that wasn’t really the case. There were maybe a handful of restaurants but that was about it.

Thankfully, my place had its own kitchen and offered live music every night. It also seemed like I had a solid room of people. The first person I met was an attractive and kind Dutch gal named Joyce. We shared a few travel stories and upcoming plans with each other. She was getting over Typhoid Fever. Intense! Kind of coincidental because I totally forgot about taking those pills until two weeks prior. Anyhow, i invited her along on the Penida day tour and made the final arrangements in booking a driver and the remaining details.

As happy hour approached, I decided to check out a bar I’d seen recommendations for — Penida Colada. How clever. It was a prime spot on the water and even though it was north facing, we still got a gorgeous hint of colors from the sunset. I was definitely grinning while I finished my 2 for 1 cocktails.

I returned to the hostel and joined a few of my other roommates for dinner and drinks while the band began to play. The basic outfit of singer/guitarist, bassist and box drummer crushed it. The guys voice was smooth as hell. It’s always funny to listen to a non-English speaker sing in a perfect American accent.

My alcohol hiatus obviously came to an end. I may have had one too many Bintangs over the course of the night but it didn’t turn into anything outlandish.

That being said, I woke up early nursing a mild hang. I had to meet our driver and go to the harbor to pick up Joyce, Sarah, Alina and new addition, Maaike, before we got the day underway.

If you’re wondering why we needed a driver, the reason is the condition of the roads. The main part of the island has paved roads, with lane markings even — something I barely even saw on the mainland — outside of that though, as in on the way to the attractions we were visiting, they became a shit show. Steep and rough terrain with some of the most uneven grade and biggest potholes I’ve ever seen. I’m honestly not sure how even the most experience motorbike driver was able to navigate those “roads” but I’m glad I didn’t try it myself. There were many, many stories of daily tourist accidents.

Apart from the lovely scenery of the European ladies I was with, there was also some nature to look at.

We wound our way to Angel’s Billabong, Broken Beach, the Kelingking Cliff viewpoint and Crystal Bay Beach with a stop for lunch thrown in there.

The vastness of these sites doesn’t really come through in photos. Kelingking Cliff (second pic above) was particularly dramatic. I’m not sure exactly how high the lookout was, but the people on the beach below were just specks.

Again, it was a hot ass day. Our last stop gave us an opportunity to cool off with a much needed dip in the water. Totally refreshing.

It ended up being a super chill group and a pleasant day of touring around. Joyce and I dropped the girls off back at the harbor and began a mission of finding a fairly priced boat to take us to Lombok since we were both continuing our travels there soon. Bargaining proved to be difficult. We got stonewalled by two guys that claimed it was a fixed price so we shelved that for the time being.

That wasn’t the only thing to rain on our parade. An actual storm moved in. We waited it out under an awning since the scooter she rented was about to turn up anyway.

In chatting, she told me she was going on a dive the following day and that I should join. Diving was something I strongly considered doing in Asia, partially because it’s supposed to be good but also really cheap comparatively. Her shop was on the way back to our hostel so we stopped in for me to get some more info.

The owner of the shop agreed to accommodate me on such short notice and I was given a little bit of homework to study before returning early the next morning to knock out the introductory skills.

I think Joyce was more excited than I was about it. That’s not to say I wasn’t, but for some reason I just had no expectations at all about the experience. She was already open water certified so she just had a better idea of what was in store for us.

That night we got dinner together and bonded over a talk about personal development and our motivations to travel. This might’ve been the best conversation I’ve had across my entire trip. It felt special to share such a similar perspective with someone who I otherwise wouldn’t have ever met.

In the morning she was nice enough to drop me at the dive center. Jason was the owner and my instructor/guide for the day. In a pool, he walked me through the 4 procedures I had to pass to be able to do the real thing. It only took a few minutes because apparently I knocked it out. I’ve heard it takes a while to get used to breathing through the regulator underwater. At this point with all the snorkeling I’ve done, I feel well-adapted to keeping my head below the surface for hours.

Since that was such a breeze, I basically hung out for an hour to wait for everybody else to arrive. Once it was time, we grabbed all of the necessary equipment and were transported to the boat.

The first dive site was Manta Bay. Familiar territory. This was an awesome opportunity to see manta rays up close and personal.

Me, Jason and Joyce were all paired together, with Jason keeping a close eye on me. The first descent was a slow process. I had a lot of trouble with my ears equalizing. That was the thing I was most focused on for the first dive but didn’t encounter any other issues. It wasn’t necessarily a very scenic site and we were actually unlucky to not see any mantas while we were below the surface.

Eventually, my air supply got to 50 bar and that meant it was time to head back up. Once we got above the water and could talk, Jason said it had been an hour and that was one of the longest dives he’s done in a long time. He was very complimentary of my air consumption and body position. Said that I was super relaxed and communicated well with the hand signals and everything. Excellent to have a knack for such a unique activity.

The only bummer was no mantas. We climbed back into the boat and stripped our tanks off. Jason was actually frustrated by the lack of mantas as well so he said we would stick around for a little bit. There were some other boats there with people snorkeling and that gave us a bead on one. Joyce and I jumped in with just snorkeling gear to go see. Boom. There was a massive one effortlessly gliding through the water. It was deep down again but must’ve been at least as big as my wingspan. We followed it for a little bit and then got back on the vessel.

We cruised over to Crystal Bay, another familiar spot and moored up. Everybody ate a little lunch before getting ready to head in for the second dive. I had a lot of water in my ears so was curious how equalizing would be this time around.

The 3 of us got in and used the anchor line to help us descend. It was an easier time getting down to depth.

I had my GoPro with me, but I didn’t have an underwater case. It’s only operable up to 10m aka 30ft before the water pressure makes the buttons unpressable. I started recording a video before we reached that level but once we got there, it was out of my control. I thought it shut off so I stopped caring about it for a bit. We saw a moray eel in some coral getting its teeth cleaned by a smaller fish. I didn’t even try to capture it. Then we saw a Hawksbill turtle grubbing on something in the coral. I saw a red light flashing on the camera so had Jason take it and really get in there. The GoPro turned itself on photo time lapse mode, which I found out later, but at least it was capturing something. For the rest of the dive I was using it as if it was recording video. I’m happy it continued getting images because some of them are epic (even if I had to sort through 2000+ pics).

This dive was much more memorable. There was substantially better coral and marine life. Plus I had less trouble with the equalization so was able to really have a good look around. It was almost another hour long dive before we were back top side.

I felt good about what we saw while we were still on the boat but I’m even more stoked now looking at the photos. Joyce and I both considered extending our stays on Penida just to dive again in those areas. I’m really interested in doing an open water certification but even though it’s cheaper here, it’s probably too cost prohibitive to my overall trip fund.

Back on land, we had most of the afternoon to decompress and relax. Joyce and I ended up having another awesome talk over dinner, maybe even better than the previous night. Then, we went back to the hostel to pack our things to leave the next morning.

We didn’t have a ton of information, but we were planning to catch a slow ferry to Padang Bai (a port on Bali) and from there another ferry to Lombok. It was the cheapest option but also between 7-9 hours of travel.

Whatever it takes to keep some coin in the travel coffers.

February 11, 2019February 14, 2019

Monkeys, Gongs, and the Sites of Ubud

It’s safe to say i spoiled myself very early on. Spoiled, not soiled. I clarified that in the last post.

The hostel we were staying at in Ubud wasn’t ticking the boxes as nicely as Kosone. It was an ok place and the staff was friendly but it was nowhere near as fresh or swank.

After checking in, myself, Julian and Nanne got lunch at the attached restaurant and brainstormed our plan.

There were many many things to see and do around Ubud. To start with, there was a sacred monkey forest within walking distance so that was first on the list. I’d also read a random article about a sound healing at some pyramids. I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but there happened to be one later that night. Nanne apparently had some hippie tendencies so she was excited. We booked it and then hoofed it.

Monkeys on monkeys on monkeys. As we approached the entrance to the forest, there was one monkey breaking the confines of the jungle. He was out on the street scoping out some goods at the shops. Him and a stray dog started to get fiesty with one another which was free entertainment.

Inside the forest, they were everywhere. They were cute, they were crafty, and they were on the prowl for snacks. I share one of those traits. I, too, like snacks. Anyway, I heard of a guy getting his glasses stolen by a monkey on his first day in Bali. Hilarious. I could see it (no pun). On multiple occasions, I witnessed a little monk climb up someone’s back and start to open their bag. The bastards knew how to operate zippers. I went in prepared with a luggage lock. Suckers. There was a moment where I felt a tug on my backpack, but I think it saw the deterrent and scurried away. You deviant.

It was wild to see them running around and swinging amongst the branches. I mean the place was filthy with em. They came in many sizes, colors and orientations. There were a few families with adorable babies that wrestled on the ground. There were some pals helping each other with their hygiene. And there were also some wiser oldies mean-mugging people as they passed.

We didn’t have all that much time to admire the wee primates because we had to snag a lift over to the Pyramids of Chi for the main event of the evening.

After haggling with a local taxi driver over the price of a ride, we pulled up to the site. Nobody seemed to know about the establishment but when we got there it was quite nice. The owners certainly had money. I was trying to remain spiritually open in anticipation of the ceremony, yet in the back of my mind I was very curious if the whole thing was a clever money grab — taking advantage of all the westerners visiting the zen center of Bali.

There was a group of 25-30 people all together. The order of events was a sacred cacao ceremony followed by the sound healing. It was supposed to be 3 hours of meditation, relaxation and body attunement. I’ve done yoga before, but nothing to this degree.

We were greeted by one of our two leaders. He looked like an actor I’m having trouble placing at the moment. A salt and pepper guy that spoke into the microphone so lowly that we could’ve heard him better without it.

Once the indiscernible briefing was over, we were ushered over to the Pyramid of the Sun. Everyone got a sage cleansing before entering and then took a seat on pillows that formed a circle. We did a lot of breathing, chanting, and saluting directions. We invited spirits in, gave thanks, and drank the sacred cacao — a mixture of chocolate, ginger, cayenne and lemon or something. I know what you’re thinking…no, it was not hallucinogenic. Unfortunately. Shortly after drinking it, we did do an ecstatic dance that had people crying, yipping and flailing to and fro. So maybe it had some sort of fun properties but I don’t think so.

Like I said before, I was doing my best to remain open minded. I did my best to stay in the moment and not worry about the people around me. But, I couldn’t ignore my eyes. I guess these people were just more spiritual than me. Or, at the very minimum, more affected by the ceremony. Maybe practice makes perfect — like sports or whatever. I did bust loose during the dance and let the music control me. I think the majority of the moves were already in my repertoire, but it happened.

After the movement exercise, we were instructed to have unrelenting eye contact with the first person we connected to. It happened to be me and Julian “getting vulnerable” with one another. We then sat knee to knee and touched each others’ hearts for the duration of an entire song. That was another thing that kind of took me out of it. Throughout the entire ceremony, they played some very poignant, well-produced songs expressing the exact sentiment we were focusing on. I kept wondering if they commissioned the songs themselves. There was one really nice one, “I Am the Light.” I’ll search iTunes when I have a moment.

Soon, the doors opened and the group transitioned into the Pyramid of the Moon for the sound healing. We all laid on separate little mattresses in the dim chamber, heads facing the middle. The instructors began to play gongs, chimes, and other instruments of that nature. The vibrations were meant to increase theta waves within the brain, which induces relaxation. This was by far my favorite part of the night. The sensation of the rumbling was definitely calming.

Calming enough that I found myself waking up at the end of the ceremony. It wasn’t just a trance, I was straight passed out. No surprise. This is a common occurrence for me when I get horizontal, especially if it’s dark. I was slightly bummed that I wasn’t present to hear all of the gong sounds and whatnot but it was a solid nap.

Overall, I was happy to take part in something like this. It’s an activity I would usually avoid, but getting out of the comfort zone to experience new things is the point of this whole trip. So “Wadoh” aka “Thanks.”

Following our spiritual field trip to the Pyramids of Chi was a jam-packed day of touring Ubud. We secured a driver for the three of us and hit the road by 9am.

We pulled into the parking lot of our first stop after just a few minutes of driving. It seemed like nothing. A plain parking lot in front of some hedges. It appeared that we would be growing into the day.

We were escorted through a gap in the hedges and down a pathway that opened itself up into a stunning scene of lush rice terrances that were exquisitely manicured.

What an exotic place. Not only was it a pristine piece of nature you could wander through, it was also a mini amusement park. There was a zipline and several different swings. The Bali swing is an iconic tourist activity, so Julian and I opted for the “Super Extreme” version (the highest you could do). This wasn’t the site of the original swing, but I’d argue it has some of, if not the best views. We saw several other swings throughout the day that paled in comparison.

That being said, it wasn’t all that exhilarating a ride. I mean, I’m not really a fan of heights and I wasn’t getting much of a thrill from it. We got 15 swings and the guys did their best to propel the swing as high as they could. The upside was the scenery for sure.

Julian and I tackled the swing and then continued to explore the grounds. Nanne kept watching the swing because she was on the fence about doing it.

Placed at various intervals were all of these wooden nests and shapes that you could climb in to take pictures. They were pretty nifty. I’m sure Instagram is overrun with these type of images. Don’t get me wrong, we did knock out a quick photoshoot, but I’ve met a few travelers that would still be there snapping pics.

The next stop on our trip was the Tellalang Rice Terraces. These might be the most well known terraces in Bali. I’m not really sure but that sounds good. They were only a short way down the road from where we were. Although not as lush as our previous setting, it was still quite awesome to see how sprawling they were. It was a feat to climb up and down all of the steps to have a look around. If I was a rice farmer I would be fit as hell.

Once we finished exploring and got back to the top, we were onto Tirta Empul, which is a holy water temple. This was more of the cultural experience I expected to get at every temple. Sarongs were a requirement to cover up certain parts of the body. At this temple specifically, you could enter the petirtaan (bathing structure) to perform a purification ritual by showering in the holy water. There was a certain procedure for this that we did our best to follow. We had to get a separate sarong for the water, store our items, and supply a sacrifice before making a prayer, cleansing and then rinsing in the holy spring.

It’s an interesting experience to dissect. Being afforded the opportunity to participate in the ritual at a real temple is very generous. Though it seemed like a lot of tourists were blasting through the process and skipping over some of the religious traditions. I think it’s a general lack of respect combined with the way the Balinese culture is on sale. There’s no real information on how to do it or what is customary. You pay a hefty entrance fee, which is fair enough, but then you have extra fees for the water sarong and the locker. Then you have local guides offering their services of explanation at an additional cost. It’s difficult not to feel nickel and dimed. I think that’s where you get a large contingency of people rushing into the water just to say they were bathed in holy water without recognizing the proper procedure of the ritual. We paused to observe the order of operations and the fountains that were reserved for funerals and cremations. I’m still not sure if we did it 100% correctly, but we can at least say we did our best. I feel like the practice would be respected so much more if they made the information more readily available. It would benefit everyone.

On the way out of the temple, we were shepherded through all of the vendors. This was one of the most stressful situations. In addition to the usual verbal requests to look at a shop, there were certain ladies that pulled us forcefully into their stall. “One dolla, one dolla!” Julian and I could have escaped relatively unscathed but Nanne kept slowing down and engaging the vendors. I guess she was vaguely in the market for some souvenirs. Problematic. She repeatedly said she was frustrated by all of the haggling but she kept going into shops and looking around. This was a common theme throughout the day that Julian and I laughed about.

By the time we made it back to our driver, we had worked up an appetite so we stopped for lunch around the corner. That was another thing that was kind of crazy. We were paying this guy a pretty decent amount of money and all he had to do was drive us 5 minutes to the next destination and then wait an hour for us to come back out. Pretty cush job if you can get it.

Julian and I had a beer at lunch. I mention this only to say that was the last beer I’ve had. It’s been a week, you guys. What’s going on?

From there, we went to the site of another temple, Goa Gajah. Before we could get out of the car, we were pounced on by some other vendors. We did decide to invest in sarongs since they were necessary at most temples. Still, the aggressive tactic of the sellers was a tad frustrating. What’s funny is that when we reached the entrance of Goa Gajah, we were deterred by the entrance fee so we didn’t even go in. Wore the sarong like a boss anyway.

The final stop of the day was a waterfall called Tegenungan. It was a popular destination for everybody else in the Ubud area as well. Kind of trappy. Again, we had to fork over some cash to look at it. A temple I can understand but an admission fee for nature seemed a little unnecessary. It was a tolerable amount, so Julian and I coughed it up while Nanne went on a mission to find food (she was a picky eater and didn’t have anything at lunch).

What to say about the waterfall…it was deece? It takes a really powerful, tall or shapely waterfall to stand out to me these days. This one was an okay height and you could swim in the pool, but beyond that it was nothing to write home about (whatever that says about these words).

We walked around for a little bit before returning to the car. On the way back to the hostel Nanne decided she was going back to Canggu so she sorted out a ride with our driver.

It was a pretty eventful day. We climbed a lot of steps, did some bargaining, completed a holy ritual, baked in the sun and saw a lot without really traveling all that far. It was also a pretty expensive day. The common refrain is that South East Asia is super cheap. That’s not untrue. Individual things don’t cost a lot. But you pay for everything and it adds up quickly. On the whole, it’s still better than a New Zealand or Australia, but I was expecting even cheaper based on what people said. Maybe it was because I’m so frugal and I’d already lowered my internal budget, or maybe it was because the 3 extra zeroes on the end of every price inflated the amount in my brain. We’ll see what my average daily spend is at the end of my time and compare.

Regardless, you have to expect to pay some money when you’re on an adventure. I expanded my horizons and that is a priceless endeavor. There we go. A platitude that only makes me vomit in my throat a little bit. It is a better mindset though.

February 6, 2019February 6, 2019

Paradise Found

It was an unremarkably overcast day when I arrived in Canggu.

It was only a few miles from Seminyak, but it had a much more relaxed vibe. The streets weren’t overcrowded with people and vendors. There was no cacophony of horns and “In here, boss!” demands.

The car pulled down a narrow alley and came to a stop at the end. There was a building there, but the location and surroundings seemed to conflict with what I thought I booked. I got out and hauled my bags to reception. As I was being escorted up to my room, I realized I’d made it to paradise.

This place was beautiful. It had only been open for 2 months, so it was relatively unspoiled. The facilities were all immaculate and the pool set up was perfect.

I was initially planning to go on a long walk to watch the sunset at a seaside temple. The gray sky and the swim up bar quickly changed my mind. It was an easy choice, especially since Happy Hour was 2 for 1 cocktails. Cheers.

I started chatting with two Aussie chicks who were on holiday. We crushed 12 cocktails between us. My bill was like $20.

Paradise.

After HH I took a stroll down to the beach and admired all of the bar set ups. There were some simple ones with rows of cushy seats and others with more elaborate, infinity pool spaces.

I worked my way back toward the hostel and went for a tasty dinner at an empty restaurant with rice field views before calling it a night.

The next day I was determined to get a new hat and tank top to help alleviate the heat and my laziness for morning preparation. Before setting out on this venture, I got a free delicious breakfast at the hip restaurant attached to the hostel. The smoothie bowl I ordered hugged my eyes and palate in its appearance and yumminess. It was also healthy, so it was a win/win/win.

Feeling good about life as a whole, I headed over to a cool Bazaar to get my shop on.

Bazaar

In hindsight, I should’ve waited a few more days until I had a stronger grasp on the currency. The thousands thing. Plus, I’m a people pleaser so negotiating really isn’t my strong suit.

I walked out of there with two hats, two tanks, and a dirty feeling. I talked the guy down by almost a million, but he started at almost 2 million. I’d like to say I’ll be better moving forward, but only time will tell. It’s difficult to be a hard ass to a stranger. Then again, if their goal is to take advantage of you…Something to think about.

Anyway, I returned to Kosone and decided to conduct the rest of my affairs by the pool. It was a beautiful day and it was worth enjoying.

I talked with a gorgeous woman, originally from Madagascar, who was living in Canggu and running a cafe. She was also drinking coconut water out of a coconut. Appropriate.

It was impossible to drag myself away from this place. I decided to extend my stay for another night because it was too good. How could you not?

For the latter part of the afternoon, I lounged with my roommates, Julian (20yr old, Holland) and Scott (30yr old, Australia). Happy Hour came around, so, you know, that happened again. I was thinking this was the ideal Groundhog Day cycle.

As HH finished at the pool, myself, Scott and a Canadian chick hopped on a scooter — yes, 3 grown adults on a scooter — and made it to a beachside bar before their deal time was over. Scott said that the party scene in the area was pretty heavy. Our night was careening that direction as we migrated to another bar with a view and quickly caught the sunset.

Thankfully, a stop for dinner slowed the momentum and we decided to take a few beers back to the hostel. It was a blitz of an evening, but a chill night to balance that craziness. Very easy to see how I could get fat and hammered for the duration of my time in Bali.

The events of the following day helped to curb that possibility.

I started with another great breakfast (still included in the price of my room). I was determined to make the walk to the seaside temple since I hadn’t accomplished that yet.

It was a 2.5 hour trek, which meant some decent exercise. Two deterring factors were the heat and the lack of sidewalks. But, my mind was made up.

I embarked with 1.5 liters of water and a few podcasts lined up. I’m pretty sure I was covered in sweat within the first 3 minutes. I persevered while perspiring.

Thirty minutes in and I was like damn. It. Is. HOT.

There wasn’t much shade along the road unfortunately. The breathability of a tank top could only do so much. I stopped to reapply my sunscreen and looked at my map. Still an hour to go.

The directions took me down an interesting path in the middle of some lush, green fields. There was a well-paved road that seemed ne’er traversed. It was a strange yet beautiful scene.

By the time I got to Tanah Lot, it felt like I’d been walking for days. I can only imagine how people in the actual desert feel.

Upon entering the temple, pretty much all I saw was tourists. The place was overrun. To top it off, it was high tide so I could only see the main attraction from afar. It looked nice, but dodging people at every turn was a bit of a chore.

I explored some of the more empty areas and stumbled on a Luwak Coffee cafe with civet and all. I guess that’s one of the most expensive types of coffee in the world since the beans are digested by the cat/otter mix of an animal. The poor guy was as hot as I was, sitting there panting and pacing.

Afternoon was turning into evening and I was beginning to feel the effects of the heat. I also inadvertently skipped lunch which was unwise. I b-lined it for a convenient store on the way back toward the hostel. In an effort to keep sun stroke at bay, I got some more water and a snack in the AC. I also decided to get a ride back so I didn’t randomly fall out on the street.

A much needed plunge in the pool welcomed me back to Kosone.

Julian and I made plans to travel together to Ubud in the morning, so we knocked out some reservations and then started talking about dinner plans. I went to the front desk and asked the cute receptionist for recommendations.

We had some good options to choose from and the consensus was pizza. With another one of our roommates, we walked over to the spot. I was hungry enough to down a large NY-style pie without any trouble. I settled for wood fired pepperoni and a single light beer.

Right after finishing my food, I started to feel unwell. “Bali Belly” is a thing that affects many tourists, but I thought it was primarily about unsafe water consumption and I’d been careful about that. My fingers were crossed that it was just my body climbing up that replenishment hill for a little bit.

Nope.

I vomited immediately when I got back to my room. Unpleasant. Does this mean I can no longer trust the recommendations of cute receptionists? The other guys were totally fine, so I’m going to say no. That would be depressing anyway. Don’t eat anymore pizza in Bali? That’s also quite sad, but probably a reality for the near future.

It was a rough night of various pain and little sleep, but it didn’t manifest into full blown pinwheeling or anything. Phew. It must’ve been my body feeling depleted.

I was far from 100% in the morning so it was difficult to leave paradise. Before the ride to Ubud, Julian and I picked up another traveler in Nanne (27yr old, Finland). It was the making of an inseparable trio for the next two days.

February 4, 2019February 4, 2019

Balinese Introduction

Touch down in Asia. IndonAsia. Indonesia. Bali.

“Om Swastiastu.”

I was trying to learn popular phrases on the plane. Totally lost on pronunciation though.

We were a bit late arriving and it was 11pm before I was done with customs. I learned my lesson from New Zealand and pre-arranged a shuttle to my accommodation. It seemed like a particularly smart call at this hour until I walked out toward the pick up area and was immediately overwhelmed.

There were at least 50 drivers holding signs with names on them. Ooof. A needle in a hay stack.

I walked the line like a lost puppy a few times without seeing my name. Maybe my guy didn’t show or waited forever and thought I wasn’t coming? It was back to doing it on the fly. I made my way toward the exit. When I turned a corner, I saw another 100 drivers smushed together waving more signs.

Round 2.

After another bit of looking I found a guy with “Nathan.” Phew. I went up to him and he was taken aback. Ok. Turns out there are other Nathans out there. The search continued…

I pushed past 30 people trying to get me to take their overpriced taxi before I finally found my driver. We had to push back through everyone to get outside.

Things were so much different than anything I’ve ever experienced. The new country elements: people, architecture, sounds and smells.

On the ride to my hostel, I was even surprised by the streets, which seemed more like alleys. They were narrow and unassuming. With sharp curves, my driver was honking before going around the bends to let possible oncoming traffic know he was there.

I saw countless motorbikes manned by helmetless drivers. They were zooming everywhere, seemingly without a lane assignment, easily able to avoid the plethora of stray dogs obliviously meandering in the middle of the road. Traffic patterns on the whole were interesting to observe. I think we only had one stoplight the entire drive. Zero stop signs. Every intersection was a clustercuss that somehow got sorted without the need of signals or an obvious system.

When we arrived at the hostel, I was still processing. I missed the sign asking me to remove my shoes before entering but did so quickly. It was a cozy spot tucked back off the main drag. There was a lot of bamboo. Wood and white.

During the check-in process, I got to deal with the currency for the first time, the Indonesian Rupiah, which is based in thousands. So a normal price for a large bottle of water is 10.000rp (72¢). I briefly thought about the fact that I was a billionaire here. Status.

I was shown up to my room, a relatively sterile 8-bed dorm. One thing that stood out immediately was the intense smell of mothballs. At least I wasn’t going to be swarmed by spiders in the night.

My bed was nice though. It had a lot of space, a privacy curtain, and a light + power outlet which is always clutch. I settled in for the night and figured I would wake up early the next morning to figure out my next move.

I woke up to gamelan playing — traditional Indonesian music featuring various percussive instruments. It was a pretty calming way to greet the day. I went downstairs for breakfast and did a bit of planning.

I was in Kuta, somewhat close to the airport, which I’d heard was just a busy place. Seminyak was on a few lists I’d researched and not too far away so I set my sights there. I made another hostel reservation and then was looking at transportation.

They don’t really have public transportation options here. Different. The most popular way to get around is to rent a scooter, which I was not feeling confident about after the initial ride in. I could also get a taxi or motorbike lift. Another option was Grab, an Uber equivalent.

I didn’t want to be exploited by a local this early in my trip, so I decided Grab was my best bet. A 20 minute ride ended up being around $2.86. Pretty killer. I learned later that it’s so cheap because they don’t have to pay any local taxes. However, they’re only allowed to operate in certain areas on the island. The Balinesian drivers are up in arms about it since they have allocate 30% of their fares to the government and helping the local village.

In any case, I got to Seminyak well before lunch and wanted to get out and have a look around the place. I also needed to pick up a new SIM at some point.I set my bags down and hit the street.

Warrior Shrine
Temple Door #1
Fem Shrine #2

There was a market next door that I perused for like an hour because I was so fascinated by the products and prices. I was still trying to wrap my head around the value of the currency. I revisited each aisle about 3 separate times. The employees were probably questioning my sanity.

I was too. Always am.

Eventually I escaped the curiosity of barbecue steak-flavored Cheetos and walked the streets. The first thing I noticed was all of these little intricate incense trays on the ground in front of stores and scattered around shrines. There were hundreds and the contents of each one was unique. I saw some with cigarettes, others with candies or shots of juice.

Canang sari is a daily offering to the Hindu gods that represents praise and prayer. It’s quite incredible how each household and shop owner obsessively prepare their little masterpiece each day. This is special to Bali too, as the majority of Indonesia is Muslim, not Hindu.

So after a few hours of wandering around, I was beginning to pick up the vibe. You could not walk by a single person without being offered a scooter rental or to have a look in their store. A couple I spoke to on the plane told me I would be sick of horns within a day. I certainly heard my fair share, whether it was actual traffic usage or trying to get me into their taxi. I appreciated it as part of the overall soundscape (in that moment at least).

The streets were lined with various fashion and furniture stores as well as restaurants and cafes. This is Seminyak’s main claim to fame I suppose. For a tourist on a normal holiday with room in their bag and a job to return to, they could acquire a lot for a little from these vendors.

I inquired at a few stalls about a SIM but it took a while to find a solid option. Once that was all done I went back to the hostel to check in and get situated.

After I got set up in my cubby bed, I went down to the beach to see what was up. Walking out on the sand was an interesting experience because there was so much trash everywhere. Double Six was the popular spot, but it seemed a bit unremarkable, especially with the huge piles of debris and rubbish.

I decided to go back to the city and find some food and a happy hour special. I got two beers, some tasty dumplings and a good portion of fried rice for under $10. I was starting to get a giddy feeling about the money saving options in Bali. I ended the night on that positive note.

The next day there was more exploring on the docket. I was expanding my search and scouting out some solid sunset watching spots.

I ended up on a different beach and followed it north toward the bigger places in the distance. It was cleaner in the morning which was nice. A mile or two down the way I peeled back inland and walked around the outside of a temple. It looked nice but I was a bit intimidated to go inside because I wasn’t fully up on the customs.

Instead, I worked my way over to the sprawling campus of the W hotel to see what that was all about. I had to go through a security check just to get on the grounds. I felt like I was secretly trespassing into rich people territory.

When I got inside, I was impressed. Surprise, surprise. The place was massive and super nice. There were several levels of comfy seating areas and like 3 different restaurants/cafes within 30ft of each other. The pool set up was really the star attraction though. There were lounge chairs following every contour and well-placed palm trees adding that tropical flair.

I got a smoothie with a W-branded cup and was hoping that would be enough to make it look like I fit in. Within a minute of sitting down on one of the lounge chairs I was asked for my room number. That area was only for hotel guests. Damn.

The good news was only a few feet away was a poolside bar that I could sit at and still get swimming privileges. Bonus. I ordered a bucket of beers and posted up on a couch for the day.

I had a beer, got some sun, took a dip, had a beer, napped, had a beer and chilled hard. I think that was the closest I’ve ever been to living in the lap of luxury. I still felt like barbecue steak Cheetos in a caviar tin, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying it.

By the time I finished my last beer, the sun was getting ready to set and this was the perfect spot to watch. People were showing up in droves, so it actually paid off that I stumbled in early and stuck around. There wasn’t a single seat left anymore.

As sunsets go in Bali, it was kind of mediocre colors-wise, but the atmosphere made it exceptional. My afternoon playing someone with real money was a smashing success.

Status.

January 4, 2019January 4, 2019

Sydney Pt. 1

Sydney is not the capitol of Australia FYI. From what I heard, the rivalry between Melbourne and Sydney led to a compromise which saw Canberra receive the honors. I thought that was an interesting tidbit.

My bus had a quick pit stop in Canberra on the way to Sydney but I can’t say I saw much of it.

We arrived in Sydney around 930pm. The Central Station stop was right across the street from my hostel. Clutch. Sydney’s CBD was much more spread out than Melbourne’s but being by this hub was perfect.

I checked into my hostel, Wake Up!, and had a look around. It was a relatively new place with modern amenities. It had good reviews and reflected that in the cost.

I was in an 8-bed dorm. The first night I was woken up to a guy pissing on the floor at 6am. The last time I experienced something like that was in college. Bros. Ugh. My bag was so close to the danger area too. The dude checked out in a cloud of shame the next morning. Or he was just moving on anyway, but I’ll pretend.

A big benefit was that the hostel offered a free walking tour so I hopped on that. It was a big group and the tour took around 4 hours. I enjoyed the walking aspect and the places we stopped, but it was less informative than I thought it would be. Either way, it was a good intro to the city.

It was Friday and the adjoining bar was offering free drinks to hostel guests, so I capitalized on that. It seemed like watered down Goon (Australia’s Franzia). In any event, there was a limited amount so bottoms went up.

That led to a few hours of dancing. There was a DJ that played live saxophone along with a few songs. I hadn’t experienced that before. It made the set marginally more interesting.

The next morning there was another group walk to the Glebe Markets. At first I was underwhelmed by the amount of thrift clothing tents but then I found my jam. It was a guy making one-of-a-kind items from up-cycled materials. There were some fresh hats. Two for $50 which really wasn’t bad but I didn’t neeeeeeeed it. I did a few more laps around the market to see if it continued calling to me. I popped my head in a few more times but couldn’t pull the trigger.

I still want one.

I never got a card and don’t know what the shop was even called. Amateur hour. I did overhear the guy saying he was working on getting his website and Instagram accounts up and running. Damn. I may never find them again.

Regardless, I had somewhere to be that afternoon anyway. There was a pool party going down in Bondi. I was connected to this sitch through a friend of a friend (thanks, Makaye!). Stephany used to live in Richmond but has resided in Sydney for the last 2 years. She’d been advising me on cool shit to do and also invited me to hang out with her and her friends. One of whom, Maria, was in town from the US and formally lived in Richmond as well.

Pool. Party.

I was mad excited to chill at a pool with a group of people my age who were residents of the place. There was a BBQ, there was beer, there was sun and everybody was really nice to talk to. It was also an informal congratulatory party for Jules and Denise getting engaged.

I later ended up going back to their place to borrow some clothes from Jules to go out. He also took me on an impromptu tasting of some whiskeys and piscos. Incredibly fun and passionate people.

We rejoined the rest of the crew at a hoity-toity cocktail bar called Mrs. Sippy’s. Everybody there was paying someone to bleach their teeth and their assholes. Separate people, probably.

It wasn’t really that bad. But it kinda was. Also, the only piece of my outfit that belonged to me was my underwear. I’d like to think that played no part in my assessment of this bar.

Eventually, we moved to the Coogee Bay Hotel & Bar. As an aside, “hotels” are largely just bars. I don’t think they let drunk patrons sleep there, or anyone for that matter. I don’t know. Maybe they were all hotels during the Gold Rush but then converted to restaurant/bars at a certain point.

Either way, this place was massive. It had several bars, a live band with a dance floor, and a grill with some delicious looking sausages.

There was a moment where two of Stephany’s friends dragged me on the dance floor and told me that I had to enjoy this song because it was the most Australian song ever written. I have no idea what that song was. I recall it being relatively dad-rocky, but have no clue beyond that.

Around 3am, I decided it was time to head back. I got a bus card and rode that puppy home.

The following day was a Santa-themed pub crawl around Manly Beach. I caught the ferry out of the city in the early afternoon. On Sundays, it only costs $2.50 for unlimited public transportation which was sick. Nice to get that perspective of Sydney for so cheap.

Myself, Stephany, Maria and Marta lounged in the sand for a bit before donning our Santa gear. The girls all looked great and I looked ridiculous (on purpose). I was wearing a scandalous apron. Notice the strategically placed mistletoe.

The crawl began. Apparently it had been off to the races for a while. At the first bar we went to, which seemed completely chill, a chick vomited through her hand onto the floor. It was 2:15pm at best. Giddyup. The second place had music blasting and a saucy dance party happening insane. The line outside, however, which we were in, came to a stand still right when it was getting good (video doesn’t do it justice).

We went to another hotel (bar) and chilled on the balcony for a few beers and snacks before catching the ferry back to downtown. Stephany took Maria and I to a semi-classy rooftop spot with a solid view of the Opera House.

In case you were wondering, I was still wearing the apron. Two people were kind enough to mime some extremely sexual actions while I ordered my drink. It was an experience.

We ended the night by watching a holiday light show displayed on St. Mary’s Cathedral. It was a story for children about making friends or something. The voice actor had to do some weird singing and “meowing.” Nonetheless, a solid cap to the evening.

The following day I wandered around the city some more. I retraced a few of the walking tour steps to spend more time at a few places and checked out some carnivorous plants. Then I met up with Stephany and Maria to head to the fish market. It was almost closed, but we were able to snag a sushi donut for $10, which I’m told is a steal. I wasn’t familiar with the concept before. To clarify, it’s various types of sushi in the shape of a donut. There is no actual dough. The construction and taste were quite fantastic. I’d highly recommend if you’re ever in the area.

ANZAC Memorial
The Calyx #2
Sydney Fish Market

Next, we took a train over to Newtown, an artsy suburb, to walk around. That meant finding a brewery and getting a flight. I was in my element. The beer was aight. We went to yet another hotel and I got a local Strong Ale. Again, deece/sub-deece.

We made a plan to venture out to Blue Mountains in the morning, so we went back to our corners to rest up.

It was an early morning rendezvous at Central Station to catch a train to Katoomba. We had visions of doing a 3 hour trek around the Three Sisters before doing a 3 hour canyon walk. The guy at the information desk essentially laughed at us because there just wasn’t enough time in the day to complete it all.

Instead, we hit the lookout and also walked down to touch the Three Sisters. Then we went on some crazy track down the Furber Steps. Aptly named because there were so many steps.

Along the way, we heard a sonar-like ding, echolocation noise happening that was really bizarre. Turned out to be Bell Miners (birds), even though we couldn’t see them.

At a junction on the trail, we came to one of the strangest signs I’ve ever seen. There were two options that would both take 45 minutes — one was “medium” and the other “moderate.”

Very curious if there will be a clear consensus on this question.

Anyway, we chose the moderate path and continued on. I was leading the group and we walked through a section that was very much in the bush. I kept thinking that I was going to either get webbed and bitten by a spider or step on a snake. Thankfully none of those things occurred. We found a cozy picnic table under a canopy and had lunch before furiously climbing a shit ton of steps.

In the town of Leura, we had a victory drink and then boarded a train back to Sydney.

As Stephany napped, Maria and I had a solid conversation about spirituality, death and legacy.

I’m abusing polls now for some reason.

I walked back to my hostel as they caught their connecting train back to Steph’s flat. It was nice to do a decent walk in Australia. I’d been missing that since leaving New Zealand.

December 16, 2018December 16, 2018

Zack & Hannah’s Visit Pt. 1

I waited at the rental car counter for an hour. I was anxious because I had to drive back to the city to get my bags and then back out to the airport to scoop my people. They were already delayed a few hours so I couldn’t be late.

I was told the car was ready over the phone so didn’t expect such a long wait. Should’ve known. It seemed like the place only hired 12 year old blonde girls. I don’t necessarily have a problem with that as long as there’s enough on staff to see to the high volume of customers.

I got it, got my bags and got Zack and Hannah from the airport. Then we were off.

Our itinerary was pretty well planned out. At least our evening destinations were all booked, as well as a few excursions.

Day 1 – Driving to Twizel

It was about a 4hr drive from Christchurch to Twizel (‘i’ as a ‘y’ sound).

The best part was coming over a hill to see Lake Tekapo with Mt. Cook and a few others in the background.

We found a scenic lookout to pull over and snap some photos.

“It’s gonna be a gudday, mate.”
-Zack McDowell

And it was. We picked up some groceries for dinner and the next few days.

We were staying at an AirBnB that turned out to be epic. It was set up to be a ski lodge for a large group. Seemed a bit wasted on the 3 of us but no matter. We made a nice dinner and took advantage of the fire place and comfy sofas. Funny to think that we were probably knocking out our nicest accommodation on the first night. Oh well.

Z&H stayed up late enough for us to enjoy the digs (and hopefully avoid any major jet lag).

Day 2 – Our First Hike and the Drive to Wanaka

I left my shampoo behind. End of the highlights. (Wordplay)

Nah. We made a decent breakfast and packed up.

It was a 45 minute lakeside drive out to Mt. Cook. We were doing the Hooker Valley Track, which was an easy 3hr walk. I had found it on a top 10 list of things to do on the South Island. Boom. Poles and rain jackets were at the ready.

It was another well-kept track, but definitely the most crowded I’d walked in NZ.

Mt. Cook was used as Mordor in Lord of the Rings and you could definitely see it. It was a gloomy day and the damp greenery combined with murky water made for a dramatic setting.

Hooker Lake
Mt. Cook
Swing Bridge

Even with the heavy dose of picture breaks, we made it back to the car in 3 hours. We gobbled down lunch and hit the road again. Off to Wanaka.

We had some good car conversation before Zack and Hannah dozed off. This would become a recurring theme. I will acquire photos.

The thing about New Zealand is, there are some stretches of road without a service station for a while. I knew this and had already had a low fuel scare so I was looking to play it safe.

Shortly into our drive we passed a small town and a sign that had distances for a mountain pass and the next two townships we’d be passing. No problem. There’s gotta be another small place with fuel before the climb up the pass.

Spoilers: There wasn’t.

After we’d gone about 30km and most of the way up Lindis Pass, the fuel light came on.

Not again, you dummy. Playing it safe usually means being overly cautious. So by ‘safe,’ I meant living on the edge.

I waited a bit for the other two to wake up. I didn’t want to worry them, but at some point I’d have to come clean.

We were all holding our breath. I coasted down the mountain so hard. I was acting like the gas pedal didn’t exist. Camper vans and trucks were whizzing past us.

We got down the mountain and kept hoping the next town would be around every corner.

Spoilers: It wasn’t.

There weren’t even signs updating us on how much farther we had to go. I was sure we’d be sputtering to a halt and flagging someone down any minute. The math in my head was telling me we’d gone almost 80km to whatever town was on the last sign.

Finally, we saw a community center. Where there’s enough civilization to warrant a community center, surely there must also be petrol. Shortly up the road we got to the country store that had it. Insane! No doubt we were rolling up on fumes.

Of course we had to go through the whole rigmarole of the payment station not accepting our cards. The clerk was closing up shop but allowed us to use her card in exchange for cash. I still don’t know why foreign cards don’t work at those things.

Either way, the important part is that we got our desperation gas and were able to carry on relatively unscathed.

By the time we got to Wanaka it was raining pretty heavily. Conditions made the tree in the lake a bit less picturesque, unfortunately.

After a brief stop to see it, we went to settle in and clean up at our respective hostels.

We had enough time to get to Rhyme & Reason Brewery before they closed. Zack enjoyed a tasting tray and ended up buying a bottle. Then we had to solve the age old dilemma of where to eat dinner. We ended up picking The Federal Diner, which was hidden down an alley way but likely the best meal we had the whole trip. Spirits were high. It was a good night and we were ready for the next adventure.

Rhyme & Reason Brewery
The Federal Diner

I was on the way back to my hostel when I got a message from Ellen, the Swedish lass I met up with back in Picton. She was also in Wanaka and looking for something to do.

I joined her for a walk around the town, which was silent. After chatting for a while, I invited her to join us on our activities the following day and through to Queenstown. She was interested and said she’d let me know.

Before bed, I got a message saying she was in.

Day 3 – Diamond Lake, Free Wine and onto Queenstown

We convened for breakfast in the morning. I quickly learned how important coffee is to Zack and Hannah’s daily routine. They got the goods.

Next, we went to the i-Site to sort out which walk we were going to do. There were so many in the area that it was difficult to decide.

Once we had our plan of attack we picked up Ellen. The track was just a short drive out of town so getting there was quick. We got a good start and the walk was awesome.

Another 3 hour track – Diamond Lake to Rocky Mountain Summit. There was a little bit of a climb but nothing too serious. There were several viewpoints looking back toward Wanaka over the lake and land. Rather spectacular for how little we worked for it.

Behold Wanaka
A Man & His View
Tools of Ascension
Contemplative Hannah

On our way out, we stopped at Rippon Vineyards. It was supposed to have good wine and awesome views, which it did. They were setting up for a wedding though. The venue price for this place must’ve been a pretty penny. I mean, seriously. The tasting room was still open, however, and the wine tasting was free/donation-based…toight.

Pinot Noir is the main grape grown in the Otago region. That worked because in the rare event that I’m drinking wine over beer, I do prefer reds. They did have this one that was a rare white grape that barely anybody in the world produces – Osteiner, I think. The bartender said that it was cheap but it might’ve been my favorite. No surprise with my simple palate.

After taking in the wine and the views, we ate lunch on the grounds. We literally sat on the ground and made sandwiches. Then we drove through to Queenstown.

Zack was geeking out on the approach. To be fair, driving through Frankton is extremely pretty with the way the houses are stacked up onto Lake Wakatipu.

We dropped Ellen off at her hostel and checked into ours. It was nice getting there in the late afternoon so we had some time to wander around.

I’d been around Queenstown enough during my previous visit to act as a de facto tour guide.

We got some delicious tacos and ate them on a floating boat bar. Zack geeked out again — I believe saying it was the coolest thing he’s ever done? Don’t get me wrong, Perky’s is moored right on the water in the middle of the city. The views were pretty exceptional. But, the fact that the boat had a bathroom on board took it over the top for Zack.

We were getting into a really good pocket of conversation when two young, insanely drunk local dudes came up and forced themselves onto our table.

One of them was somehow Brazilian, Japanese and Kiwi…with purple hair. We weren’t really sure how to parse that all out but he did a lot of talking and clearly had the whole world figured out. Told us some tale of his friend getting stabbed with a screwdriver.

The other guy was incoherent, from Punjab and dropped my camera.

It was an agonizing and endless waiting game for them to finish their drinks and move on. Somehow, we all endured and told them we were heading back to our rooms.

I checked my camera and noticed the viewfinder was no longer focusing. That really capped off the encounter. I later found out there was a diode I could adjust to dial it back in to be usable.

In the moment though, we were all bitter. That ignited a spark to go for another beverage.

We met up with Ellen at a western-themed bar called Cowboys, mainly because they had tabletop shuffleboard.

That dumbass experience was still in the back of my mind, plus karaoke was happening which was grating. Although the guys were killing it, honestly. One dude did like a 3-song set of 90s rap — “No Diggity” being the highlight.

We crushed some games and beers and moved onto another bar that I knew had cheap drinks. It just so happened that the terribles were also there. Thankfully they were too drunk to notice us so we skated by and had a few more beverages.

To end the night, we got Fergburger. It’s a Queenstown institution that usually has an insane line all the time. We got there and felt it was destiny because there wasn’t one. I heard a local walk past and say “Never seen that before,” in her amazing accent.

It’s tough to conclude whether the burgers are amazing or not under the circumstances. Regardless, it hit the spot and was a good way to conclude the evening.

The next day we had a summit to tackle. Depending.

November 2, 2018

Welly is Swelly

A long bus ride from Taupo.
An even longer walk from the depot to the hostel.

I hadn’t had a proper meal and was feeling destroyed from a brutal mountain biking session earlier that day.

When I walked into the backpackers, I think exhaustion was written all over my face. The receptionist was the nicest person and helped me take a bag up to my room.

Last bed in my room and basically no room on the floor for any bags. At any other place, that would’ve been an ominous sign, but this place was different.

The Marion is an incredible hostel. It’s only been open for five months so the secret is only half out. The place had a modern design, lounges on every floor, a rooftop hangout area, rain shower faucets as well as curtains and outlets for every bed.

Amazing place for a hostel price point in a great location. Solid times.

Wellington is a pretty awesome city too. It’s got an energetic and artistic vibe. Coffee, craft beer and quirkiness were all highly encouraged.

There were a ton of murals, cozy alleyways and markets; plenty of quaint cafes and fun bars; a harbor walk, beach and a simple mountain walk. I got shades of San Francisco and Boston.

There seemed to be a lot of working-holiday travelers happy to set up shop and find a job in Wellington. If I had that type of visa, I’d probably consider that option too. I think there was a decent amount of opportunity in additional to culture, nature, nightlife and…beer.

They have a craft beer trail similar to Richmond’s. The problem was that the prices were too steep to complete any leg of it. $80+ in beer for a t-shirt at the end wasn’t quite enticing enough.

The only other detractor was the wind.

In the two days I had to explore, I did a lot of walking. Met up with Coen (from the Tongariro Crossing) and went up to the Mt. Victoria lookout. Enjoyed some exhibits at the Te Papa Museum, spent a decade trying to find the cable car up to botanical gardens and wandered through a night market on Cuba Street.

All good things.

As with every city, there’s a list of activities that went undone. If/when I’m able to make it back, I’d like to take a (free) tour of parliament, check out the Wellywood sign and movie museum in addition to catching a rugby game if they’re in action.

For now, I’m off to catch the ferry to the South Island.

September 2, 2018October 18, 2018

The Arrival

Am I too old now?

International travel is long and exhausting. Obvious statement. Between babies preventing sleep and the built-in germ box of an airplane, you’re pretty spent when you land. So having things perfectly planned to get you to your accommodation is ideal.

I did not do that.

I figured it would be easy enough to find a bus or snag an Uber or taxi. That was sort of true. Taxis and Ubers were priced out so I got a bus ticket. What I didn’t really consider was that it was already past midnight. Late night bus routes. They weren’t going to the stop I thought I was getting off at. Oops.

The driver was nice about it but I was last off at a very unofficial spot in downtown Auckland. It made for an interesting trek to the hostel. My phone was still in airplane mode so Verizon didn’t rip my underwear through my asshole. And I had already planned my walking route from the phantom bus stop.

Another interesting tidbit is that a highway splits the city centre from the neighborhood I had to get to. Had a dickens of a time finding a walking bridge or underpass. Then my wonky GPS shorted the address by about half a mile.

Keep in mind I’ve slept probably three hours since departing San Diego, which was…who knows? A day and a half ago at least.

But finally, I got to the hostel. Entered the code on the door and made my way in. It was past normal check in hours, so there was an envelope waiting for me.

I forgot how shitty it is to arrive super late at a damn hostel. And I of course got the dorm-style option cuz it’s cheaper.

I walk into the room and it’s pitch black. Everyone’s asleep. You can’t help but feel like a major douche fumbling around in the dark trying to figure which bed is yours and where to set down your stuff. There was no space and what seemed like no beds. Then I saw mine.

This fucking top shelf, indent afterthought area. Very audibly I’m like, “Good Lord!” A few people toss and turn. Worst pick of the lot when you’re last to arrive.

Whatever. I have to shower. Have to. So I start unzipping my shit and trying to locate what I need. Zippers have to be one of the top five most hated sounds in hostels. So disruptive. There’s no way to unzip something quietly. Try it.

After rinsing off, I was ready to get some much-needed shut-eye. I figured out how to navigate James’ giant beanstalk of a ladder up to the bed. Situated my noisy sleeping bag into position and zonked out. For a very restful three hours before the room started to hustle and bustle. Sniffling. Snoring. Jostling about. Getting up to pee. Coughing. Alarms. ZIPPERS. The sound of getting dressed.

That’s just how it goes in hostels.

Maybe I’m too old now.