New Zealand

Alright my peeps, here is the definitive New Zealand entry.

Definitive for two reasons.

1. Firstly because I'm actually typing this 48 hours before we get on a plane and return to Canada where the daily grind of my soul-sucking job in a windowless cubicle will drain away my will to live as well as my desire to blog, so I know that I must publish this before I get on that Air New Zealand flight.

2. There really aren't that many photos to show. We've, ah, had some camera troubles. Leaving aside our usual ineptitude -- poorly taken shots, pictures concentrating on the cuteness of our baby over actual scenery, the constant forgetting to bring/charge/take out the camera... New Zealand has also brought fresh challenges.

When we landed in Christchurch we took some lovely photos of the Botanical Gardens and the earthquake ravaged city. Then we got on a train and took day trip into the New Zealand's Southern Alps, home of some of the most jaw droppingly gorgeous mountain scenery you've ever seen. Seriously snow capped mountains, stunning lakes, gorgeous gorges. Violet was also extremely cute on the train doing all sorts of smiling and finger sucking. Also, it's possible that either Andrew or myself fell asleep for a short spell and the other person took embarrassing, slack jawed, drool-ridden photos of the other.

I am describing these photos,because, in true Amy and Andy fashion we lost our camera. This is, of course, reminiscent of the Normandy incident...

We then spent two days wondering what we should do... We were pretty sure we'd left it at the hotel, so we sent them an email. In the meantime, do we replace the camera at a cost of $100? What if the Ibis returns one of our emails and tells us that it's located our camera? Then we'd have two cameras, which seems ridiculous for a couple who spent 2.5 years in Europe, including a photo safari in Africa, and has a total of 10 photos that aren't blurry or just stupid shots of one another's dumb hair, inadvertent matching outfits or general tomfoolery.

During those two days we drove north from Christchurch in our campervan and stayed on the coast in Kaikoura. There we saw more insanely gorgeous scenery -- imagine giant mountains ending dramatically in the South Pacific (we have to imagine it, because we have no photos) and huge male fur seals so close you could club them (ha ha, little Canadian humour for the international readership -- you two know who you are... we'd never want to club adult seals... only the babies...). We also visited the Brancott Estate winery... more mental photos were taken there, though, frankly, after the tour, those mental shots are quite fuzzy.

From Bleinham and the wineries we moved on to the fabulous Abel Tasman National park. Golden sands overlooking turquoise water, lush rainforest, incredible hiking track. There, it was so effing pretty we caved and bought another camera... Of course, that afternoon we got an email from the Ibis in Christchurch telling us they'd found our camera...

What's important though, is that we now have photos of our trip:




Let's start with the campervan, because yes, yes New Zealand is the most beautiful place I've ever been to. Yes there are seals, and whales and sheep at every turn, and yes the people do have a certain Hobbit-esque quality to them that is one part magical and one part furry, but what has been consuming me about this entire journey was our plan to spend 7 nights in a campervan.

I am not a fan of camping... the bugs, the uncomfortable sleeping, the possibility of being eaten by a bear, mauled by a raccoon, or coming across some sort of bird. When I do camp in Canada it is car camping, which means that I can always crawl into the car and lock all of the doors if a bear attacks, it starts to rain or Andy snores.

Andrew used my slight partiality to car camping to sell me on the campervan... It would be like car camping except LUXURIOUS... We'd have an actual bed and a stove and a fridge too! The advantage of doing it was that it would save us a ton of money, which since the unfortunate unmasking of Dr Paul Ettlinger we were in need of to swing this vakay, and it would also allow us to do what the Kiwis do... apparently they are GAGA for camper-vanning and the whole country is set up to cater to them.

The long and the short of it is that I signed on to the campervan and we headed out of Christchurch to pick our bad boy up.

My first reaction was that it was very small. Many times in this blog I have mentioned my childhood spent in the beloved Econoline van, which was used to transport the horde of Tectors over the Townships hills. Well, our campervan, which I was expected to live in for 8 days, was SMALLER than the Econoline. Sure it had a roof that popped up, but even then, the pop immediately sloped, and couldn't really conceal the fact that we were going to be living in a van.

My man and my van.

Despite the smallness of the van I was quite excited. We had a teeny tiny stove and a teeny tiny fridge (unfortunately not stocked with those teeny tiny bottles of liquor that hotels give you) and three plates, three forks, three bowls and three mugs. We had a bed that somehow magically folded up into a back seat and a front seat that swivelled around and many secret little drawers and cupboards ingeniously hidden to maximize space. It was like I was living inside Barbie's Dream House (not that I was every allowed Barbie's Dream House, or any other Barbie "extra." With 4 girls my parents caved under the estrogen pressure and bought us Barbies but we were only allowed to have what the Barbies came with in their boxes -- no dream houses, no Kens, no cool cars, or ponies and no extra clothes -- my Barbies often wore Kleenex as dresses).

I digress.

Here's an interior shot of the van, in all its popped up glory:



Every little thing had its own little place and you had to stow everthing away in its proper little house before you could pack up and move on, otherwise your bag with the laptop in it might come crashing down on top of your tiny little baby.

A very bad and uninformative shot of the van's interior. I'm not Ansel Adams, people.

Of course, anyone who knows Andrew and I knows that storing every little thing in its proper little place is not our forte. In fact, such behaviour is our Achilles Heel. We are a messy, messy people and the campervan soon lost its magical, Barbie Dream House feel, and took on more of a Barbie's Dream Dump look.

Here is a shot proving that we have given up. (It's probably Day Two). Rather than feed Violet with a spoon, we are squirting food directly into her mouth. Also, please note that Violet is sitting on the campervan floor, on the turned over tabletop, which we could no longer be bothered to actually put together. Instead we lived like hobos in our van, which we parked down by the river...


You know what, though? I actually enjoyed the campervan (or so i claim, from the comfort of my heated, TV'd, walled, hotel room in Auckland). It allowed us to see a ton of the country and it was actually fun making do all together as a family.

We'd get Violet up in the morning from her little sleeping tent in the front an then hang out in bed with her:

The kid excels at bed head.

The family Hortec on a swing bridge.

This boat, which we took to go hiking in Abel Tasman was also the sight of a momentous discovery...


No, not that Violet's head might actually be the same size of mine, but that that big melon of hers is actually sprouting her first two teeth! Very exciting, and it also explained her grumpiness. Turns out that Violet WASN'T annoyed about being dragged halfway around the world and put to bed every night in the front seat of a van, but was just (finally) growing a few chompers. Hurray!

Stock crossing near Picton. Leaping cows!

Beautiful lagoon spotted on an Abel Tasman hike. Quite, quite sublime. All it needed was Brooke Shields' curly, golden haired dreamboat to make it all perfect.

Violet, uninterested in the majesty of Arthur's Pass, the stunning vistas of the Abel Tasman Park, the thrill of the ferry crossing the Cook Strait, the exhibits at Wellington's Te Paua Museum, the art deco buildings in Napier, the geothermals wonders of Rotarua, the Maori dancing or stunning ocean views... Her highlight will be her reflection in the campervan side mirror.


Andy has refused to shave or cut his hair over this vacation. At first I enjoyed his scruffyness, but it has started to wear on me. He has begun to look like Grizzly Adams or the kind of guy who kidnaps young Mormon girls for years at a time and likes to be referred to as "the Prophet." Or actually, he now bears a startling resemblance to Peter, the creepy koala guy from Raymond Island.

Haka Falls, a very impressive torrential river.

Violet less interested in the falls than in banging the information panel:

These falls are significant, because despite having another 5 days to our fabulous vacation wherein we saw truly stunning geothermal scenery in Rorutua, including bright yellow sulfur lakes and huge spouting geysers and amazing Maori dance and song performances, this is the last of our photos. Yup, while our left-behind-at-the Ibis camera was being mailed back to Canada, the emergency camera we'd bought on the South Island crapped out on us and died. Really, though, this time it wasn't our fault (although in retrospect, giving it to Violet to play with might not have been the best idea).

La la.

That's the blog until next time.

Thanks for reading, dudes!