Tag Archives: Waitomo

Kia Ora from New Zealand!

We’ve been traveling for a few days now. We made our way from Auckland to Otorohanga and Waitomo yesterday, and ended up spending the night in Hamilton. Today we traveled to Rotorua where we’ll be for the next couple days. So far we have seen some really amazing things, and met some really nice people.

A few things that are a little crazy…the price of food, that no where has normal brewed coffee, and that tips are refused like the money is contaminated.

Stay tuned for another update when internet is available again.

Don’t forget to pack the pine trees!

Flights, miscellaneous transportation, and accommodation are all booked. Now, we just have to get everything ready. Fazh finally found some good shoes to wear, and his back pack is due to arrive next week. I have the usual stuff to pick up, like bandaids and travel meds (Advil, Immodium, Polysporin etc.)

Fazh let me know he already has three travel bottles of shampoo to take. He has less hair than most, and it is only for 2 weeks; I’ll make him leave 2 shampoos at home. As the trip gets closer, he’s also becoming paranoid about situations that would be horrendous when traveling, like having bowel issues while on a bus trip. No one wants stomach problems while traveling–ever. To make matters worse, for the 7 hour bus trip we have one day, there is no toilet facilities on the bus. Here’s another great convo for you all:

Fazh: What happens if I have to go to the bathroom on the bus?
Me: Well it will stop about every 2 hours, so you shouldn’t have a problem.
Fazh: No. What happens if I HAVE TO GO?
Me: Well I guess you pee or poop your pants.
Fazh: I’ll bring a tarp and some wet wipes then.
Me: Maybe some Depends, and some air freshener because you’ll stink.
Fazh: Yes, you know those little trees, I’ll get some of those and stuff them down my shorts.
Me: The pine tree air fresheners?!?
Fazh: Yes, and they’ll be like, “WHO SHIT A TREE?!?!”

 

pine tree

So, because he’s worried about the bathroom situations (which aren’t an issue here, he goes out and about and functions like a normal human being) I asked him if he would be ok on a 2 hour trip under ground to check out Ruakuri Cave in Waitomo. I don’t know what kind of facilities are going to be available and he said…

Fazh: They’ll say, “Who pooped in the corner? It must have been the Canadian because there is a moose antler in it.”

Seriously, what have I signed myself up for?!?! I’m sure he’ll be happy I’m sharing this with the world, but it cracks me up. You should be able to have most of the full experience too.

Charles, you don’t need that!

So, you might know that I’m taking my dad (Fazh) to New Zealand in a little over 2 weeks. He’s gone a little nutty with excitement. Months ago I gave him Eyewitness New Zealand to read through. He started dog earring corners, and writing notes in the book, essentially making a list of things he wanted to see. This is his trip, so I’ll do my best to make sure as much of what he wants to see is included. Some of the requests created a logistical nightmare. We only have 2 weeks and he’s got about 2 months worth of stuff on the list.

Most important to him was seeing how kiwi fruit grows, seeing a Kauri tree logging harbour, seeing a sheep shearing, going to the glow worm caves, and seeing penguins. He also wants to take the InterIsland ferry and the TranzAlpine train. Then he decided that Milford Sound and the Moeraki Boulders would be good options as well. All of those things I’m alright with except for the logging industry. That wasn’t going to be logistically possible, and was promptly cut. (I also couldn’t make the TranzAlpine work. The Coastal Pacific works just fine though.)

I think the fruit is what he’s most excited for, it isn’t like we don’t have kiwi fruit in the supermarket here, and it isn’t like he has never see a sheep being shorn in Canada either. Who am I to argue?

As the trip gets closer, he gets sillier. Here’s a conversation from last week.

Me: We’re going to have to get you some snacks for the 7 hour bus ride we have one day so you don’t turn into a cranky bitch.
Fazh: Stock me up on marshmallows and licorice, and I’ll be fine.
Me: Uh, maybe we could get you a sandwich and a drink or something to pack with you instead of just sugar.
Fazh: Where are you going to get a sandwich there?

Like he has a steady diet of pure sugar here? Like there are no supermarkets in New Zealand? No bread, no sandwich supplies? Really?!?

And today he calls me at work:

Fazh: I have to go buy a backpack for the trip. I think I’m going to get something camouflage so that I can use it for hunting and fishing later.
Me: Ok, but you have to get something small. 30L or less. It has to be small enough for carry-on. I’ll take you shopping on Thursday after work so you can pick out something good.
Fazh: I have ear plugs for the plane. They have a string connecting them so I don’t lose them. And I’m going to pick up a Louis L’Amour book. They’re all the same–the cowboy will ride his horse around, do some shooting, run around for a while, kiss the girl and they’ll ride off into the sunset together. Those books are all the same. I’m going to buy one right now.

(FYI: He bought FOUR Louis L’Amour books today! Who brings 4 books on vacation? They weigh a fricken ton, and I’m being the luggage stickler forcing him to take only carry-on. Ol’ Louis might just have to sit this one out…or at least 3 of them will. Jeeze!)

And after work:

Me: Did you find a backpack?
Fazh: Yes, I looked at them. I saw one that looked comfortable.
Me: Did you try it on?
Fazh: No, you told me not to buy it unless you looked at it. I also saw some Merrell running shoes that looked comfortable. They had a deal buy 1 pair get 1 pair half off so they could have gotten $200 out of me.
Me: You know you can buy just 1 pair right?
Fazh: Well I didn’t buy any because you told me not to buy anything.
Me: …….

But the best part of the day, and for all of you who get this conversation, I hope you find it as funny as me. (FYI: he’s 62, able bodied, and does not limp.)

Fazh: I don’t want you yelling at me because I’m old. I don’t want you yelling at me because I’m limping around. I don’t want you yelling at me because I’m slow.
Me: I’ll yell at you, you’ve got a 20 minute time limit, move it along mister. I’m gonna yell at you if you so much as think about eating an extra cookie.
Fazh: Then I’ll start calling you JOAN!*
Me: Charles you don’t need that!

Moral of the story, I might go cuckoo.

*Joan is my Grandma’s name. She’s the food police with my Grandpa.