We’ve been spending more time than we should trying to setup a phone. Telecom, the New Zealand agency that had the monopoly until recently, required only a picture ID and credit card to setup an account for us. That part was easy. The hip young ladies working at their store weren’t that clued in on the little details though, like what’s included with the phone plans. They kept suggesting that I take the pamphlets home and read them before selecting a plan that worked for me. I had already read the silly marketing brochures, and needed some clarification. When I asked them details about the terms of the plans, they suggested that I come back tomorrow to talk to Dave, who knows about the details. He’s the chubby guy with spiky black hair, and should be in around nine. I told them that I lived the other side of Motueka, and wanted to figure it out today, so I waited in the long, slow line again for someone else to suggest that I talk to Dave. I gave up and walked over to the only other option, Vodafone.
Being a European company, Vodafone require much more information in order to setup an account, but like Telecom, they don’t seem to attract the most intelligent citizens to work in their stores. I waited to talk to Nigel, their resident expert. Nigel also had spiked hair and powerful aftershave. He was the only one who seemed to know anything about the details of the Vodafone phone plans. Nigel asked why I didn’t fill in a telephone number on the paperwork. I hesitated before reminding him why I was there – to setup a telephone number. To that he said, “that could be a bit of a problem, I need to fill in a phone number.” We kept getting interrupted by one of the other Vodafone employees asking Nigel what was included in plan C, or other technical questions like how to turn on the phones. I’m not kidding; one of the ladies working there needed Nigel to show her how to turn on one of the phones a customer was looking at. After holding down the correct button to turn the phone on, Nigel asked how they could contact me, other than via email. I felt like telling him to send us a letter, or use the telephone number that he’s about to give me. He asked for my passport, which I didn’t have with me. I offered him a litany of other forms of identification, but he insisted on needing my passport.
I told him I’d be back in the afternoon with my passport. After driving back forty-five minutes to Motueka to pickup my passport, I returned to Richmond to finalize the deal with Nigel. When I got back, Nigel was sitting across the mall at the food court enjoying his lunch break. I told the other lady working there that Nigel just needed to see my passport to finish up, perhaps she could help me. She made a copy of my passport, but that was as far as her expertise could take us, so she told me to come back when Nigel was off his lunch break. I was hungry by now, so I grabbed some Indian food at a stand within view of Nigel, so I could grab him when he finished his Big Mac and get back home. Little did I know the transaction would take another two hours! Nigel’s computer crashed several times between helping other customers insert their sim cards, or slide on their stylish new lizard skin phone covers.
When Nigel finally managed to log onto his computer, he asked me again for a contact phone number. He said he couldn’t proceed without a phone number. The neighbors had given me their phone number earlier, so I pulled the piece of paper with their number on it and gave it to him. He didn’t mind that it was the neighbors phone number who I had just met, as long as he could proceed to the next step. After standing around looking stupid for another twenty minutes, I suggested that I take a walk around the mall while he sorts my account out. He thought that was a great idea since my account had to be verified before we could proceed. I checked back three times before he finally managed to get my account active. When he finally gave me the device, he told me I needed to buy a phone to connect to it, but they don’t sell those phones there. At that point, I was just happy to have an account setup with a telephone number.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
No Sleep Till … Brooklyn
We’re no longer homeless! That’s right, we’ve settled down. To escape the hustle and bustle, we moved to rural New Zealand. We’ve settled in Brooklyn! Brooklyn, Motueka that is. Just like Brooklyn, NY, it’s on planet earth. Other than that, there’s very little similarity between the two. For instance, it's not nearly as busy here in Brooklyn, New Zealand. No traffic lights at all in fact. The closest town, Riwaka has no traffic lights either. Motueka is the closest 'big' town which has two traffic circles, but still no traffic light.
We’re renting a house in a small suburb in the middle of rural farmland. Our neighbor told us that this little suburb was incorrectly zoned as urban. Our neighbor on the opposite side noticed the discrepancy and took advantage by subdividing his property. Whether that’s true or not, I don’t know.
Our address includes RD3, which stands for rural delivery number 3. I’m not sure where rural delivery 1 and 2 are. They’re probably on the north island. I think rural delivery 3 makes up the south island. We’re not sure what the postal code is yet. Postal codes are a new thing here in New Zealand, and they haven’t taken off yet. Before you send us that big housewarming basket, you’ll need the postal code. ; ) We’ll see if the post office can fill us in tomorrow.
There seem to be swarms of other kids roaming around, so Quinne and Beck will have a blast. There’s a common space behind our property where they can all explore along the riverbank.
The house is brand spanking new. We’re the very first ones to move in. That makes us a little nervous because we can’t blame any damage on the previous tenants. Our landlords helped build the house, so they’ll probably notice the bite marks in the drywall highlighted with crayola crayons. We’ll worry about that when we move out. Now we’re busy trying to move in. Rental houses in New Zealand don’t come with fridges, so we’ve been shopping around for a fridge. In the mean time, we’ve been using the fridge in the caravan.
Our shipment of goods from our previous house won’t be here for another two months, so we’re camping out in the house until then. Amy calls it our Zen house because there isn’t much in the way of furniture. To maintain its Zen status though, we’ll need to get a vacuum cleaner pretty soon. Sitting cross-legged eating off the floor grows old quickly. We’ve been looking around for outdoor furniture to use until our dining room table and chairs arrive. Andy and Erika, who we house sat for, lent us a table to eat at. We’ve been using our camp chairs with the borrowed table. Quinne can hardly see over the tabletop though, and Amy and I feel like kids with the dinner table at shoulder height. It works fine for Beck, who stands on his chair. He falls off ever now and then, but gets back up after a little complaining.
Although it’s been warm during the day, it’s been quite cold at night over the last two weeks. It was 2 degrees Celsius this morning. Even though the house is new, the builder didn’t seem to think double-paned windows were necessary. I asked our landlord about that, and he quickly responded that you didn’t need double-paned windows here. I paused before asking whether he ever used the air conditioner. I expected a tough guy like that to say “no way”. I was surprised when he said they used the air conditioner quite often during the summer. But they don’t seem to think double-paned windows are a wise investment. At least it reassured us that they aren’t planning to move into this house themselves. Surely they would’ve paid a little extra for windows if they were planning on paying the heating bill. They did insulate the walls at least. There’s a wall-mounted electric heat pump in the living room. It makes the living room comfortable, but the bedrooms on the other side of the house get quite cold at night. Read: icebox.
I've added a point on the map:
View Larger Map
We’re renting a house in a small suburb in the middle of rural farmland. Our neighbor told us that this little suburb was incorrectly zoned as urban. Our neighbor on the opposite side noticed the discrepancy and took advantage by subdividing his property. Whether that’s true or not, I don’t know.
Our address includes RD3, which stands for rural delivery number 3. I’m not sure where rural delivery 1 and 2 are. They’re probably on the north island. I think rural delivery 3 makes up the south island. We’re not sure what the postal code is yet. Postal codes are a new thing here in New Zealand, and they haven’t taken off yet. Before you send us that big housewarming basket, you’ll need the postal code. ; ) We’ll see if the post office can fill us in tomorrow.
There seem to be swarms of other kids roaming around, so Quinne and Beck will have a blast. There’s a common space behind our property where they can all explore along the riverbank.
The house is brand spanking new. We’re the very first ones to move in. That makes us a little nervous because we can’t blame any damage on the previous tenants. Our landlords helped build the house, so they’ll probably notice the bite marks in the drywall highlighted with crayola crayons. We’ll worry about that when we move out. Now we’re busy trying to move in. Rental houses in New Zealand don’t come with fridges, so we’ve been shopping around for a fridge. In the mean time, we’ve been using the fridge in the caravan.
Our shipment of goods from our previous house won’t be here for another two months, so we’re camping out in the house until then. Amy calls it our Zen house because there isn’t much in the way of furniture. To maintain its Zen status though, we’ll need to get a vacuum cleaner pretty soon. Sitting cross-legged eating off the floor grows old quickly. We’ve been looking around for outdoor furniture to use until our dining room table and chairs arrive. Andy and Erika, who we house sat for, lent us a table to eat at. We’ve been using our camp chairs with the borrowed table. Quinne can hardly see over the tabletop though, and Amy and I feel like kids with the dinner table at shoulder height. It works fine for Beck, who stands on his chair. He falls off ever now and then, but gets back up after a little complaining.
Although it’s been warm during the day, it’s been quite cold at night over the last two weeks. It was 2 degrees Celsius this morning. Even though the house is new, the builder didn’t seem to think double-paned windows were necessary. I asked our landlord about that, and he quickly responded that you didn’t need double-paned windows here. I paused before asking whether he ever used the air conditioner. I expected a tough guy like that to say “no way”. I was surprised when he said they used the air conditioner quite often during the summer. But they don’t seem to think double-paned windows are a wise investment. At least it reassured us that they aren’t planning to move into this house themselves. Surely they would’ve paid a little extra for windows if they were planning on paying the heating bill. They did insulate the walls at least. There’s a wall-mounted electric heat pump in the living room. It makes the living room comfortable, but the bedrooms on the other side of the house get quite cold at night. Read: icebox.
I've added a point on the map:
View Larger Map
Thursday, April 17, 2008
House sitting
We’ve put the caravan out in the pasture to graze for a few days while we house sit a beautiful 150 year-old farmhouse in the peaceful Motueka valley. The farm is about 67 hectares with cattle. The gracious owners, Andy and Erika let us stay on their property as we were passing through on our way to Motueka. Since they were going out of town this week, they asked us if we wanted to stay in the house while they were gone.
Erika is a skilled potter with her artwork displayed throughout the beautiful property…
If Beck gets his hands on some of these unique pottery pieces, we may be spending our time using Erika’s pottery wheel learning how to duplicate masterfully created one-off pieces. Let’s hope not.
The house is cozy and warm, and timing is impeccable. It started raining the day we moved in, and it’s been raining for three days straight. Fortunately we decked the kids out in fresh and fancy gumboots just before we came up here. We wanted to fit in with the rest of the New Zealand farmers. We let the kids choose the style, and I’m not sure they’ll blend in that well, but at least they’ll keep their feet dry and warm. In New Zealand, gumboots replace jandals when your toes get too cold and damp. Like jandals, that doesn’t mean, you can’t wear them with shorts out to dinner.
Here’s Quinne in her new zapatos…
Tell me Beck won’t fit in with the rest of the farmers…
The amazing thing is that he can turn around and casually jive with the GQ crowd without skipping a beat. He makes farming look fashionable…
Beck is happy to be out of the caravan where he can stretch out in front of the fire with a good book.
So are the rest of us. It’s amazing how good a mattress can feel after sleeping on wonky cushions for four months. Little things like washing the dishes in a full size sink seem decadently luxurious.
Andy and Erika offered us the fruits of their abundant veggie garden and fruit trees, and we happily obliged them.
All they’ve asked us to do is feed the cat and the chooks. Chores like feeding the chooks and collecting eggs are more like a special treat to Quinne than a task. Only one egg – since we checked a few hours ago. That’s all right; we’ll wait for them to lay another.
Bye for now, and we’ll be sure to lock the gate so the chooks don’t escape.
Erika is a skilled potter with her artwork displayed throughout the beautiful property…
If Beck gets his hands on some of these unique pottery pieces, we may be spending our time using Erika’s pottery wheel learning how to duplicate masterfully created one-off pieces. Let’s hope not.
The house is cozy and warm, and timing is impeccable. It started raining the day we moved in, and it’s been raining for three days straight. Fortunately we decked the kids out in fresh and fancy gumboots just before we came up here. We wanted to fit in with the rest of the New Zealand farmers. We let the kids choose the style, and I’m not sure they’ll blend in that well, but at least they’ll keep their feet dry and warm. In New Zealand, gumboots replace jandals when your toes get too cold and damp. Like jandals, that doesn’t mean, you can’t wear them with shorts out to dinner.
Here’s Quinne in her new zapatos…
Tell me Beck won’t fit in with the rest of the farmers…
The amazing thing is that he can turn around and casually jive with the GQ crowd without skipping a beat. He makes farming look fashionable…
Beck is happy to be out of the caravan where he can stretch out in front of the fire with a good book.
So are the rest of us. It’s amazing how good a mattress can feel after sleeping on wonky cushions for four months. Little things like washing the dishes in a full size sink seem decadently luxurious.
Andy and Erika offered us the fruits of their abundant veggie garden and fruit trees, and we happily obliged them.
All they’ve asked us to do is feed the cat and the chooks. Chores like feeding the chooks and collecting eggs are more like a special treat to Quinne than a task. Only one egg – since we checked a few hours ago. That’s all right; we’ll wait for them to lay another.
Bye for now, and we’ll be sure to lock the gate so the chooks don’t escape.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Ice Cream Update
Thank you for clicking on the ads below. As you may have read from a few posts ago, we make a few cents every time one of you clicks on an ad. Although we haven’t actually seen the fruit of the clicks yet (GoogleAds have our account on hold until they can verify our details), our account shows that we’ve made some sweet mula from your kind clicks. To verify our account, it seems we have to go through a background check, police record, warranty of good civil standing, and get it notarized before Google will pay us. If and when they do, we’ll be feasting on some tasty treats.
According to our online statement, here’s what we’ve made so far (pre-tax):
March - $44.56
April - $18.77
That converts to:
March - 11.14 double-deluxe soft serve ice creams with a flake in the middle
April - 4.6925 double-deluxe soft serve ice creams with a flake in the middle
Wow, 15.8325 ice creams. Our mouths are watering in anticipation. If you would be so kind as to click a few more times, we’ll have 4 ice creams each. We’ll keep you posted on our progress.
According to our online statement, here’s what we’ve made so far (pre-tax):
March - $44.56
April - $18.77
That converts to:
March - 11.14 double-deluxe soft serve ice creams with a flake in the middle
April - 4.6925 double-deluxe soft serve ice creams with a flake in the middle
Wow, 15.8325 ice creams. Our mouths are watering in anticipation. If you would be so kind as to click a few more times, we’ll have 4 ice creams each. We’ll keep you posted on our progress.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
On The Road Home
We were so wrapped up in figuring out our route up to the Nelson area, that we didn’t take the time to appreciate that we are on the last leg of our road trip. We realized it, but didn’t really acknowledge it until now. After spending a couple of relaxing nights in the Nelson Lakes National Park, we started down the road to Motueka and suddenly calculated that today will be the last day of this four-month-long road trip. It’s suddenly snuck up on us. Yes, we’ll still be in our caravan until we find somewhere to stay, but we’ve finished our New Zealand wide exploratory tour. One Kiwi termed it our ‘LSD trip’ (look see discover). Well, yes it has been a psychedelic, mind warping experience for sure.
We’re having lunch at a tranquil, free camping spot about 45 minutes outside Motueka. When we wrap up lunch, we’ll be hurtling at 80 kph toward our future life. It’s a strange feeling, like being on the last day of high school. We’re looking forward to settling down and exploring a new community, but we already miss being on the road and exploring this magnificent country. We’re excited about what lies ahead. It’s another thrilling adventure that we’ll continue to blog about.
It took us about three months to settle into the rhythm of being on the road and figuring out how it all works traveling in a caravan. Now everything has a place and a purpose, and we know what must be strapped down and buckled in. We’ve finally figured out how to setup and pack up again, but we’re still not the fastest, or sleekest campers around. That’s not possible with a mischievous ankle-biter, and a pretty little treasure collector. I’m sure we’ve taken on the weight of the caravan again in heart shaped stones, leaves, shells, twigs, and trinkets Quinne found along the way. Some heart shaped stones are too big to fit in the caravan, so Daddy takes a picture of it instead.
Fortunately, Beck has a habit of throwing things out the window. Of coarse, that can also be a bad thing. We’re not sure what we’ve lost along the way, but we can list a few things. At least we’ve kept our minds, and our happy little family joyfully together. There are still little tips we’re learning, but we’re finally comfortable with how life on the road for the Webers works.
We realize that it’ll be such a change of lifestyle and will take us time to adapt to a new way of life in a strange country. Much more than four months. It’s very exciting though, because anything is possible. Wish us luck on our next chapter, but don’t stop clicking on those ads yet ;)
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Hanmer Springs
When we spent two and a half weeks touring around New Zealand three years ago, we spent our first night in Hanmer Springs. We really enjoyed our initial New Zealand experience in this charming little mountain town and took full advantage of the relaxing hot springs. In the three years since we last visited, Hanmer Springs has grown and become quite exclusive. The amount of smart new houses that have cropped up is stunning. We shouldn’t be surprised though, given the serene surroundings, popular hot pools, and the recent growth of the New Zealand economy. Again, we took full advantage of the now somewhat crowded, hot springs.
Unfortunately, we didn’t fill up on diesel before we left Kaikoura for Hanmer Springs. We were sure there would be several petrol stations in Hanmer Springs. We were wrong. We pulled into the only petrol station in the area on a Saturday evening at 6:30 pm. Diesel is usually $1.32 per liter, but at the Hanmer Springs station it was $1.48 per liter! There’s no other station for almost one hundred kilometers. We were on empty and needed to fill up. We pulled up to the diesel pump, removed the hose and attempted to refuel. The pump didn’t turn on, so I walked toward the shop. When I saw the desperate look on the other customer’s face and saw that the lights were off inside the shop, I realized that the station was closed. Now I knew why they looked so desperate. They’ll either be staying in Hanmer Springs, or somewhere between here and where they run out of gas, whether they planned to or not.
Fortunately we had our caravan and were only planning to leave the next day. The other unlucky customers were not as blessed. They wouldn’t pull into what’s probably the most expensive petrol station in New Zealand if they weren’t already on empty. Now they had to stay the night and hope they opened on Sunday. The local hotels probably pay the petrol station to close early in the evening to force weary travelers to pay their elevated hotel prices.
I have to admit that it was somewhat amusing watching the other poor drivers realize the situation they were in. Two girls of about nine and ten, dashed out of the car with the change their father gave them to buy some candy, probably to keep them at bay during the long and windy road trip. When they realized the store was closed, they started whining as if it were their mother’s fault. Their mother was quick to snap back that their delayed candy fix was the least of their worries.
With our trusty caravan (touch wood) we avoided the expensive hotels and camped at the NZ Motor Caravan Association leased land on the outskirts of town. This photo was taken down the road from our campsite. It certainly is beautiful open countryside. The trout fishing is supposed to be some of the best in the world.
Unfortunately, we didn’t fill up on diesel before we left Kaikoura for Hanmer Springs. We were sure there would be several petrol stations in Hanmer Springs. We were wrong. We pulled into the only petrol station in the area on a Saturday evening at 6:30 pm. Diesel is usually $1.32 per liter, but at the Hanmer Springs station it was $1.48 per liter! There’s no other station for almost one hundred kilometers. We were on empty and needed to fill up. We pulled up to the diesel pump, removed the hose and attempted to refuel. The pump didn’t turn on, so I walked toward the shop. When I saw the desperate look on the other customer’s face and saw that the lights were off inside the shop, I realized that the station was closed. Now I knew why they looked so desperate. They’ll either be staying in Hanmer Springs, or somewhere between here and where they run out of gas, whether they planned to or not.
Fortunately we had our caravan and were only planning to leave the next day. The other unlucky customers were not as blessed. They wouldn’t pull into what’s probably the most expensive petrol station in New Zealand if they weren’t already on empty. Now they had to stay the night and hope they opened on Sunday. The local hotels probably pay the petrol station to close early in the evening to force weary travelers to pay their elevated hotel prices.
I have to admit that it was somewhat amusing watching the other poor drivers realize the situation they were in. Two girls of about nine and ten, dashed out of the car with the change their father gave them to buy some candy, probably to keep them at bay during the long and windy road trip. When they realized the store was closed, they started whining as if it were their mother’s fault. Their mother was quick to snap back that their delayed candy fix was the least of their worries.
With our trusty caravan (touch wood) we avoided the expensive hotels and camped at the NZ Motor Caravan Association leased land on the outskirts of town. This photo was taken down the road from our campsite. It certainly is beautiful open countryside. The trout fishing is supposed to be some of the best in the world.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Mascot
Aren’t you glad this isn’t your school mascot?
I’m sure its true, but you’d also sulk if you inherited this mascot. You don’t sulk if you win, so they’re already labeled as losers before they even start. They might as well call themselves the West Melton Losers.
Go sulkies.
I’m sure its true, but you’d also sulk if you inherited this mascot. You don’t sulk if you win, so they’re already labeled as losers before they even start. They might as well call themselves the West Melton Losers.
Go sulkies.
Gone Fishin
Quinne has been very interested in exploring the world famous trout fishing to be had here in New Zealand. Unfortunately she doesn’t have her Nana and PopPop to show her the way, and her parents aren’t experts when it comes to fishing. In fact, Amy doesn’t even eat fish, let alone know how to lure them from the waters.
In spite of this, Quinne took it upon herself to gear up and take to the waters. She took the hook from the new socks Nana and PopPop sent, some yarn from Amy’s knitting supplies, a stick from the ground, and here’s what she came up with…
I’ll let you know if she catches anything. Amy insists it should be catch and release, but I’m not sure she has that much to worry about.
In spite of this, Quinne took it upon herself to gear up and take to the waters. She took the hook from the new socks Nana and PopPop sent, some yarn from Amy’s knitting supplies, a stick from the ground, and here’s what she came up with…
I’ll let you know if she catches anything. Amy insists it should be catch and release, but I’m not sure she has that much to worry about.
Rock Snot Rap
Young Chad is probably the only American (other than Sarah) who will know what Didymo is. Didymo is an algae that clogs up the waterways. Although it was introduced into the rivers here in New Zealand from the US, we hadn’t heard of it before. It’s quite a problem here, but we can’t help making fun of the name.
When you’re on a long road trip, you come up with very strange things to amuse yourself. They don’t need to make sense as long as they pass the time and make you laugh. We composed this song while driving along. It was inspired partly by the Rock Snot Café in Murchison where we spent a long afternoon using their Internet.
For you, Chad, we wrote this little ditty…
yo yo
We got a little ditty about Didymo.
It’s probably a ditty you didn’t know
Because you didn’t know about Didymo.
When you’re in the islands way down low,
You’ll see Didymo everywhere you go.
You’ll find it down where the rivers flow.
Now we’re gonna tell you blow by blow,
Why you mustn’t touch it even with your toe.
To make a little bit of extra dough,
They harvested some Didymo with a rake and hoe.
They put Didymo in our cuppa joe.
We ate the Didymo coz we didn’t know.
Because of Didymo,
We couldn’t go no mo.
Now that we know,
We don’t eat no mo Didymo,
Oh no no
Don’t worry, we didn’t really eat any Didymo.
We also worked on:
Do wah diddy diddy diddy di didymo
There we were just walking down the street,
Singin’ do wah diddy diddy diddy di didymo,
Paddling our kayak just as happy as could be
Singin’ do wah diddy diddy diddy di didymo…
Ok, we’ll stop now.
We’re back at the Rock Snot Café to break up our trip on the way up north. Unfortunately their network is down. I asked the lady behind the counter about why it was down, but she was quick to tell me that she didn’t know anything about ‘those things’, referring to the computers. She half looked over her shoulder to ask the other two ladies helping her attend to the café full of us and another lone couple sipping a flat white and long black. The other two café employees, who were looking for things to straighten up, were no more help. That’s one of them in the picture above taking a well-earned break. The only advice they gave was that the computers had been blank for several days now, but they don’t know anything about them. They added that they were surprised nobody had been out to fix them. I wondered if they considered telling their boss that the computers had been blank for several days. Or maybe the owner was waiting for the computer specialist to swing by and reboot the computers and charge her a few hundred dollars for his skills. In the mean time, we’ll finish our cappuccino and fluffy, let our laptop recharge, and look for some Didymo where the kayakers launch their boats.
We can’t go into a café now without ordering Quinne a fluffy. A fluffy is just a small cup of frothed milk. Sometime they throw in two small marshmallows and a sprinkle of chocolate powder to justify charging a dollar or two. We usually ask for a fluffy without the accoutrements to comfort us into thinking we’re just giving her a bit of milk. If Oliver conveniently forgets to make this request, he’s forced into eating the marshmallows and chocolate off the top before the poor deprived Quinne notices. In actuality, we’re falling into the clever café trap that lures innocent kids into the coffee addiction. It starts with a virgin fluffy and soon moves up to chocolate sprinkled fluffies, fluffies with colorful candy sprinkles, alluring pastel marshmallows, and keeps going from there.
Quinne feels quite grown up sitting among the other adults sipping her fancy looking fluffy. Beck now recognizes them and fervently asks for his share, forcing Quinne to remove her airs of superiority and share her distinguished cup of fluff with her childish baby brother. It won’t be long before we find her staggering into the closest café for her fix of double espresso to calm her nerves. And it’ll be all our fault. I just hope we don’t stop off at the café before composing another silly caffeine induced rap.
Ok, it’s time for us to paddle upstream and avoid the Didymo.
Here's what it looks like (in the picture)...
When you’re on a long road trip, you come up with very strange things to amuse yourself. They don’t need to make sense as long as they pass the time and make you laugh. We composed this song while driving along. It was inspired partly by the Rock Snot Café in Murchison where we spent a long afternoon using their Internet.
For you, Chad, we wrote this little ditty…
yo yo
We got a little ditty about Didymo.
It’s probably a ditty you didn’t know
Because you didn’t know about Didymo.
When you’re in the islands way down low,
You’ll see Didymo everywhere you go.
You’ll find it down where the rivers flow.
Now we’re gonna tell you blow by blow,
Why you mustn’t touch it even with your toe.
To make a little bit of extra dough,
They harvested some Didymo with a rake and hoe.
They put Didymo in our cuppa joe.
We ate the Didymo coz we didn’t know.
Because of Didymo,
We couldn’t go no mo.
Now that we know,
We don’t eat no mo Didymo,
Oh no no
Don’t worry, we didn’t really eat any Didymo.
We also worked on:
Do wah diddy diddy diddy di didymo
There we were just walking down the street,
Singin’ do wah diddy diddy diddy di didymo,
Paddling our kayak just as happy as could be
Singin’ do wah diddy diddy diddy di didymo…
Ok, we’ll stop now.
We’re back at the Rock Snot Café to break up our trip on the way up north. Unfortunately their network is down. I asked the lady behind the counter about why it was down, but she was quick to tell me that she didn’t know anything about ‘those things’, referring to the computers. She half looked over her shoulder to ask the other two ladies helping her attend to the café full of us and another lone couple sipping a flat white and long black. The other two café employees, who were looking for things to straighten up, were no more help. That’s one of them in the picture above taking a well-earned break. The only advice they gave was that the computers had been blank for several days now, but they don’t know anything about them. They added that they were surprised nobody had been out to fix them. I wondered if they considered telling their boss that the computers had been blank for several days. Or maybe the owner was waiting for the computer specialist to swing by and reboot the computers and charge her a few hundred dollars for his skills. In the mean time, we’ll finish our cappuccino and fluffy, let our laptop recharge, and look for some Didymo where the kayakers launch their boats.
We can’t go into a café now without ordering Quinne a fluffy. A fluffy is just a small cup of frothed milk. Sometime they throw in two small marshmallows and a sprinkle of chocolate powder to justify charging a dollar or two. We usually ask for a fluffy without the accoutrements to comfort us into thinking we’re just giving her a bit of milk. If Oliver conveniently forgets to make this request, he’s forced into eating the marshmallows and chocolate off the top before the poor deprived Quinne notices. In actuality, we’re falling into the clever café trap that lures innocent kids into the coffee addiction. It starts with a virgin fluffy and soon moves up to chocolate sprinkled fluffies, fluffies with colorful candy sprinkles, alluring pastel marshmallows, and keeps going from there.
Quinne feels quite grown up sitting among the other adults sipping her fancy looking fluffy. Beck now recognizes them and fervently asks for his share, forcing Quinne to remove her airs of superiority and share her distinguished cup of fluff with her childish baby brother. It won’t be long before we find her staggering into the closest café for her fix of double espresso to calm her nerves. And it’ll be all our fault. I just hope we don’t stop off at the café before composing another silly caffeine induced rap.
Ok, it’s time for us to paddle upstream and avoid the Didymo.
Here's what it looks like (in the picture)...
Parson’s Rock
Here are some pictures from our campground in the lakes region west from Oamaru.
This thrilling swing gently launched its contents way over the clear turquoise lake.
The lakeshore is beautiful in the morning when the water is calm…
Not far from these lakes, on the coast is the quaint town of Oamaru. It reminded us of a European town with its stone buildings and tree lined main avenue. Oamaru is a splendid town with interesting architecture and quaint shops…
The limestone from the area plays an important role in the architecture and livelihood (for some at least)…
Property prices are still reasonable here. The area is very dry and receives little rainfall, but has pockets of extremely fertile soil like on this picturesque organic farm just outside Oamaru…
Irrigation is imperative.
Not a bad place to live. Beck even has the outfit for it. Perhaps he’ll make a good farmer one day.
This thrilling swing gently launched its contents way over the clear turquoise lake.
The lakeshore is beautiful in the morning when the water is calm…
Not far from these lakes, on the coast is the quaint town of Oamaru. It reminded us of a European town with its stone buildings and tree lined main avenue. Oamaru is a splendid town with interesting architecture and quaint shops…
The limestone from the area plays an important role in the architecture and livelihood (for some at least)…
Property prices are still reasonable here. The area is very dry and receives little rainfall, but has pockets of extremely fertile soil like on this picturesque organic farm just outside Oamaru…
Irrigation is imperative.
Not a bad place to live. Beck even has the outfit for it. Perhaps he’ll make a good farmer one day.
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