The R.S.A.
by Adam & Lara on 04/18/10
Screw you, friends. We're hanging out with old people from now on.
Alright we didn't mean that. We can have the best of both worlds since some of you are just like old people in your own little way. Our friend John goes to bed at about 8:30pm. Brian and Leah go out to bars and play Farkle. Nick is sometimes unable to control what comes out of his mouth. And you can frequently see Pete driving his '52 Studebaker uptown to see the penny matinee at the nickelodeon.
But nothing beats the hospitality of a tried and true Kiwi geezer. We got a tip from the owner of a tobacconist/barbershop in Napier that if you go into the local R.S.A. (Returned and Services Association - NZ equivalent of the Legion Hall) and chat it up with the old dudes, they'll eventually invite you to stay the night in their parking lot for free. So we rolled into the Napier R.S.A. that night.
Visitors welcome, peace freaks get the f*ck out.
1 beer later, we were sitting with Serfie, Jonesie, and Fox discussing the weather, peace freaks, the business of tire sales and of course 'Nam.
2 beers later (these beers were on Serfie) we not only had an invitation to spend the night in their lot, but we also had Serfie's address and home phone number in case we needed to shower or do laundry. We spent the rest of the night drinking free beers and talking about 1980's rugby mustaches.
Reading between the lines, we bet that the Terry Wright who lived below that mustache was not a very hard bastard.
2 weeks later we hit up the R.S.A. in Motueka. We had a beer with Gary and Barbara and they invited us to Gary's 70th birthday party the next day. We dropped in around 4pm to wish him well, and ended up staying for beers, BBQ and worldly advice from Gary. By 9pm we had met all of Gary's extended family, sang the birthday song and made plans to visit again the next time we drove through. Best of all we now know to never waste a hard-on and never trust a fart.
Moral of the story: the old folks in this country are freaking great. They are friendly, hospitable to strangers and funny as hell. And they hate peace freaks, so our recommendation is to keep that detail to yourself.
Giant Dog House
by Adam & Lara on 04/17/10
New Zealand architecture has a unique spin on traditional styles, as referenced by this early Colonial style Spaniel-facade townhouse.
ZORB!
by Adam & Lara on 04/17/10
Lara and I went Zorbing and it was, for lack of a better word beginning with "zorb," zorbtastic. For those of you not familiar with the zany world of Zorbing, let us break it down for you. You roll down a hill in a giant inflated plastic ball that contains you and roughly 10 gallons of water and 1 million bajillion gallons of fun! And from the smell of it, it probably also contains trace amounts of pee.
You start all the way up high...
And then you roll topsy-turvy all the way down the hill...
And then when you get to the bottom they try to charge you $20 for a CD full of pictures of you Zorbing. We refused, and instead just took the above pictures of the people that went after us.
The best part is the entry/exit process. There is a zippered flap in the ball that covers a hole about the size of a beach ball. To get in they open the flap and you have to run and dive in. To get out they reopen the flap and you squeeze yourself through until your body flops out onto the wet grass, just like childbirth (especially for Adam, who was crying hysterically when he emerged from the Zorb).
Besides the 30 seconds of Zorbing that we did, the best part of the experience was the signage:
Like astronauts, the first Zorbonauts were also monkeys.
Not listed here, the Zappa Zorb package comes with a huge bag of mushrooms and a complimentary keychain.
It's called Zorb by the way.
Zorb.
How did you find us and what do you want?
by Adam & Lara on 04/11/10
Most of you probably got to this blog by typing the url in your browser or clicking a link that Lara or Adam sent you via email. But believe it or not there are some people out there who stumbled across us via search engines (we're huge in Japan right now). Thanks to Intuit Websites, we have the ability to see what these people searched for to find our blog:
Who the hell are you people?
Rugby
by Adam & Lara on 04/11/10
For the uninitiated, Rugby is a combination of football, soccer and slightly homoerotic touching. And boy is it exciting!
In Wellington we saw the Hurricanes play the Canterbury Crusaders at Westpac Stadium on a Friday night. The place was bumpin as we rolled in with our French Canadian friends.
We were able to sneak in 2 ice-cold Tuis in Adam's beard.
Thanks to some helpful fans in our section, we completely understood the game by the 2nd half. Here's how it's played:
First they stand over the ball and have a scrum (or "hug-o-war") until the ball pops out.
Then somebody picks up the ball and runs around for awhile. Everyone else tries to kill him.
Periodically throughout the game they form a pyramid (or "cheer-amid") to remind each other to BE AGRESSIVE, B-E-AGRESSIVE!
If the guy with the ball gets caught he is immediately punished with a big warm bear hug or a head to the crotch.
You know you've scored when this gentleman runs out onto the field and gyrates repeatedly.
Scrumpy
by Adam & Lara on 04/11/10
To Americans, "scrumpy" sounds like a pirate name or something that you need to get tested for. Both are unfavorable and/or gross.
To Kiwis, Aussies and Brits, scrumpy is alcoholic cider.
To us, scrumpy is cheap and damn tasty. Behold scrumpy:
Adam and Lara have come to love scrumpy, particularly in its "Fat Ass" variety.
Trout Fishin' At Last
by Adam & Lara on 04/11/10
It took a lot to get my Jim-Saraceno-made fly rod to NZ. Mostly because I left it on the beach in Honolulu during our 9-hour layover on the way out here. But after I had a few self-loathing shit storms, I got a voicemail from a bar owner in Waikiki who found the rod (oh, and also my $300 backpacking tent) and mailed it to our hostel in Auckland. Only cost $128.
Anywho I had to throw a line in when we got to Turangi. After all, it's the self-proclaimed "trout fishing capital of the World." Not to be confused with "trout capital U.S.A." or "the best trout fishing in the World."
I didn't catch any trout though. But I saw plenty of them, and they were big. Unfortunately they were also smart, because they didn't even blink when I bounced a tungsten bead-head Pheasant Tail (trailed by a size-22 Prince Nymph) off their little upturned noses.
Why aren't you eating the fake food that I'm shoving in your face?
And this...
Opossum World!
by Adam & Lara on 04/11/10
Just when we thought New Zealand couldn't throw any more cheesy tourist attractions at us, it gave us Opossum World... and TOTALLY REDEEMED ITSELF!
From the road one is left teeming with wonderment about what fascinating treasures lie inside. Our hearts racing, we entered with wide eyes and bushy tails - in many ways mimicking the furry beasts featured in this "world."
Possum hats - check.
Peepin' possums - check.
Possum choir singing "On The Road Again" on top of a Morris Mini - check.
Don't be ashamed... those are tears of pride and joy that you're shedding.
Tongariro Crossing
by Adam & Lara on 04/05/10
Last week we hiked the Tongariro Alpine Crossing, which is often considered the best 1-day hike in New Zealand. Some people say it's also the toughest 1-day trek, but we (not including Adam) did it without a sweat. All of the walking we've been doing has really beefed up our thighs:
That's Lara on the right.
Anyway, it was pretty dope. We walked by active volcanoes, craters and pools that were bright green from all of the sulphur in the water. Plus there was steam coming out of the ground everywhere. Definitely one of the coolest hikes we've done.
Looking out the bus window on the way there was a good reminder that we were about to climb a giant fucking volcano.
Bring it on.
Mt. Ngauruhoe, featured in Lord of the Rings, has erupted 45 times since 1900, making it the only thing in the world with a worse temper than Jim Saraceno.
In NZ, it's the Department of Conservation's job to help people enjoy nature, and occasionally scare the living shit out of you. Are you REALLY prepared to continue the trail? Now that I've pooped myself, maybe not.
It's either due to the increase in seismic activity or the increase in Wattie's Baked Beans in Adam's breakfast fare.
Lara lookin' like a fool with her pants on the ground in South Crater. Upon closer inspection, her pants were not on the ground.
Lava flows often create unusual shapes resembling objects, animals, or the human form. But we couldn't figure out what this giant vertical crevice looks like. I don't know Bonny, what do you think?
That's one steamy Lara.
The Emerald Lakes look freaky and smell farty.
You can sort of imagine the gates of hell looking something like this. Fortunately most of our blog readers won't have to imagine this forever.
Bitch betta have my kiwi...
by Adam & Lara on 04/05/10
We stopped in Whitianga to play a game of mini-golf, and to our fascination the course had a cartoon theme. At each tee there was a cartoon frame posted that told a story over the course of 18 holes. Unfortunately the story made no sense whatsoever. From what we gathered, there was a kiwi, a robot, a car and an owl (Mayor Maurice Morepork). The robot was designed to detect and kill kiwis, and the Mayor wore a huge gold chain, perhaps signifying pimp status. Maybe you can help us piece together this mystery:
This was posted at the very first hole. You're kindof thrown into the story right in the middle. How 'Memento' of them.
So Kee-Wee drives a Beetle with a vanity plate reading "RACKETTY." We ran this against the NZ Dept. of Transportation database and the search yielded zero results. Moreover, this does not even appear to be a valid vanity plate. Kee-Wee is clearly a fugitive, but what in God's name is he running from? Lara's guess was a hard life as a male prostitute.
Bingo. Lara stands beneath Maurice Morepork, or as his "bitches" call him, "The Mayor." He's dispatched his bounty-hunting electronic narc-bot (a.k.a. BEN) to intercept Kee-Wee. Note that Adam was shooting 2 below par at this point.
Just as Mayor Morepork exploited young kiwis, he also evidently exploits cheap non-union labor to build his robots. The result - a critical failure in BEN's kiwi recognition sensors.
We realize this is a children's venue, but even kids know that robots of today don't have sputtering cartoonish breakdowns when they malfunction. This is just fucking silly.
Unfortunately, after being set free it was only a matter of weeks before Kee-Wee reverted back to male prostitution.
