When in America.......

"Berkeley, Oakland, the Bay Area" (this one's for you, gang)

Back in the Bay, hooray!
Life has been whirlwind-fast since we got here, although compared to other visits this one is a walk in the park :) Due to the fact that we will be in the country for 3 months, the fam has been easy on us and all visits are in good time. Surprisingly we have had ample time to chill the heck out, which was necessary- we have been sleeping, napping and resting mainly on days with no plans, with field trips up to downtown Berkeley and the world's most excellent supermarket the berkeley Bowl for the bare essentials (microbrewery beer, California wine, sourdough bread, fresh fruit and vegetables, organic juice and cheeeeeeeese). We've been wined and dined by various Cali-family members, both biological and adopted, we've had Brazilian, Indian, Singaporian, Mexican, Californian and good ol' American food all in the space of one week. We've caffeinated ourselves at Peet's, the Bay's coffee baby, but also at a variety of new places like the latest hip-n-happening place to be Philz where they make Turkish coffee cup by cup (and it is stroooooong shit). We've tried molasses ice cream, and eaten a maple syrup and bacon doughnut. We've spent a day in our own kitchen making all sorts of delicacies. One thing is certain: we are going to get hyper and fat in this country.
We spent our first day in San Francisco with one goal- going to Alcatraz. All these years of visits to the city and not once had I been to the island. And it just so happens that we know someone that works for the company that runs ferries (and thus entrance fees) to the place. And it's not just anyone, it's my very first and oldest friend, Kyle, who managed to get us a manager escort to the boat and off we went! Alcatraz is a cool visit. We took the audio tour like good little tourists (cause we're getting older and enjoy the history), and stood in Al Capone's cell. We stood in the isolation cells. We wandered around the island and almost got shit on by the massive seagull colony that resides there. We decided never to go to jail. Back in the city, we wandered through the Financial District, took the cable car (another San Francisco tourist trap I had missed over the years) up into Chinatown and wandered back down towards the Embarcadero where the train was waiting to take us home. Good times.
Today we were taken on my aunt Lisbet's tour of the Mission district of San Francisco, where we started the day with a beautiful doughnut and a gorgeous coffee, and then wandered through streets and alleyways that are COVERED in murals. The Mission is what is traditionally known as the immigrant neighborhood (and has followed SF's constant flux in immmigration- changing from Irish to Italian to Mexican to...), but it is starting to become hip and happening (watch out for the yuppies) and thus lose it's international flavor ever so slightly. The now predominantly Latino district is known for it's murals, most of political subject matter, and creating a great vibe. It feels like you're walking through a living art museum, changing through time and culturally flavored. The district also has lots of small boutiques run by the young and creative, making it a must-go place for hipsters but also creating a healthy climate supporting local artists. Does it rate high on our list? Uh, yeah... Finishing the day in the Castro, SF's gay district, was a fine closing to the day, although the best entertainment was watching Daniel get eyed up and down by the passing men. It is said that you should follow the artists and the gay men when it comes down to the property ladder- maybe it applies to choices in men also, in which case I think I did well!

Hello San Francisco!

An 11,5 hour plane ride later, we were back on the ground but this time it was familiar for some and completely new for others. I'd actually been nervous about taking Daniel to the Bay Area, simply because it's my other home, and we are staying for 3 months, and if he didn't like it we might have a slight problem. Oh yeah, and because I wax lyrical about it all the time about it, so I was having to convince myself I wasn't FORCING him to like it. Why I ever worried is beyond me. What's not to like?
My uncle Chris picked us up, and we were taken straight from the airport to the cooking school my aunt Frances works at where we sat down for a 3 course gourmet lunch, after which we were driven across the Golden Gate back to Berkeley, where we stopped at the Berkeley Bowl (the most fabulous, wonderful supermarket in the world) and the Farmer's Market (complete with little bluesy bands busking) on our way home to our home for the next 3 months- the garden apartment under Chris and Frances' house. Really, I don't think Daniel could have had a better introduction to California :)
It's good to be back.

Goodbye New Zealand

Our last few days in NZ were not particularly memorable. After 5 weeks of consistent traveling (actually 9, Japan included), we were shattered. Christchurch was HOT and muggy, which encouraged our lethargy. We rented bikes on the second day to go into the city center, and after about an hour of cycling we realized how ridiculous the idea was. We ended up taking lots of breaks in the shade, peering at the sights and sounds of Christchurch from a slightly cooler distance, and making stops at markets and whatnot selling large containers of icy fluids. It was a good thing we went into the city the first 2 days, as the last 2 days it was positively pissing down and we were not too enthusiastic about doing much of anything that involved going outdoors. Our hostel was wonderful, with enough to do on wet rainy days. Most of the other guests seemed to be biding their time like us, waiting to leave the country or pick up their camper and start their journey. It was a renovated jailhouse, which had closed in 1999 and reopened in the form of a hostel. The owners had done a great job, and it had paid off- the Jailhouse had won tons of awards, and had been crowned Best Hostel in Australasia! It was kind of weird staying in a cell, but we were able to lock it ourselves so that was good :)
We ended up spending our remaining hours watching the Lord of the Rings Trilogy- I'd never really seen them (I know, I know... and I haven't read the book either), and it seemed appropriate after we'd seen or been at a lot of the places it was filmed. Pretty cool! We watched until the VERY end of our trip- we literally handed in the dvd as we left the hostel for the airport... And that was that. A sort flight to Auckland later, we were boarding for San Francisco- sad to leave NZ and wishing we had more time there, but excited to be heading out to the next chapter in our adventure! Here's the best part: We haven't even hit the halfway mark yet :)

Nearing the End...

New Zealand can be defined in many ways, but I think one of the best is “suicidal”. It seems that those who live here are descendants of mad Brits, Scots and Irish who spend their free time watching rugby, going to the pub and then inventing insanely manic activities that involve laughing in the face of death or severe injury. For example, a more recent addition to the list of crazy fun here is climbing into a huge inflatable ball and then being pushed down a hill, simulating something that could only be described as a snowball. I have never wondered what it would be like to be a snowball, and I can remember that when rolling down a hill, the novelty wears off real fast (mainly as stopping isn’t really an option). However, some chancer out there decided it would be great fun, and low and behold- others pay good money to find out.
We picked a more traditional Kiwi activity to balance out our skydiving adventure, something the Lonely Planet described as the ‘decaf’ of adrenaline rushes (multiple bungy jumps and canyon swings being the ‘espresso’ version): the Jet Boat. The Jet Boat was invented by some dude in Twizel, and it is a boat that has no propellor- it works like a jetski, sucking in water and spitting it out, while moving REALLY fast (like 80 km/h on water fast). We’d seen them cruising around the lake at Queenstown and up gorges around the South Island, with screaming tourists and splashes of water, but hadn’t really grasped the concept. After a few minutes of jetboating with our pilot Brady, we got the screaming (good screams)- these drivers are particularly well-known for their tricks in these highly receptive boats, like heading straight for rockfaces and dodging at the last minute (really, the very last minute), or spinning at really high speeds. It was sooooooo much fun!
After our blood-rushing interlude we realized we were almost at Christchurch, and so we headed on in to the suburbs for our very last night in the camper. We ended up at a campsite resembling a trailer park, with lots of white trash neighbors to keep us entertained (and remind us to stay in school)... Maybe not the most idyllic place to end our camping adventure, but memorable it was. Having said goodbye to the van (so sad... like losing a family member), we are now sitting pretty in our last hostel in NZ- a historic jailhouse, where we are staying in a cell!