• Jumping out of 2005 and gliding into 2006! (proof at the end of this post)

• “I don’t wanna see no more waterfalls, no more sheep, and no more bays!” (Diane in a NYC accent after 8 hours of kayaking).
• “Exactly how does this work? Do you have flares? What are the mortality statistics for this adventure sport?” (Christine, before every adventure activity).
• Hokey pokey flavored ice cream! And lethal-smelling tevas.
• Pupu Springs, the Pipi Patch, and Tekaka Springs, Tekaka Road, Tekaka Falls, Tekaka Drive, Tekaka Hill, Tekaka Valley, Tekaka Mountain………
• Was that 25 hours we spent in the car? On which side of the road?
• Any negative insinuation about Kiwis duly rescinded! Any impressions of them as sterile and boring transformed into virtuous when I began to notice all of the monuments, memorials and testimonials in various parks and churches honoring such great virtues as bravery and heroism. They are a heroic lot indeed and just happen to combine that with a peaceableness that enables them to utter “cheers mate, no worrries” with sincerity.The contrast to Americans was very clear today when I returned to LAX (which likely embodies the worst extremes of our country), where I was confronted with a grumpy, self-seeking, depleted lot of folk. Plus, the bathrooms are a lot dirtier here.
• Another bummer on re-entry: a happy, smiling framed photo of none other than yours truly as we walked into the terminal. Sigh…I’d spent five weeks of bliss having forgotten about him.

And with all the logistics and transfers I’ve done over the past 5 weeks (drumroll please: SFO to Lima to Cusco to Lima to Santiago to Buenos Aires to Santiago to Valparaiso to Santiago to Auckland to Queenstown to Te Anau to Milford Sound to Te Anau to Queenstown to Arrowtown to Nelson to Pohara to Abel Tasman to Nelson to Picton to Wellington to Auckland to Waitomo to Auckland to KeriKeri to Auckland to LAX to SFO) — yes, with ALL of these potentials for mishaps, the ONLY glitch was right here, back home in SFO when our beloved TSA had to detonate some sort of bag before we could enter the gate.

An ignominous end to a fabulous, blessed, refreshing trip…may 2006 be different because of it! God is GOOD. Looking forward to His work in 2006!

• Wellington was so marvy but we sadly didn’t have time to do all that is needed there, such as see the WETA studios (Peter Jackson is the modern patriarch) or tour the Te Papau museum. But very cool modern art and architecture adorns the whole waterfront and made for some nice morning touring.
• On to the Waitomo Caves where we did the coolest most unique thing ever: “Black Water Rafting” , which entails rapelling (or “abseiling” as they call it down unda) through dark caves and floating and walking through icy cavewater, stopping of course for the proverbial civilized tea and crumpets before slidingdown more waterfalls and floating on our backs on inner tubes to view the galaxy-like glow-worms (or more accurately, glow gnats which is of course, less marketable). Yes, we really looked this stupid (we still aren’t sure why they made us wear those oversized shorts unless it was for their own personal entertainment).
• Note to future travelers: the website for the Waitomo Caves Inn is far nicer than the real deal. Stay somewhere else and spare yourself a Bates Motel experience!
• Divine intervention in planning our last leg on the Bay of Islands…about which we can’t say more beyond the fact that it is PARADISE – pure and simple. Aquamarine waters. Dreamy catamaran cruises on the Bay with stops at islets to snorkle. Dolphins that really DO swim right up next to the boat and in large pods to boot. Great hiking. Bright inense sunshine. Fun, age-agnostic bars. Feels like the top of the Maslow ladder to me.

Do we hafta go??!?

I admit, the sterile perfection of this country (which, in a complete reversal of South America, explicitly advises guests to PLEASE flush the toilet paper down the toilet rather than disposing of it elsewhere to maintain the hygienic standards) was getting to me a little bit…as in, “where’s the beef (or flaw or humanity)?” But I sure was grateful for it today when, upon returning from the Tolkien-like theatrical trail outside of our hotel room that provides a not-too-shabby place for morning reflections, I realized that I left my “bum” pak (ask us or Ruth Varney why we use that term) on the bench well within that walking trail.

In a frantic run that provided the only physical exertion I’ve had in the past several weeks, I high-footed it back to the bench, grimacing at all of the ED-TV Stepford wife nodding and smiling folks along the way only to find two travelers happily nestled on the bench.

“Is a bag there?” I asked desperately, searching for some culturally-neutral words to describe the container for my credit cards, camera and cash. “Oh yes — we were going to take it back into town when we were done.” Smile smile.