Turning Point

I set out in search of the Kauri yesterday morning, and I told Sophia EXACTLY where I wanted to go. I even double-checked to make sure she knew what I wanted. So an hour into driving, I notice I'm going the wrong direction. Evidently, if two different locations have a street with the same name, Sophia thinks she can go ahead and choose whichever she fancies. So I turned her off, and headed back north to find the trees. Unfortunately, after about another hour or so of driving through winding mountain roads at speeds between 15mph and 28mph, I had to use the restroom, which was quite obviously non-existant out in the middle of the mountains. Quite used to it, I looked for the first place on the side of the road to pull over. I found a picnic area, but there were people eating there, so I continued onward until about a mile down the road I found a spot with a lot of brush. I slipped on my flip flops and, as I was heading down a little bank, got my foot tangled in a vine that was covered in thorns which ultimately found a new home in my toes and foot. Triage time. Bathroom or bleeding foot? I chose the former and then tended to the latter which had about ten thorns in it and was bleeding far more than I'd expected it to be.



I was getting annoyed with today's plans.



I decided that this was it and if I didn't get to the forest in a bit that I would turn back and head off to Auckland early. So I drove, and drove, and then started to get very tired. Of course I needed to heed the warnings that "Fatigue Kills", right? So I decided that if finding the Kauri (a local suggested I go to Coramandel rather than the northwest) was going to be more of a chore and make my day miserable, that it pretty much wasn't worth it. Don't get me wrong, I was all about seeing the Kauri, but I scrapped my initial itinerary in the beginning of the trip for such reasons as this. I was heading upwards towards a beach when it started to pour and I decided to turn back. On the way back, however, I stumbled upon a nice little waterfall walk. They don't seem to have as many trails and walks on the side of the road here as did the South Island, most likely because it's more populated here and there are other means for rest stops. So I pulled over and wandered down the trail. I'd quickly forgotten that some of the best parts of my travels weren't necessarily the ultimate destinations, but were all the little stops along the way that cut up the journey. Once I completed my walk, I got on the road and headed for Auckland.

So everything's going just fine as I'm driving along Highway 2 when, pink, another rock hits my windshield, this one leaving a nice 12 inch crack down the middle. This was certainly not an improvement to my day. So I just let God have it, and keep going. I arrived in Auckland, and immediately decided that I don't much fancy it here. Perhaps it was because when I got off the motorway and Sophia could not navigate me around roads that had been blocked off for a cycling race (damn cyclists--isn't it interesting how the little things that we enjoy so much can easily annoy us?), and I had to locate another motor park for my last night with the car. I finally arrive at a nice little camper park in an Auckland suburb and stay here the night. I got all my plans squared away by searching online and even tracked down a hostel near the post office so that I could ship back some of the bulkier items that I won't need for Australia's warmer climate, plus it's only about a mile walk to where I need to be to start my surf tour on Monday. Otherwise I'd have to take a cab to the airport where their only FedEx drop-off is which doesn't open until 8:30am, then get back in time for my 10:00 departure. This way I can get it all taken care of and not waste too much time or money. The Oceanic Hostel. Nice, right?

So I drove here first thing to see if they had a vacancy for tonight, and they did. But, you know, there's a reason to worry a tad bit when the reception desk has a grate screen around it. It can't be that bad, I think to myself. I mainly go up to the room to use the bathroom, which wasn't that bad. Then I see the room. "Well," I think to myself, "just go out into the city for a while and you won't have to deal with it." So I walk down to the harbor to find out where my tour departs tomorrow. You know you're in a sketchy part of town when you have a place called Show Girls two blocks away. I was staying in the Auckland ghetto, no doubt about it. Convenience carries a heavy price. So I continued to the harbor, because being near the water fixes everything. I was somewhat saddened when I got down to the harbor and saw loads of crap floating in it, especially with how environmentally conscious of a country it is. But I quickly decided that I could be disgruntled by the past few days, or I could not let it spoil how great it's all been with a few exceptions. So I walked over to the i-site and I booked an afternoon of sailing on the NZL41. Before the departure, however, I went to the hostel and took in a few items that I wouldn't mind being stolen, but needed to get out of the car before I returned it.

Once out on the sailboat, the water did solve everything and make it better. I even got to get on the grinders and do a bit of steering. Quite a nice experience, and I think I was the only chick who tried her hand at grinding. Upon returning, I hurried back to the hostel, unloaded some more stuff, filled the car with gas, and was off to get the car and Sophia back to the rental place. I soon spoke to the guy at the front desk and told him about the chip and the crack. Even though I opted for the partial pay option for additional insurance coverage, it turned out that the cost for repairs was low enough that I didn't have to pay anything. Boy, you have no idea how relieved I was! I took a cab back to the harbor from the car hire, and sat outside with my newest addiction, a Chai latte, trying to avoid what I knew I'd eventually have to face. Around 5:45pm, I wobbled down the street with my backpack that has a larger girth than do I, and thought of how to better this situation. I got up to my room, and just looked at it. Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. And I didn't even pay any less for here than I paid at other hostels! (Side note: I think I just killed a flea on me as I sit here typing this.) Anyhow, I sat (actually I stood; I have yet to actually sit on anything in there) in my room and tried to decide what to keep and what to send home. After about an hour of this, I realized that I had not actually eaten anything except for the latte and some left over red pepper and avocado since this morning. I immediately decided that in such a situation, a girl needs to go out. But first I had to make a trip to the grocery store. What did I get, you ask? Paper towels and disinfectant spray. The plus about staying in a place like this is that you'll likely not have any other roomies because everybody in town except for you knows better. So I retrun to my room, spray the bed linens, the door knobs, the carpet, and the pillow. Then, I cover the bed with paper towels and encase the pillow with the plastic bag from the market and cover it with paper towels as well. Ahhh, there we go, nice clean bed linens! And now I know I have to face something else. I have been out all day, in the heat and sun, sweating and getting dirty, and I must shower. It's not that I want to shower, but it would simply be unacceptable for me to go out like this. (As I sit here, I am reminded of another detail of this accomodation: the pipes moan and groan in angst with every flush or rinse of the hands in the sink. It sounds like a terrible tuba player.) Anyhow, I take with me my toiletries, shower flip-flops, the disinfectant spray, and the remaining paper towels because I refuse to take my towel in there and chance dropping it.

By this point, you might be thinking that I'm a spoiled, prissy girl who can't handle roughing it. Oh no, I can rough it just fine. I can be out in nature. I can deal with outdoor bugs. I even applied the five second rule to a toothbrush that fell on the bathroom floor a few nights ago at the camper park. But I wouldn't apply the five second rule to a hairbrush that fell on the floor here. If you call the need for simple hygeine and sanitary conditions being prissy, then a priss I am. Channel seven news would be all over this! Anyhow, I ventured down to the showers and found a new level of disgust. I sprayed down the shower and everything else I had to touch in there. I started out with it full blast, but quickly discovered that the pipes were starting to groan again, and that the water was pooling at my feet. Knowing that these showers likely doubled as a toilet, I turned the water to a mere trickle to let it all drain. Afterwards, upon returning to my room, I disinfected my shower shoes. Yes, it was that bad. Anyhow, my friend had suggested the Skytower, and I decided that in order to feel better, I might have to put on some nice clean clothes and go to a nice clean place, and have some nice clean fun (no stopping at Show Girls for me). So I did this, and I balanced out my day of oatmeal, avocado, pepper, and latte, with another latte and some raspberry tarts while enjoying a spectacular view of Auckland. You could see the lights of buildings and cars and business twinkling for miles around, out as far as the eye could see. And, ah, over there where the police lights are flashing, that's where my hostel is.

Well, I must be up early in the morning. Not just to be places, but to get out of places. There is plus to this place: It's not Hotel California, and I'll be able to check out in the morning. But what to do about the growing number of bug bites on me.....