Entry 2
I restart this entry after a computer crash that wiped out my previous attempt at an update..
I'm now on a bus traveling from Picton
to Christchurch. It's been an event-filled couple of weeks, including
Los Angeles, where Julien in the midst of several personal crises...
still had time to attend to his friend on (mostly) and off (once for
a long time) for 30 years. Waiheke island, where Reneta made me
several meals a day and the only payment expected was my changing
into a bathing suit to help wash the porch screens. Wellington where
Mr. (and Mrs) Sterile took care of me like a long-lost punkrock
friend.
Right now, the computer is on the
blink. It shuts down and loses everything if the bus goes over a
bump... and bump is the name of the game. The Internet is spotty in
this mountainous land of 4.5 million people who walk barefoot on
public streets. Where all the signs are in English, with an
abbreviated version in Maori... which had no written language until
the English transcribed it using English letters.
I don't think I've heard Maori spoken
on the street, though I have heard German, Chinese, Swedish, some
unidentifiable Slavic language and New Yorkese (“You talkin' to me?
Fuhgeddabouddit!”). I've made it to Christchurch, the biggest city
on the South Island. I hear there's a synagogue in town... it's long
been my dream to take a picture of a synagogue in Christchurch. The
irony is just too good to pass up.
I've been on the road for 18 days
now... one in a hostel. It's the kindness of friends that bed me down
every night (not THAT WAY!) and from start to now I have to thank:
Julien (LA in the fire)
Renata (Waiheke & Aukand)
Kieren & Chrissy (Wellington)
Vera (Christchurch)
I've been traveling in New Zealand
using the INTERCITY BUS SYSTEM. It works like this:
You buy TIME in advance. For example, I
bought 45 hours. Then you reserve a bus from Y to Z and they deduct
the time it SHOULD take to go that distance. When you get to zero,
you can “top off” buying extra hours.
The buses are more comfortable than
Mega or Bolt... but they have no electrical sockets. (Which are weird
here anyway. They look something like a facebook SURPRISE emoji.)
The “wi-fi” on board is pretty
spotty, but that's what you get most places with a lot a mountains
and few people. Most annoying, however, is the bus schedule.
Yesterday, on the trip from Picton to Christchurch, the bus left at
7:30... AM!!! Oh yeah please be at the busstop at least 15 minutes
early to check-in with the driver.
From Christchurch I go to Nelson, and
the leaving time? 7AM??? Are they kidding? That's bedtime! What? Do
we have to milk the cows before we leave?
I booked a hostel the night before so I
could be close to the bus station.
“Don't worry,” says Vera, “I'll
take you. You can cancel your reservation.”
“But that means getting up at 5:30 in
the morning!” I say.
“No problem,” says Vera.
Like the others... I owe her big time.
Ah well, today was the sixth day of
Chanukah. Vera's maternal grandmother was Jewish, so that means she's
a Jew. Her friend Susan... visiting for dinner is also a Jew... a
doctor! Vera had a menora... probably gotten in New York. No Chanukah
candles in sight, but the age-old birthday candle trick worked like a
dream. Waddaya think?
--more later
If you're interested in my nastier,
more political writing, you can read me at:
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