Journey to the Center of New Zealand Part 2

Journey to the Center of New Zealand

Part 2: A latte with a side of water bazooka

After the bug museum we head off to eat.

[ASIDE] I forgot to mention that entry to the bug museum was free for Kael because he was a Nelson native... and free for me because I was accompanied by a Nelson native.

“Let's go to the kitchen,” suggests Kael.

“We're already in town,” I explain. “The kitchen is back home...” I gesture with my thumb over my shoulder, “through winding roads, over mountains... past llamas.”

“No,” he says, “The kitchen... THE KITCHEN. Connor said it was good.

“Where is the kitchen?” I ask Google, confident it would tell me “next to the dining room.”

I was wrong. It gave me an address and a little map... so off we went. Not far from where Alistair, Kael's dad who I'm probably spelling wrong... has his downhill bike office.

I could see why Connor (Kael's older brother) recommended it. Plenty of vegan choices for the vegan siblings... Tolerent Kael didn't flinch when I had something nice with salmon in it. I ordered a ginger beer and Kael wanted some fruit thing.

STOP: Let me explain the system in New Zealand... It's similar to a few places in the US... and the same as MosBurger in Japan. You go to the counter, and order your food. Then you pay and get a number at the end of a metal pole that looks like a giant old-fashioned bill-spike. You pay for the meal and take the numbered spikey thing to your table. The waiter/ess finds you by your number.

I like to eat/drink outside. Kael was accommodating. We took a seat. Near us was a small cart with two shelves. On the top shelf were dirty dishes, probably just cleaned from the tables. On the second shelf, were two large green water pistols, and a huge water bazooka.

“Can I order a water bazooka on the side... like ketchup or hot sauce?” I asked Kael.

“They're called BLASTERS,” he tells me. “Sure you can.”

“Do kids come home... soaking wet... after going out with their friends... saying Hey Mom, I went out with my friends and got sooooo BLASTERED?” I ask.

“Sure,” he says, “happens all the time.”

Here comes the waitress with our food. Kael has ordered a vegan tart with his vegan sandwich.

“Can I get you anything else,” asks the waitress... one of those darker pretty women whose short shorts reveal that her legs go all the way down from her hip to her ankle.

“Yes please,” I say. “I'd like some hotsauce and a water blaster.”

“Sure,” she says, “you want a plain or a bazooka.”

“Uh...” I stutter. “I was kidding. Why exactly do you have water pistols in an outdoor restaurant?”

“For the seagulls, of course” she answers... like I'd asked why they serve food in an outdoor restaurant.

“The seagulls shoot water pistols?”

Kael kicks me under the table.

“It keeps them off the tables... we like to shoot them without actually hurting them.... They steal food and make poo over everything.”

[NOTE: POO is New Zealandish for SHIT. I've also heard the word in American places outside of New York... But I think it's an affectation.]

I open my mouth to say something else, but Kael kicks me again.

Okay, Mykel. Time to go to the OTHER MUSEUM... and the park. But what's this CENTER stuff? You'll find out!

--- next time: Is That The World's Longest Freshwater Eel in Your Pocket or Are You Happy to See Me?

This is chapter 2. Check out chapter one here