Sure enough, I found an article on page 124 and a gorgeous full page photograph on page 125. Feel free to browse Borders or Barnes and Noble for the December 2008 issue of TRAVEL + LEISURE Australia and New Zealand to check it out. That’s right folks, I clean toilets at a rather prestigious TRAVEL + LEISURE featured luxury lodge. 
ArchivePage 2 of 10
After arriving at work on Monday, I noticed the latest issue of TRAVEL + LEISURE Australia and New Zealand, the magazine sitting on a desk in the office. Caroline, one of the lodges most efficient receptionists informed me that Fiordland Lodge was featured in the magazine.
The internet lies. I am old to enough to have realized this truth long ago. But, I foolishly expected a corporate website (www.telecom.com) to accurately tell me whether or not I could buy a cell phone in Te Anau. I expected too much. As a result, I spent 1.5 hours online trying unsuccessfully to buy a phone because the site indicated that no Telecom dealers who sold cell phones were located within 1.75 hours of Te Anau. Frustrated, I asked my favorite local: Jo. She works at the Fiordland House outdoor clothing store. Jo quickly told me that their were two places in town that sell pre paid phones: one for each cell phone company in New Zealand. Thanks to her advice, we had a phone in our hands with in 10 minutes. It was simple
The moral here is simple. When you travel, especially in English speaking countries, ask your questions to a friendly local. you will get more accurate information, you will meet someone new, and you will save at least $NZ 3 on internet access.
A Few Words Regarding New Zealand Cell Phones
New Zealand, except for the amazing scenery and the lack of natural peanut butter, can begin to feel very much like home. I mean sure, New Zealanders drive on the left side of the road, refer to themselves as Kiwis, and obsess over Rugby, but these oddities are on par with some of the bizarre things I have witnessed in the States. All similarities end however, when it comes to cell phones. As a result of what I can only assume is either an infrastructure or monopoly issue, it is impossible to purchase a plan that will allow you to make calls on your cell phone without putting a sumo wrestler size whole in your monthly budget. For example, a 400 minute plan with Telecom that will allow you to make calls at anytime of the day or night will cost you $NZ 213.75 (about $US 115). If you were to go over your massive 400 minute a month allotment, Telecom would happily charge you $NZ 0.39 per minute (about $US 0.29). To make you feel better about selling your soul to the New Zealand cell phone mafia, Telecom does throw in 10 photo messages a month so you can assure your friends that you are alive but, in order to pay your phone bill, you have taken a 2nd job working nights cleaning out portable toilets. With a toothbrush. As a result, most New Zealanders use their cell phones to send text messages. It is possible to pay $NZ10 (about $US5.40) a month to send 500 text messages so this is clearly the economical option. Unlike in the States however, it does not cost you to receive calls on your cell phone. This makes it possible for your boss, doctor, or probation officer to call you from a land line as needed without costing you a cent. A neat idea really but not acceptable compensation for allowing the cell phone mafia to force a whole country to choose between buying groceries and talking on their cell phones.
New Zealand is roughly the size of Colorado with a population of about 4 million people. Logistically, creating a national cell phone infrastructure capable of handling this type of call volume should be child’s play. The Chinese, the Americans, the Europeans, heck even the Russians have figured out how to create solid cellular networks that provide affordable talking plans to their customers. What have the Kiwi cellular companies been doing for the last 10 years?!? Seriously.
Okay. This rant is finished. I promise. But, can you guess what type of plan Natalie and I went with?
On one of our days off, Justin and I decided to visit Invercargill. This is one of the closest major cities to Te Anau. You can take the fast way to Invercargill; the 2 lane (one for each direction) expressway, 94 out of Te Anau and if you drive like an American in New Zealand (faster than your average Kiwi) you should end up in Invercargill within an hour and a half. However, the New Zealand Atlas says it takes 2 hours and 25 minutes. I think that’s on a bad day, when a farmer decides to move one thousand of her sheep across the expressway.
View Larger Map
However, on our Friday off of work, we took the leisurely Southern Scenic Route (a road) to Invercargill. As we were driving Justin saw a sign that said Lake Monowai. He thought it would be fun to take a quick
diversion. About a half hour later we pulled up at a really small lake. I grew up in the Great Lake State (Michigan LINK) and frankly, I was unimpressed. Lake Monowai would be considered a pond by most Michiganders. So, Monowai rhyming with “Don’t know why”. I began to laugh at the humor
of the situation and sing my new song, “I don’t know why, we’re at Lake Monowai.” It can be sung to the Adams Family Tune if you are really desperate to sing along. Don’t forget to the “snap, snap”.
View Larger Map
However, on our Friday off of work, we took the leisurely Southern Scenic Route (a road) to Invercargill. As we were driving Justin saw a sign that said Lake Monowai. He thought it would be fun to take a quick
diversion. About a half hour later we pulled up at a really small lake. I grew up in the Great Lake State (Michigan LINK) and frankly, I was unimpressed. Lake Monowai would be considered a pond by most Michiganders. So, Monowai rhyming with “Don’t know why”. I began to laugh at the humor of the situation and sing my new song, “I don’t know why, we’re at Lake Monowai.” It can be sung to the Adams Family Tune if you are really desperate to sing along. Don’t forget to the “snap, snap”.
Several hundred thousand sheep, and a few tractors in the road later, we arrived in Invercargill. One of the bustling metropolises of the South Island, Invercargill is a city of 54,000 people with a great Brewery. The Invercargill Brewery. After driving in a few circles we found this tasty treasure and enthusiastically burst through the door where we were greeted by Jill. I kindly introduced ourselves and explained that we 
The brewery also welcomes a few individuals, known as the “Yeastie Boys”, every few months. The “Yeastie Boys” experiment and create a wide range of beers. After sampling ‘Golden Boy’ I was impressed by the bright flavor and smooth wheat taste. Also, it did not become bitter or flat at the end as is the nagging 
Justin and I support the local community wherever we live. If that support happens to occur at the local brewery than, all the better. In fact, after our time in Invercargill, Justin mentioned that if we ever end our nomad backpacking days and choose to settle down somewhere, having a Microbrewery nearby will be a selling point. Forget that! Why not start your own Microbrewery? The “Yeastie Boys” seem to be doing great. Their beer is available at The Malthouse in Wellington, which sounds awesome, I can’t wait to visit this establishment. I can only imagine that if beer I created was sold on tap, I’d visit often to see what the public thought of my latest creation. I hope to meet the “Yeastie Boys”, almost like backstage passes to the beer in concert in my mouth.
Perhaps, I could begin by learning from the pros and then apply my creativity, enthusiasm and beverage knowledge to create award winning beer? As a barista, I fell in love with the wild, intoxicating Espresso Love, brewed at The Corner Brewery, in Ypsilanti, Michigan. Really any coffee/beer combinations interest me a lot. The caffeinated brew is definitely worth trying.
If you are sitting reading this wondering what a Microbrery is like…I highly suggest Googling for one in your local area. You should find a rewarding educational experience on beer production and most likely have a FREE tasting session of many unique beers.
Let’s just say the Brewery sure beat Lake Monowai. Have a favorite Microbrewery? Tell me about it.
Nomad Update
For the next 3-4 months, Natalie and I will be living and working in the city of Te Anau, located on the West Coast of New Zealand in the South Island. We will spend the summer (yup, December through February is summer in the Southern Hemisphere) working at a 5 star lodge with a tremendous view of Fiordland National Park. Our work will basically entail, house keeping, serving (fine dining), bar tending, washing dishes, performing interior and exterior maintenance etc. Basically, we are seasonal “do what needs to get done” style lackies. No problem. map
Back to the Grind
Working full time in the hospitality/tourism industry is not a glamorous occupation. Like most jobs, it has its pros and cons but (also like most jobs) it has its fill of stress, pressure, and annoyances. Most people, except for some retired people who enjoy working for the sake of meeting people and having something to do (in New Zealand people call them “oldies”) work because they need a way to stay dry and eat (read: roof over their head and food in their tummies). Not more than two months ago, Natalie and I left good paying jobs and a comfortable life style to travel the world. So why are we taking a hiatus from wanderings to take up jobs in the New Zealand Tourist Industry? Good question. The answer at this point, is mostly theoretical and applies, not only to us, but to a special brand of people I like to call “Seasonals”.
Seasonals travel the world chasing a specific season, job or lifestyle. For example some ski instructors chase the winter, moving from the northern hemisphere to the southern and back again, in order to work in ski lodges around the globe. Other Seasonals chase the fruit picking season, and some Seasonals move through the different seasons working in whatever industry is most relevant to their geographic location. I have met numerous Seasonals on the road. They are not typically broke and, like retired people, often choose to work because they like too. Many Seasonals also have a means of living a more traditional lifestyle making good money in a developed country; they have simply chosen a wandering or nomadic lifestyle instead.
For a time, Natalie and I have chosen to become Seasonals. Although the money is nice to have (roughly $7-8 US per hour each) we are not in desperate need of cash. This money will help us however to extensively explore the Fiordland area without putting a massive hit on our Nomad budget. The next three months will also allow us to make friends with local New Zealanders: experiencing life from a more local, in depth perspective. Perhaps most important of all, working in the hospitably industry for 3 months will help us develop new skills that can be put to use around the globe while satisfying my curiosity regarding how a lodge/hotel works from the inside.
Reality Check
Putting aside my head in the clouds idealism for a moment, working a 40-60 hour a week job after 2 months of nomading it around the globe is a bit of a reality check. Our wandering life of trains, planes, and ferries, has abruptly been traded in for a rental house, a car (yeah Subi! see more subi pictures), and a cell phone. I even bought a
I like to work as I enjoy the feeling of accomplishment that comes with well…accomplishing something. Nomading, at times, makes me feel like a slacker whose life is made up of late afternoon naps, different beers (read: beercation) and stealing the occasional boat. Working provides a structure that is both strangely alluring and a bit depressing. Still, picking up a job, and the necessary stuff that has gone with it, at times leaves me looking longingly at my backpack and often stirs a strong desire to get back out on the open road.
While on Great Barrier Island, Justin and I were able to meet and become friends with Eliza Jones. She is really a phenomenal individual that you would just have to meet to be able to fully appreciate.
After obtaining our car, Justin and I needed to drive from Christchurch to the Fiordland National Park area,
So on Monday night, we showed up! Aimee invited us in, and emphasized that we could stay each night until Wednesday. We were not sure why she mentioned Wednesday, but dismissed it and assured her we would have to depart Tuesday morning because of the jobs we were taking for the summer. It wasn’t until the next day that Eliza Jones contacted us. It would seem that she screwed up and told Aimee we would be around Wednesday night. The initial surprise and excitement Aimee displayed in meeting us suddenly made more sense.
We had a blast with Aimee! The 3 of us enjoyed making a delicious pumpkin lasagna. Pumpkin seems to be cheap and readily available all throughout NZ. While we were hanging I continuously said things that Aimee did not understand. And she would say a phrase or a word that didn’t make sense to me. So, I began “the amusing list of American to Kiwi phrases and vocabulary”.
How to Speak Kiwi
Kiwi version on the left – American version to the right
flatmate/flattie roommate/roomie
bach (sounds like bit*h) beach house
jandels flip flops
slippers clogs
rubbish bin garbage can
were on the skulls were drinking on a mission
skull a beer chug a beer
pissed drunk
weedy skinny
capsicum bell pepper
courgette zucchini
boob tube tube top
plunger French press (for coffee)
stubbies running shorts
trim milk skim milk
is that crystal? is that clear?
Uni College (university)
nappies diapers
crunchies potato chips
chips fries
sunnies sunglasses
supi grocery store (super market)
omo mustache
biscuits cookies
Dairy Drug store
dial-a-meal take out
jam jelly
jelly jell-O
ear buds Q-tips
screen wipers wind shield wipers
At a Petro (Gas) Station attendants will approach your vehicle to pump gas and often ask, “What are you after?” We decided this means, “How much gas do you want me to pump into your car?” We have also sorted out why people looked at us funny when we mentioned we bought a Subaru. You see, here in NZ it’s pronounced Saah-BAR-eww (with the emphasis on the “B”).
It’s been a fun process of learning new vocabulary and trying to comprehend and decipher various accents. The list of differences between American English and New Zealand English could probably go on forever. At least with my helpful and amusing list you can now know that when a Kiwi says they were pissed, they were not upset, they simply drank to much alcohol. If someone asks for the plunger, they don’t have a toilet problem, they just want some coffee. And if a Kiwi invites you to visit their bach (bit*h) for the weekend, just say yes, it will be a beautiful weekend on the beach.
Whether reading a Kiwi author for the first time or choosing to visit NZ, my advice is to simply guess what people are trying to say and if it isn’t “crystal”, just ask.
Yesterday, Natalie and I purchased a 1998 Subaru Legacy. Yup, its a station wagon. Allow me to explain. In most places in the world, the idea of purchasing a car for 3-6 months is a luxury. However in New Zealand (and Australia), used cars can be purchased on the cheap and offer the avid traveler an infinite amount of flexibility to cheaply travel the country.
Nomad Backpackers has now gone mobile. Seriously mobile.
The Subaru Low Down
Here are the relevant specifications for our new car.
- 1998 Subaru Legacy
- 269,000 Kilometers or 167,148 miles
- 5 speed manual
- 2 Liter engine
- 4 wheel drive
- Power doors/locks/mirrors
- Full size spare
- Cd player tape deck combo
- Air conditioning
If your are interested in the gory details of buying a car in New Zealand, see below. If you want to know the quick and dirty way to buy a car in New Zealand, keep reading.
The Quick and Dirty
First, get yourself to Christchurch. Many backpackers are selling cars in Christchurch and this is where you will 
How to Buy a Car in New Zealand
Many of the people that we have met in New Zealand talk about how travelers come to New Zealand, buy cars, 
Buy a car in Christchurch
Many backpackers buy cars in Auckland (where they start) and sell them in Christchurch (their last stop before flying to Auckland and leaving the country). If you try to buy a car in Christchurch, their is a much larger market and prices are cheaper.
Get an Inspection
Buying a used car is like playing Russian Roulette. Take some of the risk out of the game and get an inspection
- www.aa.co.nz ($NZ130 at inspection center $NZ 145 for the mechanic to come to you)
Obtain a VIR (Vehicle Information Report)
This is basically the New Zealand Version of Car Fax. Make sure the car is not stolen, see the previous owners, etc
Check the WOF (Warranty of Fitness)
In New Zealand, every car needs a warranty of fitness to prove that it is road worthy. For cars older than 6 years, this needs to occur every 6 months. When buying a used car, make sure the vehicle has at least 5 months left on its WOF.
Current License
All cars need a current license (similar to a license and registration in the states). In New Zealand, this is tied to the car and not the driver. Thus, a used car should be properly plated and licensed with at least 6 months to go before the license runs out.
Transfer of Ownership
This painless procedure can be performed at the New Zealand Post Office for $NZ 25. If you want to officially own the car (and why would you choose otherwise) pay the money and get this done.
Insurance
Fire and Theft insurance is all you need to cover you for insurance. This protects any cars that you hit and it also covers you if your car is broken into or happens to catch on fire.
That is it, if you can get all this done, you are ready to wander freely about New Zealand. Congratulations!
The following short tales are true stories from my time on Great Barrier Island, New Zealand.
Belly Dancing at the Pub
On Tuesday morning while cleaning around the Pub, Nina began to discuss the possibilities of performing some night. You see, Fanina (Nina) is a professional belly dancer. She is one of the most talented dancers I have ever met, and I have even performed with the American Ballet Theater at the Detroit Opera House.
She decided that Wednesday had to be the night! You see, Justin and I departed from Great Barrier Island Thursday afternoon. She wanted to make sure she utilized Justin’s percussion abilities on the large bongo drums in the pub. Yes, it’s strange, Irish Pub with bongo drums? But it’s New Zealand!
Nina soon discovered my vocal abilities and asked me to sing Arabic (something new to me) and be a part of the evening entertainment.
What an awesome night! The locals on the Barrier had never even dreamed of the cultural experience they were able to enjoy. Justin, hit that drum! And now I’ll sing in Arabic any time a belly dancer asks. And Nina, girl, you shake it.
What is a Kina? YES THIS IS WORTH READING
One day, Justin and I headed out to walk along Medlands Beach (the place where all the surfers talk about). Steve, the local who was giving us a lift suggested that it would be more enjoyable for us if he dropped us of at Kaitoke Beach. He told us that Kaitoke and Medlands are connected by an easy to find sandy path and this would allow us to spend more time walking on the beach. We were hooked. The problem started when we got to the end of Kaitoke Beach. Where was the path to Medlands? We were not able to find a nice sandy path but I did discover a number of rocky cliffs that lead out into the water and off in the direction of Medlands. I was feeling especially adventurous and I convinced Justin it would not be too dangerous. We hiked and climbed along the dangerous rock ledges that were exposed by the outgoing tide. All was going well until Justin 
I was in serious pain as I scrambled back to the safety of the rock cliffs. When I reached Justin, I sat down and howled and cried. This phase lasted several minutes. Recognizing that I was not able to walk either back the way I had come or forward, I began the process of removing the most painful spikes from the bottom of my foot. This was painful and led to another series of crying sessions. Luckily, I had scooped up a sea shell on Kaitoke beach and was able to use this as a tool to remove spikes. Although I was not able to remove all of the spikes, I pulled enough of those painful little jerks out of my foot to allow me to walk (or hobble) along. Justin and I quickly realized that we would not be able to reach Medlands with my injured foot: so we started climbing up. We were able to scrambled 3/4’s of the way up the cliff but we were then forced, due to the sheerness of the cliff face, to scale the remaining quarter. No problem right. Justin and I are both experienced climbers and this did not appear to be a very difficult climb.
Ignoring Justin’s warnings about caution, I began climbing quickly up the face of the cliff: eager to remove the remaining painful spikes from my right foot. I climbed up several holds and was hanging with my body attached to the rock face. I reached my right hand upward for the next hold and pulled down firmly while kicking up with my right foot. Suddenly, my handheld gave way and a basketball sized rock fell on my head. I was not having a good day. I quickly scaled back down the cliff and, together with Justin re-examined the situation. We eventually decided on a route and carefully climbed the last quarter of the cliff. In truth, this was not all that smart as the rocks were not stable and few of our hand holds were actually solid. But eh, that is why we travel with World Nomads right?
To sum up this rambling story, we got to the top of the cliff and waded half a mile through tall grass until we found a road. Along the way, to add insult to injury, I stepped in a half petrified pile of cow crap. With my injured right foot. I was pissed. On the road, Craig (a local surfer and a regular at the pub) picked us up, took one look at my foot and told me I needed to go the Medical Center. Direct quote, “Ewww nasty kina, that’s gonna go septic, gonna have to go to the med center.” Apparently, Kina spikes have barbs that often detach deep in the flesh of it’s unsuspecting victim. If left in, this would cause my foot to swell up to the point where I would be forced to limp everywhere. Thus, as the locals say, septic. We made it to the Medical Center where the doctor spent 1.5 hours digging around in my foot with a blunt instrument. Eventually, he had to give me local anesthetic to get all of the barbs out of my foot.
One of the only highlights from this experience was Majtejn (pronounced Ma-Teen), another local surfer who is a regular at the pub and is dating the chef. He volunteered to take us to the Medical Center, when Craig pulled up with Justin and I to where the surfers were getting ready to hit the surf. Plus, he waited the whole 1.5 hours for us to be done and drove us back to the pub. What a nice guy. Sarah, the chef, is now dating the local hero.
Can’t touch this!
Within one hour of removing the bandage, a Kiwi named Eliza Jones and I went swimming with the dolphins. It was awesome! Six of us were playing Frisbee. I know, laugh it up! The Frisbee was our dinner plate many evenings in Europe, I had to step on a Kina to save it and now we were playing with this ultimate Frisbee.
Suddenly, we became distracted by dolphins jumping in the water nearby. Eliza Jones and I were the only 2 brave enough to jump in the freezing cold water. We swam about 200 yards out to the area where the dolphins were playing. I sang songs under the water and splashed like a Titanic survivor to attract them. It 
Natalie and I set out yesterday, accompanied by our new friends and fellow WOOFERS Michael and Fanina, to hike the Mount Hobson summit trail. (Natalie and I had attempted to do this last Monday, but we were waylaid by an adventure with Dr. Peter.) Inspite of the fact that local fisherman assured us that it would definitely rain all day, we arrogantly ignored their warnings and headed out to summit Mount Hobson. After catching a lift to Grey Road, we walked for 2.5 hours before we came to the Tramline trail head. (Before reaching the trail head, we had already hiked 9 miles) As we had expected to get a lift to the trail head and were growing increasingly
concerned about whether or not we would be able to catch a lift back to Tryphrena, we opted to hike along the Tramline to the Hot Springs which would let us out relatively close to Claris. We thought we were being smart by opting to hike through the middle of the island instead of following the parameter. As luck would have it, the rain began as we reached the trail head. This type of dark luck would haunt us for the rest of the day.
Informational packets on the the Barrier, warned that the Tramline track would have limited trail markers but that people of average fitness would have no problem navigating the trail. It would appear that average physical fitness here in New Zealand is equivalent to a Louis and Clark style fitness in the United States. This became increasingly apparent as we navigated a trail that commonly contained 60-70 degree downward clay paths that possessed the type of traction usually reserved for icy ski slopes after an ice storm, 65-75 degree upward inclines that required us to scramble on hands and feet up wet clay slopes, and 10-15 river fording that left my shoes with that annoying squeaky sound usually associated with the mixing of small children and large puddles.
When we arrived at the hot springs, I was soaking wet, muddy, bleeding freely from my right elbow and happy to be alive. We spent 30 minutes relaxing, drying off and gathering our strength (read: skinny dipping) for the 75 minute walk to Claris. Luckily, the rain had stopped and we were feeling optimistic. After about 45 minutes, while we were out on the road, the rain started falling cold and fast. All four of us were quickly soaked through to the skin and shivering from the icy blasts of wind that accompanied the rain. Seriously, it was really really 
I suppose that many lessons could be learned from this series of unfortunate events (read: listen to locals) but I learned once again that life is what you make of it. This could have been a truly miserable experience with the rain, the clay, the near death experiences and the endless, Oregon Trail style walking. However, Natalie, Michael, Fanina and I had an wonderful experience. Sure we arrived back cold and tired, but we saw a large portion of the island, bonded together as friends, and enjoyed our day off.
When life gives you wet clay, ah…..err….. make pottery.
We set out the other day to climb Mount Hobson via the Windy Canyon route. From Claris, we caught a lift with Peter, a retired doctor who later admitted that he only picked us up because Natalie has nice legs. Peter is a slow speaking, careful driving impulsive man with somewhat bizarre metaphysical theories that revolve around the healing power of love and bioelectric energy. Initially, Peter had only planned on driving us to Grey’s road, north-east of Claris. As Peter was letting us out, Natalie kindly offered up my web design services for Peter’s blossoming non-profit organization. Unexpectedly, this caused Peter to grow very excited. He demanded that we get back in the car (4Runner), saying that we were going to Port Fitzroy. Port Fitzroy is a rather far distance from the Windy Canyon path, but hitch hiking often leads to unexpected events. Adventure is found by those who grasp for it. With little idea what would happen next, we hopped back into the car.
Peter mumbled something about a Land Rover and began driving in the opposite direction. We quickly arrived at an auto yard and pulled up next to a Land Rover from the 1960’s. Peter alluded to the idea that the Land 
Soon, we were roaring off in the Beast. Come to find out, Peter was on a mission to steal a decaying boat from the side of the road in Port Fitzroy. He wanted to put it on his front yard and paint it orange. Apparently, this is all the rage in Brazil where Peter had recently visited. We drove all the way to Port Fitzroy, conducting a 
After only 2 weeks in New Zealand we had become thieves by association. Yikes!
Recently, Justin and I received an email from Gillian, a long term subscriber (3 months or so, wink wink!) inquiring about what we have learned. Her and her husband are currently selling their house and making plans for their own life style change of long term travel.
Gillian wrote:
Hey guys, now that you have been on the road for 1 month and 14 days, I
wonder if you can comment on some of your newly gained knowledge and what you
would have done differently before you left. For example, what do you
think now of your packing list after lugging it around for 6 weeks? Are you
traveling according to plan or was all that planning just an exercise in
building excitement? Any tips or tricks so far?
Cheers,
Gillian
My response:
Our new lifestyle has certainly led to some humbling experiences. Justin and I have made mistakes. Learning to live with undesirable situations one at a time.
One recent example occurred at a hostel in Auckland. Don’t stay at Queens Street Backpackers! Everything seemed great until we went to make dinner. The kitchen had no community food like olive oil, salt, pepper, nothing! Cooking suddenly became rather challenging with our limited materials. However, saying that the kitchen was under stocked is an understatement, as the kitchen had no dish soap, or any soap, as well as no towels or any means of drying dishes. We asked around and the staff informed us that they had ran out of dish soap yesterday. What!?!
Our second problem was that we were returning to our room to sleep before having to wake up at 5 am to catch the freight ferry to Great Barrier Island, and we discovered that the hostel was directly above a popular Auckland club on Guy Faux Day (popular British holiday also celebrated by the Kiwi’s)!
Through the horror that we have faced at this hostel, we decided it would be beneficial to format a loose checklist to run through at the reception before checking in for a night. In truth, we should have been doing this from the start be we simply got lazy.
The Boyd Family Hostel Check List:
- Location (Club/Bar nearby, etc)
- Prices (per person, specials, etc)
- Is their a lock out?
- Does the kitchen close? What time?
- Wi fi? If not, what will you charge me for internet (if available)?
- Kitchen (clean, FREE food zone, available utensils, sharp knives, etc)
- Let me see the room…lighting, carpet, test bed (ask locals about bed bugs), hangers, places to hang stuff, etc
- If dorm…can I secure my pack?
- Is their a bar inside the hostel (this can be a negative and attractive youth binge drinkers)
- Is their a common room without a television? We like to meet new people and T.V. often distracts discussions.
- any FREE meals (we have seen both breakfast and dinner offered FREE)
- Tradable book library?
- Extra’s to pay (not just leave a deposit on, but pay for): towels, sheets, secure luggage room or storage
It might sound like overload, but it should prove to be beneficial in avoiding extreme problems in the future. Staying in a hostel is an adventure. It can be extremely rewarding to share life with others and discuss cultural differences or similarities (like the Simpsons). Also while engaging in discussions that occur in hostel communities it’s a great resource to learn about where other people have been and the experiences (including mistakes) that they have learned from. We have even met entire families (mom, dad and the kids) from countries all around the world. It is not only 20-something’s that stay at hostels but they can be rather intergenerational. Overall, the hostel experience is one I would recommend to anyone. Read about our first stay at a hostel.
Now as for what we brought with us…as we left we felt as though we were bringing very little. But beware! It’s easy to accumulate things as you go. Just now (not exaggerating), Louise walked up to me and gave me Guinness dice. We are at the Irish Pub on Great Barrier Island, in New Zealand, not to be confused with our time in Ireland, although Louise is from Ireland. She wants me to have the 2 dice, as a gift. “It’s so small.” Should I accept this gift from her? Even little things add up quickly in a backpack. That’s it! I will have to give them to a local before leaving the Barrier.”
We have lost our cork screw, pocket knife, laundry rope, some of our plastic zip ties, a medal butter knife , and a few other things as a result of airport security. So, that’s a quick and easy way to lighten your pack too.
To finish answering Gillian’s questions, overall we feel as though we prepared as best as we could. Our plans of getting 12 month work holiday visas in New Zealand worked. After having many Kiwi’s tell us that it is really hard for American’s to get them, and others tell us that once you are 25, they basically don’t give them out, we felt all the more blessed to each receive the long term visa.
Justin’s 26, I am going to be 25 in less than 3 months, and we are not going to get any less American. But it worked! So, plan, dream and plans are sometimes dependent upon which countries will give you visas, and how long you can stay.
