Woodville… Driving…

April 4, 2016May 10, 2016
by KandE

In our noble quest for lifelong learning, we got drunk. But damn me if I didn’t take notes along the way! I now know that “legs” on a wine are largely meaningless, that some varietals have the same chemical structure and smell as cat piss, and that you really do have to pretentiously swirl to unlock every flavor. Tadaaa!

Yesterday was vineyard day in Hawke’s Bay: NZ’s 2nd most celebrated growing region. We chose our first farm on the basis that we were lost, I was thirsty, and it was within sight. We had a friendly and informative pourer, a prime spot in the sun, and we walked away toting a $20 bottle of white.

Our 2nd winery was chosen for their logo, on an area map boasting 31 different cellar doors. I had high hopes for this one, not only from the vintage prop plane slapped up on their shingle, but also deriving from the luscious reams of toilet paper they had stocked in their bathroom. (I’m easily impressed these days.) We learned little of wine at #2, but gleaned all sorts of tidbits about our designated employee’s personal life.

From there we had planned to round out our afternoon with one last tasting, but after our last disappointment and a chance encounter with a gypsy caravan, we changed course. Instead of another round of “Mmm, yummy!” we bought a bag of 10 “American style” donuts and watched fire twirlers. From there we drove to the ocean and set up camp. The end.

-K

^ Complete with stars and stripes. HA! In case you were wondering, “HOT FRESH AMERICAN DONUTS” are simply fair donuts.

^ Vino + vino

NOT TIMARU!

March 4, 2016March 5, 2016
by KandE

I envisioned celebrating this moment by spraying champagne bubbles from atop the van, the peachy foam cascading down my bikini top in waves of joy.

For real.

I even bought a new one. A bright, cheery cross between coral and mandarin to align with the color scheme of the decor. (It was only $10. On clearance. That magical “c” word.) But instead of celebrating, we are quietly enduring. One flimsy glass of wine. Sagging sweatpants, the picture of defeat.

It’s one thing to toss around hypothetical sums in one’s head. To mentally deduct a figure from one’s bank account, 2 weeks in advance as preparation. But it’s quite another when a young girl with bottle black hair and too much eyeliner says the words seven THOUSAND sixty-one.. AND EIGHTY-SIX CENTS. Her voice is casual. Even. The same tone as if we’d just pumped $17 of diesel into the tank and could get away with sliding a single, rumpled note across the counter.

My hands tremble as I scribble out the signatures that indicate my legal approval. YES, they say! Proceed! I didn’t care about that particular portion of savings anyway! Impassively, the clerk looks on. She doesn’t get it. She must be too young. A name tag with too many redundant, cutesy consonants precludes her from true understanding. She produces the wan smile perfected by customer service employees that hate their job, and slides our 2 receipts across to us–I don’t carry a card that allows single transactions of that gargantuan size–stapled to an invoice 3 pages long.

I’m happy to have Paula back. There’s only so many times you can trick yourself into believing that the traffic outside your window is really a rolling ocean. But this does mean I’ll have to switch back to cage eggs to compensate. The bikini though–that stays. I’m only able to sacrifice so much.

-K

^ Wine for the win. Junkyard edition. Our home for the past 2 weeks. SEE YA, NEVER.

From the handles of his walker, his shopping lay suspended in plastic bags. Six trays of meat and a bottle of ketchup.

February 25, 2016February 26, 2016
by KandE

Our social circle is expanding and we are THRIVING in Timaru. Our best friend count has now increased to TWO today with the new addition of Charlie.

When he first sat down beside us, full of lopsided grins and good manners, I disregarded him as just another elderly fellow with a walker needing a rest. I wasn’t planning on having any manner of extended conversation beyond pleasantries, as I was planted on that particular bench to swipe Wifi from the nearby grocery store. But MAN, when Charlie asked us if we wanted to see something that would “freak us out,” a dialogue really opened up. After the invitation to view his left foot, sans shoe, four of five little piggies permanently off to market, we were instantly bonded. From there he proceeded to tell us about his blood clots, hospitalization, and getting hit by a car, while he cracked open a bourbon and cola mixer. (No stories, however, about the 4 missing teeth.)

Between sips, our new pal took care to politely ask about us as well. When he heard we were Americans his excitement could hardly be contained, quizzing us to see if we’d been to Brooklyn and if we knew Neil Diamond. This was the pivotal moment when our newfound friendship became official, and he formally introduced himself. Outstretching his right hand, showing off the faded spiderweb inked across the back, the three of us shook hands, sharing open smiles. Our intimacy only grew from there as the topic turned to tender love. “So, are you going to marry her?” he questioned Eric, his head swiveling spastically between the two of us. My love let out an embarrassed chuckle before countering, “I don’t know, should I?” “Of course!” replied our new friend, eyes bulging as he sagely counseled us on our future. “Of course you should get married!” After thanking him for his guidance and advice, we parted ways, both parties smiling, shaking their heads.

-K

^ Speaking of alcohol… and a first! Red, red wiiiiine! Strictly NZ, however. Gotta drink local, support the economy. Doing the duty.

Timaru

February 21, 2016February 23, 2016
by KandE

Calm. That’s the word. Sometimes relaxed, but mostly calm. This has been my assigned label for the past several years by casual acquaintances and coworkers. I get it. Sort of. But it just means we’ve never played a board game together, nor engaged in any kind of competitive activity. Rolling dice, dealing cards, cracking a croquet ball, and I’m likely a raging menace. Which is why after 171 recorded games of rummy, Eric is calling for a cessation in game play.

… I get it.

I want to be cool, I do. I’m not proud of the number of times I’ve overturned boards and pieces during family game nights. I’m still embarrassed by that afternoon when I was 14, throwing a miniature golf club manically around hole #12 in town, with my daddio vowing to never bring me back again. I have managed to rein in my bad behavior over the years, but this new rummy obsession has been my un-fucking-doing. Eric is the enemy. I’m demented with my desire to win. I now require deep breaths and closed eyes to restrain my impulses to throw cards and bang fists upon every dramatic loss. And I think what the eff is going on?
.

For the record: on truly important matters in life, my behaviors are much more mature and optimistic. I’m not usually such a demon, I promise.

-K

^Speaking of undoings, let’s chat about how making mushroom and butternut risotto with Bulgarian sheep’s feta should only be attempted by the bravest of campervan cooks. Nightmare. But a delicious one.

Wakiti

February 10, 2016February 17, 2016
by KandE

Let me preface this entry by saying Eric, I love you.
Now that we have that out of the way…

Tempers are hot, tension is high, and insignificant skirmishes are beginning to erupt with increased frequency. My beloved is continually stressed out by van repairs + maintenance (overheating, dying batteries, a broken blinker, oil leaks, and two holes in the floor both discovered and created) while I am suffering from a distinct lack of personal space. Being an introvert I should have expected this, should have been prepared with proper coping mechanisms. But I didn’t. And I’m still figuring out ways to be cool when Eric’s foot trods on mine during dinner or when he head butts me with his afro in his sleep. But I’m also finding as we get deeper into this experience that I’ve all but lost that graceful art of solitude. (Oh, irony!)

This afternoon while Eric was fiddling with another tub of coolant, I volunteered to restock the fridge with a few essentials form the grocery store. (Eggs. Sandwich meat. Chocolate. Wine.) Before I had even dug out the reusable bag and stepped onto the pavement, I felt fear. Mmhm, over a few aisles of produce and a flock of grocery carts. Fear, yes, alongside it’s sassy sisters apprehension, uncertainty, and vulnerability. And with most fears, I was well aware of the absurdity, however that doesn’t mean I was any less overwhelmed, tackling the Dunedin city center Countdown at 5PM.

Everyone is on a schedule, whooshing through cramped aisles. Most have a gaggle of kids in tow, or a partner absorbed in a cell phone. I felt I was the recipient of more than 1 dirty look, pausing overlong in the biscuit aisle to compare prices and brands. I couldn’t keep up with bagging my dozen items, and my birthdate and signature were scrutinized by multiple employees.

After 20 minutes in that shop, I couldn’t wait to have Eric’s kneecaps bash into mine “back at home.”

-K

And a little belated wine wrap:

^ A wheel of cheese, a good book, and a 9/10 wine. YUSS! After it was all demolished, we decided to go for a hike of several hours up a nice, big, arduous hill. Not my best idea.

^ Here is where the numbers end. I can’t keep up. I’m no connoisseur. The new ranking system: above, below, or right at average. I can’t even remember what Vidal scored, but look! Pretty forest at our campsite!

^ Fools for rummy.
^ We broke our last plastic wine glass. Mugs it is, kids. Cheers.

namaste

January 21, 2016January 23, 2016
by KandE

In an attempt to be mindful of my original NZ goal list, today I unrolled my yoga mat for the first time since it’s acquisition last week. I spent a solid 50 minutes on the mat, it’s blue plastic surface nestled amongst swaying, seaside grass with a commanding view of the Southern Alps before me. Unfortunately for my spiritually inclined goals, my eyes were not closed in deep meditation but for a delightfully sunny siesta. Who knew a yoga mat doubled so brilliantly as a sleeping surface?

In all seriousness, I did attempt a legitimate go at some stretching this morning. I’m finding on this trip that my very first actions, reactions to the new day, are key in determining my daily attitudes. This morning after throwing back the covers for a swig of water, I didn’t crawl directly back into bed beside my beloved. “Oh! It’s really not too cold outside either!” led to a proper pair of footwear, an extra sweater, and a walk to the lake. Upon my return to the Hiace, I didn’t close my eyes for another snooze, but opened my book to it’s latest chapter. I made the bed, I made the table, I made breakfast with an enthusiasm not normally present at that hour. And so it was following this chain of mundane yet magically invigorating events that led me to the lycra.

After another stroll along the waterfront, I found my spot.

Breezy, sunny, plenty of bird chirp.

Mat duly unfurled with a self satisfied flourish.

Routine aborted after 30 seconds, flicking away a terrible troupe of pesky insects.

This happened twice, in fact, in two different locations before I decided that my newest purchase of athletic equipment was more useful back in it’s tight coil, wielded instead as a bat for fat bumblebees.

BUGS BE GONE, GODDAMNIT!

Namaste.

-K

^ Morning coffee at our SECRET SPOT. Best campsite we’ve discovered yet on this whole, damn trip.

^ In case you thought this was just a random snap of the shutter… “Here, Eric, take a picture of me too. The light looks good on you, it’s bound to be good on me too.”

^ Silver Moki: 9.5/10
^ Saint Clair: 7/10

^ Sileni: 8/10

^ Hiking up around Mt. Cook’s neighborhood. The fog slowly crept in as we advanced, with the end of our 7th mile leaving us quite soggy.

^ Those swing bridges get me every time.

my new favorite place.

January 12, 2016January 15, 2016
by KandE

You can learn a great deal of things about a person during a session at the laundromat. The stains that populate the clothes they buy. The way they occupy themselves during the spin cycle. Whether one decides to fold or throw after the timer goes off, into dirty duffel bags or bright plastic hampers.

Me: I’m the girl with too many flannels, not enough brassieres, writing post cards in the sunniest corner. A takeaway long black sits in front of me as I slowly sway to the generic, poppy playlist overhead. (Hungry Like A Wolf up next. Independent Women on deck.) I’m the one telling the handsome man at dryer 9, “Wait! I’m not ready to go yet! I’ll help you fold in a few minutes when I finish what I’m working on.”

-K

^ Laundry day a few weeks ago near Nelson.

^ A few overdue wine wrap-ups. Mud House p. gris (8/10) and Mount Ara s. blanc (8.5/10)

^ Oyster Bay s. blanc (5/10)

^ &Two of my best recent cooking adventures!

^ More food and drink shtuff: preparing my morning coffee at the river like my ancestors must have done.

Wa-wa-water

December 28, 2015January 1, 2016
by KandE

The word of the weekend: water. (Also this entry is brought to you by the letter W!)

Yesterday we visited the largest freshwater spring in the world (mildly underwhelming,) Eric attempted a load of laundry in the creek, and I discovered a brilliant swimming hole named “Crystal Pool” at a nearby scenic reserve. I would suggest the latter be renamed “Ice Crystal Pool,” but I still went for a quick dip to fulfill a ballin’ photo op and to sooth my PMSing soul in a river the Maori have long believed to have mystical healing properties.

Today’s aquatic adventures began in the form of my bathing! Huzzah! Eric is keeping track of all sorts of statistics in his journal, and has catalogued this as the X day since my last shower. (My apologies, the number is too horrific for me to admit publicly yet.) Anyway, I swallowed my pride and brought my shampoo and soap caddy to the cold, outdoor shower head at the park. I endured only a slight humiliation as families strolling on a Sunday morning took note of the hairy armpits being soaped across the sidewalk. OH, WELL. I’m clean (today) and nothing can dampen my deep, joyous contentment over silky hair. Not even our newly broken… (wait for it) … water pump! It’s not the worst problem we’ve been faced with on our trip so far, but it reduces our fully functional appliances down to to one: the stove. Unfortunately our batteries for the “house” are still on the fritz, meaning minimal charging of our electronics + no refrigerator, which leads us into our final ode to H2O. We devised a strategy today to keep our dinner meat + produce cold sans fridge, by attempting to harness the cool temps of the campsite river. We hacked an empty water bottle apart (I wasn’t even trying for that w,) stuffed our perishables inside, then wedged it into the shallows with a steady stream to pass through the plastic. It wasn’t a 100% success, but we’ve just finished our dinner and are suffereing no apparent ill effects.

Now that both tonight’s dinner + journaling are done, time to wash all of these highs and lows down with a glass of WINE.

-K

^ Riverstone. A 7/10 for me, 6.5 for E.

^ Ice Crystal Pool. It hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. At least, not about anything but the pain. Certain I now know what ice fishing on Lake Wissota is like.

^ My sweet eldest nephew reminding us to KEEP LEFT. (And when I say us, I do mean Eric. The last time I tried to learn how to drive a manual, it ended in tears.)

^ More cooking adventures. This is the 3rd time we’ve tried and failed to make a proper cuppa. (Street cred rapidly sinking.)

Port Motueka

December 22, 2015December 28, 2015
by KandE

Eric’s suffering multiple burns. I was hit with sun stroke. F that giant, fiery ball in the sky.
And on the note: happy summer solstice!

Originally we had intended to spend the entirety of the day, 5:58AM to 8:39PM, outside basking in the rays of a bountiful, life-giving sun. But after yesterday’s struggle fest on the mountain, we scrapped that plan, slept in, and just ate sunny side up eggs instead.

Other struggles today include keeping the car batteries charged; the displeasure at finding warm, spoiled food in the fridge; accepting the champion length of my leg hair; and using my thighs and/or glutes for any length of time.

In contrast, victories for the day include but are not limited to: finding the right shade of bight blue thread for a potentially disastrous new sewing project; starting a new book; making camp at the next town north, then combing for rainbow shells at low tide; and going to the bathroom in a real toilet at least one today.

All in all: doin’ pretty OK!

^ Montana wine get’s a 3 out of 10, solstice eggs (they can’t all be winners,) and rainbow shells.

^ More adventures in cooking: vegetarian quesadillas. Diced tomatoes + black beans + queso inside with ample avo on top. One of my favorite meals yet.

-K

Wakefield

December 21, 2015December 28, 2015
by KandE

I wouldn’t be surprised if I lost 10 pounds on our hike today! It was a great physical exertion and a test of our fitness. Also, we were horribly underprepared with no food and one bottle of water to split for 10 miles.

What started as a jaunt à la “I feel great!” and “My body loves me for this!” turned to drudgery before long, trudging up steep, shit sprinkled hills under an unrelentingly full sun. My dehydrated mind was convinced those seagulls flying peaceably overhead were predators circling our beat brows.

Legs started wobbling a bit on the final peak at mile 5.
Game faces became difficult towards cheerful passersby at around 7.
We were on severe water rations for the last 3 miles, openly cursing every goddamn incline AND decline. (You know you’re in rough shape when it’s easier to go up than down.)

F-ing. Rookies.

Although it wasn’t completely torturous the entire time. I’d hiked a small portion of the Cable Bay Walkway a few years earlier with my BFF, and I was excited to share an experience with Eric that is in my top 5 best of all time. The views were just as splendid as I remembered and it was still a thrill to be hiking across active grazing land with goats, cows, and SHEEP to chase, emulate, and ogle. I’m glad(ish) we did it, but even more pleased we made it out of there alive and in reasonably decent spirits.

For the remainder of the day, we rewarded our toils with a hot $2 shower, a double scoop of gelato, and a couple of steaks from the grocery store. After hanging out with all of those healthy cows today on the hills–“You guys grass-fed, eh? Free range?”–our assumptions proved correct that New Zealand beef is top notch. And after a day like today, never have I felt that I deserved a steak more.

-K

^ A steak and a bottle of wine, of course. 3/10, Old Coach Road.

K and E Abroad

Tag: wine