When we got out to the road heading south out of Tekapo, it was already 4:00 in the evening. We had tried to not stress too much about getting out early, but perhaps we relaxed a little too much. And let me tell you, starting that late when hitchhiking is not advisable, especially with the cold weather. When the sun started to go down, it got colder much faster. But we needed to kick-start our South Island tour sooner rather than later, because our window of time between the end of work in Tekapo and the beginning of house-sitting in Auckland was too short for comfort and there was no way we were missing out on some of the things the South Island had to offer.
The first gentleman who picked us up was the head of the Mt. Cook Department of Conservation crew. We told him we had just been to Mt. Cook for the first time a couple of weeks earlier and it was phenomenal. He told us about the low morale after an ice-climbing safety workshop had gone awry and the instructor had fallen into a crevasse to his death, a sadly ironic event. This bit had been in the papers.
He very kindly took us farther than the Mt. Cook turnoff so that we would be close to a town in case we had no luck. People who pick up hitchhikers continually amaze me with how willing they are to go out of their way to help a stranger. Dark was falling and we were beginning to get nervous, so we were thankful to be dropped off in a more high-traffic area.
Levin, our German stoner (I use that word affectionately) friend from upstairs in Tekapo had spent the morning with us and the other boys and baked bread in the process, which was for us to take. The bread saved our lives! I brought a tub of catering spread with us for this and we snacked on it with tremblingly cold fingers. We could see our breaths and we soon had to hike down the road to where there was a gas station and more light. Night had fallen.
We were starting to discuss options for sleeping on the side of the road or taking shelter in some large machinery in a nearby park. It was getting cold fast and the dark was getting thicker.
After a long wait (maybe 2 hours?), someone flipped back around to pick us up. John the Irishman was headed south, but with a broken heater. Of all the cars to stop on a cold night, it had to be one whose heater was broken. Haha. Then again, we've noticed that it is generally the dysfunctional or shitty cars that stop. People who are snooty generally are not as kind of souls as those who know a thing or two about doing things the hard way and getting somewhere by alternative means. First world problems that I have to complain about a broken heater, right? But damn it was cold!
Fortunately I found his puffy blue coat in the back seat and commandeered it for a good cause, which is to say, my numb legs and feet. I never thawed out, but I was at least somewhat warm! I was soooooo thankful he picked us up.
We chatted easily with John. We told him we were headed back to Auckland for a month and he told us he was also headed there for some work training that would last a month or two. He left us with his business card so we could get a beer in the city while we were there. I'll tell more later, but
John took us to Cromwell just off the road where the giant fruit are hard to miss. We waited here for Dean, the man who had given us a ride from Queenstown to Cromwell on our first trip to Queenstown. He had been the one who had gone out of his way to drop us where we would be most likely to find a ride to Tekapo and offered us a bed if we had no luck. We planned to stay the night with him that night to start our traveling right.
We went into a Subway to wait and while Joe was in the bathroom, a man pulled up in a car that looked like Dean's car, but when the man got out, I had a crisis. The Dean from before seemed rugged, with stubble or a beard, and having just gotten done with construction work that day, seemed dirty or worn or something. This dude had a short face, no facial hair, and glasses. He looked like an accountant.
I smiled, which I hoped was friendly, but non-committal in case this wasn't Dean. But he said my name and walked right up for a hand-shake. Phew.
When Joe came out of the bathroom, he had the same crisis. He looked at me as if wondering if I were just chatting with a stranger and was confused when Dean called him by name. I was glad to know I wasn't the only one.
Dean took us to his house, where we met his partner, a woman who confused us by how wrong she seemed for Dean. She seemed to laugh at surface jokes, while Dean was a lot deeper. She was nice, just didn't seem to fit. Plus, they fought in front of us just a bit, which is always awkward. But lonely is lonely and everybody needs a little love in their lives.
Dean had of course turned the heated blanket on in our room, and thank goodness because our room was cooooooold. Fortunately, we were traveling with a bit of noodle makings, so I whipped some up for a quick hot dinner. The house was oddly-built, with no real purpose for some of the bizarre layout. The insulation and heating system were shite, so Dean kept it cold to save money. The house was tiny and slightly uninviting, but we loved the company. Their german shepherd was sweet as well and just adored Dean. We watched a little bit of television and then went to bed.
The next morning we were up early to head to work with Dean to Queenstown. We had decided on our departure date from Tekapo with this in mind, as it was a Thursday when we left and had it been a Friday, he would not have gone to work the next morning. We would have been able to catch a ride with someone, but it was nice to have the easy opportunity and some more time to talk deep matters with him.
We had decided that we would try to hit Milford Sound as soon as we could, so when we bid an affectionate farewell to Dean in Queenstown, we headed up the road to hitchhike towards Te Anau, the gate to some of the more major sounds.
We had real trouble finding a ride out of Queenstown. Everyone was taking their kids to school or heading to the ski slopes. Milford Sound isn't really a wintertime tourist destination, so we weren't getting many hits. We were freezing to the point of slurred speech, but the view across the lake and into Queenstown was incredible.
Finally a man headed to do a heating installation job in the direction of Te Anau stopped for us. He was in a rush and not going the whole way, but we were grateful for it anyway. He was pleasant, but not too much attachment and affection. He dropped us in a dinky little town in the middle of nowhere, as his path diverted from ours starting here.
Luckily for us, New Zealand is composed almost entirely of two-lane roads and very few motorways that are sprawling like in the United States. I think it is mostly that they don't have the traffic to warrant huge roads. This makes hitchhiking easier because we don't have to hoof it on on-ramps or decide between truck stops and back roads, or the main interstate.
We were picked up within a half hour, which was pretty great. A couple in a nice red pickup was headed in Te Anau's direction in order to take a helicopter ride over the glaciers and sounds. We were exceedingly jealous, but also exceedingly grateful to them. They own a huge sheep station and were nice to ride with.
We walked a kilometer or two from where they dropped us off and into the town of Te Anau. We immediately went to the information center to see if we could catch a bus or hitchhike up to Milford Sound for the night. Unfortunately, all the buses were done for the night and hitchhiking would have been difficult, so our options changed a little. We decided that instead of trying to sleep at Milford Sound to save a little bit of money on transport, we would just do our tour to include transport from Te Anau and stay the night there.
I had my heart set on kayaking. I'm not sure where I even got it in my head that we should do kayaking instead of hiking, cruise or air. Hiking would have been optimal, but the cost and exclusivity, not to mention the waiting list, barred us from even considering it. A plane or helicopter flight would have been amazing, but these were very expensive and perhaps not as personal. The cruise ships were my last choice, despite being cheaper, just because they are very impersonal, quick, and a loud way to experience the beauty. Kayaking was up-close, personal, quiet, and beautiful. It was expensive, but I had my heart set on it. It's one of the few times in my life that I spend a little more for something I really want, and boy was it rewarding.
We walked to the hostel we were going to stay at. We decided that to save money we would take a tent site, but we had a lounge area with a kitchen, showers, and most importantly, heat.
We took a quick walk to see the sunset (including stepping into mud so deep it swallowed my boot) and then set into cooking some dinner and relaxing a little.
It quickly got cold, we noticed, so we just sort of settled into the couch, where we eventually slept. It was pleasant. We had our own little corner.
We were up early in the morning to catch the bus, but somehow cut it pretty close. We threw our stuff in bags and I headed off down to the front desk where our transport would pick us up. Joe told me not to let them leave without me and he followed behind shortly.
I was worried we had missed our bus as the sun rose and the morning started to make sounds. But then our bus pulled up and we were relieved to shove our huge packs into the back of the bus. There were only 6-8 of us in the bus, a result of off-season. The whole thing felt more intimate.
The ride up the mountain was perhaps the most beautiful part. We drove through a chute with striking mountains on both sides. The morning was frosty but bright, which made pictures just downright awesome--sparkly everything and crisp colors.
There was a one-lane tunnel through the mountain at one point, which was alarming and amazing. It went on for a long time. Joe is the one that freaks out for things like this.
On the other side, we stopped for the view and it was breath-taking. We were surrounded by these super steep green mountains and out in front you could see the snow-covered mountains and the valley crept right up to your feet and spread out like an inviting green chute.
When we stopped here, we also got to see the Kea, a bird well known in New Zealand for being "cheeky." The guidebooks even talk about them. They are the only alpine parrot and they are remarkably curious about tourists. Plus, if you don't watch them very carefully, they'll strip your windshield wipers, steal your lunch, or tear apart your backpacks. They were the oddest bird I'd ever seen because they were curious enough that they walked (trotted, actually, and sideways) closer to us with their heads tilting one way and then the other to size you up.
We continued on down the beautiful valley and drove until we got to a small hub with a big tent and a couple of out buildings. We were hustled into the shed where we were to receive instructions for our gear. There was a heater that helped a little, but I still couldn't believe we were crazy enough to kayak in this weather.
We got our warmth layers on, and then the spray skirt, jacket, and life jacket. We had little glove things that attached to the paddles to put our hands in when paddling to keep some of the water off our hands and cold out of our bones!
It was cold at first. I seriously considered turning back. But this was literally only for a minute or two. It was easy to stay warm while paddling, and the little hand shield glovey things did a surprisingly good job of maintaining heat.
The trip was amazing. Kayaks are definitely the best way to see Milford Sound. Obviously having not experienced the other methods, I can't say this accurately, but I will say that it felt amazing. The mountains rose out of the water steep and sharp, carved away by glaciers. We saw seals up close and dolphins from a distance. Joe and I kept lagging behind because we were admiring it all for too long. We got our money's worth. We saw several cruise boats go by with their loud motors and decks of the few passengers brave enough to go out in the cold.
We saw some of the best sunset moments of our lives on the way home (though our eyes were droopy, having been going since dawn light had tipped the scenery). The whole sky was a glowing pink. We also saw a few more trotting keas when we stopped to wait for our turn to go through the tunnel.
The bus dropped me and our bags back at the campground and Joe stayed on the bus to get some food for dinner in town. I paid for another night and hauled our packs this time to a private room (sleeping in the lounge area may not have worked a second time, plus we were pooped).
We had a delicious dinner, though I can't think of what it was now. I think dinners always taste better when you have a big day. And sunrise to sunset, partially in the cold and rain and out on the water all contribute to the hunger.
The next morning we hiked back out to the place where the couple had dropped us two days earlier to try and hitchhike. We were cold. A freezing fog descended on us. I was slurring.
After a couple of fake-outs (and Joe letting one go because it looked too full) and several hours of standing around, we finally got something. A bright red Alfa Romeo with a couple from Dunedin said they could take us as far as Gore. I was so happy to have a warm place to sit.
In Gore we encountered more trouble getting a ride to Invercargill, but finally a man stopped. He told us he could drop us at the i-Site, which was a perfect place to start in a new town. He was a photographer in his spare time and he showed us some of his photos, which were phenomenal.
When we got to Invercargill, we asked about getting to Stewart Island, but the ferry was going to be expensive, plus we would have had to take a shuttle to get to the other city, and all in all, the timetables were difficult and the ferry seemed like a hassle if we were just going for a day.
Then the lady at the counter told us about a wintertime stand-by deal to fly to Stewart Island. It was cheaper, faster, and better, plus it left very soon, meaning we wouldn't have to wait around. We were thrilled! We hopped on a little cheap shuttle to the airport and were waiting for our plane in no time.
At the check-in desk, this handsome young man hand-wrote a ticket for us and asked us to be weighed on the scales. With such a small plane, their weight measurements had to be more precise.
We were pumped to fly. The handsome man came out from behind the desk, gathered his 7-8 passengers up, and took us out on the tarmac. While walking, he asked if anyone was afraid of flying. I knew Joe is a little nervous about flying and a lot nervous about heights, so I raised his hand for him. The man said, "Okay, then I'm going to pick on you and bring you up front to fly with me." The young man was the pilot and Joe was to sit next to him in the front seat of a two-prop plane.
The flight was incredible and incredibly nerve-wracking. We caught every bit of turbulence and the plane seemed to rock backward and forward, one wing at a time. We could see the ocean and a few small islands. I was jealous of Joe and thought he might be mad at me.
The men I sat next to in the back were cracking joke after joke. Turns out, one of them works for the plane company and is as sarcastic as can be, the witty humor that goes with his British accent. He gave the young pilot a very hard time, but everyone laughed about it. Everyone else on the plane also knew one another, or at least of one another. It felt like we were flying with and into one big family on the island.
The landing was intense. He bumped and skidded in and it was probably a comparatively good landing, but having not flown on a plane so small before, it felt like dive-bombing a strip of dirt!
The island was small and wet. It was raining so hard that the ground was having trouble soaking it in. Luckily, the hotel we were directed to was only a block away.
The hotel is charming. It has a bar and restaurant on one side, a cafe on the other, a desk with a pop-up railing to show it was closed, with a staircase leading around the desk and upstairs to the rooms. This was all in one building. It felt like an old western or something.
We paid for a night (during the winter they rent out rooms at hostel rates because the hostels are all closed on the island--a counter-intuitive business plan if you ask Joe and I) and we went to our room out behind the main building. It was simple, but cozy. The afternoon light and the clean sheets were so inviting.
In the room next to us were two Belgian men. We talked with them and they told us about trivia night at the bar, steak and eggs from the restaurant, and looking for kiwi birds at night. We excitedly agreed to all go together, but first Joe and I went out for a walk.
We hadn't originally meant to go as far as we did, but we kept going farther and farther and we knew that if we turned back, we probably wouldn't make the time to reach where we wanted to go later. There was a point at the end of the trail that was famous for its kiwis, its lighthouse, and its penguins. The farther from the hotel we got, the more we resisted turning back. We ended up running the last couple of kilometers to speed it up. We found the lighthouse, but no kiwis or penguins. It was a beautiful view, though the sun had mostly set and there wasn't much light to see the view. We were glad we made it all the way out there though.
By the time we got back to the hotel, the Belgian boys had left us a note saying they were in the bar at trivia night already. We went down and found them, ordered our steak, and played on the foreigners' team in trivia. Our team made second place and the steaks were to die for. This was actually the second time in New Zealand that we had done very well at trivia on a foreigners team and it's my theory that because travelers are usually a little more educated, as well as come from diverse backgrounds, we rock at the guessing game.
Afterwards we went out with the boys to look for kiwis. I didn't know how well this would work, since I don't have much night vision. Humans aren't really nocturnal.
We went up a few hills in the town toward the bridge the locals had told us might have kiwis. Joe and one of the guys were just chatting away, which bothered me a little, and I think it also bothered the other guy. It just seemed like if we were looking for an animal in the dark of night, we should probably stay quiet enough to not scare the animal away, plus we should be listening for them. Plus, they could have talked some other time. But oh well. I am actually very happy when Joe makes a new friend.
Our luck was not good at the bridge, so we continued up another hill until we came to the cemetery, the place the other locals suggested that we might find kiwis. It was a little ominous to walk through there in the dark, especially because I was the only one without a flashlight.
We had no luck in the cemetery and it was getting colder and darker, so we decided to head back down the hill. When we got to the bottom of the cemetery drive that split off from the main road, we turned the corner to head back and I heard something move near my feet. I gasped a little and looked down and there he was. A kiwi!
We were so excited. He was so close to my feet and he almost started to peck them. He bumbled around a little bit and then started heading down the road in front of us.
Joe and I didn't bring a camera because we knew ours would not do so well in the dark. One of the guys had a nice, big, DSLR camera and the other had a small point-and-shoot. Once we found the kiwi, we were being as careful as could be not to frighten him, but we definitely wanted to see him and the only way that could be done was by flashlight.
He picked up his pace as the boys tried to get a few pictures. The one with the big camera kept trying to shoot photos, but the camera wouldn't go. Joe beside me was getting slightly upset by it because he wanted to be able to share the pictures and he thought the guy was just trying to conserve photos and wait for a good one. It is silly when digital photos are conserved, especially in conditions where getting the right shot is milliseconds apart.
He walked down the road as we trailed him. He got closer and closer to the big camera, which would only shine the focus light, but never click to say the picture was taken.
He started looking a little nervous about our presence, probably mostly because there were three of us on one side of him, and one on the other, which may have made him feel trapped. Then he suddenly let out a shrill call.
After a couple of these short calls, we heard one behind us and looked back to see a slightly larger kiwi with his head and beak in the air letting out the same nervous song. Now the three of us were surrounded! We think they were calling for one another because they were nervous about our presence. Both arched their heads and beaks into the air to call one another.
They continued to walk close to the road for a while, but eventually walked away and into the bush, one on one side of the road, and one on the other.
We were pumped! I felt like our New Zealand time was complete. We'd seen it all, kiwi birds included.
Unfortunately with the big camera not being able to focus due to darkness and therefore not able to take the photos, we can't prove it overly well. The point-and-shoot got a couple of pictures, but not many and they were blurry and partial. I didn't mind because we had seen a kiwi and that was enough, though Joe regretted not having post-able facebook photos.
We went back to the hotel and there was some after-hours drinking going on in the bar area of the hotel. The boys had a couple of beers and we watched the locals get drunker and drunker, while one of them played bad tunes on an over-strummed guitar.
We said goodnight and thank you to the boys for a nice night. They promised to send any successful kiwi photos to Joe on his facebook.
The next day we were up and walking around. We called the flight service to get seats, since our tickets were standby. They didn't have any at a reasonably early hour. We would have to stay another night.
So we went instead to the grocery store and bought some lunch supplies. Joe got himself into a great conversation with the very young owner, and they talked about remoteness of locations and trying to find the balance between living just for capitalism and business and living just off the earth like a hardcore hippie. He seemed very balanced and real about it and very well-spoken.
Next we took a water taxi out to Ulva Island, which was a tiny island that was reserved as a habitat for many birds. There were trails everywhere and we took much longer than the other people on the water taxi to see all of the paths. We were thorough. We had the ride back with just us and the captain of the boat, which was fun because we got to talk one-on-one with him.
We ate in the bar again, though I chose something besides the steak, since that seemed like a heart attack waiting to happen.
The next morning we checked out and walked around for a little while, but then we sat in the upstairs part of the hotel reading while looking out at a beautiful view of the harbor.
We checked in for the flight and asked if I could sit up front. They said yes, so I rode next to the pilot, with all the buttons and thingamabobs on my side as well. To even get into the plane, you had to crawl over the wing and through a tiny door It wasn't as scary as the first flight, probably because it was one propeller instead of two. The two-prop had always just seemed to hit the wind wrong in one propeller or the other and that would make it rock from side to side.
We made a safe landing and felt super lucky to get to experience the whole thing, from the flights, to walking, to kiwis, to trivia, to the Belgians, and to the water taxi and small island.
We took a shuttle back to the i-Site in Invercargill, where we had booked a bus back to Queenstown. We were already several days over our hopeful itinerary for seeing the South Island, so we had decided it was time to move a little faster than hitchhiking. The bus was the first step.
We had also booked a relocation vehicle that would go from Queenstown up to Greymouth, which was great. We were trying to get to Greymouth to catch the train anyway, so relocating a car there would be perfect. It did make our schedule a little tight for seeing the glaciers on the west coast, but not that bad, because we needed to catch the train at a specific time anyway. This was our first time trying the relocation thing.
The bus ride was easy and nice. We were dropped in Queenstown and had some pizza while we waited for Constantin (our German friend) to text back. I was getting stressed because I felt like we were losing money way too quickly while having all these experiences. Mind you, I didn't regret our experiences, but we were hemorrhaging our funds.
It took basically all day to get in touch with Constantin, but eventually we did and he said we could sleep at his place, but that he was leaving for the night to go on a ski trip with his friends. We met up with him and he led us up the road and then up like 6 rickety staircases and dirt scrambles, until we got to his weirdly sandwiched little house where he rented a room.
It was awful. Constantin had stayed in our living room for a week or more and not having much privacy, and having a futon for a bed was not great, but this was worse. It smelled and was run-down. His neighbor across the teeny-tiny hall came out of his room with a cloud of skunky smoke and eyes so bloodshot they made him look like a ragged werewolf. Each regular room in the house had been split into three or more rooms and had permanent bed installations so that there were two or three people to a room, in a way that reminded me of the tighter fraternity living situations. Every room smelled. The kitchen was shit. It was dirty and impractically sized, made even worse by the fact that there were at least ten or twelve people living in the house and sharing a kitchen that wouldn't have suited even one person. They had very little heat, and very little light. The porch was okay, but like the rest of the house, there had been no maintenance in years. Their bathroom... listen, I'm not picky when it comes to bathrooms. I pee in the forest without even a second thought. Porta-potties aren't even that bad because I know it is purely temporary. Trying to feel at home, even for a night, in a place that has never ever ever been cleaned is really quite tricky. Bleh.
Rant over. The place was a sty, just know that.
So we slept on top of Constantin's smelly bed for a matter of only a few hours because we needed to get up and get to the bus to the airport where we could pick up the car.
We bought insurance and paid $1 per day for the rental. Altogether, I think we spent something like $65. It even came with a free tank of gas that we didn't need to top up before returning it. GREAT deal, especially considering that a straight-through bus to Greymouth would have cost at least that much PER PERSON. And then we wouldn't have been able to see the glaciers or anything else on the way.
We went out to the lot and there was our vehicle: a gold 4WD Toyota Prado. It was beautiful. We were so lucky. We were so happy to have such an awesome solution to our cost/time dilemma.
We drove out of Queenstown elated and on to Wanaka, where we went to Puzzling World. The first time we went to Wanaka, I had seen it and thought it looked like an odd place to spend time. But then I heard a few great reviews for it and I was so glad to have the transportation freedom that allowed us to go.
It's a cool place because it takes all of those perspective tricks that artists try to illustrate in two dimensions and puts them in three. For instance, there was a room with two doorways--one on each side at the back wall--that were different scales. Using the diagonal lines and scaling everything perfectly, looking at the room just made you think they were the same size. When people were standing in the doorways, the observer thought one was a giant and the other a miniature. And if someone walked from one doorway to the other, it looked like the person was shrinking or growing. Super cool, though rather hard to explain in words. I'll post a video to illustrate.
There was also a room where everything was tilted to an angle. Everything was at a slight angle--the floors at 25 degrees, the walls at 25 degrees, the furniture at 25. And then when you would look around at other people or yourself in the mirror, it screwed with your head. How could people stand at that angle? Our brain never sees the whole house at an angle, so our perception sort of rights the house, but then it's freaky that we're standing at an angle (gravity still applies straight down) in a house that our brain tries to fix by making it flat. I don't know if I explained that very well, but basically it was trippy. So trippy that it started to make us sick after a while, even though we wanted to stay in the exhibit and mess with our heads.
Puzzling World also had a huge maze, which was fun and difficult.
Then we were on towards the West Coast! We drove for a long time and we were enjoying the scenery, but the sun started to go down. Since we didn't want to miss the sights on the west coast, we found a holiday home with a yard that we could tuck the Prado in. This is technically illegal, but we weren't disturbing anyone and most kiwis hate the no freedom camping rule anyway.
We slept there for the night (a little cold, but otherwise pretty great). The Prado was not as nice for sleeping as our Subaru was because it wasn't as long and didn't fold all the way flat. But it didn't bother us too much. We were glad for the economical option.
The next morning we were up early and drove to Fox glacier. We did a beautiful hike to see it. The trail was just beautiful, with different features, like streams, high-country forests, a river crossing in boulders, and an outlook just out of dense forest.
We moved on, feeling accomplished at having gotten up and hiked so early. We were crossing things off our list quite quickly.
Franz Josef glacier is more pronounced and popular I think, and that is where we went next. We had a quick and nasty fight, though I'm not sure what about now. The hike up was silent. Bleh, I hate fights, but at least he doesn't refuse to engage in a fight with me. I think healthy relationships include fights.
The glaciers were so impressive. Especially since we could hike with short sleeves. They were an icy blue and sometimes you could hear them cracking. There were helicopters going over all day long with wealthy people taking a closer look for a higher price.
We were glad we got to do the glaciers. Without the relocation vehicle, we would have been screwed and not gotten to see the glaciers.
In the town of Franz Josef, we stopped quickly at a cafe to get enough internet to book the TranzAlpine train from Greymouth to Christchurch.
We headed on towards Greymouth, but must have stopped somewhere to sleep, though I don't remember at all where or when. We did make it to Greymouth in time to eat a little something and return the car. We also went out to see a stone beach and there we found a dying seal, which was rather sad.
The train was amazing. We checked our big bags in, which made our ride much more comfortable. The windows were huge and the seats were very comfortable. There was also a train car on the back that was used solely as a viewing platform and it had huge, glassless windows and railings. The ride was gorgeous and Joe spent a good deal of time in the viewing platform. I didn't spend quite as much time, but I did go back several times.
The ride was about 3.5 or 4 hours, starting in the early afternoon and ending just as Christchurch was falling into a light dusk. We got our bags and called the Argentinians (Jesus and Nicolas), who we knew lived in Christchurch. They said they would come pick us up!
We went back to their house with them, where they looked like they were really thriving. Nico looked a little chubbier than he had in Hawke's Bay, and Jesus looked more relaxed. He is still the Latino male though who puts on a pressed collared shirt to get drunk with his friends, which is cute. Nico's eyes were still the warm, soft, and kind eyes that a good number of Latinos have. They're both Latino gentlemen.
The place was full of Argentinians and it was a party night for them! Everyone got pretty drunk except Joe and I because we knew we would have to be up stupidly early the next day to catch our plane to Auckland. We were trying to be sociable and fun, but within no time, we were exhausted. I excused myself and laid down on Nico's bed since he offered. The party continued.
Eventually they all rounded themselves up to go to another party, though as drunk as they were, it took like a half hour to leave. Joe eventually faded out sometime in this time frame as well and we cat-napped until 4am, when we needed to wake up. We were amazed when we realized everyone had come back and were still drunk and still going. They made us feel old, and I'm pretty sure at least Nico is older than us, and probably Jesus as well.
We took a cab to the airport and checked into our flight. We had only had a very small window in which we could explore the South Island, so it ended up being as on-the-go as we could muster. And I had been working two jobs the whole month before that. So when we got on the plane, I started falling asleep. We were finally heading to Auckland--a place of rest and peace.
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