After a foggy day in Wellington capped off with karoke rendition of "Sweet Home Alabama" at the hostel bar, I made my way across Cook Strait to the South Island of NZ. The trip took about 3 hours, and the ferry was a gigantic floating palace. A bar, coffee shops, flat screen TVs even a movie theater on board - not that you would need any of it for the entertainment outside.

I expected to see a port at first sight of land, but instead we entered [we of the boat the size of Detroit] a winding cove. This would be my introduction to the famed South Island -- a sunny, calm inlet surrounded on all sides by craggy, verdant walls. The water and the hills seemed to be vying equally for attention, one a crystal blue and the other a deep, scouring-pad green. There were three birds keeping up with us on the right side of the boat, rising and falling with a slight breeze, and I wasn't sure if they wanted food or to race. I just stood there for about half an hour, looking over the railings, mist spraying in my face, and enjoyed the guessing of what might be around the next bend.

species distinction

After a full day of travel, I made it to Wellington. Haven't been able to see too much of it yet, but plan to do my own walking tour today. The national museum here, Ta Papa, is supposed to be pretty amazing, and I plan on taking a trip on a cable car up to their observatory. Hoping to get some pictures up here soon....

My search for knowledge continues, as always. For instance, I've learned that there was an ostrich-like bird that was indigineous to New Zealand called the Moa, which was exploited and driven to extinction. Despite the similarities, this bird is not to be confused with Moe, zany Stooge ringleader. Kiwis are very adamant about this and find no humor in imitations of either, or imitations of one riding the other--jubilant cries of "Heehaw! Moe on a Moa!" notwithstanding.

kia ora!

A Maori word of welcome and thanks, which I've heard quite a bit the last few days as I've traveled to spots on the North Island. Maori are the natives of New Zealand, and they have a strong presence onthis island. I went to Maori cultural dinner last night. Apparently, they used to kill their enemies and eat them, but they were very gracious hosts. They sang songs and I ate stuffing; it was grand. Almost all of the places I've been have had Maori names so far, and the driver on my bus has a Maori name that takes roughly 10 seconds and several dozen muscles to say. He's asked that we call him Boof. Fair enough.

The ride from Auckland has been great, if a little rushed. I'm on a backpacker bus with about 20 others. The area we're driving through is mostly green pastures, but we've done little hikes in two different forests -- one rain, one redwood. The variety is surprising and amazing.

Stopped in Rotorua yesterday, affectionately termed 'Rotten Rua' around here because of the sulfur smell in the air. Steam rises everywhere in the place for the geothermal activity underground. It might have bothered me, if I were not so affronted by the smell of my own socks. I don't even want to wash them -- I may just burn them out of a sense of justice.

Today, I'm in Taupo. On the way here we saw some geothermal/geyser-type spots, and then we went to an adventure park where I climbed a 42 foot telephone pole , stood at the top of it, and then leaped four and a half feet forward to a waiting trapeze. Jumping off things against all good sense seems to be the thing to do here. Seriously, it was pretty intense but a lot of fun. There's something primal in you that screams for you not to do what you are doing--so when you do, it's exhilirating. Here's the site of the place where I did it -- in addition to the Giant Trapeze, I also did the Giant Swing (they were the only two available).

http://www.rocknropes.co.nz/rope_activities.html

Tonight there are a bunch of us going to the local pub to watch the rugby match, then tomorrow I'm off to Wellington. Apparently it's a sister city to San Francisco, so I can't wait to see it....