3/22/2012 - Denarau, Fiji
Rebecca and I had a relaxingly slow morning - no interviews, a late checkout, no activities - so we took 30 minutes to lay in our beds before getting out after waking up. Jason and JP joined us for a laughter-filled breakfast, then we took our time packing while CNN kept us up to speed with the serial killer stand-off in Toulose. After a refreshing dip in the pool, we loaded onto the bus for Nadi.
Our tire blew 1 hour into the trip. We unloaded and stood in the blistering sun for 45 minutes while Professor Francis helped the driver change it out. I've been the only one so far not to burn (I do have a rash from hips to neck from how much sunscreen I use - but it doesn't bother me, so I'd rather be red from a rash than red from sunburn), so I'm relieved that despite not putting sunscreen on today, I was able to snuggle up with the shady side of the bus.
Our current hotel is on the Fijian island Denarau. The ultimate resort location, Denarau is a far cry from the poverty-stricken regions of Fiji we've seen. I am not exaggerating when I say that every inch of this island is landscaped. With no visible path to get there, hotel employees sit in the middle of groomed floral bushes and hedges, picking out weeds and trimming branches.
Yet there is a marked dichotomy between physical environment and service at Fijian resorts. While landscapers meticulously tend to the flora, the wait staff and hotel employees make so many mistakes that everywhere you look, there are audible sighs, hands on hips, and sideways glares from one traveller to another.
Western notions of service do not exist. At meals, appetizers and entrees arrive arbitrarily, drinks frequently forgotten altogether. "I didn't order this," or "I actually ordered the…" are common expressions; it's hard to even flag a waiter down, since "excuse me?" or "sir?", spoken louder and louder until any increase in volume would upset tablemates and neighboring diners, is usually ignored. Attempts to correct orders or remove items erroneously added to bills are usually more trouble than they are worth.
It's purely an economic decision: stay 20 minutes and battle with server, manager and owner while everyone waits to get 3 extra beers taken off, or pay the extra $15. Usually we pay. I have no doubt that these are honest mistakes (wait staff rarely write things down, even for parties of 5 or more who are inclined to change their minds once they've heard the others order).
Still, I do experience inward frustration at not being able to order on separate checks at the same table, having to wait 10 minutes for a fork or knife, and I've noticed that I sorely miss the waiter checking in 10 minutes into our meal. I'd give anything to hear: "is everything all right?"
However! The opportunity to practice optimism is not lost on me. All I have to do is tell myself: "I may be getting terrible service, but I'm getting it in Fiji."
Best Day Ever
3/21/2012 - Suva, Fiji
Today was the adventurous day so far. In the morning, we met with someone charismatic, intrepid, and incredibly controversial. I can't say who it was, and we had to meet in an undisclosed location where all the curtains were drawn shut. This meeting is a story I think I'll be telling my grandchildren.
The afternoon was a dream come true for me. In my dream, I'm in the rain forest looking up at the canopy. The ground is warm, and the air is so humid it seems to be breathing me in instead of the other way around. I can hear birds who tweet, chirp, whistle, and caw. Giant drops of rain mute the sounds as they julienne the thick air. I got to experience it all and more zip lining. The harness goes around the hips, and attaches 2 straps to pull tight around each leg. Two more straps are attached to the front of the harness by a steel O-Hook, and there's a carabineer at the end of each, one of which is attached to a pulley, which is attached to yet another carabineer, which links a final pulley up to the configuration.
Then it all happens in under 5 seconds.
Clip, Clink-yank, clip: the first pulley is hooked onto a zip line and I'm jerked upwards by the straps around my thighs as I'm clipped in.
WHOOP!: the guide who is clipping me in signals the one across the aerial abyss that a zipliner is ready to go.
Clip, rattle, click, clip: the second pulley is hooked onto a safety line 6 inches above the zip line, and the lower pulley is clipped into it.
jfknBwEoivnVVkjxKsjek: the sound of fear, doubt, anxiety, and disorientation jumbles the sounds of everything else together
Thump. Thump. Thump.: a heart-pounding 5 seconds passes after I put all my weight into the harness, with nothing between me and the nothingness in front of me except the guide's hand in front of the pulley.
go!: the muted signal from across the abyss that the path is clear.
A nod from the guide next to me, a second to think, and then I soar across the jungle, from one tree to the next, where I slow down and land on a platform.
Then, in under 5 seconds…
Clip, rattle, click, clip: I'm unhooked from the lines.
GO!: the signal, much louder this time, in response to a whoop inaudible to me over the adrenaline rush
Clip: one carabineer is clipped into a rope tied around the tree so that I won't fall off the 2 foot platform encircling it.
Clip, clip, rattle: the pulleys and carabineers are hooked back onto my harness.
I flew from treetop to treetop in this manner, 16 times (we did a run of 8 zip lines twice). Sometimes all of us would be hooked onto the next tree, so we'd walk around it to the next line in a tight circle, like a human may-pole. The most adventurous of us tried to one-up each other continually, flipping over, running and jumping off, letting our whole bodies go limp, facing backwards, lying sideways, falling off the platform and letting the line take us to the next tree.
I was most proud of Yashreeka, who, shaking and teary before the first line, was going as fast as she could by the last line. Rob was impressive, too. His fear of heights kept him from doing the skyline luge (which is *considerably* safer than zip lining, but then again, taking a gondola up the side of a mountain makes the distance to the ground obvious, whereas gradually hiking through the jungle to the canopy disguises your altitude). But after the last line, Yashreeka and Rob were stoked about the suggestion to do a second run.
Mirae and Josh were the MVPs. On the second line, before we knew it was possible to do anything but go straight while holding on for our lives, Mirae lets go, flips upside down, faces us like a starfish, causing us all to scream. Grinning, Mirae waved and flipped back up. She and Josh were always the first to do something crazy, leading the rest of us waiting in a tree screaming at each other in adrenaline-infused joy and amazement.
Fearing more insipid hotel food, I went out with the group to eat in Suva. Colby and I shared a dish called "Stir-Fry Vegetables in Dalo Bowl." A dalo bowl is a bowl made of taro, and it was incredible. We were supposed to meet a group of Fijian law students for drinks, but I think the adrenaline completely drained me, so Rebecca and I came back to the hotel for some restorative sleep.
Today was the adventurous day so far. In the morning, we met with someone charismatic, intrepid, and incredibly controversial. I can't say who it was, and we had to meet in an undisclosed location where all the curtains were drawn shut. This meeting is a story I think I'll be telling my grandchildren.
The afternoon was a dream come true for me. In my dream, I'm in the rain forest looking up at the canopy. The ground is warm, and the air is so humid it seems to be breathing me in instead of the other way around. I can hear birds who tweet, chirp, whistle, and caw. Giant drops of rain mute the sounds as they julienne the thick air. I got to experience it all and more zip lining. The harness goes around the hips, and attaches 2 straps to pull tight around each leg. Two more straps are attached to the front of the harness by a steel O-Hook, and there's a carabineer at the end of each, one of which is attached to a pulley, which is attached to yet another carabineer, which links a final pulley up to the configuration.
Then it all happens in under 5 seconds.
Clip, Clink-yank, clip: the first pulley is hooked onto a zip line and I'm jerked upwards by the straps around my thighs as I'm clipped in.
WHOOP!: the guide who is clipping me in signals the one across the aerial abyss that a zipliner is ready to go.
Clip, rattle, click, clip: the second pulley is hooked onto a safety line 6 inches above the zip line, and the lower pulley is clipped into it.
jfknBwEoivnVVkjxKsjek: the sound of fear, doubt, anxiety, and disorientation jumbles the sounds of everything else together
Thump. Thump. Thump.: a heart-pounding 5 seconds passes after I put all my weight into the harness, with nothing between me and the nothingness in front of me except the guide's hand in front of the pulley.
go!: the muted signal from across the abyss that the path is clear.
A nod from the guide next to me, a second to think, and then I soar across the jungle, from one tree to the next, where I slow down and land on a platform.
Then, in under 5 seconds…
Clip, rattle, click, clip: I'm unhooked from the lines.
GO!: the signal, much louder this time, in response to a whoop inaudible to me over the adrenaline rush
Clip: one carabineer is clipped into a rope tied around the tree so that I won't fall off the 2 foot platform encircling it.
Clip, clip, rattle: the pulleys and carabineers are hooked back onto my harness.
I flew from treetop to treetop in this manner, 16 times (we did a run of 8 zip lines twice). Sometimes all of us would be hooked onto the next tree, so we'd walk around it to the next line in a tight circle, like a human may-pole. The most adventurous of us tried to one-up each other continually, flipping over, running and jumping off, letting our whole bodies go limp, facing backwards, lying sideways, falling off the platform and letting the line take us to the next tree.
I was most proud of Yashreeka, who, shaking and teary before the first line, was going as fast as she could by the last line. Rob was impressive, too. His fear of heights kept him from doing the skyline luge (which is *considerably* safer than zip lining, but then again, taking a gondola up the side of a mountain makes the distance to the ground obvious, whereas gradually hiking through the jungle to the canopy disguises your altitude). But after the last line, Yashreeka and Rob were stoked about the suggestion to do a second run.
Mirae and Josh were the MVPs. On the second line, before we knew it was possible to do anything but go straight while holding on for our lives, Mirae lets go, flips upside down, faces us like a starfish, causing us all to scream. Grinning, Mirae waved and flipped back up. She and Josh were always the first to do something crazy, leading the rest of us waiting in a tree screaming at each other in adrenaline-infused joy and amazement.
Fearing more insipid hotel food, I went out with the group to eat in Suva. Colby and I shared a dish called "Stir-Fry Vegetables in Dalo Bowl." A dalo bowl is a bowl made of taro, and it was incredible. We were supposed to meet a group of Fijian law students for drinks, but I think the adrenaline completely drained me, so Rebecca and I came back to the hotel for some restorative sleep.
Interviews
3/20/2012 - Suva, Fiji
This morning my research group went to the School of Business, Hospitality and Tourism at Fiji National University to speak with some of the administrators of the program.
Some of the things that stood out were how hard it is to profit when tourists are demanding their native food. Lobster and Alaskan Salmon are not an option for most tourist spots due to the price, while our breakfast buffets always offer things like miso soup, vegemite, and … spaghetti. In order to alleviate this, Fijian chefs have started introducing Fijian food into restaurants in China, NZ, and Australia, the main sources of tourism.
Students who graduate from the program are able to work as waiters or cooks, but rarely make it into management.
In the afternoon, the whole group came out to the pool. It was nice to hang out with everyone, since there are surprisingly few opportunities to do so. They all went out for dinner, but I stayed in, eating the world's most bland hotel Indian fare, and renting Albert Nobbs on demand (loved it).
Some of the things that stood out were how hard it is to profit when tourists are demanding their native food. Lobster and Alaskan Salmon are not an option for most tourist spots due to the price, while our breakfast buffets always offer things like miso soup, vegemite, and … spaghetti. In order to alleviate this, Fijian chefs have started introducing Fijian food into restaurants in China, NZ, and Australia, the main sources of tourism.
Students who graduate from the program are able to work as waiters or cooks, but rarely make it into management.
A Forsaken City
3/19/2012 - Suva, Fiji
This morning's scheduled activity was a cave tour, but having been on quite a few, I opted out. It was a good decision on a few levels. I was grateful to spend the morning napping in the shade by the water, but it also turns out that the "cave tour" ended up being a trek through hot mud, a ramshackle, spider-ridden raft ride across a hot river in the hot sun, a kava ceremony in a hot hut (kava is a tea that is supposed to induce a valium-type feeling. Megan's description: "he put a rock in cloth, poured water over it, and squeezed it out into a muddy bowl. It was just dirt water"), and a brief walk through a cave. The trip (that started at 9AM) was also supposed to last for 2 hours, so when 4 had passed those of us who had stayed behind started to worry.
Meanwhile, the group wasn't alone; the guides informed them they were accompanied by a variety of spirits. For instance, the women had to state whether they were pregnant before entering the cave, and if they lied, the spirit would not allow them in. Fijian spirits like to take their time, so the guides became increasingly agitated as the group insisted they turn around in order to make it back in time for our bus ride to Suva. Thankfully, the spirits happen to be hard up, so the group was able to buy their patience with $20 US, and get the guides to turn around.
After 5 hours, we were calling and texting our trip leaders with no response. After 6, we got ahold of the tour company who assured us that the group would be back at the hotel in a half an hour. An hour and a half later, they were back, sweaty, tired, and upset that the hotel was insisting everyone be charged for the day since they hadn't checked out by noon. In the absence of greedy spirits, the team leaders were able to use their negotiation skills to avoid the charges.
Everyone took a 1-minute shower, threw their stuff into suitcases, and jumped on the bus to Suva.
Goodbye Singatoka, we love you!!
Suva at night is a frightening place. I've been to a lot of poverty-stricken areas, but they were all rural. Arriving in the evening, Suva seemed like a post-apocalyptic city; desolate streets are lined with empty condominium and government buildings, stained and crumbling from years of abandonment. The department of energy is fenced in by chain-links, and its darkness is stark in contrast to the dusk. Men and women slump over against trees on a make-shift mat of palm leaves. Foreign men laugh loudly as drunk Fijian women with heavy makeup and stiletto heels stumble along next to them, giggling. Matted dogs wander by, sniffing gutters, running away if any person (or other dog) gets too close.
We had dinner at the Floating Tiki, which is just a docked boat that serves two kinds of snapper, tuna, steak, mussels and shrimp. Since we were on a boat, there was no air conditioning. I sat next to Yashreeka, who was so visibly hot and uncomfortable by the end of the stifling dinner that some people from the group took her outside for fear of her getting heat stroke.
Our hotel has a pool, but a stone wall patrolled by security guards 24 hours a day blocks it from the water to protect against opportunistic swimmers.
This morning's scheduled activity was a cave tour, but having been on quite a few, I opted out. It was a good decision on a few levels. I was grateful to spend the morning napping in the shade by the water, but it also turns out that the "cave tour" ended up being a trek through hot mud, a ramshackle, spider-ridden raft ride across a hot river in the hot sun, a kava ceremony in a hot hut (kava is a tea that is supposed to induce a valium-type feeling. Megan's description: "he put a rock in cloth, poured water over it, and squeezed it out into a muddy bowl. It was just dirt water"), and a brief walk through a cave. The trip (that started at 9AM) was also supposed to last for 2 hours, so when 4 had passed those of us who had stayed behind started to worry.
Meanwhile, the group wasn't alone; the guides informed them they were accompanied by a variety of spirits. For instance, the women had to state whether they were pregnant before entering the cave, and if they lied, the spirit would not allow them in. Fijian spirits like to take their time, so the guides became increasingly agitated as the group insisted they turn around in order to make it back in time for our bus ride to Suva. Thankfully, the spirits happen to be hard up, so the group was able to buy their patience with $20 US, and get the guides to turn around.
After 5 hours, we were calling and texting our trip leaders with no response. After 6, we got ahold of the tour company who assured us that the group would be back at the hotel in a half an hour. An hour and a half later, they were back, sweaty, tired, and upset that the hotel was insisting everyone be charged for the day since they hadn't checked out by noon. In the absence of greedy spirits, the team leaders were able to use their negotiation skills to avoid the charges.
Everyone took a 1-minute shower, threw their stuff into suitcases, and jumped on the bus to Suva.
Goodbye Singatoka, we love you!!
Suva at night is a frightening place. I've been to a lot of poverty-stricken areas, but they were all rural. Arriving in the evening, Suva seemed like a post-apocalyptic city; desolate streets are lined with empty condominium and government buildings, stained and crumbling from years of abandonment. The department of energy is fenced in by chain-links, and its darkness is stark in contrast to the dusk. Men and women slump over against trees on a make-shift mat of palm leaves. Foreign men laugh loudly as drunk Fijian women with heavy makeup and stiletto heels stumble along next to them, giggling. Matted dogs wander by, sniffing gutters, running away if any person (or other dog) gets too close.
We had dinner at the Floating Tiki, which is just a docked boat that serves two kinds of snapper, tuna, steak, mussels and shrimp. Since we were on a boat, there was no air conditioning. I sat next to Yashreeka, who was so visibly hot and uncomfortable by the end of the stifling dinner that some people from the group took her outside for fear of her getting heat stroke.
Our hotel has a pool, but a stone wall patrolled by security guards 24 hours a day blocks it from the water to protect against opportunistic swimmers.
Paradise
3/18/2012 - Sigatoka, Fiji
In Sigatoka, children are a reminder of how fascinating nature is. Eyes widen as waves sweep friendly translucent purple jellyfish past wading children, bubbly seaweed tickling ankles. A single outstretched arm, tiny finger aimed at the clear water, causes shrieks while everyone hops from foot to foot, obscuring the brightly striped snake in clouds of white sand. The luckiest one picks up an iridescent shell resting against a coral fragment to discover that it has dangling legs. In one second, there's no one there; the hermit crab is being transported for display via 7-year old sprint.
I will never lose my youthful awe when it comes to the night sky. During a late-night swim with Susan and Jason, I spent a long time on my own, staring up at the sky, whispering "wow" to myself over and over. The Milky Way glows from horizon to horizon, more brightly than I've ever seen. The stars shine white, yellow, orange and blue. Around me, silver fish leaped in and out of the water like miniature dolphins, sometimes three or four times in a row. Peter told us we would see starfish too, but we were not so lucky.
Back at the pool, Jason spotted a large crab hanging on to the pool wall for its life, trying to avoid a chlorinated destiny. He pointed it out to our server, who brought a bucket over for him. The crab was too quick, scuttling into a crevice. Giving up, he stood upright and turned to the server, who smiled, leaned down, and picked it up, dropping it into the bucket, plunk.
Most of us on the trip have found a night to stay out and I don't think I could have picked a better one. We hung out on lawn chairs along the beach until 7am in the morning, when the sky was full of streaky pastel clouds.
I will never lose my youthful awe when it comes to the night sky. During a late-night swim with Susan and Jason, I spent a long time on my own, staring up at the sky, whispering "wow" to myself over and over. The Milky Way glows from horizon to horizon, more brightly than I've ever seen. The stars shine white, yellow, orange and blue. Around me, silver fish leaped in and out of the water like miniature dolphins, sometimes three or four times in a row. Peter told us we would see starfish too, but we were not so lucky.
Back at the pool, Jason spotted a large crab hanging on to the pool wall for its life, trying to avoid a chlorinated destiny. He pointed it out to our server, who brought a bucket over for him. The crab was too quick, scuttling into a crevice. Giving up, he stood upright and turned to the server, who smiled, leaned down, and picked it up, dropping it into the bucket, plunk.
Most of us on the trip have found a night to stay out and I don't think I could have picked a better one. We hung out on lawn chairs along the beach until 7am in the morning, when the sky was full of streaky pastel clouds.
Bula!
3/18/2012 – Sugatoka, Fiji
I'm on a 2 hour bus drive from the airport in Fiji to our hotel. There isn't much going on today except travel, so here are some interesting tidbits that didn't fit in logically in my earlier posts:
Being in New Zealand – just being there – is like living in the 90's. It's the nuances. Like how I've heard more Celene Dion and Fiona Apple here than I ever have before. Or how the candy they sell includes Nerds and Mars bars – in the old wrappers.
In Wellington, no one could tell me where the Flight of the Conchords are from. In Queenston, I was informed that they are from Auckland. In Auckland, I was informed that they are from Wellington. I do know one thing for sure though. Every time I asked, "Do you know where the Flight of the Conchords are from?" the person answered with confidence, "New Zealand!" The next time someone asks me where Barack Obama is from, I am going to say, "the United States!"
In New Zealand, the low-income jobs are held almost exclusively by Asian women.
Tattoos from shoulder to wrist are the norm, and there is no attempt to hide them.
The airport security goes so quickly because of how lax it is compared to ours. Each time I go through I try to see how much more I can wear and how much less I can send through the X-Ray Machine. The most I've gotten through with is a watch, a jacket, a scarf, shoes, sunglasses, and a wallet.
They sell special airplane water here – which is exactly like regular water but it has apple cider vinegar in it and apple juice concentrate, for a strange but not wholly unpleasant taste. It is supposed to make your flying experience more comfortable. I bought a bottle, but I didn't recognize any difference from how I normally feel on flights.
New Zealand uses the dollar sign for their currency… because of the exchange rate, I see everything as a bargain, at 10% off the listed price.
I'm on a 2 hour bus drive from the airport in Fiji to our hotel. There isn't much going on today except travel, so here are some interesting tidbits that didn't fit in logically in my earlier posts:
Being in New Zealand – just being there – is like living in the 90's. It's the nuances. Like how I've heard more Celene Dion and Fiona Apple here than I ever have before. Or how the candy they sell includes Nerds and Mars bars – in the old wrappers.
In Wellington, no one could tell me where the Flight of the Conchords are from. In Queenston, I was informed that they are from Auckland. In Auckland, I was informed that they are from Wellington. I do know one thing for sure though. Every time I asked, "Do you know where the Flight of the Conchords are from?" the person answered with confidence, "New Zealand!" The next time someone asks me where Barack Obama is from, I am going to say, "the United States!"
In New Zealand, the low-income jobs are held almost exclusively by Asian women.
Tattoos from shoulder to wrist are the norm, and there is no attempt to hide them.
The airport security goes so quickly because of how lax it is compared to ours. Each time I go through I try to see how much more I can wear and how much less I can send through the X-Ray Machine. The most I've gotten through with is a watch, a jacket, a scarf, shoes, sunglasses, and a wallet.
They sell special airplane water here – which is exactly like regular water but it has apple cider vinegar in it and apple juice concentrate, for a strange but not wholly unpleasant taste. It is supposed to make your flying experience more comfortable. I bought a bottle, but I didn't recognize any difference from how I normally feel on flights.
New Zealand uses the dollar sign for their currency… because of the exchange rate, I see everything as a bargain, at 10% off the listed price.
Happy St. Patty's
3/17/2012 - Queenstown & Auckland, NZ
Today was the last day in Queenstown. Colby and I spent the morning at the bird sanctuary. For a family run organization all of whose advertising is word of mouth, it's a vital part of New Zealand's wildlife conservation efforts.
First we saw a bird show, where a parakeet (which is different from a budgie, which is what we call parakeets; these are gold or red crested green birds who are much bigger than our parakeets, but smaller than parrots) continuously flew from a handler behind us to the presenter. It was trained to swoop as close to our heads as possible, so the handler in the rear moved from the left to the right to make sure that everyone felt the whoosh as it passed next to our heads.
Incoming! A behemoth pigeon flew to the presenter. Its head is the same size as US pigeons, but its body is the size of a bowling ball, with purple and teal feathers. They communicate through flight, and when this one flew back and forth between the presenter and the rear handler, the "swoosh swoosh swoosh" was truly quite loud.
The third creature the presenter brought out to show us was a lizard that is literally one of 4 types of reptiles in the world, in a genus all its own. It's been around since before dinosaurs, lives for 200 years and has three eyes! Due to torpor, he told us, the lizard could live in our refrigerator drawer for 6 months and be perfectly comfortable. The one he showed us was a baby, so he could hold it, but they grow to be quite large.
Did you know that New Zealand, despite having more sheep than people, has no native land mammals besides bats? Did you know that possums here are terrible pests? The British brought them to the islands to control the rabbit populations they had previously introduced. Now they've proliferated so much that they are destructive, bringing down the indigenous kiwi population by the thousands. Even worse, the British also brought stoats, which are weasel/ferret type things. A single stoat eats 40 kiwi eggs a day. Kiwis used to number in the tens of millions before stoats and possums, and now there are only about 70,000. Now you can see why this conservatory is so important; do to the efforts of this conservatory and a few others, the number of kiwis is growing by 2% a year.
Colby and I walked through the forest trails they had set up, and saw all sorts of gorgeous and interesting creatures; morepork owls, a falcon, brown and blue ducks, giant trout (before we discovered that they were trout, I actually thought they were whales – they were that big), and two Kea.
Kea are terrifyingly enormous parrots, whose cage was so big that we had to actually go in it to see them. Around us there were chewed up hiking boots, a Mickey doll in a cage with stuffing coming out its head, a toy tugboat that had big bite marks in it, and other toys similarly destroyed. They squawked to each other out of nowhere and it was so loud both of us jumped.
But most important we got to see… KIWIS!!!!!!! They were in an enclosure so we could only watch them, no interaction or anything, but these birds are seriously cute. Their legs aren't skinny like other birds'; they're as thick as taper candles, and their toes are as thick as my pinkies. That's pretty big for a small bird. From the back, it looked exactly like the rear half of a corgi, because their feathers look like hair. They also rest on their beaks, which are about 7 inches long, for a tripod effect.
After the conservatory, I ate at a famous place called Fergburger. I had a tempura tofu burger which was as big as my face, but so delicious I ate the whole thing up.
Then we were off to the airport again, this time to Auckland. What an amazing city! Auckland is 1.5 million people, the fourth largest city in the world in terms of land mass, and its refreshingly diverse. It was mild for the first time on the trip, so we walked the mile to the coast, passing all sorts of people who were out for St. Patty's day. The city is gorgeous, and we ate on the water, with a delicious to-go ice cream treat for the walk home.
Did you know that New Zealand, despite having more sheep than people, has no native land mammals besides bats? Did you know that possums here are terrible pests? The British brought them to the islands to control the rabbit populations they had previously introduced. Now they've proliferated so much that they are destructive, bringing down the indigenous kiwi population by the thousands. Even worse, the British also brought stoats, which are weasel/ferret type things. A single stoat eats 40 kiwi eggs a day. Kiwis used to number in the tens of millions before stoats and possums, and now there are only about 70,000. Now you can see why this conservatory is so important; do to the efforts of this conservatory and a few others, the number of kiwis is growing by 2% a year.
Colby and I walked through the forest trails they had set up, and saw all sorts of gorgeous and interesting creatures; morepork owls, a falcon, brown and blue ducks, giant trout (before we discovered that they were trout, I actually thought they were whales – they were that big), and two Kea.
But most important we got to see… KIWIS!!!!!!! They were in an enclosure so we could only watch them, no interaction or anything, but these birds are seriously cute. Their legs aren't skinny like other birds'; they're as thick as taper candles, and their toes are as thick as my pinkies. That's pretty big for a small bird. From the back, it looked exactly like the rear half of a corgi, because their feathers look like hair. They also rest on their beaks, which are about 7 inches long, for a tripod effect.
After the conservatory, I ate at a famous place called Fergburger. I had a tempura tofu burger which was as big as my face, but so delicious I ate the whole thing up.
Then we were off to the airport again, this time to Auckland. What an amazing city! Auckland is 1.5 million people, the fourth largest city in the world in terms of land mass, and its refreshingly diverse. It was mild for the first time on the trip, so we walked the mile to the coast, passing all sorts of people who were out for St. Patty's day. The city is gorgeous, and we ate on the water, with a delicious to-go ice cream treat for the walk home.
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