Oh no you Dunedin't! (Part 2 of 2)

Welp, here we are with the promised part 2. It occurred to me that the best part of breaking something up into parts is that you do less in one sitting, and the worst part is that you're obligated to finish what you started.
WAIT! Don't go!
It's not that I don't want to tell you all about the trip, its just that I lost my steam. I should have just kept writing til 3 am. Let's see if I can recapture the magic. Maybe some pictures will jog my memory.
(I apologize in advance if I'm coming off as that uncle that keeps coming by with slides of his vacation in Tahiti. The one who immediately upon arrival asks if you've got anything in the fridge and then puts his feet up on the coffee table. I'm not trying to be "that guy". I'm just working off the old [picture=thousandwords] bit. this saves me a lot of work.)

The first of many many many sheep I saw. Eventually I had tired myself out in the backseat from "Awwwwwwwww"-ing too much.

So we landed with Phillip (Miriam's bro-ski) and Kate (his ladyfriend) in tow, we were promptly greeted at the airport by our guide for the weekend: Lily. Now a quick aside on Lily:

This is one hard-up chick, she will make you sleep in the car, go barefoot and a million other things that a city-boy such as myself is terribly terribly uncomfortable with. However, this does not breed resentment, but the very opposite. She hippie-charmed her way into my heart over the course of the weekend and I can proudly say I now have friends in multiple NZ cities.

Lily's feet. Not shown: Lily

So we had transportation! The entirety of the South Island was at our command! First stop was the farmers market for an amaaaaaaazing crepe (made by real french people? madness!) and to meet up with Miriam's folks (Wendy and Leslie, and no, she doesn't have two moms). Things got a bit muddled for a bit and there was a quick round of pass-the-Elliot. And I finally decided upon heading out with Miriam and mum. In hindsight, maybe I should have headed with Lily, Phillip and Kate. The next 5 hours was a literal train of dresses, hats, shoes, more dresses, shopping shopping shopping. I managed to occupy myself by having at least 3 coffees around town (this place has turned me into an addict!) and reading whatever magazines the stores had on hand, I now know everything that you could possibly want to know about the Beckham's ailing marriage. Great.

But, we were victorious! Mirri came out with a boatload of stuff, so did her mom. And Elliot? Too poor to afford anything (more like nothing of note really came up) and caffeine addled. Not bad for a mid-afternoon, hey?

Mirri's new hat and our lovely host/chauffeur Lily.

Plans were made for dinner, and us youngsters were once again free to explore the wonders of Dunedin. And what is more wondrous than the Guinness World Record holding steepest street in the world!

Baldwin Street. I pity any child living at the top, they never asked for this life.

And did we climb that shit? Hells yeah we did! Mirri ran maybe half the distance, I chugged along slowly. All the while playing the Rocky theme in my head. Epic.

The next afternoon was the wedding, so it was up to me and Lily to find adventure by ourselves. I've made it pretty obvious that I'm keen on seeing all the NZ wildlife I can, so we were off to the albatross sanctuary. Unfortunately it costs a pretty penny to get in, and I ain't no tourist chump. Fortunately you can stand outside the gates and there's a pretty spectacular view there. We didn't see any albatross, but there was a penguin and roughly a million seagulls.

The freaky alien looking things hanging off the rocks is actually this crazy type of kelp. The penguin we saw dove into them and was never seen again :(

Cliffjumping would be cool. if it weren't guaranteed to be cold as all hell.

Afterwards, dinner and waiting for Mirri to return so we could rest up in preparation for Queenstown. She regaled us with stories of flamboyantly gay men (did I mention this was a civil union between two dudes? Way to go New Zealand!) raving about her and her hat. We discussed travel plans, itineraries, and how terrible waking up at 7 was going to be.
A mildly fitful sleep later, the house had a cat and apparently I had taken over its bed, and we were on the road!

I wish I could say I knew a single thing about this church, or even what city it was in, but I don't. Deal with it.

The beautiful township of Rocks Berg. Or Roxburgh as they claim.

Road trips, is there anything finer? It is the last shining bastion of hope in this facebook/twitterverse of fake friends and slight acquaintances. A true test of friendship, as you'll either come out wanting to kill one another or wishing that you could just all drive forever. Pack a car full of kids, send them along with only the slightest of agendas and watch the bonding commence. Stopping at gigantic plastic fruits on the side of the road (this actually happened), taking a half hour detour just to see the worlds largest nickel (soz Sudbury, I ain't doin that shiz) and other ridiculous things suddenly seem like such good ideas. Food tastes better when your dinner table is the hood of a car, and you gain a sudden appreciation for being able to stretch your legs. I could honestly go on for days, but I'll just cut myself short. I just hope you come away with the sudden desire to go on a wild and reckless road trip.

Anyways, we passed through a variety of little towns, sampled various culinary delights and stopped anywhere we found even remotely interesting. That said, it probably took us 6 hours to make our way from Dunedin to Queenstown. Not too shabby. One of our last stops on the way into town was the bungee jump, the World's First Bungee Jump! It was fun to watch, but at $189 a pop it didn't really sell me, y'know? I wanna get more bang for my buck, maybe something a little higher. Maybe Queenstown will have something a little more interesting.

That said, it looks like a pretty sweet job.

Not me. Unfortunately.

Queenstown, A.K.A. Kiwi-Whistler. What a tourist extravaganza! I can honestly say the only two Kiwi accents I heard over the two days were my traveling companions. I kind of missed foreigners, it's kind of rad to laugh at Germans behind their back because they sound funny. Aw, I miss that stuff. I hate being the foreign one...but then again I love it too. Its really fun having your entire world be new again, to annoy your friends with questions about brands of chips or how to catch the bus. We grabbed a beer at Mirri's new favorite (and my new least favorite) place, the Pig and Whistle. Once we were rested properly, we decided to get productive and hit the information booth in order to inquire about number 1 on my bucket list: a threesome skydiving. I booked myself onto a plane for the next morning, and couldn't stop grinning for the next 24 hours. We decided to fill our hours until nightfall with a gondola ride, a couple of luge races and some delicious eats.

The view from the gondola, don't look down!

It's like Mario Kart, but in real life.

So, the one strike for the trip came at nightfall. If you have the choice of saving $20 and sleeping in the car, or paying to stay in the backpackers, pick the option that provides you with a bed and more than an hour of uninterrupted sleep. I don't think my neck will ever forgive me. And to think that I thought I was getting the sweet deal with calling the back seat. Cars here are absolutely minuscule compared to back home, so I was essentially sleeping in a clown car, with two seats directly on top of me and my legs pretzel'd into oblivion. I'm not afraid to admit that at times I prayed for death that night. Maybe something simple like a meteor crushing the car, or maybe a brain aneurysm. I suppose I have to be thankful for surviving though, as it allowed me to live on and do the most ridiculous thing I've ever thought of.

Suit up! I gotta admit, flightsuits are pretty ballin.

Was I scared? Nah, not at all. Well, maybe a little but I was way too jacked up on adrenaline to consider it. Mirri and Lily were my cheerleaders on the ground and managed to snap a couple shots of me coming down. I last minute switched into the 15000 foot (dat's a lotta feet!) option and was called in to suit myself up. I was introduced to Ralph, a real rad dude from South Africa who would be jumping with me, no solos yet! When I was getting zipped up into the jumpsuit was probably when reality kicked in. I was gonna get in a plane, go up to 15 THOUSAND feet and then jump out? What? I mused a little on how crazy people are, willing to go against every single evolutionary impulse in order to have some fun. We all got loaded into the plane, 9 of us sitting basically lap-sies on one another and started the ascent. It was loud, cramped, and you could feel the tension in the air as the three newbies amongst our crew (plus 3 photographers, plus 3 actual jumpers) tried to steel ourselves, but what a view! Everything kind of melted away once I looked out over the Remarkables (at first it sounds like a goofy name, but then I realize that we called ours the "Rockies". Face it, explorers aren't exactly geniuses when it comes to naming things.). From the ground, you only see the face of the mountains, but when you're up that high you really get a feeling of how insignificant we are compared to the world around us. It was nothing but snowy peaks all the way to the horizon in almost every direction. No wonder it became such a resort town.
Ralph had been keeping me posted on the altitude as we climbed, and once we hit 15000 feet the air had literally turned electric. I would be the last to jump, and watched in anticipation as the plane slowly emptied. While you don't actually get to physically jump from the plane, as the trained expert strapped to you does that while you hang in the void, you do get the most intense feeling of a roller coaster cresting that big hill. You're unsure of when you're actually going to start falling, and every little twitch feels like the big one.  It must have only been 3 seconds hanging out that door, but it could have been days. And then suddenly we just glided forward, it didn't even feel like a jump, but instead like we were a puppet whose strings had been cut. It was amazing how quickly 45 seconds of freefall went. I had turned my head down for a moment and experienced 200kph winds flood my lungs. I just wanted to look around forever, the ground was rushing up to meet us and I could truly imagine how the birds must feel. Forgive me if I come across as emotional, but this was literally a spiritual experience. I cannot recommend skydiving enough to anyone who is tempted to give it a try.
And all of a sudden, the chute got pulled, and we were yanked back upwards, only to begin drifting back down. Except drifting down in a parachute isn't as leisurely as it sounds. You're still falling, fast, but not so fast that you're about to make a person pancake. Ralph showed me how to turn left and right, and how to do a wingover. Essentially a left followed by a sharp right, or vice versa, creating a barrel roll type effect. We did a half dozen of these and then plummeted down towards the landing field. I was warned that we'd most likely land on our asses, which we did, and we skidded maybe 15 feet before coming to a complete stop. My heart rate has never been the same.

I know you can't tell, but that's me up there! And some other dude, but mostly me!

Nice and easy.

After landing, and my obligatory victory lap, I just couldn't even put simple sentences together. I was still up there, and would remain there for the rest of the day. I've never enjoyed something so thoroughly as that jump. It's unfortunate the video and picture packages were so damned expensive, I would have loved to be able to relive it. Then again, I figure I can just do another jump sometime, it must get damned addictive. Makes sense for the guys working there, what a job that would be.
The rest of the trip after that was just a blur, all you need to know is we arrived home save and sound. I noshed on a lot of south island delicacies such as cheese rolls (yet another traditional NZ food that involves white bread). And Mirri and I were (almost) sick of each other by the time we caught our flight back.

Halloween was yesterday (well today actually, but we went out yesterday) and I sure put a doozy of a costume together. But we'll come to that another time ok? Thanks for tuning in.

Yours at 200kph from 15000 feet,
The Talented Mr. Fisher