Well, 2016 has already provided us with three tumultuous months, but Suzanne, Rudy, Gretchen and I are on the road in our motor coach, again for just over six months and about 10,000 miles. We plan to visit 17 states, with Suzanne scheduled for 25 events so far - it seems the list grows weekly. You can find her schedule of events on her web site, www.loveatthecenter.com. I apologize for not having blogged recently, but it's been insanely hectic...
Having moved about 30
times since leaving home for the Navy, I had always intended that our home on Little River Path would be my last. That intention remained valid for 8 years, longer than I had lived in any house since I was a kid. We were comfortable there, Suzanne had the
house just the way she liked it, and Rudy and Gretchen loved chasing geckos on
the lanai. The garage was even (relatively) in a modicum of disorder. But there was this itch to
scratch... could we find a place with a better view? Colorado, Wyoming and
Minnesota were out; I'm too old to shovel snow. Utah and Arizona? Nah, not
enough trees. How about something closer? While on a bike ride, we saw a
"For Sale" sign on a house here in The Villages with an amazing view,
and only 5 miles away. Fast forward a few weeks, two contracts were signed and we were planning our move. Our new house is a bit larger and has a nice view of some old live oak trees dripping with Spanish moss (Tillandsia usneoidies).
March also provided us with an unexpected crisis for our 11 year old long-haired Dachshund Rudy. An abnormal blood test following a 15% body weight loss and a prolonged upset tummy had us driving up to the E.R. of the University of Florida Small Animal Hospital. Two overnight stays and many tests later, Rudy was diagnosed with a probable severe food allergy, and is now on a hypoallergenic diet. No more regular treats, chicken or cheese, but after 2 weeks on his new diet, he is gaining weight and acting like his old self.
Suzanne has been busy preparing several new workshops and presenting one to an Energy Meditation Group here in The Villages. She is also working on a DVD of her Your Emerging Soul workshop that will be available within the next month. My "paperwork drills", as we called them in the Navy, were mostly new mortgage and IRS tax form-related. (I am still praying for a flat tax; hope springs eternal with every election cycle).
The last 14 days have been a whirlwind. We packed up our household goods, put them in storage for a week, cleaned the house, made some minor repairs, closed on our old house, lived in the coach for 8 nights at Grand Oaks (a local horse farm and carriage museum), moved into our new house, and started our road trip... there was even time to get a few hours sleep in that schedule, but anyone who knows My Lovely Bride knows that when she has a major task at hand (I think moving into a new house qualifies under that term), she can be focused like a laser beam. I remember the first night in the new house, when we got to bed around midnight, I woke up at 4:00 AM to find her up emptying boxes and filling closets. But I must now mention that my sanity in particular was saved during this move by our good friends Elizabeth, Bob and Jan. Elizabeth spent two days unpacking most of the kitchen boxes and refilling our cabinets, while Bob saved my aching back when he provided his wonderful F-350 truck for hauling mirrors and garage cabinets from Lowes, and helping me put one of the 189-lb. beasts together.
The most important thing: MLB is happy. As we left our new home after sleeping only five nights in it, Suzanne said that she could feel the love that surrounds our new abode and is looking forward to sharing that love with all who enter it in the coming years.
Every now and then you hear a word that sounds just like something you're familiar with, but then you realize it's not what you originally thought of... One recent example arose when I was listening to the radio (for Super-Techies, that's an antique box that sits on a shelf and transmits words and music from a speaker). I thought I had heard the word "Rastafarian", the term for members of an Abrahamic belief which developed in Jamaica in the 1930s. But no, what I heard was actually "Pastafarian", a parody of organized religion which started with a letter from an Oregon State University physics grad to the Kansas board of education protesting the teaching of intelligent design as an alternative to evolution.
The author suggested that the universe was actually created by an invisible and undetectable Flying Spaghetti Monster (FSM). Another of his arguments (supported by bar graphs) is that global warming is the direct effect of a reduction in the number of pirates sailing the Seven Seas. Pastafarianism/FSMism has now been recognized as a religion in Poland, The Netherlands and New Zealand (Sheree, you had better keep an eye on those folks), and a woman in Massachusetts even had her driver's license photo taken with her religious headgear in place... My Lovely Bride is shown here cooking pasta while wearing the particular headgear adopted by Pastafarians. (No, she is not going off the deep end, just modeling!)
Okay, shifting gears... we haven't had much rain recently here in Central Florida, but one day there were enough raindrops on our lanai screens to use my macro lens to get a real close-up of a drop of water, with the inverted image of our hedge residing inside. It's almost like there's a tiny world hidden in that raindrop... who knows, maybe there's another level of reality there?
Continuing on more serious spiritual topics, Suzanne presented her Your Emerging Soul workshop twice in the past two weeks, and each was S.R.O. and received extremely well by participants. She will be presenting this workshop again as part of her Unity Village Retreat 24-26 June in Lee's Summit, Missouri (outside Kansas City). See her web site www.suzannegiesemann.com for more information.
Attendees for the Y.E.S. workshop traveled from far and wide; Irene Vouvalides and three friends drove down from Hilton Head, and several others flew in from Dallas, Connecticut, St. Louis and Pennsylvania.
The weather here in Central Florida has been spectacular, with warm, dry, sunny days and cool nights. Our Pack has gotten out for several forest hikes; here we see My Lovely Bride with our sweet little Gretchen (AKA Ten Pounds of Fighting Fury) riding in her backpack. It is always funny when we pass other hikers and then point out our Dachshunds riding comfortably on our backs.
This particular hike was near Inverness, FL, on the Citrus Loop in Withlacoochee State Forest's Citrus Wildlife Management Area (49,000 acres). I have backpacked here in previous years, and we found one tiny campsite that a thoughtful, friendly person had marked with a colorful wind wheel and a Welcome sign. Rudy (seen here in my backpack) wanted to spend the night (there were squirrels galore in these oak trees), but we hadn't brought tents and sleeping bags on this dayhike.
Those of you who may be wearing one of Suzanne's beautiful coin pendants (which she designed, by the way) may wonder if she uses overseas labor to make them. This photo taken of her sweatshop workers proves that there is no overseas or child labor involved, but I can vouch that they don't get union-mandated breaks, either. (Many thanks to Ruthie, Jan and Bob!)
Finally, I have to mention that one of the attendees at Suzanne's Y.E.S. workshop recognized the contributions that "That One's" long-suffering husband makes. Her comment, "Suzanne, I want to tell you that Ty is a saint... maybe we should call him Saint Ty!" I can't understand why, but many attendees laughed at this pronouncement. I saw the truth, if not the humor, in her obviously accurate comment. I explained all this to my spiritual adviser and guru after we got home, but all he had to say was "Ommm..."
I love signs. Not only are they (sometimes) informative, but they are often amusing. The first was observed on the back of a landscaping trailer here in The Villages. (I hope the owner is named "Prissi", but I'm not hopeful...)
The second sign was outside a local financial planning company (which shall go nameless, for military cooperation reasons)... the funniest thing about this sign was that when I mentioned the misspellings to the girl at the desk, she asked me, "Wow, were you an English teacher?" "No, I was a naval officer, but I had to write a lot." "Oh, that explains it; I'm the wife of a Navy yeoman, and the sign was written by a former Air Force guy. Wait until he hears he was pimped by the Navy!" Anchors Away, Birdman!!!
Those readers familiar with the US Navy know that during most of the 20th Century, and especially after WW II, thousands of sailors were recruited from the Philippines. Service in the US Navy was a path to good pay, training and citizenship for young men who otherwise would have few opportunities back home. When I served aboard ships from 1968 until 1990, many of our crewmen were born in the "P.I." Many were cooks and stewards, and for thousands of American sailors, their first taste of Asian cuisine was pancit, chicken or pork adobo, and lumpia served aboard ship or ashore in Subic Bay or Manila when their deployed ships pulled in for R&R during Vietnam. Suzanne's first taste of these culinary delights was at CINCLANTFLT headquarters in Norfolk, and more followed at every duty station until she retired. So it was no surprise that when we got married, pancit and lumpia were front and center on the serving line at our reception.
Fast forward to last week, and she was having some physical therapy done on her elbow, and everyone in the office was from the Philippines. She mentioned our wedding menu, and after looks of amazement from the staff, one of the ladies said, "I'm bringing you pancit on your next visit." Sure enough, a few days later we were enjoying it at lunch, and then a few days later a gift of lumpia followed. The ladies also told her about a Filipino restaurant in Leesburg, so one day we took Suzanne's Lovely Mom Ruthie on an outing for lunch. As soon as Ruthie sat down, a cute little Filipina girl about 4 years old came over and starting talking to her and showing Ruthie her iPhone. They had a fun chat while we ordered.
The food was delicious and authentic, and every other diner surely used Tagalog as their primary language. We were the only Anglos there, and it brought back many fond memories to both of us retired Navy officers. For those in our area, you can find great food at very reasonable prices at the First Asian Grocery on Route 44 in Leesburg.
Two incidents that occurred on our outing bear recounting. On the drive to Leesburg, we were delayed in a traffic jam by a tractor parade crossing the road, complete with county sheriff escort. Imagine our surprise an hour or so later when we found ourselves in a deja vu moment when we got caught by the same parade in a different location. I'm not a tractor expert, but My Good Friend Bob (formerly Farmer Bob) could probably tell you more about this tractor than you ever thought possible. (They were apparently from a local tractor museum where Bob is said to have a lifetime membership.)
Speaking of outdoor activities, winter in Florida is a great time for backpacking on the Florida Trail, which runs from Pensacola to Miami. I got out this week for a two-day trip, which allowed me to lighten my backpack from the 40 lbs I was carrying on the Appalachian Trail to 22 lbs, a huge benefit. For example, I replaced my compressed gas backpacker's stove with a tiny Esbit fuel tab stove (weight savings: about 8 ounces).
My destination was Hidden Pond, a pretty spot to spend the night and a reliable water source. You would think that water isn't a problem while hiking in Florida, but the sandy soil and karst limestone geology makes for unusual water hydrology. Rainfall is soaked up quickly, and while there are lots of ponds scattered about, they are often surrounded by muddy marsh, and reliably-flowing creeks are actually quite few and far between. I arrived at Hidden Pond late in the day, and thought about a quick dip, but (a) there might be a lurking gator looking for dinner, and (b) I hadn't brought a swim suit, and even though I hadn't seen a soul in hours, fer sure if I went skinny-dipping, a troop of Girl Scouts would arrive and I would be caught in flagrante delicto, so to speak... "not a pretty sight"...
I pitched my luxurious, not-politically-correct, one-man tent in a grove of live oaks festooned with Spanish moss. I was careful not to set up under any large overhanging limbs (called "widow-makers" by backpackers) and had a home-freeze-dried dinner of chicken with a cherry sauce. (Note to self: remember to bring the salt next time; MLB uses none when cooking, and I forgot that necessary spice when packing.) A walk around the area gave me a sense of solitude, wilderness and tragedy; this was the site of the brutal murders of two college students by a 19 year old psychopath in 2006. Sentenced to life without parole, he later killed his cellmate. (Sometimes "solitary" isn't such a bad idea.) I had no other neighbors, probably for five miles in any direction, except for the owls, Sandhill cranes and a pack of coyotes who gave me a reveille call for about five minutes just before sunrise. It was only a little unnerving listening to the pack's yips and howls; attacks on humans are exceedingly rare.
I only met one other overnight backpacker on my two day outing on the FT in Ocala National Forest. Alex is from Ukraine, and was out for a week or so. That's about the limit of food one can carry, and that's eating light. Alex saw my Ocala Half Marathon tee-shirt and mentioned that he was also a marathoner, with a personal best time of 3:09; mine was 3:12, back when I was Alex's age... gosh, that was more than 5 years ago, as I recall. Alex and I met while I was watching some Sandhill cranes; he was about 25 yards away listening to "a strange noise"; I helped him with the identification of a big bull gator making mating sounds (a low guttural
rumble like a motorcycle starting up in the distance). We chatted, and
he mentioned thinking about walking closer to the gator to get a picture for friends back in Ukraine, since the marsh grass was in the way. "Um, Alex, that might not be the best idea you've ever had..."
I would like to thank our good friend Lynette Setzkorn from Tulsa for a very thoughtful brass key chain/dog tag she sent me with some lyrics from a Pink song. I think that Lynette was surprised that an old guy like me would like Pink's work. Hey, I appreciate talent when I hear it, and she has such a subdued, "girl-next-door" style...
Finally, I received a missive the other night from our great buddy in Colorado, Army Colonel "Crusty" Charles Cunis, who was making fun of Floridians for wearing parkas with hoods, gloves and boots when the temperature drops to 72F. To prove the Good Colonel's disparaging remarks wrong, I sent him the following photo of a Florida golfer ready for an evening on the links when the temp actually reached a frigid 59F, and as you can see, he's not even wearing boots! Crusty can send his spare snow shovel to Terri of the Frozen North, who has far more need for it than us Floridians...
As I age (somewhat gracefully, one hopes), jet lag is getting tougher to take. For almost two weeks after our return from New Zealand, while My Lovely Bride adapted very quickly and slept like an angel, I was awaking between 0200 and 0300, and often not getting back to sleep at all. I would go for long walks in our neighborhood, when the only other humans out were the community watch and the newspaper guy. It wasn't all bad - middle of the night walks are great for reflection, listening to music (headphones, not a boom box held up to my ear, although the boom box option would have provided an extra upper body workout and given my neighbors an opportunity to enjoy my music... hmmm...), observing the night sky and sunrise, and of course the benefit of exercise itself. But sleep is a glorious invention, and my mental state was suffering more than usual from the disruption of my circadian clock. After all, 0200 is when the body is normally enjoying the deepest sleep of the cycle.
Finally back on a regular sleep schedule, we are back in the routine of Life in The Villages. One of our favorite pastimes is mountain biking, and last week we loaded our trusty Giant bikes on the car's rack and drove to Santos Trailhead. We were a half hour into our ride, having seen nary a single other rider, when we stopped for a water break. We heard wheels behind us, and through the woods came a young couple wearing Team Giant jerseys. Jess and Joel Nankman were obviously professional riders, and as we chatted, we noticed that their bikes were basically the same as ours, although theirs were the top-of-the-line professional models and ours a notch or two below; the guys were riding Giant Anthems and the women Giant Lusts. Of course we joked about the girls being "lusty". (You just can't make this stuff up.) Based in PA, Jess and Joel travel around the East Coast racing for Team Giant (the men's team) and Team Liv (the women's team), living out of a van with their Lab Clifford. Both of these riders have dozens of trophies and podium finishes to their credit, and we truly admire their skill and stamina.
Speaking of dogs, our Dachshunds Rudy and Gretchen are glad to have us back from New Zealand, although we wondered whether their surrogate parents Marc and Maureen would dog-nap them before we got home. We learned from neighbors that our puppies were even more spoiled by our dog/house-sitters than by us, and there were some hang-dog expressions on the puppies' faces when M&M left to return to North Carolina. If we ever go away on a trip again, we'll know who to call to make our pups happy. We recently took Rudy and Gretchen out on hikes to the Cross-Florida Greenway and to Sumter Landing, carrying them in our backpacks. We would have walked them beside us, but Rudy in particular cannot go five feet without sniffing and marking his territory.
We got to visit the new Sharon Morse Performing Arts Center here in The Villages for an Amore performance by renowned tenor Fernando Varela and his amazingly talented wife Susan Williams. Here we see Suzanne and Her Lovely Mom Ruthie in our front row center seats (I happened to see the ad in the paper on the day the concert was first announced, and ran down to the ticket office to be first in line for this splendid performance.) We also enjoyed the inspired pianist William Joseph and an amazing violinist, the lovely Molly Rogers.
We were able to get away"off the compound" for a day trip with friends "to Winter Park, FL, near Orlando. Gayle and Bill Hancock (on the left) and Donna and Ron Virgilio (on the right) were great companions for lunch at a Turkish restaurant (awesome naan bread), a visit to the Charles Hosmer Morse Museum (world-famous collection of Tiffany glass, but no photos allowed, darn it!), a brief stop at the Wine Room for teeny libations, and a grocery run to Trader Joe's. Thanks, Ron, for being the Designated Driver!
While in Winter Park, we saw several unusual trees in the town's Central Park. I think this one was designed to stop our Rudy from marking it... ouch... talk about cruel and unusual punishment!
The weather here in central Florida has been glorious, warm sunny days and cool nights, even better than that in Minnesnowta and the Northeast. Yes, Terri, I know that Coon Rapids (center of the Greater Minneapolis-St. Paul Dogsled District) has been having a heat wave courtesy of El Nino; and our good friends Mike and Beth Pasakarnis (Wolf's parents) have been enjoying some decent weather in Mashpee, Mass, on Cape Cod, after a recent snowstorm. After seeing the extensive glacial valley-cutting in New Zealand during our recent trip, I won't belabor the arguments against global warming, but simply say that warmer winters are not necessarily all bad. These smiling tourists are obviously not chilled to the bone.
Valentine's Day provided an opportunity to take My Lovely Bride out for a fabulous dinner at the Arnold Palmer Country Club here in The Villages. The food was exceptional and my date was beautiful. What more could a guy ask for?
On a sad note, I have to admit to failing on one of my important assignments while Down Under. Before we left, our dear friend Terri of the Frozen North (TOTFN) asked me to find one of her childhood heroines and get an autograph. I looked and looked, but could not find Xena Warrior Princess or her blonde sidekick Gabrielle; and given their leather and steel outfits with sword and spear, they should have been easy to find. Maybe they had taken a vacation to Ely, MN, to go ice fishing... but not in those skimpy clothes! (I offered to buy Suzanne a black warrior princess rig like Xena is wearing, you know, for special occasions, but got a Harumph! and a Smack! for my initiative. Sigh...)
Finally, this photo of My Lovely Bride working at our kitchen table provides a bit of mystery... what IS she doing??? The answer suggests yet another reason in addition to my jet lag why I have not been blogging as often as usual lately. More info to follow in days and weeks ahead...
Christchurch, our penultimate stop in New Zealand, is the country's third largest city with 381,000 residents. It is often referred to as ChCh here. It was struck by terrible earthquakes in 2010, 2011 and 2012 which severely damaged buildings throughout the city and killed 185 people (all in the 2011 quake). The city is still rebuilding, and historic landmarks like the cathedral are still fenced off and awaiting reconstruction. We learned some of the personal history of these events when Suzanne wanted to visit a craft fair. I was wandering around and met a local artist, Dennie (Denise) McCulloch. A youthful and spry 90 years old, she has an infectious joie de vivre and an impish sparkle in her eyes.
Dennie lived on the hill above downtown ChCh, and on the afternoon of 22 February, 2011, had just left her house to check the post (mail) when the quake hit - her house collapsed within 9 seconds. She would have died sitting at her piano, but fortunately is here to continue painting watercolors and meeting people. I am proud to have on my desk one of Dennie's watercolors, this one of the town of Akaroa, to remind me of her indomitable spirit.
This was ChCh Cathedral before the quake; today, the heavily damaged structure is surrounded by a tall, ugly wooden barricade to keep people from getting hurt if another tremor hits and it collapses.
Akaroa (pop. 567) was one of our last stops of the trip; it is a town on the Banks Peninsula east of Christchurch, and is a popular tourist destination. It can host as many as 15,000 visitors on a summer weekend, but was much less crowded during our visit. While walking around the waterfront, we met a young Scots guy named Hardie throwing a boomerang. We mentioned that he was really good, and he said, "I should be; I've been throwing these things for 20 years!" Surprisingly, most of his throws actually returned close enough for him to catch.
Akaroa was originally intended to be settled by French immigrants, but when they arrived, they found that the British had gotten wind of their voyage and sent a ship to claim the area for themselves. But several original French cottages survive, many businesses fly tricolor flags, and menus include items like pate de fois gras and coq au vin, rather than Scottish haggis or English fish and chips. This church, originally Roman Catholic, is now Anglican. (Anyone remember Henry VIII?).
While on this day trip, we took our last N.Z. hike, up rugged Montgomery Peak. The trail began with a deceptively gentle grade with some amazing trees to admire, like this twisted tree which a visiting tree-hugger has latched onto. (Notice that she is neither sweating nor even glistening.)
In a quarter-mile or so, the trail steepened dramatically...
The view from the top, though, was worth every steep step. Oddly, even though this was a Saturday afternoon, we met not a single soul during our two and a half hour trek.
While I tried to catch my wind and stop sweating, Suzanne took a few moments to meditate.
The drive back to ChCH was typical: slow progress on narrow, windy roads. This is great motorcycle country, and we did meet one couple, Pete and Kristin from Dunedin, who travel extensively on Pete's big Beamer. They even bike around Australia, up into the bush on barely improved dirt and gravel roads. Like many Kiwis, Pete is a very friendly guy. I was admiring his ride when he asked if I was enjoying En Zed. Back home, admiring some dude's hog outside a biker bar might get you stomped... Actually, we met also two N.Z. Harley riders in Arthur's Pass; they were just pulling up to a bar/cafe, and I mentioned that back in the US, Harleys couldn't ever make it past a bar without stopping. I think they were amused...
Have I mentioned that the roads here are different? None are very straight for more than 1 km. This keeps the speed down to a reasonable 62 mph in the straights and 30 mph in the corners, but since corners outnumber straights 25:1, progress across country can be somewhat slow. I have previously mentioned the one-lane bridges, one of which is shared with a train track, which must be "interesting" when you're coming back from the pub. It doesn't help when they drive on the wrong side of the road and give you a rental car with bass-ackward controls. My Lovely Bride was often laughing at me when I pulled out to pass someone and flicked the wipers on instead of the turn signal. "Hey, at least we have a very clean windscreen!" We arrived safely back in the city for a final dinner before turning in the car. MLB dressed up for the occasion, so I had to take her someplace nice. The restaurant at the Curator's Cottage in the city's Botanical Gardens had a fabulous tapas style menu, but we opted for the lamb shank and a delicious local grouper.
We flew to Auckland the next day, and had dinner with our dear friend Sheree before departing for Oz and the USA early the following morning. We warned her about all the visitors she might be seeing after our praises of her native land get around our group of friends and acquaintances, and she hopes that you all come down. It had been a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime vacation to one of the world's most scenic places, and meeting so many friendly New Zealanders made the trip extra special. I think I made a few brownie points with My Lovely Bride for planning and executing this adventure.
After 27 hours and three flights, we made it back to Orlando International. To save on 22 days parking fees, we had engaged a local driver's service (Jerry Schwartz of The Villages) to drop us off and pick us up at MCO. Jerry was super, and we recommend him highly. It's great to be back at home with our babies, Rudy and Gretchen. We are still recovering from jet lag, and my good judgment may be suffering a bit. One example: I was on the computer and MLB walked over and said, "Ty, what's that Avatar with the cute blond chick on your screen? Are you chatting?" "Love of My Life, I was simply getting some advice on some nice wine from Brandi, this helpful young lady on a wine web site. Do you think we can find space in a cabinet for 20 cases of some great 2013 Napa Cabernet Sauvignon?" "Ty, don't be a blockhead. You're at least twice her age; she's not going to meet you for a drink; it's highly unlikely she looks anything like that picture; and more than likely 'Brandi' is really some bearded 325 lb. guy named Bubba working out of a garage in Oshkosh." Smack! Well, there go my brownie points... Sigh...
Our next stop on the South Island was to Invercargill, the southernmost city in New Zealand. But before we left Fiordlands National Park, we had a couple more hikes to complete. The first started on the Te Anau - Milford Sound Highway. It began in a delightful mossy forest; here we see an Intrepid Hiker working her way carefully down a steep hillside... the "trail" leveled out after this and followed a small stream for a mile or so.
Next was one of the most popular hikes in the park, up to Key Summit on the Routeburn Track, another of New Zealand's Great Tracks. Within the first mile was this small but lovely waterfall. The trail was far from crowded, although we passed a group of Americans our age that were on a guided REI (Recreational Equipment, Inc.) Adventure tour.
The panoramic views of the Humboldt and Darran Mountains would have been spectacular in clear weather; at the top by a cold mountain tarn, with occasional rain, high winds, fog and low clouds, it was merely dramatic and awe-inspiring...
Occasionally the fog and clouds would clear a bit for a good photo op; and in this case, a clear day would not have been nearly so dramatic...
This chilly hiker was elated in having been a well-prepared Girl Scout - she was ready for the wind chill factor with a fleece under her windbreaker, gloves and a hood to keep her hair from becoming too windswept...
The drive to Invercargill was less mountainous than Fiordland National Park, but these next two images give you an idea that the scenery remained stunningly beautiful, if not as rugged...
At the bottom of the South Island of New Zealand, you run out of road. Next stop after this beach and the peninsula in the background is Antarctica, but it's a long, cold swim! (Oh, and again, there was not a single person in sight on the beach in either direction. Is there a theme here?)
The summer weather was getting milder down on the coast, and My Lovely Bride decided to dress in a more beachy style...
This part of the South Island is very sparsely settled, so we had brought lunch in a bag and a salad for an impromptu tailgate at Cozy Nook, a tiny cove where several fishermen had their cottages. It was a scenic stop, and the food was yummy, but we had forgotten to buy plastic forks, so we ate the salad with our fingers. "Suzanne, no photos, please!"
Being out in the boonies, this was the only "facility" for miles and miles. It reminded me of the tres chic outdoor privy our friends Joyce and Sharon had in their front yard for months during home renovations... but this upgraded model even came with fresh flowers! It was provided for the local fishermen, whose houses were perched on the rocks above the high tide line, and it was not without a bit of humor. Note the writing on the door: "Long Drop Lodge -Short stay only."
These windswept trees give you an idea of the winds that buffet this coast year-round. We are in the Roaring Forties, which describe the wind pattern that circles the globe between 40 and 50 degrees South latitude with almost no land masses to slow them down.
One of our favorite stops was at Curio Bay, where a petrified forest in the tidal zone is the spot to see endangered yellow-eyed penguins (affectionately called YEPs) (Megadyptes antipodes). We arrived before dusk and stayed for an hour, and had a front row seat for this guy's return from fishing. Others were said to be coming at or after dark, but hunger made us bid farewell before the rest of his clan returned to shore. This is one of the world's most endangered penguin species, with only 4,000 or so remaining. They are about 24-31 inches long and weigh about 12-18 lbs, and 90% of their diet is fish. They fledge at about 3-4 months of age and are totally independent after their first trip to sea.
The next day gave us a chance to see one of the world's greatest travelers, the Royal Albatross (Diomedia epomophora), at the Royal Albatross Centre at Taiaroa Head on the Otago Peninsula. We were fortunate to receive a semi-private tour with one other couple, narrated by an extraordinary guide named Suzanne, who lives near the world-famous albatross colony here. MLB is shown here alongside a life-size model of the Royal Albatross, with its 10 foot wingspan.
We then proceeded to an enclosed viewing platform where we could observe three nests with adults sitting on incubating eggs or recently-hatched chicks. This telephoto shot shows the immense size of the adult albatross; the ranger is right next to the adult (could be the mother or father; one is always guarding the egg or chick and keeping it warm while the other is out fishing) and is holding this chick that had hatched just the day before our visit. Some amazing facts about these birds:
- It can fly at speeds of around 75 mph
- At 7 months old, the chick weighs 22-25 lbs, heavier than adults, since they have been sitting around being fed by their parents and have not yet flown
- After the chicks fledge, they fly away on their circumpolar feeding circuit for 4-6 years, mostly never touching land; they fly and land on the ocean surface to feed on squid and to sleep
- Mating pairs return to the same spot where they were hatched and where they raised their young, often arriving a year to the day after they arrived to mate the previous season
We also got to watch these Hooker's sea lions (Phocarctos hookeri) sparring in a nearby cove. They are the most endangered sea lions in the world, and can weigh up to 1,000 lbs., although these appeared to be smaller young adults. Wildlife sightings like this are common on the sparsely-populated South Island. I was shooting this photo from a hide (like a duck blind) about 150 feet from these impressive pinnipeds.
The famous Moeraki Boulders, unusually large, spherical rocks called septarian concretions, were nearby, but the tide was rising quickly. When I suggested that MLB go out and stand on one for a photo, the sideways look I received made me suggest dinner and wine instead...
Our last wildlife encounter was with another yellow-eyed penguin, this one between Dunedin and Christchurch at the Katiki Point Hide. We saw four of these cute critters there - three were in a nesting area, but this one was out for a stroll and posed like a Hollywood starlet. Love those pink feet!
While in Dunedin, we stopped at an artist's studio to look at some carved greenstone. Suzanne fell in love with one particular piece, a koru (spiral in Maori), representing new beginnings and growth. Ewan Duff is half Scot and half Maori, and is an extremely talented young man. (Hey, he's 45 - that's young to me.) Greenstone (Pounamu in Maori) is also known as nephrite jade, and is a hard, durable stone revered by the Maori; in fact, it is called a taonga (treasure). The stone was used for gifts, tools and weapons, and is found only on the South Island, which the Maori even called Te Wahi Pounamu, the Place of Greenstone.
We also stopped to see the famous Dunedin Railway Station, designed by George Troup, who earned the moniker "Gingerbread George" for his fancy designs.
Our stop in Dunedin was mostly memorable for an incident at breakfast and its aftermath. We were staying at a B&B overlooking the beautiful harbor, and while eating fresh cherries, we were dropping the big pits on our plates. Then I had a bite of crusty bread, and felt something odd. I dropped what I thought was another cherry pit onto my plate... it went "clunk". Suzanne said, "What was that?" OMG... a 25 year old crown had fallen out. I smiled and the look of horror on her face made my heart sink. I was... Snaggletooth! A quick call by the innkeeper to his dentist had us on the road to town; he had a cancellation in one hour, and it was Friday. Our plan that day had been to drive our longest day, from Dunedin to Christchurch, but this had top priority. We arrived at the office, the receptionist asked what the problem was, I smiled, and she said, "Oh, crikey! Let's get you in the chair." Dr. Adank came in, got to work, and in 30 minutes we were walking out the door, Snaggletooth banished, hopefully for another 25 years. (And for only $75.) I had mentioned to Dr. Adank about dentists in the US taking Fridays off to play golf, and he said, "What? I only get Wednesday afternoons to play golf!"
On the way to the car, this statue of poet Robert Burns reminded me of southern New Zealand's ties to Scotland. One of Dunedin's founders was Thomas Burns, one of the poet's nephews. (But that seagull on his head.... doesn't that bird have any respect?)
I offered to buy haggis (the delectable looking items shown here on the left), neaps and tatties for a memorial lunch in honor of Burns, knowing how much My Lovely Bride likes that famous dish of sheep's heart, lungs, liver and stomach, mixed with suet and oatmeal, but she shivered and said, "Sorry, Bud, we have a long drive ahead of us..."
March also provided us with an unexpected crisis for our 11 year old long-haired Dachshund Rudy. An abnormal blood test following a 15% body weight loss and a prolonged upset tummy had us driving up to the E.R. of the University of Florida Small Animal Hospital. Two overnight stays and many tests later, Rudy was diagnosed with a probable severe food allergy, and is now on a hypoallergenic diet. No more regular treats, chicken or cheese, but after 2 weeks on his new diet, he is gaining weight and acting like his old self. 
Suzanne has been busy preparing several new workshops and presenting one to an Energy Meditation Group here in The Villages. She is also working on a DVD of her Your Emerging Soul workshop that will be available within the next month. My "paperwork drills", as we called them in the Navy, were mostly new mortgage and IRS tax form-related. (I am still praying for a flat tax; hope springs eternal with every election cycle). 
The last 14 days have been a whirlwind. We packed up our household goods, put them in storage for a week, cleaned the house, made some minor repairs, closed on our old house, lived in the coach for 8 nights at Grand Oaks (a local horse farm and carriage museum), moved into our new house, and started our road trip... there was even time to get a few hours sleep in that schedule, but anyone who knows My Lovely Bride knows that when she has a major task at hand (I think moving into a new house qualifies under that term), she can be focused like a laser beam. I remember the first night in the new house, when we got to bed around midnight, I woke up at 4:00 AM to find her up emptying boxes and filling closets. But I must now mention that my sanity in particular was saved during this move by our good friends Elizabeth, Bob and Jan. Elizabeth spent two days unpacking most of the kitchen boxes and refilling our cabinets, while Bob saved my aching back when he provided his wonderful F-350 truck for hauling mirrors and garage cabinets from Lowes, and helping me put one of the 189-lb. beasts together. 
