I foolishly declared my hiking boots during customs, because my passenger card said to, and this caused a big ruckus. I had to take off my boots and give them to the lady. She actually took them into a nearby lab to be examined. Boy, did I feel sorry for her. Imagine, if you will, the sheer vileness of the evil wind swirling from boots that have endured a 12-hour flight, countless security lines, and a 4 a.m showing of Raising Helen aboard New Zealand Air.
Eventually, though, she brought them back to me--holding them in the tips of her fingers as though they were a pair of dead rats--and said something very cryptic to me. She said, “Be careful when you walk in the mud.”
So now I’m traveling around this country in fear. I read the history books, I read the guide books--and no one said anything about a carniverous New Zealand mud monster. I have a very stern letter to write to Lonely Planet when I get back.
In other news: I’m pleased to report that my friend Tuan and I are traveling very well together. The only way that we’re bad for each other is how we both love coffee. And we keep encouraging each other to drink more. So, today, we were discussing our plans:
“THAT WAS A VERY NICE TRIP TO THE WAR MUSEUM.”
“YES, AND A FINE VISIT TO UNDERWATER WORLD.”
“PERHAPS NOW WE SHOULD TRY BUNGEE JUMPING.”
“NO, I BELIEVE THAT IS LATER IN THE TRIP. WE DO NOT HAVE THE PROPER EQUIPMENT.”
“IT IS OKAY. WE CAN JUMP INTO THE AIR AND WE WILL NOT BE CONCERNED ABOUT THE LACK OF EQUIPMENT UNTIL WE ARE VERY NEAR TO THE GROUND.”
“I AM PERSUADED BY YOUR WORDS. BUT LET US HAVE ANOTHER COFFEE FIRST.”
“THAT IS AN EXCELLENT SUGGESTION.”
I know this isn’t really what you meant, but maybe the mud in New Zealand is very mineral-rich. I dropped my backpack in the red mud of Arizona once while working with the Hopi and forever afterwards it would set off all kinds of alarms. They probably thought 11th grade me was carrying drugs or something because they kept swiping my poor beaten backpack with all manner of cotton swabs. It’s dead now. RIP. It was a good backpack. Beware the spew of a mineral-rich mud monster.
No, it’s because the soil that sticks to hiking boots can carry microbial spores, and plant seeds. They don’t want you importing those. Oz is the same way. They don’t think you’ll hike in or get mud on anything but hiking boots.
Also, what kind of coffee is Greg drinking that turns him so polite and formal?
Wow, except for the coffee, you and I travel very differently. My vacation conversations go like this:
“THAT WAS A VERY NICE TRIP TO THE BAKERY.”
“YES, AND A FINE VISIT TO THE FRENCH RESTAURANT.”
“PERHAPS NOW WE SHOULD TRY GETTING OFF OUR ASSES.”
“NO, I BELIEV...*ZZzzzzz.....*”
hey, if you’re in Wellington, and would like a free beer/whatever.. give me a call.. 021 23 000 38.. least I can do in return for many good laughs reading your blog.. could prolly dig up a few other people who’d be interested to meet yah too..
That is so great that you and Tuaaaaan are traveling together. Let me guess, he is in charge of the flora and you are in charge of the fauna or is it shauna.
Did you really go to Kelley Tarleton’s Underwater World? I have fond memories of visiting there when I was younger. I hope you make it to One Tree Hill (yeah, like the U2 song) while you’re in Auckland.
I’m not sure how long you have to be in country to get used to all the sheep, but we were there 2 weeks and I never got over it.
Hi Greg: Advertised your blog on my blog last night (http://www.drby.net/blog). Enjoying your “Goose-isms” very much. Thanks for additional reading!!
Hey Si, I actually will be in Wellington tomorrow. I’m on an itinerary that’s not totally mine, so I’m not sure what kind of schedule I’ll be on, but I’ll try to call if I can. If I can’t, thanks very much!
My sister, who spent a semester in NZ, once told me that one of the many interesting points of interest that makes is such a good destination is that there are no native poisonous animals.
This varies greatly with Australia, home of the two-step snake.
Anyway, I would just take the warning to mean that you’ll have a harder time getting back INTO the US than you did getting out.
[Note to self: They’ve got coffee on NZ. It should be fairly civilized, then.]