Andrea Johnson Photography

 

Australia

Subie, Sand, Sun, Surfing, & Sipping
Enjoying Australia’s most popular pastimes: (story by Dale Johnson)

FOR SALE: 1983 Subaru 4 WD Wagon, 4 speed manual, good condition, road worthy certificate, registration ’til Jan 2002, new tyres. $2,050.00 Aus

Our plan was simple enough. Fly into Melbourne, find a place to stay, and search the local newspapers for a cheap dependable used car to provide transport for our three month Aussie encounter.  We found a St. Kilda guesthouse in a trendy neighborhood mixed with cool outside cafes, hip bars, seedy characters, ‘working girls’, Ferraris, Harleys, drag queens and travelers. After cruising through the classified ads, circling a few prospects, and calling for more details, we narrowed down our choices…only two cars that matched what we wanted.

In a borrowed Toyota Corolla, we plotted a course to see our first choice (ad above). The owner, who sounded like a grumpy old man on the phone, turned out to be a friendly guy with the posture of the hunchback of Notre Dame. Pale yellow, sun-bleached inside and out, rust spotted and slightly dented, 232,000 + miles – we couldn’t believe this was our first choice. The Subaru seemed to run ok, but with our ‘vast’ knowledge of automobile mechanics, what do we know? Test-driving revealed it could rattle its way down the road and stop when needed, everything else seemed to work.

As the sweat poured from our bodies in the record 105°F heat, our offer of $2,050 Aussie dollars was conditionally accepted…the old man had already promised somebody else the first shot. Luckily the other couple declined (she wanted a red car), so we counted out our cash, completed the paperwork, and shook hands – the deal was done. Andrea’s perfect name for this car, “Sunshine” stuck as instantly as we did to the vinyl seats. With its red wheels and overall appearance our Subie made a statement – we’re travelers ready to explore Australia!

Cruising the Australian coast without a surfboard on your car is like riding a Harley without black leather – it just didn’t feel right. Adding to the ‘coolness’ factor of Sunshine, we decided to buy our own board. In the parking lot f the surf museum, coincidentally we met Bruce, a 40-ish, long gray haired, tan surfer who owns a local surf shop nearby. Now with our ‘connection’ in the surf community we were on the fast track to acquire everything we needed to transform from mere travelers into “Surfies”.  We chose a board that was 7’6″ long, based on a few factors; it was an easy length to learn on, catch waves, and most importantly it fit inside our Subie when we needed to lock it up. Surfing seems simple enough – just paddle out, catch a wave, stand up, ride the curl, and repeat…yeah, right! If you’re ever curious what it would feel like inside your washing machine on spin cycle, try surfing! Each attempt taught me something important, and when I paid attention I soon stood to surf more and got washed less.

"Sunshine" our purchased Subaru managed surprising 4x4 drives despite it's condition

A clunk, clunk, clunk noise emanating from Sunshine’s front end didn’t sound good. Undoubtedly a trip to a mechanic doesn’t bring about positive feelings. Luckily we were able to find someone to look at it right away. The good news – the noise was just a loose axle nut; the bad news – we needed new brakes and a ball joint. An hour and a couple of hundred Aussie dollars later we were rattling down the Great Ocean Road again in search of the perfect learner’s wave. The twisty road snaked down the coast for a couple hundred miles, offering beautiful views of beach – perfect for our search. Unfortunately strong on-shore winds flattened the waves so surfing wasn’t good. However, our search did produce plenty of “you should have been here yesterday or last week” stories.

Continuing west the beaches disappear far below as the sandstone cliffs rose higher. Erosion has sculpted the coastline into fantastic forms and after dozens of photo stops we became tired, settling for just slowing down for a quick look from the car. Heading inland we now passed through farmland, bush, and forest, and curious attractions – a giant banana and lobster sculpture big as a bus, cheese world, cow world, and sheep world – everything was designed to capture the driver’s attention quickly and most importantly their tourist dollars. However, our next stop was Adelaide.

Adelaide is a city designed with forethought; it’s completely surrounded by a nature park, has streets that are organized into easy to navigate grid patterns, and it’s center is designated as a pedestrian-only town square. By camping just outside Adelaide at a caravan park on the beach we could venture into the city to enjoy great dinners, the movie Castaway, Aboriginal art, and exceptional shopping, which Andrea craved (there were still no good waves for surfing). More temptations are just an hour or so outside Adelaide – here lies the Barossa Valley, one of Australia’s premier wine regions.. Andrea’s passion for wine tasting can only be rivaled by her lust for chocolate! With map in hand, we systematically sampled the fantastic wines and started building our collection to enjoy later at B.Y.O. restaurants, campsites, or on our Whitsunday sailing trip.

Now it was time to head back to the east, traveling inland towards the Murray Valley region for our first taste of small town, semi-outback rural Australia. Leaving the coast meant that surfing was temporarily put on hold, and seeing only waves of sand and dirt made me cranky until I reminded myself “I’m on holiday, snap out of it”!

The Snowy Mountains, made famous by the movie The Man from Snowy River, is Australia’s only Alpine region. We had received a hot tip on a great campsite nestled in the foreground of the mountains. Our guidebook said kangaroos frequented the grassy meadows near our camp…for once the guidebook was right. After almost a month in Australia we had yet to see a kangaroo (road-kill doesn’t count). In the morning Andrea headed to the bathroom and was surprised by large herds of kangaroos grazing in the nearby grassland. Rushing back to camp to grab her cameras, she hoped they hadn’t disappeared. For the next two hours Andrea had a ‘kangaroo experience’. She sat amongst them taking photos, smiling as they hopped around, watching the baby  ‘roos poke their shy heads into their mother’s pouches, and relaxing in the shade.  After breaking camp and loading the car I had to drag Andrea away from her new friends.

At our next stop we arrived in Sydney at a friend’s doorstep & grasped the opportunity to put our nomadic life on hold. Andrea, always happy to meet up with friends, had contacted Stefan Long (another high school classmate) and arranged for us to stay for a ‘few days’.   Stefan had just moved to Sydney with his girlfriend Michelle, and leased a flat in the hip Darlinghurst neighborhood. Since they had also been long time travelers they understood the importance of a place to call home and welcomed us in.  Settling down, we did a little sightseeing, but mostly spend our time relaxing and surfing. Our bad influence on Stefan didn’t help his job search since we convinced him to try surfing on Bondi and Manly beaches.

One of the reasons we timed our visit to Sydney at the end of February was to experience it’s famous Mardi Gras Parade. The city was overflowing with spectators and parade participants; though Sydney’s Mardi Gras is a celebration of the Gay & Lesbian community, the parade was a wild mix of just about everything imaginable.

Australia’s most famous landmark, Sydney’s Opera House is an absolute must see. Some people say it’s modeled after shells while others say its sails. Regardless of the design’s origins the building is spectacular. Last minute standing room tickets for a play in one of the satellite theaters is an inexpensive way to experience the nighttime ambiance.  We saw the final full run rehearsal of a Williamson comedy, “For the Love of Art”.  The play was a hilarious, well-written and acted jab about how low an art dealer would stoop to sell a painting. Two and a half-hours later, with tired feet, we exited the theater still laughing. Afterwards, with the lights reflecting across the harbor we people watched and enjoyed the view before walking home.

Couple enjoys view of Sydney's famous Opera House

Learning to play (or just trying) the didgeridoo is another quintessential Australia experience. Thousands of years ago Aborigines played a hollowed out wooden instrument by blowing through it, which allowed the sounds to reverberate inside and created a unique musical tone. Today this ancient instrument can be bought just about anywhere in Australia, and is one of the most popular tourist purchases (most end up collecting dust in a corner never to be played). Our hunt for an authentic, musical quality, traditionally decorated didgeridoo educated us about the nature and importance of the didgeridoo in the Aboriginal culture.

A true didgeridoo begins as a gum tree branch hollowed out by termites, and is then refined by hand into an instrument. They are used for ceremonies, story telling, song and dance. Aborigines say that extended play moves the inner spirit to another level (something only revealed to those who experience it’s magic). We enjoyed the sound and agreed that I should learn to play the one we eventually would purchase. Choosing a quality didgeridoo isn’t easy since very few actually produce true reverberating sound (which is difficult to determine when you can’t play one!). Usually the salespeople at the shops could play the didgeridoo, which allowed us to hear the instrument’s tone and reverberation. Our search ended in Sydney when we found ‘the one’ at a friendly shop in the Rocks district. Included with our purchase was a free two-hour lesson.

Saturday morning at 10 a.m., after a rainy 45-minute walk we arrived for our lesson. The first thing we had to learn was to not take ourselves too seriously – our instructor told us to just relax, laugh, and enjoy the learning experience. Most people make a sound somewhere between a foghorn and cow wailing on their first attempt. Getting the proper sound came quickly for me and I focused my efforts on producing different sound variations for the remainder of the class. The hardest part of the lesson was circular breathing. Trying to breathe out of my mouth while at the same time inhaling through my nose was no easy task. However if I learned this skill I would be able to play continuously without the breath hesitation or passing out due to lack of oxygen.  Two hours passed quickly, and I spent another couple hours practicing while getting more tips for improvement. The final encouragement from our instructor was to have a few beers and think like a child. He was right the beers did help!   With our didgeridoo sitting at home along with a couple of CD’s for musical reference, I look forward to practicing and the many beers I’ll need before my first concert.

After enjoying ten days at Stefan’s flat, we reluctantly left Sydney and began our drive north up the coast.  Our arrival at Byron Bay coincided with the area’s largest rainfall in 30 years. Eleven inches of rain fell in three hours. Our wipers couldn’t clear the water fast enough, and our subie’s defogger was useless in the extreme hot, humid weather.  At one point we saw cars floating down a side road next to our freeway!  Driving from Surfer’s Paradise to Brisbane normally takes an hour, but during this storm it took us four hours to drive this distance.  The waves at these popular surf destinations were mammoth – not even the professional surfers were crazy enough to attempt surfing.  Luckily for us, nearby was a different but equally adventurous diversion.

Steve Irwin, aka 'Crocodile Hunter'

Steve Irwin, aka the Croc Hunter , is world famous for his television show regularly broadcast on the Discovery channel, “The Crocodile Hunter”. His obsession with saving, capturing, and caring for these wild creatures is only surpassed by his exuberant energy.   We visited the Australian Zoo hopeful for a chance to see Steve in action. Good fortunes shined on us and the Croc Hunter appeared for the 1 p.m. crocodile feeding show. Our opportunity to see him was due to the fact that he was giving a V.I.P. tour to professional surfers in town for the quicksilver surfing competition.

Today’s show featured a fifteen-foot salt-water crocodile that Steve referred to as a “sneaky little devil”. With raw meat dangling from his hand, he readied himself for the ambush style assault commonly used by salties.  Under the murky brown water of it’s pond the crocodile was virtually invisible until it exploded from the water – a truly amazing spectacle. As the show ended and the group moved on, we grabbed the opportunity to blend into the V.I.P tour and tag along for more of the Croc Hunter ‘s wild demonstrations.   The zoo also housed dingos, kangaroos, wallabies, birds of prey, Australia’s most venomous snakes and largest pythons. After our zoo visit with the Croc Hunter I can definitely say that guy is exactly like he appears on T.V. – crazy as ever!

PHOTO:  Fraser island collage
Buried in sand up to the axles and racing to beat the incoming tide, we strained to quickly to pull our Subie free with the help of friendly Aussies. Fraser Island is the world’s largest sand island, and with its abundance of fresh, sand filtered water, the island has developed into a lush forest. Access to Fraser Island is 4WD only and many coastal routes can only be negotiated at low tide. Driving in soft sand takes practice – the car tends to sway from side to side and feels like it will get out of control at any moment. Slowing down usually wasn’t an option.

Fraser Island is criss-crossed with numerous inland tracks. We ventured inland to see McKenzie Lake and camp there for one night. Our getting stuck experience showed us that our main problem wasn’t traction but vehicle clearance. Larger 4WD created ruts in the sand and the best route was to stay in these ruts since the sand was compacted where other cars had driven. Unfortunately the ruts would get deep and our little Subie sometimes got stuck if we stayed in them. Driving creatively, sometimes riding on the high sides of the track, proved to be very successful. When we pulled into our campground we received some curious looks from people in much larger vehicles – I think they were amazed we had made it so far inland. The warm, crystal clear, fresh water of Lake McKenzie was a wonderful place to rinse off the sand and relax.

We awoke early and broke camp in order to arrive on the coast and travel down the island at low tide. Our previous day’s success was short lived. A skinny spot on the track forced us to stay in the rut and we were quickly buried up to the axle again. I grabbed our shovel (Andrea grabbed the camera) and dug us out – within 30 minutes we were on our way again.

We had to time our arrival to the barge pick up point so we could immediately drive onto the boat – if we stopped, the Subie would surely get stuck. As we approached the transfer point luckily the barge was waiting and lowered its ramp for us. Moments later we were sitting comfortably on its deck. Now I could finally relax – and we knew our car had passed the test to withstand the rigors of the outback, our next destination.



New Zealand

New Zealand: the ‘working stiff’ tour

We always hoped to meet up with friends during our travels, so we were happily surprised when Michelle Colling (a childhood friend) made plans to do so in New Zealand. Michelle only had time for a 10 day vacation to explore Kiwi culture, but her boundless energy & her traveling companion (a native New Zealander, Alan Tinsley) made an ambitious plan possible. They scheduled their trip beforehand, emailed us their itinerary, and we adjusted our plans so we would arrive in New Zealand in time to tag along in the back seat of their rental car to see New Zealand at 120 kilometers per hour.

Adjusting to an American ‘working stiff’ tour proved to be a more difficult than anticipated . . . we were always scurrying to keep up. Quickly zig-zagging from Auckland to Queenstown (similar to traveling from San Diego to Vancouver, B.C.), we packed in as many experiences as possible. The sudden transition from long term travelers to vacation mode made us realize how much we’d already changed our priorities. In addition, a tropical bug I caught in Fiji conspired to slow us down. Although we struggled with the schedule, we did enjoy not having to sort out the daily details and the instant upgrade to our travel style. Michelle & Alan were short on time but not cash; dining out, staying in Bed & Breakfasts, and nice lodges became our temporary new standard. The value of our U.S. dollar vs. the NZ dollar made splurging even more tempting (a B&B that was $100 NZ dollars cost us only $44 U.S. dollars).

Typical country road on the south island of New Zealand

The first night the four of us spent together saw lots of fireworks…we coincidentally happened to be in Christchurch on the eve of its 150th anniversary celebration. The cathedral square in the center of town lit up with a multimedia show that included a hodgepodge of live performances including Maori dancers, military helicopters, sheepherders, building rappelers, and a fireworks finale. The next day we drove over a scenic alpine pass stopping for a quick hike to the Franz Josef Glacier. Dale reluctantly traded his flip-flops for boots, which promptly gave him blisters (he hadn’t worn shoes for months).

Our day of driving from the east to the west coast of the south island ended in Hokatika, a tiny coastal town. The B&B hosts recommended dinner at Trappers, the nicest restaurant around, which served a wide variety of wild game food. Maybe we should have been concerned that we were the only diners in the restaurant (we had recently seen lots of road kill…)

Quintessential New Zealand, sheep & Mt Cook

Our next stop was the glacier area of New Zealand’s highest peak, Mt. Cook (12,300 feet). Upon arrival at the luxurious Heritage Lodge, we were surprised to get a free upgrade from a budget to mountain view room so we could be close to our friends. The bigger surprise was that everyone in the observation lounge had a perfect view into our room. Of the many adventurous activities around Mt. Cook, we spent half a day doing something educational: a glacier tour. A small boat brought us across a glacial lake for an up close view of the icebergs and Tasman Glacier. As we climbed on top of an expecially large iceberg our guide explained how it was formed

Aerial view of Franz Joseph Glacier, Mt. Cook

Our final destination while traveling with Michelle & Alan was a town similar to Hood River, Oregon – Queenstown, the adrenalin capital of the world. We only had a few days to sample the plethora of activities, so we vowed to return later when we’d have more time. The double espresso tour ended even quicker than it began, and we were sad to say goodbye to Michelle & Alan.

PHOTO: Xmas photo of us @ winery

Since we’d already blown our New Zealand budget, we decided to continue splurging during the holidays. A summertime Christmas was a unique experience for us. The radio stations still played I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas, but everyone’s mind was set on planning their holiday on New Zealand’s white sandy beaches. We were lucky to get last minute reservations at a great B&B in Wellington, New Zealand’s capital city. Our hosts were a former chef and restaurant owner who cooked a fabulous Christmas Eve dinner, Christmas breakfast and BBQ lunch later that day.

Photo: B&B owners

Stuffed, but staying with the Christmas tradition we met up with our traveling friend Jay and ate Christmas dinner with his ‘adopted’ Kiwi family. This feast ended with ‘Bombed Alaska’, an ice cream filled berry moraine-covered mountain they lit on fire. Although we missed our family and friends during the holidays, the warm Kiwi hospitality made our Christmas away from home special.

With the gluttony of the holiday season behind us, it was time for us to tighten our belts (ouch!) and find creative ways to recover from our budget blowout. Luckily New Zealand offers a plethora of innovative lodging options. One of our more memorable experiences was at Big Bird farm stay near the Waitomo caves. We stayed in a converted bunkhouse which included a kitchen, bathroom with claw foot tub, and enough room for about 15 people to sleep! Amazingly, we had the place to ourselves. Some farm stays require guests to help with the chores, but at ours we just tagged along with the owner, Ross, and ‘helped’ him feed the ostriches. As an added bonus, Ross took us on an informative nighttime bush walk to see glowworms. These fly larvae glow in the dark to attract their prey, creating a beautiful celestial effect against the black canyon walls.

Eroded arch of natural sea cave, Cave Beach, Waverley

Camping at holiday parks are a popular alternative to expensive motels. They usually provide great amenities -kitchens, outdoor BBQ areas, full bathrooms, laundry facilities, but have very small ‘camp sites’ clustered together with little privacy and lots of screaming kids. We soon discovered this is the most common way Kiwis families travel on their summer holidays between Dec 26 to Jan 26 – everyplace was crowded. A few of our camping highlights included being woken up by horses galloping by our tent at the ‘Racetrack Holiday Park’, and sleeping nearby thermal springs (similar to Yellowstone) and an early morning dip at a hot water beach. During low tide at hot water beach everyone searched for the best spot to dig a hole in the sand to create a natural thermal hot tub.

Boiling Thermal Waters of Champagne Pool, Waiotapu, Bay of Plenty, New Zealand

The best alternative budget travel accommodations is staying with ‘family’. Before we left the States, Dale had written a letter to Peter Bootsma who we thought was related on his mom’s Dutch side of the family. We received a prompt email response that Peter was not related but nevertheless invited us to come stay at his Auckland home. We spent two nights at his house and were treated like family with wonderful dinners and friendly conversation. With our budget back under control, we could now experience the excitement of those crazy Kiwi activities.

The Abel Tasman Trail


What began as a beautiful trek transformed into a grueling endeavor. Our plan was to take a two-hour jet boat tour to the end of the Abel Tasman trail and leisurely walk back to our car. The guidebook said this 22-mile trek included only 500 feet elevation change and could ‘reasonably’ be completed in 3-4 days. The description continued stating that the trek was well trodden and included a variety of terrain such as sandy beaches, estuary crossings, and smooth bush trails.
PHOTO: us with packs
We started our trek with smiles on our faces as we hopped from the boat at Mutton Cove, a peaceful beach five miles beyond the regular route. But our moods quickly changed as the boat driver handed us our packs, exclaiming, “Ugh! You’ll have shorter legs before you’re done, mate. This is the heaviest pack I’ve felt all year!”
With that cheerful comment we were left standing at the shoreline. After a few quick pictures we were off to our first campsite. Walking with heavy packs (30lbs and 50lbs) on soft sand quickly turned an easy passage into one hell of a workout; with just 500 yards behind us we were already panting in the heat. As the trek progressed we were rewarded both with stunning views and the unsettling realization that each scenic bay was sandwiched between steep mountain ridges. Six hours later we arrived at our first ‘beach’ campsite. Unfortunately it was located 50 yards into the bush infested with sand flies.
There’s a Maori legend about these pesky little critters: It’s believed that when the natives first arrived in New Zealand, life was too easy. Food and shelter was plentiful and the climate mild, so the Maoris became very lazy. This angered the chief, who wanted his people to be productive, so he asked the gods for an antidote. The gods answered the chief’s request by sending tiny biting sand flies, which quickly attack anything not moving. Today we had to laugh at the irony of our situation: We’d come so far to enjoy nature only to be imprisoned by it!
PHOTO: anchorage beach view
We awoke early (6 am) after a night of little sleep. The resident possums knew that most backpackers inadvertently provide food, thus they scrounged around our tent all night looking for forgotten morsels. The second day’s trek included two large estuaries, which could only be crossed two hours on either side of low tide (7:30 am). A treat after our first early morning crossing was a nice hot breakfast at the only lodge near the trail. By this time our sandals had given us blisters where the sand and water rubbed our feet raw. So we laced up our boots, reduced our weight by giving away non-essential food to the staff, and raced off to the second estuary crossing. After 6 more hours of continuous trudging we arrived at our second campsite to find that all the sites were full. Too exhausted to continue, we pitched our tent half on the trail and half into the downhill bushes. This night we slept soundly regardless of the location.
PHOTO: Cleopatra’s pool & dale
Day three began with a slow start to ease our aching feet. After breakfast we put on our packs and Dale affectionately named his “the beast”. Our highlight of the day was a rest at Cleopatra’s pool, our lunch stop. The distance to cover this day was shorter, and although the elevation change was only 500 feet, the trail seemed to constantly climb and descend. The easy way out of the hike – an expensive water taxi – was beginning to look more appealing. But, since we’d made it this far we decided to finish the hike by foot. Dale was like a pack mule rushing to the barn, suddenly finding energy as we approached our last night’s destination. This campsite was the most beautiful yet – a secluded beach with only three other tents. The tranquility was only broken by a Kiwi family on their water ski boat : We tried to buy a beer off them, but they thought we were joking and just laughed.
As daylight broke on our final morning, it began to lightly rain. We quickly munched our granola bars and slurped our mini fruit box drinks in order to pack the tent before the downpour. Wisely we had brought waterproof pants, jackets, and pack covers, all of which were necessary for our final three hours on the trail. That night we rewarded ourselves to a nice B&B with a hot tub to pamper our aching bodies. The hot tub had broken the day before, but a shower, bed, and rest after four days without was treat enough. It may seem that we didn’t enjoy any part of our Abel Tasman trek. At one of our more frustrating moments Dale commented, “Someday we’ll smile and laugh when we look back on this experience”. We did both as we wrote this story.

Adrenalin Activities
An incredible variety of crazy Kiwi sports and innovative package tours tempts even the most frugal of travelers. We did them all, draining our budget but thoroughly enjoying many experiences we couldn’t have found elsewhere. We’ve ranked our favorite activities below in order of increasing adrenaline rush:
1. Kayaking Milford Sound
An early morning kayak was a beautiful way to experience the Milford fiord. We were fortunate to see dolphins, seals, and rainbows. To give perspective on how large this area is, the boat in the background of the photo below was a huge cruise ship.
On our second day in Fiordland we were treated to a sunny, crisp morning, which is rare since Milford Sound is one of the wettest places on earth. The steep walls carved by glaciers thousands of years ago create their own weather patterns.
Nearby the Milford Sound we also walked to Key Summit Peak, the first hour of the Routeburn trail, to be rewarded with a clear view of a mountaintop tarn (pond) reflecting the Southern Alps. Kiwis are very proud of their hiking trails, and rightly so.

2, 3, 4: The triple combo: Shotover jet boat, white water rafting, & helicopter ride
Unfortunately, high winds cancelled the helicopter portion, so instead we took an adventurous bus ride through Skipper’s Canyon. This old miners road was so treacherous that rental cars were forbidden to travel on it, and a rafting bus went off the edge on the day of our trip. The shotover jet boat was a buzz. It came within inches of the canyon walls while traveling at 60 mph with it’s huge 400hp motor that needed only inches of water to maneuver. The 360-degree spins got everyone wet.
PHOTO: shotover boat

5. Dolphin Encounter
We’ve been lucky enough to be surprised by dolphins several times so far in our travels, but we’d never been able to spend time with them up close in the water. So when we learned that Dolphin Encounters brought small groups to swim with dolphins in their natural environment, we were excited to try this unique experience.
Since dusky dolphins inhabit the waters off the Kaikora coast year round, our guides were able to accurately predict the dolphin’s movements. Our boat approached a pod of about 100-150 dolphins & we witnessed their playful and acrobatic antics. However we found it was easier to see the dolphins above the water than below since the ocean was cold and murky, and with our snorkels and wetsuits we were clumsy in comparison to their quick, fluid movements. Apparently dolphins have bouts of activity depending upon their mood, and while they were curious to observe us they weren’t as playful when we were swimming nearby. Still, we preferred being with the dolphins in the wild with little disturbance to their natural activities vs. seeing trained dolphins in a swimming pool. As our boat returned to the harbor we also saw hector dolphins (the smallest and rarest of all species) and a blue shark swimming at the surface.
Dusky dolphins are often playful

6. Black Water Caving
We looked like rodeo clowns in our white rubber boots, purple shorts, 5 mil wetsuits, and goofy miner’s hats. But these costumes were necessary for our abseiling, spelunking, and tubing exploration. Instead of joining the busloads of tourists, we chose the adventurous way to experience the Waitomo glow worm caves. Our small group consisted of two guides and one other tourist, a middle-aged man named Colin, who also happened to be from Portland, OR.
Part I – Abseiling
We were instructed to dangle on a rope 100 feet above a cavern floor, and slowly lower ourselves through a narrow gap into the large cave. Colin was nervous, so before he had a chance to back out we offered to let him go first. As he stepped off the platform with an iron grip on his rope, we thought he was going to have a heart attack. Once our feet hit the limestone floor, we scrambled over rocks to do the ‘flying squirrel’. We now attached our harnesses to a pulley to hang feet first and zip along a cable deeper into the cave.
Part II – Tubing
After enjoying a peaceful lunch in total darkness to observe the glow worms illuminating the cave, it was time to jump into the frigid water. With our inner tubes around us we leapt from a ledge feet first and landed ten feet below, our splashes echoing off the cave walls. We continued to drift along this slow moving river gazing endless stretches of tiny flow worm lights flickering above.
Part III – Spelunking
We swam, crawled, and climbed our way through the rest of the cave passages. When we approached a waterfall we were surprised to be instructed to climb it by straddling the gushing water between our legs. Once again, Colin was on the verge of a heart attack. Four hours after we began, we emerged from the cave onto a forest trail, startling a couple of tourists who wondered where the rodeo clowns had come from.
PHOTO: collage abseiling, tubing, waterfall

7. Fly By Wire
Another innovative Kiwi invention is Fly By Wire. Our small craft dangled 300 feet above the canyon floor from an overhead wire. We piloted it at speeds of over 100mph, and could steer it in any direction including falling backwards. With the proper turns and speed we could get to vertical position before heading back across the canyon in a pendulum motion.- the rush of speed and views from the highest point were breathtaking.
PHOTO: fly by wire

8. River Surfing
This sport is white water kayaking meets body boarding. Dale had seen river surfing on T.V. during our many hours of watching the travel channel, and placed this activity at the top of his must do list. Although we ran only class III rapids, from our perspective the waves seemed quite large. We were exhausted after a 20 minute run – fortunately we were able to rest before we did it all again. The highlights included playing in whirlpools and squirting underneath the water PHOTO: river surfing collage

9. Tandem Bungee Jump
Here’s a case where a picture speaks 1,000 words. This bridge was 150 feet tall and in 1988 it the site of the first commercial bungee jump in the world. After three months of constant companionship we decided, “Why not jump together?” Strapped in at our ankles we leapt without hesitation.

10. Tandem Skydiving
The grand finale of our adrenalin activities took us to 12,000 feet for fantastic views of the Fox Glacier, combining a 20 minute Southern Alps sightseeing tour with a 45 second free fall tandem skydiving. Jumping with a big “Waahooo!” was the ultimate way to end our Kiwi adventures.
PHOTO: skydiving collage

Kiwi Reflections:
During our six weeks of driving throughout the North & South Islands of New Zealand, we spent our time in the car discussing many strange, funny, or just unique Kiwi tidbits:
1. Strange roads: As if driving on the left-hand side with all the car controls backwards wasn’t challenge enough. We drove 3,500 miles and saw many…
• One-lane bridges. Courtesy granted right of way. We don’t think this would work in America. To make it even more challenging some bridges had railroad tracks down their center & were located on a blind corner.
• Roundabouts. Better than 4 way stops. They’re simple – if a car is approaching your driver’s side door, you stop. Otherwise, go.
• Not a straight road in the entire country. A carsick passenger’s nightmare.
• Funny signs Photo: car with parachute
• Interesting road safety campaign. Many “DEAD” billboards such as “You’ll be DEAD a long time, what’s the hurry?” and “Is it DEAD clear to pass?”.
• Sheep provide entertainment if you’re bored driving – honking at them causes them to stampede.
2. Popular food. Contrary to their reputation, Kiwis enjoy more than just meat pies and lamb chops.
• Kiwis love beetroot. This is on everything unless you request it to be removed. We thought, “Why put something on your plate that turns everything purple?”
• Mmm…Tip Top ice cream. Per capita, Kiwis consume more ice cream than any other country.
• Savories – we still haven’t been able to get a straight answer as to what’s inside these pastries.
• Yummy wines and loads of wineries offering tastings.
• Lack of French influence (the French are very unpopular since they began nuclear testing in the South Pacific and bombed the Kiwi Rainbow Warrior anti-nuclear peace ship). We never found baguettes, crepes, or French wine. French fries are called ‘hot chips’ and French toast is called ‘egg bread’.
3. Sand fly bites itch more and last longer than mosquito bites.
4. Mail is still delivered everywhere by bicycle
5. Kiwis will lend a complete stranger their car.
6. Only 3 T.V. channels. One consists only of American re-runs.
7. Every Kiwi is an ambassador for his or her own country. They’re always excited to help visitors with friendly tips.
8. Fun phrases such as “Good as gold” (often shortened to “Good as”) and “Good on ya”.
9. The safer a community was, the more adrenaline activities provided
10. Possums: Pests turned to profit. Kiwiland is being over run by them, so Kiwis have begun a resourceful solution. Possum fur is now made into sweaters, foot & nipple warmers, and stuffed animals, which are commonly sold at tourist shops.

Fiji

Bula Fiji!

After Sixty hours of strenuous travel that began when we left Huahine in French Polynesia, we finally arrived in Fiji and it’s capital city of Nadi.   Now we had to think clearly and make arrangements for our three-week stay, though the lack of sleep sure made this challenging! We decided to visit two areas of Fiji. The first: Kadavu Island, well known for scuba diving and authentic village life. The second: Yasawa Islands, famous for its sunshine and beautiful beaches.

It’s a shame that people have been frightened away from Fiji because of its recent political coups. The Fijians are some of the most laid back, friendly, and hospitable people we’ve encountered in our travels, and the ‘unrest’ has had no effect for visitors other than to decrease tourism by 60% during the last year. It’s a budget travelers dream, visit now – get off the beaten track and you’ll find deals everywhere and space plentiful in your own private slice of paradise.

We were able to arrange an inexpensive flight to Kadavu just a few hours after we arrived in Fiji.  A scenic one-hour small plane flight that brought us to a small dirt landing strip; luckily, we had called ahead to arrange our transfer to Ono Island since it was a one-hour outboard boat ride to Jona’s Paradise – our home for the next eight days.

Locals commuting back home, Kandavu, Fiji

PHOTO:  jonas paradise crew

At Jona’s we quickly adjusted to the relaxed Fijian style and started getting to know the locals. Maggie, the resort manager, was quite the character. His flamboyant gay demeanor was very disarming; he would constantly have us laughing at his comments of affection towards other male members of the Fijian staff. The interesting thing was that no one took offence and often played up the teasing from Maggie. It was hard to not smile when seeing a Fijian dressed in a colorful flowered sulu & matching shirt wearing lipstick!

Philippe, our scuba dive master, who dove over 3500 times in Fiji and knew the surrounding reefs better than anyone. Our dives included spectacular sunlit canyons, abundant fish, sharks, large sea snakes, and beautiful soft corals. Jona, owner of our resort, is known as the best fisherman in Kadavu & provided fresh fish for our lunches and dinners (we discovered the other resorts in Fiji were not eating fish due to the difficulty of catching them during the rainy season). Fresh fish combined with garden fresh vegetables, fruit, home-baked bread and Fiji Bitter Beer helped us stay fed and happy.

Local fisherman often provided our dinners

After a couple of nights of rain, Lindua (Jona’s wife) insisted that we move into one of the bures (thatched hut). The price wasn’t in our budget but refusal of her offer would have been an insult, so a comfy bed with mosquito netting was a nice change from our steamy tent. Best of all, Lindua didn’t charge us a higher rate.

Most evenings we sat on grass mats with villagers and drank kava – a Fijian institution. Beginning as early as 3pm we heard the familiar thump of kava roots being pounded into powder. Kava looks and tastes like muddy water – even the Fijians sometimes make sour faces while drinking a bowl. So why drink kava? It’s a cheap and plentiful mild sedative that numbs your mouth and insures a good night sleep. More importantly, kava brings you together with the Fijians for formal ceremonies and casual social scenes (like going the neighborhood pub).

PHOTO: Fijians drinking kava

During our eight days in Kadavu, we became familiar figures in many different villages and we were always greeted with a heart-felt “Bula”! Numerous other Fijians made us feel welcome and our temporary adopted family included us in their daily life of church, school concerts, village visits, and the local ‘store’.

We had the fortunate opportunity to join our Fijian hosts at the village school Christmas concert. 88 kids sang, danced, and performed skits, which the locals found very entertaining. It was interesting to spend a day in a Fijian village and we learned just how friendly Fijian kids were by taking their photo. As soon as our camera came out of the case, the kids came out of the woodwork – it only took 30 seconds for a mob scene of about 50 kids to develop.

As we motored away from the island to the airport, the heavy rain and choppy seas couldn’t wash away the smiles from our faces while the entire staff waved goodbye. Many of the prominent island locals thanked us for coming to Fiji and for our genuine interest in their culture. Small things like that is what we remember and miss most of all. Jona’s Paradise was exactly what the name says.

Fijian school children

We chose to spend our last two weeks in Fiji in the beautiful Yasawas, the island group where we spent our honeymoon. We flew on the Turtle Airways seaplane and hoped for a chance to stop off at Turtle Island (we thought it would be great to show our faces and worry the staff that the over-active Americans had returned for a second honeymoon). Unfortunately, we found that it would have been easier to get inside Buckingham Palace than to set foot on this exclusive resort. The ultimate torture for us was that from where we stayed on a neighboring island, we could see and almost swim to Turtle Island.

Our first stop, David’s Place, was a big let down compared to Jona’s Paradise. The resort was in need of a face-lift and beach clean up. However our bure was nice and located on the beach with cool breezes, so we decided to stay for a few days and dive with the local scuba dive operation. We quickly discovered that the dive shop, Westside Divers (Westside@is.com.fi), was top notch; new equipment, beautiful fast boats, great service, and small dive groups (averaging 4 people).

One day after diving, we dropped off a diver at a nearby white sandy beach on a new resort (opened Sept 8, 2000). The guys at the dive shop guys told us that this resort was called Oarsman Bay Lodge and was associated with Turtle Island. With a quick radio call and some fast arrangements, we reserved a spot at Oarsmans Bay Lodge.  We arrived to a tradtional Fijian greeting on the beach (singing the same song we heard arriving at Turtle Island five years ago) & we smiled about our luck of stumbling across this wonderful place. Our bure was perfect – airy, tons of windows with fine mosquito mesh screens, and our own bathroom with hot water showers – oh what luxury!

Yasawas means ‘the sunny islands’, so we were expecting clear blue skies and starlit nights…instead we got “rain, rain, rain!”. No matter, we had a great time with the Fijians. When the sun did appear we made the most of it. I floated on the turquoise waters while Dale tried surfing on the free kayaks provided. The Fijians were very entertained by Dale’s attempts to surf – he received constant ‘encouragement’ from the shore along with laughter when he crashed. Small sailboats were also available, so we tried our hand at navigating the craft in moderate winds. After watching us take a few laps across the lagoon one of the Fijians decided to go for a ride with Dale.  After only a few minutes of sailing across the lagoon the Fijian suddenly jumped out of the boat and swam to shore (maybe Dale’s sailing skills weren’t quite perfected yet).

On full moon large, sharp-clawed crabs ran across the sandy lounge area of the resort to deposit their eggs in the ocean.  Even though they aggressively defend themselves Dale caught several which the Fijians cooked up for a tasty treat. Our last day we bushwhacked our way up the highest peak on our island, which overlooked Oarsman’s Bay Lodge & the surrounding Yasawa Islands.

PHOTO:  top of island

After enjoying three fun, relaxing weeks in Fiji, sadly it was time to leave. Mode, vinaka vaka Levu (goodbye and thank you very much) Fiji, we’ll be back!

French Polynesia

Aerial view of Bora Bora

Ten hours after leaving L.A., our flight arrived in Tahiti – 2am local time. We were greeted with a tiare (a fragrant white flower with a yellow center) to wear behind our ear, and our passports were quickly stamped. Now we had several hours to kill before the inexpensive public transport began, so we hung out in the airport cafe and met other budget travelers.  Jay, a fellow traveler and a surfer from England with long blonde dreadlocks, seemed to know what he was doing, so we asked him for directions to the local bus to Papeete.  He was headed in the opposite direction, but spontaneously decided to change his plans in order to join us.

At 6am, we hopped on ‘le truck’ with Jay & two Swedish girls, the only other people on the bus who spoke English.  After a 15-minute ride, we arrived in Papeete, the capital of French Polynesia and also the main transportation hub to the surrounding islands. Everyone congregated around the central marketplace, which was full of fresh fruit, snacks, and local art – we enjoyed a baguette egg and ham sandwich and planned our first day.

We hadn’t worried about traveling around the Society Islands since most guidebooks said it was “no problem” booking the fast catamaran boats. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the harbor we learned from the fishermen that all the fast boats were ‘kaput’. So we went with the flow and decided to take a ferry to Moorea, the nearest island, and figure everything else out later.

We found the best spot on Moorea to camp, Chez Nelson, and set up our tent on the beach right next to the ocean (we enjoyed using Club Med’s facilities just a 100 yards down the beach).

PHOTO:  tent on morea beach

With the communal kitchen, bathrooms, and friendly atmosphere, we quickly became acquainted with our fellow travelers. Jay, who has been traveling and working around the world for the last six years, has a relaxed demeanor and outlook on traveling that helped us begin our journey in the right frame of mind. He pitched his tent and hammock next to us, and together we enjoyed much of our time just relaxing. We often cooked our meals together and sat around afterwards comparing travel stories. A few times just the two of us ate alone at nearby restaurants: the creperie was a good breakfast stop, and on Halloween night we sat outside at the Hibiscus restaurant enjoying fresh fish and a spectacular lightning show. The storms were dramatic & the rain was surprisingly frequent and torrential; trying to dry out in this warm and humid weather was unfortunately a downside of camping.

Once we figured out the logistics of traveling (lodging, transportation, and food), we had free time to enjoy activities. Since we spent most of our budget on necessities, which oftentimes were outrageously priced ($17 for a bottle of sunscreen), we had to find creative ways to get the most bang for our buck.  Our big splurge was for a humpback whale island tour with Dr. Poole, a renowned marine biologist.  We were fortunate to spend about 30 minutes watching a mother and baby humpback play at the surface.  Other activities on Moorea included morning yoga sessions on the beach.  Dale & I became ‘instructors’ and taught Jay and the two Swedish girls a few basic routines while the rest of the camp watched and laughed. Dale also became known as ‘gadget’ man – our water filter was a big hit since tap water wasn’t safe to drink and bottled water was extremely expensive.  After four relaxing days on Moorea it was time to move on – we decided against taking the slow ferry (18 hours) and flew (45 minutes) to one of the outermost of the Society Islands, Bora Bora.

Chez Rosine Masson Pension

We stayed for 7 nights in Bora Bora at Chez Rosine Masson pension – the best value for our money ($50 a night vs. $500 a night for the over the water bungalows of the luxury resorts just down the beach). Our small room in this house was clean and fairly quiet (except when the roosters crowed, which seems to be the 4:30 am alarm clock for all of French Polynesia).

Sharing accommodations in close quarters allowed us to spend time with several interesting travelers. Stacy and Charles, who we met in the airport in Tahiti, are a younger and more energetic version of us on a much tighter budget (they ate a lot of pasta and baguettes!). We were amused by stories of their daily excursions, such as their determination to bushwhack their own trail through the jungle to the mountaintops, and especially the ‘frisky’ stingray that swam up Charles’ shorts. They had a great method of deciding who gets to do which jobs – rock, paper, scissors – a tip we began using ourselves.

Another interesting couple was Nicolas and Lucy, newlyweds on their honeymoon, maintained a crazy lust for life and numerous contacts around the island.  Nicolas often sang to himself around the house and loved to swim in the ocean during huge rainstorms. He was the test pilot for the household bicycles, which are no longer available for rent because of his big crash (the chain fell off). Most importantly he knew the police and fire chiefs who he used as his own personal taxi service and which also provided us with free rides. His connections even extended to the local fishermen who brought a huge 30 lb yellow fin tuna to our house; for several nights the entire household ate fresh sashimi and tuna steaks. We enjoyed his wonderful crepes, which were creatively made with beer in the batter and survived his potent drinks made mostly with rum soaked in fresh cut fruit.

It’s easiest to appreciate Bora Bora’s unique beauty by viewing the island from a tour on a motorized outrigger canoe.   Reefs circle the entire island and create wide, shallow lagoons, which are as warm and turquoise as the water in a swimming pool. Most of the white sand beaches are on the surrounding small islands inside the lagoon, called ‘motos’.  Here our tour stopped for a scrumptious picnic lunch: It wasn’t your typical hot dogs and hamburger BBQ…our Polynesian guides prepared a beautiful buffet of fresh fish and fruit which we ate from hand-woven baskets made with palm fronds.   Another day, for a different vantage point, we decided to bicycle around Bora Bora.  This was definitely a more strenuous endeavor; it was the hot humid season & we felt like we were going to melt by the end of the 20-mile trip.

Kayakers next to luxury huts, Bora Bora

Kayaks next to luxury huts in Bora Bora

For nighttime entertainment we dressed up in our tropical shirts and pareus (a sarong skirt) and snuck into the big fancy resorts to watch traditional Polynesian shows.  Dale had a knack for getting involved . . . he was selected out of the crowd to learn to dance Polynesian style and a few nights later he was chosen to play a wooden drum, which he did with much better rhythm.

Maupiti – the smallest and most isolated of the Society Islands – is just a two-hour ferry ride from Bora Bora, so we decided to venture away from the tourist traps to experience authentic Tahitian life.   The island’s circumference is only 6 miles, so we rented a 2-person kayak and lazily paddled around the island. Many say Maupiti is like Bora Bora was before the tourist glut – quiet and unspoiled, a true picture of traditional Polynesian culture. We found this rumor true – and best of all everyone we passed during our brief stay returned our gaze with a friendly smile.

For our last 10 days in French Polynesia, we chose to relax in the ‘sacred islands’ of Raiatea, Taha’a, Huahine. To explore the large, sparsely populated island of Raiatea we took a personal tour with an American anthropologist. He explained how he believed that these islands are where believed to be where Polynesian culture originated and where migration began to Hawaii, New Zealand, and other South Pacific islands.  We went to an ancient mare (ceremonial site) and learned the significance of tiki idols (human-like statues believed to have mystical powers) and human sacrifices (which dictate the strongest warrior must be killed to ensure a victorious war). Raiatea has no sandy beaches, so we camped in a resort inside a coconut plantation. It was a peaceful setting until we tried to sleep: When the nightly winds picked up the coconuts began dropping all around our tent – we never did get use to the sudden thud!

Our best ‘bang for the buck’ tour in French Polynesia was a day excursion to and around Taha’a.  We toured a vanilla plantation where we learned that vanilla is produced from an orchid in a very labor-intensive process, and also enjoyed 80 proof vanilla rum samples. Next we stopped at a pearl farm and had a detailed demonstration of how Tahitian black pearls are made. Then we saw a few endangered turtles at a rehabilitation center where they were waiting to regain their health and be released to the open sea. We appreciated another picnic feast at a motu and after eating more than our share of BBQ fresh fish, fruit, and bread we went drift snorkeling. The small ocean inlet had a strong current, which allowed us to float past the coral and fish. When it was time to return to Raiatea we were surprised to be visited by a pod of dolphins that rode the bow wake of our boat – a great finish to our day.

The last island we stayed on was Huahine, an idealic place that epitomizes what everyone imagines in a South Pacific paradise; white sand beaches, lush valleys and mountains, plentiful fruit and flowers, and a charming port town with colonial buildings. We stayed at the remote southern tip of the island called Huahine-iti at an ‘eco-campground’. It was a beautiful setting but very rustic: The Polynesian family owned a botanical garden and provided us with free mangos, papayas, and bananas but no toilets or toilet paper – a cruel joke! .   Our favorite fruit was one we had never tasted – soursop – it had the consistency of cotton candy with a sweet honey-like flavor.  We also found an authentic French Polynesian restaurant that was definitely worth the splurge.

PHOTO:  mare on huahine beach

Our last night we stayed in pension in the town of Fare, treating ourselves to a night away from the tent’. We visited more maraes and a pearl farm by riding bicycles in the sweltering heat – Dale was not happy. Luckily, I finally found the perfect pearl earrings to end my quest and even Dale found a mother of pearl turtle necklace.

In order to cheaply get back to Papette from Huahine, we rode on a cargo ship, local style – sleeping outside on the deck for the 9-hour overnight journey. Budget traveling isn’t for everyone – our journey from Tahiti to Fiji wasn’t easy. After 10 hours in very rough seas, we arrived back in Papeete, Tahiti at 4:30 am. When the ship docked we quickly packed up our sleep mats and ran with our packs to catch ‘le truck’ before it filled up – the only transportation at this time of the morning from the port to the airport.

Now we had 21 hours before our 1:30 am flight departed for Fiji, so we killed time by shopping in the city – hot, humid and filled with exhaust fumes.  Finally, we boarded our plane for Fiji and thought the six-hour flight would be a chance to catch up on sleep. But two hours into our flight we had a stopover in the Cook Islands, and for some reason we had to exit the plan and wait for 90 minutes before we could board again. Finally we flew across the International Date Line (skipping Thanksgiving) and landed in Nadi, Fiji at 7:30 am.

Harley Highways: Riding Highway 1 and 101 from Portland to LA

Harley Highways:

Shadow of my chaps from my viewpoint on the back of a Harley

We knew it would take time to relax from our hectic schedules, so we began our journey on familiar territory.  Our final week at home was spent purchasing our plane tickets (we’d changed our itinerary several times before actually finalizing it), packing our gear, and clearing out our house for our renter.  On Sunday morning, October 9, 2000, with tear-full farewells from family & friends we slowly rode away from home and began our journey. a

Feeling the rumble of our Harley while riding down the Pacific Coast Highway was the perfect way to relax and wind down. With no particular deadline or destination each day, we had two weeks to meander through the back roads between Portland and Las Angeles.  The serenity and majestic ambiance of the giant Redwood Forest was our first haven.  In order to dry out from the rain, we found a KOA ‘Kabin’ (a basic one room wooden shelter with a mattress on a wooden bed frame and space heater) nestled among the redwoods near Crescent City; we were pleasantly surprised by it’s seclusion.

Photo Andrea on Harley with KOA cabin in band

While parking our motorcycle and searching for a place to hide our helmets during a walk through the woods, we stumbled upon a huge redwood tree gutted out by a fire.  Although this tree had a gaping hole 40 feet high by 15 feet wide in its center, it has survived for over a thousand years and grown to 250 feet tall.

PHOTO:  Dale walking through redwoods panoramic vertical

Continuing on through the national Park Forest reserves, we detoured 8 miles on a dirt road and were surprised by an elk eating peacefully by the roadside ahead.  We carefully crossed a few shallow streams on our Harley before we reached the lush Fern Valley, a beautiful beachside park in the middle of the Redwood forest with the largest and most prolific ferns we’ve ever encountered.

Photo:  Harley &  view of Elk

Ah, wine country… as we rode through the vineyards of Sonoma and Napa Valleys we could smell the aromas of the freshly crushed wine – another benefit of riding a motorcycle. We stayed in a spa (the ‘luxurious’ Comfort Inn hotel!) in Calistoga where we enjoyed  fine dining (buying a bottle of wine and eating gourmet cheeses) while sitting in the mineral hot tub.  The best part of touring the wineries was the way people reacted to us when we walked in wearing our biker leathers. Everyone was wonderful! I think we stood apart from the typical tourists and thus received special attention. We even got invited into private tasting rooms and were welcomed on  tours at Simi Winery and Mums sparking wine wineries.

PHOTO:  Harley Golden Gate bridge

While in San Francisco we stayed at Julie Fenker’s (a high school friend) downtown apartment, enjoying great dining bargains and gratis drinks at the local bar since they knew the bartender.  We scheduled a day to visit the Airtreks headquarters, the travel company we used to book our discounted multi-stop around the world tickets. It was refreshing to discover that all the employees at Airtreks are seasoned independent travelers themselves, who were happy to wish us “Bon Voyage!”

After San Francisco we experienced the most dramatic stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway – the 150 miles from Monterey to Malibu, known as the Big Sur coastline. Here the mountains drop directly into the sea and the road snakes around the cliffs edges creating an exhilarating motorcycle ride. The fog danced in and out of the valleys ,and the moist air was filled with the rich aromas of cinnamon and spices.  One night we found a spectacular remote campsite perched right on the cliffside and enjoyed hearing only the sounds of the ocean crashing into the shore. Since there were no city lights in view we could clearly see the Milky Way arch like a rainbow from the mountains directly into the ocean. It was worth gingerly walking around the poison oak that surrounded our tent since this natural barrier kept the crowds and families away.

View of Highway 1 Big Sur Coast

PHOTO:  Harley & tent at campsite on Big Sur coast

We also toured the Hearst Castle, just south of the Big Sur region – definitely a worthwhile excursion. On our tour we met a group of  7 Swedish ‘cowboys’ – guys from Sweden who were traveling through the US for a year on two rented Harleys and a convertible Cadillac Eldorado they’d bought & mounted with Texas longhorns mounted on the grill.. They’d been traveling like this from Miami, Florida across the United States, picking up mementos along the way. If they look like this after just three months abroad, it will be interesting what we’ll look like after traveling for the next 14 months…

We arrived in Las Angeles after riding 1700 miles on the Harley – it’s surprising how many more miles rack up taking the back roads and the Pacific Coast Highway instead of interstate highways.

Dale & I on Highway 1

During our last week in America we were busy making final preparations and visiting family and friends. Our home base was Dale’s parent’s house in Montclair, California and we visited:  Desert Hot Springs to see Dale’s brother’s family, Hermosa Beach (stayed with Louis, a fellow Harley rider and past traveler I met on the Rick Steves tour when I did my photography work): Manhattan Beach (stayed with Zach and Jennifer, past managers from Blackbird resort in Belize): and Huntington Beach (stayed with Kitte and Erik Dudley, long time family friends). We can’t remember the last time home cooked meals have tasted so good, and how nice it is staying with family and friends – and we were only on the road for two weeks beforehand!

We tried to reduce our pack sizes from 40 to 25 lbs or so, but without throwing out the tent, sleeping bags, cooking utensils, and medicine we just couldn’t do it! I’m sure after a few months we’ll have to throw out some clothes anyway).

Our final farewell on U.S soil was on the evening of October 29th, 2000.  After an expensive shared shuttle van for the hour trip from Ontario to LAX we boarded Air New Zealand for an overnight flight direct to Papeete, Tahiti.  We were both excited and nervous as our plane took off; together we were embarking on a loosely planned 14-month trip, though we’d never traveled with each other for more than three weeks.  Many people had asked us what we hoped to accomplish by our journey; in truth we weren’t sure.  We didn’t have specific goals other than to experience a different way of life through travel and to hopefully become better people as a result.  The only thing we knew for certain was that we looked forward to the unexpected and creating memories to last a lifetime.

PHOTO:  all our ‘stuff’

We tried to reduce our packs from 40 lbs to 25lbs, but without throwing out the tent, sleeping bags, cooking utensils, and medicine we just couldn’t do it!