Well, it's the last day of 2013, and, by complete
coincidence, I have reached my 50th blog entry. To be perfectly honest, when I
look back on my naming/numbering scheme for the blog, I'm not sure why I saw
fit to put the "0" in my post numbers. The idea was, of course, that
I would be covered in case I get up to 100 post and beyond, but that wouldn't
have been very realistic; considering my trip is a year long (well, officially
a year and ten days), I'd have to make an entry once every 3 to four days. Ad admirable
goal, and maybe one I originally thought I could do, but a generally
unattainable one. I guess, like everything else, it's a learning experience.
But back to this entry itself. Were my last days of 2013 the most exciting ones
ever? ...Nah, not really, but they were pretty good.
(As a note, I only really started this on the 31st, and I am
really determined to have it be finished before the New Year, so please forgive
me if I keep things short and sweet. Well, okay, it's technically New Year's now in New Zealand, but my
Google/Blogger account still has me set to California time, where it's still
the eve, so that's what I'm marking this post to, despite the fact I'll be
talking about the actual New Year's moment...look, just work with me here.)
We start back on my second day in Omarama, the hypest place
in the Omarama region of New Zealand (I'm actually not sure if that is true).
After my roommate left to continue on his travels, I woke up and had some
breakfast, having the closest to a proper breakfast I've had in a hostel, being
eggs and crumpets. After milling around for a bit longer, I decided to go out
to the sheep shearing show, which was literally the reason I came to Omarama. I
walked down to the place, called the Wrinkly Ram, got my ticket, and waited.
While I was waiting, I briefly spoke to one of the employees, a kind Japanese
girl. I thought it a bit quaint that she'd chose to work at a place like this
when a bus pulled up and, I kid you not, 40 Japanese people all came in, all
for the show. Seriously, I hadn't seen a single Asian person in NZ until I
reached Tekapo; now they're poppin' out of the woodwork. Anyway, it turned out
that the girl was a translator for the show, so everything made a lot more
sense. But what was going to be a small, intimate show for about ten people was
suddenly a lot less so. (Still, I was told I was lucky, because there would be
two groups totaling something like 400 people the following day, so I was still
experiencing a relatively small show.) The show itself was enjoyable: it
covered the various types of wool and sheep, how to be a sheep farmer, the
means of shearing sheep, the means of herding sheep, etc. And, of course, there
was a live shearing, which was neat to watch, though I didn't get a chance to
do some of my own shearing (I was told beforehand that I could ask, but I
didn't find a good opportunity during the show, especially since there were so
many other people in there). Still, it was fun enough, and I got a discount to
their store, which was good, because I found the first item that made me willingly
break my "no paid souvenirs" credo: a pair of wool fingerless gloves.
I mean...fingerless gloves, c'mon. And they were mostly Merino wool (with some
possum fur in there, which is apparently also pretty luxuriant, and it a good
way for locals to keep the invasive possum populations down). It ended up being
maybe $20, so I'll just write it off, but I swear, that's the last
thing...unless I see another pair of fingerless gloves (or maybe some cool
goggles).
Afterward, I decided to go on a hike up the main hill in the
area, starting at a tourist destination called Ladybird Hill. While they
offered fishing, helicopter rides, a giant chessboard, etc., I was mostly just
interested in walking. So, I made my way up, though their tiny vineyard and up
the hill, and...wait, am I at the top already. Yeah, it wasn't really the most
demanding of hikes; it definitely didn't require me bringing my CamelBak. There
was a pretty nice view of the surrounding area, but that was about it. Pretty
dull overall. I looked at the neighboring hills, which were taller and seemed
more interesting, but didn't see any way to actually go up them, so I just
decided to go back down and back to the backpackers. I practiced my Spanish on
the way down (I actually have been pretty good at practicing every day since I
started, so I'm pretty happy about that), and got back to my room, pretty much
having exhausted all of my activity options in the area which didn't involve
flying in a glider, which admittedly would
have been fun, but not $350 worth of fun. I had lunch and, after again
confirming that there was nothing else to do in the area, just messed around
for the rest of the day. I probably could have got some writing done then, but wasn’t
in the mood. Actually, I was able to play some games, which was a pleasant
change of pace (see, I'm not addicted to games, but I do enjoy them, so having a good chance to play some after a long
while of inactivity felt good). I also thought I was going to have a night
where I was all by myself, a concept that filled me with infinite joy, but
then, again, I got a new roommate
coming in past 9pm. Ah, well. Not much else to say about the rest of the night:
I took a shower, did some initial preparations for taking off the next day, and
went to bed.
I hadn't talked to my roommate much the night before (when
he arrived, he basically went into his partition of the space and went to
sleep), but we had breakfast the next morning (not planned, just happenstance
timing), so we had some opportunity to talk there. While I had the same
egg/crumpet combination as the day before, he had a full set of eggs, toast,
meat, and a can (a can) of baked
beans (and he said when he was finished that he wanted more; I don't know how
he wasn't a blimp). He told me he'd been to New Zealand before, so he didn't
need to worry about going places and seeing things. He just was here for six
weeks to relax and not do much of anything. Can't say I can argue with such a
concept (though, let's be clear about this: he gets six weeks off from work!). Oh, did I mention he was German? I
probably didn't have to; you can probably assume anyone I meet in New Zealand
is German unless I specify otherwise.
I got back to my room, packed my bags, and checked out at
about 9am. I still had about five hours before I had to leave to catch my bus,
so I just had the front office hold my big bag, went to the lounge, plugged in
my laptop, and spent the time there. I did some work, looked at some of my
future travels, filtered through some photos, and played some more games (I'm
particularly enchanted right now by a game called Game Dev Tycoon, which - as the name implies - lets you play as a
game developer. I probably get more out of it since I'm in the industry, but
it's still a fun game in its own right, so I enjoy playing. I took a break to
have some lunch (which consisted of another meat pie and some eggs [I didn't
want to bring the eggs along with me], and then continued until about 2:30,
when it was time to go. So, I grabbed my bags and headed to the bus stop. After
some confusion with the driver, who was letting people off so he could refuel,
even though there were still people on the bus(?), I was finally able to board.
There was only one seat available, and even that wasn't
immediately obvious, because some punk kid was seated sideways with his feet on
what was my seat. When I asked to sit there, he rolled his eyes and shifted
around. (Small rant: I don't mind the youth of today as a whole, but can I say
I loathe, absolutely loathe, anyone
who wears a flat-brimmed baseball cap [e.g. New Era-style caps] with a tank
top. Shorts are an optional part of that, as well. I don't know; people who
wear that getup just infuriate me, usually because the attire acts like a
complete d-bag. Am I stereotyping? Hell yes I am, but in this case, I challenge
one of these punks to prove me wrong.) Once I sat down and we started driving,
I began to notice that the bus seemed unusually young and well-acquainted. I
was in the older echelon of passengers, and a bunch of them were speaking with
each other and messing around and being loud and, in some cases, annoying. I
could only figure that this was a high school class that was all traveling
together for some reason. There was even, as there always apparently needs to
be in a high school class, a couple making out in the seat directly in front of
mine, but I was able to ignore them by listening to some music and looking out
the window at the lovely scenery. Finally, the bus got to the town of Wanaka,
which I had only heard of in the last week, but seems to be the Lake Tahoe
equivalent of New Zealand. (If you don't understand the reference, ask a
Californian.) To my great pleasure, this was where most of the high school kids
were getting off, so the bus cleared out about 85%, if not more. This newfound
freedom allowed me to move up to the front of the bus, and I was now able to
take good pictures as we continued to Queenstown. Along the way, I was amazed
at how we had rain and shine in equal measure (as well as the mythical
combination of rain during sunshine).
Finally, we arrived in Queenstown. I got off the bus,
grabbed my bag, and checked my map. The hostel was...a mile away? I considered
whether I wanted to convert my big bag into backpack form, but eventually
decided to grin and bear the weight on my arms. As I was walking through the
town center, I noticed there were a lot of Mexican restaurants, which I decided
to make note of for the future. I also noticed that Queenstown is nothing like what I had imagined.
Absolutely nothing. I clearly didn't do my research in this regard (and
admittedly, I really didn't), but I had known Queenstown to be one of the main
destinations in New Zealand, so I was expecting a bit of a big city atmosphere,
like a mini San Francisco or San Diego. But no, it's more just like a larger
lake town. I don't think I've seen any building over two stories high (well, I
probably saw a three-story building, but I can't think of it). So overall, this
was a bit of a surprise to me. Neither a pleasant nor unpleasant surprise, just
a surprise. Anyway, after a bit of a walk, I arrived at the hostel. The
receptionist brought me to my room, which I'd be sharing with three Brits.
Wait, no, they were Germans. Almost had ya fooled there, didn't I? Two girls
and a guy, all in more-or-less the same group. They seemed nice enough, so I
figured it could be worse. What was
worse, though (aside from the fact that there was no storage space and that all
half of my stuff has to stay on top
of my bed) was the Internet setup, which was something like $5 for 100mb.
However, I was told that if I book a Queenstown activity through reception, I
would get free Internet. Seeing as I was looking at doing a jet boat ride
anyway, I decided to take advantage of the offer. I knew I could have gotten it
cheaper on an online discount site, but I figured it'd all even out in the end.
So, I booked a boat ride for the 31st, and got...200mb free. Damn. That
definitely wasn't worth it. I guess it was pretty naïvely optimistic that I'd
get free unlimited WiFi, so I guess the joke's on me. But hey, at least I got
the boat ride booked, so that's something.
Anyway, I got myself settled in, talked a bit with the
Germans, and before I knew it, it was already dinner time (in fact, it was a
bit of a late dinner time). I still had two meat pies from Omarama, so I
quickly (and poorly) microwaved them and ate them on the balcony overlooking
the lake, which was pretty nice. I then considered my options for going grocery
shopping; there were several different grocery stores in the area, but I was
told by a couple sources that the only one with even halfway decent prices was
about a mile-and-a-half away, if not even a bit more. I could wait until the
next day, but that may have taken a bit of a chunk out of the day, so I decided
to go now, in this evening time. I made my way there, and, as I've noticed
before, when you've become entirely budget-conscious, shopping takes sooooo much longer. Like, back home, I
could be in and out of Trader Joes, with four days' worth of meal supplies, in
eight minutes flat. Granted, I was in a bit of a routine there, but still.
Here, since I have to check out how economic each item is, it takes over an
hour for what amounts to less food than I'd get at home. It was even worse
here, because the price tag didn't provide a price-to-weight note, meaning I
had to do all those calculations myself. I actually debased myself a little bit
more than I have before, because instead of going for turkey or ham sandwich
supplies, I went for PB&J. As much as it pained me, a jar of generic brand
peanut butter and a jar of generic brand jam together cost less than a 200-gram
pack of sliced deli ham. It's not fancy, but it'll make a lot of sandwiches. (I
was a bit angry, though, as I found out when I got home that the bread I
purchased - a cheap-looking generic brand that was shelved as $2.19 - cost me
$4.) After waiting in line after a guy buying 40kg of ground beef (I counted),
I bought my stuff, only to see that it was raining outside. At first, it was
light enough to walk through, but for about 20 minutes, it got hard enough that
I had to seek shelter under the overhang of a library. I was contemplating
calling a taxi when the rain died down a bit, so I continued walking. Stupidly,
at one point I decided to switch which hand held which bag, and in the transfer
process dropped one bag, which contained a kilogram tub of yogurt, which popped
open the lid and let out a good fifth of the stuff, not only wasting food but
messing up the other items in there. When I finally got back to the hostel, I
cleaned up everything and put it away.
I spoke with the German girls a bit more, and then they
asked if I wanted to play Monopoly. I noted that it was pretty late to be doing
so, but agreed if we could get five players (I'd just play the banker again). I
don't know why Monopoly has been one of my go-to ways of getting to know
people, but there ya go. It was the three Germans from my room, an Argentinian
guy named Tomas, and me as banker. It was all going fine until Flo, the German
guy, started losing and getting all mopey. Sometime close to 1am, I suggested
that we call it quits, as we had one player who was clearly winning and we
didn't want to go all night. So, we cleaned up the game, and went to bed.
One thing I noticed when I got in the room was that there
were no windows, just an emergency exit door. What I hadn't considered at the
time was that this could probably mean that we wouldn't have nearly as much
morning light coming in. A side-effect of this was that I ended up sleeping in
until a little past 10am. Yay! Anyway, I got up and had some toast for
breakfast. While I was eating, the two German girls came up and we talked a
bit. The actually started venting about the guy who was with them, because
"he's a nice guy" but he has a lot of quirks that add up, including
being clingy; apparently, he found out what hostel they were staying at in and
invited himself to come to Queenstown with them. Whether they were divulging
this to me because people tend to tell me all their secrets with no
provocation, or because they simply wanted to kvetch, I can't be sure. (Though
I should note, I'm not completely sure, but I think at least one of the girls
likes me in some way, which I can't point to a single clear example of, but
rather a bunch of little things. Then again, she could just be nuts; who's to
say?)
I milled around the hostel for a little bit, then made
myself some sandwiches for the day; this was gonna be a walking day! I left
around noon to go out on the day's activities. I first went into town, and
stopped at the nearby iSite, asking for information about any of the walking
trails around. They didn’t give me terribly in-depth information, but they
provided enough to get me going. I decided my first trip would be up the Queenstown
Hill. As I continued walking in through the city, I noticed there was a
McDonald's. I technically hadn't had lunch yet (and if I didn't eat those
sandwiches now, I could always eat them later), so I thought this may be an
opportunity to continue along My Disgusting Quest™. I had seen a sign earlier
for a....Geordie? Was that it? I'm not totally sure, but it was, if I can
recall correctly a lamb pie. So, I thought I'd try that. Alas, they did not
have that here, but they did have something called the "Kiwiburger",
which I suppose is about at New Zealand-ish as a burger name can get. What
apparently puts the "Kiwi" in there is, in fact, not the meat from
the kiwi bird, but rather the addition of an egg and a slice of beet (or as
they call it, beetroot). Not gonna lie, it was actually pretty decent; it's
been a while since I've had beet, so even the small slice they included was a
pretty nice treat.
Having loaded my body with calories, I went to go burn them
off. I got to the hill, put on some music, and then went up. However, when I
got to a section of the trail which was talking about "going back in
time" and giving a bit of a history lesson on the area, I decided to take
out my ear buds and enjoy the surroundings. I did notice that I was moving a
lot slower without the music, but I guess that's part of the idea. (Also, I find
when I'm walking by myself, I begin talking to myself. Not conversationally,
but rather, I'm thinking up lines and dialogues for stories, and saying them
out loud helps the process.) I took some pictures of the forest that I was
walking through, all the while wondering, is this getting boring and repetitive?
Are all these forest pictures I'm taking in all these places just blending
together? I mean, forest pictures often turn out pretty lousy regardless, so
maybe it's not even worth it. I was able to take some shots of amanita
mushrooms (the red-and-white poisonous ones that are the basis for the Super Mario mushrooms), so that was
cool, in the least. After maybe about two hours, I got to the summit of the
hill, which was windy as hell, but had amazing views of the lake and the nearby
mountains. While I was up there, I heard some people saying, "Is that
where Rohan was?" and similar things. Which got me thinking, are the Lord of the Rings tours necessary? Most
of them, like the one in Twizel, take you to a place that was used for, say, a
big battle scene, but you can't tell unless someone was to tell you. Otherwise,
it just looks like just another hill, or just another field. Honestly, I could
say any place, anywhere in New
Zealand was featured in Lord of the Rings,
and who's gonna prove me wrong? Nobody, that's who. The obvious exception to
this is Hobbiton, which I am visiting, because that's actually set up to still be Hobbiton, as opposed just being
"sweeping vista".
Anyway, I walked back down the hill, again using the
opportunity to practice my Spanish (I don't know why I find going down hills
such a good opportunity for that, but it really is). I then walked back through
town and to this other hill, which
was an activity center for the area. There was a gondola ride heading to the
top, but I intended on walking my way up the nearby Tiki Trail (and I have no
idea why it's called that). It was a fairly steep climb, but not a terribly
long one. Whereas the two German girls noted that they made it up in an
hour-point-five, I got from bottom to top in 45 minutes, with breaks and
pictures and the like. At the top, I had a look around, and it was again a
great view, albeit somewhat less-so than what you got at the top of Queenstown
Hill. I was actually a bit surprised at all the things that were up there; it
was a whole operation. There was a helipad for heli-tours, there was a
chairlift in addition to the gondola ride, there was a luge track (which was a
tempting concept until I realized that it was a family-friendly luge track, and
thus painfully slow), and there was
even - bafflingly - a Jelly Belly store. There was also a restaurant, a little
ice cream stand, and some other things. I noticed that the ice cream was
actually priced fairly competitively (in fact, was cheaper than almost
everything else there), so I decided to get myself a cup of it, and then headed
back down, munching away. After all, you don't gain calories if you eat while
walking, right? Right?!
After finishing the ice cream and placing the cup in my backpack,
I decided to try some downhill running, which is exactly what it sounds like.
For pretty much all the portions of trail where it didn't look like I'd die if I
made one false move, I just started running down and down. In fact, I was going
so hard in some places that my feet at some point became legitimately hot. At
other points, I was just doing a light jog, and I slowed down to an actual walk
at the really treacherous points or
when I was passing by someone. Along the way, my running music of choice was a mash-up
tune called Marvel vs. Slamcom. I got to the bottom in 20-25 minutes, roughly. I then decided
to go to the nearby cemetery that I had noticed on the way up. It was a pretty
old one (1885 was the oldest plot I could find), though it was also very small,
and I covered the whole place in about 20 minutes. Still, if you're going to be
buried somewhere, I could think of few places with nicer views. I then walked
into town until I was able to find a spot that was a WiFi hotspot. I had
brought my laptop with me (and in retrospect, it was a pretty stupid idea to run
down the hill with it, if only for the danger of violently shaking the
components), and I wanted to get some stuff taken care of without using up any
of the free 200mb I was given at the hostel. Once I did everything I needed to
do out there (which didn't take long), I walked back to the hostel. To my
legitimate surprise, it was already past 7pm. I put everything down, changed
clothes so I wasn't stinkin' up the place, and then prepped my dinner, which
was yet more meat pies (hey, I can't argue with price) and a half-plate of
frozen mixed veggies (which was such a nice addition). However, since it takes
a half-hour when you cook the pies properly in the oven, I didn't end up eating
until 8pm. I ate while watching some of the other backpackers watching the
movie Cast Away...on VHS (I didn't
mention this before, but the majority of movies this place has are on VHS,
which I find rather quaint). After I finished eating and washing up, I went
down to my room, where I did a little bit of writing, and then played some more
games for a bit while the German girls talked to each other. (At one point,
they sheepishly asked if I knew German, and when I answered no, they said that
it was for the best, because apparently they were talking about their sex
lives. From this point on, if anyone asks me if I speak a language they were
speaking, I'll initially answer, "Yes, fluently," just to see their
reactions.) Later on, the girls went to bed while I was doing my thing, and
then, just as I was going to bed, they got up to have a midnight snack
of...pasta?! Like, seriously, spaghetti and sauce at 1am? ...Okay, whatever.
In any case, this morning, I woke up, though I didn't have
the chance to sleep in as late as I did before, getting up sometime past 8am
and just checking emails for a while. I ended up getting up and having
breakfast (I had completely forgotten about the crumpets I had, so I ended up
having a couple of those), and while I was eating, an older Argentinian man
(Tomas's father) began speaking with me, asking me about my trip and all that.
When I got to the fact that I was heading to South America (and Argentina in
particular), Tomas and his father had plenty to say. "Visit the
Patagonia." "Visit the northern part of the country, that's the real Argentina." I was very
appreciative of their advice, so much so that I didn't have the heart to tell
them that I was now just planning on going straight from Buenos Aires to
Mendoza to Santiago. But hey, the reciprocity fee I paid to enter the country
is good for ten years, so I'll always be able to come back at a later time and
do all that good stuff. As they went off and went on their jet boat ride, I
spent the time before my own jet boat
ride by writing. A little bit of conversing here and there, but mostly writing,
up until having some PB&J sandwiches for lunch.
After eating, I quickly packed up my bag and headed out the
door. I got down to the wharf and found my way to the K-Jet terminal. After a
little bit of a scare regarding the fact that I hadn't brought the receipt that
I got from the hostel (on account of the fact that they never told me I had
to), they gave me one of those, "Alright, just this time speeches, and then set me up. I gave them my bag to store
away, and then they outfitted me with a splash jacket (which made us all look
like Satanic cultists) and a life vest, took a picture, and then had us go in
the boat. I asked the driver which was the best seat in the boat. He at first
said they're all good, and then narrowed it down to the back corners being
good. It's not like I had much of a choice anyway, because I was the first
person in the boat, which would make you think
I had a choice, but they just pointed for me to sit in the back-right seat.
Once everyone filled in (and it was quite cozy indeed), we began driving along
the lake at something like 85km/h (although that's the maximum speed, so it
might have been less). They did a couple of 360-degree spins, and some sudden
turn-and-stops, which flung a lot of water my way. Specifically my way. Like, I looked around, and I was easily the
wettest person sitting in the boat after, like, 45 seconds. Thank God I had
kept my camera safely tucked in the sleeve of my splash jacket, I tell ya what.
But as for me, I was a little less than 100% for the first few minutes of this
trip. I had gotten so much water on me that it seeped into my goggles, so I
couldn't see anything, and the wind that was blowing upon us was an icy one. So
it was imminently uncomfortable. Once I took off my goggles and flipped my
jacket's hood on (it was a good thing I had brought my jacket with me), it
started to get a bit better. We then continued into the river, which was a bit
more enjoyable than just out on the lake. The driver did a bunch of
"oh-look-we're-gonna-hit-that-thing-oh-wait-no-we-didn't" maneuvers,
and a bunch, a bunch of 360's. I
didn't mind the 360's all that much except for the fact that they circled me
right through the exhaust fumes. And every time I even got a hint of such a fume, I began feeling a
bit seasick. (Maybe that's the main contributor for me, and why I didn't get
seasick on the sailboat out of Cairns?)
As for the rest of the trip, it was pretty okay. We drove
through some nice canyon area, through some shallow waters (as little as 5
inches deep, we were told), and us a couple rivers, for 43km total. As one
point, the driver noted that one hill was used in Lord of the Rings filming, which I felt vindicated my earlier
thoughts regarding that exact topic, because I couldn't either confirm or deny
what he was saying. But on the whole, while it was fun, I didn't really get the
thrill out of it that I might have been hoping for, and so I can't really say
it was worth the $120 it cost (particularly because it didn't last the full 2
hours, but more like 50 minutes). I dunno, maybe I've done so much adrenaline
junkie stuff that it's become really, really
difficult to scratch that itch. One thing I definitely did feel I would like, though, would be to go on that river on a
stick-driven raft, not unlike Huckleberry Finn. I think that may just be
because it'd have more of a sense of ol' fashioned adventure to it, but I may
just be over-romanticizing the notion. Anyway, when we got back, we were able
to go down to an undersea observation room, where we could see some fish
swimming around, though the real stars of the show were ducks shooting up from
the bottom. I also saw a wall with little souvenir books, with my pictures
placed inside, as well as a little keychain with the same picture. How neat, I
thought, that's a great little treat that helps validate the price of the
activity. But as I was beginning to walk up with it, I was stopped by the guy
at the register, who noted that those little items cost $40. "Plus you get
a CD with the pictures!" I blinked a couple times in disbelief, and then
smiled and placed the items back on the shelf. No way was that justifiable.
Back on shore, I walked up into the street mall part of
town, where I saw a Starbucks. I went in, got a small fruit-based Frappuccino,
and planned to make use of their WiFi, as the mobile signal was starting to go
all wonky. However, even though you get free WiFi with a drink purchase, you
actually have to ask them separately for it, at which point they print out a
new ticket. I'm not complaining about this, but I note it as a clear example of
how much of a premium WiFi is here, if Starbucks have to only provide them upon
request to avoid losing out on unclaimed vouchers. What I will complain about, though, is the fact that they didn't accept my
Starbucks card. I'm physically pouting about it right now. I then walked down
the road to the local theater, where I looked to see about getting a ticket to
see The Desolation of Smaug. I was
considering either getting a ticket for today (which would be for 6:30) or one
for tomorrow (at 8:45), but when I saw that Tuesday tickets were about 33% off
(making my 3D movie ticket "only" $13.50), the choice became pretty
clear. Unfortunately, now I needed to have an early dinner. I decided to go
over to a Mexican place called the Coyote Grill, which I had done some research
on, and was reviewed as the best Mexican place in Queenstown. (Yes, this is where some of my research goes.)
Unfortunately, when I got there, I walked inside to a couple confused places,
at which point they told me they were closed until 5pm. That would really only
give me an hour to eat if I wanted to get to the theater with time to spare,
but I figured I should be able to handle it. To pass the time, I went out to
the nearby park, where they would have music and fireworks (and drunkards, most
likely) later in the evening. There was also free WiFi available, so I took out
my laptop (which I wisely brought with me), did some bandwidth-required work,
and then continued my writing.
At 5pm sharp, I
went in the Coyote Grill. They said that the kitchen wouldn't be ready for
another fifteen minutes, but that I should be fine to be finished by 6pm. They
had a set menu for the evening (most likely because few of their cooks want to
work today), and in terms of entrees (or, as they call them here, “mains”) they
just had beef enchiladas, which cost a hefty $31. It pained me to no end, but I
basically told myself that this is my night. This is New Year's Eve, and that I
can go wild, and start a year of doubled-down frugality tomorrow. So, I ordered
that, and when they asked about a drink, I asked if they had horchata.
"Hot chocolate?" "No, horchata." "Sorry, what's
that?" I could only imagine what the waitress was thinking when she saw my
vexed and perplexed face. When I explained the concept to her and the rest of
the staff, they let me know that they didn't have it, which was a bit on the
distressing side. Before too long, I was served my plate, which just had two
enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. I'm not sure what I was
expecting, really. Actually, I do: frickin' complimentary chips and salsa. The
enchiladas themselves were pretty good, but the whole thing was a meal you
should be able to get in California for $12, max. When I finished and got up to pay, I asked them if the price
was higher because it was New Year's Eve. They said it was. The normal price:
$27. That's...cheaper, I suppose, but it still wasn't worth anything near that.
After finishing my meal with a side of financial regret, I
walked back to the movie theater, where I was thankful that they had some nice
lounge chairs, where I could sit while I waited for the movie to begin and
continue my writing while my laptop still had sufficient battery. I then went
into the theater, a small little thing, and took a seat near the back corner.
Since it was such a small thing, this corner wasn't terribly far from center of
screen, so it wasn't too bad. As for the movie itself, I will say I enjoyed it
more than the first Hobbit movie (possibly because it had fewer songs and long
tangents), but I also watched it in, to borrow a term I've heard from
elsewhere, "Funny Vision", which is a mixture of 3D and 48fps. 3D I
can deal with, although I just don't like wearing glasses of any kind. The
48fps, though, was a real bother. (For those who don't know, this is twice the
normal cinematic frame rate of 24 frames-per-second.) It gave everything that
surreal, soap opera-esque look to it. I thought I had gotten a grip on it about
halfway through, but anytime there was an action scene with fast movement, it
just looked wrong all over again. But aside from that and the most forced
ending I've seen in a while, I enjoyed it overall.
When it was done, I got a little ice cream from the closed
concession stand (I had actually gotten a popcorn/soda/ice cream combo, but
asked for the ice cream when the movie was done, because why the hell would you
want that at the beginning with your popcorn and soda) and then went outside.
It was 9:30, so there was still plenty of time. There was also still plenty of
daylight; it didn't even seem as though the sun had set yet. I decided, then,
to use this opportunity to walk a bit along the lake's shore. Along the way, I
actually passed by the two German girls, sitting on a bench with some other
girls. I greeted them and continued on. To my open surprise, they were still
there when I came back about a half-hour later. In any case, I got to the main
park at about 10:20 (I know this because we had 1:40 left before midnight).
There was a local band playing a lot of song covers, as these events almost
always have. They weren't definitely decent, but I found it difficult to really
work myself up to anything other than half-hearted head-nodding and
shoulder-swaying. It was partially the songs they were playing, and partially
because I couldn't really find the space to dance (by which I mean, to dance
like I dance). Still, I stuck around
until about 11pm, just before they were about to change to the next band, and
went to a different area further along the waterfront. Here, there were no
singers, just a DJ. It was definitely a less wholesome crowd: there were few
families, more open drinking, the smell of marijuana, and I assume there was
some ecstasy somewhere in there. But the music was way better, and way more
dance-able. I started off in the middle of the crowd, but found it a bit
too...well, crowded, so I went closer to the fringes, and then did my thing. And,
as per usual, people noticed. I got in four dance-offs, got about a dozen
high-fives, had a group surrounding me taking videos on their phones, and was
even recorded by a local news station. (I am going to have to make sure to see
if I can find a clip of that online).
Once I was getting to a point where I needed to take a
break, the universe mercifully decided to let midnight come. As people were
climbing sign poles, we counted down to midnight, and were treated to a
fireworks display over the water. It was actually a very impressive display,
better than many of the Independence Day shows I've seen back home over the
past few years (although I'll attribute that to New Zealand not being as deep
in the recession as we are and the fact that this may be their only fireworks
holiday). It went on for quite a while, but once it stopped, the mass exodus of
the shore began. If I were smart, I would have waited around for ten minutes to
let the crowds die down, but I'm not smart, so I had to wade through seas of marginally
sober people, heading either home or - as was more often the case - the bars. I
exchanged no small number of high fives, helped a couple girls tripping over
their high heels and drunkenness, and got an "invitation" from either
a seriously wasted girl or the world's least-convincing prostitute. Still, I
made it back to the hostel square and true, took a shower, and then hopped into
bed to enjoy my first couple hours of the New Year.
So...that was 2013. What a year, huh? I can probably say
I've done more exotic things in 2013 than any other year (perhaps every other
year combined), so I can say it was a good one. I doubt 2014 will have the same
magnitude of excitement, mainly because my trip will occupy a minority of that
year, but I'm looking forward to it nonetheless. And what of resolutions? Do I
have any resolutions for 2014?
.................No, not really.
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