Dunedin is getting cold. I know this may be a shock to several of you, and in a recent conversation with Affable Dave who is back States working at camp who outright refuses to believe it, but yes, it does in fact get quite cold down here in the Southern Hemisphere. Dunedin, because of some crazy geographical and atmospherical rubbish suffers from what is generally accepted as the worst weather in New Zealand. Because of its proximity to the coast, Dunedin gets zero snow, but because it is quite hilly and mountainous, the clouds get caught up and dump a lot of their wetstuff on us. The combination makes for a very wet and crappy winter with perfect conditions for the production of copious amounts of ice.
To intensify the unfortunate affects of the weather, it seems as though New Zealand builders are not familiar with the term "insulation." Its not like they know what it is and call it something else, like calling the kitchen counter the "bench" (which is just plain malarkey, one sits on benches), they are completely ignorant of the benefits and virtues of putting stuff between the outside of the house and the drywall on the inside. To say that our flat is a sieve for heat supposes that there is any heat on the inside to begin with, which is plainly not the case.
In an attempt to escape our chilly city, a crew of 14 of us decided to venture off to Queenstown for a weekend of adrenaline-fueled excitement. The crew, which included Kiwi Justin, All American Jacob, Scruffy Ethan, Ginger Justin (our Canadian friend who is our token ginger - a word which we pronounce as though it rhymes with ringer), Mellow Andrew, Goofy Andrew, Eager Rachel, CK Jay and me, arrived in Queenstown on Friday night and moved in to the cushy pad that some organizationally-minded person had rented for us. With the requisite Queenstown-visit Ferg Burger in our bellies, we made for the grocery store to pick up those foods and drinks necessary for the weekend. Some people had elected to go bungy jumping early Saturday morning, but that did nothing to prohibit the rest of us from having a raucous time until we felt so bad for those trying to sleep that some people took the party out to the town, others of us (like myself) decided that finding a slice of floor or couch and remaining inside was the better course of action. After a typically slow start, Scruffy E and Ginger Justin and I decided to go check out the (regionally) infamous Queenstown disc-golf course. Kiwi Justin and All American took Baby Bey to the airport to pick up Justin's friend who had just finished a semester with the Eco-Quest program on the North Island. While the course itself was quite nice and definitely one of the most unique courses I have ever played, what with some of the Tees requiring a climb onto a large boulder and the holes which demanded that players pass between trees, I didn't play very well with the crappy disc I had found in Queenstown and was rather flustered. My frisbee-throwing experience was saved by the discovery of a skateboard-park located next to the 18th hole. After we finished (in my case 12 over par), we decided to check out the "bowl" at the park. For those not familiar with the skateboarding craze of the last 20 years and the concrete-manufactured terrain, a bowl is just about what it sounds. Its is a submerged half-dome which meets the ground at a right angle and curves out... kinda like a round swimming pool without the water. This bowl happened to be amoeba-shaped with a smaller bowl stuck onto the side of a much deeper and larger one. It did not take us long after our arrival at the bowl to determine that even sans skateboard, a bowl was a lot of fun to play around in. Our first discovery was made when I (in my disgust and frustration with my frisbee) threw it against the side of the bowl. Rather than bouncing off to the ground, the disc took a route around the side of the bowl and flew out the other side. EUREKA! A sport was born. By throwing frisbees in different directions, we could get them to travel the circumference of the bowl and almost come back to the thrower inside the bowl. Another game was found when one stands on one side of the lip of the bowl and throws a frisbee straight down. The disc rolls down, then across, and then straight up the other side. Game three involved running as fast as one could, which generated enough outward inertia that one could run up the side of the bowl and feel like they're horizontal to the game. All in all we spent well over two hours revisiting our youth in the bowl. Finally we were driven out by some kids who wanted to mess around with their bmx bikes and scooters. After returning to our swanky bed-place, we took a complete change of activity, popped in a movie, and promptly passed out. Another evening of food, drink, and fun came and went more or less uneventfully. Kiwi Justin's friend Eli had shown up and we hung out with him, and the night was filled with fun, but little excitement.
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| Kiwi Justin and Scruffy Ethan chillin too hard. |
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| the "bros" |
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| the top floor (of the 3) of Condo de Lux |
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| Partay time |
So after two nights of staying up late and getting up early (this means before noonish), none of the crew riding in the Gus Bus was all too enthused about packing up and having to drive home, but what had to be done was done and we finally got all our belongings (minus a shirt that Kiwi J has been unable to find since this weekend) and ourselves loaded into the Baby and started the drive home. I elected to capitalize on my short-lived awake-ness and drive the first leg. Eventually we got home...
And thats the end of the story. No big climax to that one.
One last picture taken as we drove out of the city:
Stay tuned for more short stories.
Also, it was recently brought my attention that I don't have a blog-name for myself, so those of you who bother to read, if you find yourself inspired, please comment below and hit me with a suggestion or two.
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