Upward mobility

Auckland, a city of roughly two million people, is a bit of a sprawl. It spreads in all directions that the jagged and peninsular geography allows. It makes getting around just by foot or unreliable public transportation pretty difficult and time-consuming, and can be a real barricade for someone who wants to explore the vast beauty that New Zealand has to offer. I've been strolling around Auckland for three weeks, recognizing that I likely am missing out on the great things my two slow and laboring feet weren't able to transport me to. 

The solution to this conundrum is shockingly simple:  I bought a car!

Like a minivan, but shorter. Feels like home.

This is my 1997 Nissan Primera Camino hatchback. With only 158k km, a sea-at-dusk blue you could drown in, and a trunk big enough to fit a single bed, this is a road tripper's dream. It has all the sleek style and on-road reliability you would expect from a late-90s Japanese car, and in the 48 hours since its purchase, my life has changed completely.

The first car selfie. Probably very illegal.

For instance, it allows me to easily drive the 20 minutes over the Auckland Harbour Bridge to the North Shore. This part of Auckland is hip, wealthy, and feels like a beach town you'd want to retire in. And the views:

First attempt at panorama shot from my iPhone. Note that Auckland still has many sailing vessels even in 'winter.'

Another form of 'sailing,' with an island volcano in the background. I reckon this guy has it all figured out - people say 'reckon' instead of 'think' here.

Looking west to the city. This picture was taken on a now defunct military installation. First built to keep out Russians, then Japanese, neither of which ever really showed up.

A car also lets me explore outside of Auckland. For my first trip, I ventured on a sunny Sunday morning about 45 minutes west of the city. The hike is called the Te Henga Walkway, because hiking is really just walking. I did this one on my own, mostly because I wanted to get used to driving on the left (wrong) side of the road by myself, and because I was nursing a red-wine induced hangover.

Winding mountain roads with narrow lanes and some hair-raising moments brought me to the trailhead. What starts as a simple ascent and summit of a ridge instantly turns into stunning and utterly captivating ocean views.  

O'neill Bay. This is winter people!

The ridge runs parallel to and (naturally) above the water for several kms, but I wanted an up close view, so I hiked down to the water.

This is clearly a better panorama shot. 

Oh and there were caves.

Great place to crawl into and die.

And some dense, black sand, which I'm told is impossible to walk barefoot on in the summer. It was quite cool and comfortable in mid-August.

Black sand or the beginnings of an Oreo pie crust?

So thank you car, which I haven't given a name to yet, and thank you Auckland, for being one of the most livable cities in the world year after year (I can't help but point out that the only US city that shows up on any of those lists is Portland, though just barely. Also what makes Canada so damn livable?).

Cheers!

Bonus:  I stole someone's coffee mug (only for a day).

I can haz coffee?

The Real World: Auckland

This is the true story, of 5 strangers, living in a house. Find out what happens, when people stop being polite, and start getting real. The Real World:  Auckland.

Please don't sue me MTV.

Meet the cast:

Sefton (male, 26?) - With the glasses, formal speech, and a swagger to his walk, it's obvious from the start that Sefton (great name, pronounced here like 'Siftin') is the man in charge of the flat. He runs the finances and keeps everyone in line, but is really fun and easy to chat with. He also plays guitar, skis, and is a litigation lawyer. I'm going to go ahead and label him as the wildcard of the group.

Walter (male, 24) - He's tall, goofy, energetic, and extremely outgoing and enthusiastic. He recently decided to get into the real estate game, and took me on an hour long drive where he stopped at random houses to cold-call-ask if they were willing to sell to him. Most interestingly, he's a beloved national kids TV celebrity, and this bio page says everything else there is to say about him.

Louis (all man, old enough to party) - The House's resident bad boy and an all around cheeky fellow, he is often seen wearing a gray beanie, confusingly covering his beautifully manicured golden Marco Reus hair. He works in advertising, and that's all I know about his job. I'm also his semi-permanent replacement on his soccer team while he's out of town or injured or both.

Alex (female, 22) - The only non-man in the flat is our resident mom. She is frequently spotted waddling around in a large zebra-striped robe and slippers. She's friendly, culinary-adept, works as a manager at an extremely expensive clothing store, and took the time to explain to me the many local words and phrases I wasn't up to snuff on. So I made a list**:

Mostly food-based. I think Louis was having a little fun with the ketchup thing. But I'm honestly not sure. Also, I like the idea of zucchini sounding like 'corgi.'

Eric (male, 27) - Guy with the funny accent who doesn't pick up on about 34% of the conversations happening around him. He's the guy everyone likes to laugh at, but thinks they're laughing with him. He's just here for a good time.

So there's the cast. I'm expecting a season of twists and turns, highs and lows, lefts and rights, and some stuff that doesn't evoke opposites. Here is a screenshot from the movie a few of us watched together the first night I lived here (I should mention that it was not my idea, though I had seen it 4 times already):

"Yeah, that's my bicep."

Cheers!

**Other things I've been told about Kiwi English:
- Place names starting with 'wh' are said with an 'f' sound.
Example:  Whangarei (city in the north), pronounced:  Funga-ray
- Place names starting with 'one' are pronounced 'oh-nay'.
Example:  Onehunga, pronounced:  oh-nay-hung-a
- If someone says 'nah yeah' it means 'yes.' Conversely if they say 'yeah nah' it means 'no.'
- People not from Auckland call Aucklanders 'jafas,' which is a deprecatory acronym standing for 'Just Another Fucking Aucklander.'

Down Came the Water...and New Living Situation

Citizens of California and even the Pacific Northwest:

Drought got ya down? Can't blame you. A whole litany of woes comes with a drought:  government-imposed fines for lawn watering or car washing, a reduction in produce requiring much more water than you would have ever guessed (1 gallon of water for a single almond?!), the guilt of necessarily draining the Colorado River and other groundwater wells. It is a tough situation only exacerbated by a vicious cycle of climate change induced drought. And it probably makes you want to have a drink. Well hold off there, because even that glass of California Red your sipping is a contributing factor. Bummer. It seems there is no way to win; not by staying in California at least.

Another great poster, but I would like to draw your attention to Bret's t-shirt.

Solution? Come to New Zealand, where our rainy (winter) season is actually rainy! I've been here for 10 days now, and it has rained at some point during each of those days. Sometimes just a piddle, a smattering of mist from on-high, and at other times a veritable deluge. And it's predictably unpredictable. I've three times been walking down a sunny street, with nary a cloud in sight, when *splash*, the rains come hard and fast.

Still, it makes for extremely lush and verdant flora, which I'll post about some other time. Until then, I'll urge the Californian population to detach (please read this yahoo question and answer, so funny), hook onto a couple hundred thousand tug boats, and drag itself down to the South Pacific, where the grass is green, drinks are wet and guilt free, and there's such a heavy (winter) humidity that drying clothes takes days on a rack.


*************

After my first week on the job, in which I spent 80% of the time getting access to various networks, printers, computers, hospital areas, and even a desk, I moved to an apartment (called a flat here, because fitting in is the most important thing, mate). It's a pretty sweet deal. I have a literal 45 second walk to work (I've timed it!). It's unclear if that will make me more or less productive; I can go home at any time, but also spend less time commuting and can easily pop in on the weekends to check on an experiment.

Like something from New Orleans, this house might be haunted. And, my room has a view of downtown!

Anyway, it's a beautiful old brick house (rare in Auckland) with high ceilings, 4 other very interesting 20-something Kiwis (Real World Auckland!), is close to work, and is also just down the street from a large park (where earlier today I ingratiated myself with a Japanese pickup soccer group), as well as a lovely little shopping area rife with cafes and restaurants. All in all, I've settled in quite quickly.

Cheers!

End of Lasts, Beginning of Firsts

I'm in Auckland! And have been for almost 3 days now. The flight over was luckily uneventful, and I even slept for 2/3 of it. The last few days have consisted of email and in-person conversations with locals to get to know the city, meet potential flatmates, and figure out work stuff. A lot of walking around too; this city is very hilly (gonna build some big thighs, but not that big). Anyway to the point of this post.

Something interesting happens when you leave a place you've called home for somewhere distant (and it's not just a vacation, but a place you will stay for awhile):  everything you do becomes a myriad of goodbyes (as I detailed in my last post) and 'this is the last time I'll do X' moments. In Madison, Michigan, and Portland, this became a running joke that each of my friends/family groups picked up on independently and ran with. Part of me loved the attention, part of me wondered if my friends thought I was going overseas to die of an unknown terminal illness or (more likely) from falling spectacularly from a South Island fjord into my icy and watery early grave.

Some paraphrased highlights from my last few weeks in the USA:
"But we have to have that extra beer, this is Eric's second-to-last Tuesday night in Madison."
"Guys, this is Eric's last time at the Town Bar, we have to get a round of picklebacks."
"I'm going to make (over-the-top) butterscotch pudding, it's Eric's last Friday afternoon in the USA."
And so on.

On the contrary other hand of the flip side of the same token, when you get to a new place, everything is new and exciting and anxiety-inducing. Even the most mundane everyday activities take on a new flavor.

Obviously there are the first impressions of Auckland, which I'll go into detail about some other time:

Toronto or Auckland? In the day.

Obligatory 'Stoic flying water rat at the ferry terminal looking out to the North Shore' shot.

The first sunset. I get the impression that there are a lot of good ones here, what with the unpredictable weather. 

Auckland or Toronto? At night.

And then there's the 'firsts' in food:

Late night kebab, ahhhhhhh!!!!

Meat pie, contents (somewhat) unknown.

Huh? This is actually a chain restaurant here.

And some just really WTF moments, which my friend Dr. Michael 'Dirty' Spoelstra has done a great job chronicling in his first few weeks in Okinawa. Here's one at a busy square I encountered in downtown Auckland:

I overheard this woman saying she was Ukrainian, which is a fact that at first seems only incidental. But the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. She's either going to be from 'Mary Poppins,' 'Home Alone 2:  Lost in New York,' or Eastern European. I don't know why, it just fits together in my brain.

I don't intend to have a conclusion, wrap-up paragraph that ticks off some emotional boxes each time I write a post. But here I feel compelled to mention that moments are easiest to remember when they're shared experiences. Sure I have photo-documentation of things I've encountered the first few days in Auckland, but in 5 years I won't remember if I enjoyed that food, savored those sights, and especially what I was feeling in those moments. I will, however, remember the goodbye toasts from those 'last' drinks and the smiles and laughter that joking about them with people I care about created.

Cheers!