lists are less overwhelming

Let's play Bad News / Good News! (You'll get the bad first because one should always end on a good note.)

Bad News: I've learned to be wary of electric fences the hard way.
Good News: I've only grabbed ONE electric fence in all of my time here.

Bad News: I dropped my fabulous camera lens-out, face-down, in the sand.
Good News: It still takes pictures sometimes.
Bad News: In this particular case, the bad news far outweighs the good.

Bad News: Malcolm and Lindsay's new farm turned out to be a little like prison and we had to bail them out.
Good News: Malcolm and Lindsay are back at Gilly and Greg's with us.

Bad News: I had possibly the MOST excited moment of my life when we drove past a sign that said "Eagle's Ridge," and I misread it as, "Eagle Rides."
Good News: HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE?!

Bad News: Maggie and I almost broke into someone's home that we mistook for the holiday house Gilly and Greg sent us to.
Good News: Gilly and Greg sent us to a holiday house that we DID manage to find...eventually.

Bad News: I'm probably getting fat from homemade bread and sinful but irresistible gluttony each night at dinner.
Good News: Gilly is a chef and we eat fantastic food every day!

Bad News: The water was positively ICE when we stumbled upon a swim with wild dolphins.
Good News: WE SWAM WITH DOLPHINS!

Bad News: Nothing, I got nothing.
Good News: Everything ever.

Ok, now I can explain some of the more interesting items listed above.

1. So when we rode horses on that nice beach, I grabbed hold of a fence on top of a cliff that turned out to be electric, which might have been dumb, but a warning sign of some sort would have been awesome.

2. Maggie and I just returned from a mini vacation from our vacation in which we delivered Malcolm and Lindsay to their next wwoofer hosts and then spent a night at Gilly and Greg's bach (NZ crazy word. Pronounced "batch" and basically means holiday home, but maybe smaller? People rent it out, you know the drill.) They supplied us with the key and insisted that we enjoy ourselves, explore the area, and take our time. Their generosity is absolutely boundless. Anyway, approximately 20 hours after saying our goodbyes to M & L at their new house of tennis courts, a swimming pool, a sauna, etc., our phone rang and it was a whispering Lindsay calling from inside the sauna, begging us to come back for them. Of course we did, though we couldn't really imagine the problem. Turns out, this couple had utterly failed to mention to M & L that they have 3 teenagers or that they were expected sleep in a tent outside for MONTHS or that they have a 3 page set of stringent rules. Some of the more memorable included: Breakfast ends promptly by 8:30 and there is a zero-tolerance policy toward eating between meals (even if you've purchased your own food). Girls must have their hair pulled back at all times. Boys must never have facial hair. Couples may never touch. The list goes on. These people run a portable rock climbing wall business and the guy happily told M & L about his method for keeping Maori kids off the wall. This clever little man (seriously, he was small) has a rule sheet (yes, another rule sheet) printed only in english and he makes each kid that wants a climb read the sheet to him. Well many Maori children aren't so hot at reading english yet and "if the kid can't read, the kid can't climb." Apparently teachers always offer to translate, but nope, the kids have to read it themselves. What a guy.

So we rescued our friends and brought them home to the warm, open arms of Gilly and Greg. It was quite a homecoming.

3. Gilly had drawn Maggie and I a map to assist in our quest for their bach. Well the map had some curves on it and the bach was a neat little square labeled, "19 Cambells Bay Rd." After turning on a street that was, in some way at least pointing to Cambells Bay Rd we found number 19 and happily leapt out of the car. We hugged, did a little dance. All very excited about our little home away from home away from home. I promptly took a picture of the house (this was pre-sand incident). I piled my arms high with sleeping bags, sneakers, and night bags, while Maggie's absolutely ranneth over with sushi and baked beans that we'd picked up from the grocery store on our way. Following Greg's careful instructions to go aroudn the side of the house and unlock the back door first, we ran to the back. It was a sliding door and inside we could see a lovely big bed. We commented on how nice the bed looked, how there was even a computer. We exchanged loud exclamations about how much nicer it was than G&G led us to believe. Except, no lock on the back door. So we moved to the side door. You can imagine my surprise when, as I fumbled with the lock, an elderly man approached the door from the inside. We stopped in our tracks. Unfortunatley, I was the first to speak. "Um...are you staying here?" The man does not honor my question with an answer. Fortunately, he laughed. Asked us what number we were looking for. "19." "Which street?" "Cambell's Bay." "Mmm. Well, this is Clinton St. You need to drive down to the end and take a left." Maggie managed to blurt out, "Oh my gosh, we're so sorry. Oh my gosh we're SO SO sorry." As we turned away in utter humiliation, the man said that we weren't the first to make the mistake. I suppose we should take some solace in that fact, but I couldn't get over the thought that he had watched us pull up to his house, jump around, take a picture, walk around the back, talk about his bedroom, and try to get it. THEN have the audacity to ask if he plans on staying in his own house. OOPS.

4. G&G also recommended that Maggie and I explore a peninsula reserve called Tawharanui (pronounced taf-ran-ooo-eee, to everyone's surprise.) We pulled up at a bay in the reserve and found a beach. As we started to walk down the beach a girl stopped us and told us that we should walk the other way beacuse there were dolphins down there. Clearly we expected to just see some fins in the distance, but we were excited nonetheless and headed in their direction. Well turns out, by "dolphins down there" she meant that the dolphins were RIGHT THERE. The was one man, waist deep in water, just playing around with 3 dolphins. The water was perfectly clear, so you could see them the whole time and they were just right there. So after a few moments of awestruck observation, Maggie and I stripped off our sweaters, scarves and jeans and began the cold climb in. The water was positively ICE, but that was completely beside the point. We only had to walk in waist deep and the 3 dolphins swam up to check us out and proceeded to swim around us for about half an hour. Eventually the one man there left, later other people wandered up and waded in, jeans and all. We met several people in frigid water, in our underwear, playing with dolphins. They seemed so big when they were so close! New Zealand rules.

The end.