New Zealand 2

Dunedin Bridge in falling down, falling down, falling down.

Well, ever since I have started to write this blog I told myself three key things (i) keep it interesting (ii) don't just tell people what I have been doing and (iii) don't, well ermm...list things. Now it seems I have already gone against one of my cardinal sins already so I might as well break another. And the story starts not a long, long time ago, not ever a week but just the other day...(picture dreamy music coming in and the screen to go all blurry as you're transformed back in time and 12,000 miles south east of where you are sitting right now...

Arriving in Dunedin we knew that we weren't going to experience the culture of the sort Cpt. Cook did when he set upon the sunny banks of Botany Bay (although if we were talking about the one just off the M61 near Preston maybe it was going to be quite similar) but walking around the mighty city, the largest one in New Zealand, and fourth largest city in the world (look it up!) we did think that something was missing.

Not qutie sure what we spotted a karting track in the far distance, so Pete and I dragged Claire away with us to what turned out to be an abandoned warehouse with a grotequsely (and decpetively) large sign on the side of it saying "Indoor Karting Here!" Any who, as you can all imagine we now found ourselves, not only in the most British city outside of Britain (and in many cases more British, think Oldham, Bradford, Luton...) but also in the midst of an industrial estate.

After a moment of panic about how we were wasting our time away in yet another city we managed to meander back to the train station, which was is, may I add, not only the most photographed building in the whole of this bi-islanded country (I'm not even sure if that's even a word?!) but also led our escape route back to civilisation via a 104 year old bridge. Crossing the quite mudane structure we passed an Asian girl who was holding an video camera. Something which I turned to Pete and said, "You don't want to be going over there with that!" Obviously discussing about our previous thirty or so moments being lodged in a world of concrete, metal and industry, hmm reminds be slightly of the Crystal Maze. Either way, my words did turn out to mean slighty more just seconds after we stepped of the last rung on the bridge when we heard an "almighty crash" (you'll understand why in a moment why I have quoted myself).

Turning round we were first had witnesses to something that even the British Rail network would manage to avoid. A freight train had somehow managed to career into the side of the 100 year old Dunedin landmark and a girl, the very same girl who I have so cleverly said to Pete only seconds before not to cross the bridge was on the floor. Now I can only be so smug about this for two main reasons (and yes I am going to list again) 1. I am not, and have never thought myself able to predict anything, apart from the odd football score and 2. The girl was fine apart from a bruise and a ripped pair of jeans which was a relief to us all.

Instingvely I thought it was imperitive that the local rag was informed, so I carted myself and my journalistic nature up the road to the Otago Daily Times which we had passed earlier that afternoon. I kidnly broke the story for them, to which they sent down no less that 2 (two) journalists and a camera man. Maybe this was to be by big break. I could see it...BOY, 22, FROM ENGLAND WINS DUNEDIN JOURNALIST OF THE YEAR or something of the sort. Well nothing quite like that but after chatting to one of the journlists who had rushed down the the scene of the world's biggest 'F**K up' excusing maybe the Diana inquest and the American elections since 2000 I squeezed may way in the column inches and I can now say that the "almighty crash" I mentioned before has been quoted in New Zealands first daily! I thank you.

But we left Dunedin and obviously decided that it offered too much excitement which is why we are now in a quite inoffensive place called Lake Tekapo. Not that I can really complain about it, nice hostel, lovely scenary, bascially everything you want it you intend on spending your children's inheritance before they leave university but as I don't have any gremlins of my own quite yet and the hostel in question, the very one I am writing this blog in happened to also double up last night as the home of a very, no wait, extremely annoying American man with a guitar who felt it was his job to teach us all the back catalogue of 'Greatest Hits of the 60s and beyond'. It didn't take me too long to get into bed last night. Not that it mattered as he obviously decided that I still wanted to hear his wretchered voice and kindly up the decibals and couple of notches, for which I can only be indebted to him as I think (I hope) he has now left the hostel.

But either way I can't say I have much more to tell you about my adventures. We have been in Queenstown though and I somehow managed to not come up with any new ways of defying gravity, maybe Dunedin was trying to shock me?! Oh yeah and one more thing, if, which I'm sure you all could be one day be in Dunedin, do not...I really cannot stress this enough, do not go to India Village or whatever the restaurant I dined in the other night as they didn't know how to cook the chicken. Don't get my wrong the service was brilliant and upholding to what you would expect in any other Indian restaurant from Rusholme to Bombay but if I had ate any more of my Bhuna I was worried that the next day would've been spent similary to the way I would have if I have eaten an actually curry in India, you catch my drift.

For any of you who live in Macclesfield, please pop down to the Balti Kitched just oposite Whetherspoons and tell them I very much miss their curry's.

And with that I bid you fare well, not sure if I will catcj up with you all again before I leave the land of the Kiwi as this time in seven days and will not longer be ahead of you but behind, crossing the date line on my way to Chile. How I can fly for 12 hours and arrive 5 hours before I actually left does boggle the mind.

Aidos Ameigos, asta la vista baby, quatro cerveza por favor...that's all I'll be needing for the next 3 months!

Tim

New Zealand (so far)

The world through the eyes of a Blightonian

If you to learn just one thing from travelling around the globe it would have to be that, without question that the Brits are 'the' only nation in the world that actually have manners. It's hard not to be bitter about this but it's just, well...true. Take this for an example, Pete and I have just walked 18km up and over a hill to find that we were among the front runners to finish our mamouth journey. Quite a normal feat for young strapping lads like ourselves, ahem...all the same we formed an ordelry queue to get on our bus home. Brilliant.

Well in theory yes but of course we were about to encounter the World market and in essence every self important German, demanding Frenchie and 'I'm number one cause I'm from the greatest land on earth but I didn't even get off the bus in the first place because if I actually left the comfort of sitting down I might be subject to a terroist attack' American. And as if you couldn't guess this already, 5 minutes of pushing shooving and apolgies (from Pete and I only for some strange reason) we eventually got on the bus thus prooving eother that the british theory of waiting in line works or that our European and American neighbours are starting to respect our merry little island, hmmm.

Anyways, it acutally turns out that the Kiwi's are quite found of us Brit's so armed with this wonderful fact we thought that the best way to handle our impolite friends was to hold our stiff upper lip, have a cup of tea and put our best foot forward. And then after we were done with all the english cliches we could possbily think of we decided to jump out of a plane.

Ok, so we were strapped to an insutructor who was also strapped to a chute but the feeling of falling out of a plane is just, well, indescribable but I'm going to try anyway as I'm meant to have a degree in the art of wordsmithery and well, if I don't my blog's going to get rather short this week.

Now, I'm sure that wou've all had a dream when you fast asleep and for some reason you suddenly think you are abaout to fall and you wake yourself up to find half your body hoving on the edge of the bed and the rest of you desperatly clambering to the bedsheets in a bit to save yourself. Well the feeling of falling out of a plane is something like that, one minute you're sitting down and the next you're travelling at +200km/h and your fighting to keep your mouth closed and looking like one of those hounds which insist on sticking their head out of the window on the motorway leaving a trail of salavia on the read window.

On our jump we had a 45 second free fall, which I suppose seems long enough because hey, do you really want to be falling for much longer than that without a parachute. Infact just while we are on that note, the world record for a parachute jump stands at 103,800ft with a 5 minute free fall, I wonder what 103,801ft would feel like...? Back to the point, again the free fall is much like a dream because by the time you realise you are actually falling you manage to stop yourself and you are either back in bed, but in my case floating aimlessly back to earth with a giant piece of silk strapped to my back. I worked out that my daredevil expereince cost me nearly 30 quid a minute, some may say expensive, I would say worth every penny. I hear that they do it for cheaper in Argentina as well!

Without trying to make everyone reading this blog to fell like they want to kill me from jealously I really do have to say that this place is bloody fantastic. The scenary really is just something else, the people our friendlier than Santa Claus' smile (I mean we went to the comedy club in Wellinton the other night, the compiere couldn't even take the piss out of the English, come on the English, how can you not rip us?!), and the food out here, sublime.

I can't really explain why this humble country is so great. Maybe it has something to do with every Kiwi having the pick of around 10 sheep per person but they really do have it right.

We're off to Queenstown tomorrow in our pretty blingin' pimpin hire car. They're complaing out here at the moment having to pay 70p/litre, you see they even have a sense of humour out here! Best go now and try and sleep off my 5th ice cream in 5 days, they really are too hard to resist but I not only tackled the beast of a hill I told you about eariler but I went hiking on a glacier today. Infact it was fox's glacier, as in well...see for yourself. I thought it was kinda cool to be able to eat the famous mints whilst hiking through

death defying crevicies. I do make this trip sound rather dangerous don't I!

Keep it real friends,

And don't forget to keep on the board timwaggtravel!

Me

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Australia Photos

You can make up your own title for this one cause I can't be bothered trying to be clever

If I'm to believe the famous words of a certain Mrs LeElla Wagg there's a number of you who have been wondering where my latest installment of my world wide ventures have been. But fear now, the Wagg is here to take you by the hand a pull you over the Tazman sea to the newest country in the world, weighing in at only 3 millions years old, can you guess where I am yet, who would live in a country like this? David, it's over to you...it's New Zealand.

It's a funny old thing travelling, you can prepare for months, read more books than you care to carry, browse more websites than google could only dream about searching and ask more people than there are in China but you'd still run in to the same problems, it's inevitable. Take this for an example, can I just thank LonelyPlanet.com for this exert, ahem..."Sydney Harbour's sandstone headlands, dramatic cliffs and stunning beaches define the city. But whichever way you look, from the white sails of the harbour to the arc of the Coathanger to the toned flesh on Bondi, Sydney is serious eye-candy."

Now lets look for me, as I am sure it is for most of you eye-candy entails things like Nadine from Girls Aloud (for the older ones of you out there, that Irish one from the X Factor), l'Arc de Triumph on a warm summers afternoon and a trebling winning Manchester United side. In the case of Sydney however, the eye candy was sour and not in that naughty but nice balance haribo always seem to find. You may wonder what I may be complaining about judging by the pictures I have kindly uploaded for you, see exhibit A, the only building in the world built in the 1950s that people actually like, the Sydney Opera house and of course it's more beautiful cousin the Harbour Bridge. Both lit up in the yellow ambiance that I have since begun to forget, the sun? Whoever said it was needed for plants to grow and animals to live was wrong, Sydney does just great without it, trust me! Not to worry though as it's festival time Australia's biggest city.

I must say for those of you who know my music taste, eclectic isn't a word you would describe it as. Well I am a new man, believe me as not only am I about to introduce you to the world of new age beat box, electric guitar mash up jazz but you're going to see it for yourself and please watch it because the boundaries of world are going to be changed. If Einstein was still alive, e would no longer equal mc squared, Isaac Newton's theory of gravity would be somewhat flawed and the man who gave Tom Jones his opportunity in popular music would sacked. Ready? Lets go...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSRugGe73lE

You liked...? Now I knew the Finnish were a crazy bunch but what the hell was/is that. Well after an hour of whatever the hell that is I am converted. I have seen the light and I'm ready to jump on that Shit Catapult and join the new age ravers, grow my hair long(er) and light up a doobie, the revolution is here.

Unfortunately it was time to leave Venice of the south and leave for NZ. At this point imagine you were watching last night’s coronation street, the adverts have just come on...fast forward >>> keep going >>> more >>> and I thank you. You've successfully skipped Auckland not because it's a particularly bad place, or even that it didn’t have much to offer, excuse me while I ignore the listing technique of blogging I so strongly disagree with (Ice Bar, lovely harbours, a truly fantastic museum and the tallest tower in the Southern hemisphere) but all of the above was tainted. This time I won't complain, just thing Hydrogen with a bit of oxygen mixed in there, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

Now on to the truly exciting stuff and where Lonely Planet et al can tell me all they want because at last, I have reached the point of actually being able to do what I want, wreck less bollocks which I only tell my mother about after I have done it.

When I was younger I used to always wonder what it was like to be an animal. No worries in the world, you didn’t have to go to school, your food was always cooked, ready when you wanted it and visits to Natural Trust Staley homes could easily be avoided. Well, New Zealand offers the chance for you to be an animal, if only for just 45 seconds. Picture this. A big hill, a giant ball and water. Now which one of you didn't think of jumping inside the ball, filling it with water and rolling down the hill. I was an honorary hamster and I'll let you into a little secret, it's bloody brilliant if not slightly sickly.

Step Two, in which I think the fine last I mentioned at the start of this mini-essay already knows about, so I can safely tell you, involves white water and a raft. You get the picture. Add in a 7 m waterfall (the biggest grade V raftable one in the Southern Hemisphere) and another smaller one but instead of being in the boat coasting along clambering on for dear life on the side of the boat on your back you'll be nearly there. Well infact you would be there but I promise it's safe (kinda) and fun (immensely). Throw in a touch of luge at 30mph plus with no padding and trip to see the oldest Johnny Cash impersonator and quick altercation with a local Maori boxer who I didn’t care to hang around and talk to after I had repeatedly stuck my fingers up at. Ok, it was by complete mistake and he wasn't a boxer, but he was of Maori decent only laughed when I said sorry. I'm sure a gangster, maybe this new music taste of mine has gone to my head.

But anyway boys and girls it's time to go, not because I have nothing else to say but they have this wonderful thing over here in NZ called export gold. I'll give you one more clue, there's a percentage on the side of the bottle...do you know what it is yet, sorry but I had to get that Rold reference in at some time before my blog let the sunny shores of Australia. I hope it was as good for you as it was more me kids...see the next installment to find out which element/physical law I have been challenging yet, the clues in the apple…

T.P.Wagg

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Gag-a-ju, ju ju push Pineapple shake the tree

Hello and welcome to 2008. I know it's a couple of days late but I've been bust roughing it in the Australian bush. You don't even get phone signal out there, and as for the wireless internet connection I'm not even going to start.

After weeks of staying in nothing but brillaint hostels we decided that it was time for a change and that the four walls and solid roof approach was getting a little boring. A little place called Noosa, just north of Brisbane was to be the place of this adventure.

Not quite knowing what to expect apart from the fact that we knew the "camp" was in the bush we got into the town on the Greyhound about 4 hours before we were to be picked up, enough time for some research! Staright to the information booth, "Do you know what time time the shuttle to Gagaju bushcamp is getting here?" After a quick phone call it was confirmed that we did infact have to wait 4 hours (in the rain I am sure you'll be all very glad to here) and that they were extremly relaxed so this could easily change.

Were we back in Africa again? to our surprise though a wonderful man called Allen picked us up, on time and took us to our destiny which was simply brilliant. After being slight scared about a number of stories from our driver about how people had left within minutes of arriving our 6 bed dorm at Gagaju for just the two of us, plus a handful of spiders and small army of mosquitos was more than suffcient.

But Allen's talents did not sure stop with his bush driving, he used to be a chef, and so cooked us up some traditional bush grub of cow smoothered totilla chips with a spiced juis compote a.k.a nachos. Something told me that bush living wasn't going to quite as bad as you'd think, especially after a number of beers we're sunk whilst lying in the hammock. The free fishing, bush walks and drinking games with four dutch lads was also a step in the right direction and funnily enough was alot more eventuful than our stay in the Gold Coast over new years.

Now when I say Gold Coast think, high rised ridden s**thole impersonating Benidorms poorer brother. Well ok, it might not have been that bad but the cancelled fireworks and downpours didn't do much for our mood. I'm not going to bore you all with the details but we arrived at 5 and was on the beach about half 12 chanting with a crowd of Aussies after welcoming in the new year. I'm sure you can fill in the gaps.

Now as we were in Costa del Australasia we thought it would only be fair to operate in the same manner as we would have done at home, none of that foreign muck for us thanks very much, I'll have a Kebab for dinner, couple of pints, footy on tele and a night at the arcades. Maybe this
place isn't as bad as I first made out, we were still missing a dozen or so Geordie lasses upturned in the street choking on their own vomit after sinking the local irish bars entire stock of bicardi breezers.

I must say I'm confusing myself writing this thing, I can barely even remember what I have been up to. Ahh, Brisbane that was it. what can I say about this place, cheap transport, outdoor pools and a walk around some lagoons which resembled the Florida everglades. Am I boring you? I think I'm boring myself slightly, lets fastforward to today...

We probably hit the jackpot, snorkling in the Great Barrier Reef and yes it is every bit as good as they say it is. The most beautful coloured fish, crystal clear waters and not a cloud in the sky. The sort of picture postcard stuff you'd expect from Australia in the summer, certainly one of my highlights and, although I still haven't had a shower I think I've avoided sunburn which judging by my dairy coloured tone is worth a blog entry alone. I hope I don't come to regret that last sentence, and if I'm not brown by May well I suppose there's always St Tropez lotion.

Off to sink another glass of the best lemonade known to man now I think, yum yum. Hope your Monday mornings was as good as mine.

And for another time, that's all folks...

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