New Zealand is 13 hours away by flight (if youre thru the security already and in LA). Its 57 if you actually have to go every step of the way. I listened to No Country for Old Men on book on tape on the flight over. It came in handy for dealing with the scene seen above. An old English bloke looked at me and said, "'v been over this o'shin 28 times now and this is the biggest mess I've ever seen." I replied, "If it ain't, It'll do til the mess gets here." His wife wasn't so sure to make of the good ol' country boy in the customs line. Neither was customs. Word to the wise, keep your passports in good shape.
After clouds and crackouts and being told to go to the "Chickin Disk" (Check-In Desk) I finally made it to the southern most tip of the south island of Kiwiland. JEEZ, talk about beautiful. The little propeller plane floated low over small houses, spread out, tin roofs and sheep and cattle. The airport was smaller than Constar. I asked a ride off the girl, Sarah Love, that I had been chattin with on the plane and she and her fam had no problem dropping me off at Sparky's hostel, which is actually closed due to a fight with city hall over something that I could never really wrap my head around, but I still slept there with the odd cast of characters that operates out of that joint. All I'm saying is, well, Sparky looked at me and said, "You're living in the now, aren't you?" Crackily, I replied, "You are too."
Ah the crack outs. So far NZ is more of a food desert than the east side of the Jar. No joke. Non nutritional seems to be the soup du jour. On my way on a migrant bus today to look at an organic food co-op near here and talk with a guy whose obsessed with permaculture and tree grafting. Perfect.
Oh, and Tim O'Donnell died. He was a 28 year old warrior in the Kiwi army who was training potential police forces (the same folks that the Pakastani PM is saying we haven't won and who Matt was saying we could only rent) in a northern Afghanistan provence. He was a Guard of Honer at Sir Ed's funeral. He was not a dumb jock. Makes me think that he was a target. New Zealand seems to be not so shocked, but I'm cracked, that the first Kiwi to die in the war on Tear Her did in the now. It is a lot to deal with if you think about what it means. I'll leave that up to you.
3 comments:
dude
wv:angspar
there you are you lil devil.
im glad you made it. and crack is for breakfast. chan's been askin about you and we've hit the jackpot from the community garden. im sending you that mojo. and that lil piece of my hearty heart heart.
Billy didn't actually say, Jordy did copy/paste style in transfer just like the one I laid down on my B-log but did not realize it would say, "Billy, said."
The alarms were set for 3:30am. Multiple alarms. It took me a while to figure out how to actually set mine. My mind was slow to react to anything. Thinking was a chore. Upon completion of the first 220 miles I knew it was the hardest thing I had ever done. Thinking about doing it again was weird, but I couldn’t rule it out because I didn’t have the chance to go to sleep wake up and try it. I couldn’t rule it out because it wasn’t there to rule out. What was there now was the need for sleep and relaxation.
WV: Win Victory: was for real, and I quote, verbatim, no shit: probtles dvde-pro bottles?
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