Not all too much is happening as of late. Checked out a new house up on Frankton Rd, not far from Alexis Motor Lodge and a short enough walk to town when alls said and done. Cheapest house I've seen in a while and I get a room all to myself with a big old double bed. This place isnt available until September but im pretty sure I'm keen on securing a little bit of privacy, despite my current housemates being choice company. Thats if nothing better comes up between now and then.
After work most of my nights involve chucking on my ipod, my skinny jeans from Quest and buying a box of beers before heading out on a search to buy friends with free Tui. Normally I head to a nearby backbacker where a mate from work is staying. Its nice to just chill with a couple of brews, a couple of bros and chat quietly instead of raging too hard. Work can be a menacing foe when you have too good a night.
One of the lads at Apex needs the Monday off next week, and has swapped me for this Friday. I've been going up all of my weekends (which is Monday Tuesday) but the latest one was particularly busy up the hill, and I'm hoping that Friday will be quiet. I hate when there is a line at the park, it makes me so self conscious when I roll slowly over the boxes and rails and pull 180's and grabs over the kickers. If its quiet enough on Friday I want to blast some heavy beats, get myself pumped and my blood flowing before I try a few more rotations, just to try push it. Going over the kickers at Remarks gets some fairly impressive air. Impressive in my mind anyhow, its nothing like what I want to be able to do; but in my head I'm better at everything than I really am.
So after a quiet night at the Flaming Kiwi with Alan from work and a Irishman I've been hitting up the hill with (not to mention a chat to a lovely and artistic lady) it was time to update the blog before resting up for work. Hopes all is well with everyone else in the world tonight, because my levels of content are epicly proportioned.
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
Monday, 22 August 2011
Settling In
After moving into my cosy sharehouse I scored a job at Apex Car Rentals. Prior the this the call centre got one night out of me and I didnt even bother giving them my bank account details to be paid for the trial. That place was a souless vaccuum hell bent on the consumption of everyone's self esteem and good will. Phone call after phone call of abuse, I was almost too scared to answer my mobile the next day when the Manager of Apex was calling me in for an interview. Luckily I did because it turned out that I was to be offered a job working with some of New Zealands best comedy in a witty Scottsman, a typical Irishman and a dry humoured Canadian. These lads were priceless to work with because their recipe for making a day fly quickly is to smash out as many jokes about as many topics as they could. Working at Apex had more than just perks like occassionally taking a rental car home to drop it off for a customer in town the next morning. It had a good bunch of lads, a variety of different chores during the day and the best view of the Remarks a groomer could ask for.
Then came the arctic front. One and a half metres of fresh powder at the top of the peaks, up to half a metre of the white down in town. I was living in a winter wonderland. Snow fights erupted at work as the frost on the roads made it impossible to pick up dirty cars to clean or to drop clean ones off. My days off clashed beautifully with a trip up to Remarks on Tuesday 16th, which miraculously saw a pocket of sunshine bless the slopes with its presence at about 11.00am. The clouds were all around the carpark and the shoulders of the mountain, resting like a giant white crown. Above the crown the sun shone brilliantly and I laid down some of the best lines of my trip in knee deep powder. Even bailing was like heaven, falling softly into a bed of pillows everytime I cased it. The soft landings inspired me to go hard, and I hit up some kickers and rails in an attempt to add more aspects to my beginner riding skills. Managed to score a few indy and nose grabs that werent just a tap on the board as I went over a bump. Getting decent air was a little worrying at first, especially after my first jump resulted in my smashing my rump so hard I thought I'd soiled myself. But once I started nailing consistent jumps I was pleased as punch and rode away to claim it.
Today is a day I'm wasting on organising a bank account so Apex can pay me, and then I can start saving up for Canada or Japan either this year or next year. Maybe even Tahoe in America. I want to do a season somewhere where I can not work the whole season and just board, but that looks a little unlikely on the New Zealands minimum wage.
Tomorrow the Remarks is my destination. And having scored half price jacket and pants from Amazon in the mall (both 15000 waterproof), I'm gonna be furthering my shreducation in a new outfit. As long as I play some heavy hitting tunes on my Ipod and dont go to the shitty ice ridden Concrete Peak I normally have a good day riding. All I got to do is push myself so that I dont stagnate as a crappy boarder and then I might actually develop some skills. As expensive as it is to live in Queenstown, the lifestyle surely makes it a place to be.
Then came the arctic front. One and a half metres of fresh powder at the top of the peaks, up to half a metre of the white down in town. I was living in a winter wonderland. Snow fights erupted at work as the frost on the roads made it impossible to pick up dirty cars to clean or to drop clean ones off. My days off clashed beautifully with a trip up to Remarks on Tuesday 16th, which miraculously saw a pocket of sunshine bless the slopes with its presence at about 11.00am. The clouds were all around the carpark and the shoulders of the mountain, resting like a giant white crown. Above the crown the sun shone brilliantly and I laid down some of the best lines of my trip in knee deep powder. Even bailing was like heaven, falling softly into a bed of pillows everytime I cased it. The soft landings inspired me to go hard, and I hit up some kickers and rails in an attempt to add more aspects to my beginner riding skills. Managed to score a few indy and nose grabs that werent just a tap on the board as I went over a bump. Getting decent air was a little worrying at first, especially after my first jump resulted in my smashing my rump so hard I thought I'd soiled myself. But once I started nailing consistent jumps I was pleased as punch and rode away to claim it.
Today is a day I'm wasting on organising a bank account so Apex can pay me, and then I can start saving up for Canada or Japan either this year or next year. Maybe even Tahoe in America. I want to do a season somewhere where I can not work the whole season and just board, but that looks a little unlikely on the New Zealands minimum wage.
Tomorrow the Remarks is my destination. And having scored half price jacket and pants from Amazon in the mall (both 15000 waterproof), I'm gonna be furthering my shreducation in a new outfit. As long as I play some heavy hitting tunes on my Ipod and dont go to the shitty ice ridden Concrete Peak I normally have a good day riding. All I got to do is push myself so that I dont stagnate as a crappy boarder and then I might actually develop some skills. As expensive as it is to live in Queenstown, the lifestyle surely makes it a place to be.
Monday, 1 August 2011
Adventure Week Down and My Feet Hit the Ground
After a week and a half of snowboarding, recovery massages and a really expensive salt bath it was time to say goodbye to my good mates and end the holiday. Or so I thought. Saying goodbye at an airport is never easy, but as I stepped out the doors knowing I wasn't going home to Townsville like the rest of them I couldn't supress a feeling of excitement tainted by the smallest amount of angst. All I could keep thinking was, Please God don't let me blow all my money, stuff this up and have to go back home. But if this was to be the case, it was however many less weeks spent in Townsville.
Nomads was the only place with availability for a whole week, and I figured it was a good bases for myself where I would call home and look for work from. My first new friend I made there was an Argentinian named Gaston, who came to NZ to work and for the rugby world cup. We decided to look for a place together to make it cheaper and also gave each other a heads up whenever there was a job going. Brazzers was the venue for a few social beers before heading out to Altitude and the biggest arse kicking in pool I've had in ages. After my humiliation I called it an early night and headed back to Nomads.
Unfortunately for Gaston he lost his job at the hostel and was kicked out. This put an acceleration on his need to find a place, and before long he found a bed at a sharehouse on Fryer st. Being on the inside he was able to give me a heads up for a bed becoming available the week after he got there, so I paid a deposit and had to follow through with my stay at Nomads to wait for the person in my bed to move out. Job hunting was now my main priority, and it was fairly successful until the three rowdiest english ladies I've ever met entered my dorm when I was resting with my Ipod on (Triple J Friday Night Mixup). This put a standby on job hunting, because then ensued a destructive cyclone of nights out in the famous nightlife of Queenstown. Thanks to a top bloke buying me a bottle of scotch as a going away present I had something to share, and I traded a few nips for some bacon with some soup kitchen specialists from Perth. Between the three pommy girls and the lads I had randomly met over $4 per kilo bacon we had a funky mix of people geared up for a drinking session.
Then the card games started. International drinking games I had never heard of before had rules flying at me from drunken mouths in no time, and it was intense. These games were designed for one purpose. Intoxication. Beautiful girls, good drinking buddies, and a Fergburger made that one of the best nights I have ever had. And thanks to a little encouragement from a random stranger when I took my jacket off under the heater in front of Fergburger, I stripped completely naked in the middle of Shotover Street to a crowd of cheering drunks. Being approximately -8 degrees and raining, I was too cold to put my clothes back on, and luckily had Andrea to help me. Fully clothed once more I headed back to Nomads, their soft bed and the hangover that awaited me in the morning.
The next three nights contained similar stories of drinking; great people, insane conversations, wet t-shirt competitions, cheap drinks for taking your shirt off, passwords for free grog, and $1000 bar tabs at the world bar. Drinking from tea pots is lethal when its filled with Long Island Iced Teas. After gaining a reputation for being the guy who always took his clothes off when he got drunk I made a conscious effort to tone it down. In no time my stay at Nomads was up, and I had to move into my shareroom at Fryer St. Saying goodbye to the Perth boys, the Brisbane lads and the Goldcoast cads was hard, as I'll miss their comradeship as brothers in arms fighting under the fog of inebriation. As of today, 1st of August, I havent said goodbye to the gorgeous English ladies, as I have a hope to see them again before they leave on Thursday. I have positive feedback on a job in a call centre, which is dull work for a reasonable rate of pay in the NZ currency, but other than that I'm still applying for jobs like a rabied dog applies its teeth to its favourite toy. By the end of this week, I hope to be employed, and then I'll work myself up a bond payment and get my own place. A place of solitude and seduction. This town has been so unbelievably good to me, and I hope it continues to do so.
Nomads was the only place with availability for a whole week, and I figured it was a good bases for myself where I would call home and look for work from. My first new friend I made there was an Argentinian named Gaston, who came to NZ to work and for the rugby world cup. We decided to look for a place together to make it cheaper and also gave each other a heads up whenever there was a job going. Brazzers was the venue for a few social beers before heading out to Altitude and the biggest arse kicking in pool I've had in ages. After my humiliation I called it an early night and headed back to Nomads.
Unfortunately for Gaston he lost his job at the hostel and was kicked out. This put an acceleration on his need to find a place, and before long he found a bed at a sharehouse on Fryer st. Being on the inside he was able to give me a heads up for a bed becoming available the week after he got there, so I paid a deposit and had to follow through with my stay at Nomads to wait for the person in my bed to move out. Job hunting was now my main priority, and it was fairly successful until the three rowdiest english ladies I've ever met entered my dorm when I was resting with my Ipod on (Triple J Friday Night Mixup). This put a standby on job hunting, because then ensued a destructive cyclone of nights out in the famous nightlife of Queenstown. Thanks to a top bloke buying me a bottle of scotch as a going away present I had something to share, and I traded a few nips for some bacon with some soup kitchen specialists from Perth. Between the three pommy girls and the lads I had randomly met over $4 per kilo bacon we had a funky mix of people geared up for a drinking session.
Then the card games started. International drinking games I had never heard of before had rules flying at me from drunken mouths in no time, and it was intense. These games were designed for one purpose. Intoxication. Beautiful girls, good drinking buddies, and a Fergburger made that one of the best nights I have ever had. And thanks to a little encouragement from a random stranger when I took my jacket off under the heater in front of Fergburger, I stripped completely naked in the middle of Shotover Street to a crowd of cheering drunks. Being approximately -8 degrees and raining, I was too cold to put my clothes back on, and luckily had Andrea to help me. Fully clothed once more I headed back to Nomads, their soft bed and the hangover that awaited me in the morning.
The next three nights contained similar stories of drinking; great people, insane conversations, wet t-shirt competitions, cheap drinks for taking your shirt off, passwords for free grog, and $1000 bar tabs at the world bar. Drinking from tea pots is lethal when its filled with Long Island Iced Teas. After gaining a reputation for being the guy who always took his clothes off when he got drunk I made a conscious effort to tone it down. In no time my stay at Nomads was up, and I had to move into my shareroom at Fryer St. Saying goodbye to the Perth boys, the Brisbane lads and the Goldcoast cads was hard, as I'll miss their comradeship as brothers in arms fighting under the fog of inebriation. As of today, 1st of August, I havent said goodbye to the gorgeous English ladies, as I have a hope to see them again before they leave on Thursday. I have positive feedback on a job in a call centre, which is dull work for a reasonable rate of pay in the NZ currency, but other than that I'm still applying for jobs like a rabied dog applies its teeth to its favourite toy. By the end of this week, I hope to be employed, and then I'll work myself up a bond payment and get my own place. A place of solitude and seduction. This town has been so unbelievably good to me, and I hope it continues to do so.
Skipping Ahead
The flight to Queenstown was made longer by the fact that snow was ravaging the airport in a ferocious attempt to make up for its lack of presence early in the season. After being stopped at customs and asked why on earth I was trying to move to NZ the bus ride from Dunedin where we were forced to land took 4 hours and smelt of grotty old men. At least however our flight made it. Unlike Benny and Rachy who's flight got cancelled out of Brisbane which saw them shacking up in a hotel for the night waiting for the next available airfare.
After resting up in the wonderful Alexis Motor Lodge for a couple of days in between organising lift passess and bus rides to the wonderful peaks around Queenstown the first morning of snowboarding came round. Unfortunately so did the snow. 5 glorious centimetres in the heart of queenstown itself, and up to 70 cm in some spots on the mountains. The buses weren't running, so the mountains were inaccessible. Chains were to be worn at all times but weren't always reliable, my trek down into town saw me witness no less than five crashed cars due to the slippery road conditions. My walk down to town couldn't have been more than 700 metres.
A rest day was taken thanks to the weather, then up the mountain the next day. Just as I remembered. The sweet crunch of snow under my boots made love to my ears, bringing an erotic smile to my wind chilled face. Strapping into my board Natalie was like finding that spot in the girl you likes eye, where you could just stare forever and be happy. My first few turns were sketchy, but the powder made any landings soft if I bailed. I was back on a board, my cheeks were cold, but all that managed to do was freeze the smile I had on in place.
After resting up in the wonderful Alexis Motor Lodge for a couple of days in between organising lift passess and bus rides to the wonderful peaks around Queenstown the first morning of snowboarding came round. Unfortunately so did the snow. 5 glorious centimetres in the heart of queenstown itself, and up to 70 cm in some spots on the mountains. The buses weren't running, so the mountains were inaccessible. Chains were to be worn at all times but weren't always reliable, my trek down into town saw me witness no less than five crashed cars due to the slippery road conditions. My walk down to town couldn't have been more than 700 metres.
A rest day was taken thanks to the weather, then up the mountain the next day. Just as I remembered. The sweet crunch of snow under my boots made love to my ears, bringing an erotic smile to my wind chilled face. Strapping into my board Natalie was like finding that spot in the girl you likes eye, where you could just stare forever and be happy. My first few turns were sketchy, but the powder made any landings soft if I bailed. I was back on a board, my cheeks were cold, but all that managed to do was freeze the smile I had on in place.
Brisneyland to NZ
Shit son. I’m in Brisneyland and I’ve just been dropped off by one best mate to another best mate’s house. Danni Tully greets me with a big hug when she gets home, and I meet her rad new boyfriend Alex. For the second time, I’d previously met him under the name Stixie and had been wondering why Alex looked so much like him in the pictures on FB. (Face Book for all you oldies squinting through binoculars at your PC screen)
I’m excited now because its only a few days out from flying into Queenstown and even better is the fact that Snowbiz in Brisbane is calling to me like Ron Burgendy to his news team.
The old cracked goggles at the bottom of my suitcase get a shiny new friend all housed up in a box the next day. Anon Figment goggles with a sick mirror lense. Im now even more pumped up to go to NZ. Bert the big man I'm travelling with gets the freshest pair of Electric goggles with Redfire lenses I've ever seen, but only his big frame could pull off something so gnarly.
A few days later and its the day before we leave. Rachy and Ben fly into Brisbane to meet us before the flight out. We take Ben to Snowbiz and he checks out bindings and boots for his sexual little board. Fluro orange is the call for the bindings, and they look mint along with his black boots. The last night sleeping is restless, but its over now and seems like nothing compared to the flight to NZ.
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