Good Friends, Good Food, Good Times

I haven’t much to write about since my life for the past eleven days is picking grapes, drinking copious amounts of alcohol, sleeping, and starting it over again. Tired, delirious, happy and exhausted has been the routine since Easter. However, at the risk of sounding overly sentimental and cheesy, I would like to discuss just how amazing my time at the Waiheke Island Hostel has been. I have been thrown into an absolutely brilliant cast of characters representing more than 10 countries, all from incredibly diverse backgrounds. Despite our innumerable differences we have all gotten along swimmingly. We share everything, stories, games, booze, food, rides, and laughs. We all cook for one another. I have learned to make Crepes, fish cakes and mayonnaise from the French. Sushi and dumplings from the Japanese. The list goes on and on. I have discovered that Spam and cream cheese rolls rock, as does sausage and frozen vegetables. Grape pie is delicious and if you are inclined to throw everything you have in the fridge into a giant casserole it can turn out to taste ok. I must also admit that peanut butter complements tuna. Good food, good booze, good friends, good jokes and bad translations have made every night in this place an absolute pleasure. I have sincerely enjoyed the weeks spent at the Waiheke Island Hostel and I (as well as my stomach) have become smitten with all the people that stayed there with me. Tear. I love you guys!

To Be Resurrected One Must First Be Destroyed

Easter is about rebirth, Jesus rising from the dead, forgiveness of sins and all that. But in the lovely country of New Zealand, it’s about absolute and total demolition. Demolished would also be apropos in describing my state that Sunday. On Easter, I too was resurrected. I was brought back from the deep, dark depths of the brain dead, I was reborn after consuming countless beers, whiskey, and boxed wine mixed with Coca Cola with some charming Westies (or Wauckies as I like to call them). Three hours of sleep later, I was dragged back to the land of the living. The only option I had was to drink through the pain, forgo sobriety entirely and keep on as I had been for the previous four days. (That’s right kids, these people have seen me at my absolute best, and still talk to me). A little worse for the wear we headed to the demolition derby. We walked up to a tiny and dusty dirt track surrounded by some netting. I laughed at the prospect of a nylon net stopping a thousand pound car barreling towards me. I plopped down on the grass and immediately grabbed a beer, bring on the destruction, I thought. Waiheke is a small island, with a permanent population of 8,000 and a large majority came out to witness the spectacle. As a warm-up they had a few races with mid-90's beaters, round and round they raced and we all placed bets on who would win. Then midway through my fourth beer they brought out the demo derby; bumper cars for adults, we cheered and hollered at the battered vehicles as they smashed gratuitously into one another. Orange dust coated everything around us as we leaned forward to get a better look. One by one they fell out of the race until it was down to two and a half. Local favorite, “Brucey” had only one functioning wheel at that point and would carefully plan when he would swing around at the two remaining cars passing him by, “Mike”, who had barely a dent on his car raced around the track carefully avoiding the other's thereby negating the entire spirit of the event, he, of course, immediately becoming the villain. “Joe” whose car looked like an advertisement for MADD, methodically planned his numerous attacks on evil “Mike”. At this point we were standing and jumping, screaming and cursing, encouraging “Joe” to annihilate “Mike”, and only on Easter, would the ultimate underdog rise, against all odds and logic, above the forces against him and reclaim the glory that he deserved...

Working Hard, Playing Harder

Apologies for the silence on my end of the world. We picked grapes for 6 days straight and I have been drinking for well over 16 days straight which means that I have had to let some things go by the wayside, namely, this here blog and personal hygiene. But we have had the last few days off due to some stormy weather, so I've got clean clothes and time with the computer!
Tonight is Stonyridge's harvest party. They are going to use some of the old grape vines as wood for the barbeque and we will be able to drink some of the lovely wines from past vintages (which will be a nice change from box wine), all huddled around a massive fire amidst the vineyard, should be a dionysian delight.