Making beds in the Rainforest

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Dear all,

I saw a flea in my bed last night. Still, not a bad tradeoff for learning the best bread recipe ever and how to make Ritz worthy beds.

PICTURES
But before I launch into my overdue journal, please take a peek back at my last entry for pictures that I posted for real this time. They're about a week or so old, but hey, I'm in the boonies and technology is hard to access.

RAINFOREST ROUTINE
Yes, the boonies. I'm becoming domesticized. The calm pace of this past week has been a far cry from the frenzy of the start of my journey. My heart almost leaped out of my throat when I noticed the gaping void in my bank account left from recreational indulgences. I realized, ya know what, it's time to work for my keep and force some routine back into my life. The pack-and-repack-and-pack-again, though exciting, gets to be draining because you always lose those little things: toothbrush, a sock, bars of soap.
Home base now is the "Te Nikau Retreat," a charming, rustic Bed and Breakfast tucked away in the rainforest of the West Coast. Lisa, the lady who runs this place, is a hippie-ish Welsch lady who's very sweet but on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She has the most awesome accent, unlike anything I've heard. "Here" sounds like "Yee-aw" and Rs are rolled and everything sounds like an elaborated, exaggerated song.Today she ran off to do grocery shopping, leaving me in charge of the office and picking up backpackers at the bus station in town, 3kms away.
Which means I had quite an adventure, driving on the wrong side of the road! It's good exercise for the brain (a nice way of saying it's a complete mind ***k) being on the left side of the highway, steering from the "passenger's" seat and shifting gears left-handed. I keep turning the windshield wipers on when I wanted to use a turn signal. OH, but the freedom of driving, I miss it so.
Back to my place of employment, the name "retreat" does not kid you. We're 3kms down the road from the famous "Pancake Rocks," which are majestically beautiful limestone formations by the sea. True to their name, they look like stretched out gray pancakes stacked on top of each other (I'll have pics in a week or so). High tide is particularly impressive, with violent seawater bursting all geyser-like through the blowholes in the rock.
Te Nikau consists of a number of cute wooden cabins hidden in this impossibly thick forest. People could be making drugs down the road here for all I know.
I, along with several other girls (a few Germans, an Irish, one Korean, and me, the only American) wake at 6:30am to bake bread for sale (hearty type with linseeds, oats, sunflower seeds, etc, in it. Yummy), bake muffins and clean rooms, do laundry. Every night we have a fire going in our little garage because the cold and rain tell us to. In exchange for our hard labor, we girls get free food (tons and tons of this bread) and acommodation (a converted garage where big huge bugs hang from the ceiling and fleas chew on our flesh as we sleep). We're a pretty quiet bunch, but sometimes we have wine after dinner and serenade the guests, who more often than not are indulging in their own fun activities. Hee hee.
It's so lush that everything grows here, but the coolest plant is the giant fern. It's so big that it could be mistaken for a palm tree. A ten minute bushwalk takes you to a gorgeous beach where mighty waves crash and churn like mad on the jagged rocks.
Crazy flightless birds called "wekas" run around wreaking havok, and I can't stand them because people think they're cute and want to feed them. This makes them really cheeky, and I caught one actually climbing the staircase in the main cabin! Little bastard.
The closest sign of civilization is the "town" of Punakaiki, which is a metropolis consisting of a cafe and visitor's center. Yee-haw!
It really is beautiful here, but sometimes I think I'm going to go mad from the boredom that comes after the housekeeping is done. Stare out the window and watch it rain.

HITCHIKING WITH SALTY DOGS
Getting here was half the fun. In Christchurch I got a lift from an Australian sailor. He was a colorful bearded bloke in his mid fifties whose brain seemed a little, um, spacey. I showed up at his hostel door first thing in the morning, but he was running late because he couldn't find his keys, which were lost inside his military-style jacket, the kind with dozens of pockets on it. Even though you could hear the keys when he jiggled the jacket around, he shook it for 15 minutes, gave up in frustration, and decided to take a shower instead.
I left the hostel, had a coffee and returned half an hour later. He'd found the keys by then so climbed into his new purchase -- a manila campervan from the 70s -- and puttered away.
We wound our rickety way out of Christchurch in that unstable campervan and almost flew off the curving coastal road a few times. About half an hour outside the city, he slammed on the brakes.
"Ooohh!" he yelped. "A fruit and vegetable stand! We can cook breakfast in the caravan!"
What? We were in the middle of BFM!
We drove backwards down the road for about a kilometer or so and swung into a tiny dirt road marked by a cardboard sign that escaped my notice. Sure enough, there was a wee shop that sold apricots, apples, eggs and such. He ended up cooking a HUGE breakfast in the back of the van: fried tomatoes, mushroom omelettes, porridge and coffee (with cream and sugar). Good lord.
Anyhow, we ended up in my destination, Punakaiki Pancake Rocks, a full 8 hours later than planned. Relieved, I climbed out and asked him how much I owed him for the gas. He said the weirdest thing.
"Thirteen dollars and 25 cents," he said immediately.
Uh, okay buddy. The figure was obviously high and so...exact. So I paid him $15 and told him to keep the change, upon which he extended his arms and wrapped me in a bear hug.
"I love you, sistah."
Then he sputtered away. The campervan making tinlike, clanky noises and I felt so sorry for it.


END OF THURSDAY AT THE B & B
I'm off to take some guests to the beach now, but forget the romantic visions of white sand and blue sky. Though it's beautiful here, the ocean is violent, the shoreline rocky and the sky ominous. So dramatic and mysterious.
However, the Retreat is making me feel sleepy and lazy (must be the special plants growing around here, or some bug-bite disease) so I'm gonna hightail it out of here in the next few days and take the ferry to WELLINGTON on the north island, the San Francisco of New Zealand!!!
Meanwhile I'll try not to eat the chocolate bunny on Lisa's desk. There's not enought chocolate around here.

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Comments

[anonymous]

Weird!
Can I hire you when you come back? Nice vision of you with your arms up to the elbows in flour with a hanky on your head and cussing like a sailor. What has happened to our sweet dear?