University bound (but not for a while)

Just a short note to let those of you who care know that the University of Victoria (in Wellington) has just offered me a place in their graduate diploma of teaching program.  Huzzah!

I've let them know that I'd like to defer a year and start in 2012.  I'd like to take advantage of the fact that I have a working holiday Visa now since I'll never get a chance to have one again (there's an age limit that, alas, I am beyond).

Hopefully the University will let me get in without having to go through the entire reapplication process again.  In any case, it's great for the morale to have been accepted at both universities, and I'm glad that I can drop the online course I've been doing for Otago -- it was rather stressful having to stay on top of that stuff when I often don't know what day of the week it is.

So thanks again to everyone who helped me with my application -- Denis, Joyce, Rowena, mom, Val, Kathleen, etc.

Taupo: land of trout and falls.

After 10 days in Picton, it was time to head north.  On a very sunny Sunday the 14^th I set off for Wellington, just a hop, skip and a three-hour ferry ride across the Tasman Straight.

Where the ferry goes between the islands.

Half-way through the journey the brilliantly hot sunshine gave way for heavy clouds and, predictably, wind.  For you see, Wellington is known for its wind.  I’ve never been to Chicago, but despite it’s nickname (the windy city) I doubt it has anything on Wellington.  Winds of 60 km an hour hit the city about half of the days of the year.  I resigned myself to three days of wind-whipped hair.

Aaaaaaand I got it.

I spent Monday wrapping up some loose ends and exploring the waterfront (hair firmly ensconced under a hat), which was a little eventful.  On my walk from Oriental Parade to Evans Bay I witnessed a truck sideswiping a parked car, and a really bad argument between a couple.  It was a little scary.  Being alone, I didn’t know what to do – I was about to call 111 (the equivalent of 911) when they took off in their car.  I regret not confronting them and seeing if she was all right, but at the time I didn’t feel comfortable with that. 

How the rich in Wellington get from their car to the house.

The walkway along the water in downtown Wellington.

I didn't see a penguin here, but I did see a sign. :)

On Tuesday, I had the engagement that had brought me to Wellington in the first place – my interview with the University of Victoria’s Faculty of Education.  I say interview, but it was hardly the Q & A session I had envisaged.  I was but one of 10 applicants at the “assessment exercise” (as it was formally called). 

Under the watchful eyes of the directors of the program we basically had a discussion/debate about the most important qualities a teacher should possess.  It was interesting to hear different points of view from the other applicants.  I think I made some good arguments and came across well.  Unfortunately, I may not find out if I’ve been accepted until December 17^th, which is really late, given that classes start exactly a month later.  Sheesh.

The cable car that travels between downtown to the top of the botanic gardens.

In any case, though I really like Wellington, I expect that I’ll be spending a lot more time there in the coming year(s), so I didn’t linger.  The next morning I boarded a bus and seven hours later emerged blinking into the bright, hot Taupo sun.

Smack dab in the middle of the North Island, Lake Taupo measures an impressive 600 sq km, making it by far the largest lake in New Zealand (though it’s a mere pond when you compare it to the behemoths we have in North America). It is actually a water-filled crater of a super volcano that last erupted some 1800 years ago with spectacular results. It was such a massage blast that the ash it spewed forth darkened the sky halfway across the world – There are records of both the Egyptians and Chinese writing about the red sky around that time. It was very likely the biggest eruption in recorded history.

This picture sucks.  The day before there was aamzing views of the snow-capped volcanos in Tongariro National Park across the water, but my camera's batteries were dead.  Since then, the clouds have completely obscured them. Curses!

Sitting on the water’s edge, looking out at its smooth docility, it’s hard to imagine that Lake Taupo was ever capable of such cataclysmic doings.  Today it’s a resort town most known for its trout fishing (trout were introduced by humans some 120 years ago) and the nearby Huka Falls.

It was to those falls that I directed myself this morning. From the town centre, the falls are about an hour’s walk away.  And what a nice walk it was.  The path starts off in the evocatively-named Spa Thermal Park, next door to Taupo’s bungy spot (alas, though I waited ten minutes, no one took the literal plunge while I was there). 

An uninteresting bungy shot.

The park is thus named in honour of the hot spring that tinkles steamily into the much cooler Waikato River.  I’m constantly amazed and delighted by all this natural hot water spewing from the ground here.  It really is amazing to plunge your feet into what your brain is telling you should be icy wetness only to find yourself recoiling at unexpected near-scalding water. 

I lingered at the stream for a few minutes, relishing the warmth of the stream and experience science at work as the hot water of the stream met the cold water of the river – it was altogether bizarre to feel the cold water around my feet while at the same time my calves were roasting.

You can kind of see the steam rising from this stream.

The path winds its way along the western banks of the delightfully blue Waikato River to Huka Falls some 2.8 km away.  The river itself is deceptively placid for much of the way. 

The Waikato River looking oh so calm.

As with most kiwi rivers, the water is clear and clean, and it meanders along fairly calmly until all of a sudden it’s not so calm anymore.  The river suddenly narrows from some 40m or so to a mere 10m. This bottleneck causes the water to shoot out with a force that is, in a word, impressive.

The river gets a bit wilder...



...and then BOOM!

It’s hardly the tallest or the most beautiful waterfall in the country – frankly, it looks manmade.

 

According to the handy little signposts next to the falls, there are 200,000 litres of water that cascade over the 9m falls every second.  In the space of a minute, the falls could fill five Olympic sized swimming pools.  It’s no wonder that kiwis have capitalized on this awesome force to generate energy. The river supplies more than half of the North Island’s total energy needs and more than a third of the entire country’s.  That’s a lot of power.

So I’m here in Taupo for another day. And given that it’s rather crappy weather, I’m not planning much today – Internet, some errands in town, perhaps a bit of a walk.  Ho hum.  Tomorrow I’m off to Auckland where I’ll spend a chunk of time before leaving for Sydney.

The beach is littered with pumice stones – you know those things you buy to grate the dead skin and callouses off your feet? – which look like regular rocks, but are in fact incredibly light. 

They even float.

A little bit about some of the birds of New Zealand

Now’s the time you’ve all been waiting for: A kiwi history-biology lesson!  (hisology? Biostory?).  Yay!

A scant thousand years ago the three islands that make up New Zealand (North Island, South Island, Stewart Island) were green and bushy places positively writhing with jolly birdlife. The reason these birds were so jolly was that they OWNED this land. There were the giants: the Haast’s Eagle with its three-metre wingspan ruled the sky, while the mighty moa, that at four meters of height stood as the tallest bird in the world, dominated the ground. There were also some more modest species: the interesting huia, the colourful takahe, and of course the kiwi.

At that time the lone mammal round these parts was a bat, so the only predators birds had to worry about were other, bigger birds. With threats only coming from above, the ground was a pretty safe to be. Many species decided that flying was for chumps and just stopped doing it.  After a while, they evolved so that they couldn’t fly if they tried (not sure if they have). Their best defence mechanism was to stand perfectly still to avoid detection from above.

All was cool for a long time, but then, around a thousand years ago, something rather cataclysmic happened. A bunch of boats landed on NZ’s shore. 

When the Polynesian men, women and children disembarked from their vessels, it was the first time a non-flying mammal had set foot on New Zealand soil.  That’s when the trouble began.

Let’s face it, were not exactly a species known for its conservation efforts.  Predictably, the first New Zealanders went a little hog wild with the hunting and within a few hundred years, the moa, and the Haasts’s eagle (who depended on the moa for food) were mere memories. 

What was even worse for the native birds was the cargo the humans brought with them. Dogs and rats had a gay old time snuffling about the bush and wrestling up some unsuspecting flightless birds by the thousands.  It was devastating to the bird population, who, you will recall, defended itself by standing still to avoid detection – not so effective a strategy when dealing with a snarling beast on land. 

Over the centuries, man misguidedly introduced other harmful species to NZ – the cat, the stoat, the ferret, the possum, sheep, cows – which, either through hunting or over-grazing, have all contributed to drastically lowering the endemic bird population here.

Nowadays, there are countless measures to try and save native birds – hunting them is strictly forbidden, fences are in place in some areas to try and keep out cats and dogs, stoat and possum traps dot the country’s forests, the government encourages farmers and land owners to hunt the pests. But it’s all a drop in the bucket.

Likely one of the most successful endeavours is the creation of a number of bird sanctuaries; islands that have been cleared of predators and populated with endemic birds.  There are a number of these islands around the country, and for the first time last week, I got to visit one.

Motuara Island taken from the Queen Charlotte Track

Motuara Island is situated in the Queen Charlotte Sounds a good hour and a half boat ride from Picton. If you’re already doing the Queen Charlotte Track, for an extra $7 the taxi boat companies will drop you off on the island and pick you up an hour and a half later to ferry you to the start of the track five minutes away.

What a great experience. I was but one of ten people on the island that morning, and we were all respectfully silent in speech and soft of footstep. Birdsong was the only thing to be heard most of the time. Often I was completely alone with the birds for long stretches. There was a path from the wharf that corkscrewed its way around the island and led up to a lookout tower at the top. Walking very slowly, it took me about half an hour to reach the top. 

So, there’s not much to say.  It was quiet.  It was serene.  The birds seemed happy and peaceful.  For twenty minutes at the end of my time there I was completely alone as the other people had come over on a different boat than me. So let’s have a look at some of the birds I saw, yeah?

This little robin was one of the many who were excedingly friendly.  Stop walking for a minute and you'd have at least one or two of them alighting on nearby branches.  At one point I sat still for five minutes and had four of them all hopping within mere cm of me. It was really cute.



The path on Motuara island.

A native New Zealand pigeon.  The thing was HUGE.

A red-crowned parakeet

The friendly grey robin.  As you can see, they were tagged.  I don't think the other species were.

I could be wrong, but I think this is a yellowhammer.

A little blue penguin!  She's not in a cage.  That's her nest, which happens to be just beside the track. She can leave at any time. The netting is there to prevent stupid tourists from trying to touch her and getting bit for their efforts. We made eye contact.  I was enthralled.  She was bored and likely a little annoyed.

A silverfern unfurling.

A sun-dappled mature silverfern.



Walking and walking and walking near Picton -- the Queen Charlotte Track and others

In the beginning, God created the earth, then after a while he put some humans on that earth.  Those humans lumbered around on their four limbs for a few (ok, many) thousands of years before some show off started to balance on just two legs (probably to impress some chick), and eventually, everyone else decided to copy him (all the cool kids were doing it) and humans became bipeds. 

A loooong time later, a biped known as Nadine decided to put her walking shoes on and get out walking. 

Cause there’s some good walking to be done in these parts.

Picton is known among travellers mainly for two things: its port (the ferry that links the two main islands travels between here and Wellington) and for being the gateway to the Queen Charlotte Track.

Ferry leaving Picton bound for Wellington. The trip takes approximately tree hours. There are two companies who each run four or five crossings a day.

I did a section of the track during my last trip and liked it so much, that I decided to do it again. So on Tuesday, I booked the required taxi boat and accommodation for Wednesday and Thursday.

Since I’ve been fairly inactive lately, I wanted to get a bit of exercise in so that the long walks wouldn’t be such a shock to the old legs.

So Tuesday afternoon, I filled up my water bottle, grabbed some sunscreen and my big hat, and headed out to The Snout, a finger of land that juts out into the Queen Charlotte Sounds from downtown Picton.  

It was a beautiful walk (are there any other kind in NZ? If so, I haven’t found one yet) with great views of  the Sounds and of Picton itself.

View of Picton from the Snout Track.

I hadn’t really looked into the length of the walk, nor at the weather, which was, in retrospect, a bit unwise. Turns out that it was a 12km treck, half of which was uphill on un-sheltered paths, all in blazing sun (have I mentioned how insanely strong the sun is here?).  That lone bottle of water I brought with me was far from enough.  By the time I stumbled back into town more than three hours later, I was dehydrated, dizzy, and weak.  I rushed to the grocery store and bought myself a beverage as quickly as I could.

With that experience fresh on my mind, I packed three full bottles for the Queen Charlotte. 

The QC track runs for 71km along a series of undulating bays. Done from tip to tip, the QC generally takes four or five days to complete. One of the great things about the track though is that you can do as little or as much of it as you want.  A taxi boat ferries you to the point of entry you select, and picks you up on the day you choose at the place you choose.

I opted to do the first 27km since that section offers nice long flat-ish sections (not too much climbing!) and can be spread out over the course of two days with one night spent along the track.

The best thing about the QC though is the logistics of it.  The taxi boat ride in is phenomenally beautiful, and depending on which company you go with, you often end up visiting a bunch of the bays and homesteads since they’re dropping off supplies and mail.  Those boats also drop off trampers’ packs, so you don’t have to carry much on your back, even if you’re doing a multi-day hike.  There, waiting for you by the door of your room or cabin will be your bags, transported here as if by magic! Bliss!

I won’t bore you with the details of the walk.  All I’ll say is that it’s nice. Sometimes you’re on the top of a big hill enjoying stunning views on both sides. Others, you’re nearly at sea level marvelling at the colour of the water. In either case, you’re really happy to be there.

One of the many coves along the Queen Charlotte.

Pretty flowers along the track.

This unidentified plant is among my favourite in NZ. I've seen it up and down the country. It's really cool.

I did 15km over three and a half hours the first day, and spent the night at Furneaux Lodge.  It should actually be called Fur-NO Lodge – the place is an overpriced hole.  I was all alone in a bare and spooky cabin which is set up to sleep 25 people. Presumably these 25 people are simple folk who don’t need such luxuries as entertainment, or hot showers, or a kettle, or rubbish bins, or lights, or in some cases, walls, cause Furno didn’t supply these. Sheesh.

FurNO lodge's backpacker cabin

Oh well.  It was just for one night, and now I can spread the news throughout the land of how crappy a place it is. 

Day two was a bit of a bother, not because the terrain was hard or the road long or the weather bad. Nay, it was an easy 12km over mostly flat land in ideal conditions. My toes, however, had been reduced to bulbous lumps of blisters from the previous day’s efforts. I have no idea why.  I have good hiking shoes and I’ve walked greater distances in them.  In any case, they hurt, and I limped most of the way to the pickup point.

The weka is a flightless wood hen.  As you can see, they are rather unafraid of humans.

Fern shadows

Fun with tripod.

On the ride back to town yesterday we had an unexpected treat.  We came across a pod of about 15 bottlenose dolphins and we watched them cavort around us for a good 20 minutes.  They even chased us for a bit when we started to drive away. I don’t think it’s possible to grow tired of watching those animals.

A synchronized dolphin dive.

Though I was sure I wouldn’t want to take one more step than absolutely necessary, today I set out to the grocery store to pick up some supplies (hair dye, wine) and was so seduced by the fabulous weather, that, on a whim, I decided to go for a walk.

There’s a path that leads up one of the many hills around Picton to a hilltop lookout that a few people had told me about. It wasn’t a long walk – only about an hour in total – and the view was great. I chatted with a retired kiwi couple at the top, then I made my way back down.  Other than a moment when I lost my footing and nearly went ass-over-teakettle, it was pretty uneventful. 

The view from up top.

So I’m back in Picton at the best hostel I’ve ever been to.  Tombstone has free breakfast, a hot tub, awesome hosts, two cute cats, a lemon tree, comfy beds, lots of room to spread out, and no idiotic 18-year-olds trying to impress one another.  It’s great.  So great in fact that I’ve decided to stick around for longer than I planned.  I’m going to take it easy here for the next two days, enjoy the sunshine, the tranquility and try to stay off my feet J

So I guess the last order of business is to let you know that I’ve been accepted into the graduate diploma of teaching programme at Otago.  So that’s good.  I’m leaning towards deferring until 2012 though.  I also have a meeting with the University of Victoria next week, so I want to wait to hear from them before deciding.

In any case, I’m continuing with the work for the prerequisite course for Otago, and managed to submit my essay a full three days early (a hostel is hardly the best environment in which to write an essay, BTW).

On one of the lookouts on the Queen Charlotte.  Note the tan :)

Diving in Picton -- Wetsuits are the "togs" of the devil

So let’s see, when last I left you, I was in Christchurch diligently working on my essay and enjoying the gentle swaying of the earth (felt a second little earthquake my last morning in the city).

Last Thursday (the 4^th) I hopped in with a very nice Spanish girl who was driving up to Picton.  It was a six-hour drive, but the time went by quickly, thanks to her good company.  We stopped once along the way in Gore Bay to have lunch on the beach. 

Lunch stop between Chch and Picton.

Where I am.

I would have preferred a slow ascent of the South Island, spreading the journey over many days, but I was in a bit of rush to make Picton, since on Friday I started my Open Water scuba diving course. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for years, so I was very happy to finally get ‘er done.

The course was really rather informal. I spent two days in the classroom one-on-one with my instructor Brett.  Mainly, I read the manual, watched two DVDs and we did a few skills in the pool – clearing water out of your mask, what to do if your regulator (the thing you breath from) gets knocked out of your mouth, etc. I’d been diving before, and am really comfortable in the water, so it wasn’t very difficult.

More difficult were the actual dives.  Not because of the skills. Not because of the waves.  Not because of the added pressure of 12 feet of water. What made them difficult was the bloody cold.  In the South Island, the water doesn’t get all that hot, especially this early in the season.  It was a frosty 13 degrees down there.  So out came the wetsuits.  And the booties. And the hood.  And the gloves.  And still I was shivering. There are now about a dozen kiwis who think that Canadians are soft when it comes to cold.  Sorry Canucks. I didn’t represent.

Frozen divers in Picton. I was soon among their ranks.

I did the dives with a group of students who had been doing the classroom and pool stuff over the course of a few weeks.  I had visions of bonding with my fellow novice divers over the shared experiences.  Maybe heading out for a beer after the dives.  Alas, the others were all air force cadets who knew each other. 

There were some pros and cons to spending two days diving with that particular group.

Pro: they were young, strapping boys who filled out their wetsuits quite well.

Con: I was all the more aware of how I filled out my wetsuit.  Those things are mighty unforgiving.

Pro: they were spry and strong, and helped me carry my gear down and up the steep track to the water.

Con: I needed their help to carry the gear. I felt weak and uncoordinated.

Pro: they were a lot of fun and the atmosphere was friendly and light.

Con: I wasn’t really a part of that fun.  I really was more of an observer.  It’s always the case with a big group though.  Had I been younger, or male, or kiwi, I might have been able to break into the group a bit, but really, with all that stacked against me, I didn’t really care to try too much.

In any case.  I’m certified!  I can now dive on my own (with a buddy, of course).  So hopefully I’ll get out a few times over the coming months.  I just need to make a bit of money first. L

Next up: Why my toes are gone and why they’ve been replaced by then blister-mounds.

Penitent post

Mercy!  Would you look at the time.

Sorry for being away for so long.  In my defence, I've been busy with courses, and when I haven't been busy doing homework, i've been outside enjoying the weather, cause it's just been too gosh darn sunny and hot to be cooped up inside in front of a computer. Am I forgiven?

I promise to write up some stuff tonight, cause I know you're all dying to know the minutia of my life. :)

And a big shout out to my baby brother Paul who turns 27 (or is it 26?) today (well, today here, tomorrow in Canada).  Happy Birthday!  Can't wait to see you next month.

Stupid viruses

I think I'm getting a cold. 

The signs: My throat hurts. My head hurts. My whining is ramping up. 

For those of you keeping score, this is the second such illness I've been stricken with in the past six weeks.

Allow me to wallow in self pity.  I will also accept others' pity. 

That is all.

PS: short enough for you Paul?

Quakey Shakey

Felt a little earthquake yesterday.  It was a 4.5 (which made it five times less powerful than the one we had in Ontario this summer) and it only lasted ten seconds or so.  I didn't actually realize it was a quake until it was nearly done.

I was reading at the table in the kitchen and thought it was someone vigorously sawing at something.  I was in the process of shooting a dirty look across the room when someone said "do you feel that?"  I felt like a right bitch. 

Anyway, just thought I'd share.

http://www.nzherald.co.nz/nz/news/article.cfm?c_id=1&objectid=10684733

There (Wanaka) and back again (to Christchurch)

It occurred to me the other night that most people don’t know the lay of the land here, and when I talk about certain places, you have no idea where on God’s green Earth I actually am.  So here’s a snapshot of where I’ve been over the past six weeks.

So, if you’ve interpreted my little map correctly (or if you’ve read the handy little title above), you’ll have deduced that I’m back in Christchurch. 

It was with a bit of a heavy heart, and a heavier bag, that I left Wanaka Saturday morning.  Over the course of the six days I’d spent at the filthy house, it had gotten steadily cleaner and cosier.  It really was nice having my own room, even if sound travelled through the paper-thin walls with surprising efficiency (I shared a wall with a Swedish “goth” couple, the female half who, if she wasn’t watching episode after episode of Two and a Half Men, was jabbering incessantly). And I doubt I’d ever get enough of looking at those mountains.

Lucky ducks

But leave Wanaka I did, hopping on board the 10:45 naked bus with no real idea of how long of a journey it would be.

I wasn’t bothered though.  One of my favourite things to do in this country is to just sit back and watch the invariably gorgeous scenery glide by.

This particular journey brought me through Otago’s Lindy’s Pass, with its kilometre upon kilometre of tussock-tufted hills and snow-dusted mountains.  The Southern Alps snuck into view around midday, and thankfully stuck around for a few hours. 

Mmmmmmm....tussocky.

At near 2:00 we had a rest stop and bus changeover in Lake Tekapo.  This delightful little town had charmed me and my travel companion last trip, and in the half hour I was there on Saturday, it had nearly convinced me to ditch the rest of the ride and make camp there for a few nights.

The main draw of the town of Lake Tekapo isn’t the, admittedly stunning, views (more gorgeous mountains? Ho hum), or the nice walks (Another amazing treck?  Yawn).  No.  The name of the place says it all.  The lake is what sets this place apart.

Just look at that water:

Have you ever seen, even imagined, water that colour?  Though it looks like the result of a chemistry experiment gone wrong, or some kind of awful environmental disaster, I can assure you, it’s not.  That’s all natural baby.

Well...that camera angle's not so natural.  Nor is my hair colour.  But the water is all natural baby.

I might mess up the science here a bit, but here’s what I remember from the explanation I got last year.  The rivers that feed into the lake flow down from glaciers in the Alps.  As those glaciers move subtly about, they grind against the mountains and create this rocky powder that gets carried downstream towards the lake.  This “rock flour” is so ultra-fine that it’s suspended in the water, and the light reflects off of it in such a way that we see that brilliant turquoise.  Pictures really don’t do it justice. 

The rest of the journey was rather uneventful.  The only thing of note was the interminable chatter of two Spanish girls sitting in front of me.  Good golly could those chicks yammer on.  In six hours of travel they were quiet for all of 45 minutes I reckon.  Most of you likely know that I’m quite the introvert, and I cherish those relationships where silences are comfortable and not infrequent.  When I’m thrust into a confined space with people who have never met a silence they didn’t fill, I get antsy.  Thank goodness for my ipod.

**Little tangent here: as I sit here writing this, the girl next to me has removed her shoes, unleashing a foot odour of a potency which defies description.  It’s distracting, and disgusting. Thank you for allowing me to share my pain.  And now back to regularly scheduled programming**

So, here I am back in Christchurch.  A few things have brought me back here, and only one is actually fun.

·        I’m slowly making my way north so I can be sure to be in Wellington for my interview with the University of Victoria on November 16^th.  (not fun)

·        My laptop battery has stopped functioning properly.  It won’t run unless it’s plugged in, won’t take a charge, and is steadily losing power.  I’m hoping to find a replacement in town, but given that it’s a Sony, things aren’t looking promising (definitely not fun)

·        I have to peruse the library to do some research for this stupid essay I’m expected to write for this course I’m enrolled in against my will.  A course that’s a prerequisite for a program I’m not even sure I’ve been accepted into yet. In other words, I might be doing this work for nothing!  Yay! (decidedly not fun)

·        The Black Seeds had a show in town Saturday night (fun!) and I went (double fun!). 

There’s a very good chance you’ve never heard of the Black Seeds, but they’re a big deal here in New Zealand.  They’re an eight-piece “dub” band I discovered during my last trip here.  On a whim last week I went to their site (and now you can too!) and looked up their upcoming concert schedule.  To find out that they were playing a few days later in an accessible location was quite the thrill.  The show was lots of fun, even though I was on my own.  I’d go see them again in a heartbeat.

It’s interesting being here during Halloween.  When I first came here in 2004, it wasn’t celebrated much at all, but in the years hence, it’s started to take hold.  Last night there were some disguised revellers out on the town, but not many.  Apparently some trick or treating took place, though most households didn’t have candy (or “lollies” as they say here) on hand. And no pumpkins  or jack o’ lanterns are to be found – not surprising given that it’s spring. 

So that’s about it for now. I've spent the last two (sunny) days at the library. I'm supposed to submit an essay on the 12th, and I figured I'd get it out of the way as soon as possible. Hopefully I'll have a first draft done tomorrow.

On Thursday I'm taking off for Picton and the next morning I'm starting a scuba diving course.  Huzzah!  I've been wanting to get certified for years and have never taken the time to do it.  I've tried to work something out a few times since I left Canada, but timing was never right.  Looks like it'll work out this time though, so I'm thrilled.

TTFN!