The week the Hobbits came to town

My love for all things Lord of the Rings (well...the movies, anyway) is what first brought me to NZ way back in 2004, so it's fair to say that those movies changed my life. 

So you can imagine how chuffed I was to find myself, by pure cooincidence, staying in the same village where filming for The Hobbit was going on.

For the past five days I've been a giddy little girl, unashamedly asking people to take my photo with them and chatting up whomever I can, so long as they're somehow linked to the movie.

At first, I only encoutered crew members (drivers, caterers, etc.), all of whom received these hoodies a few days prior:

That dude in the background owns this hoodie.  He goodnaturedly offered to let me wear it for a photo. 

I'm such a geek.

 A few days later, I came across some of the lesser-known actors such as Richard Armitage, Graham McTavish, and Stephen Hunter.

But, finally, on Monday this happened:



Martin Freeman! He plays Bilbo.  You might also know him from The Office, Hitchhiker`s Guide to the Galaxy and Love Actually.
(Stupid blogging site!  Why have you made vertical pictures unusable?)



And the main event:



Yup.  That's me with Sir Ian Freaking McKellan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gandalf/Magneto himself.
He was lovely.  Friendly, funny, gracious and all round awesome.  Defnitely not the diva he has every right to be.

How amazing is that????? I was shaking when I first talked to him, but he was obviously used to it and took it all in stride.  I'm sure I came off as a ditzy chick. Oh well. 

Sadly, they've wrapped up their filming here, and they've left me bereft. 

Snowboarding and other random pictures

I am happy to report that after being employed at a ski field for the better part of three months, dating a ski instructor for the same amount of time, and taking two lessons, I have reached one of my goals for the year.  I can finally say I'm comfortable skiing down some of the blue runs at Treble Cone (which would be considered black runs anywhere else. That mountain be STEEP).


Woohoo!


And, as of Tuesday, I acheived another goal -- I tried snowboarding.


Dave very kindly took time out of his work day up at the Cardrona ski resort where he works to show me how to board.  We went there cause it's a much easier mountain on which to learn anything thanks to its mercifully flat beginners' area and actual green runs (as mentioned above blue runs at Treble Cone = black elsewhere.  Same goes for the green run.  Green at TC = blue anywhere else).


It was a lot of fun, despite the multiple painful and embarassing spills and the inevitable mocking from my oh-so-helpful instructor (anyone who's ever tried to learn a new skill or teach a new skill to a romantic partner knows what I'm talking about). By late afternoon I managed to make it down the oh-so-flat slope once or twice without falling!  Go me!  Dave had to (begrudgingly) admit that I "turned out to be pretty average" after all.  Yay!  Mediocrity!


Though I am devastatingly without a camera at the moment, luckily Dave has one and has been very generous about my borowing it.  So, I have pictures!


Heading up the "magic carpet" (basically like an escalator in the snow).

After one of my many spills.



Still smiling though.  I'm a trouper.

We have motion! Look up Nadine.  Look up! 


I'm planning on taking another lesson on Monday or Tuesday up at Treble Cone, so hopefully I'll be able to actually make it down a run or two by then. 


In the meantime, I'm nursing sore muscles, limping, and groaning like an old lady.


Let's see, what else has been going on lately?


Dave and I went down to Invercargill again last week to watch a Rugby World Cup game between Scotland and Georgia.  It was fun, though expensive and the game itself was rather a snoozefest since not a single try (goal) was scored.  All the points were made thanks to penalty kicks.  Yawn.


Here are some photos.




Some sheep bedecked in the flags of the four nations that played games down in Invercargill.

A dude in a jaunty Scotish cap watches as the national anthems are sung before the match.

Heineken is sponsoring the RWC, so they're the only beer you can buy on the spot.  They come in these awful four packs, with environmentally unfriendly rings from which the beer is hard to extract (especially since they open the cans before selling them to you).  We ended up spending $72 on beer between the two of us.  That's for 12 beers.  Damn it.  As a result, I don't remember much of the second half of the match.

Unflattering shot of moi during the match.  Notice the be-mulleted man to my left (your right)?  He made a point of giving the finger to the TV camera every time it was pointed in his general direction.  Classy.  Also, it was raining, thus the hood.

Have I mentioned that Dave is also a volunteer fireman?  Pretty sweet eh?  Well two Saturdays ago there was an event to hand out plaques and stripes and pins and medals and such to various members of the Wanaka, Luggate and Hawea (three regions near here) fire brigade to recognize their years of service, and I got to go as Dave's date.


Not going to lie, the night was interminibly long what with the pomp and circumstance and the speaches and the awkward conversations.  It was like being at a high school graduation and a wedding where you know nobody all rolled into one.  On the plus side, I got to dress up and go somewhere with a man in uniform (awwwwww yeah!) and there was an open bar.  And you know I availed myself of that.




Me in a dress for the first time in months, and Dave in his fancy fireman suit for the first time ever.




Dave and some fellow brigaderes (not sure if that's a word, but I like it anyway) line up for some official welcome thing.  He's the fourth from the left.

 And I've had a few fun nights out with people from work.  Often I don't have a camera with me, but this particular night I did.


Me and the blondies: Jade, Jenny and Amber at Amber's house.



Amber and I looking as happy as we were (notice the glass).

 And Dave and I went to the old mining town of Arrowtown one day last week too.  He used to work at one of the resorts there and brought me on a little tour. It was quaint.



Me near the waterfall beside the Millbrook Resort.



Very likely the highlight of the week -- This is around where they filmed the Ford of Bruinen scenes in Fellowship of the Ring.  You know, the scene with the horses and the river.  I annoyed Dave with quotes from the movie for a good ten minutes after this ("Give us the halfling She Elf!"  "If you want him, come and claim him!").  Ahhhhh. Now that I look at it though, I think I should have gone another few hundred metres upriver.  Oh well.  Close enough.

And of course, in my jobless state, I've been spending a lot of time with a furry and barky creature.  He's taken to following me around wherever I go during the day on the off-chance that I might bring him for a walk (I do take him out once or twice a day).  Poor Scruff.




Scruffle Ruffle!  Happy to be out on a walk.



Speaking of Scruff, I really should bring him out.  He's been ever so patient all morning. Toodleloo!

A brief glimpse of Tongoriro National Park and Wellington

When I last checked in with you folks, we were nestled in the foothills of the mountains in Tongoriro National Park.  I’m very glad we had arrived during daylight hours and had a nice – if distant – look at the mountains, for the view that had so enchanted us on Tuesday was completely obliterated by Wednesday morning.  The mountains were fully shrouded by the thick clouds and fog that had moved in overnight.  Fie!

The forecast had promised the clouds would burn off, so we valiantly headed deeper into the park to Whakapapa village wearing clothing we had deemed appropriate for the excursion – nylon pants, t-shirts, cardigans and rain jackets. 

At the i-site (the visitor’s centre) we enquired about short walks in the area, specifically about the Meads walk – a half-hour walk to a rock wall that was used in some scene in LOTR (still not sure which one). The woman at the counter directed us to head on up to the ski fields, and to take a path behind one of the lifts. 

Let’s remember that it’s early spring here and that we were up in the mountains.  Hence, there was still snow up there, and the ski season was still in full swing (it’s a school holiday this week).  Remember those nylon pants, t-shirts, cardigans and rain jackets we were sporting? Well, we quickly discovered that they were definitely not warm enough. 

We pulled out all the extra layers and cold-weather accessories we could and girded ourselves for a nice challenging walk through the mist. 

Toasty!



We couldn’t see more than 10 feet in front of us for a while, but only for a short while, cause about five minutes after setting out up that slippery, snowy hill, we were in a clearing, and it appeared that we were at the end of the walk (30 minutes my sweet patootie).  The fog suddenly lifted and we were standing in front of a 10-15m high rock wall that we assume was the star of the show.  We took a few quick photos, then headed back to try and warm up. 



Quick!  Someone tell me what scene this is in! We haven't figured it out yet.



We drove (and by “we” I mean Nick) to Wellington all afternoon. Along the way we skirted some truly alarming rock faces that were either seemingly on the brink of tumbling into the road, or had done so already.  We didn't get a picture of it, but one section actually had a car-sized boulder that had rolled across two lanes of road to the other side.

Eeek!  And this was luckily a place where there was a shoulder to the road.  Usually it was just sheer rock face jutting out right next to the pavement.

, and arrived just in time for rush hour.  We swung by two backpacker hostels which had come highly recommended by our travel books and quickly rejected them (the first smelled of a delicate bouquet of old hockey equipment, cat pee and cigarettes; the second’s front porch was writhing with at least 20 disaffected youth. They reminded me of a bunch of cats just lazing about in the sun looking entitled and bored with life).

We ended up at the YHA which was so much nicer than any place I’ve ever stayed in Wellington.  When next I’m back in Wellington I’m not bothering looking anywhere else (and if ever you’re there, do the same.  Trust me.)

We really didn’t see much of Wellington.  A short walk along Cuba street and the main drag was about it.  I did point out a café where the LOTR actors had apparently frequented on occasion, and noticed that the piercing studio that had given me the now-defunct hole in my lip six years ago was equally defunct itself.

It was an early night, as we were expected at the ferry terminal at 7:30 to make our way to the South Island. 

Well…it was meant to be an early night, and Christina and Nick, comfortably ensconced in their cosy double room, did get a full night’s rest.  I, on the other hand, was in a six-person dorm and got lured into a long conversation with a kiwi bloke from somewhere on the North Island who was very sweetly accompanying his niece and her friend to a Paramour concert in town the next night.  They were all very nice.

Who wasn’t nice were the other two twits from our room who loudly stumbled in at 4:00 a.m. More precisely, they loudly and repeatedly attempted unsuccessfully to open the door at 4:00 a.m.  When I got up to open the door for them, they proceeded to turn on the lights and slowly and noisily get ready for bed to the backdrop of my passive aggressive sighs.

I so wanted to return the favour when my alarm went off two and half hours later, but I couldn’t do that to the uncle and girls.  So instead, I did what all nice roommates should, and got ready in the dark trying to make as little noise as possible.  I did get one final passive aggressive act in and used the twits’ nice face wash and moisturiser they had left in the washroom – that’ll teach them! (Not that they’ll notice, but whatever).

On a positive note, that morning was clear and bright, and for once, Wellington wasn’t being hit with gale force winds, so the sea was calm. In short, it was a perfect day to take the ferry.

Just look at that brilliant sunshine.

The crossing from Wellington, on the North Island, to Picton, on the South Island takes three hours on the HUGE ferry boat. It’s a great ride that starts off with great views of Wellington – a picturesque city built into a steep hillside, which means that nearly everyone seems to have a view of the ocean. 

Wellington in the a.m.

The middle section is open sea, which is still quite pretty, and then the last hour or so is through Marlborough Sound, which is particularly stunning.  I was hoping to see dolphins as I had during the crossing last time since Nick has never really seen any (don’t worry, that’s a situation that has been taken care of since then – stay tuned!).  Alas, there were none. 

The Marlborough Sounds -- ahhhhhhhhhhh.

We did see thousands upon thousands of jellyfish though.  So that was cool.

A quick tour of Picton – including the cute park on the water, complete with its own ride-able miniature train and affable conductor – and we were off to Kaikoura, stopping many times along the way to get photos.

How much does this man love his job?  So much!  In case you're wondering, a ride on the train costs 0.20$.

Picton from the boat.

The Ferry in Picton.

Coast, train, and plants

East Coast of the South Island

Nick and a sleepy seal.

Self timers are awesome.

So busy I’m forgetting where I’ve been

Phew. 

What a whirlwind the last few days have been. 

In the week since I met up with Christina and Nick, we have driven some 2000 km plus crossed the Tasman Straight by ferry.  We’ve done tons of activities, both free and for-a-fee, stayed in places ranging from the moderately plush, to the downright basic. We’ve visited sights featured in LOTR, been in water both hot and cold, and had close encounters with some wild creatures.  We’ve collectively consumed, oh, at least half a dozen bags of chips, too much meat, and had many an early night, and equally many an early morning.

On Friday it took the three of us 10 minutes and the help of our photos to figure out where we’d been over the past few days – We had completely forgotten about Tongoriro.  It’s actually not that surprising given that often by nightfall we’d forgotten what we’d done that morning.

So hopefully you’ll forgive me if my accounts of our activities since my last post are less than precise.

It may have to be broken up over the course of a few posts. Be warned.

Just for the heck of it, enjoy this picture of a cute bird in Picton.

Best potatoes ever?  I think so! They ARE gourmet, after all.

Back to Auckland and beyond to the Coromandel, Matamata and to a certain movie set

As you no doubt deducted from the title, I’m back in New Zealand (with a fabulous tan).  Over the past two days I’ve picked up a few things – a functioning bank card for my kiwi bank account, a cell phone, a sore back (due to rather cramped living quarters in Auckland – it was so overbooked that the owner had me sleeping on a mattress on the floor of a tiny two-bed room) and two travel companions. 

I used to babysit Chrissy way back in the day, and now she and her husband Nick are in New Zealand for a few weeks, and I’m tagging along for the ride.  It’s nice to have some company (and such good company at that).

We met up this morning and quickly zipped out of the city in their rental car with no real plan in mind.  Quickly determining that I had never been to the Coromandel, and had always wanted to go, we chose our destination as we were driving north.

On the way, we stopped off in the small town of Matamata whose main claim to fame is being the closest town to where they filmed the Hobbiton scenes in Lord of the Rings. 

What is up with my leg position?

I wasn’t sure I was up to paying the $66 fee to take the tour of the set for a second time (I’d been in 2004), but I’m so glad I did.  I can’t say much, due to a confidentiality agreement I signed, but let’s just say the place looks rather different than it did six years ago.  I’ll let you figure out the rest. ;)

In any case, I danced under the party tree once more.  Squee!

I'd post some of the many many pictures I took, but I could be sued, apparently.  So instead enjoy this picture of this Hobbit-fied toilet paper roll holder in the Shire's Rest café.

After the tour (and the included sheep shearing demo by a local farmer) we set off on our way again due North East. 

Don't mind me.  I'm resigned to my fate of impending baaaaaaahldness.

After a few hours of driving along typically New Zealand winding roads, the light was failing, my stomach was churning, and we were ready to stop for the night.  So stop we have, in the town of Tairua.  This place is obviously a holiday mecca in the summer months, but at the moment it’s deadsville.  We are the only people staying in our hostel other than the guy running the place and his dog.  It’s nice after the too-cosy sleeping situation in Auckland.

Tomorrow bright and early we’re off to Hot Water Beach.  We have to get there between 7:30 and 9:30 to take advantage of the low tide.  Of course it’ll be cold, but apparently if we dig a hole in the sand, the water will be warm. 

Will it be?  Or will we freeze our ta-tas off?  Stay tuned!