I still have a light, if constant, cough, but the local health care system is on it, with antibiotics and X-rays and cool stuff like that. No need to worry on that count.

Little aftershocks from the rest of the trip are going to be around for a while. I’ve been doing double-takes when crossing the street (wait, which way are the cars supposed to be coming from?). And it’s disconcerting to look up at night and recognize the stars, instead of only being able to pick out the Southern Cross among a bunch of strangers.

I took a ton of video, especially back in February and March, when it was the height of summer and everything was green and sunny. Made a couple of video slideshows. Here they are:

And I think that about wraps it up.

The whole trip was awesome. I had a great time. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

…But not just now, because I have a weekend of communing with my fellow geeks to wrangle.

Onward!

Followed by a whole lot more slices. Oh, how I wish I had brought back a tan slice. It would have gotten squashed in the suitcase, but it would have been worth it.

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(2) Speaking of food, I didn’t think I was eating very well, but every single woman I’ve reconnected with since getting back in the country has remarked that I’ve lost weight. Apparently having to buy your own food makes a difference, even if you end up eating a ton of microwave dinners

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(3) Photos! I’ve come to the conclusion that NZ has much cooler playgrounds than we do.

This one was a short walk from the flat, and the place I went whenever I needed a swing:

The view from the top of the Cashmere Hills, looking out on the huge flat plain containing Christchurch and the university:

And the playground up there:

View from the top floor of the (all the way up to eleven!) library:

You can see Ilam Village in this one. (It’s the block of grey buildings in the middle of the background.)

And some stuff from the playground I went to with the family down the street (er, the family was down the street; the playground was a half-hour drive away):


A Flying Fox (zip-line). We used to have one of these in our back yard when I was really young, but it was never this big (or this fun).

And I wish I knew what this one was called:

Here’s that last item in action. The angle is a serious factor – you learn to push when the weight (i.e., the rider) is going uphill, and let gravity do the work on the way down. (You can hear, in the beginning of the video, someone urging me to take a photo. I’m doing them one better.)

Next: stars, and final videos.

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(2) Whose idea was it to make all our bills the same shade of dull green? Whose?

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(3) Photos! As ever, click for the high-quality versions:

Scenes from the journey to Edoras (the top is the view from where the Golden Hall itself stood):

The coast of Wellington:

View from the plane, flying between the islands:

Up in the hills, a lake in a volcanic crater:

From Taylor’s Mistake, a tiny little inlet only reachable by an incredibly twisty road:

Seahorse!

Next: mountains, heights, and…playgrounds.

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(2) Coughs are actually normal, and only happen after some exertion. (Okay, “exertion” can include “running up the stairs.” It’s still a vast improvement.) Have a doctor’s appointment for next week, by which they will probably be gone anyway.

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(3) More large photos – again, click for full size.

From Hagley Park, the Christchurch Botanic Gardens, and the city itself:

From the Wellington Botanic Gardens, which, in contrast to the pancake-flat Christchurch, featured some almost-sheer slopes:

Next: rivers, lakes, streams, inlets, and shores.

This picture has an NZ orange on the left, a California orange on the right. It’s a bit hard to see, but the slices of the NZ orange don’t come apart as cleanly.

And then there’s this one. No prizes for guessing which of those is from California.

(The California oranges are sweeter, too. And they cost about twice as much.)

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(2) Map of New Zealand, in the style of the classic Middle-earth maps.

I would like to smack whoever is responsible for deciding that this poster was not for sale.

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(3) Now that I’m back on a reasonble connection (!), I can start uploading actual high-quality photos. (Click for the large versions.)

First sight of NZ, from the trip in:

Various trees and streams and buildings from around campus:

Ilam Fields:

Next up: the city, and the Botanic Gardens.

I have a ton of pictures to share, along with some video, so this blog will keep updating for another week or two. When the final post hits, I’ll let you know.

Am in LA with the uncle, two cousins (both close to my age, their three skittish cats, some Doctor Who, a whole stack of manga, and a thoroughly screwed-up schedule. It’s early Monday morning at home; my internal clock thinks it’s Monday evening; and both the uncle and cousin #1 have night shifts, so they’re off at work in spite of the local time being half past three in the ack emma.

(The uncle – he’s Mom’s brother, for those of you just joining us – has expressed relief that the cousins are no stranger than I am. And here I had thought most of my eccentricity came from Dad’s side of the family.)

The final form of the plant. Rather than coming and probably getting tossed out at Customs, it’s staying behind, bequeathed to the family down the street.

The kids from said family down the street.

They are, obviously, adorable and wonderful and will surely take good care of it.

Most of the stuff that’s staying here (the cheap towel, the extra shampoo, the crocs that now have a hole in them) ended up getting put in bags and taken to the collection in the common room. The room is stripped bare. Flatmate Sam and I have the same flight, so we’ll be calling a taxi in about an hour.

And then…into the air!

(There’s a tax of NZ$25 for leaving the country. How weird is that?)

He opened the first class with some guidelines: “Take notes, look like you’re staying awake…”

“I come from the US, where we like to execute people.”

Describing a gang from when he grew up, in Milwaukee in the ’50s: “They did nasty things, like spray-painting and bending the aerials on cars.”

On the Branch Davidians: “Since it was in the US, it would probably be difficult to nuke their own country. Even the US probably wouldn’t do that.”

True story: “I passed my Russian exam by hitting all C’s.”

“I left high school and didn’t speak to any of those pepole ever again. Well, not on purpose. I just left the state. And the country.”

On moving away from a bad neighborhood as a child, because his parents didn’t want the bad influence: “I guess it worked, because I turned out as boring as you can possibly imagine.”

He was in a taxidermy club in high school; Jeff Dahmer was in the taxidermy club in the next school district over.

“If you really want to confuse a baby, when they start walking, put a mirror on the floor. It’s fun!”

On the development of legal systems: “What happens if people break the law? What if they kill someone? Well, in the US, you wanna kill them. What if they steal? Well, in the US, you wanna kill them. What if they run a red light? Well, in the US, you wanna kill them. But eventually it gets to the point where you can’t kill everybody…”

“Well, I believe the sun revolves around the earth, and anyone who disagrees with me, the best they can get in this class is a C.”

After taking a quick poll of the class? “Really, you don’t like parties?…I don’t like parties. Unless there’s free liquor.”

“I like that! Good questions in this class. –Not many, but…”

On supermarket trolleys: “At least you don’t live in Florida. Old people there hit you on purpose! I mean, I know I’m old, but these are really old.”

After half a dozen rants on express lanes in supermarkets: “All my kids tell me to let it go. Nobody’ll go shopping with me anymore…”

“I’ll give you a story, that you will remember ’cause it’s so pathetic.”

“I fed the ducks. I like ducks. If I could be anything else, I’d be a duck.”

On the AARP: “A lot of old people don’t know they’re members. They don’t know they’re paying $10 a year. They don’t even know where they’re driving!”

To demonstrate how useless the job of the US Vice President was, he told a story from when he was a young political aide. He had to get several signatures, one of them being Hubert Humphrey. Most of the signatories had him in and out in a couple of minutes. Humphrey offered him a drink (“Coffee? Diet Coke?”) and ended up talking – about his family, about whatever – for several hours. The VP had absolutely nothing else to do. (How far we’ve come…)

They basically Saran-wrapped my head while the streaks were being bleached.

This was the fifth salon I tried, asking if they could turn my hair green. When the stylist here said “Why green?” and I said “Solidarity with the people of Iran,” she high-fived me.

And it pretty much turned out blue anyway.

Oh well. Call it preparation for a Sailor Mercury cosplay.