Wooohooo Rugby

The other day, after becoming a newly-minted rugby fan in the span of a few beers and an hour of RugbyTV, I stated that I would like to play rugby. Soon after this, I remembered that I am in the weight class of many 13 year old girls and just witnessed three grown Welsh men get knocked out in the time it took me to sit on a couch and casually drink three beers. But either way, the rugby season has just started here in NZ and we have now amended our trip plans to include at least one match in person as well as pub stops for matches on TV. In a country that loves rugby, this is a surefire way to make easy friends.

Upon leaving Auckland, we headed east, traveled around the Coromandel peninsula and south along the eastern coastline. So far, we have come to the realization that it is summer, we are on an island, and the waves are awesome. Boogy boards and a skim board have been added to our already cluttered van.

In the beach town of Whangamata, we spent the evening sitting around watching rugby in our hostel with a middle-aged and eccentric crowd of Europeans. This was our first hostel of the trip and we discovered that they can be amusing places. Later, we proceeded to the Whangamata pubs where we formed a karaoke team and by the end of the night we discovered that talking to Kiwis in bars can result in accidentally talking like one.

Our Auckland friends who so graciously fed 3 starving boys and let us stay in their home while we got organized, also pointed us in the direction of their friends, Will and Anne. We arrived yesterday afternoon to their beautiful rural farm outside the town of Te Puke. The farm contains a few horses, 1,000 milk cows, and a four wheeler for us to amuse ourselves with. The rolling hills stretch back to a small spring-fed stream and thick jungle-like forest with palms, ferns, and one too many spiky plants. The big rock walls shrouded by forest contain ancient Maori paintings. In our first attempt at fishing, stumbling through brush, getting caught on thorns, and untangling fly lines was about all we accomplished. Unless you count that whopping three inch trout.

Last night our new friends and hosts taught us the useful trick of popping off the top of a beer bottle with another beer bottle. As we struggled to do it, Will made it look easy with his years of experience. We sat outside on their deck overlooking the spacious New Zealand farmland as our hosts polished off their fair share of wine and kept up a supply of Heineken for us. Tonight looks to be promising as well

After that, we will be clunking along to the next town, Big Jolly’s front shocks bottoming out every so often, sunroof open, weighed down by luggage, and winding over some mountains.