The Journey to Summer

Two days into my brief summer, my body has not, and will never, adjusted to the tenacious heat or the humidity. Words such as uncomfortable, overwhelming, sweltering, and the like, cannot possibly hope to describe what it feels like to walk through the hell known as summer in Japan. It's like a living in a sauna, steam rising from your pores as sweat cascades into your clothing. And what could be worse than the "Trying to work up a sweat" old men crowding the saunas of the world, you ask? The Japanese people crowding your every possible line of sight, wearing pants, jackets, hats, leggings, and any other article of clothing that would cause me to perish if i were to even get too close. And to make things worse, hardly anybody seems to have broken a sweat. There I am drowning in my own filth, watching Japanese person after person comfortably stroll by in layers of clothing, without a single bead of sweat to be seen. 

Three days ago marked the genesis of my travel chaos. Nearly two days of nonstop hassle caused by the inability to check in until 3 hours prior to my flight, culminated when some unknown barbarian threw  my travel companion (Ashland Co-op water bottle) in a toilet full of pee. I spent nearly eight hours waiting in Christchurch, before flying up to Auckland where a 10.5 hour layover awaited me. (In the midst of which my bottle was violated in the worst way) After a hectic check in I was finally able to board the 777 bound for Japan. Exhausted from countless hours attempting to sleep on a bench bathed in the golden glow of the MacDonald's arches, I allowed myself to be herded down the floating tunnel into the bowels of the aircraft.  

In all honesty, after a miserable experience in the airports of New Zealand, the flight to Japan with Air New Zealand was a thing of beauty. An incredible movie selection, touch screens, games, and reasonably comfortable seats. Even the food was palatable. Being airplane food, my expectations for it were rather low, yet I'm happy to say that I was pleasantly surprised. 

So here I am, sitting at my computer trying not to drip sweat on the keyboard, anticipating a busy yet very exciting two weeks of visiting friends and family. 

Welcome to hour upon hour of waiting to sit for another 10 hours...

down, up, up, straight up.

Where's Wall-do?

Still dark, the airport begins to stir...

" 'scuse me" - As i stick my elbow in my neighbors face to take some photos.

Gigi taking the shopping home

World of White

Winter. All signs indicated it was receding, giving way to spring. Days were getting significantly warmer, only the distant peaks were carpeted with snow, and the occasional sand fly came out of hiding to bite the unsuspecting passerby. With nary a hint of rain for over a week, I recurrently walked the dry gravel path back to my room.

Waking up I could sense an uncharacteristic calm had enclosed the world around me. Dubiously parting the curtains, I was once again shocked by the scenery before me.

The clouds had unleashed a sudden blizzard on the entire country. Far more snow than the previous falls combined, had been dumped on us overnight.

Standing in the forest, all sounds are muffled; overhead, snow-clad branches mist frost, wetting my lens.

The snow still falls.

The ground gets deeper by the hour.

Sunset from my bed

Overnight

Serene Forest

Definite Moment in the Doorway

Moving On

School Holidays are a funny thing. Until recently they provided an escape from an incessant workload, and a seemingly necessary lapse in attentiveness, and devotion. Not that I had much of either. The former however, always applied. Unfortunately, working at a place where other people go to escape means I get particularly busy during the school holidays. A sudden winter holiday coupled with an unusual work schedule resulted in a long few weeks. After missing my days off assisting in the kitchen, I was once again craving a trip out of the mountains.

A nearly sickening decent through the winding hills was only bearable due to the magnificently blue skies. It seems like an eternity since the last time I saw an unclouded sky. A few hours later, I was unloaded onto the streets of Christchurch. Strangely enough, there was more snow there than in the mountains. The bus stop was only a few blocks from the city center. I hadn’t been back there since my first trip, days before the earthquake. Aside from the demolition and construction teams (from what I could see there isn’t much of a difference) nobody has been allowed in since.

The largest buildings I’ve seen on the south island were deserted. A ghost town of infrastructure slowly being torn apart is an eerie sight indeed. Sitting on a bench along the Avon River I watch as a building is gradually demolished. Months ago I sat on this same bench, watching busy cafés, people shopping, and ducks in the river. All I could see now was abandoned businesses, a desolate scene covered in settled dust. An ominous air hangs over the city center.

So what do I do? I walk into the casino to my left, take my winnings and go see Harry Potter. It may seem insensitive, but it’s what needed to be done. I’m in town to enjoy civilization, not reflect on dark times. Moving on may be difficult for some, but it’s what’s best. Though it’s certainly taking an inordinately long period of time, it’s what the demolition crews are doing. It’s what the people of Christchurch are doing. Talking to countless people who lost their home, their business, and life as they knew it, not a single person grieved about their situation.
They simply stood by each other to face whatever was to come. 

Officially Winter

One week into July, 6 am, and the sun has yet to rise. Walking outside for fresh air yields a familiar site; a wet, bitter morning. Back inside to brush my teeth and wash my face.  Minutes later as I’m stepping back across the foyer to my room, there is a glimmer in my peripheral. What was dank and cold only moments before was suddenly veiled in a pale blanket of snow.

Snow in July, what a bizarre concept. 

Fingers crossed for a white birthday...

 Up to the kitchen

Down to the river

 On the river

Sunrise 

Bye Bye Cabin Fever.... for now....

Nearly two months of cabin fever finally came to an end yesterday when “Nicholas Keiji” and I once again took a day trip to the recently ravaged city of Christchurch. Unseasonably clear skies made for a pleasant drive and as a bonus, we didn’t listen to Simon and Garfunkel the entire drive, as we did during the previous journey. Driving into the city one would never imagine it recently fell victim to yet another earthquake. Aside from the muck piled in gutters from all the liquefaction, few buildings displayed prominent damage. Upon closer inspection however, one notices cracks, missing bricks, and the occasional slightly askew household.

After a quick lunch of Korean noodles, Nicholas and I split ways so he could attend his ballet lessons. The city centre still being closed since the February quake, I made my way to the Riccarton area. After a couple months out of civilization, I figured I was due for a bit of shopping. A replacement backpack and a few articles of clothing later, I was nearly five hours from meeting up with my ride. It had been quite some time since my last beer so I went on the hunt for a suitable place to enjoy my book and a couple tall ones. I came across the Fox and Ferret. An enjoyable atmosphere, and a heated patio where I could watch the sunset, and read short stories from Murakami’s “The Elephant Vanishes.” Shortly after stocking up on some ibooks through their wifi, I heard a pleasantly familiar American accent at the neighboring table. Turns out he was from northern California, working and traveling around NZ. A few hours, a few laughs and few too many pints later it was time to meet Nicholas Keiji and head back up into the isolation known as the Maruia Springs.

A recent trip up the mountain

Maruia from above

Maruia in the distance

 Road through the mountains

 On the way to Chch

Just My Luck...

Since I arrived at Maruia Springs, Chef Peter has had only a single day off. And that was only because his car broke down on a day trip to Christchurch. That day we simpy closed the European side of the menu. In serious need of a break (and in order to pick up his car) Pete took the entire day off and headed for Christchurch, leaving me in charge. I felt like a child being left home alone for the first time. Though I’ve plated every dish many times, I’d never actually cooked anything on the European menu. Pete however was confident I could manage, and after doing all the necessary prep work, left me to it.

Wednesdays are pretty slow nights, but regardless, I was nervous. I readied by mise-en-place like I’d seen Pete do countless times and fired up the burners, oven, salamander, and fryer. As everything fell into place my confidence levels gradually rose.

Last order came in and I’d managed to stay afloat. Lamb, salmon, steak, I got it all out on time.  Cleaning up and thinking back on the night’s service, I had a surprising revelation. I’d never cooked lamb before!  Those couple lambs that went out were trial chops. It was then the waitress came back to tell me the last order just happened to be one of the wealthiest people in NZ. My second attempt at cooking lamb was just served to the founder of the NZ equivalent to Craigslist / Ebay… My heart sank. Why tonight? Why did he have to come in tonight of all nights?! During my panic attack the plates came back… empty. What a relieving sight. I can sleep now…

Late into the Morning

Just past three a.m., temperature is gradually falling to the freezing point, and I’m zipped up to the chin, feet on the space heater. Macgyver is on, but I saw this episode a few days ago. Nevertheless I’ll watch that mullet and too-tight jeans escape from Russian soldiers by constructing a hot air balloon out of a parachute, countless blankets, and half a shed. Awesome. Dexter is on next, and Hot Fuzz after that. You may ask yourself, “Why does he have a list of things to watch at 3 in the morning???”

Simple, I have a bit over three hours until the Champions league final; Manchester United v. Barcelona. Thanks to the slight time difference from London, I get to watch it live at 6:30 am. I guess I could have gone to bed and got up early, but there is no way I am taking the chance of sleeping through the alarm. I will see the sunrise, then watch ManU get slaughtered. Ahhhh, it shall be a lovely morning. Then I’ll sleep all day! No kitchen duties for me!!

Barcelona shall reign supreme!!!

 

3 a.m. in the mountains

Chibi