October 27

     Waiting for notifications of admissions to Thames Hospital from the Emergency Department.  Started the day with coffee soaked in hot water without additives.  Perfect complement to Vogel's multi-grain toast with coarse peanut butter and award winning orange marmalade.  Cheryl packed extra calories into her yogurt, then had an extra serving.  She seeks a new standard of achievement today by 'tramping' 7 hours with backpack guided by tramping friends.  In her sight bodes one of New Zealand's 'Great Walks'.  Liz Ulenburg arrives Thursday.  The two ladies of the Great Outdoors fly to Queenstown.  Located on the south island of New Zealand,  Queenstown holds the reputation ofthe country's outdoor adventure land.  Significant mountain geography captivate world travelers.  Well maintained hiking (tramping) trials allow access to much of the splendor.  The destination is the 'Routeburn Track' and the companion 'Greenstone'.  After a 4 day walk on the trial, a couple days soaking and spa recovery await them in Queenstown.
   
      After the marmalade toast, the patients on the medical ward received attention.  With the assistance and direction of one of the House Officers, Rachel Johnston, rounds finished by noon.  An elderly Maori gentleman admitted last night occupied a bed in a 4 man room.  He complained of left arm weakness and pain.  During the examination a notable discrepancy in leg size led to another story.  Now 83 years old, he had existed with a significantly deformed right leg since age 2.  At that time (1932) he presented with a paralysis of the leg, which, in retrospect,was polio.  It was decided by the physicians that a surgical approach was indicated and performed.  The judgment to do so is not currently understood.  The surgery took place without the boy's parents being present nor having knowledge of the procedure.  Days later, the Maori father arrived to find his son strapped in an immobilization device and surgeons contemplating an amputation.  The father cut away the straps, grabbed his young son and fled out of the hospital defying the protestations of the medical staff.  Up in the New Zealand bush, a concoction of herbal salves began.  Crutches engineered.  18 months later the young boy literally limped himself eventually into manhood.  Today he expresses no remorse.

     Tom and Cheryl have occupied the house now 10 days.  Roomy and clean, the floor pattern is unique.  Opinions regarding its comforts vary,  but as with all domiciles, the house requires some attention.  At night the house seems to come alive with sounds.  Sounds emanate from places yet to be identified.  The wind off the Firth of Thames adds to the cacophony of whistling and clanging.  Large multiple windows contribute to the large thermal fluctuations of the fluctuating Thames Spring climate. The Blonde Woman cannot find enough clothes in the morning nor evening to stay warm.  Fortunately she rarely stops moving until retiring for the day.
     Descriptors of the house may require an entire chapter.  Bits at a time will be discussed and may be more tolerable to read.  Anyway, the couple have arrived.  They have a home without glow worms on the ceiling, a car, a job, and an expanding circle of friends.  The cache of stories expand.

      Yesterday, a road trip to Auckland had them back in the Toyota hatchback.  The 'Tall Ships' had sailed into the harbor the previous day and moored in the downtown piers.  An opportunity to gaze into maritime history could not be neglected.  Bright skies, warm temperatures,and a good collection of New Zealanders were found.  Cheryl, once again, found a fascinating story belonging to a Canadian woman married to the captain and co-owner of the 'Picton Castle'.  A barque sailing vessel, the Picton Castle is 180 feet in length with 3 masts and multiple sails.  It has sailed the world several times and hails from Nova Scotia, spends most of its time in the southern hemisphere.  After chatting with the captain's wife for a considerable time, an invitation was fortunately not extended to sail away.

A Second Digression

"Wagdood!  I'm sending you to Hamilton.  You're starting to act like some care-free fool.  Need to see some degree of responsibility from you...that's why you are here!" Odysseus has a direct manner of speech, again in a tragic sort of way.  Since arriving in New Zealand, Wagdood had been running around the bush, attending to geographic land formations, admiring flora and fauna, and kissing his wife on occasion.  Although Odysseus sensed the NZ epic would recreate Wagdood, the metamorphosis could not occur this soon.  Wagdood's lot remained work, not play.

"Hamilton has a fine hospital.  You get back to being what you do.  Go learn the ways of the Commonwealth medicine.  Get serious.  Take those hiking boots off.  Take the Blonde Woman with you, again.  Penelope and I need some alone time.  I need space, some quiet...that Blonde Woman talks to everybody.  And, by the way, what's your first name?"  Odysseus implored.

"Tom"

"Oh.....too bad.  Guess it fits your bland nature.  Well, go to Hamilton, Wagdood.  There's a room for the next four nights.  Try to come back to reality---you're easier to handle.  Less antagonistic.  Less independent.  Less smiley."

Off to Hamilton, NZ they went.  Following the map and driving through scenic country their senses could not process fast enough,  they arrived in little more than 90 minutes.

Hamilton, a small city of about 150,000 people.  It serves as the tertiary health care center for the region.  No other hospitals in the city.  The region included the town of Thames.  The doctor met several new colleagues and received his indoctrination into New Zealand health care.  Names of medications were different.  Lab data had different units.  Charting different.  Rounding different.  People suffering appeared the same.  He figured the suffering as the commonality in his experience and begin from that point.

Work days were relatively short leaving 'non-work' time.  The Blonde Woman ran non-work interference setting out for the Hamilton gardens, the art and history museums, and most importantly paid homage to the statue of Riff-Raff.  Riff-Raff, lead character in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, is the creation of Richard O'Brien, native of Hamilton.  The two explorers felt their knees shake, rattle and roll at the monument.  Careful not to approach too closely for fear they would be left in their under ware doing the ' Time Warp ', the two sought new eating establishments.  A festive micro-brewery, an Indian and a Turkish restaurant sufficed.  The beer was good at the brewery.  The beer at the Turkish place seemed to be cross between Grain Belt in bottle and Grain Belt in cans.  The food, served in phallic shaped dish met expectations.

Without rules from Odysseus, but simply guidelines they continues some degree of exploration with a touch of frivolity.  Then, they returned to their room.....  

Initial Travels 2.0

The Bush.

The doctor and the blonde woman began to feel the need to learn to live in the Bush.  Preparations had been made to experience the area from home in Sioux Falls.  The idea of roaming through the bush for much of the early portion of the adventure had not occurred to them.  Living out of the Corolla was not easy.  The home in Thames was not yet ready.  The bush was there.
     Guidance to explore the region was assisted by the Thames Tramping Club, isolated recommendations by local Kiwi's and enthusiastic trampers.  The region formerly can to existence by virtue of gold.  Mines intertwine the hills and small mountains of the Coromandel Peninsula.  Merv, the Tramper, is a70-75 year old native New Zealander and former engineer, present naturalist, potential OLLI speaker, and archetypical Boy Scout leader.  He is surrounded by a band of environmentalists and retired exercise practitioners.  Everyones calves were large no matter the shape of the rest of their bodies.  All climb. Quickly.  Trying to keep up, the doctor wore his  light weight green bush pants accented with wool socks.

The gold mines were entered.  Large spider-cockroach appearing insects met us at the entrance.  Fluorescent green glow worms hung from the ceilings of the caves.  Water seeped into many parts of the mines resulting in a musty smell. We followed Merv's instructions to the detail.  By habit, the Blonde Woman looked for her car keys.  She knew they were somewhere.  Torches(flash lights) allowed them to grope down the caverns.  Gold nuggets were left behind in a large pile to bring home.  They did grab a couple chunks of quartzite to study the crystalline structure and talk euclidian geometry later that night.

Lunch usually consists of some form of Vogel's bread sandwich.  P & J in this particular instance.  The Blonde Woman somehow snuck some chocolate tidbits along.  Happiness can be as simple as finding one of those
nuggets in the bottom of the backpack.

Enquires were made to see if a cave could be rented for a short period.  We returned to Thames under the direction of Merv and the Trampers.

Two other sorties have been made into the bush,  each yielding some nugget.  Mostly beauty,  added friendships, and better toned calves.  The blonde women has joined a walk and talk group meeting Thursdays.  Merv and the Tramping group meet every other Sunday.  Activities begin to jam the schedule.  Knitting group, bicycle group,  book group have made the Blonde Woman's docket.  She gained momentum when the Public Library in Thames granted her a license to check out books.  During conversation, two outgoing
Thamian women dared to encounter her.  They both flashed social cards.
The Blonde Woman could not match the social
card, but struck a chord with them and two more
friends made.

Initial Travels

October 7                                                                                                                                                                        
Left Joe Foss International Airport with Liz Ulenburg at our side guiding us to Auckland.  Liz has plans for Cheryl once they arrive in New Zealand, but Tom stays out.  He will work.  Liz introduces us to New Zealand Airline lounge and libations.  13 hours to Auckland.  Taxi to the Amora Hotel in Auckland and slept 13-14 hours.  By the time we woke it was October 10 and Dennis Trebilcock met us with our car, a 2009 Toyota Corolla Hatchback.  We stuffed four 50 pound bags, backpacks, and one carry-on item in the car with Cheryl in the backseat, Tom in the front and Dennis driving.  Stopped at the licensing bureau to present my papers which consisted of a lady working out of her home.  We were early.  She was in her bathrobe and required time to tidy up.  I passed.  I mean I had the right credentials.  I mean I had all my papers in order.  90 minutes later we were in Thames.  Dennis filled us in on the countryside, the driving, the virtue of free range eggs.  He and his wife operate a bed and breakfast spot in Thames, and he certainly left us with our first taste of Kiwi friendship.

Once Dennis left us at the hospital,  Tom climbed into the driver's seat with his American driver's license and drove down the Left side with his left sided car.  Everyone else had the same type, so he just followed someone.  Over the next several days he came to reach an agreement with the machine.   Cheryl did not step into the driver's seat for several days.  She has yet to meet an agreement with the car, the roads, or the rules of New Zealand driving.  Gas is $2.00-2.10/liter.  The stations require declaration of the amount when one fills.  $30 gave the travelers  about 1/3 of a tank.

Another Liz and another Tom are the proprietors of the Coastal Motorlodge, our first home in Thames.  The home intended for us was being "readied", and not available.  We grunted our life's possessions into one of their rooms and spent 4 nights adjusting to the location.  Tom, the owner, had moved his wife, Liz, to Thames a couple years ago and bought the lodge.  He originates in New Orleans.  Spring flowers  bloomed all over.  Liz baked an apple cake and delivered a good bit of it to us.  The cake blended right in with the cheese, peanuts, apples, and 'Porters Pure Ceylon' tea, Sri Lanka's finest served with manuka honey.  For $25 an ounce, we will protect ourselves from indigestion, crud, lamentations, and listlessness.  High profile bees responding to specific NZ flora conjure up this magic stuff.  It has the consistency of Karo syrup and the color of used motor oil.  If diluted well enough, the traveler's constitutions should be in top form.


The flora is most impressive in Thames.  Multiple gardens, well manicured, with scores of flowering plants adorn the town.   The country side is most impressive as well.  This picture of the Coastal Motorlodge shows a small example.  We based are activities from this spot.  Hopefully the impressive burst of Spring's life indicates good things to come.                                                                            

First Attempt

October 20

Freeze dried coffee prepared through a French press coffee maker starts the day as the morning light finds the kitchen window.  The Blonde Woman consumes half a grapefruit obtained off the tree in the backyard.  She peruses the internet.  Small oranges, also from the backyard tree, supplement her breakfast as she prepares for another tramp[hike] in the region.  She maintains her usual level of "in the moment" energy with ongoing plans to prepare, carry out, and savor the day.  Her nesting instincts have required frequent trips to the single grocery store, the Warehouse[local small Walmart], and the recently discovered Saturday morning farmer's market.   Problem has occurred with her matriculation of left sided driving skills, so continued surveillance has been necessary.  Backing out of the driveway becomes worrisome as a pole sits in midpoint of a double driveway shared with the next door neighbor.  Negotiating the rotary turns remains impossible.  She is a fixture in her husband's passenger seat, unless her shoes dictate where she goes.

Tomorrow the doctor assumes independent responsibility for in-patient care.  After nearly 35 years of American medicine, he jumped to the Commonwealth system.  Can he adjust?  He looks to his 61st birthday in a couple months. Moves slower, thinks slower, acclimates slower, urinates slower.  Just the same, he takes on toilets that require a decision to flush with the big gush or the little gush.  His judgement remains solid.

How did these two end up in New Zealand?  What is to become of a couple of upper middle agers past their prime?

A Digression.

"Hello, Dr. Wagdood here."  The doctor answered another phone call sitting at his comfortable desk in his comfortable chair late in the day.  After 5-6 cups of coffee to keep the day rolling, he was anxious to  get home and sit in his comfortable chair with a comfortable book and dodge the lists and domestic requests in an artful fashion.  At the time he was approaching 60.  His career had been meaningful, satisfying, and filled with connections to insightful, creative people.  Now he was beginning to feel that the days of adrenaline filled situations were toasting the edges of his comfort.  Then the call came.

"Wagdood!  Odysseus here!"  Came an unfamiliar voice with a bit of a tragic accent.  "We are going to New Zealand to stir up some action.  I demand you come with me!  Penelope and I have yet to reach our full potential, even after 3000 years.  You know Penelope has been a good and faithful wife during all those years and we never travelled 'down under'.  We are looking for new stuff.  Taste new food.  Hear new stories.  See beauty.

"Whoa!  What's this all about?  Why me?"

A moment passed on the phone.  A nurse passed by Wagdood's office looking like a problem was brewing.  Then the reply from Odysseus, "You are a practical chap... but, you are becoming pretty boring.  Penelope and I will need someone to help keep a steady hand on the rudder.  You know...clean up the parting mess;  drive us home when we need it;  look after us in a responsible, comfortable way."

"Excuse me!"

"Sorry Wagdood.  It's true.  Look at yourself.  You've reached your full potential.  Where are you going?" And then the most scathing criticism from Odysseus..." What else are you made of?"

Odysseus hit a nerve.  Wagdood knew it.  

Odysseus then completed his tragic psychological bashing with a bit of comedy, "Grab that Blonde Woman of yours and let's go!"

So, that's how it started.  An invitation from a legendary explorer desirous to see and do new things because it may simply make him better.  Or not.  And the doctor along for the ride to mediate, compromise, mollify and experience the life down under.  A peek under the equator.