Daniel Cann

We met an unusual character at the hostel called James. He was a gregarious and witty individual, from Edinburgh originally, he had moved to Helston in Cornwall (quite a distance from his original home) and said that he ‘liked to wander around’ Well, he could not have wandered further than New Zealand! He was a biker and was travelling the world on a battered motorbike. He had plenty of tales and a great sense of humour. I suddenly felt a bit phoney calling myself a traveller as I had been on safe coach tours while he was seeing the world from the seat of a motorbike: hardcore.

After freshening up Ben and I stretched our legs and walked to the New Zealand Maori Arts and Crafts Institute which incorporated the Whakarewarewa Thermal Reserve. It was fantastic to learn more about the Maori culture and way of life as well as walking around sulphurous rocks, geysers and waterfalls as steam and smoke swirled around you. This was another side of New Zealand and Ben and I both enjoyed this direct contrast after doing the typical twentysomething Kiwi Experience Tour.

Torrential rain greeted us the next morning, the first we had experienced in weeks. We were so lucky to see the Thermal Reserve the previous day as today would have been difficult or next to impossible. The bus journey to our final destination in New Zealand was pleasant and uneventful apart from being informed by our bus driver that the ‘One Tree Hill’ from the U2 song was ‘on our right.’

After disembarking we realized that the Kiwi experience was now over for us. We had a basic and inspired meal of noodles and steak at the decidedly average hostel. It was all a bit of a come down after seeing geysers, whales, mountains and glaciers! I had never seen so much beauty in such a small space before. The people we had met on our travels in New Zealand were generally friendly and diverse, there were certainly more travellers here than I had previously imagined. Suddenly our grand ‘World Trip’ seemed to be the ‘in thing’ to do and we were merely riding along on the latest fad instead of the intrepid explorers of our naďve imaginations!

Our final day in New Zealand saw us walking around the city in a ‘killing time’ way rather than actually sight seeing. We went to the Albert Park and the Quay. Auckland seemed a clean, prosperous city, but like any other really. Our minds were increasingly turning to the prospect of travelling to America.

At 10.50pm that evening we took off on a flight full of homeward bound Americans. Ben and I felt swamped by an entire new culture. From the quiet reserve of the Kiwi’s (apart from when they were drunk) we were surrounded by loud, brash, confident Americans who knew exactly what they wanted. Ben grinned at me mischievously and I grinned back. It was different!

Our journey was a strange one as we would pass the international dateline so there were would be two twenty third’s of March for us! After landing and going through customs which was a bit like being in a Franz Kafka novel or a police state we made it pretty much unscathed into the departure lounge of LAX. Now all we had to do was look out for a man we had never met before!

Eventually Karen’s brother, Dave arrived. He was tall like Karen with a handlebar moustache (unlike Karen I hasten to add!) Considering that the two dishevelled much shorter Englishmen carrying backpacks that greeted him he was very friendly and welcoming towards the both of us. All I can say is that I must have made a good impression on Karen! Once all our gear was put in the boot of Dave’s impressive four-wheel drive jeep he took us on an impromptu tour of LA. I took to Dave almost immediately, he was very laid back in that typical South Californian way. He talked slowly and deliberately and always had a twinkle in his eye and a quick sense of humour that would catch you out if you were not careful. On several occasions I was a victim of his deadpanning over the course of the next few days.

From the tinted glass view of the four-wheel drive we saw Griffith Park, the huge white Hollywood sign on the hill, Sunset Boulevard, Wilshire Boulevard, Melrose Avenue, Rodeo Drive and countless other places that we had seen in films. This time we were seeing it for real. Dave explained that LA is no longer in its ‘Golden Age’ and conceded that parts of it had become a little seedy. We must have looked concerned as Dave laughed ‘Hey, its not that bad! Just keep your eyes open!’

Monrovia, the suburb where Dave and his family lived, was, by contrast, beautiful, quiet, leafy suburbia. His house was fantastic. We were introduced to his wife Judy and their young three sons Jake, Elwood and Max. Dave and Judy made us feel very welcome which we greatly appreciated. After a Mexican meal Dave talked to us about America and Mexico and gave us plenty of pointers. He promised to drop us off at Santa Monica the next day and take us fishing sometime as well. We went to bed very early that night; all the travelling in New Zealand and the flight had finally taken its toll. We were very lucky to have landed on our feet again.