The most commen thing you hear as you stroll down the sidewalk is "Hello taxi, transport" and you politely respond "No thanks" and in turn the guys says "Yes, tomorrow taxi, cheap cheap". It gets old very fast but it could be worse.

The women, as well as the men, are employed in construction and its truely amazing to see the loads of dirt and concrete that they carry on their heads. Just the muscle work needed to balance such a load seems unreal but to know they do this all day its humbling.

Most merchants are less aggressive here and will welcome you into their shop even if you just want to browse. Still, as soon as you ask the price of something you'd better really want it becuase that signals the opening of trade.

We've been quite sucessful in our haggling and typically are paying half but sometimes a quarter of the quoted price. Much of our luck is due to the fact that its the low season. For instance this morning we purchased a patchwork quilt for about $14US. At home a similar quilt I'm sure would run in the hundreds of dollars. The women was happy though becuase that was her first sale in a week.

There are a few beggers here and they are always a women with an infant and a toddler. They are very dirty and sad looking and its hard to pass without feeling very guilty. Apart from that, the Balinese people look very healthy, happy, clean and prosperous.

Dress is modest by our standards and many shop owners, men or women, wear sarongs and long shirts. Its just as common to see a man walking down the street in long shorts a t-shirt and flip flops as it is wearing a traditional sarong, shirt and hat.

The shops vary in apperance and size. Most are smallish and very similar to small shops at home. Some are large galleries and cater to the wealthy travelers, while some are very small recesses in a larger buildings. The best prices are found at the smallest shops and market place. That being said, there is no or very little difference in merchandise from the galleries to the small shopping carts, its all the same stuff.

All around are temples, from small temples within the compound of a family property to large public temples. The large temples are typically a coumpound with several thatch roofed, open air structures, and are brick with the supporting columns being intricatly carved stone. The carvings are of varies incarnations of the supreme god.

Although they are Hindu, the Indonesian Laws state that all religions must be monotheistic which possed a problem. The Hindu leaders conveniened and agreed that although they had many gods they are actually all just incarnation of the one supreme god and this was acceptable by the Indonesian government.

There are statues of gods all over the place and they are always clothed in a sarong and usually have a fragapani or hybiscus flower tucked in their ear. It gives the impression that the statues are alive which is such a contrast to our statues which so often look dead.

Offerings are given up to the gods twice a day in the form of small palm trays about 3" square filled with some rice, incense, maybe a cracker or a cigarette, and splashed with holy water.

I like watching the women as they place the offering. It seems like a very peaceful occasion. They place the offering, and calmly dip a frangiapani flower in a cup of holy water, and wave the wet flower over the offering.

The offerings are placed all over, not just at the temples, such as on street corners, in front of statues along the street, infront of your bungalow, on mepeds, cars and buses, basically everywhere. The burning incense helps to mask the odor of sewage in some areas so it has the two fold effect of air freshener and offering.

For all the beauty, there is a certain amount of dirtyness that is surprising to me. I find it impossible to drop even the smallest piece of paper on the sidewalk. I'll put it in my pocket until I see a garbage can. However, the people here are much less concerned. You can see massive trash heaps behind many buildings and especially near gullies and rivers. Piles and piles of plastic bags, food waste, paper, newsprint, and the daily refuse of life.

In addition, the drainage system is mearly a channel capped by removable concrete blocks that comprise the sidewalk. In many places the blocks have broken and are not present giving you a glimpse of the sewage water. The channel not only contains sewage but further refush, plasic, cups, and more.

This is such a huge contrast between Samoa, where cleanliness and sanitation was a very high priority. There, they recognized that their environment was the sole source for the economny. Although not as touristy as other Polynesian islands, Samoans new that attracting tourist was a great way to earn money and they were quick to point out how clean it was.

Bali on the other has no doubt suffered as a consequence of the pollution. I saw very few, if any, sea birds during our 4 days along the coast and the water looked very dirty. The tide line was littered with old flip flops, bottle tops, bottls, styrofoam and all sorts of other garbage. We went snorkling and found the reef to be extremely damaged but still there was many small colorful fish, nothing big though.

While we were in Darwin, we saw tens of Indonesian fishing boats impounded by the Australian Navy. At present there is extensive poaching by Indonesian fisherman in Australian waters and they are equiped with modern gps units and sophisticated inter-boat communications. One article quote an Indonesian fisherman when asked what he though about his boat being impounded, his response was [I don't care, it wasn't my boat, the Chinese own the boats, we just make them and fish them. We'll just go home, make more boats to sell to the Chines and go fishing again]. The coast of Indonesia is about 200 miles from Australia (I think) so its clear that their fishery is pretty exausted if they are traveling that distance to fish. Many of the impounded fishing boats were found with shark fins and other highly valued but endangered fish.

Even off Bali, I was astounded at the number of boats fishing. They leave port around 4 pm and return around 4 am. At night the lights from the boats give the appearance that there is a floating city just a couple miles off shore.

In addition to the fisheries, its obvious that the timber trade is huge here. On the outskirts of Kuta we saw countess furniture manufactures with massive pieces of timber stacked in the front. From huge root structures of rainforest trees to hunks of wood that could only have come from absolutely massive trees.

Most of the wood being felled is shiped in raw form Japan and China (in order of quantity), where it is made into furniture, paper and building material, in other words the value added is not in Indonesia thereby preventing Indonesians from truely reaping the benefits. What we saw being used domestically was just a small portion of the whole.

Anyhow, tomorrow we are heading to Sanur, back down south, and we'll be off to Thailand on Wednesday provided that we can get our ticket changed. It will be sad leaving Ubud, we both really like it here. The weather is perfect, the people are wonderful, and we'll miss it.

xoxo

ps: Thanks for all the birthday messages!

Tomorrow we're going to take a walk down the main street to the Monkey forest, which as the name suggests, is enhabited by loads of monkeys.

We're staying in a very nice and very clean bungalow, and at $15US per night, its a bargan. There seems to be lots to do so I'm going to sign off and get busy.

Don't forget Kate's birthday tomorrow!

For the first three days, we stayed in Krabokan, just outside Kuta where all the tourists stay. Krabokan was quietish and the hotel we stayed in was gorgeous. The only draw back was that we were the sole occupants and there for had a cadre of staff waiting on us beck and call. Now that may sound nice but honestly, you step out of your room and the music stops, people snap to attention, people formerly playing pool scatter, and they rush into action with small talk and offers for tours, more coffee, more this, more that. They were great but we're just not used to that kind of service. Its smothering. How about this, you just bring me my food today, and I eat it peace and quite and you just do what ever you want to. I hate making people go out of their way for me. I guess thats a bad attitude, one I'll have to get over.

While in the greater Kuta area, we did a lot of window shopping. Anything you want to decorate a house can be had for cheap there. Its the shipping costs that ultimately bring purchases back to reality. That and the fact that the tropical wood likely will split when brought to temerate climes. Still, a nice teak bed will run you about $300, unless you are a good haggler, but shipping it to the US was about $450, so it seemed impractical.

Also, we walked passed the place where the Bali night club bombing occured. Its just an empty lot fenced off, but across the street they have a memorial to commemorate the dead and its very nice. All around the empty lot is the chaos of street vendors, touts, noisy motor scooters and mopeds, traffic, and people everywhere. Its quite a contrast. Very sad to see though, and the Balinese people seem so sad that it happened and are quite to point out that it was the Muslim Javanese who perputrated the bombing. Balinese are Hindu and seem to me to be a very peaceful, peaceloving and kind people.

Ok, the heat is getting to me so the above post is probably nonsense. I'll try and update again soon.

Sources close to Collins say he is relieved but embarrassed by the hastle and stress he's caused those at home. After sending many email dispatches and postcards to friends and loved ones letting them know of his troubles, the young American traveler, originally from the Boston area, is now flushed and red but extremely happy to be on his way, healthy and fit.

To Sydney, we bid farewell and set off for Victoria's capital, Melboune. Situated on the south coast inside a large protected bay and on the Yarra River, Melbourne has an easy going feel and a skyline that, at first glance, is not unlike Boston's. A hot spot for music and the arts, Melbourne would surley quech my thirst for music and a good session.

Lesson learned? Take your time. Slow down and grow some roots, get a real feel for a place, or at least as real as a humble American tourist can with just a week or two per stop.

So, as the time wore on in Australia, it became odvious to us both that we ought to take the slow approach. While we resigned ourselves to the sad thought of all that we'd miss in WA, we new we'd return to Australia and next time we'd pay proper attention to the barren and exotic west coast.

So, back to Melbourne. We touched down at Melbourne-Avalon airport, a delightfully entertaining 45 mintue bus ride from the city center. The colorful comentary provided by our gem of a coach driver kept us amused and chuckling the whole time.

Although we hadn't paid the extra $5 for our bus tickets, the coach driver in his infinite generosity, dropped us off at the Melbourne Metro YHA instead of the central station where normal ticket holders are supposed to disembark, thus saving us the trouble of navigating the dark and not straight streets of North Melbourne at night.

Hungry, we sought counsel from the receptionist, who advised that we walk several blocks to the hub of North Melbourne. Which we did. We ate at an Italian cafe who's dinning room was set up on the enourmous sidewalk, well most off the dinning room. You could if you were boring and reclusive sit inside. But we were neither, so we ate outside. I had a spicey penne dish which helped clear up the sinus headache that had been pestering me since departing Sydney many hours earlier, and Kate dinned on pasta with creamy somethingeruther sauce.

The refreshingly cool autum air was invigorating and we were compelled to follow up dinner with a few beers at a local pub. Australia, and New Zealand for that matter, are infested with trendy cafe's, and wine bars, catering to endless young people dressed as their favorite cast member from Friends. So for the most part, we, being slovenly dressed and instantly recognizable as "backpackers", felt somewhat out of place in these establishments. However, it was with great relief that we stumbled upon a unique and rather eccentric bar called The Town Hall.

Seeing its rock and roll motife, as well as a crowd of people sipping cheap Aussie beer, dressed in second hands and clearly not impersonating Chandler, Ross or Monica, we new found a home for the night. Inidentally, its worth noting that I had to do a Google search in order to find out the names of the characters from Friends. Am I wierd?

We cozied up to the bar just as preparations were being made for the nights main event, Sumo! The MC, a long haired, former rocker, who had thick lensed glasses, a way too small red Van Halen shirt, and a look that says "I can play every AC/DC song and you can't so fuck off", had made several announcements instructing patrons to ready their Sumo teams, let him know the team names and so on.

I, becuase I'm instantly reclusive when it comes to strange Japanese derived games in strange rock 'n roll bars, and becuase of a fear that I'd have to don one of those Sumo suits that make the average skinny guy look like an 800 pound Sumo legend, dismissed this game and continued staring into my half empty pint of Carlton. (Kate was in the bathroom so I couldn't stare at her.)

However, I noticed 8 1/2 by 11 sheets of paper circulating the room, so I was compelled to ask the couple next to us what the game was all about. They showed me the paper, which had 8 sets of Sumo matches showing each opponent in their grandure as well as their records and a brief bio, and expained that during each round, the MC would ask each team to chose which guy would win, making their choice know by shouting the impossibly hard to prounce name of their champion.

It went something like this:

"TEAM PJ'S?", the MC would shout, and we'd respond desparately encumbered by our American accents and the difficult to pronounce names, "WE'LL TAKE HA..HASH..HASHI..MOTORI..OTO, HASHIMO..TORIOTO." and he'd respond "WHAT?", and we'd say "HASHIMO..MOTORIOTO", and he'd say "WHAT?" and we'd finally say "The Fat Guy" and he'd say "OK". The matches would pitt one hugely obiese guy against an ever so slightly less obiese opponent so it became sufficient to just shout, "THE FAT GUY", rather than Hashimotorioto, or Itaroichinoko, you get the point.

After each team submitted its choice, the match would be displaid on the flat screen tv at the far end of the bar. If you chose correctly, you won a free shot of sake. So naturally I ask the young couple "How much does this affair cost"? They said nothing, and in stunned astonishment I made a bee line to the MC to request a sheet of paper and let him know our team name, the PJ's (after PJ Harvey whos virtous music career we were analyzing before Kate dashed off to the bathroom).

The game boiled down to a fifty fifty chance of drinking free sake. Not bad, not bad at all, unless of course you don't like sake, or Sumo. And, to top it off, the team with the most correct picks won a trophy. Now, for two people, Kate and I, who hadn't won a trophy since being given the "coaches award" in eighth grade for participation in recreational basketball, the thought of being able to suppliment our meager collection with yet another was far too compelling.

To my surprise it was harder to chose the winner than I first imagined. The fattest guy doesn't always win. Who knew?

After the second round, in which we were one for two, we were approached by three guys inquiring about the game. One guy looked like Joey from friends (honestly), and the other two looked Swedish but had Irish accents, maybe the sake was messing with my hearing. We invited them to join us in the game and our team of two instantly became a team of 5.

Noel and Kevin are brothers and are from a town in East Cork called Killa (not some Swedish hamlet as I surmised initially from their appearance) and an electrician and carpenter respectively, and Billy (or Joey) is an Aussie originally from Perth, but who's mom is a Yank from Oregon, and seemed to have a new job everyday. Fate was smilling down upon us that night as they turned out to be mighty specimens of gentlemen, not only by offering to house us in an empty room in their apartment (unbeknownsed to their Italian mafia landloard Joe) but also becuase they took us under their wing and showed us a great time on many nights to follow.

Well, we didn't win the trophy, but wid did manage an honorable mention and after the game we found a table and continued blabering on about the sorts of shit stangers blaber on about when they've had too much sake. In a way, its a good thing we didn't win. The winner, clutching his newbegotton award in a half passed out, sake induced stooper, looked for the world to have been a participant in a real Sumo match, beaten and bruised, sweaty and delerious. Sake is a dangerous thing and shouldn't be freely dispensed.

After the first night in Melbourne we knew we would have a great time. The potential for arts and music, as well as our new found friends assured us that we would have plenty to occupy our time.

Melbourne is a walking city, and we occupied countless days just cruising the city taking in the sites. Highlights include the Victoria Market place, the Melbourned Gaol, the Melbourne Museum and the Dinosaurs from China exhibit, as well as the numberous suburbs, arsty and trendy streets on the outskirts of town, a great music session at The Corkman, and the easey realaxed feel of those living there.

I found the Victoria Market especially captivating. Housed under a vast corregated roof top, the market is home to hundreds of vendors selling everything from fruits, veggies, chickens (live) and beans, to kangaroo pelts, digeridoos, and boomerangs, as well as rip off designer lable t-shirts and pants, to Ugg boots and pro sports team apparell. And for the kids, a huge sellection of pop guns, squirt guns, noisey piss-your-parents-off-and-those-around-you guns, as well as all maner of plastic action figures, dolls, dinos, dingos, darts, and everything in between. In summary, you could buy most anything there and as such it attracted a huge diversity of people.

I could just stroll around the stalls for hours looking at poeple from all corners of the globe, buying and selling, bartering, inspecting, and wandering, just like me! And I did. At any chance I could get I'd make the market part of my rout.

The place brought a smile to my face. Except the time when an old lady stepped on my heals, repeatedly, without saying sorry. She did apologize when I spun in anger and glared (not smiled) at her, which means she new what she was doing. Damn her, I hope her tomotoes and bok choi were rotten.

So, our days were spent wandering the street, and our nights we're either spent eating sushi (Kates new found passion) and reading our books back at the hostle, or going out on the town with the North Melbourne Lads, Kevin, Noel, and Billy.

The nights spent out with those guys were priceless and it would take me hours to relay to you the events. In brief they included, Gay bars, rushing ungrateful French guys and their drugged out lifeless girlfriends to the emergency room, upstaging the local rock 'n roll gigster, being towed around the city at wee hours by a 45 year old mom and her 37 year old sister and a whole host of other such debauchery. And always, I mean always, finishing off the night with the five of us sitting around the kitchen table, listening and playing tunes and singing songs on the guitar and reliving the unbelievable events of the night.

We had a bunch of very relaxed nights with them as well, usually checking out a local band at The Town Hall, followed by some music making of our own back at their apartment.

During our last week in Melbourne I developed a pain in my stomach not unlike that you get when you are too full and have to burp. The pain intensified and started to wake me at night. I put off calling my brother Matt, MD, but Kate insisted and its a good thing too. It sounded to Matt like a case of gallstones, and suggested I stay away from fatty food and alcohol and that I go see a Doctor.

We left Melbourne, I, in a high level of discomfort, and made an appointement to see a physcian as soon as we arrived in Darwin. Dr. Watson came to the same conclusion as Matt and I'm awaiting confirmation of the diagnosis. I'll find out tomorrow after the doctor has time to review the results of the ultra-sound as well as blood tests.

And that is why it was a "galling" experience.

After Fraser Island we were off to Syndey. Our flight got in one Easter morning and from the city we got a ferry over to Manly Beach. The ferry ride was a highlight in itself because I got a great first look at the Sydney Opera House. What an amazing building! So much bigger than I had pictured it. Looking at it for the first time I thought, "Wow, I am really in Australia." Seeing those landmarks that you had previously only seen in pictures is an awesome feeling. Manly was a hub of activity when we got there. I was half expecting it to be dead quiet since it was Easter Sunday, but I couldn't have been more wrong. The beach was packed with people and along the Corso (the main strip with shops etc..) was a big street fair with art and clothes and jewlery. We put our stuff down at the hostel and headed straight for the beach. Easter on the beach was a very novel! We liked Manly so much that we stayed there for about week. Took a surfing lesson, shopped, ate at great restaurants on the water. If I could afford a second home (well, if I could afford a first home...but that's another story) I'd want a beach house in Manly. Oh, and I can't write about Manly and not mention our favorite little coffee shop/restaurant--Candy's. Candy's had the best sausages I have ever had in my whole life. Sorry Jimmie Dean, but there is really no competition!

After Ward and Liz left we stayed in Manly a couple days longer and then headed to the Blue Mountains. After all that sausage I was in serious need of some outdoor activity! The day we left Manly was spectauclar. The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I was thinking this couln't be better weather for the Blue Mountains! I must have jinxed us because it seemed like the second we go off the train in Katomba (Blue Mountains) the weather took a steep downward turn. It rained the entire 3 days we were there. We hiked nonetheless, and day two really wasn't that bad--at least we had a little bit of visibility, but still it was disappointing. But thanks to our roommate at the Blue Mountains YHA, the rainy days and nights were anything but dull! He was a serious weirdo (who's probably reading this right now...). Farted in his sleep (my personal favorite), left a mini boomerang on Andy's bed, left about half the contents of his bag at the hostel when he finally checked out, kicked a leech to death in the corner of our room, and sang us awake in the very early hours of the morning. In retrospect it's humourous, but he made me a bit uneasy.

Back to Sydney a few days later and then we flew to Melbourne where we've been for about a week and a half. This is a really nice city--reminds me a bit of Boston in some ways. Our first night here were found this cool little bar in North Melbourne (where we're staying) called "The Townhall." It's here we discovered an excellent game we are sure to bring home with us. Sumo wrestling! You form a team, get a sheet of paper with sumo wrestlers and their stats on it, and pick who you think will win each match. After all the teams chose their wrestler the match (not sure if match is the technical word in sumo wrestling, but it'll have to work) is played on the big TV in the bar and if your team picked the right guy everyone in the team gets a free shot of saki. The fact that I don't like saki was the only downfall of the game, but maybe I was better off! We also met some great guys on sumo wrestling night and they were nice enough to extend a spare room in their house to us for a couple nights. We've had such a great time with them--so nice to have some friends to hang out with again! We have met some terrific people but since everyone we meet is on the move it's rare to see anyone on a regular basis.

Earlier this week we rented a car for a three days and did a trip along the Great Ocean Road. The weather was perfect and the views were beautiful. Although I must say that it's hard to beat the scenery in New Zealand--after seeing some of those views not too much can compare! We took advantage of the nice weather and did some hikes through the national park and the rainforest. Great time. Now we're back in the city making plans for our next move...

My internet time is running low so I'll end here. Hope everyone is doing well at home! Keep in touch!

xoxo

The Catlins it was. This is the southern most region of the South Island and characterized by wind beaten coastlines and ancient inland podocarp forests. In early pre-European times, this area was used by the Maori moa hunters. Moas are an extinct flightless bird that once roamed New Zealand. Some moa were true giants, standing over 10 feet tall but there were also smaller moa close in size to the kiwi.

The road from TA to the Catlins was not too remarkable however upon reaching the Catlins, we were immediately struck by the ruggedness of this land. Southern and Southwesterly winds carry across the Tasman Sea and smack into the coastline here. As a result, the trees are bent in the direction of the prevailing winds. Their windward faces are bare and sand blasted smooth, while the leeward face contains the sparse folliage.

We took the most scenic route which meant at times we were traveling on dirty "unsealed" roads. This made me nervous, could the little Toyota handle the abuse? Thankfully we came out unscathed apart from the odd paint chip and churned stomach. Our stops included, Gem beach, Waipapa Point, Slope Point, Curio Bay and several other places that I don't know the name.

Gem Beach, as the name might imply, was strewn with semi precious stones and precious stones like diamonds, rubies, emerabls, saphires, etc. We filled two bags to the brim before we decided enough was enough. HAHAHAHA, just kidding. It was however a place we're semi-precious stones such as New Zealand jade, called green stone, garnets, and some other cool rocks could be found. Due to the dynamic wave and current action, the sand it continually turned over and as a result the minerals and gems are freshly exposed on a regular basis. We didn't find much of anything but it was still a nice stop.

Next stop was Waipapa Point. The lighthouse here was erected after the NZ's second worse maritime catastrophe in 1884. The ship Tararua, struck the Otara reef just off shore and 131 of the 151 passengers and crew perrished. It was here that we had an intimate encounter with the sea lions and the kelp. Have a look at the pictures. We were able to get very close to these beasts. The sea lion encounter, we realized afterwords, was very special becuase at the other places that the tour guides advertised as "a great place to see seals and sea lions" one could only just make out the black shapes of these beasts with strong binoculars. So we consider ourselves lucky.

Next stop, Slope Point. Its the southerly most point on the South Island and apart from that and some nice cliffs, there isn't much else to see. That is of course unless your lucky enough to spy a yellow eyed penquin, which, sadly, we did not.

A few more stops and then it was time to find accomodations. This wasn't as easy was we'd hoped but at last we found a tiny cabin at a camp ground which suited our needs just fine. And at the price of $20NZ per night ($10 each), a down right bargain. You can see a picture of this hovel in the gallery, its red and Kate is at the door.

After a nights sleep we awoke and headed off for a beach walk with backs only slightly soar. The cabin was so small that only one person could sleep with their body fully extended (Kate) and one person had to scrunch up as if on a couch. The beds were in an L shape and I got the small one.

The beach walk was terrific, we were the only people around and the bird life seemed not to take notice of us. A highlight of our New Zealand trip awaited us just around the second bend in the beach. There, perched on a rock with its back to the wind, was a penguin. A real live, honest to goodness penguin in the wild. It was immediately evident that the bird was either falling apart or molting as evidenced by the large amount of small feathers strewn about down wind.

Unsure of the proper, repectful thing to do we decided that we'd try to get a little close and as soon as the bird showed signs of concern we'd stop and back away. To our great surprise the bird seemed completely unphased by our approached and would only occasionally glance at us before yawning and shutting its little eyes again. We took this as the bird being comfortable with our presense and quitely we snapped a few pictures. What a treasure. Thanks penguin, I hope your plumage comes back in full :)

So, I'm sure I'm leaving some stuff off (like Gold Beach, a beach strewn with nuggets of gold, Beer Beach, kegs everywhere, Free Money Beach and just down from that Free Gourmet Seafood Beach) but I must move on.

Our next port of call was the small city of Invercargill, which the Lonely Planet suggested we skip. I would disagree with their opinion. Althought the city didn't have too much, and again everything closed at 5pm it was a worthwhile stop, even if just to catch your breath.

We stayed at the Tuatara Lodge, an emaculate backpackers and coincidentally we met up with our good friend Tobi who hiked the Milford Track with us. I'm not sure if I've mentioned him yet. Tobi is from Germany and gentleman through and through. He's hiked all over the world and set a blistering pace on the Milford Track. The last day, he even carried two packs. One guy got a severe cramp and Tobi volunteered to carry his pack for the rest of the day. So while the rest of us were miserable at having to lug the 30 pound pack an inch further, here come Tobi, cheerful as ever with two packs strapped to his body.

Well, such a chance encounter in Invercargill called for a celebration and it was decided we'd meet in the lobby at around 7pm and find a place to have some beers. We went to the southern most "Irish Bar" in the world called something O'Shea's or O'Riley's or O'Something. We all had our fare share and the next morning we were a bit groggy.

Now I've really got to wrap it up since the sun is shinning, the surf is up, Kate, Ward and Liz are taking a surf lesson and I've been in the i-cafe for over 2 hours.

Here goes the rest of our New Zealand tour in brief. From Invercargill we headed north to Dunedin. Dunedin is Edinbourgh in Gealic and much of the south of the South Island was settled by Scotish. Dunedin's city center is guarded by a statue of the great Scotish author Robert Burns and the city itself seems quite proud of their Scotish roots. Despite this, I found very little similarity between Dunedin and Edinbourgh. It was a great city though, a college town and our accomodations were top notch. We did the Speights Brewery tour and went to both the Otago museum where we were blown away by the giant moa skeletons, and the art museum. I also saw my first session there and it wasn't half bad.

After 4 days in Dunedin we headed north to Christchurch, stopping only at an agriculture/country fair. It was very interested, and the animals, all primped for the show, were amazing. The winning live stock were paraded around the field, lead by a great pipe band.

Next, Christchurch. This place was dominated by our experience at the Backpackers car market. The other noteworthy experience was the terrific session I played in at O'Sullivans with Brendym Montgomery and Lorcan Bolster. They were two great muscians and I was honored that they welcomed me into the session so warmly. Brendyn has an MA in traditional music from UC Limmerick (I think it was Limmerick) and was a mean flute player.

Our little 2 bedroom flat, with a kitchen, and a tv room, and private bathroom, sorry did I say little? Was all too great and cheap at only $40 per night. If you ever find yourself in Christchurch, I'd recommend the Stonehurst and if your there for a week, ask for the crummy old apartment, its the best deal in New Zealand.

Before Christurch, we went to Kiakora, Kate wrote all about that so all I'll say is it was worth the stop. Stay at the Dolphin Lodge and Connor and Anna will take good care of you, especially if you have wine or Baileys to share.

Phew! Done. No time to proof read so your getting a raw version, my apologies for the misspless and the grose misuse of the English Language but I hope you enjoyed it.