The travel bug hits lip staff

Hey hey. Wish I had access to the Net during my travels. No such luck where I’ve just been, so this is written in retrospect and subject to time-lapse memory.

I’ve just got back from a snowboarding adventure in New Zealand. If you’ve never been to NZ, get packing now as this journey comes with my personal Gold Seal of Approval. The views are spectacular – LOTR fans only get a small taste of the sheer breathlessness you can experience on the summit of a snow covered mountain over 2000 feet above the place you left the car.

The food is A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. The land is so fertile, produce is a million times better, and meat-eaters can definitely appreciate that their dinner used to eat really well too. Even NZ McDonalds tastes better than the rubbish we get here. But don’t waste your time, money, or taste buds on take-away. At every single restaurant, cafe and bakery we ate at, the food was divine. And, oh, the sandwiches! How does something so simple taste so good?

The snowboarding was an adventure in itself. As someone who has never seen a decent layer of snow in her life, I had mixed feelings about approaching the slopes. Day One was so warm I had my own personal sauna inside my ski jacket. The fresh layer of powdery snow meant it didn’t hurt as much when I slipped onto my butt – which occurred frequently. Day Two was somewhat colder and the snow somewhat firmer, but my ability on the snowboard was improving and I was having too much fun to care. Day Three on the other hand only re-emphasised to me how unfit I am and how much work snowboarding actually is. My muscles ached, and the number of rear-end slides I had endured made it difficult to sit down. Hence Day Three’s activities were reduced to admiring the skills and agility of other boarders – from inside the lodge.

Despite the pain, my only beef is with the sleeping arrangements. Our “ski lodge” was a glorified hostel with a fireplace and four-person spa. The other travellers staying there were not the friendly party-makers I expected, probably because they knew we could hear their every move through the paper-thin walls, and vice versa – especially when in the bathroom. And the beds were crap. The only sleep we got was through sheer exhaustion and with the assistance of the spoils of our Duty Free shopping.

Next time I’m going five-star all the way baby.