Another Pair Of Eyes

Letter

Dear Readers,

Have been in Thailand! Much to see, very hot, very humid, air is mainly fumes and water. Delicious. Also delicious is Thai food (AMAZING, and like a pound to eat out) and doxycycline (anti-malarial, not actually delicious). Took sleeper train to Chiang Mai from Bangkok, slowest and rockiest train ever but functional and kind of enjoyable because of it’s crapness. Chiang Mai is awesome and chilled but slightly overtouristed. Large night market is amazing, great atmosphere, but mostly tat rather than actual useful things. Temples have more tourists than monks, have lost their character and their soul. Somewhat tragic, actually. Still, more temples in other places, and we shall visit them instead. Going on a off-the-tourist-trail rainforest trek for tree days (LOL see what I did there)* in a couple of days time, learning how to live off the forest and make traps and fires and hunt stuff and not get (badly) poisoned, so it should be pretty amazing. At the time it will doubtless be a humid hell on earth with a side of mosquitoes and having to eat tarantulas (not actually joking) but on retrospect it will have been awe-inspiring, had nothing bad about it, and why aren’t you guys booking tickets already?! Three nights, one in a hut thing in the jungle somewhere and one with a village which has limited contact with the outside world, so no facilities or tech or anything, just subsistence. Mixed feelings of thrilled anticipation at general fantasticosity and dread for being boiled alive in own sweat/blood (delete as appropriate).

Otherwise life quiet on the eastern front, Thai people generous but difficult to get rid of sometimes (tuk tuk? tuk tuk? tuk tuk? ARGH), on the whole very positive experience! Rainy season living up to it’s name approximately half the time, fortunate as cannot burn with rain and doxycycline makes you burn lobster-red in like 5 minutes. Also lucky as suncream decidedly not waterproof! This is no good because it means that sweat washes it all away and on to your clothes leaving white marks everywhere (NB wear more white clothes). Not to mention that you are no longer wearing sunscreen. Never mind. Now off to go watch Thai boxing match in town, should be an experience, shall see.

Trust you are all well, dear readers, and that life is treating you swimmingly wherever you may be. Watched F1 race in bar yesterday, actually quite enjoyed it but did only watch the last half. Sure someone might be pleased to know that. Also safety car = a beautiful car.

Signing off for the day,

Me.

*definitely not originally a typo.

Catchup NZ

So folks, ‘s been awhile. I understand the blog was down for a time, my apologies for that. All fixed now. Unfortunately my Internet access has been somewhat restricted of late and hence I’ve not written anything. That and it’s been pretty chaotic ‘n’ all what with now being in Thailand, constantly on the move, roasting to death and so on and so forth.

So yes. The last few days in NZ passed without too much to comment upon aside from the actual drive up to Franz Josef (a tiny little town with two streets, one supermarket, three bars and about ten hostels) and being on the glacier. The station wagon was an ancient Subaru (sounds good I know) Legacy estate car, which was built like a tank, insanely comfy, and handled like a brick on a concrete raft. It must have been underpowered when it was made, the clutch bit about a centimetre from the top of the pedal movement, and the engine had no pull at all below 3000rpm. Like none. Still, it was pretty spacious and cheap and as such, pretty damn good. We drove up from Queenstown over a mountain pass to the west coast, and then on up north until we hit Franz Josef. It was around 5 hours total but we managed to string it out with lunch (by a 90ft waterfall in the sunshine in the mountains) and a couple of stops along the way. One of these was a long, deserted beach, which went on for miles. All along it were pieces of driftwood wedged into the rocks at the high tide mark, as far as the eye could see. It had a strange, almost morbid surreality to it – the air of a memorial is perhaps the best descriptor. It was quite striking and it was quiet in the car when we left.

Then there was the glacier walking. This could’ve been an amazing day but was reduced to merely average by the determination of the guide to cut steps in the ice all over the place, where the crampons we were wearing would’ve coped just perfectly with it. This in itself wouldn’t have been an issue except that it took up a good hour and a half or so of our 5 hours on the ice. Frustrating. On the plus side, we got to walk in the bottoms of some crevasses, squeezing through gaps which sometimes were pretty marginal (breathe out and PUSH type gaps rather than oh-my-bag-doesn’t-quite-fit gaps). The ice down there is the usual stunning blue and I very much enjoyed that part of the trek. I also found myself feeling strangely at home; whether by virtue of Everest or something else I don’t know but when I see a towering river of ice in the mountains I feel rather comforted. Bizarre.

Then we left, drove to Christchurch, saw Salt (average Hollywood fare) and Harry Brown (very gritty, very British, worth a look), and flew the nest after one night.

And now I am tired. The rest can come later.

Queenstown Proper

My last entry on Queenstown was sketchy in detail to say the least, my mind being somewhat preoccupied with adrenaline-inducing experiences to actually describe this place. You can get something of an impression of the town from the fact that flights on are visual approach only. The mountains as you fly in look close enough to touch, and they are spectacular. That first impression of stunning scenery bears true for everything around the town* – snow-capped peaks and jagged rocks descending into thick fir forests below the snowline. The air is wintery, crisp and cold. The place is glorious, and I really mean that. Some of the views really do satisfy the criteria for the phrase ‘hungry eyes’.

It’s not all adrenaline rush here either, although admittedly there is a sizeable chunk of the population here who are both tourists and skiers, so the place is notably busier in the evenings as an aprés ski night out. This is a shame as it means that the proportion of what I can only describe as ‘twats’ is greatly increased. Coincidentally, the proportion of Americans is also much higher. There are genuine out-of-Hollywood-teen-movie jocks here. I thought they were a joke. Never mind.

There are two things that are important to know about his place once you discount the skiing and the adrenaline sports: frisbee golf, and Fergburger. The former is a little like crazy golf, and if you’ve got a frisbee it’s free. There are 18 ‘holes’: either posts you need to hit or baskets you need to land your frisbee in. It’s all in the park, which needless to say has gorgeous views of the scenery, and because everyone is skiing it’s kind of empty.

Fergburger is less scenic and elegant but is worth a mention simply because they the burgers they sell there are phenomenal. Like, in my whole life I have never had a burger that good, phenomenal. And at ten dollars for your evening meal it’s damn great value as well. And did I mention that it tastes phenomenal?

We’re driving out to Franz Josef, a tiny town on the west coast, on Monday. There’s a glacier trip there which will be pretty cool, and then we continue our drive up to Christchurch the next day. Thursday we fly out to Thailand. We hired a random car -there was a deal on relocating a random vehicle back to Christchurch. The random car thing has turned out to be a station wagon – I haven’t seen it yet but it sounds massive. On the plus side it’ll be good in snow and there is plenty of that about here.

I’m rambling. Will write more if and when something happens.

*apart, of course, from the actual buildings. These continue to be the strangely prefab-looking single-storey buildings which are ubiquitous here. In a word, they look crap.

Queenstown

Ohyes, that’s where I am now and it’s damn amazing. I’ve done more cool stuff in the last couple of days than I had done over the last 4 weeks, and I’m not even kidding. We flew in a midday yesterday and by three o’clock I was jumping off a 134m high platform with a giant rubber band tied to my feet, and mygodhaveIeverdoneanythingsoadrenalinerushing (video is on Facebook for those of you who know where I am, friends only I’m afraid so add or be already added! [photos also up there, for the interested]). It was awesome. Excuse the wordless yell all the way down, unfortunately the sound doesn’t pick up the hysterical laughter on the way back up. Fantastic.

It was defintely the coolest thing I’d ever done but then today I jumped out of a plane from 12,000ft, which was equally phenomenal (and probably more so). Nothing quite like falling through the sky over incredible snowy mountains, literally over a rainbow, with raindrops hitting your face at 200kph.* It’s been a near-perfect weekend, is all I can say really. And I am sorry for this basically being a ‘oooh, look at meeeee’ post but what the hell, you only do these things very very occasionally so I’ll shelve my guilt.

Anyway, I’m at an internet cafe in Queenstown over the road from the hostel at present and so I think I’m going to have to call it quits now. My internet access is going to be a lot patchier over the next 5 weeks so updates will become few and far between. And when they happen they may come all at once.

Take it easy bros, ay.

*Actually that kind of stings your face but the overall amazingness makes up for it.

Arrival

I arrived in New Zealand on tuesday after a very long time spent in very small (and not hugely comfortable) spaces and have had a few days to get an impression. New Zealand is like Britain Mk.II. The winter is milder, the bottles of coke are 600mls, steak is cheap, rugby is the national sport and scrubs have pockets on both sides. BOTH. SIDES. Have you any idea how much of an improvement that is?!*

Ahem.

Today is day 3 of one-armed ‘working’ in Auckland City Hospital intensive care unit. It’s a mixed bag – there are things going on here which are far and away beyond the average ward business and can be really quite amazing (closing up a chest on the unit, anyone?). Sadly the rest of the time nothing is happening, the patients are all unconscious and there is nothing to do.

Example: day one. Turn up, ward round, then see two tracheostomies and a cardioversion (like a planned defibrillation, with the electronic pads and people yelling ‘CLEAR!’). Never seen any of that and it was non-stop action. Then, in the afternoon, I sat in the office staring at walls and admiring the paintwork.

It’s difficult to do the things you’d normally do on wards when it’s quiet as well – as mentioned previously the patients are either unconscious (and can’t talk) or have a tracheostomy (and can’t talk) so you can’t chat to them. Bastard-bloody-broken arm means I can’t take blood or put in lines or even examine people, so all that’s left is to wander aimlessly around or sit and read. Even trying to find out about patients is hard because the intensivists speak medical jargon to a whole new level of speed and abbreviation, and do not seem to require patient notes, cues, or traditional English vocabulary to do so. It’s…frustrating. There is so much to learn/do here but it is just out of reach. I don’t want to come across negatively, it is good, but not ideal. Then again, what is?

Other stuff – we’re going to hire a car to get around as public transport is poor at best, but until that happens at the weekend it’s nothing going. The houses here are huge and spacious, the views are gorgeous, and frankly if it weren’t for the 24 hours flying I’d need to do to visit family, I’d probably emigrate here. I say probably – not everything about New Zealand is good. For example today there were only extra-large scrubs available, so I’m feeling disillusioned. Oh, and the Kiwis really suck at driving. Even so, I’m only half joking about emigrating in future.

I’d say more but other than be in the hospital (which is just amazing and spacious and new) we’ve not really had the chance to see or do anything so there isn’t a lot more to add at this juncture. Hope the British is treating you well, and watch this space.

*there are still, however, no medium tops. It’s not perfect.

NZ

Today I am off to New Zealand and will not return to these shores until October. Been a few occurrences since the last post – I’ve passed my exams, and broken my arm. I’ve done something to my feet, and cannot easily walk. I am pissed off, upset, frustrated, and the excitement of the upcoming weeks is freshly tainted with dread. And I don’t particularly want to talk about it. There’s a lot to this and a great deal of thoughts either way but the upshot is as follows:

• I’m still going to New Zealand. Stop me at your own peril.
• I’m going to have to make some fast friends in the orthopaedics department.
• The airport, and the walking through it, is really going to hurt.
• Research says I may be able to get the cast off soon. I have an unusual fracture that may well require early mobilisation to prevent permanent loss of movement.
• My feet will hopefully recover within a week. If they don’t then they too are fractured, which would mean that there is something other going on.
• The latter scenario is very unlikely.

Basically, nothing is going to plan but I’m hoping that things resolve. I’d write more but typing isn’t the smooth interface you’d hope it to be with one arm out of commission – a lot of things become surprisingly difficult. Wish me luck everyone, because at this rate I’m really going to need it.

Ireland

I’m back from the Emerald Isle. Anyone miss me?

Probably not, what with Honduras and the Wimbledon finals and days so hot you could die, but there we have it. I certainly enjoyed being disconnected from everything and living with a group of college friends for a week or so. We were right down south near Cork in a house by the sea and it was lovely (although there were the inevitable days when it was Rain and everyone was stuck inside and sharp edges started to show). Hats off to the organiser, who did a fantastic job. The house also had the world’s most out-of-tune piano, which was fun. Still, after all the good times and all the constant company, being dropped back into the world is so mundane.

However, back in the real world I am, and with that comes to inevitable job hunting, boredom, work and mysteriously wasting day after day without really understanding what you’ve been doing. Any holiday at home is a holiday at home too long, in my opinion – I like to be doing things. If life is getting boring, then you’re doing something wrong. Harsh? Maybe.

Anyway, enough of that. At some point during the holiday we were all sitting around the dinner table assigning an animal to each person based on their characteristics (read: based on very little). It was one of those throwaway converations that start suddenly out of nowhere and disappear just as quickly. Still, some interesting things came out of it: some people are really quite perceptive.

One thing I did (re)discover in Ireland was my love of reading. The only things I read at uni are road signs and textbooks, neither the most inspiring works. If I do read a book, it takes me quite a while before I can get through it because lets face it, time spent reading could be used for cooking or working or going out or chatting and it feels kind of indulgent. As such, I only brought a couple of books with me to Ireland. They were finished in the first two days (incidentally, The End Of Mr Y. is really quite an interesting read, and very closely matches my ideas about God), and a further 3 bought from Waterstone’s  in Cork went in a similar fashion (C.J. Samson. Go read.). It just goes to show how much I missed it: the phrase ‘vociferous appetite’ would not be out of place.

I do suffer the same problems with books that I do with films though. Even if I know a book to be good, I will have great difficulty starting it if I think it’s going to be serious and thought-provoking, even though I know I’ll probably enjoy it. Still, its enjoyable, can’t complain.

I count myself lucky to be able to read as I do.

I’m going to stop writing now. Literary verbiage.

maybe I’ll just write a quick note directing you to Florence + the Machines’ Rabbit Heart, because I like it. Stick with it.