urban tramping

This week I've been picking up some hours working at an after-school program with Outaskool, the organization that I worked for during the school holidays a few months ago. I'm glad for the 15 or so hours of employment, but in order to avoid spending a large chunk of my miniscule paycheck on transportation, I've been walking to and from the school each day, which is just over 2 miles from the church or 3 miles if I'm leaving from our home. On Friday I decided to try jogging home, but quickly found that the 30ish miles of walking during the week had rendered my muscles completely uncapable of any extraordinary feats, a category to which running clearly belonged. During this attempted jog I also incorrectly judged the curvature of the river that I had been following to my next turn-off and was surprised to pop out east of The Palms Mall when I had planned to remain on its southwest side for my entire home journey.

I gave up and took the bus home instead, having been taken under the wing of a British man who had emigrated here 20 years prior and assumed from my accent (and the backpack I was jogging with) that I would be in need of assistance on the public transportation system. This wasn't quite the case, but I'm realizing that I will be pegged as a tourist no matter how long I'm here, and am trying to reconcile myself to this truth.

-Rachel

the one thing every church should excel in

When choosing a church to attend, and more importantly, to commit to serving in, I believe it's important to know the heart of the leadership team and assess whether it lines up with your own values and passions. Over the past months it's been confirmed that we have chosen well at City Church, because our pastor values food. This afternoon we attended a brilliantly (and brilliantly simple) event, a potluck lunch hosted jointly by the seniors group and the young adults, who historically haven't had much to do with each other but both desired to change that pattern. From my conversations with May and Claire I gleaned recipes for lamb shanks with mint sauce and bread and butter pudding and heard the most romantic wartime love stories involving dashing young men on motorbikes. It was a great event, and maybe the shortest one in the history of the young adults group, as half of the group soon headed home for an afternoon nap :)

-Rachel

things i love: turkey sandwiches and graphic design

I've just spent a wonderful morning designing the advertisements for our next Family Ministries event, which is going to be an early Thanksgiving dinner. We had been planning to do this event in November, but we were in need of an event that would create opportunities for our new families to connect, and this seemed better suited to that purpose than the father/son, mother/daughter event that we'd pencilled in for September. It's not going to be fall in November here anyway, so it didn't seem like a big deal to move it up a few months. That also frees up the two of us to do an even more authentic Thanksgiving celebration for our close friends in November like we'd been planning. We're pretty stoked about our marketing - the one on the left is the one that will be printed in the bulletin this Sunday, and the one below is the full, postcard-sized version that we'll print out (hopefully) on some cool paper that will give us the worn antique map look and send to our families. Cool, eh?

-Rachel

conference season

I'm restless. Each evening after dinner, the TV rumbling away in the background, I pore over our New Zealand atlas looking for towns that I have yet to visit and searching for the familiar dotted lines that signify a hiking route. I wish I could be spending this barely-employed season out on the trail having active adventures, but for now I have to be satisfied with adventures of a different sort, and so we've signed ourselves up for a couple of conferences in the next month. This weekend, on the anniversary of our arrival in New Zealand (it feels like so long ago!), we're heading down to Dunedin with the youth group for their annual Branded conference, which is held at the church that I visited a few weeks ago with Ann-Kristin. We're excited to hear from some good speakers and do some networking, but mainly it's a chance to get out of Christchurch for a bit.

But what we're looking forward to most is next month's trip up to Auckland's North Shore for the ACTS National Conference. We're flying up, which turns an otherwise minor trip into a grand travel experience, and will spend four weekdays with staff and leaders from churches in our movement around New Zealand. This will be especially beneficial because in a couple of months (and keep this on the down low while it's finalized) we're going to be adding the children's ministry to our portfolio at the church, a huge addition that will require a large portion of our time and wisdom far beyond what we currently hold, but exactly what we wanted to be doing. It will be wonderful to kick off that new season with a hefty dose of vision and inspiration at the National Conference, and it will also be wonderful to spend the early days of spring up north where the warm weather arrives first.

Loving New Zealand even more every day,

-Rachel

big south trip: day 6

Day 6

Omarama to Christchurch

I think I'm mostly going to let the pictures speak for themselves for this final day of the trip and attempt to keep the narration brief. This is the morning view from our bedroom window in Omarama:

While Ann was packing her bag before breakfast, I chatted with the owner of the hostel and discovered that Mt. Cook National Park (the only one of the nine South Island National Parks that I hadn't yet hiked in) was only an hour out of our way, and that the road was not in fact layered in ice and snow as had been my assumption. We didn't have much on the agenda for today anyway, being our "return home" day, and planned to find a short hike (1-2 hours) in the park. We lingered much too long at the visitor center (it was like a free museum) flipping through biographies of the 200+ people who have lost their lives on the mountain, most of whom had extensive mountaineering backgrounds. Mt Cook is New Zealand's highest mountain and was the training ground of Sir Edmund Hillary before he became the first to summit Everest.

So we completed this one-hour hike up to Kea Point, which gave us a view of Mt. Cook (left) up the Hooker Valley, only to decide that what we really wanted was to get beyond the wall of glacial debris across the lake and get a view of the mountain from the much closer Hooker Lake, which would add three hours to our hiking. It wasn't a difficult decision, as we had no desire to leave this gorgeous mountain setting before we absolutely had to.

Our wandering at Mt. Cook took the place of some short hikes that we'd planned at Lake Tekapo, two hours up the road, but we clearly made the better choice. We arrived in Tekapo just in time to snap a couple of sunset pictures at the famed little lakeside church, then drove the final hours home in the exhausted silence that signals the end of a long trip.

I have got to find a way to travel for a living.

-Rachel

big south trip: day 5

Day 5
Arrowtown to Omarama

Woke up to a thick layer of frost on our windshield and no heater with which to warm up the car. Having been unable to find a scraper in Christchurch before we left, Ann had to settle for the tool that scrapes off window decals, which was much smaller but eventually created a hole big enough to see through. We drove the car down the street to the old-time shopping area where it could soak up the sunshine while we tasted fudge and looked in longingly at the creperie, then headed back into Queenstown (for a place that I hate, I sure do find myself there often) with the intention of sampling a Fergburger, renowned all over NZ but available only in Queenstown. I must admit that my Bombay Chicken burger was both delicious and massive, a steal at NZ$12 consiering that I saw fish and chips selling for $19 a block away.

A chilly start to the day in Arrowtown

We've been taking our time meandering back home (you can drive between Christchurch and Invercargill in a day, easily, but where's the fun in that?), so today's 4 hours of driving was one of our longer days on the road. I'm rapidly gaining confidence behind the wheel, as New Zealand contains virtually no roads that are both straight and flat (or, really, either one of these), which is part of its charm if anxiety-inducing at times. The drive is always one of the best parts about travelling in this country. Today we drove through high mountain passes, along deep gorgeous with vibrant blue water, and past mile after mile of vineyards. Lovely. 

Our sweet as breakfast/lunch at Fergburger

Our drive was broken up with a stop in Wanaka, another town on the edge of a gorgeous mountain lake, but much less glitzy and busy than Queenstown. The main attraction for us there was a place that I'd visited in 1998 with my family and considered one of the highlights of our trip: Stuart Landsborough's Puzzling World, where we had a blast finding our way around the giant maze and through the optical illusion rooms. I was pleased to have remembered parts of it from ten years ago, and glad that it was still as much fun :) 

A very enticing toilet seat at the Puzzling World

Just as the sun was setting, we pulled up at the Buscot Station backpackers, a homely little hostel on a farm 9 kms from Omarama (o-MARE-a-ma...we've been corrected), a very small town that didn't quite warrant a stop, as we were anxious to arrive before it was completely dark. As it is, we almost drove through an open gate into a field trying to find the hostel, which isn't very well signed from the turn-off. We're surrounded on all sides by mountains, so the sunrise in the morning should be incredible if we're up early enough to see it (which isn't likely). Having been dependent on bus routes in my earlier travels, I've never really stayed in such a remote hostel, but I'm really liking being so rural at the moment. We're staying in a room with two girls from Switzerland, whose accent even Ann took to be German, and there are two guys in a room down the hall, but otherwise the place is empty. It's just too bad that tomorrow we have to return home to the city :(

-Rachel

big south trip: day 4

Day 4
Invercargill to Arrowtown

15008 kms from New York

Ann-Kristin's car, bought for $450 at a backpacker car market last year, has served us well in all but one respect: it lacks a working heater. This hasn't been an issue for her in Christchurch, where the temperature rarely dips below freezing even at night, but as we've headed into higher altitudes and more southerly latitudes, this has defect has become more noticeable. Our travels today took us down to the southernmost town in the South Island, Bluff, where the ferries depart to cross the Foveaux Strait to Stewart Island, NZ's third (and by far the smallest) island. We would have loved to include Stewart Island in our itinerary, but the cost of the ferry crossing wasn't nearly in the budget, and we really didn't have time for it either. What we did have time for was some delicious blue cod at a fish and chips shop, eaten with the standard massive portion of fries. One of the measurements used here is a pottle, the exact volume of which I have yet to quantify (I think it's really just synonymous with a portion) but it seems horrifyingly generous. We took the obligatory picture at the signpost to match the one that Bryan and I took in front of the signpost at Cape Reinga in the far north last August, when we thought there was a remote chance that we'd hike all the way down here. Though that didn't even come close to happening, it feels like I've completed something by coming here.

Driving into Queenstown at dusk. Lovely.

We spent a couple of hours bumming around Phil's favorite spots in Invercargill (plus a stop in the southernmost Starbucks in the world, which I would consider a must-see attraction) before heading up Hwy 6 towards Queenstown, a town that I hate in the summer for its throngs of partying tourists and, I've now discovered, despise in the winter when even more of the offensive aforementioned tourists flock there with ski and snowboard gear hanging over their shoulders. I acknowledge that I'm also a tourist, but that doesn't make me like overcrowded, overpriced commercial areas that are ruining the most beautifully set town in the country. It's really awful. We only passed through there because we wanted to take the inland route back home and it was on the way. Thankfully, in a moment of wisdom, we made the excellent decision to stay in the charming historic town of Arrowtown, 20 minutes from Queenstown itself. It's quiet, the hostel is small and warm, and we still benefit from a dazzling location in the midst of mountains that look like they've been topped with powdered sugar. We'll drive back into Queenstown tomorrow for the ritual Fergburger and then get the h-e-double hockey sticks out of there.

-Rachel