Nerd Alert!

Doot-do, do-do-do. Matamata! Doot do-do-do! Matamata!

(If you have no idea what little song I was singing while writing the opening lines of this entry, I insist that you check out this lovely YouTube clip of the muppets singing “Mah Na Mah Na.” Your inner child will thank you.)

On March 17, Robin and I bid farewell to Rich and began our own little sojourn into Kiwi country. Our first stop? Matamata, a lovely little town, now famous for its Hobbity hamlets. That’s right folks, we let our inner nerds out to play and took the tour of the Shire set. Having both read and watched The Lord of the Rings, I instinctively recognized the rolling green mountains as Hobbiton, and delighted in having the opportunity to visit the set. It is so quaint! There are round little doors and chimneys popping out of hillsides as far as the eye can see. Across the lake, you can see the Green Dragon and the mill. Real fruit grows on the apple and pear trees! It’s so picturesque even the most Orc-like individuals would feel their blackened hearts melting. Sadly, I cannot publish any of the pictures of the Shire here. Before touring the set, Robin and I had to sign a bit of parchment that said we wouldn’t, or Peter Jackson may just gobble us up for second breakfast. Or elevensies. Or afternoon tea. So you’ll have to be satisfied with our mock-hobbit pictures from the shuttle launch in Matamata.

Yessir, I’m skipping. And for good reason. I’m apparently too tall to be a hobbit! (The new casting call for The Hobbit asked for extras 5’2” and under. At 5’4.5,” I’ve missed the cut-off.) I think my lack of hairy feet may also have put me out of the running for the casting. As you can see, Robin has attempted to make herself hobbit-height, but alas, I think she’s more elvish with those long limbs.

Our time in the Shire led us to feel a bit hobbity, so we were concerned about food immediately following our tour of the set. Luckily, Matamata complied and we didn’t have to go on much of a quest to find lunch. (Just one lunch, though. We are too tall to be hobbits, after all!) Near the cafe we visited, we came across the Manly Milk Bar. Now, we know what Milk Bars are--small convenience stores from which one can readily buy various food cupboard staples like milk, juices, crackers, and treats. It’s not a fully-stocked grocery store, but enough to help you “get by.” It also acts as a newsstand. However, I couldn’t stop giggling at the name of this Milk Bar. What made it “Manly?”

I had to investigate.

Using the best skills one could glean from The Boxcar Children, I sauntered casually into the store, saying “hello” to the elderly gentleman behind the counter of the Manly Milk Bar. On the right, a refrigerator for soda, milk, and juices. Next to the counter and spilling over onto it I saw a wide array of candies. Frozen treats were located in a freezer on the right of the counter. Shampoos, soaps, and other personal sundries were located in the back of the shop. Toys were on a shelf just beyond the cold beverages. This wasn’t feeling particularly “manly.”

And then I saw it--the “man cave.” Lurking surreptitiously behind a tall shelf was a rack of magazines with scantily clad and cleverly black-bar-censored women.

It’s a good thing this was not really a Boxcar Children mystery. I don’t think the wholesome Boxcar kiddos would have been able to make sense of the “man cave” in the back of the Manly Milk Bar. I think they might be altogether scandalized if they saw two people *gasp* holding hands. I can’t bear to think of how they’d react to scantily clad women on magazine covers!

(I, on the other hand, giggled.)

To commemorate this momentous occasion, I struck a “manly” pose, in the vein of Sears catalogue models, outside the Manly Milk Bar.

(Hey, a girl can only do so much to be “manly,” especially when wearing a ruffly purple t-shirt.)

We headed toward Raglan next, a beach community noted for its black sand beaches and surfing. While on route, we took a small detour to Bridal Veil Falls. It was a short trek to the falls, but the twisty roads to reach the track were killer. I travel fairly well to most places, and I like a good thrill from time to time. However, the one thing I simply cannot master is twisty roads (or spinning rides). I do not blame Robin’s driving in the least--again, she handled those twists and turns like a pro and kept us safe to the bitter end. I just wish my stomach would listen to my brain, which kept uttering “It’s ok, it’s ok. Don’t toss your cookies!”

The visit to the falls was worth it, though! McLaren Falls had been nice; Bridal Veil Falls was impressive in its sheer force. It was a taller fall, and we even managed to see a rainbow in the mist. (Thanks to my handy dandy 35mm “biggie” camera, I managed to capture that rainbow too! Look closely!)

(Ok, I’ll admit that the rainbow wasn’t that difficult to capture. I also snagged some shots with my digital “point-and-shoot” camera, which also came out nicely.)

(And since this entry is entitled “nerd alert,” I guess this is the appropriate time to note that I had a total of THREE cameras on the trip--the 35mm biggie, the point-and-shoot digital, and my HD Flip cam for video. Nerd alert, indeed!)

Arriving in Raglan after our day at the Shire and Bridal Veil Falls, we were in for a very different sort of visit. We stayed at the Karioi Lodge, a hostel that hosted its own surf school. Since we were just passing through for the night, we weren’t part of the school. However, we still got a taste of the surf culture. We met some very nice people at the lodge, but looking around we got the sense that a few of the travelers had been there slightly longer than the average backpacker would stay. Perhaps they’d originally intended to stay for 3 days of surf school, but liked the surf life so much that they stayed for 2 weeks instead. This is not in any way a judgment--just more of an amused observation. The lodge itself had a comfortable, relaxed vibe that permeated every inch of the property. The kitchen was clean but well-used. Our shared bunk had a slightly damp but pleasantly camp-like smell. Robin and I opted to get Indian takeaway from the city proper that evening, as part of the Kiwi culture. (I know, I know! Indian food doesn’t scream of Kiwi culture at first glimpse, but takeaway is like a whole food group unto itself! The folks of New Zealand seem crazy for their takeaway food, and based on the caliber of the Indian food we got, I can see why! It was exquisite!) We also opened our bottle of Mills Reef Shiraz and each had a glass. (Please note--we still had about half a bottle left after this. For future reference.) In plastic wine glasses, of course! I think actual glass would have defied the very nature of Karioi Lodge and felt completely out of place. Plastic? Just right for the occasion.

And perfectly suited to us at the time. Two gals off on a wild and crazy, and slightly nerdy, road trip.