Monday, 25 March 2013 03:48 pm
Tour Review, Part 1: The People
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deckardcanineMy Topdeck tour had about 20 tourists present at any given time. You see, not everyone I met signed up for 16 days, the same 16 days, or even the same route (southbound in my case). But I spent more than half my tour with most of them.
Topdeck advertises for ages 18 to 30-something, and indeed we had an 18-year-old and a 38-year-old. Our age differences never really mattered. More interesting were the nations represented: Apart from New Zealand and the U.S., I noted Australia, Canada, the U.K., Ireland, the Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, and even Iran. Everyone had a good mastery of English, tho we native speakers often had to repeat things to one another due to accents. When I realized there were no American women (and the Canadian had a boyfriend), I stopped what little thinking I'd done of the potential for romance. It's not that foreigners can't entice me; I just don't want a long-distance relationship.
With few aloof exceptions, the group was quite friendly. By the end, I even felt strangely popular. It didn't hurt that they came up with a catchy nickname for me: Someone first suggested "D.Steve" in light of my hometown; then it became "Stevie D.," which I liked because I watch a lot of DVDs.
I did make a point to spend a fair amount of free time with the others, even in activities that didn't interest me otherwise, like watching Meet the Parents. Sure, I was usually the first to leave a bar, but simply going and ordering alcoholic beverages, most of which I finished during conversation, is a social achievement for me. (Fringe benefit to hair loss: Apparently no bartender thinks I look younger than 25.) I bombed at bowling, but that didn't ruin anyone's fun, including my own. My bowling in beach cricket was more successful.
And the two tour guides, Dan and Kevin? Well, they were helpful enough, but their sense of humor is an acquired taste. I detected a pattern of chain pulling in New Zealand humor, which gets old fast for someone as trusting as me. Notable example: One night, Dan invited us into the woods to view glowworms. Since flashlights and noise could scare their lights off, we walked quietly in darkness, forming a sort of conga line with Dan in the lead. When we got to the most populous glowworm area, Kevin came out with a chainsaw minus the blade. At first I mistook the sound for a growling animal that shouldn't be common to New Zealand, so I was among the shouters.
I should mention the Maori we encountered, apart from the everyday townsfolk who didn't advertise their heritage. Our visit to a marae started out highly formalized, complete with a chant to which we replied with a semi-prepared song of our choice: Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds." Guess that's one way to convey peaceful intentions. After that, our hosts acted basically like us, the only lingering formality being rules against wearing shoes in the sacred building and taking pictures of the pictures of ancestors. A little later, we saw a seemingly traditional Maori stage performance, the most impressive aspect of which involved swinging, well, objects around in rhythmic skill. Yeah, I sure felt like a tourist then.
Topdeck advertises for ages 18 to 30-something, and indeed we had an 18-year-old and a 38-year-old. Our age differences never really mattered. More interesting were the nations represented: Apart from New Zealand and the U.S., I noted Australia, Canada, the U.K., Ireland, the Netherlands, Germany, Switzerland, Sweden, Denmark, and even Iran. Everyone had a good mastery of English, tho we native speakers often had to repeat things to one another due to accents. When I realized there were no American women (and the Canadian had a boyfriend), I stopped what little thinking I'd done of the potential for romance. It's not that foreigners can't entice me; I just don't want a long-distance relationship.
With few aloof exceptions, the group was quite friendly. By the end, I even felt strangely popular. It didn't hurt that they came up with a catchy nickname for me: Someone first suggested "D.Steve" in light of my hometown; then it became "Stevie D.," which I liked because I watch a lot of DVDs.
I did make a point to spend a fair amount of free time with the others, even in activities that didn't interest me otherwise, like watching Meet the Parents. Sure, I was usually the first to leave a bar, but simply going and ordering alcoholic beverages, most of which I finished during conversation, is a social achievement for me. (Fringe benefit to hair loss: Apparently no bartender thinks I look younger than 25.) I bombed at bowling, but that didn't ruin anyone's fun, including my own. My bowling in beach cricket was more successful.
And the two tour guides, Dan and Kevin? Well, they were helpful enough, but their sense of humor is an acquired taste. I detected a pattern of chain pulling in New Zealand humor, which gets old fast for someone as trusting as me. Notable example: One night, Dan invited us into the woods to view glowworms. Since flashlights and noise could scare their lights off, we walked quietly in darkness, forming a sort of conga line with Dan in the lead. When we got to the most populous glowworm area, Kevin came out with a chainsaw minus the blade. At first I mistook the sound for a growling animal that shouldn't be common to New Zealand, so I was among the shouters.
I should mention the Maori we encountered, apart from the everyday townsfolk who didn't advertise their heritage. Our visit to a marae started out highly formalized, complete with a chant to which we replied with a semi-prepared song of our choice: Bob Marley's "Three Little Birds." Guess that's one way to convey peaceful intentions. After that, our hosts acted basically like us, the only lingering formality being rules against wearing shoes in the sacred building and taking pictures of the pictures of ancestors. A little later, we saw a seemingly traditional Maori stage performance, the most impressive aspect of which involved swinging, well, objects around in rhythmic skill. Yeah, I sure felt like a tourist then.