Neil and Jess Invade NZ-OZ 2010

This is the fucking post you have been waiting for.

I don’t like Jess at 2:50 am.  I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me either.  I mean, if she’s asleep next to me, on her side of the bed and not on my side curled up in the fetal position with her knees in my back pushing me off my, she’s great.  But at 2:50 am for our 3:20 pick up by the Super Shuttle, yeah, I don’t like her. 

I don’t blame her – it was either 2:50, 3:20 or 3:50 pick up and while we usually don’t have a problem in these airports, the time we opt for the late pick up we’ll have a problem.  I have agada and am burping up last night’s dinner because as I told Jess, “I haven’t even gotten a fucking chance to digest it yet.” We get ready quickly and I am glad I woke up at 2:50 because if I got up at 3 like she planned we would have been late.  But we’re not.  The shuttle was there waiting for us at 3:16.  I’m not sure how long they were there nor do I give a shit because it’s 3:16 am.

We pick up another couple – as there were already two other assholes with a 2:50 pick up on the shuttle and we start creeping through this neighborhood.  The driver keeps looking at houses and she’s moving slowly through the street – I’m thinking she’s checking on her own house before we go to the airport which to me would be fucked up because it’s approximately 3:24 at this point.  Turns out she’s looking for another early morning asshole with a 6 o’clock flight.  Surprise!  She finds one.

We get to the counter – get up to it and get our boarding passes without any problems.  Now we have to wait –until 4:30 before we can go through security – it’s like fucking 3:40ish now.  We sit around and watch as people start lining up to go in.  The line is getting massive and there are people all over the place.  You can tell who the Europeans are because they try to sneakily go towards the front of the pile.  “There’s a lot of Orientals in this elevator!”  Sorry, this post may be littered with inside jokes – so those of you who get them, enjoy them.  There are tons of Asians in New Zealand.  A lot of tourists but there are many who live there.  The tourists swarm any area they go to like fire ants.  They’re everywhere and they don’t give a shit if they knock in to you, step in front of you, get in your picture, etc.  We get through with some minor bickering between the two of us – it is like 5:30 now and we’re about to hop on a 3 or 4 hour flight so, I mean, the tempers are sort of flaring.

Luckily, there was no one in the middle of us so we had the three seats to ourselves.  Oh, wait, Jess had two seats to sprawl out across and sleep.  At some point I was able to maneuver myself into some f’ed up position and fell asleep but when I woke up my knee was all sorts of twisted and I was in a decent amount of pain.  We’re getting off the plane and this one white trash Aussie is trying to push her way past people to get out of the plane.  Where the fuck are you going?  There are at least 80 people in front of you and just because 6 were stupid enough to let you slip on through doesn’t mean anyone else will.  Actually, since we are on the topic of Aussies and NZ’ers, we are tired of your fake British accents.  It’s only been a week but we’ve had enough.  I mean really, what is it supposed to be – a slightly more annoying British accent?  If so, then good on you.  And that’s another thing – what’s with the fucking sayings?  I thought you people spoke English.  Who says that shit?  What's good one me?  My clothing?  My hair which is longer than it's been in five years?  The European standing too close to me and it on my back?  When I say thank you, say “you’re welcome”, not “it’s ok”.  Of course it’s ok, you kiwi-lymie bastard, I said thank you.  While I’m rolling, two more things.  Wear underwear.  Men and women both.  Wear your goddamn underwear.  If I want to see a flat-asses crack I can look in my own mirror!  I saw at least 8 cracks of varying length throughout the week – and it’s not just women with thong issues – its dudes’ fucking pasty white asses.  #2 – hey honkeys, you’re not in a rap video.  Pick up your goddamn pants and put on a belt before I kick you in your flat, pasty white asses.  You’d think they was chillin’ in Bed Stuy.  (On a serious note though – the vast majority of the people in both countries are super nice and helpful – they love to talk and will go out of their way to help.  It's real laid back - sometimes too laid back but overall a great experience.)

After getting off the plane, we head through customs and on our cards I made the mistake of admitting that we had gone hiking, so some guy has to take our shoes and hose off the bottom of it before we enter the fucking holy land of Australia.  “Oh, nooooo, soil from New Zealand will mix with ours.  Goodness me governor, we can’t have that now can we.”  Well we could if you didn’t fucking hose my boots off.  I wish I had a frog like Bart Simpson when he went to AU and released them and they started eating all the koalas and shit.  Now we head out into the terminal to find our rental car.  They’re not in the terminal and Jess asks the Budget peple to use their phone and they were cool.  She says they told her to go to the 10 minute parking area and they will be right over.  We walk out and follow the yellow signs as told to the free pick up lot – 15 minutes.  I ask if we should be in the 10 min one and she asks the guy collecting carts, who’s clearly lonely and he says no.  There is no 10 minute lot.  Cool – so we wait.  Some guy in a big beard and turban starts talking to Jess about the pick up area and he’s got a thick ass accent.  I’m laughing because I know she can’t tell what the hell he’s saying.  I stop laughing when he parks his cart with the luggage near us and walks away.  Great.  Killed in AU waiting for a rental car.  Luckily he comes back quickly and moves down the parking lot a bit.  Unluckily, we’re on about 30 minutes waiting.

Now 40 and Jess decides that she will go back inside to get a SIM card so e can call these people and find out where the fuck they are.  The lonely guy is still collecting the carts.  Jess makes it back out with the SIM card and can’t get it to work.  She messes around with it some and finally she is able to call and get it activated.  We’re on at least minute 60 here, mind you.  While speaking with the guy he tells her it will be ready for use in half and hour and she politely tells him she needs it now, that’s why she got the card because she needed to make a call.  He says he can’t do anything, goodbye.  Jess keeps trying it until it works about 5 minutes later. 

She calls and tries to find out where they are.  We tell her where we are and that we came in international and we’re at the 15 minute lot under the big D.  She tells Jess to wait there, she knows exactly where we are.  Another I’d say 30-40 minutes pass as we wait.  The guy with the cart and his buddy are of some sort of Malaysian decent and they two of them are laughing and singing songs of our woe.  They have never seen two Americans wait to be picked up for so long – and without food and water.  They seem to have collected every fucking cart from both terminals in the time we have been there.  They’ve done it so many time that I can now recognize specific carts and considered naming them so I do not go crazy while waiting to be rescued.  It’s cold in the shade but warm in the sun and we’re out there for so long I’m getting sunburned – even Jess is feeling the sun because she applied her daily sunscreen at fucking 3:10 am.  I think we call back for the third time and the woman says they’re waiting for us in the terminal, with a sign with Jess’ name, near the McDonald’s.  We fucking storm in there and finally find the guy.  He tries to make polite conversation and apologizes and says a lot of people get confused on where to meet and I’m thinking, well then change your directions to them shithead.  Jess tells him that she’s very frustrated and not happy.  We get to the van and there’s another guy who tries to explain it away but I mean really, at this point shut the fuck up, get us our car and go away.  We chose this company because we used them in Spain and didn’t have any troubles. 

We get to the place and the woman is very apologetic and I must say went out of her way to accommodate us – so kudos to 1Car1 for doing the right thing and hooking us up, with the rental for much, much less and for arranging a way for us to get to the airport early on Friday when they will not be there. 

We took the road to Katoomba and the first sign we needed to look for was Liverpool – now there’s a good sign!  It would have gone much quicker if there hadn’t been any construction – and for some reason they were doing a huge amount at once on the road.  Not like us where they bang out a spot and then move on to the next one.  This seemed really inefficient but what the hell do I know.  The road to the Jenolan Caves was pretty scary.  It wasn’t completely horrible but there were a ton of turns and they actually make it one way for part of the day so the tour busses can get through without and problems.  For much of the way there were signs about kangaroo and wallaby crossings – and on the side and middle of the road there was lots of proof.  I guess the kangaroos are a nuisance here – like deer for us and people hit them all the time and wreck their cars. 

The Jenolan Caves entrance was pretty impressive – it’s just like a giant hole in the side of a mountain.  Of course, we’re super fucking late thanks to the car people so we miss the tour we want to go on and have to decide on either the 3:30 or 4 tour.  Jess asks the girl which one is better and she says that since it’s the two of us the 4 o’clock Temple of Baal is the more romantic.  Does she know who the hell she’s talking to?  I mean Jess not me clearly I am romantic.  We sign up for the Temple of Baal and take the self guided tour through the Nettle Cave.  You can read all about the history of the place here We get to the spot where the tour is going to start and then walk up to the entrance of our cave.  The guide is blabbing away and it is starting to rain.  Everyone is getting a little annoyed because she can do her whole goddamn talk from the comfort of the cave instead of leaving us out there in the rain.  The tour and the cave were pretty amazing.  When we first got down there it was so dark that it only looked like it was about 20 feet long and I was like, shit, we got robbed.  But then the guide turned on a few lights and the area became much larger and the true size and expanse of the cave was revealed.  There was a spot called the Angel’s Wing and this damn thing did look like an angel – it was amazing.  The whole cave was cool – I will let the pictures do the talking. (the pictures on my Canon are amazing - can't wait to post them).

Now earlier Jess said she wanted me to do some of the driving on the way back from the caves – which would be fine except I have never driven on the other side of the road but now given the conditions…wrong side of the road, twilight, fucking kangaroos and wallabys and Crocodile fucking Dundee playing Frogger and rain…I don’t think so.  I don’t even know what a fucking wallaby looks like!  Look out for the wallaby – oh that thing that’s now mush?  Woops!  Needless to say, Jess drove and it was probably better that way.  The ride home was pretty uneventful on the animal front.  A rabbit dashed in front of the car and Jess didn’t step on the gas quick enough so we missed him.  Had we been on the right side of the road we would have gotten his ass.

That’s a joke by the way.

Our hostel was pretty cool – it was an old building and the ceilings were like 12 feet high.  It was painted all silly and college, young hippie traveler type on the inside but it was still pretty cool – a lot of nice moulding.  We headed out to get dinner and neither of us could keep our eyes open since we were at 2:50.  The restaurant was in an old bank and was really nice as well.  The food was good and after Jess basically started falling asleep at the table we decided to head back. 

The hostel had a sign that said “To conserve water showers must be 5 minutes or less”.  Really?  Have you seen my fucking hair?   It takes at least 5 minutes just to get it all wet.  Jess came back from the bathroom and says, “I know how they get you to stay to 5 minutes – either it’s boiling hot or freezing cold.  It’s too hot for you you won’t like it.”  The internet connection isn’t working and now I am walking down the fucking hallway to the final twist of the screw on a crazy long day.  I’m pissed because I have been enjoying longer showers the entire time we have been away and was looking forward to this one because I was up at 2 fucking 50 am and didn’t shower.  I get in there and I’m already annoyed because they have one of those half a shower door shit things which makes no goddamn sense at all and I get the water started. 

To my surprise – it stays at a good temperature the entire time I’m in there and I don’t stick to the five minute rule.  I probably didn’t stick to the ten minute one either.  I get back to the room and find fucking Flat Slag trying to mack on my wife.  WTF?  This isn’t why I brought him here!