Sweet as, bros!

Rocks!

Your New Zealand correspondent has been suffering from writer's block the last couple of weeks. So apologies for not writing sooner. And sorry if all of what follows is a little off of the beaten path. Sometimes it just comes out that way.

Anyway, here's the first installment of stuff that happened to me in New Zealand. I'll write again in the next couple of days with more about New Zealand (and less about hitchhiking, promise).

The Land of the Long White Cloud

So I just hitchhiked from Wellington to Auckland, almost the whole length of New Zealand's north island. On the way I visited family in Wanganui and safely skirted the foothills of Mount Doom*.

Big Dan

For the last leg I got a ride from an enormous Maori guy named Dan. After grilling me on my knowledge of Maori culture (I scored very poorly) he decided I was in need of a crash course. So after brushing up my Maori history and basic Maori conversation, we spent an entertaining half an hour cruising up the highway, him teaching me how to do the "Haka" (a Maori war dance, made internationally famous by the All Blacks Rugby team).

"Basically, the Haka's saying 'Here I am, come and get it'" Dan explains. It involves a lot of grunting, summoning of ancestral strength from the heavens, and sticking one's tongue out. Anyone who's ever attempted to open a tin of baked beans without a can opener will know the kind of thing. It's lots of fun and we practice on a coachload of New Zealand grannies as we pull alongside them at some traffic lights.

As Dan drops me off I strike my best pose and stick my tongue out at him. He smiles and gives me the thumbs up. It made my day. Not only because Dan's so cool but because I'd been keeping half an eye out for some kind of "Hakas for Beginners" course - and one dropped right into my lap.

You never know who you're going to meet hitchhiking. Amazes me, every time. Especially in New Zealand where the highways are teeming with entertaining nutters. (I shouldn't joke. As many people die each year on New Zealand roads as on English roads - despite there being just 5% of the population. It's all these windy mountain traverses and single-lane bridges).

Yes, I'm all enthusiastic about hitchhiking again. So I'm going to waffle on about it for a bit. If this doesn't sound like your cup of tea then you can skip the next few paragraphs and you won't miss much.

The Pros and Cons of Hitchhiking

Okay, so on the way from Wellington to Auckland, via Wanganui, a distance of approximately 500 miles, I got nine rides and never had to wait more than 20 minutes to be picked up. I met:

• Hans, 20s, mother was half German half Maori. "You're from Bath? Some mates of mine went on a rugby tour around Bath. You've got some big boys, hey." He chuckles. "But they can't play rugby very well."

• A couple back from studying abroad at Stanford, California.

• Jackson and Crystal (what great names!), boy racer and boy racer's girl, both maybe 19 years old. Met a month ago, fell in love, both quit living with their parents and are moving into an apartment together in Wellington. Young, naive and in a fast car. Bruce Springsteen would write a song about them.

• Roley, just taken his dog to the beach. Top fellah. I stole the dog's place in the front seat, however, and the dog was determined to get it back. Also, Roley has a terrible squint. So conversation suffered as I alternated between wrestling with a soggy mutt and not knowing which of Roley's eyes to look in.

• Dave (60ish, emigrated from England 30 years ago) and Robyne (40s, Maori). Hilarious couple. Dave the cockney joker. "DRIVE AROUND FIJI??? You don't want to go driving around bloomin' Fiji mate. There's nuffink to do, it's TINY!" Dave's been asking me where I travel to next. The campervan leans heavily as he steers around a seemingly endless hairpin bend. We're all thrown over to the side. "THIS is what it's like driving around Fiji!!!!!" Dave explodes in laughter. Leanne explodes in laughter too.

  Dave says that if any of my mates want to go fishing in Lake Taupo, he'll take you. So there you go. I can put you in touch.

• A young soldier (New Zealand Army, Catering Corp) on his way to his first foreign active service in East Temur.

• Twice I'd been told "it's best not to get dropped in the middle of Hamilton" by hitchers who knew the route. Evidently it's very easy to get very stuck there. So of course I get dropped in the middle of Hamilton. I'm there five minutes and a car pulls over and the window winds down. "Mate, it's best not to get dropped in the middle of Hamilton" a man says, "it's easy to get stuck here. Let me drive you to the edge of town." Good bloke.

• Canadian guy and Aussie girl on tour in their campervan. Full of horror stories from working as fruit-pickers.

• Two working mums racing to "the city" for a three-day real estate conference. Lots of cigarette smoking and loud cackling. Their plan is to get pissed up and do lots of shopping. With no kids around.

I had a whale of a time meeting this lot.

There's a business here. Some enterprising individual could invite rich tourists to sit in a comfy room, tell them that every half hour or so a different New Zealander - real random ones, off of the street - will come sit with them and chat enthusiastically about themselves and their country. Ask them any questions you want. Market it right, call it "The Kiwi Experience", and wealthy Americans would pay a fortune. I'm deadly serious. The fact that you can get all of it for free simply by sticking your thumb out on the side of a road would never occur to them.

Long lost cousins

A good idea? I dunno, I'm full of them at the moment. Got an idea for a small company I want to start, working on a couple of book (!) ideas, want to start a bluegrass band. But, my friends, I must confess that this entrepreneurial spirit is born party of feeling a little disconnected, a little tired of the road, of feeling the need to stay in one place and get some projects rolling. Maybe I've got a little case of traveler's blues.

But that's for another time. For now I think everyone should go hitchhiking.

If you're looking for something fun to do this weekend, why not give it a try? I'm serious. Go walk to the end of your street, hold your thumb out, and see what happens. (Small print: All my good friends living in downtown Oakland, California can tell me where I can shove this suggestion).

Neil's Top 10 Tips for Hitchhiking

1. Try to look as if you come from a good home, even if you don't. (Keep all axes out of sight).

2. Hitch where there's lots of traffic heading the direction you want to go. Get a bus out of town if necessary.

3. Make eye contact with drivers and SMILE! (You'll get some lovely smiles back, especially from women who give you the It-Would-Be-Fun-But-I'm-Not-Going-To look.)

4. Hitch where traffic's moving slowly, so drivers can get a good look at this beautiful smile of yours.

5. Hold a sign displaying the direction you're headed in big letters. A "please" helps, too.

6. Posture! (The majority of rides will use gut instinct to decide whether or not to pick you up. Body-language counts. On good days I get lots of rides from people "who never pick up hitchers").

7. Be prepared to turn rides down. Either because the vibe's not good (and I'm not talking solely about Celine Dion on the stereo) or they can't take you far enough to warrant leaving a good hitching spot. Always chat with the driver before loading your bags or getting in.

8. If your ride stop for petrol, offer to contribute - and mean it. Usually your offer will be politely declined, but they'll know you're a nice guy. And maybe offer you food. Or a bed. Or teach you a Haka.

9. Probably a good idea to check a weather report, too. But I never do. Usually I don't get rained on.

10. Oh, and start out early. Your winning smile's no good in the dark.

So, anyway, I'm in New Zealand

The people in New Zealand are very friendly. They're all a little strange. There's a lot of sheep. And I'll try and cobble together some more stuff over the next day or so.

* As "Fellowship of the Ring" would have you believe. And the New Zealanders LOVE the fact that all three Lord of the Rings movies were filmed on the two islands. "Read our unbiased review of the Greatest Movie Of All Time!" declared one newspaper. I saw the actual ring used for filming in a jeweler's shop in Nelson, South Island. It doesn't look special in any way. But I did get a strangely intense urge to steal it...

- Neil