7 October 1998
Raglan, New Zealand

Moorea, Tahiti, French Polynesia (30 September—4 October 1998)
I'm currently in Raglan, New Zealand after spending four expensive days in Tahiti. My accommodations were rather cheap, but everything else is imported and is reflected in the price--and it's a French commonwealth, so that tacks on a luxury "tax." While I did enjoy Tahiti, I am very happy to be in the much friendlier and significantly more economical New Zealand.

Despite high prices in Tahiti, I did score perfect waves of about 3-4 feet overhead for about two to three hours. Then all the fun came to a screeching halt when I pulled into the barrel, dug a rail, and came up with only the back half of my board. Bob and I later fetched the other half from the lagoon. Oh well, that's how it goes sometimes; plus I didn't like that board too much anyway.

Oversized Baggage
I found Bob to be an interesting character. This is a guy that literally packed up an inflatable zodiac boat, stuffed it into a box, put the engine in a separate crate, and somehow got it all on a plane to French Polynesia! I was dumbfounded, especially considering I was traveling with a board and backpack. It turns out he's a commercial fisherman that works hard when he works, saves his money, keeps his expenses down, and then just disappears to South Pacific islands for five or six months! The guy's a living legend and an example of how we should all live our lives.

United Nations Road Show
World travel is like a mobile United Nations meeting, only on the beach, in shorts, sipping a beer and eating seared ahi. I just said hello to everyone that crossed my path. I met about two dozen people from just about every corner of the globe, mostly people doing exactly what I'm doing. I soon realized that travelers are, spare none, some of the most honest people I've met. There's something of a tribal code that (almost) everyone obeys, something like a mutually respectful "do unto others" credo. Perhaps they understand the need for honesty given the fact they don't want to test the karmic wheel on the other side of the planet. If it isn't yours, leave it alone.

Imagine A World Without Possessions
Regarding personal possessions, I met an English traveler who'd spent quite a bit of time in Samoa. By the time he arrived in Tahiti, he was basically Samoan at heart. He even wore Samoan garb, walking around 24/7 with a sarong wrapped around him. He told me about how the Samoans have no concept of personal property. For example, you hang your shorts out on the line to dry and a while later you'll see someone else walking around wearing them. It's not outward theft; rather, whatever's on public display belongs to all. It's just a completely different social framework by which everyone operates. I could see in his eyes he was choked up, almost to tears, telling me about the Samoan family that had adopted him as one of their own.

New Zealand Arrival
I arrived to New Zealand last Tuesday via a flying tin time machine after crossing the international dateline. Monday really never happened for me. I only saw about four hours of Oct 5th! I arrived into Auckland and quickly caught a shuttle to a bus stop in Manukau where from which I would catch another bus to Raglan, the legendary left-hand kiwi pointbreak. While in the shuttle, i struck up a conversation with a South African woman now living in New Zealand. After five minutes of making each others' acquaintance, she kindly extended an invite to come stay at her home. She said she had three spare bedrooms and it would be a shame to let them all go to waste. I was shocked at such an altruistic gesture. This kind of thing just doesn't happen in the United States. Score one for South African Kiwis.

I Thought Kiwis Were Supposed To Be Friendly!
I caught a Little Green Kiwi Bus headed for Hamilton, where from which I originally planned to hop another bus to Raglan. I asked the driver if it was safe to hitchhike in New Zealand. He said I'd be fine and agreed to drop me off in Ngarawahia, about 18K outside of Hamilton. I got off and soon found myself standing on a remote street corner in a town with a Maori name I couldn't even pronounce! I'd always heard about how friendly the kiwis were, but for some reason, I couldn't get a lift to save my life. An hour later, I was still standing there trying to look as pathetic as possible hoping someone would feel sorry for me and give me a mercy ride. I was getting a little worried because it looked like rain was on the way. I found a public phone and called Jeremy at the Raglan Backpackers Lodge. I told him where I was and he reassured me I'd be fine.

Axe-murderer or Saint?
Eventually a nice Welsh guy named Bob stopped to offer a lift. We got talking and he asked me how long I'd been in New Zealand. I looked down at my watch and went, "uh, a few hours." He had a little chuckle to himself. Turns out he was on holiday from his job and was headed to Raglan anyway. I took in the raw beauty of New Zealand's majestic, sprawling green countryside. But the good vibes went bad when Bob's car stalled out for some unknown reason. For a moment, I wondered if this guy was an immigrant serial killer with a butcher knife hidden under his leg (he obviously wasn't or I wouldn't be writing this travelogue). We let the car sit for a bit and it did eventually start again. I started to relax again when all of a sudden the car sputtered out again. We sat for 25 minutes and did manage to get it running one last time.

Accommodations
I arrived at the meticulously well-maintained and modern Raglan Backpackers and Waterfront Lodge and was quickly made to feel at home by the owners Linda and Jeremy. Like in Tahiti, I soon found myself surrounded by an international mix of traveling surfers from the US, UK, Japan, Australia, and every corner of Europe. We all swapped surf tales and had a laugh at the idiosyncracies of our respective countries relative to each other.

Time Warp to 1950s America
A walk around "downtown" Raglan gave the feel of a 1950's America. It's a tight-knit little community where everyone knows everyone and each others' business. I observed plenty of friendly hellos on the street, kids playing in the local park corraled in by steep verdant countryside bespeckled with sheep. The day's positive mood was enhanced by a sky of blue canvas artistically punctuated by a few brushed stratus clouds. A light breath of breeze offered a mild respite from the warm temperatures. I swear, this place is utopia. It's all "no worries" here. In fact, that might even be the national motto, right up there with the equally popular, "good onya mate!"

Surf Culture
I donated my broken surfboard to a local Tahitian kid since they can repair them. I guess that was my karmic gift to the wave gods and hopefully a bargaining chip to be hedged against any future bad luck in the water. I went boad shopping in Raglan and immediately found the surf culture to be extremely friendly. It took me about an hour or so to find a good quality board at a fair price. No hassling at all.

Neptune Smiled
The following morning, Neptune returned the favor by blessing Raglan with perfect world-class surf. A father and son combo from Northern California gave me a lift to the beach. We pulled up to Whale Bay greeted by waves about four feet overhead and machine-like nature. We all surfed til our legs were weak as wet noodles. That was IT. I got what I came for. There was a supreme sense of satisfaction. All those years seeing this wave only in photos and I finally had a chance to surf it.

There's not much swell today, so that offers some needed time to relax and take in the stunning scenery again. This place is an absolute heavenly paradise. Put it on your list of places to visit and don't miss it. If you think you can't afford it; think again. You can't afford NOT to go!