Nelson, New Zealand, October 25, 2000

 

So here I am in the land of Kiwis, alive and even well. Currently I'm
sitting in an internet cafe and listening to a drum jam down the street.
It's sort of a crunchy town, "cruisy" as they say here, which I think
translates roughly to "laid-back."

It's been an amazing trip so far, and I'm not quite to the half-way point.
Even the inconveniences have had beautiful moments wrapped into them. Like
the day before yesterday when I locked my keys in the rental car I'm
driving...

Driving has been a bit tense for me, though I'm starting to ease into it.
The challenges of driving from the right side of the car and on the left side
of the road are augmented by roundabouts. There are details I never thought
of, though, like the fact that you have to learn to shift with your left
hand, and get used to looking left for the rearview mirror, and (this is
often comical) reach over your right shoulder for the seatbelt. It's funny,
I ride on the right side of the car in the states and reach over the right
shoulder, but something about driving makes me want to reach to the left.
Folks here say you can tell when the foreign drivers want to turn because
their windshield wipers are on, since the levers are on opposite sides. Quite
an education. :)

I barely caught the Ferry from the North Island to the South Island, and
landed in Picton after winding through the many islands that fill the bay
there. It's sort of like taking the Appalachians and flooding them. Lush
and green small islands rising from the water. Sort of, but not exactly.
When you look closer you see the Dr. Seussian gum trees rising above the
pines and the tree ferns that make you feel like you're a foot tall and
looking at a 'normal' fern in North Carolina.

So I drove out of Picton after a night's sleep and took the windy scenic road
along the coast. Every bit of it was brilliantly beautiful, but I managed to
last thirty minutes or so before I just had to pull over and gawk. The
little coves and beaches nestled between ridges of green mountain were too
much to believe. The sky was bright and clear and the water that shade of
aquamarine that, in spite of its name, I've mostly seen only in crayon boxes.

I must have been pretty thoroughly enchanted, because I slammed the door
behind me only to realize that my keys were inside. Bummer. Some German
tourists came over to be helpful, but we had no luck. Eventually I got a
ride back to town with a couple of highway workers, who offered to bring me
back up after I got a key at the rental agency. Complicating matters was the
fact that my digital camera was lying obviously exposed in the passenger
seat. My Taylor guitar was in the back, out of sight, and my airline
tickets, passport, money, etc. were all in the car. That made for a fairly
tense hour trip back to town.

Unfortunately, when we got to the rental place they said they didn't have a
spare key. That makes sense, in retrospect, since rental cars move around,
but it wasn't the news I was looking for. The guys gave me a ride back to
the car, and I waited for a key to be delivered by a man who works for the
rental company, after he drove to the NEXT town and got one made from the
code.

Of course this left me back at the car for an hour, waiting, and I couldn't
help but be grateful. I mean, of all the places to have to kill an hour!
There was a trail down to the cove that I had been staring at wistfully, and
I hiked down it to find I was all alone on an idyllic beach with gentle waves
and bright sunshine. I sat down on the smooth rocky sand and laughed out
loud. A bit of a nap and I wandered back up to the car. A few minutes later
the courier showed up and handed me the key with a quip about hoping it
worked.

It didn't.

So the locksmith had to come out himself. That was another forty minutes,
but life could be worse. He got into the car fairly quickly, and I was on my
way. With an extra key, no less, which now lives in my wallet.

I didn't have a show that night, but did have amazing hospitality waiting for
me at the home of my new friend Jared, who lives on an island just off the
coast with nothing on it but woods and sheep, a few cows and one other house.

It's shocking how much Jared's bookshelf and CD rack look like my own. He
lives by himself in a small house overlooking the sea and works certifying
organic farms in the area and teaching yoga, and plays a mean acoustic
guitar. Actually, a kind acoustic guitar. From where I sit, he's about got
life sussed, as they say here. I'll be back there on Saturday to spend some
time relaxing after a string of three gigs. We're talking about doing some
tramping (hiking) and/or a little sea kayaking. It's a dark and lonely job,
but somebody has to do it.

Meanwhile back in the U.S. all sorts of wacky things are going on. Like the
fact that "Unknown the Great: The Life and Times of Buddy Schmcghee," a movie that I starred in and made with my friends Paul Dowler and Joe Lunne, just got into the Berkeley film festival. It will be screened during the weekend
of Nov. 18 & 19 in Berkely, so if you're out that way, go see it on the big
screen! Paul's currently living in L.A. working in TV and both he and Joe
have extensive film-making resumes, so they actually knew what they were
doing and we had a ball making the movie. We'll have it for sale soon on
this site, and there's more information here, if you want to check it out.

Oh, and speaking of mass media, I got to be on Good Morning New Zealand, a
national broadcast very much like Good Morning America, last Friday. I
played Shadows, and managed not to blow it. I didn't get an interview, but
did have some folks show up at my gig last night because they saw me on TV.
Pretty cool.

Life is good, friends. Thanks for giving me the foundation and the
encouragement to believe that I could head off for a crazy tour like this.
I'm already making plans to return to Australia and New Zealand around April
2002.

There's so much to tell, but it's already a long note, so I'll sign off for
now. Peace to you,

David