Merge Like a Zip

Now that we're getting more comfortable riding on the left side of the road, we're having more fun taking in the signage, like the one coming into the rotary at Taupo. Merge like a zip. Really does make sense, doesn't it? Too bad the Russians couldn't figure it out in time to follow instructions, but no harm done.

Then there are the one-lane bridges. All over the place. Every dozen miles or so. Through a complicated system of street signs involving opposing arrows, and triangles and lines painted in the road, it's very obvious who has the right of way. And in this land of endless twisties, every one is marked with an appropriate speed. Whether you're able to go faster or slower than that, you at least have a clear indication of what's ahead. Learning to trust that signage has enabled me to pick up my speed considerably.

We're having a bunch of fun with the rest of the group as we get to know each other better. One source of amusement and amazement has been the food. Like the ice cream a few days ago, the mussels here are radioactive. Green lipped mussels, however, taste just like the ones at home.

Coffee is an art form, in description and in presentation. If you just order a cup of coffee, you'll get instant. Nuf said. If you're lucky, you'll find filter coffee (like just plain brewed), but more often your choices will be long black, flat white, latte bowl, etc. These are all variations on a very stark espresso. If you get anything with milk in it, you'll be served a beautiful art piece with designs swirled into the foam. Chris says that's a competition here between cafés, to see who can serve the most complicated design. David had a maple leaf yesterday, but he sipped it before I could get a picture.

And then there are the possums. Screaming, tears running down your face, fun every day with these little guys, even the flat fauna variety. A possum here isn't a big ugly rat with a naked tail, but rather a fluffy little beast that looks like a racoon got frisky with a meerkat. Their fur is lovely, soft, and weaveable, and is often combined with merino for heavenly sweaters. I bought one of these yesterday. The Russians bought huge possum blankets, and Warner gave them each a hide with tail. We suspect they're trying to work out a way to hunt them, but the language barrier has its own challenges.

Like the challenge of making my new hair glove stay put. A gift from Warner's wife, Lisa, it's lovely, but I think I'll either have to grow more hair (like another couple months' worth) or cut off a couple inches from the glove. All in good fun.

Today we head over the mountains to Queenstown, where we'll have a day off before the last two days of riding. Do we REALLY have to go back to the land of whiteout?