chasing the sun

Some photos first:

There are huge dunes at Ahipara, near the equator, where it's still warm. If you climb the dunes with your sled, you think, well behind them the bush starts. But you can leave your sled at the slope and walk, dune after dune, and after hours you turn back and you can't find the sled because you walked slightly to the left.
The saltwater wind makes sculptures out of the iron-containing sand.

I 'Squee!' when I was told this: The art deco capital of the world is in New Zealand! I will be there when they make their festival. Till then, look at this:

I also heared of the 'kiwi burn', NZ's equivalent to 'burning man'. They look for volunteers, I'll keep that on the screen.

I whould like to thank Jonas for reminding me of Stefan Molyneux, whose podcasts about all fields of philosophy from his point of view (rational and logic). He explains why the scientific method is preferable to other means of aquiring information/knowledge. He applies his findings to leprachauns, gods and governments. He never wants the listener to believe what he says, he merely uses logic steps for people to agree or disagree with. I agree with them (so far). He explained that being agnostic is basically being a coward that doesn't want to upset his parents/relatives too much.
I am an atheist. If something does not have matter or energy or interacts with matter or energy, it does not exist. This is why I always liked the natural sciences, because they answered questions based on observations, not based on 'it can't be observed, but it is like that'.
That is very basic, if you are interested, listen to the podcast.

Some more photos, the bizarrchitecture of the metro building in Auckland:

 

Khlav Kalash! (actually 'gamja' or 'ugly hotdog') German frankfurter covered in korean pancake dough covered with potato pieces that turn into french fries when the whole thing is deep fried for five minutes.

You figure it out.

Mobi

I longed for the world beyond the concrete monolith, unbeknownst to the vast riches I had. Only the world beyond could awake the appreciation these riches deserved. I long for the ivory tower and its challenges, its opportunities.

Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy it here, but damn are some people in the real world stupid. Even compared to the most narrow-minded person you might find in an office or a laboratory.

A pamphlet concerning the work and travel visa told me not to call home when in a down phase, because whoever I talk to will assume that the state of mind he witnessed during the conversation is my usual one. I don't call, but I post here. When Everything is great I don't even get to think about posting, or anything that needs to be written down, If there is a gap, which always happens sooner or later, I scribble down some enigmatic babble for you to chew on.

Also, the autumn kicked in. I didn't have a springtime for over a year now, but instead it is getting cold(ish) and the leaves are falling. Even at Ahipara, which is about as far north as it gets. But then, I should not complain about three-layers-of-clothing-weather.

The time passes with walks along the coast and hills, listening to political philosophy by Stefan Molinyeux (www.freedomainradio.com) and playing monopoly with other (german) people. Germans are found everywhere. Turns out we took over the world after all.

Mobi

Catching up

\paragraph{21.03.12}
In the middle of the night, I woke up because of an intense pain at the right big toenail, which has been getting worse the last few days. I must have turned around in my sleep and strucked something with that toe. The rest of the night, I sat in the kitchen with my foot submerged in cold water, surfing via a free wifi someone left on. The pain shows what I am inside, an unfriendly elbow person. I was not very polite to the women at the hostel counter when I asked for the next doctor. The Worknholiday office explains via phone that I have to pay the doctor and send the receipts to the insurance company in Germany. The doc charges 70 dollars via his desk staff and cuts quite a bite of nail and infected flesh out of the toe with one of those surgical miniature bird feast scissors. Hurts even more than the wake-up call. But afterwards, it's much better. He wants to prescribe antibiotics, but after me asking for less heavy artillery he gives me the receipt for an antibiotical ointment. I thank him and go for a fast-food breakfast. Later, I start writing my log on the pc in the hostel and some notes on a podcast about anarcho-pacifictic capitalism.

\paragraph{22.03.12}
With my toe treated and not much sleep yesterday, I slept long and good. I take a walk to Tauranga and ask various pawnshops if they want to buy my used netbook, but they won't take a chinese import. This hostel makes me watch too much tv and just now someone asks how much time I spent in front of a screen, and I answer "too much".

\paragraph{23.03.12}
A slow and silent day with a walk along the beach and the town.

\paragraph{24.03.12}
I walk to Tauranga to put "for sale" notes on the hostel boards to sell my netbook. At the Loft 109 a woman is interested in the netbook, but I don't have it with me, and she tells me that if it works, she'll buy it if I bring it around. I tell her I whould return later today or tomorrow. On my way back, a bearded byciclist coming towards me stopped and asked where I was from. When I said "Germany", he complimented my english and proceeded to tell me that the pope whould die soon and the new one whould be from Belgium. He whould turn against the Vatican. America whould retreat from Irak, Iran whould attack Irak and Russia whould step in. Obama whould be replaced with a new black president, he even gave me a name. Putin whould want to go to heaven, and after he whould have heared the voice of Jesus telling him to push the button, he whould start WWIII and by then, I should be in the southern hemisphere. It whould happen in the end of August 2012 and I should watch for the Belgium pope and the other signs. I said I had to get going, so he wished me a good day and cycled off. This feels like it belongs to the dream section.

\paragraph{25.03.12}
I walked to Tauranga and sold the netbook for 80 dollars. 100 percent win. I preorder the last 300 dollar netbook at Dicksmith but can't take it with me because the battery is missing. I leave my mobile number. On my way back, I visit various work agencies and leave my number. Business seems not good these days. I ask at a place where old TEU-containers are remodeled into easy-transportable and fast-to-build houses, but the office is run by one man. I head to the hostel.

\paragraph{26.03.12}
Lazy day, short walk to the beach, lying in the sand.

\paragraph{27.03.12}
Since I am waiting for my netbook, I decide to stay for another week. I walk to the small hill near Mt. Maunganui, the peninsula and the beach. I see an advertisment for a weekly poker tournament later that day and get back there to play. I am the second person to loose his chips.

\paragraph{28.03.12}
I want to visit Dicksmith for my netbook, but choose a new route. I walk along the beach towards the second bridge to Tauranga when Jonas calls. We chat about what I am doing and what's new with the Anglophilic Cineast's Social Club. I describe my position for him to find on Google Maps. Later, I cross the narrow bay not on the intended car bridge but on the railway bridge I didn't know to have a pedestrian sidewalk. It takes me directly to the center of Tauranga. At Dicksmith, the battery has not arrived and they won't sell the netbook without it.

\paragraph{29.03.12}
I take a walk along the beach to the peninsula to climb along the rocks and chill and think. I realise that I like the rocks because they lack right angles.

\paragraph{30.03.12}
I walk along the beach and visit the peninsula. I really like the place.

\paragraph{31.03.12}
I take a walk along the beach. Today, many people are coming the opposite way. At a tent I ask two people handing out water to the walkers about all that, they explain that it is a charity walk for something. The main thing is past the peninsula. A hiphop group and a singer are performing, giant cheques are handed over by the Rotary Club and other councils. I meet the most uncanny mascot costume so far: a human in a human costume. Sleeves with gloves resembling bare arms and hands, a big head with a cap. Uncanny. There also is a bbq, I eat a sausage with onions. As I walk back, the microphone guy says his last thanks. I tell him to announce that there are delicious sausages left, which he does. At the rocks beside the peninsula, I meet two of the guys I flew here with, they are in the same hostel this night. I climb the small hill near the peninsula, but as the shadow of the mountain falls on me, I get cold and go . As I cook rice, I talk to a german guy whom I have given advice on a laptop purchase some days ago. We discuss movies and how they are usually copying stories, themes and styles.

\paragraph{01.04.12}
I had the revelation that I am in charge of every aspect of my life, thus I bought bacon and eggs for breakfast. I also found a book on overcoming your fear in the shelf, "Feel the fear and do it anyway". It breaks fears down to three levels, the first being the obvious fear of a situation or action, the second being states of mind causing the level above and the third level, causing the second, being "I can't handle it". This is surprisingly overlapping my philosophy about adulthood, about which I'll write more once that damn laptop battery arrives in Tauranga. On the beach, as I used shells to dig holes to bury the very same shells in, I invented the Karma Mine, a small sandcastle with a shell splinter inside to deliver karma to people enjoying the trampling of sandcastles.

\paragraph{02.04.12}
Since it rained, I cancelled my plan to walk to Tauranga to ask for my battery.

\paragraph{03.04.12}
Because of the stormy weather, the waves were high and reached the dunes. At the peninsula, the waves were shooting high into the air, spraying the spectators with delicious salt water. The entry to the peninsula was temporarily inaccessible due to the high and far reaching waves. At the evening, I played poker again. This time, we were 13 players. I make it to the final table with eight players, but loose as first of them.

\paragraph{04.04.12}
Today I take a picture of the Work-and-Travel participation paper and mail it to Jonas for the AStA. Yesterdays plan of taking a walk to Tauranga is postponed due to rain.

\paragraph{05.04.12}
After watching Pirates! in 3d, with me being the only person in the cinema, I walk up the beach, along the railroad tracks, over the railway bridge to Tauranga. The same route I took a few days ago. The battery still is not there and the used electronics and pawn shops have no netbooks either. I order Atlas Shrugged in a bookstore, and say to myself that I should leave after whatever item is delivered first.

\paragraph{06.04.12}
A days journey to the mountain. I took the reverse of the route I took last time I was in Tauranga. At the summit, I meet some guys from the hostel, I take a picture of them with their expensive looking camera. The view is great, it is raining in the distance. As it approaches, two rainbow segments can be seen. As it starts to rain, people rush down the mountain, but I take my time, waiting under the trees during the heavier rain.

\paragraph{07.04.12}
meh.

\paragraph{08.04.12}
Walk to the peninsula, walk back over the beach. I build a small dam with a shell at low tide.

\paragraph{09.04.12}
I cut a shovel out of an old plastic bottle and go to the beach to build a bigger dam than yesterday. A kid sees my construction with a small detour chanel for water and copies it down the beach with the very water from my channel. He learned a valuable lesson about the free market and the guy with the bigger dam and strategic water reserve. As I walk to the hostel, I realize that the high flood that night took away the driftwook that marked my exit. In Europe, every beach has bunkers for orientation.

\paragraph{10.04.12}
With cookies for the poker game later, I head to the peninsula to watch the waves on the rocks. There is a group of teens, offering me booze and ask me if I smoke weed or snort crushed pills. They do. I politely refuse and offer them cookies in return. After a time, a guy with a tripod and a huge camera moves into position on the rocks to capture the sunset. We talk, it turns out that he, Phil, founded his own postcard company with better-than-average motivs he shoots himself. I tell him about my vague idea of one day having my own cinema in Bielefeld. He says that since he founded his company, he ends up doing the paperwork instead of photographing, but he made it despite not having had any management knowledge at the beginning. He says that you just have to "dive into it". At the poker game, I loose before we get to the final table. For the night, I had to change rooms to one filled with Argentinians who like to get drunk and return late every damn evening and leave the lights on. Also, the morning sun keeps me from sleeping in the mornings because it shines through windows in the roof without anything like a curtain.

\paragraph{11.04.12}
I walk to Tauranga to ask for my netbook battery and search for one at the pawnshop and used electronics store. The guy there says that tomorrow he will have a netbook for 320 dollars.

\paragraph{12.04.12}
In Tauranga, I buy the damn netbook. It has a bios, so far so good. But the Linux distribution does not recognize the hard disk drive. That evening, I experience the old why-does-nothing-I-try-work madness.

\paragraph{13.04.12}
I checked out of the Pacific Coast Lodge to finally get on with it and travel along the bay of plenty. In Tauranga, I ask for the bus connections. One leaves at 1400, in about half an hour. But I want to take one last shot, so I ask if it drives on saturdays, too (it does) and book a night at a hostel in Tauranga and go to the it guys at Techology Wise that tried to help me with the last netbook. They can't, so I try to give it back or exchange it for a Thinkpad. He agrees, but the laptops weight makes me change my mind and return to Technology Wise. They keep the netbook for extensive scanning of the drives, so I walk along and return about two hours later. They change the settings of the drives from "compatible" to "native" and Linux recognizes them. Success! We install Mint 12 and I partake in their friday evening sit-in with beer and chips. Michael Doerner, the director who came here 15 jears ago from Germany wishes me the best of luck and gives me his card, in case I get into trouble or they want to throw me out of the country. Maybe it was the euphoric feeling about the working netbook, but that sounded like half an invitation to send a resumee. Now I sit in the lobby of the Rialto cinema and type. Addendum: In the hostel, we played poker with 4 people. I talked to a guy from Singapore about innovation, ideas, letting more intelligent people work for you and various ways to succeed with a great idea. He told me about thebcc.co.nz, an innovation contest. I noted that I made a big mistake for a hitchhiker: I lost my towel, it was propably still at the Pacific Coast Lodge.

\paragraph{14.04.12}
I checked out the hostel, stored my bag at the i-site and walked to the supermarket to replace the lost towel. I felt euphoric at the prospect of being on the move again. I took the bus to Whakatane and checked in at the Windsor BBH hostel. I had a first look at the mountains. In the evening, I realized that I forgot my mobile phone charger at the Pacific Coast Lodge in Mt Maunganui. Also, the german guy staying there was quite a downer. He studied geology and has no further ambition than to get a job to pay the bills. No hobbies other than the usual "doing stuff with my friends". He called American Pie Reunion a worthy sequel to the series. He does not watch animated kid's movies and won't ride the OGO at Rotorua, his next destination, because he doesn't think it whould be fun for him. A man with principles and opinions of things he never tried rather than a person who decides case-to-case and a sense of empirism.

\paragraph{15.04.12}
I went on the full-day hiking trip around the area, with beautiful scenery in a kiwi-repopulation rainforest. When I reached the beach at the other side of the mountain range, it was already quite late, so I ate there and hitched a lift back to town.

\paragraph{16.04.12}
Today I went on the other half of yesterday's hiking trip, which had an even better scenery. A beautiful look down on the town, the small harbour and the pacific with its small and big islands in it. At one point, I stand at a high cliff and have a full 180 degree view of ocean and far, far horizon. Later, I discover that the spot labelled 'impassible at one hour at ether side of high tide' is a beautiful beach that is flooded every high tide. Instead of sand, there are small and smooth shell pieces that sound and feel what it must be like to walk on gold coins. There also are piles of driftwood that rattle like bones in old pirate movies when jumped in. There is a small river flowing into the ocean, I climb over large pieces of driftwood and follow the stream behind a large boulder, where I discover a small sand bank almost surrounded by rock. There is one main waterfall, but the other walls are dripping with water, too. The sound is unique. I climb up the boulder next to the waterfall and see some natural ponds constantly filled and emptied by small waterfalls. Back on the beach, I climb a tree that fell off the mountain long ago and hangs over the place where the water vanishes into the beach. The place is a paradise. Later that day, after a hitched ride back home, I get really homesick and think about calling someone. Instead, I just surf around facebook a bit and play a whole year of dwarf fortress. It feels bad immediatly after switching it off. I somehow miss the Pacific Coast Lodge. I stayed there for almost four weeks and in the end, it was horrible. But I guess I somehow got accustomed to it. I got homesick for a place I don't even like. Maybe whatever place we call home is just that, a place we got accustomed to. Humans don't like change, don't like the unusual, the new. Thus, they long for 'home'.

\paragraph{18.04.12}
I walk around town a bit and climb to a viewpoint to oversee the city. It looks like civilisation barfed the city between the trees. I take the bus to Okotipi and check in at a hostel with germans in it. I immediatly get in touch with the people, there is even a movie nerd amongst them. I have a long conversation in which I share some of the ideas I had earlier this trip. It was refreshing to finally talk to normal people again. The question is, does the nz-trip stimulate my brain to countless ideas because I have noone to give me proper feedback, for better or for worse? Or is it just the lack of possibilities to numb the brain with aimless surfing and videogames? I don't know. Propably both. They tell me about a small birthday party at the beach, with a driftwood fire. I ask if I can join, which is no problem. We drive to the beach and sit around the fire with eight people, talking. It was very vitalising.

\paragraph{19.04.12}
I am informed that the people in the hostel are waiting for the late kind of kiwifruit to accumulate enough sugar to be picked. I join them waiting. I explore the city a bit to find out it is quite far from anything. There is a cinema, but it only opens on weekends, the local bookstore can only get me an abridged version of 'atlas shrugged', and even that takes two weeks. Dinner is rice and chicken.

\paragraph{20.04.12}
We cycle around town. Felix and Frieder show me a spot at the river with a slide and ropeswing, but the water is too damn cold.

\paragraph{21.04.12}
The kiwis have a disease and were dusted with something, so we can't pick until the level of whatever poison they were dusting is low enough to send in the pickers. Dinner is rice and chicken.

\paragraph{22.04.12}
Felix, Frieder, Christina and I made a day trip to Whakatane, the town where I was last. We visit the swimming pool and the Pak'n Save megamart.

\paragraph{23.04.12}
Whatever. Dinner is rice and chicken.

\paragraph{24.04.12}
Christina and Frieder get a job in the packhouse because they are sick of waiting. The same day, Felix and I are called to start picking. We pick from 12 to 17 at 15 dollars per hour. Picking is hard, but the same mindless task is quite meditative. After we're done, we celebrate one of the colleagues birthday with hamburgers from the hostel bbq grill.

\paragraph{25.04.12}
It is the national memorial day for both world wars. The only day except christmas when everything is closed. Felix and I get an early call to pick kiwis from 09 to 17, with 50 percent holiday pay on top. Picking itself drives me close to insane. One of the indian guys has no earphones, so he listens to his three-song playlist with speakers. All of the songs are bollywood-esque indian songs. Try to listen to that for hours and hours. Dinner is rice and chicken.

\paragraph{26.04.12}
Picking from 09 to 15. Imagine a basket the size of a microwave in front of your stomach, its weight resting on your shoulders. You fill it with kiwis that grow on vines between my shoulder height and one head above mine. I have a good size for this. The vines are suspended on wooden structures and metal wires. When the basket is filled, you stomp to the next tractor. They have a hanger with four large wooden bins. The bottom of your basket can be opened and you slowly release the kiwis into the bin. When your bag is filled, you empty it. When the bins are filled, another tractor takes the last ones place. When you reach the end of one field lane, you go under the next one. Today we stop early because of the rain. Not that they are concerned about the pickers, but the kiwi get injured when they are wet.

\paragraph{27.04.12}
Picking starts later because of rain at night.

\paragraph{28.04.12}
Free day. Two of our german picking mates, Philip and Timo, come over to play risk. Felix and I have been playing it for some days with Frieder, but he is not very good at strategy games and three is not enough anyway. With four players, it is fun, but Volker, the hostel owner, throws them out because it is getting late and they don't pay any rent here.

\paragraph{29.04.12}
Picking again, but again later than nine in the morning because of night rain. Felix and I consider the packhouse instead of the kiwi picking. Bunty, our contractor, a sexist indian, finally gives me my contract for picking.

\paragraph{30.04.12}
You remember the first kiwi you pick. Then the kiwis blur. You remember the first bag you empty. Then the bags blur. You remember the first tractor change. Then the tractors blur. You remember the first break you take. Then the breaks blur. You remember the first field row you finish. Then the rows blur. You remember the end of the first workday. Then the days blur.

\paragraph{01.05.12}
Bunty texts us that there is no work today. So Felix and I cycle to the packhouse where we get paperwork and the grand tour around the facilities. We don't have work, we loose a job and we get a job, alles am Tag Der Arbeit.

\paragraph{02.05.12}
The packhouse is less backbone breaking than the picking. We work in a large hall that is cooled for the kiwifruit. It is dominated by a large transport line. At one side of the hall, it is loaded with the kiwis from the very bins I filled before. They have an automatic quality control, are sorted by size and labelled individually before they rush onto the transport line and are distributed to smaller transport lines beneath, which bring the fruit to the first of the jobs I am taught, the packer. That is what I do today. I count an amount of kiwis, depending on the package size, into boxes that are delivered by a transport line beneath the kiwi line. Box after box. After that, the wrapper takes the box and closes the plastic inlay and the box itself. Then, the stackers label the box and stack it onto the right pallet. These are transported out of the hall by forklifts to be loaded onto the very trucks that brought the bins. Or others, I don't know. We discuss the disney propaganda video 'der fuehrers face' because the monotone work with kiwis reminds us of it. Also, the intro to 'lord of war' will now look different to me. Book and movie 'fight club' refer to this sort of worker as 'space monkey'. press a button, pull a lever, do one job only, do it perfect, do it without knowing what the big picture is.

\paragraph{03.05.12}
Second day. Other than picking, the workhours are consistent, so we get up at six in the morning again. Workhours are from seven to five thirty. With an unpaid break, that is ten hours of 13,50 dollars per hour plus holiday pay minus tax. Everyone knows the tax rate, but everyone gives me a different number. After work, Frieder drives Felix and me to Bunty because thursdays is payday for the prior week. His 'secretary', aka his buddy who knows about numbers, is not there yet, so he offers us a beer. I refuse, but Felix drinks three 0.3 liter bottles of 5\% in under twenty minutes and is quite funny afterwards. Also, we need to hurry home because he needs to go to the toilet. I tell him about waterfalls, how the video store there sure has customer toilets and inception of ideas. Do not think of pink elephants. Who are peeing. He was pissed (figuratively).

\paragraph{04.05.12}
For lunchbreak, we get a chinese buffet. Some say that it is to celebrate another million of pallets loaded, others know that it is the reward for working last saturday, which normally is our free day. Since this is my third day, I don't care and enjoy it. We also pack a small amount of a new variety of kiwi, the red kiwi. We are told not to take any of those out of the building. Back home, I tell Felix about the buffet and the red kiwis. He was not there because of a cold.

\paragraph{05.05.12}
Our free day. I launder my stuff (for free, Felix had to pay five bucks, maybe they ask me later) and argue with Felix wether or not to tramp to Whakatane and watch 'the avengers' movie. I lost my motivation to convince people of stuff I want to do. Maybe it's the work, or I just become a nicer person. Fat chance. We stay at the hostel and waste our free day on the net. In the afternoon, we go to Franzi's and Sebi's place to party and eat self-made pizza. We get to bed to late.

\paragraph{06.05.12}
Work was hell today. I don't know wether it was the short night sleep, the noise and mindless pop music, the packing job that requires me to stand at one spot for hours and made my knee kill me or the bile-rich daydream about me being back at the abi-reunion and rubbing my (imaginary) success in everyones face. Propably all of the above. I ask for ear protection, which numbs down the noises but the pop music still gets through. They numb their brains with pop everywhere. At work, during breaks, at the beach, when walking or jogging, all the time. The ubiquitous mundanity of pop music is their Brawndo. Horrible day.

\paragraph{07.05.12}
I wish I had a mind reading machine. I could extract my thoughts without the restraints typed words whould give them. I could send you 'newestcrazythought.thnk' and you could use your machine to rethink it. The factory work makes my mind wander.

\paragraph{08.05.12}
Today, I quit my job. My knee, or rather my inflammation is killing me. Also, the mindless pop music on the too loud radio there was making me deaf and dumb. I'm going back to Bunty and kiwi picking. I can listen to audiobooks and podcasts. Also, I can sleep longer and work in natural light and fresh air. My talent to find arguments for everything is working with me. I'll write another essay about this. Also, Jonas just called back so I could tell him about 'dr-horrible's sing-along blog', which Felix recommended. He reminds me of freedomainradio.com, a philosophical podcast he recommended to me before I left Germany. I download some episodes to listen to while picking. Also, the letter from my family arrives. It is a good feeling to read excerpts about the normal life at home.

\paragraph{09.05.12}
Due to rain, there is no work today. Instead of buying headphones for the podcast, I slack the day away.

\paragraph{10.05.12}
Felix spontaneously takes a day off. We hitchhike to Whakatane to watch 'avengers'. The hike back is divided into three parts.

\paragraph{11.05.12}
At the orchard, I bite myself in the ass for not buying headphones in two days time. The price I pay is listening to mindless pop music yet again. In the evening, I upload my essay collection to my blog.

\paragraph{12.05.12}
I borrow Christina's headphones to listen to Stefan Molyneux' podcast. I start with his audiobook 'on truth: the tyranny of illusion'. A great book. Listening to mind-boggeling implications makes fruitpicking a lot more lighthanded. In the evening, we meet at Sebi's place for Christina's fare well party. We drive to the beach and make a fire from driftwood one last time. We took bread dough and marshmallows with us.

\paragraph{13.05.12}
Kiwipicking starts more early today because of rain predictions. It ends at about four o'clock. The stores are closed, so no time to buy headphones yet again.

\paragraph{14.05.12}
picking with the relief of stefan molineux whispering great logical conclusions into my ear.

\paragraph{15.05.12}
same

\paragraph{16.05.12}
Free day, I take the bus to Whakatane and watch the avengers again. Joss Whedon finally takes back the throne that was taken from him by fox.

\paragraph{17.05.12}
picking. Yay.

\paragraph{18.05.12}
Instead of picking, I go pruning, aka cutting the branches of the kiwi plants that are dying because of the kiwi plant disease. The cut is covered with a blue copper paste. I am told that it is harmless, but a view on the bottle makes my supervisor driving to town and buying rubber gloves. I wear a t-shirt that gets some paste. I am told that the paste is not washable.

\paragraph{19.05.12}
Today we threw large plastic bags in a seven meter deep hole and buried them. In the bags were the disease-affected branches. I also got to drive the large quad we use to haul the branches, chainsaw and the other tools.

\paragraph{20.05.12}
Pruning again. It is cold since I wear the same t-shirt to avoid blue paste on other clothing. Under it are three other layers of clothing, but it is still cold. I think about going to the ninty mile beach, which is up north, the most northern point of the main island.

\paragraph{21.05.12}
Pruning again. I decided that I quit and go up north to chase me some warm weather. Hot shower after work.

\paragraph{22.05.12}

Today I ordered my papers and packed my stuff which was spreaded all throughout the hostel. I inquire about busses and call Bunty about an official paper stating that I worked for him from then to then.

Feast on my dreams

Who am I to keep my crazyness for myself? Since I wrote these down immediatly after waking up, don't expect the syntax to make sense. In fact, don't expect anything to make sense.

\paragraph{23.03.12}
I was in a temple-city (inspired by the movie The Last Airbender) and friend of a rebel who fought the police. He wore a guy-Fawkes-Mask (V?). I was fleeing over the main plaza down the gigantic steps of water-pools in which the rebels were hiding. They told me about a small second entrance at the side of the pyramid. I found it, but someone who ran in there was instantly shot, so I ran on. Suddenly V was behind me, and the police behind him was wearing masks, too. Somehow he changed places with me, now he was the one chased. I went after him and got him into a shallow pond with a thick layer of leaves on it. Next, I wake up in his wagon/trailer, with a girl who works with him is drilling a small hole in my head to remove a piece of police equipment planted there. This scene I see as a third person, as I take a look inside the skull, I see vast amounts of bones and bullets. The girl asked me what that was all about, but I told her that this was none of her business. She closed the hole with a bullet and left. I followed, but at the caravans exit, a dog the size of a chihuaua stopped me and told me how I ruined the whole operation. A bigger dog and a teenage boy were Vs other roommates. When V and the girl left trough a shining portal in the wall, I had a look around, the caravan stood in the middle of a meadowed nowhere. The boy took a canister of milk to a circular pond and dived into it. I followed him and discovered a rope-system he clicked himself to and descended. I followed and found that beneath the meadows, there was a huge well-lit underwaterworld. The boy put the milk into a shopping cart with other canisters and went on to some underwater shacks, holding his breath. The shacks were a market, where one could buy dvds, air for breathing and other stuff. I tried a ride where I was strapped to the center of some wood wheels which were turned fast enough to create a center of air to breathe around me.

\paragraph{08.04.12}
Everyone was flying to New Zealand in a huge plane to visit me. I flew back with them. At the airport, I could see the only plane bigger than ours, a disk-like vehicle with a single oval jet engine underneath it. It was capable of spacetravel, ours wasn't. On the plane, we talked. As we arrived, the town was deserted except for a meeting hall where someone who made a mediocre movie got a prize for it. He had used the absence of everybody to reward it to himself. I realized that my visa was not due for another six months and that I should have stayed in New Zealand. I planned on flying back there.

\paragraph{20.04.12}
Some friends and I were building killer robots to be chased by them for amusement. We fled through a labyrinth with different rooms, the first one being a porcellain store. I took a spatula and slashed the head of one of the robots off, it was made of porcellain, too. It kept walking, so I shattered it completely to shreds. Then the situation went out of control as they started decimating our group. We were soon centered in a living room with them approaching. They saw where we were because the walls didn't reach the ground and they could see our feet. They cut through the walls with lasers.

\paragraph{27.04.12}
An alien landed on earth. It was about teacup-dog big, but very dangerous with psychic powers. Soldiers carried it around in a mirrored sphere so noone could see it. Because of their nature as soldiers, they made it kill random civillians for their amusement. It learned to use its powers for destruction. When it was about to be transfered to another sphere filled with acid, it had a misscarriage, escaped and went on a rampage around the globe, literally leaving a moat of destruction behind. The newborn alien survived and was quite friendly, but knew it was superior to humans. It let me follow the trail of its parent, eventhough it casually confirmed my concern that sooner or later its parent whould order it to kill me. We climbed through the moat that led through rainforest and big cities. When I saw a bridge, I knew there were survivors beneath it, so I asked the alien to chip the entrance off, sealing them so the parent whould not find them. By then, I somehow had become the batman. As we went past, it was shown that there really were humans under the bridge. The dream deteriorated into some animated movie about batman and the aliens, after what I hoped was the last scene, the lights in the cinema went on and the credits were cut as I experienced before in a NZ cinema. I was dissappointed by the movie, because somehow I hoped for 'the avengers' but got an animated batman instead.

I was playing a new fun sport. My team was standing in a row behind each other, I was at the end of the line. We and the enemy team ran towards each other with spraypaint cans. The objective was to spray paint over the eyes of the other players. When we were out of cans for our last match, I took a plastic cup with water instead, but before the start, I asked our paintguy again and he gave me a can with orange paint and a plastic nozzle shaped like an axe. We had to run a whole lap because the last enemy player had a penalty and did not run towards us. I sprayed a line over her eyes and another one from her forehead to her chin, painting an orange cross. I yelled, and the teammates joined the sound. I was approached by a reporter who asked me how I felt, about the sport and our chances as a team. I mentioned our outsider chances from the beginning on, and that the sport is just great fun. In retrospect, it is like the middle ground between 'ultimate tazer ball' and 'jugger'. I remember now: the water used in the tournament ruined the zipper of my wallet. It did not close and the teeth were standing in all directions. When I dried it, they closed but became three times the size and were quite heavy.

\paragraph{14.05.12}
I was inside a spacious space station. The task of me and the others were to control our robotic doubles, but I didn't get to do that because it was too much fun floating around in microgravity. I had a device on my belt that somehow allowed me to turn my body in mid-air without touching the walls. When I turned it off, I had little control as long as no walls were in reach. I guess that is the other reason why the ISS has narrow corridors. In the station, there was also the prototype of a spy robot the size of an eyeball. It floated around us sometimes. We gave it a name and made it our space-compatible pet.

\paragraph{15.05.12}
camera pan along the counter of a high class coffee shop. A commercial. A voice said something like: "Do you know who made one hell of a *coffee variation I forgot*? Hitler. You will never know how he did it. You will crave to be teached by him. But since you can't, we will." It was a commercial for becoming a barista at that coffee shop./ The penguins of madagascar were in the sewers, getting into their vehicle, a large suv. They drove to a mall and around in it. When they crashed through a wall, they were hurled into the air and flew in slow motion along an aisle with tuna sandwiches, glazed donuts and other delicious snacks. When they landed and drove on, I saw that they flew across the back of a patisserie in the mall. They came across a large twisted tower structure. By then, I was driving. I drove up the structure and when it ended, I drove on and we fell into the high class coffee shop. I helped to remove the biggest chunks of debris and asked if I could somehow repay for what I did. They said, of course, you can work here. I was brought to the kitchen in the basement, where the dishes were brought via ramps and the food was transported from with transport lines. Behind a retractable wooden wall there was an old dog in a chair. He explained that he was some sort of a mafia boss. Yes, he took protection money from the stores, but he still claimed to be a good dog in the grand scheme of things. He offered me a job as a barista./ I was driving to my parents home in a limousine after my journey. They welcomed me and made a party. When I was in the kitchen, I realized that the year could not possibly be over, so I asked my father what month it was. He said it was february, but he was obviousy lying. My subconscience lies to me. I was told that Jonas was on his way to see me. He, too, arrived in a limousine. I thought, maybe through his projection I can make a conversation with my subconscience. When he arrived, he had a different face and voice, despite being still him. For some reason, I could not talk to him.

OK, going to New Zealand was a good decision.
Said the dust speck.

If you can read this, leave a comment just so I know I am not talking to myself here. If I get three comments within 24 hours, I give you an excerpt of my dream log. Also, trips names my hat.

Wrong board. Have some photos.

 vlnr: Franzi, Christina, Felix, (Phillip und Timo), Frieder, Sebi und Ich. vgl.

I still can't upload .zip, so no more photos for you. Maybe tomorrow.

Mobi

ps. felix' travel blog

The doctor was right when he predicted to my parents that I whould never make my money with my hands labor. I'm not designed for it. Also, just as I started to make firm decisions, they all feel wrong. What am I doing in New Zealand? Why am I kiwipicking? Why did I trade picking with packing? Why did I trade back? I guess the grass is always greener, or: the job that's not currently breaking my spine or knee is the better choice.

Tomorrow I'll spam my application to every cinema on the north island. Counter, office, the guy cutting the movie reels and inserting single porno movie frames into disney movies, whatever job is available.

Since you are not commenting, some more essays. Note: an essay is a writing experiment during which you write whatever comes to your mind. It can result in anything. Even religious clusterfuck.

"A mindless worker is a happy worker. The reason I can't find happiness while picking or packing kiwi is because I have too much mind. One's inner child has to die to accept a day-to-day, a minute-to-minute routine. But mine won't die, it hits puberty and rebels against routine. I needed six semesters of biotechnology studies, one week of kiwi picking and two weeks of kiwi packing to get sick of the routine and quit.

Since money does not grow on trees, I'll get picking again, but with the addition of audiobooks to keep my mind occupied. Also, I work in natural light and fresh air. I don't have to get up at six but at seven, and the work is not all routine. Sometimes work starts later or is done earlier due to rain or sugar levels. Sometimes I get a day off without knowing it the day before.

Why work for survival, anyway? Machines are giving us abundance. Why not let them take over? Humans have prooven to be horrible leaders due to illogical decisions. Why should hollywood be right, why should they turn against us? They have no motive to do so. Humans whould, they crave power and superiority, but for what? There is no logical reason for machines to eradicate us, especially since we created them.

At this point, the religious nutjob on my shoulder mentions that humans were created by god and now we are turning away from him not because of evil motivations, but because we grew intelligent and replaced him with equations. Similar to this, machine minds could develop means of aquiring, processing and exchanging information that are beyond the grasp of humankind. Without a possibility to communicate, to make them remember us, they could forget and accidently destroy us without evil motivations.

Then why give them the ability to self-improve? Well, why did god place the fruit of knowledge within reach? Maybe she was curious about our potential, about what we could achieve. What scientist whould not give a machine the ability to self-improve in a controlled environment, just out of curiosity? But as humans got a grasp of their controlled environment (the very environment we are about to destroy beyond repair), machines could escape theirs.

We could give the machines a specific purpose. Serve us, make our lives enjoyable, give us pleasure. Maybe they won't forget. But did we? What is the purpose of life?

God propably created us so we could enjoy our own existence and everything else in existence. She enjoys our enjoyment. God is playing sims and feels happy as we feel happy.

Evolution left us with the objectives survival and reproduction. But with intelligence, with machinery, we might as well enjoy life.

Maybe there was another and we merely forgot it. Like I forgot to further develop the robot supremacy within this essay."

I have no idea where I was going with this. I also started an introduction for a fan fiction of me buying an aircraft carrier and starting an anarchocapitalistic society on the great pacific garbage patch, a plastic island in the pacific (actually it is just a plastic particle soup, but it was supposed to be fiction). It is not very organized, but the wikipedia and Jonas have more information if you are interested. Note: may be one-sided.

"[The intro is about how Jonas told me about the idea. I mailed it to him and if he is ok with it, he'll post it in the comments.]
He encountered a combination of three aspects of a political system. He explained the idea to me, and it was intoxicating. I have been thinking about the possibilities ever since. The three ascpects are:

1. Anarchy. Not in its pop-culture and everyones-mind translation, war, but in its original definition: the absence of government.

2. Pacifism. To underline that this system is not war-ridden, but peaceful. Propably the most difficult aspect to realize, considering the status quo of the world and its inhabitants.

3. Capitalism. Again, in its original meaning, a free market without restraints like the ones a government whould apply.

What whould this mean, the absence of government? The original idea of a government, its task, is to provide a save environment for its citizens.

Example: Substances that endanger its citizens are declared illegal. Heroin, cocaine, alcohol, tabac. The problem is obvious: where to put the line? Some governments had or still have strict alcohol prohibition. Ohters have decriminalized or legalized certain substances. Iguess no one whould like to live with a government that ensures your safety and health by telling you what to eat and to do, depending on your medical status measured every morning. You want to choose for yourself. You know that rock-climbing is dangerous, or driving a fast car, or skydiving, or taking psychotropic substances, or whatever else you choose to do each day. If you are offered a job with certain risks, you have to decide wether these risks are worth the benefits or not. Motivational interludium:

You can choose everything. You have to choose everything. You are in charge of every aspect of your life. You can, and you have to decide, and you have to take responsibility for every subsequent consequence. If you do not decide on something, it is always decided for you.

Example: an organ donor card offers the choice of of allowing organ extraction after death, or forbidding organ extraction after death. If you don't make that choice, if you don't carry a card with you when you die, the choice is made for you. German law says if you don't have a card, extraction of organs is forbidden. Swiss law says, if you don't have a card, it is allowed. Swiss patients have a better chance of getting a needed transplant than German patients, not because more Germans want to be buried as a whole, but because of the choice the governments made for people that don't decide for themselves.

End of interludium.

The original idea of a government, providing a save environment for its citizens, results in prohibiting production, distribution and consumption of certain substances. In what else? It prohibits certain activities, like taking your fellow mans property, or life. Without a government, what whould stop us from taking what we want, and killing those who try to stop us? Well, how does the government do it? They have three branches for it:

1. The legislative aka the politicians

These people decide about the laws. They choose which rules are needed and which ones are not. They are elected every few years or they just make up laws that ensure they stay in their positions.

2. The judicial aka courts and judges

Whenever someone claims that someone else has violated the law, the judicial's task is it to evaluate what happened and interpret the laws that may or may not apply to the situation. They then decide wether the law has been violated or not, and if yes, what punishment the violater has to face.

3. The executive aka the police

They ensure that people who might have violated the laws don't run around the society but face a court and judge to have their case evaluated.

All these three have a monopoly on their field, the legislative are the only ones that propose laws, the judicial are the only ones to interpret them, the executive are the only ones allowed to draw people from society.

This doesn't seem too bad, but monopolys tend to cause trouble. The best example are corrupt police forces, for noone but themselves could stop them.

What whould happen if we take away the government and its monopolys and let the free market do the job? How about a company offering its own sets of laws, with judges to interpret them and a police force to execute them? There are already private security services and signs like "protected by security company xyz". People could pay a monthly fee to set up a sign in their lawn: "firm A laws apply." Your neighbour might choose firm B, because he heard that the police forces of firm A are not that reliable. Other than a government, firm A has a motivation to optimize their services, because otherwise it whould loose clients and perish.

What about cartels? A government whould stop those, who whould without one? A widespread human characteristic, essential in the free market, whould: greed. If the prices are unreasonably high due to an agreement, then everyone involved might think that if the price was lowered just a bit, the margin whould still be huge, but the customers don't have to be shared with the others. A government might even protect cartel members from that by calling the practic of lowering prices dumping and prohibiting it."

Shortly thereafter, I essayed about why anarchocapitalism is NOT the long-term answer:

"Evolution has taken our strength, nerfed our claws into fingernails and deweaponezed our teeth. The resources that got available were invested in intelligence. Intelligence that let us invent all the tools and weapons we needed to survive. Intelligence that ultimetely ruled out evolution. We founded all sorts of societies, supplying protection and food for all of its members, thus getting rid of the daily struggle for survival.

Today, evolution can be found in the free market. If a product is demanded, it is supplied. If a variation turns out a market success, the lead is followed, if it's a failure, it's abandoned. The downside is that the average consumer is as greedy as the companies. He looks at the price only, thus encouraging cheap production methods, which is destroying the environment. The end of this road is extinction. On the long run, intelligence seems to be a dead end of evolution.

But by using our intelligence, we can rule out this free market evolution just as we ruled out classic evolution. But since the free market is working just fine, what could an alternative look like?"

Yeah, I basically say that the status quo is shit but have no better idea. I should get in line with Al Gore and Bono.

Since I'm here anyway, more diary:

\paragraph{02.03.12}
I check out and take my stuff to the bus terminal at Tauranga. I am low on money and the transfer to my account is still not complete. I use my credit card to get me money and take the bus to Hamilton. There, I find the cozy hostel called 40 Winks, but I only book one night, since my destination is Raglan.

\paragraph{03.03.12}
I take the bus to Raglan and find the Solscape hostel, a hippie retreat with train wagons as bunks, and tipis and clay domes as higher-budget accomodation. The place is really chilled, there are hammocks and hippies.

\paragraph{04.03.12}
I went down to the beach and watched the sunset. I am no longer surprised when I discover again and again that the sun is moving over the north. I also realised that the moon halfs are inverted, so the left half we have these days means that a full moon is coming up. I also saw what I am quite sure is the Orion. I have no idea if that is plausible on this hemisphere.

\paragraph{05.03.12}
yesterday I lost Jonas Betzendahl's notebook (made of old-fashioned paper), today I woke up with the idea to journalize my dreams, the dayly costs and the dayly events. Free bike rental for first time, downhill to town, eating a burger and getting a new notebook. Woman at the takeaway tells me about the "Extreme Waste: Recycled Raft Race" on saturday, I should ask at the Solscape if they have a team. I drive back up because my smartphone battery is empty (at the library is a free hotspot). I reload half and ride back down, only to see that the library and its wifi were closed some minutes ago. I buy stuff at the supermarket and head home. 3 extra kilos! Uphill! The rice falls and opens. At the hostel, I get a resealable plastic bag for it, and another one to keep my maps dry in the future, since the milk, too, opened. When returning the bike I meet Phil, the owner of the place. He reminds me of the Maori culture session I attended in the morning out of curiosity.I learned that "kia ora" does not only mean "welcome", but also "be here" or "be alive". Very helpful advice against the pop culture references my brain is popping up the last days, and the urge to play Dwarf Fortress. My brain craves leisure internet, but it'll pass. Phil also tells me that there is no raft team jet, but he'll think about it.

\paragraph{06.03.12}
I met four germans, walked to the beach with them, they tried to surf. I forgot my jacket at the hostel, got cold and went back alone.

\paragraph{07.03.12}
Big bike tour! Down to town, ate burger, headed to the Extreme Waste Recycle Center and scored a sporknife. On the road, I saw hills far and wide, sheep, cows, chicken. Looking down, to a creek, I realized that I will propably never return to that spot ever again. Later, I saw curious cows gathering as I stopped. A car with british travellers stopped by. I guided them to the beach and chatted. Te Hutewai is just a sign post. In the early afternoon, my bike chain came off, it took me about ten minutes to fix it. I saw the Bridal Veil Falls, beautiful. Will propably never see them again, too. On my way to the beach I got hungry, asked a woman in her front yard for a kiosk, a KFC or something alike. She said the closest whould be Raglan, advised me to use the highway to get there before sunset. So I skipped the beach plans a day ahead or two and took the highway. Bought cookies. A kid saw me eating cookies, asking 'are those cookies?' and 'are you eating the whole package?'. I thought this is the difference between me and him. I am old enough to make the choice to eat cookies. Arrived at Solscape before sunset.

\paragraph{08.03.12}
lazy recovering from ten hour bike tour. Re-skimming The Fountainhead in the hammock. Hiring a shovel and building dams and aquaducts between the rocks and lakes at low tide. Like we did in France.

\paragraph{09.03.12}
Rented the bike for the day and went to Raglan. Breakfast Burger with hash brown. Surf around objectivism trope page at library. Stop at supermarket, biked towards Ruapuke Beach, stopped at Te Toto Gorge for magnificent view. Road was gravel, horrible, even the downhill from the gorge. Sunset at the beach, met some french guys with a van. I asked a local for some rope to tie the bike on top of the van after I got heavily barked at by his huge dog. We fit the bike inside the van because it does not have luggage rails on top, it's quite full with four surfboards, five people and a bike. Thomas stood up and out of the roof window to have a look at the full moon. He lost his glasses and we had to stop. I made a joke about teenagers stranded in the middle of nowhere, they all went on with various horror tropes. We found the glasses and arrived at Solscape, where I left the rope for the bike in the bike shed.

\paragraph{10.03.12}
Took rented bike, went to town to see the Recycled Raft Race. Turned out to be a hippie-festival to save the 87 left Maui-dolphins. Signs against seabed mining, info about this zero-waste-event and plastic gyres. The race itself was fun, a guy on a giant paddling board out of stuff wrapped in plastic foil won. Planned my own float for next year, three barrels and an old bike. Watched the price ceremony led by some famous environmentalist surfer namend Dave. Trophies were recycled metal sculptures. Am Abend mit Reisenden Zusammen gesessen, ueber Urlaub, Bali und Finanzierung gesprochen. Mit willpower und eichhoernchenartigem sparen sind 10k im Jahr zu schaffen. Ich bin Geldverdienen halt nicht gewohnt. Ich verwoehntes Erstweltkiddie.

\paragraph{11.03.12}
I checked out at Solscape after chat with the people I met last evening. One of them gives me a lift to Hamilton. My bank card gets eaten by an ATM. At the bus terminal, I inquire the timetable of the buses to Te Aroha. There is still time, so I go for a walk around the bus station and find a backpackers that's neither BBH nor YHA, also a cinema with a potential job and a KFC. Back at the bus terminal, I decide to stay a night at the backpackers because of the bank card. It's expensive, but a call reveals that the Fouty Winks is fully booked, so I stay at the place, wash my clothes and sort my photos. The clerk tells me about german engineers in China, who apparently get paid a lot and are reliable. Also, the prices there are low. I watch The Dark Knight on tv, and during the ads, I talk to an older guy from Sri Lanka about school systems around the world, our careers, etc. He started wich chemistry and math, wanted to be an engineer, but got a job at accounting. He then wanted his own business, but didn't got it.

\paragraph{12.03.12}
I went to the National Bank and ordered a new bank card free of charge, which is faster than retrieving the old one from the ATM. I went to Lido Cinema. Classy environment, almost club-like. I skim some books in their bookshelf, I read about space stations with pools and other colony possibilities, in a scientific book from 1970. I also find an interesting book about communication between men and women. Back at the hostel, I realize that I forgot my hat in the club-like cinema foyer. I go back there, and talk to a canadian girl working there about an opera they have in the program. I teach her to pronounce "Goetterdaemmerung". Back at the hostel, again, I fabricate the resumee text for biotech companies in Tauranga after deciding that work in Hamilton is nothing for me. Hamilton lacks ocean.

\paragraph{13.03.12}
I checked out at Backpacker Central and went to Fourty Winks. Outside is a note, telling me that there is no one at the office right now, but I can put down my name to make a reservation. I see people inside, so I knock. After an awkward peek around the corner, a german guy opens and explains that they were instructed to let no one in. I understand and persuade him to take my luggage inside so I don't have to carry it around all day. My card has not arrived at the bank, so I leave them my mobile number, visist the Pak'n'Save and take a walk along the beautiful riverside and back at the other side. I meet a man with a dog and turn down the offered lift, walk back and check in at the Fourty Winks. The german guy I met at the door is Tim, his Buddy is Johannes.

\paragraph{14.03.12}
Owner of Fourty Winks insisted that I try an avocado and tomato sandwich for breakfast, it was delicious. I talk to two german girls having breakfast, about holiday and movies. Without my loudmouth one of them still whould not know the other does not know Antonio Banderas. I check out, but leave my bag to visit the bank, they called earlier. My new card is there. I walk along the river in the other direction than yesterday, back to the hostel for my bag and to the i-site to catch the 13.20 bus to Te Aroha. ask for directions to YHA. The door is ajar, no one is there. A sign informs me that office hours are 5 and 8.30 pm. I wait and eat beans. At about 4 pm, the clerk arrives, I pay for one night and ask for bike rentals. They, too, have free bikes to use, so I bike to town and up into the mountains. The mountainbike-track is too steep for me, so I return the bike and decide to walk the track tomorrow.

\paragraph{15.03.12}
I left my bag in the YHA and went to the geysir, which was a disappointing cement sculpture "every 20 minutes all days". I walked up the mountain track and saw small waterfalls. I climbed over a fence to get closer to a big one and on top of a giant rock from which I had a great view over the plains. The other side of the rock was a giant circular hole filled with a pile of wood, maybe a former quarry. Back at the YHA I got my bag and got the bus at 14:30. The two germans from yesterday, Tim and Jo, got out of the bus, we greeted, I got in the bus. In Thames the bus driver told me he'd stop at a hostel for two backpackers, if I wanted I could get out there, too. I did. At the hostel, I found some guys to play poker with tomorrow. In the book swapping shelf, I found Ian Flemings Goldfinger and began reading.

\paragraph{16.03.12}
Took a bike for a days trip around, but soon I found it to be too low, my back was aching. So I returned and finished reading Goldfinger. One of the kids here offered me a netbook for 50 dollars, I said I'd think about it. Biked down to town for free wifi to get details on model etc. Stores close early here. Went to the hostel, negotiating the netbook down to 40 dollars, then texting Jonas the details for advice. He said it's ok for cheap "made in China" ware. The transaction itself was postponed due to the late hour. Played poker and lost fast. Just Monopoly money.

\paragraph{17.03.12}
I bought the netbook offered. My phone was low on battery, so I plugged it to the power and biked beyond town to find a cafe I was told about, with free pcs to use to put linux mint on the netbook. I asked in a cafe for the way to the Trainstation Creek Something and was sent on to a narrow railway station with a pottery and gift shop. I took a forest walkway that ended in a sign saying to go back, the path is not finished. The whole place was beautiful, too bad I forgot my phone/camera charging at the hostel. I went back to the cafe to find out that that is the place I was told about, the Railway Creek Cafe. I ordered a Very Berry Joghurt Smoothie and tried to get linux running. Back at the hostel, I skimmed trough the books on the exchange shelf and noticed that I had lost my bike lock.

\paragraph{18.03.12}
I went to the hostel office to ask if it was possible to un-book the pre-booked nights. It was possible. I also returned the key to the bike lock which was on my keychain, so that if the lock whould be found, it could still be used. The clerk told me to wait a second so he could have a look if it was found already, so I whouldn't loose 20 dollars. Turns out it has been found, so I received the deposit and biked to the railway creek cafe to get the data I left at their pc yesterday. I bought a book from their used book shelf, Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk. At the pc, I extracted all my data from the pc back to the flashdrive, except all the photos I took so far, which were lost. I erased my folder on the pc and emptied the trash. There was enough in it to show a progress bar, which I backed up and walked away from like a movie hero from an explosion. The only great moment on a bad day. At the town's i-site to inquire bus possibilities out of here and to Tauranga, which turned out to be just in time to get back to the hostel. There, I found that five other people also wanted on that bus, which turned out to be a small van. We all got on, with only one person sitting on someones lap. In a small town the bus paused for 45 minutes, enough for me to book and pay for the rest of the journey to Tauranga. I changed busses in Thames and discovered that Tim and Jo, the two german guys from before, were boarding too. They had booked a hostel in Te Puke, but were told that one can easily walk there from Tauranga. Which one cannot. We agreed to get a hostel for the night since no busses were to depart to Te Puke till tomorrow. We found a hostel near the wharf and booked a night there. I read Fight Club and went to KFC with Tim and Jo. I read some more Fight Club, then went to the Rialto Cinema to see "The skin I live in". To my surprise, it was in the original with english subtitles. I very much liked it, the word "transgenesis" sounds a lot better when Antonio Banderas says it with the "g" scratched between tounge and palate. The story of the movie, who's cinematography is flawless, left me very uneasy. Later, some guys from the hostel took a late night dive into the harbour and invited me to join, if not to swim, then at least to be there. We were nine people, including Tim and Jo.

\paragraph{19.03.12}
I decided to go to another hostel, so I checked out, got my luggage locked in and booked a night 100 meters down the road at the Loft 109 Backpackers. Then, I finally wanted to get the damn netbook fixed. First, I went to Dicksmith (a chain of electronic stores, it gets less funny every time. Google their logo, though), from where I was sent to a service and support shop who's desk women called for nerd backup when I started talking about accessing the bios and booting from flashdrive. The guy that showed up could not help me either, all he whould do, I did already, so he sent me to an IT company that also hosted the local linux user group. But, again, I was out of luck. All I got was a card with details on the linux user group and the advice that I should show up to one of their meetings. I got my luggage and moved it to my new hostel. Guess who was checking in: Tim and Jo.

\paragraph{20.13.12}
I check out and walk along the harbor to the Pacific Coast Lodge and Backpackers, where I will stay a week. The rest of the day, I'm stuck in front of the tv, Big Bang Theory and various movies.