I want to start using the word "volcanic" as a synonym for "sexy"

Saturday 3:48PM. Auckland, New Zealand.

Finally made some friends. But I had to stoop to going on a hostel organized bar crawl. When I was in Europe, a lot of travelers “frowned upon” them. It’s usually a "I-just-graduated-high-school" kind of a thing. Luckily, there were a bunch of old bitter people, like me, to bond with. And I basically became famous at the first bar when I participated in a bar wide heads or tails game. Basically they flip a coin and you touch your head or your hiney and it keeps going until there’s a winner. It came down to two of us, and I was on a I-feel-like-a-psychic high. So we had to do a two out of three rock-paper-scissors match. They made me stand on a table so everyone could look up my skirt, but my newly discovered psychic abilities didn’t fail under the embarrassment. And I won that shit. Figured I get a free drink or something, but I won a tour of the Bay Islands which is the northeast coast from where I am and is probably worth almost $150. So that didn’t suck. And it gave people an excuse to talk to me. 

The next day I had to change rooms which was super fun after a night of dancing and drinking. And I promised myself I was going to do some sort of activity that day. So I went to Rangitoto Island for some hiking. If you’re asking yourself “Do all the islands and towns here sound like leveled up pokemon?”, the answer is yes.

Tip one: Bring a map ya dumb blonde. Rangitoto is a volcano. It has dirt/gravel, wide trails, and smaller trails that go through the trees which are obviously more fun and dangerous. I took the first small trail I could find to escape the children. Instead of going up though, it took me around by the water which was nice, but I wanted the more challenging hike up. Well, I found it.

Tip two: Bring more than one bottle of water because you’re definitely hungover. I started up one of the wide trails, and slowly the dirt/gravel that I thought was so easy before turned into black sand. And my sad, out of shape ass was sinking into that shite like quicksand. The sun came out and the wind stopped blowing. I tied up my sweaty shirt and exposed my Britney belly, circa 1999. I was running out of water, but I was determined.

I am happy to say that I did not make it to the top. Not because I gave up, but the last ferry leaves at 3:30 on the weekdays and I ran out of time. But I was no weakling. Depending on how accurate the iPhone mile tracker is, I hiked about nine miles. Very amazon of me, I know.

I only fell once.

And hit my head once.

I’m in a lot of pain today, but it was a great way to start St Patrick’s day. I’m in the future, so most of you reading are out celebrating now.

Don’t forget my existence, and have a pint for me.

Off to Whitianga in the morning.