Inappropriate Magazine

SURVIVING MODERN GREECE

2011-07-28T01:28:00.000-07:00

Mark Wilson in Europe, Greece 5th-16th July 2011, 10 things you need to know to get through.

What was I expecting.....? I had just flown from the prosperous lands of Scandinavia to the rock bottom of Europe, from order to chaos from prudent financial management and austerity to complete lack of any financial management at all.

I landed in Greece what was once renowned as being one of the most advanced civilizations on the planet in ancient times, revered for fighting its prowess, technical innovation and the advancement of mankind having heard only a scattering rumours about the state of country beyond Athens sufficiently normal looking airport lounges, to be honest my mind had wandered off into the beauty of Scandinavia and its people.

Ancient Greece had once stood at the pinnacle of civilisation hit the fast forward button to 2011 and my how Modern Greece has fallen. The Greece of 2011 is still a place of beauty, iconic landscapes and history not to mention some epic summer weather, beautiful beaches and ladies to boot but it is also a backward, behind the times, bankrupt economy now renowned for dragging mankind down particularity if you are a member country of the EU or contributing funds to the IMF to bail out of the floundering Greek economy.

Financial reality, political woes and prehistoric sewage system aside Greece is still clinging to its once fabled reputation of the tourist mecca. While the peak season which used to see Greek beaches, bars and backpackers rammed with money spilling visitors May through October now peaks in a flurry around July and August, It is still a happening place and even on the shoulders of the high season there is enough going on if you can handle the odd toilet, transport and technical issue to entertain most breeds of tourists.

However no matter how surreal your holiday is you can’t really escape the glaring reality that despite a GDP per capita comparable to New Zealand and decades of uninterrupted growth through the 80's and 90's Greece on the surface doesn't appear to fit into the same first world status as countries such as Germany, New Zealand or even the now struggling Ireland. There are highways, ATM’s and the internet but there are also slums, rubbish, a tangle of wires, pipes phone lines weaving around the cities in a hazardous and hap hazard manner.

So to survive Modern Greece here a few things to keep in mind to ensure a safe and enjoyable stay.

10 things you need to know to survive Greece in 2011.

1) Cash is good and bad, they don’t take credit cards so you need cash but pick pockets in the cities are rife so it’s a liability at the same time. Maybe it’s a conspiracy where by the merchants don’t take credit cards so cash needs to be carried that way it can then be stolen by their buddies? Ask the Greeks how much they trust the banks and you will realise why they prefer a cash economy. Ask the government how they expect to collect tax and replay there massive debt when people operate in a virtual black market, I wonder if the Germans asked?

2) English is sparse compared to what you are used to in Europe. Especially in the older generation and on signs. Leave early and hope your TOM TOM or NAVMAN has the most up to date maps and speaks better Greek than you.

3) Prices are dependent on how much money the merchants think they can get from you. Which is dependent on the availability of any other nearby competition, how gullible you look, the season, how busy they are and what time of the day it is.

4) Don’t flush your toilet paper! Greece spent all its money on public servants holidays so they didn’t have any spare money to build a first world sewerage system. Being a kiwi I decided to go ahead and rip into flushing and there were a few times that I thought I was going to end up knee deep in my own misguidedly flushed filth.

5) Don’t plan on getting sleep on Ferries, even when they are quiet there seems to be some form of religious objection to a tired possibly hung-over tourist catching some much needed recovery sleep. Take sleep where you can get it as the party lifestyle on many of the Islands means you need to grab some shut eye by day or you won’t survive the trip.

6) Keep an eye on your ladies, the Greeks are smooth operators and like most of Europe there are plenty of lads both young and old who are willing to push the boundaries of personal space and appropriateness too far.

7) Greece is no longer cheap. There is value to be had but the days of a cheap holiday in Greece disappeared with the Drachma (Greece’s former currency). Gyro’s is the best value food and can be used as a barometer for the prices of locality. €1.50 is a cheap area €3.50 means you’re in for an expensive night especially if you’re having a few drinks.

8) €1 shots are pretty much dishwashing liquid mixed with some cheap booze, but after a few warm up beverages you won’t know the difference until your Black Zambuka won’t light.

9) Strikes! There are strikes and pretty much everyone gets involved so don’t expect to get far some days. The big backpackers and international hotel chain shuttles are the best bet when things grind to a halt.

10) The islands are not all close together. A popular myth, so check your timetables and buy a map to ensure you leave yourself long enough in between activities to actually get to where you want to be. Ie/ unless you buy a very expensive flight its over a day transit between Ios/Santorini and Corfu by boat, bus, boat and shuttle.

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LONG HAUL FLIGHTS, GIN AND HUMMERS

2011-05-19T06:51:00.000-07:00

So its begins, being 30 what could be my last reckless leave work for 5 weeks and spend an excessive amount of money holiday. I left Queenstown amidst the closing in of winter, squally showers lingered around the mountains leaving them with a sprinkling of winter goodness which undoubtedly would be exciting the ski bunnies passing me on the inbound lane at the airport.

The day had been a typically shambolic affair akin to my past travel attempts, leaving too much work to the last minute and rushing from the office home to pack with minimal time to spare giving the feeling of certainty that I would forget something semi essential for the trip. Wallet, Passport Check... everything else a bonus!

The Buffalo Club Hummer was my chariot to the airport via Maccas for a couple of M’cChickens to fuel the long journey ahead. The staff seemed confused as it was my second visit for the day after seeing off Georgie our lovely young Aussie promo gal for winter.

What had been forgotten was Air NZ Holidays giving my passport details to the USA customs service with my ticketing information as is apparently required due to their near constant state of security breach induced paranoia. Lucky Jenna my travel Agent is hot, cool and helpful and had the great excuse that my passport expired and I had to have a new one between booking and leaving so nothing she could do, fair enough I thought. To rectify this required several last minute phone calls and a few panicked texts from a lovely friend of mine at the Queenstown Airport who sorted me out and also did some seat shuffling to get me the exit row from QT to AKL.

Rumour had it she and the reservations team had rewarded my loyalty paid in flights and naked suitcase slides to Air NZ by arranging me a cheeky we sky couch on the New Air NZ Boeing 777-300ER. Having been a much talked after feature of the craft following its launch I was eager to experience this comfort and a good sleep first hand, however this dream dissipated faster than Warehouse furniture with the appearance of a nice old chap from Iowa who was heading home from NZ, who some how was booked into my row.

My departure and arrival rituals to NZ are very similar and involve a bar at the airport and a few Speight's Gold Medal Ales. Great for taking the edge off the start or the end of any journey and a reminder of what you have or are about to miss from home.

I may have been bitterly disappointed with missing out on a row to my self and sky couch but the new features of the 777-300 ER went a little way towards making up for this. A power socket looked promising but wouldn't charge my laptop, the seats were more comfy, the overhead lockers spacious and the in flight entertainment more user friendly despite the selection not suiting my tastes, honestly no Californication on TV and no Speight's in the drinks cart, Air NZ you need to sharpen up on a few small areas!

I love the USA, we stop for a an hour or two for fuel and some newbies and end up having to pay $20 bucks for an ESTA, clear customs and hang out in LAX's version of a south Auckland suburb called the international transfer lounge.

After giving up on sleep due to the eternal devastation of missing out on my sky couch I set into the Gin and movies hard on the LA to London route and was eventually cut off by the hostesses although one lovely lass was sneaking me a few cheeky stiff ones. Watching braveheart after quite a few gins at altitude is quite an emotional experience!

30 hours after leaving the house I was sitting in my mates Pattys silver BMW work car sliding back to Putney for a well earned nap. Long Haul... still far shorter than a 76 day boat trip to London, but a great advertisement for premium economy, business class or teleports.

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OLD FLAVOURITES

2011-04-02T15:27:00.000-07:00

Mark Wilson's Weekly Mate Column from inappropriate.co.nz

We humans are a comfort species we get excited by the new and the shiny but when the chips are down or simply when the gloss fades from something new we often turn to the tried and true.

Now as a personal trainer I probably shouldn’t be writing a column on fast foods but like any mere mortal there are times when a feed of Macca’s or a slop box from KFC is not only desired but an absolute necessity.

There are those hung over days where only the high grease content of a KFC can be relied upon to soak up the lingering effects of last night’s alcohol from the bloodstream (this is pretty much pure myth but we will run with it as folk law dictates) or that late night drive from Invercargill to Queenstown past the new Frankton drive through on your way to bed, nothing else really open and no energy to get out of the car scenario. Of course there is the just got a new country and don’t feel comfortable enough to go straight out of my comfort zone and eat some local cuisine scenario which sends you to the big 3 KFC, McD’s and BK, this also serves as a good price indicator of how expensive the rest of the trip is going to be by giving a a good gauge of local prices verses your homeland

With the fast food industry one of many defined by fierce competition for the consumers taste buds and pocked gorse the big 3 are always coming up with new food offerings, promotions and meal add ons to keep the deep fryer running and the arteries clogging.

MacDonald’s has had everything from Kiwi burgers to the double double cheese cheese burger burger please and now offers free avocado in its “little bit fancy range” M Selections range of course for a limited time.

But like anything in life these promotional products no matter how fancy they may be are short lived, some may return due to popular demand like KFC’s epic ‘Tower Burger’ and the great old Kiwi classic from McD’s the ‘Kiwi Burger’ most are destined for the waste skip out the back of the restaurant to be picked over by scavengers and hungry students alike.

More often than not we turn back to the Classics the McChicken, the Fillet Burger, the Whopper. We go back to items that have been on the menu for years that surely we must be sick of by now but yet we are not. How can it be that after two decades or more of rampant competition there has not been a chicken burger to replace the McChicken or a fish offering to go toe to toe and win against the Fillet o Fish?

I put it down to a few things, firstly nostalgia. We were introduced to these burgers as children, ate them in our glory years as teens and now we have some form or nostalgic emotional attachment. Being Kiwis MacDonald’s restaurants were not common pace in the provinces during the 80’s and 90’s and most people will remember the day the golden arches came to their town, remember that first birthday dominating the playground with mates climbing things you shouldn’t. As we got older the late night trips after parties and the how many 95 cent burgers can you eat at the Dunedin MacDonald’s on the way home from water polo trips in Christchurch incidents. We associate these foods with some really positive and important memories in our lives and thus when we need a pick up or its late at night we go back to such nostalgic hunger busters.

Secondly it’s that sauce. How good is the McChicken or the Big Mac sauce? It’s more addictive than nicotine.

So no matter what the Big 3 throws out those base menu items we treasure will always be our favourites in the long run, we may cheat from time to time and flirt with a seared chicken deluxe or a mighty angus but in the end we will make our bed with the old flavourites.

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SAVE THE SCARFIE

2011-03-26T19:27:00.000-07:00

“You can be a student anywhere but you can only be a Scarfie in Dunedin” Mark Wilson looks at the prospect of extinction facing this New Zealand cultural icon.

New Zealand has an unfortunate habit of removing species from existence or pushing them to the brink of extinction. Since human settlement we have killed off the mighty Moa along with one species of bat, at least 50 other bird species, three types of frogs, three lizards, one freshwater fish, four plant species, and a number of invertebrates.

Both Maori and the early European settlers did little to abate these losses which were caused by introduction of predators, clearing of habitat mainly native forests and wetlands as well as direct predation by humans.

Even now despite efforts to reverse our declining biodiversity we still have a number of species who you could say are touch and go, the Kiwi, Kakapo and Takahe to name a few. We realised University of Otago Toga Parade too late these precious national treasures were in trouble and now invest millions in helping them cling to existence with little hope of ever regaining their former prosperity

Unfortunately even with this awareness of how important it is to protect our unique native species, that diverse range of creatures that make New Zealand such an interesting place to live and visit we are in real danger of losing another unique creature New Zealand the humble Dunedin Scarife.

Scarfies in the annual O-Week Toga Parade

Native to Dunedin this species can travel large distances and is now found throughout the globe with large colonies in major International cities such as London, Brisbane and Sydney.

Scarfies stay in the main Dunedin colony for 3 to 8 years gaining strength and the key life skills that will help them when flourish when they leave the nest. However not all Scarfies leave the comforts of home and can be found many years later still around the main colony offering advice to younger generations.

At the centre of this formally flourishing colony lies common area known as Otago University where the Scarfie goes to learn and interact with other species.

The average Scarfie makes its nest in the areas surrounding the University campus. Most scarifies who are a relatively lazy species when it comes to getting around prefer to live in the low lying areas directly adjacent to the University. This North Dunedin area has become known as the student ghetto. However due to the demand for these flat areas exceeding supply some mature Scarfies and also a few disorganised ones who didn’t get flat hunting early enough end up living on hill tops overlooking the city.

Scarfies seem to prefer to nest in abandoned or derelict buildings often damp with questionable, plumbing, wiring and insulation. A Scarfie nest consists of a central room which is sometimes heated in winter; this room contains a TV and an old couch along with several road signs, Speight’s bottles, crates for extra seating, posters topless women adorning the wall and the occasional pair of female underwear from a past conquest. The nest also consists of 2 to 8 additional non heated rooms where the Scarfie sleeps and if they are very lucky mates with one or more partners in any given breeding season, known as a semester. So as not to confuse the scarfie who can become disoriented after dark due to consumption of a local brew known as Speight’s some of the nests have unique names such as the Pink Pussy, Beaver Lodge, Footrot Flats and Stagger Inn.

Students Flats Dunedin

The Scarfie is social creature and they often congregate in large numbers at their favourite watering holes. Such spots past and present include, The Gardens Sports Tavern (Gardies), The Captain Cook Tavern (The Cook), The Bowling Green (The Bowler), The Fat Ladies Arms (Also known as the Oriental, the Last Moa and more recently Starters Bar).

The Gardens Sports Tavern (Gardies), Dunedin, closed June 2010

There are several cultural traditions and rituals which are dear to the Scarfie and often take place at these waterholes or in the surrounding areas. They Hyde Street Keg Race, O-Week, The Cookathon, Tanker Day, Naked Rugby, Toga Parade and Re O-Week just to name a few.

These creatures have become endeared by New Zealanders over the last 40 years and carry a special place in the heart of many. Older Scarfies often look back with nostalgic lament at their time in the Dunedin Colony as the best years of their life; they regularly get together and share these memories over a few cold brews for the remainder of their adult lives and lately have expressed concern at the future of their species.

So what of the humble Scarfie now?

I headed back to Dunedin earlier this year after hearing about the continued demise of this once revered creature. In the preceding years I had witnessed a steady decline in the Scarfie population and many shocking changes to the Scarfie way of life, but Scarfies are resilient and often find a way to survive even under harsh pressures.

Returned however to see more of the Scarfies precious habitat destroyed. Many formerly great Scarfie watering holes which are so vital to the Scarifies social fabric and courtship rituals had either been destroyed or had deteriorated to such a condition they could longer serve the purpose they were designed for. The Bowler was gone, bought by the University along with Gardies, the Cook was under threat as the University had been applying pressure to their liquor license. Scarfies were being forced into the strange land that is the Octagon to socialise and engage in courtship. This saw them interacting with other species much more regularly and picking up behaviours and fashions from these outsiders.

The area where the Scarfies made their nest was also changing. The University has a stated objective to clean up and modernise the student accommodation stock. It had been purchasing Scrafie flats on Castle Street and other traditional Scarfie strong holds and inserting international students with the hope of reducing the Scarfies rowdy social interaction with each other. The price of these flats had also significantly increased while the student loan and allowance payments the Scarfies relied heavily on had barely gone up in over 15 years leaving them with far less social cpatial to spend on traditional Scarfie pursuits such as Crate Days, Red Cards and Sunday Sessions.

The Scarfies staple diet of Speight’s, wine, cheap spirits, canned food, Gardies toasties, takeaway pizza, stolen meat from other flats, mums rescue packages and cheap BYO Asian restaurants was becoming scarce. Prices for alcohol at the bars had skyrocketed from the humble $4.50 jug and $28 crate to $10.50 jugs and not a crate in sight. Yet large supermarket chains were offering the Scarfies an alternative, they could purchase their staple foods and drinks for a fraction of the cost elsewhere if they were happy to stay in their nests to consume it.

Scarfie behaviour had changed significantly, day time drinking had really dried up, bars were empty as the Scarfie had become a nocturnal creature and only came out of the nest to socialise at 1am and this socialisation was limited to dancing to music enjoyed in the clubs of Ibiza, music that wouldn’t have made the Juke box at Gardies that’s for sure. Couch fires were still in vogue but the numbers turning up to these burnings was much higher than in the past due to the fact all the Scarfies were cooped up in their nests not at the bars, this was leading to more clashes and incidents with the police that due to YouTube and modern media were beamed to the rest of the world in minutes.

Castle Street Riots

Scarfies had always been larrikins but they had a healthy respect for the elderly, often to be seen pushing trolleys for the residents of North Dunedin even if that trolley later on ended up in the Leith. Scarfies flouted the law but respected those who enforced it. They were happy to push the limits but when the Police or Fire brigade appeared it was time to douse that couch fire and head back inside or down to Gardies for a reflective jug.

Scarfies were at university to have fun but realised they needed to sneak a degree in as well to justify their existence and to appease their parents. They worked hard in the Holidays to pay for the fun they would have in Dunedin and while they may not have realised at the time how fortunate they were they could comprehend the lifestyle they had was not a right to all and appreciated that.

Now it seems a visit from the police incurs a riot complete with bottle throwing. Maybe this is a by product of our PC parenting regimes of the 1990’s which bread a generation of “your not the boss of me”, “you can’t touch me” spoilt brats who knew all their rights but had no concept of responsibility. Student Flats Dunedin

The modern Scarfie seems to mirror the modern young adults of today’s contempt for anyone who tells them what to do. There are many who think they are 6 foot tall and bullet proof and know everything there is to know about the world.

The Scarfie I now saw in front of me drunk cheap RTD’s from the super market in their heat pump warmed living room, while watching Jersey Shore on my sky HDI, sent pix’s from their iphone 4 to save wandering over to the neighbours for a yarn, communicated via face book from their laptop, had mums car, dressed in skinny or low riding jeans, threw bottles at cops, didn’t know what a pelican (not the bird) was, couldn’t do a 5 day bender if their life depended on it and went to pubs to dance not to drink.

There were a few traditional Scarfies remaining and these precious few were severely endangered. Their way of life threatened by a changing society, a University which sees them as an outdated class of people who need to be removed to make way for book worms and international students who spend all day in the library and all night in focus study groups thinking of questions for next week’s lectures. They have to face a government determined to further undermine their ability to socialise around alcohol in a way they are accustomed and a apathy among the citizens of Dunedin and its council as to how important this dying culture is to the city.

We need to save the Scarfie!

Otago University needs the Scarfie culture. They remove it at their peril.

I’ve never heard an ex Otago graduate sharing stories about a great lecture they went to or about who much fun they had in the Library, but I’ve heard plenty of stories about fireworks wars, social rugby booze ups, jumping in the Leith, Sunday sessions at Gardies, streaking and the like. The Scarfie memories are the ones that remain long after ones memory of how supply and demand elasticity works.

Ex Otago graduates are your marketing team Otago University and they sell you on your unique student culture, your Scarfie culture, not on your academic prowess. It’s the life skills garnished in this unique social experiment that have made graduates so sort after not the notes they took in a legal history lecture while trying to stay awake after a big night. It’s the ability to interact with diverse groups of people that students learn, it’s the team developed flatting, the budgeting of trying to get enough booze for the week while still paying rent, it’s the innovation fostered through trying to get your power meter to turn more slowly with a potato and a bit of wire. Scarfies are unique they have learned in this unique way this is why a degree in commerce coupled with Scarfie qualifications of drinking 101, flatting 101 and streaking 101 are more valuable than other University’s who simply offer a top quality academic qualification.

18 year olds sitting in Nelson, Hastings and Wellington don’t check out the academic history of a tertiary institution before attending they ask their mates older brothers and sisters where they went, where is it fun, where are the best parties and where will I enjoy my study the most. 18 year olds are not the rationale thinkers you give them credit for they want to go to Dunedin because they want to be Scarfies.

Otago University you have built a brand over decades and a strong one at that, this brand endures now but like any brand if your product deviates away from the perceived brand image for too long the brand will eventually be diluted and move towards the reality. There is always a lags and you are enjoying the benefits of this lag now, but there will come a time when the saying “you can get a degree anywhere but you can only be a Scarfie in Dunedin” will no longer apply and you will have lost your point of difference and the country will have lost another Species.

Every young adult needs a chance to let their hair down, try things, fall off the wagon for a bit and learn how to get back on, make an idiot of themselves, flaunt a few laws and get this all out of their system while having a great time with mates, learning valuable life lesions and educating themselves to be future contributors to society. That is what being a Scarfie is ... it’s the break you get in life before everything gets real, it’s not taking life to seriously, it’s a liberating experience.

An extract from Otago University’s Master Plan states that a major goal for the future is ensure the “Otago experience for students and staff as both positive and desirable”. Looks like those administering this plan are out of touch with reality here as taking away the pillars of Scarfiedom like student bars and Scarfie flats is in direct conflict to this objective.

If these are the famous last words of the Scarfie, If this is goodbye I am at least grateful that I got to enjoy being a Scarfie and it has added greatly to my life, I will always have those memories but the next generation will miss out on this unique experience and that is something we should be ashamed of as a country.

HOW AWESOME IS OUR BACKYARD

2011-03-21T15:17:00.000-07:00

Mark Wilson takes time out for a sneaky hunt in one of New Zealand’s true paradises, Lake Lois, Manapouri, Fiordland National Park.

If emerging from the freezing fog and 2degC high for the day to clear crisp winter sunshine, ice sprinkled beach trees and snow-capped mountains on the western side on Lake Manapouri wasn’t enough to whisk away the stresses of daily life the ensuing hunt through tranquil (barring of course the odd obscenity whispered under my breath as I tumbled over the odd rock) beach forest was.

Looking west up Lake Lois, Manapouri, Fiordland National Park

Through a tangle of tree roots, leafy ferns, slippery rocks and gnarled beach trees I could make out the picturesque Lake Lois glistening in the last hour or so of the winter sun.

Darn I’m there already and no deer! Plenty of sign though and great bush for the most part.

Seeing it’s only 800m as the Kea fly’s through the bush from the main lake you would think it’s easy to find, but I wouldn’t be alone in saying I’ve missed it and ended up emerging back out in a confused state to the main lake on the odd occasion.

The rivers weave and cross over each other and the one that drains Lake Lois seems to lose itself in the boulders and undergrowth.

Fallen beach tree's add to the vista on a cool winters afternoon

Let’s just say scout camps and compass training actually does pay off in this little outcrop of paradise.

The water was warmer than the air with mist rising still at 3pm in the afternoon and the mountains reflected

in the calmness to create an upside down vista of the surrounds.

I decided to sit for a while and ponder where the deer had gone too, cheeky buggers I had come all this way and felt I deserved one with a most stealthy passage through the bush.

As I sat in the sand eating a bumper bar I wished I taken a Speight’s with me as it seemed the perfect setting to console my luckless hunt with a cold sip or two of the good stuff.

Lake Lois, quiet, still, isolated, PERFECT

I could have been the only person on earth, yet it was less than two hours drive, 30 minutes by boat and a bit less than an hour carefully by foot to where I was. I have traveled extensively to China, Macau, Hong Kong, North America, Samoa, Australia, Europe, Central America, and The Caribbean not to mention spending the best part of the start of 2010 sifting around Thailand the USA, but this spot and this lake are still my favourites.

I could sell this moment, many people now rely on living vicariously through the moments of others online prowling face book for worthwhile entertainment enjoyed and shared by friends and strangers. I guess I could just sit at home as well and look at other people’s moments but had just earned my own and it was far more rewarding!

I think this is why we live down here, one hour looking at this adds years to your life. Silence is so hard to find, but here it flourishes in rich abundance undisturbed except the odd kea calling out and a few fantails curiously twittering by my boots.

On our door step here in New Zealand are some of the world’s most inspiring moments just waiting to be experienced so get off the couch, drag yourself form the noise, congestion and bustle of the world’s major cities or even our own stressful metropolitan areas, log off face book, stop twitting and go for a hunt, a tramp or a kayak in our epic back yard!

There is plenty of open space the fresh air and photo opportunities are free and plentiful and you know your face book and flickr portfolios needs some new epic profile pictures of you streaking through the forest before plunging into a mountain lake with hobbit like efficiency.

Written by – Mark Wilson, Inappropriate Magazine

Photos by – Mark Wilson

First Published July 2010 for Fairfax Media, Re written March 2011.

All material and photos copyright Inappropriate.co.nz

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GARDIES FINAL POUR

2011-03-21T05:05:00.000-07:00

Mark Wilson attended Gardies Last Harrah on Friday, June 18, and looks back at the history from 1970 through to its final hour.

As I sit here gazing out a slightly off square north Dunedin window nostalgically lamenting my student days a grey misty drizzle shrouds the surrounding hills, it is as if the city is crying, mourning the loss of two iconic bastions of its proud and unique culture all in one weekend. The air is still and the streets airily quiet, I imagine this it is what it could be like the day after the world has ended. The more relevant and perhaps truer explanation is this is what it is like the day after the last ever test at Carisbrook has provided a decent portion of the populace with a David Tue left hook sized hangover.

Gardies Famous Neon Sign

As my own head clears and the haze recedes the gravity of what has just been put to rest wells up inside me like two day old fish pie. I guess this is the feeling of loss sinking in. The Gardens Sports Tavern or Gardies for short summed up by owner Pete Innes Jones as ‘an iconic old boozer’ has poured its last Jug of Speight’s, dried the felt on the pool tables for the final time and locked the doors on 40 years of memories.

Finding words to describe the place this bar holds in my own life is hard enough but summing up the feeling of those who were there on Friday the 18th of June 2010 to turn off the tap on one of New Zealand’s most famous watering holes is perhaps the hardest challenge a writer could face. How to do justice to such a legendary almost mythical place is maybe akin to writing a eulogy for Mother Teresa.

As I strode into Gardies for the final time on Friday night the carpet was familiarly sticky, soaked in memories it complimented the worn yet familiar looking decor that gave Gardies its comfortable living room appeal. Gardies first retro brown brick was mortared into place in 1969 and the completed 5500 Square Foot tavern opened shortly after as a popular local pub for North Dunedin residents. Designed with large drinking and serving areas which reflected the change in liquor laws in the late 60’s allowing for longer operational hours its large car park is testament to the countries attitude towards drink driving at the time. Student flats didn’t have the reach of today’s sprawling campus and hence the Scarfie culture that became synonymous with Gardies would have to wait a few years to be born.

The Gardies of old was a classic locals bar, live music, free flowing beer, sports on the telly and even according to one lucky lady a 1970’s first date that lead to a still successful marriage. Like any good local there was the odd dust up and a few hard nuts to be found leading into perhaps Gardies most infamous night which occurred in 1974, when a fight between pub patrons and the local biker gang at the time ‘The Coffin Cheaters’ saw shots fired in the car park a number of those involved emerge with serious gunshot wounds. What may shock many is the fact that upstairs at Gardies was once home to a boogie nights styled glass dance floor with flashing lights. Former managers from those earlier days Arthur Waide and Mark ‘Messy’ Medlicott joke that it’s probably still under the floor boards somewhere. Most of those who remember Gardies through the nineties and earlier this decade will know that dancing was virtually banned but like mullets, jean shorts and skateboarding Gardies went full circle with a wooden dance floor and DJ booth being introduced almost by accident while the carpet was being replaced around 6 or 7 years ago.

The decor hasn't changed much bu the haircuts have, Gardies in 1980's

The 10pm closing of the 1970’s and 1980’s saw peoples socialising shackles released and crowds flocked to the Gardens Sports Tavern to enjoy many a live band and a decent boogie. I know we often hear stories of kids being left in the car while the parents were at the pub but Gardies had this licked and Joe and Jason Waide, sons of former manager Arthur Waide reminisce fondly over the hours they spent playing space invaders at the downstairs bar, beats the back seat of the car every time. Things got so busy in those early days that staff would need to sneak mates in the through the back door bundle them in the small service lift accessing upstairs and the action as to avoid causing a riot amongst the other patrons.

As the 80’s wore on the university grew and students crossed the Dundas Street barrier to inhabit northern Castle Street, Leith Street and Howe Street, surrounding Gardies and eventually infiltrating the local watering hole. Gardies joined the Captain Cook Tavern, Bowler and the Oriental Hotel as a major player in the Student drinking scene a position it would hold until its closure. Messy informs me of the first ever Orientation Week Promotion in 1986 where Speight’s put up a branded Austin A35 car which was lowered into the Garden Bar by a crane and each jug purchased gave the merry student drinker a chance to win a set of wheels for the year. This sparked off the long and often controversial tradition of large O-Week promotions run by local bars such as the Cooks Cook-a-thon and Orientals/The Last Moa’s Tanker Day. The boogie nights dance floor disappeared later in the eighties and was replaced upstairs by a country and western styled bar compete with a covered wagon. Deregulation of the alcohol industry in the early 1990’s saw the beginning of some tougher times for the iconic student boozer as bars in town were able extend their hours while Gardies located in a residential area was stuck with 10pm closing, eventually this was pushed out to 12am on Friday and Saturday and 11pm on weeknights.

The first real O-Week promotions kicks off in 1986

In 1992 Current owner Peter Innes Jones headed south from running student bars in Christchurch hearing that there was an opportunity to take up the challenge at the helm of Gardies. Pete embarked on the longest tenure of any manager steering the bar through its high profiled nineties period and into the somewhat more troubled recent times. Despite many murmurings of discontent amongst the students of the 1990’s who point fingers at the current generation for failing to support the venue and lament over the dissipation of its huge popularity Innes Jones said it wasn’t quite the case and the bar always had its ups and downs. “We rarely had two good years in a row but neither did we have two bad ones”. Jones and his crew came up with many an innovative promotion to hold ground in the very competitive student bar market during this era. Cheap ‘Scarfie Meal Deals’ were introduced in the 1990’s and in response to the Otago Rugby Team’s penance for drinking crates of Speight’s, Gardies lead the charge to sell the good old Kiwi swapper crate over the bar. Other popular promotions were Seven Deadly Sins, where by the willing scarifies would down seven shots each named after one of the well know seven deadly sins such as lust, gluttony, greed, or envy etc and receive a t-shirt for their troubles another favourite was toss the boss, where by the customer upon buying a round of drinks could engage in a game of coin toss with the duty manger at the time, should you win, the drinks were on the boss. It would be fair to say that a few bosses have cost Pete a fair amount of coin.

Gardies didn’t just become famous overnight and along with all that had gone before a certain period during the nineties when the bar was frequented by the Otago NPC team who held regular court sessions at the venue and mingled with the public, really catapulted the Bar into folk law. Brendan ‘Chainsaw’ Laney recalls that era as a special time and said it meant a lot to the players. Laney laments “The reason it was important to us as players was you felt you were just another person in the pub, it also got us close to the people who came and supported us every game and because we actually knew them and vice a versa it meant they were really interested in us doing well on the field”. Another famous ex Scarfie and Otago rugby player Marc Ellis rose to fame while still a regular at the pub and his endorsements and support along with the rest of the Otago team helped publicise the bars character to a wider audience making it a must stop venue for anyone wanting a cold beer or a good time in the city.

Like any bar if the walls could talk what a story they would tell, in Gardies case the walls could talk and chalk boards installed in the toilets bore witness to many a humorous comment about someone’s mum, sister, girlfriend or sexuality. Gardies had it all, cold Speight’s, sport on the big screen, friendly and often easy on the eye bar staff, comfortable and non intimidating surrounds all capped off with an atmosphere second to none. Music, events and students engaging in all sorts of entertaining activities such as the naked ski jump, naked pool and humorous take the piss dances like the raptor, lawnmower, box dance and caterpillar made it unique. “We sold good times” Innes Jones states and it was all washed down with a fair few Speight’s.

As the 2000’s wore on cheap super market booze, rising costs of student living and constant pressure and scrutiny from the University and licensing authorities saw student drinking pushed into the home and the crowds waned a little. According to Innes Jones the business no longer remained a viable commercial entity in its current state with the current environment. “I was embarrassed to have to sell the Gardies” Innes Jones confesses “it was so hard to see it slipping away like watching your grandparents with Alzheimer’s”. It was such an Icon and I could see from his expression it was not a decision taken lightly. There were all sorts of rumours around offers to buy the bar but Innes Jones categorically states that the only realistic and concrete offer he ever formally received was from the University of Otago. He has no regrets and enjoyed the ride over the years especially the vibrant young people he has met and staff he had the pleasure of working with. He notes current manager Johnny Miller as one of the nicest people he knows and a great manager “I have never seen anyone work the floor like Johnny, he had a great manner and I never saw him angry”. This author can certainly vouch for Miller here and also that the big guy who had become a constant of the student drinking scene over the past decade had some of the best stories about Scarfie life I’ve ever heard.

The crowd on the final night was well intentioned and of a good nature, there were a few big bots smashed in typically Scarfie fashion and the odd larrikin after a memento but overall the affair was a well managed and suitable send off for the Iconic old boozer. Innes Jones said it was the best night commercially for over 2 years. There was any number of well known’s in attendance, Josh Kronfeld, Aaron Pene, Tom Donnelley, Craig Newby and Alan Whetton all made appearances, not to mention the Cutters Club who have been having $5 Friday lunches with jugs of coke and raspberry put on by Pete at Gardies for nearly two decades. A live band rocked upstairs and beer flowed much as it had in the heyday. The taps finally dried up around 11.00pm and the bar ran completely dry shortly after. The crowd dispersed remarkably quietly into the night, a respectful farewell indeed.

Josh Kronfeld and the Cutters Club say goodbye to the 'Iconic Old Boozer'

So what now, the University has another bar to convert into offices or study space and the students of the university have one less place to engage in the famous antics that has made them unique and made Dunedin such a draw card for New Zealand’s youth. Brendan Laney is worried as am I that this is another nail in a rapidly closing coffin for Dunedin’s unique Scarfie culture. Pete and former All Black and Otago star Josh Kronfled admit it’s sad to see such icons disappear and that places such as Gardies offered a supervised environment for students to flourish and earn their rite of passage to adulthood. Kronfeld always the wordsmith surmises “University is a developmental experience, socially, mentally and culturally for the individual and its better for this to occur in a managed way, bars like Gardies offer supervised environment for this exciting time in people’s lives”. Innes Jones hopes that the University and the community of Dunedin recognise how important the student culture is and that places like the Captain Cook survive these turbulent times to carry the baton for the future. “The kids have a right to 4 or 5 years of enjoyment before they have to worry too much about the grind of adult life” is a well put summary by Innes Jones who reckons he would love to go off and open a Blues club but in this current environment where cheap off license booze is killing large taverns and iconic student bars alike he should actually open a supermarket with a bar in it!

The final spill on the pool table felt, closing night 2010

So Gardies is gone, I’d like the university to remember this line when deciding the fate of any future bars or elements of student culture they deem undesirable, “Otago University has one massive point of difference that is, you can get a degree anywhere but you can only be a Scarfie in Dunedin”, for how much longer only time will tell.

Author: Mark Wilson

Photos: Mark Wilson/Mark 'Messy' Meddlicott

NEW ZEALAND'S MOST BEAUTIFUL LAKE

2011-03-21T04:13:00.000-07:00

Mark Wilson on Lake Manapouri,Fiordland National Park.

Anywhere else in the world within 150km’s of an international airport you would expect tranquil lake waters to be filled with the incessant hum of jet skis, sandy beaches to be punctuated by topless Scandinavians and the odd local merchant selling knock off Oakley’s, lake shores would be heavily clustered with the mansions of the A-list elite and the main street garnished in layers of pompous metro-sexualism, fancy knickknack stores and designer dog clothes.

Lake Manapouri from Manapouri Township

Not little old Manapouri, tucked away in the South west corner of New Zealand’s South Island this glacially carved lake skirted in native forest has escaped the ravages of commercial development. Manapouri and its 200 odd residents have slipped through the baby boom, the tourism boom and property boom relatively unscathed. It even had its own hermit until recently. He spent a decade capturing the images of Manapouri’s many moods and if you can find his photos they are well worth a look.

The splash of a kayak paddle as it breaks the mirror surface of the lake on a misty winter’s morning is only briefly disturbed by one of the few tourist launches that ply these usually tranquil waters giving those fortunate enough to have stumbled across this almost clandestine tourism gem a lift deeper into the one of the world’s largest and most pristine national parks. The beaches some which carry yellow and whites sands that would not look out of place in Rio are empty, more than one boat per beach except the townships main beach (Frasers) is strictly forbidden by local unwritten courtesies. Holiday cribs/batches as they are known in New Zealand sit interlaced with newer slightly more upmarket models which are still 3^rd world compared to Tahoe.

The thing that most strikes you about the place is the serenity, its quiet, and when you are used to being from any built up area you have never heard this type of silence. People have been known to cry as the engines on the Fiordland Navigator idle to a halt for the so called ‘sound of silence’ in Doubtful Sound which is a scenic boat and bus ride from Manapouri via the West Arm.

Home to New Zealands largest power station built entirely inside a 1400m high solid granite mountain, Manapouri's West Arm also plays host to the terminus of the 8 day Dusky Track one of the worlds hardest yet most rewarding walks.

Real Journeys one of New Zealand’s largest tourism companies cut its teeth here, Les Hutchins its founder lived on the shores of the lake. Hutchins was so impressed by its alluring natural beauty that by the time he was a young adult in the 1950’s he conducting small boat tours with guided walks over the 671m Wilmot Pass. The Wilmot pass is the route still used today to access Doubtful sound except Les’s old boat the MV Pilgrim has been replaced by a high speed modern catamaran and trek over the Wilmot pass replaced with a comfortable coach and full nature commentary.

The overwhelming principal of showing off this pristine part of the world still remains the motivator for the many operators who are on hand show you round all the nooks and cranny’s of Lake Manapouri’s winding shoreline and its 34 Islands. With everything from guided sea kayak adventures through fishing and hunting charters to fully air conditioned and catered boat cruises there is something to suit even the most intrepid travellers tastes.

The tales of Maori excursions here are like the mountains on a claggy day shrouded in a little mystery and there is more than one tale about their naming of the lake. Manapouri has had 2 other names, Roto-au meaning the rainy lake, and from time to time this could not be truer but it is this rainfall that has given rise to the sea of green rainforest which blankets the lowlands and clings like a besotted girlfriend to the steep mountains that surround most of the lake. It has also been known as Moturau which translated means lake of many islands, very apt indeed.

Hunting at Lake Lois, Near Lake Manapouri, Fiordland National Park

With wet springs, hot summers and cold dry winters the climate is very seasonal but as famous kiwi band Crowded House so famously put it New Zealand can have four seasons in one day and it is these days that bring out the true beauty of this moody lake. In winter frost and freezing fog can hang over a dead calm lake and clear to a blue bird day with majestic snow capped mountains making a canvas worthy background for the discerning photographer, yet just as quickly as the sun emerged it can be swallowed up by the next storm front encroaching from the west, the wind whips the peaceful lake into a frenzy of white caps and the snow drapes a white carpet over the rain forest only to be gone by nightfall leaving starts brighter than Las Vegas strobes illuminating the clear cool night sky.

Fisherman Lake Manapouri, Fiordland National Park

By summer the lake plays host ever so briefly to a influx of kiwi holiday makers who crack out the jandels, fire up the BBQ and fuel up the boat for a day on the beach, a spot of fishing or hunting and maybe even a peaceful kayak across the dark green waters stained from tannin in the tree leaves washed into the lake by the rain.

Kayak on Circle Cove Beach - Lake Manapouri, Fiordland National Park

If there is person on earth you need to impress with a view, if there is something you have wanted to say but never could find the peace and quiet to say it, if you have searched for the most beautiful of lakes to grace our land then you need go no further.

Enjoying a Moment in the Winter Sun, Lake Manapouri, Fiordland National Park.

Manapouri a place where you and your everyday troubles, trials and stresses pail into insignificance against the most stunning of backdrops.

Written by – Mark Wilson, Inappropriate Magazine

Images by – Mark Wilson

Supporting Blog for NZ

FULL MOON FEVER, THAILAND

2011-03-20T15:13:00.000-07:00

Mark Wilson recollects what he can from Thailand's famous full moon party.

It’s billed as must do and after 5 days in and around Thailand’s Koh Pha-Ngan Island for the fabled Full Moon Party I can concur it’s an eye opening, exciting if not a little scary experience.

Getting to Koh Pha-Ngan Thailand’s 5th Largest Island from New Zealand is like most things in Asia, easy as pie in the brochure and travel guide, but in reality there are a few hurdles and challenges along the way. Flights to Thailand are numerous, budget seekers can sneak through Australia to Bangkok on Air Asia or some concoction of budget carriers direct if you’re extremely lucky or via a series of Asian hub cities. From all accounts it’s long and painstaking but you can save a good amount of dosh if you have the time and patience. I took the far more convenient and comfortable Air New Zealand option which actually sees you flying on code share partner Thai Airways direct form Auckland. Yes it shifted a little more gorse from the trouser pocket but when you arrive in a big, hot smelly Asian city you at least want to do feeling as fresh as possible.

After arriving I snuck through Bangkok stealthily overnight staying close to the airport leaving the ping pong ball shows for another time. I made my hastily retreat from ‘One Quiet Night in Bangkok’ aboard Asia’s so called boutique carrier Bangkok Airlines, very friendly folk determined even on the shortest flight to provide a full meal service even if the poor Thai Hostess’s are hurriedly wheeling trolleys at a 45 degree angle down the aisle about 4 minutes after takeoff. There are numerous options available by land but few by air so I transited through the Island of Koh Samui home to the nearest Air Port to Koh Pha-Ngan.

As I travelled away from the Airport the bill boards educated me to the fact that in addition to the Full Moon Party the Thai’s have got sneaky diversifying the market and to include, half moon, black moon and every other sort of moon parties on Haad Rin Nok Beach.

It was in Koh Samui where not only the air conditioning but also the comfort and personal space began to wane as you embark on a 45 minute ferry crossing from the Big Budda Beach pier, which resembles a cattle yard. Like the transition from Air New Zealand flight to ferry over an often rough Foveaux straight things can get messy and a little more uncomfortable from this point on as you cross the 20km stretch of water to Koh Pha-Ngan.

The ferry looks as if it had its keel laid about World War Two probably about the same time the pier was last given a safety check and the rest of the world, Asia and the Indian Subcontinent excluded discovered sewage treatment and water purification. Plastic bags cover eroded and worn looking electronics panels the engine room has no door and the toilets are one step down from a bed pan.

There is obviously no workplace health and safety regulations of any note in Thailand nor any rules regarding the number of Full Moon Party bound revellers the archaic ferry could swallow and it was in true Thai style crammed to the hilt in a messy and disorganised fashion. A slight roll and an overloaded ferry combined to see a fair few wet and sick passengers which provided mild entertainment value for those fortunate enough to be sitting more than a few spots back from the windows.

The Haad Rin pier does nothing to dispel myth of health and safety being simply nonexistent here as three Thai wielders go about their work with no safety helmet and their power leads dangling in the water in at least two spots.

The township of Haad Rin is nearly 100% reliant on tourism, every inch of space is utilised to hire scooters and quad bikes, sell buckets (a full moon party staple filled with an assortment of spirits and mixers) food, tattoos, tourist nik naks, Thia massages with the without happy endings as well as plenty with them and piercings to any body part imaginable.

The streets like most Asian countries are barely wide enough to swing a sheep in, and it’s not a rare occurrence for a 500 metre walk to take 15 minutes by taxi when things get bottlenecked. Walking once you have your bearings presuming you can hack the heat is often the best way to travel. If you’re going further afield have a Visa limit the size of New Zealand’s foreign debt to cover any possible accidents and don’t mind dodging dogs, other motorists, stray children and tourists then scooters are cheap to hire and run.

Accommodation is plentiful but booking can ensure you don’t miss the good stuff and lay your head somewhere up a long dirt road called the comfort suites which looked far from comfortable unless you’re a cockroach, or even worse a 45 minute ride from the action. I managed by pure fluke to hit the jack pot with no research and very little foresight booked at the Phangan Buri Resort on Had Rin Nai Beach. It’s a large, relatively modern, moderately priced at $2500 to $3200 Thai Baht for a double room and only 5 minutes walk to the full moon party or 1 minute to the famed Coral Bungalow pool parties.

Like any major event the nights leading up are often the most action packed, by game day many have peaked early and energy levels are wholly dependent on the cheap knock off red bull syrup that is mixed with everything you drink in these parts. Waking up the next day after a few too many buckets laced with Thai Red Bull is not the one of the world’s most pleasant experiences, heart rate pumping along at 150 beats per minute and hands feel like they are attached to someone else’s arms.It seems the thing to do as a party goer is to adorn yourself with this fluorescent body paint prior to heading down to the beach somewhere towards midnight. A decent crew was assembled from the resort with Southland lasses, the Patton Sisters and Brit North in tow for good measure and to provide painting services for anyone wanted to have ‘Go Stags’ or ‘I love NZ’ inked onto their sweaty carcass. Needless to say there was a good deal of explaining to confused looking foreigners about who the Stags were.

The beach itself is absolute mayhem mixed with considerable pandemonium and a good deal of filth. Constant doof doof music blares from the speakers, while every conceivable form of entertainment mainstream and alternative competes for space and attention along the beachfront. With all the action on the beach bars are reduced simply to glorified toilets each with a cover charge for your patronage, alternatively those wanting to add to the level of pollution already washing over the comatose souls sloshing in the shallows can opt for the outdoor free and seemingly more popular sea option. Drinks are all served from beachside stalls each with their own unique phrase based around the default line ‘No Bucket, No Boom Boom’ It’s not somewhere you would want to take your mum, children or anyone overly sensitive to alcohol, sex, loud noise or flashing lights. It’s a maze of dancing, tracing, drinking, sense altering revelry and familiar relations of all kinds. Watch out for the pick pockets, Thai prostitutes, drug peddlers and fire skipping if you’re uncoordinated. Keep a good group together in one spot so you have somewhere to return to after your take a wander to check out the mayhem up and down the beach. The whole beachfront is relatively busy but there are some more quiet spots at one end for a timeout if things get too much or simply head back to the street and grab a feed from the many cheap stalls. Prices seem to go up for the full moon but by the time you get there you shouldn’t need to purchase much more alcohol.

If you do get carried away on the buckets the next day makes your regular New Zealand hangover looks like a pink fairy handing out candy in the parking lot. Staying close is great for getting back to your bed if you do manage it after the party, but there are an abundance of Taxi’s and other travellers heading further afield just don’t fall asleep and forget your stop! Things die completely after the party and a new crowd comes to town, an extra night’s stay is the go as travelling in the state most people are in afterwards is sure to end in a shambles. Things are busy getting out so expect another crammed ferry ride and long sweaty waits.

You should end up with some new friends, your eyes opened, a moderate sized hole in your wallet, a liver in need of a break and a piercing or tattoo seem to be common also. You hope you don’t end up with, a piercing or tattoo by accident, a lost passport, a broken limb from a scooter crash, stolen camera, some form of disease picked up from an unprotected adventure or from frolicking in the septic water on Full Moon night all of which are distinct possibilities for the unlucky or nonsensical traveller. Travel light, take cash as its far easier, book in advance but ask people who have been where best, pack is your black insulation tape to patch up holes in your feet and to attach your adaptor to the derelict plug system for charging cameras and phones. Don’t expect things to be clean and do expect to have to barter and bargain for a deal but overall it’s an exciting holiday one I would totally recommend for anyone under 30.

Author: Mark Wilson

Photos: Mark Wilson/Rahul Govada

BAY TO BREAKERS, SAN FRANCISCO, USA

2011-03-19T17:19:00.000-07:00

Mark Wilson Travels to San Francisco and get involved in the worlds largest footrace.

Unlocked to western civilisation by accident after Spanish explorers took a wrong turn en route to Monterey Bay to the South; San Francisco is packed nicely into a 12km by 12km zone cresting a narrow peninsula that juts out into San Francisco Bay.

Perfect spot for a city, less the fog most would say, perfect spot for a running race the odd more athletic individual may say? The ING Bay to Breakers like most events needed a catalyst and for lack of a galactic invasion by crab people you couldn’t pick a much more deceive and life changing event for the city of San Francisco than the devastating magnitude 7.9 Earthquake which shock the city in 1906 and along with subsequent fires destroyed over half the city claiming 3000 plus lives. From the ashes rose a San Francisco determined to rebuild. The city embarked on a rapid and far reaching reconstruction plan and implemented series of events to restore the pride and self esteem of the populace culminating in 1915 with Panama-Pacific International Exposition. Officially a celebration to mark the completion of the Panama Canal in reality it was a sort of self proclaimed world fair to showcase the city’s new face.

Athletics were a big part of this event and in 1912 in order to prepare for the Pan Pacific events and as morale booster slash possible distraction from the grind of rebuilding a whole city San Francisco held its first major foot race. Running from the downtown area a few blocks from The Embarcadero (adjacent to San Francisco Bay) west through the city finishing at the Grand Highway on the Pacific Coast some 7.46 miles or in Kiwi terms 12km. Nearly a century later this race has become a fully immersive and interactive entertainment event that must rate in the upper echelon for any traveler to the USA.

Held annually on the third Sunday in May the race earned the nickname Bay to Breakers in 1964. From humble beginnings with some mere 200 runners in 1912 the race set the Guinness world record in 1986 for the world’s largest footrace when it attracted 78’769 runners and 110’000 competitors in total, with the range of outlandish attire on display it also attracts upwards of 100’00 spectators, numbers simply mind boggling to a New Zealander who gets crowd anxiety dealing 25’000 people watching the rugby.

I kicked a goal with my group as it was organised with deft military efficiency, there was colour coded tickets, signup sheets, a cooler truck full of beer and vodka jelly shots as well as a great variety of Bay Watch style get ups, most of which didn’t feature a lot of material hence my dark glasses were implemented despite the lack of any form of sunlight piercing the layer of low cloud. Pamela Anderson would have been proud of the fairer sexes attire and accompanying fake nipples, not that they were required as the cold ensured many a real nipple made a prominent appearance. First beers and or vodka jelly shots were cracked at 8.00am in an effort to drink our coats as they say. It was failing and even my “I’m from Invercargill I don’t get cold” stance was sorely tested. However I did not falter and take out option of the free singlet and in true David Hasselhoff style bared my chest for the entire duration of the event.

It seems to take an eternity to get through downtown into what would be classed over there as suburbs over here as more downtown. As the building heights diminish the course hits the hills and floats become a dangerous thing to be around. Later in the race I saw the results of a tangle with a float on the downhill, the comment painfully exclaimed by some little bloke as we went past went something like this “your float my foot”. He was a bloodied mess but with his pain dulled by the alcohol he was determined to make the finish. You can’t quite grasp the scale of the race until you look down from the Hayes street hill and see that despite the fact thousands of people have passed you and the runners have long hit the showers there are still twenty or so thousand people trailing about 1km behind you and every vantage point be it 3rd floor windows, roof tops or cherry picker baskets is occupied by fascinated often also costumed onlookers.

Before touching on the colour and contrast of Bay to Breakers it seems prudent to touch on the serious running component of the event which has doubled as USA national team selection race, was in the 1980’s prior to Kiwi sport denting our running mana won by Kiwi Rod Dixon twice and holds the world record for the fastest road run 12km. However now like the city of San Francisco itself it is more well known more for its colourful diversity, eclectic mix of characters, severe lack of inhibitions and often clothing as well as its pure unadulterated entertainment value. Imagine taking the entire crowd of the Wellington Sevens, complete with costumes, cloning everyone at least twice before sending them off running, walking and dancing through the Capital to Lyall bay on the Pacific Coast. Why not bus in 100’000 curious spectators form the Hutt and Porirua to line the course and you may be able to fathom the insanity that is Bay to Breakers.

You can either enter officially through www.ingbaytobreakers.com or participate unregistered which accounts for a large portion of the field. To join the entertaining ranks of the unregistered bandits Jump on the internet, god forbid facebook and find a group or in true who wants to be a millionaire style phone a friend like I did and become part of theirs. Each group shares a common theme; often a float to be hand pulled complete with music and will have a meeting point with a high likelihood of some form of alcohol being provided as part of your fee. These groups are set up by bars, websites, business’s, groups of mates and charge a fee to cover the costs of the float, cheap t-shirt or themed sun glasses and of course the alcohol.

I dragged my weary head from the pillow at 5.15am to begin preparations which was a battle considering the events of the previous 24 hours which included the 11th annual San Francisco Oyster Festival and visit to the Marina districts local hot spot Balboa. Being a running race and technically being almost summer things get underway early to beat the heat. Well it was almost summer but it was also fog season so the only heat on offer was from my fellow Bay Watch themed participants hot blazed red/orange Pamela Anderson style swim suits complete with accompanying cold induced nipple stiffening. I was told not to wear or take with me anything non essential so in true Dunedin O-Week styles I took a wad of cash, my camera and a house key attached to my whistle lanyard. The whistle of course being a key accessory to the Bay Watch theme.

It takes a while for things to get going, the real runners depart sometime prior to 9.00am or this is what I could gather from the crowd who had never actually ran the event. Standing on the side of the course somewhere near the start looking for a spot to have my first of many public displays of bladder relief I watched in awe as the seemingly endless stream of whacky get ups ran, walked, danced and skipped past. It took over 40 minutes for our float to catch up to us, obviously this was New Zealand fun run and getting lost early on is easy so it’s best to stick with your float at least that way you have slightly higher chance of finding any mislaid friends, inhibitions and or sobriety.

It was pure mayhem, pushing, shoving, walking, running, loud and often tacky music, beer being thrown, water pistols, horse whips not to mention an excessive array of naked participants and before you get excited these are not the sort of people you want to see naked. It would be fair to say that some of those nether regions hadn’t seen the light of day since last Bay to Breakers while others had been out and about a little too much and would have been better off at a mardi gra after party or on the set of Bruno. One may be forgiven for thinking they have arrived somewhere further South with tacos being thrown left right and centre which is an apparent tradition for the slower participants to help pass the time.

Females I would recommend taking a look at this site http://p-standingup.com as despite that fact there are over 700 porta loo’s you have virtually no chance of avoiding a public squat incident in a park, in an alleyway or even in the street. It’s dangerous times and even if you manage to dodge the floats and the spawning salmon who run upstream against the crowd you may just end up in a puddle of urine so keep your wits about you at all times. The race leaves the hustle of the city and live music and spectators wane as you hit Golden Gate Park and the floats depart the course.

The last 3 miles of the journey is along tree lined streets snaking through Golden Gate Park. Only the diehard costumed participants make this phase of the journey. It’s now 2.00pm and half of my friends are either in bed or at the pub but a small elite unit of team Bay Watch is still trucking determined to see the ocean. What had been a crew of over 400 had diminished to less than a dozen. An impromptu dance party underneath an overpass fooled weary participants into thinking they had made the finish truth be known we never did as we reached a gate which had closed off the final few hundred meters of the course hours before we got there. Despite the slight anti climax it was a relief to be on with my top and off to the busses.

The bus trip back was nearly as entertaining as the day with many a festive Bay to Breakers reveller carrying on their party aboard San Francisco’s cheap and efficient municipal transit system. Despite the early white flag due to the long day and quite a few drinks it was a magnificent experience, a must see. My horizons were not only broadened by what I had the fortune and sometimes misfortune of seeing (I’m referring here to the ‘Gay Life Guard’ groups togs) they were picked up slapped around a little and categorically annihilated by this colourful celebration of uniqueness and diversity.

To thrive in Bay to Breakers, find a good themed group, hydrate sufficiently the day prior, take a waterproof and preferably indestructible camera, leave any other valuables at the hotel or hostel and check out the weather forecast to access the degree to which you are going to join the nudies in baring your skin. Group entries range from free to $40 USD and will often include your alcohol and some form of memento. If you do survive the whole affair there are busses are on hand to redistribute you back to the city centre, don’t even bother trying a cab these take a while at the best of times let alone with 70’000 other people wanting one. Having an idea of the transit system and possible a route map will increase your chances of a short ride to the right place. If you want some more tips from the experts see http://www.metrowize.com/articles/top-10-bay-to-breakers-tips

Interesting Facts and Figures
• Bay to Breakers is the 14th most run road race in the world and 4th longest consecutively run.
• As of 2009 over 2.2million people had participated in the event in its 98 years.
• 1940 saw the first female runner ‘Bobbie Burke’ participate disguised as a man now many men participate disguised as women
• In 1986 with 78,769 registered runners and 110,000 total participants, the Guinness Book of World Records awards Bay to Breakers the title of World’s Largest Footrace.
• In 2009 Sammy Kitwara of Kenya ties the world’s fastest time ever for 12k and sets a new course record with a time of 33:31
• 90,000 - number of recyclable water cups used per race (almost 10km of cups if placed end to end)

Getting There
Air New Zealand have direct flights from Auckland International Airport, Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday evenings departing at 7.30pm, with return flights from San Francisco International Airport on the same days at 9.00pm PST/PDT (Pacific Standard Time - Winter/Pacific Daylight Time/Summer) see www.airnz.co.nz for full flight information or to make a booking.
Remember even though NZ is a member of the Visa Waiver Programme you will need to register your impending arrival online prior to leaving NZ to ensure you are granted entry into the USA.

Carry on after Bay to Breakers
1) Balboa Cafe - 3199 Fillmore Street, http://www.balboacafe.com/plumpjackbalboacafe/sf.aspx?loc=sf , Don’t let the fancy decor and refined website fool you this place cranks in the evenings.
2)Kozy Car - 1548 Polk Street, http://www.mazeltovproductions.com/ . What other bar has porn clips laced with the regular TV clips on screen, blink for a little too long and you miss it but its there all the same and that’s only the beginning of the uniqueness of this place. imagine it could be full of weirdo’s from time to time but definitely worth a look.

Anything Else
Get to a live comedy show if you can, Alcatraz is great on a really misty dull day, you get the real atmosphere, try Bodin Bakery’s Clam Chowder in San Francisco sour dough, they have many outlets so Google maps should give you the best option. Take a wander through the mission district any of you art lovers and boarder line hippies will surely unearth some of the hidden gems tucked away within the art deco streets and gentrified buildings.

Author: Mark Wilson

Photos: Mark Wilson/Melinda Hoffart