My Jaunt

In 1981, Stephen King's short story, The Jaunt, was published. It was classed as horror I understand, although it was set about 300 years in the future and was about teleportation. Personally, I think it was mainly a sci-fi story.  

The plot of the story was that teleportation had been invented and had become so  completely commonplace that it had revolutionised the world. And it was safe, safe that is, as long as you were asleep when you were teleported. If you were awake, well, things were very different for you then.  The passage of time did not appear the same from the standpoint of those observing the teleportation, versus those experiencing the teleportation, while awake. 

I've included a link to the story here:

https://gist.github.com/Schemetrical/6184daf83843bcab9402

I was thinking about this story today as I was considering riding into Auckland to pick up some Portuguese bread from a place on K' Road. 

• Auckland is a long, ways off. 
• However, the buses that would take me there and back, are free. 
• Therefore, only my time spent travelling to the bakery should be considered as part of the cost of obtaining the bread. Consider this; 
• Allie is engrossed in writing, Jeanne is deep in a book, and both boys are sick and are spending their afternoon alternately snoozing and playing computer games. 
• No one is actually aware of what I am doing. I could stay quiet and unseen in my room at my computer, or I could leave the house and return with the bread without being missed in the least. Since that is the case, shouldn't I then consider that my time (from their viewpoint) is also free?
• To my family, nothing at all would exist on the cutting board until the moment bread would appear, much as if it had been teleported.
•  I alone would have entered the device that would transport me to the center of the city, so far away. I alone would have experienced the trip to that distant bakery. I alone would have been conscious of the passage of time.
• Could I do it? Should I do it. Did I do It?

The boy in the story who experienced teleportation to Mars while awake was not able to share much about his experience. Oh, he commented briefly on it to his dad after they arrived, and then demonstrated in other ways just how he felt. (I think that might have been the horror part of the story.)

I, on the other hand, am able to show you some of what I experienced during my jaunt. Keeping watching...I didn't think the trip was long at all. In fact, I was back in no time...

 Since I didn't know how long I'd be travelling, I took a moment before I left to appreciate these colors.

This is the device I was placed in to be transported. It should happen any moment now...

As I waited for the device to activate, I looked out at Sturges Road....

 Wow, this guy is really flying....

 Here he comes...

Ahhhh, it's happening. We are travelling .... I don't know how fast.....

 I am aware...the device is swaying...

 I am aware .. changes are occurring in the orientation of the device...We're going much faster....colors are changing...

 We have arrived at K' Road.

 Yes, undoubtedly K' Road.

It's almost a different world here..But it doesn't feel as though I have spent any time at all....

Oooomphfff. 

...and there he goes. 

Boy, that was fast. Here I am back again and with my bread.  

I've got to write to King. His ideas about time and teleportation are screwy...              -djf

Otahuhu, then and now

To get to Otahuhu, I take our Western Line train to Britomart and then transfer to the Eastern line. It's in, as you might be able to guess by looking at the stacks of railroad car containers in the picture below, an industrial suburb of Auckland. I pass through it on my way to Martha's Backyard. I did spend part of a day there though, some time back. 

It was in the Otahuhu area that I once walked, alone and unaided by a support crew, the entire width of New Zealand AND back again! It's true! There are lots of famous hiking trails all over NZ, and in my own mind I believe that by accomplishing this feat, I established a new trail which I call the Foster Trail. (Unfortunately, no one else has paid any attention to my unparalleled achievement and I'm the only one who recognises the Foster Trail.) 

And now for the rest of the story...  (remember Paul Harvey?)

It just so happens that the Otahuhu area is where the North Island is the narrowest. There are bays on both the western (Tasman Sea) and the eastern (Pacific Ocean) sides of the island that almost meet. There are about 3 kilometers of land between the bodies of water here, measured as the crow (or here, as the tui) flies. When I realized this, back in 2013, I made a plan to walk all the way from one side to NZ to the other, and back again, all in one day. On the roads I took, that distance is 3.3 kilometers. (one direction)

I had a good time. I got off the train within sight of the Tasman Sea and walked over to a city park on the Pacific side. I snooped around the park, rested a bit, ate my sandwich, and then walked back. There may be some who try to minimize my sojourn, but, I did in fact walk the width of New Zealand that day. (and back) 

Well, that's the background info on Otahuhu. The two pictures below show its old-time railroad terminal and the new.                                                                   -djf

Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we are pleased to present, all the way from the South Pacific Islands, Kava and the Kavalactones! Put your hands together! (And grab a shell)

The paragraph below is an excerpt from a post I did quite some time ago. 

What does make me happiest about this experience is that I had the chance to try it at all. My nose was to the grindstone as the old saying goes for about 38 years during my working career. And now, after all that, I'm being given a period of rest, relaxation and revitalisation. I'm seeing and doing things I never dreamed that I'd be doing. That's definitely enough to make an old codger like me a little euphoric. I don't really need any kava for that.  -djf  

The rest of that post, should you want to see it, can be found at the link below.

https://fostersoe.blogspot.com/2018/05/if-god-did-not-intend-for-us-to-eat.html

I am particularly pleased to be doing this post. I had a delightful experience today. As you see, I've prefaced this introduction by reminding you of that post that is in part about kava. I was a kava rookie then, a neophyte. I experimented with making some kava I found at a local grocery, but the results were far from satisfactory. (Something like the time I tried to teach myself the violin.) 

My adventure today changed all that. Allie told me recently about the opening of a place in Auckland called, Four Shells Kava Room and Shop. Today I found it. They make kava there. They are experts. They know how to do it the right way and all I had to do was decide which island's kava I would like to try. Since another guy at the bar had just ordered Hawaiian, I said I'd have some of that too.  Gotta start somewhere.... 

I've got a bunch of pictures. (Dianne, I wish we had been able to take you there when you visited. Let's plan on it for your next trip.)

 So, what does a city do with a big old municipal complex?

 Well, Auckland decided to sandblast (I suppose) all the brickwork, paint it up a bit and give it a new lease on life.  Divide the space up and let a bunch of retail shops, restaurants, cafes, and, best of all, (in my opinion) a kava room move in. 

 Those of you who know me, know that I like to be early wherever I go. I found the place a little after 1 pm. It opens at 2, so I spent some time wandering around Victoria Park, which is just across the street, and then back within this complex. 
You'll see lots of the photos I took in future posts. 

 It's 2:15 and here I am again. Let's go in. 

 I'm standing at the bar.

 I think I'll start with just a kava.

 I took a moment to look around. You know from my posts about New Lynn how I love brickwork. This place feels cozy to me as a result. 

 Not a big intimidating space. Comfortable. Almost homey. 

 I turn back in time to see my kava being prepared. 

 I've enjoyed about two-thirds of my shell** already. I'm pleased with the experience. My home made kava was extremely bitter. This is much less so. I also immediately noticed that my mouth felt just a bit of numbing...this must be the real thing.  

**Kava was traditionally drunk from coconut shells in the islands. For obvious reasons, bowls are now used but the term 'shell' still describes a single measure or serving. 

 I told you that I had asked to try Hawaiian kava, but I also sampled some from, I think, Vanuatu. It had a different flavor than the Hawaiian. I don't remember how many varieties they have here but I'd like to try them all eventually.

And this time, for the fist time since I've been trying kava, I was aware that it does indeed provide a gentle calming effect. It was subtle, but it was there. To say I felt euphoric, like one article I read suggested,  would be going much too far.  It was a pleasant feeling but not at all like drinking alcohol. As I left the shop and hurried to catch the Inner Link bus back to Great North Road, I felt completely in control. There was no loss of ability of any kind, but as I sat on the bus I was aware of a quiet pleasure. 
Part of that pleasure may very well have been the simple satisfaction of having tried properly made kava for the first time. Or of having had an interesting conversation with knowledgeable and friendly hosts for the better part of an hour.  Just think, I have now shared something that has been a part of the South Pacific island culture for thousands of years. That, to me, is significant and a cause for joy.  
I brought a 750 ml. bottle of kava back so Jeanne and Allie could try it. They both reported quietly pleasurable, relaxing feelings after sharing the bottle. And the mild mouth numbing. That is a unique feeling. 

The owner and his wife answered all my questions. I may be a new student (yeah, a really old new one, I know)  to the world of kava, but I know now where to go to study. 

The owner told me that there are over 100 kava rooms in the U.S. If you ever run across one, I strongly urge you to try a shell. You'll find the taste to be bitter, but the rest of the experience will be sweet as.     -djf

Here is the link to their website. 

https://www.fourshells.nz/

Update: Since I published this post, I have learned of the Kava Society, based here in New Zealand. Their site has a wealth of information. I suggest you take a look. Further, I found that the bags of kava that you see on the shelves come from the kava society. They select, test and report on the kava that they import into NZ. I think it's a great assurance of quality. 

https://kavasociety.nz/

A volcano closer to home, Mt. Albert

Are you getting tired of volcanic cones yet?  Gee, I hope not.  Let's see, I've done Mt. St. John, and Mt. Hobson (in two parts) so far. That leaves 51 more to go!
Today's offering to you (What a switch, I'm offering a volcano to you. As you learned from my comments about Joe, of movie fame, generally it's done the other way around.) is Mt. Albert. This is the volcano in Auckland's field that is closest to our home in Henderson. Mt Albert is also one of the stops on the Western Train Line. It was also a Pa, although the evidence that it was has been mostly destroyed. The very top of Mt. Albert was removed over a period of years. It's rocks were used in a multitude of building projects and even for ballast in ships. 
I read an interesting story about this Pa. It seems that this volcano, as it cooled and settled after the eruption, developed a tunnel. This is fairly common in this kind of volcano. (Rangitoto has some impressive ones.) This particular cave ran from near the top to a spot at the very bottom of the cone. The Maoris that lived on this Pa knew about the tunnel of course. The story goes that once, when they were attacked by a strong neighbouring tribe, the people escaped through the tunnel, all except the chief, who was too large to fit through its narrowest spot. 

The story ended there. It did not go on to say that the chief fed the attackers that day, but from what I learned at Mt. Hobson, I wouldn't doubt it.

I had hoped that there would still be evidence of the tunnel and climbed the hill with high hopes. Unfortunately, I couldn't find one. I asked two different groups of people I met on the top of the mount if they knew of any tunnel. None of them did.

I think that the rock quarrying they did probably destroyed the thing, if it ever was really there.

So, let's go. You're lucky. This was a big hill to climb. Every step I took after leaving the train was up hill. You get to lean back and click to climb. Enjoy...

 I'm sitting on a bench in the downtown area, sipping on this explorer's favorite beverage, chocolate milk.  Well, maybe not my very favorite one, but it's 11:00 a.m. What do you expect?

The moss growing on this wet sidewalk looked so vibrant, I wanted to show it to you. Doesn't show up in the photo quite as nicely as I would have hoped, but...

I've noticed at all the volcanic sites I've visited so far, that there are very nice homes on the slopes. 

Here is another nice home. This shot shows the slope of the hill too. The top of the cone is in the background. 

Finally at the gate.

This is an area just above the gate. It's one of the areas where rock was removed. It's now a soccer field. 

This is an archery course. 

 I'm heading up the road to the top

 You've seen one of these markers on Mt. Hobson. 

This sign is not in very good shape, but it does show the amount of rock removed. 

Just to the right of the centre of the picture, you can see a whitish building with a tower crane sticking up above it. (No, that's not Jeff. He's in Newmarket.**) That is in Glen Eden. Those are the Waitakeres in the background. We live off to the right of that building and about as far away again as Glen Eden is from Mt. Albert. 

** In this post: https://fostersoe.blogspot.com/2018/12/some-gum-to-play-with-but-not-for-eat.html

I was surprised that I could see all the way to Manukau Harbor. 

 I've turned around now almost 180 degrees and can see Waitemata Harbor. I think you can see that it's low tide. 

 A nice picnic spot

 It's hard to see the structure in this picture, but this is one of the few remaining terraced areas on this Pa. 

 I'm walking back down to the train now and pass this dry, stacked-stone wall.  

Hey, look at this bench. It's terraced too!

Well, I told you early in this adventure, that I was unsuccessful in finding the Mt. Albert tunnel that led the Maoris to safety so long ago. That is true. I was disappointed. 

However, I was mollified to some degree as I noted that Mt. Albert is not today totally bereft of tunnels. The next two photos show you the very efficient, and -wide- tunnel that gives access to the train station. Even a plus-sized chief could negotiate this tunnel with ease.      

Attackers today would not find anyone remaining behind to eat. They'd have to make do with kumara.               

This concludes my series (for now) of posts about volcanoes.  I'll no doubt climb some more in the future. Mt. Wellington might be next, but we'll see...            -djf

On top of Mt. Hobson

Welcome back to the top of Mt. Hobson. This was a Pa at one time. Pa can refer to any Maori village or defensive settlement, but it usually meant a hillfort. You can clearly see the defensive terraces here. I've read that the soil was very good here and there were many gardens of kumara all over the Pa area. 

I'll show you a few shots today of the top of the hill, some of the surrounding area and then finish by following a new path back down to the bottom of the hill. 

I got excited when I saw what I first thought was a cave. Then I could see that it had a gate over it. 

I walked down to see what is was and discovered that it the access tunnel to some water tanks. 

Back on the top again. On the left across the bay you see what appears to be one cone but is in fact two, Mt. Victoria and Mt. Cambria. On the right, some of you might recognize North Head. 

I think that's Mt. Eden.

There's little Mt. St. John that I visited recently.

None-Tree HIll again. 

Mt. Wellington. I like that one. Imagine it erupting. 

I'm heading back down now, but looking back up the hill at the terraces. 

No doubt about it, this would be a tough hill to climb with Maori warriors above me all the way. I think that the murdered girl was probably not the only casualty that day and the ovens may have been busy. 

Down at the entrance, I found this sign. 

I'm heading back toward the train station now but thought this gate was photo-worthy. 

A blooming tree  with Mt. Eden (I think) in the background.  I took this picture the last week in July, the middle of our winter, but plants all set their own schedules here.    -djf