South: Part I

So, I don't know if it was because it was February 29th, or what, but I had a hell of a day last Friday. Let me preface this little tale by saying that getting my motorcycle into New Zealand has been a nightmare. Customs took possession of the bike around January 10th, if I remember correctly, which I may not BECAUSE IT WAS SO GOD DAMN LONG AGO. Customs had it for weeks and weeks, and every week they would call me and tell me that they needed more paperwork sent in, or a form filled out. I did everything they asked. I mean, you don't really have much of a choice. so after they've had the thing for about 6 weeks, it's finally released to VINZ, which is kind of the equivalent of the part of the DMV that deals with the car, so that it can be inspected and approved for a plate. I get a call from VINZ from a guy who was incensed that I would attempt to bring such a miserable excuse for a motorcycle into his country. He seemed to be taking it pretty personally. At this point, it's already been a huge issue, but now, it's taken so long to go through the process that my trip is coming up fast and I'm now under a time limit, so, off it goes to the bike shop for new front fork seals, a new front tire, disconnection of my headlight and brake light flashers and various and sundry other ticky-tack things. I'm supposed to leave for the South Island in 8 days . I'm told that everything should be done by Monday evening. Tuesday, I call, and get told end of tomorrow. The next day I get told Thursday. Thurs-fucking-day afternoon I get told tomorrow morning again. This is now officially a problem because I'm supposed to meet everyone at a cafe at 9:00 am the next day to get on the ferry. I've already paid for my ticket. Finally, finally, at 11:00 Friday I get a call from the bike shop. Eight fucking days and $750 later, they've sent the bike back to VINZ. I've called the ferry in the mean time to see about catching the 2:15 ferry. What the hell, right? I'll be a few hours behind. Well, I would be, if the 2:15 trip wasn't sold fucking out. The 6:00 ferry is not sold out, however so I make a reservation, not pay mind you, just reserve a spot for me and one motorcycle. Now I cal VINZ and ask how long it will take to do whatever it is they need to do to get me my motorcycle back before 4:00, so that I can be at the wharf by 5:00 to get on the 6:00 ferry. The man who takes vehicle importation into his country so personally informs me "maybe". I don't even know what the fuck it is that they need to do. Not too long after I get off the phone with VINZ, W gets a call and the same angry man informs her that VINZ is going to need the pink slip for the bike and the papers for shipping the bike to NZ from Japan and that there was no way I could get the bike back until I got them that paperwork. Which is interesting since the bike came from Southern California, and we had already couriered them the California title about two weeks before. W makes the call, and I agree, I threw my gear in the back of the Toyota and we drive up to Lower Hutt to see, exactly, what the fuck is going on.

Now I've left out quite a bit already, but to make a long story even shorter, the practical upshot was that they had misplaced the title and literally all that needed to be done was to give them my name and address, fill out one form and pay. That's it. This bureaucratic, dipshit, dumbass, lazy, big turd in a little bowl just couldn't find my title, and didn't want to be bothered to do his fucking job and find it. And that was the reason I was going to miss my trip? Fuck you Mr. VINZ guy. W got all up in some poor girl's grill that VINZ already had the damn title. A few minutes of looking and, imagine that, there it was. Forms filled out, another couple hundred in fees (what the hell, it's only money right? at this point I'm just watching the clock) and it's done. I am in posession of my motorcycle, but, am not out of the woods just yet.

I get gas, get back home, pack the gear, load the bike and head out. I figure it's not too bad, leave at 6:00 get to Picton at 9:00 get to Kaikoura by 10:30, which isn't bad, but isn't really great either, considering that I was suppoed to already be there. And since I only reserved a spot on the 6:00 boat I have to be there by 5:00 to pay, or they'll give my spot away, so if I don't get to the wharf by 5:00, the point, as they say, will be moot.

Phew, that's a hell of a back story, and I really did just hit the high points, and as you can see here ...

... I made it. In fact, I made it just in time to find out that the 6:00 ferry was running about forty five to fifty minutes behind. Are you kidding me? So I took off my motorcycle pants, rolled them up, used them as a pillow and laid down right there, right there on the pavement and took a nap, for about forty five minutes. Eventually we got on, motorcycles first. yay! It was kind of weird, there were bike spots ...

... and each spot had a chock for the front wheel, but you had to tie your bike down yourself ...

... all I could think of for the first hour of the boat ride was "jesus christ I hope I did a good job tying my bike down". All I needed was to come down when we got to Picton to find that my bike had spent the last three hours rolling around the car hold of the ferry. Or that the sheep had crapped all over it ...

... the hold was full of cows, sheep and stink. Yikes.

Well, since the only way the day could get any worse is if the god damn boat just got halfway across the Cook Straight and then up and fucking sank, I'm pretty grateful that finally, finally, I am on my way.

And only nine hours behind.