The Big Finale

Well It's over!

After finishing my short stint at the farm, I flew back to Sydney, stayed a quiet night at a friend's house, and then caught a quick flight to LAX the next day.

I visited my Aunt & Uncle in LA for a night, and I was treated to a nice Japanese meal (Pictured below with cousins, from left to right, Patrick and Jonathon). I had a very restful nights sleep, and woke the next day to swim and play cards and plan my flight home.

It happened to be my Aunt Lisha's birthday that day, and in order to celebrate, her and my Uncle Tom were renting a limo, picking up some friends, and going to see a band play at the famous LA nightclub the Roxy. It worked out that I was able to catch a ride with them in the stretch limousine, cruise through Beverly Hills, drop them off at the club, and then proceeded to be driven to the airport in a limo.

I felt like such a fraud. Driving down Sunset Strip, by myself in a flashy car, I may have put off the image of a well-to-do movie producer or an up-and-coming rock star, but the truth remained that I was still a dorky midwesterner with 100 dollars to my name. This truth, of course, didn't stop me from sticking my head out of the sun roof and waving to the occasional passerby.

I went to the airport and eventually got on a flight, bringing me back to Chicago, and ultimately home. All and all, the summer was a great experience, which gave me a lot of time to reflect on who and what I feel is important and worthwhile in my life, which made me even more excited to get back into the swing of things in the city I love with the people who make it so great.

My birthday is this Monday the 15th, I move back up to Corcoran on the 17th to begin my fall RA training, and classes start sometime mid-September. I feel ready for the year and can't wait to see all of you around campus and elsewhere.

Thank you once again for reading any of these this summer. It was yet again another testament to all of the good things I have going for me in Chicago.

I'll see you soon.

Casey

Happy Days

Aaaaayyyyy.

Where in the World is Casey Michael Hudetz?

Let me tell you. No. Better yet. Let me show you.

Christchurch, the city most influenced by British architecture and style, is where I spent 2 days and 2 nights after leaving Queenstown. While I was there, I explored the more important areas of the city.

It lived up to its reputation with many cobblestone side streets, large courtyards surrounded by decorative brick buildings, ornate clock towers, cathedrals, art mueseums, and winding canals which weaved their way through it all. I happened to be there during an art festival, so lots of public art was on display and there were lots of free activities for me to partake in. Very nice.

The final leg of my trip, which I had been planning to do for a while, involves me doing a farm stay. In my mind's eye, I had seen myself working for a traditional New Zealand family, cultivating their many organic plants outdoors, while spending my evenings hearing of the many troubles and triumphs that a Kiwi (New Zealander) faces throughout their lifetime.

Well, as it turned out, the couple I'm staying with are Dutch immigrants from Holland, they own a Hydroponic (not Organic) tomato farm, and my work is done mainly in greenhouses. Ha!

Ellis & Fons Sanders moved to Christchurch, New Zealand about 15 years ago where Fons ran a Bakery and Ellis did all of the paperwork. After their children all grew up, they decided to start their own Hydroponic* Tomato Farm, and live a more quiet, simple life. A year after, they began taking on travelling farmers to help fill in the silent evenings they were getting sick of and help with the work that was becoming too much.

Ellis, the bookkeeper, farmer, cook, wife, & mother, is a very hardworking, no-nonsense kind of woman. The words "Freshly Baked," "Homegrown," and "Organic" are adjectives that are inseparable from the titles she gives all of her homecooked meals. This is the best I've eaten this whole summer. And let me tell you: the bowels, they are a' movin' (Warning: This Blog has entered a new level self-disclosure. I hope I haven't offended anyone).

Fons (Or "The Fons" as I like to call him. In my head. To myself) is a hardworking, man of few words. Although he doesn't know it, we have been involved in many hose-fastening races. I have been secretly keeping tally of who finishes their row in the greenhouse first, just for fun of course, and I keep thinking I have the edge, with my youth, motivation, and innate competitiveness. But this man has consistently taken me to the (organic) cleaners. I have a lot to learn about farming I guess.

My work has mainly consisted of mind numbing jobs which my brain can sleep through most of. After the hundredth potted plant, I think I've been having my moment of zen.

From 8 until 3, I am at their service, but after 3, I can do whatever I want. I have gone on a few bike rides, finally read 1984 (which was great), caught up on emails, sat by their fireplace, explored the 2-block town of Rangiora, visited their library, and caught up on my sleep.

I feel great. I've been eating such healthy food and getting so much blasted exercise, that I feel it will be an easy transition back into the fast paced life of Chicago upon my return.

Thanks for reading this entry and I will be seeing you all soon!

Best Wishes,

Casey


* Rather than plants growing the conventional way, where nutrients are pulled from the soil, Hydroponic farming has its seeds placed in woodchips, while nutrient rich solutions are pumped into the individual containers.

Queenstown

Hello Faithful Reader(s),

After my last post, Sammy, our hitchhiker Nick, and I decided to do a bit of mountain climbing. The nearest mountain was Mt. Roy, a 3-hour trip to the top. Our hike started with some chats and few chats, but after about 10 minutes, it became more huffs and puffs. We overtook a few Americans who were busy taking a picture of a blow-up doll riding a sheep (What excellent ambassadors!), jumped over streams, took photos, and got a great work out.

As we got closer to the summit we were granted more and more access to NZ's finest scenery. It was like being in 3rd grade, looking through our Houghton & Mifflin Geographical Sciences text book. All of the land formations were there; Rivers, lakes, mountains, plateaus, forests, prariers. All that was lacking were the corresponding labels.

When we made it to the top, the air was thinner, my legs were exhausted, due to the change in pressure I had an ear ache and my fingers were swollen, there was snow on the ground, and we were all starving. But man was it worth it. It took us 3 hours, but we climbed 8 kms (5 miles), roughly 1700 meters (I don't know the exact conversion, but it's a flippin' mountain!). Our pace on the way down was a quicker one, more thanks to the physics of it all rather than our enthusiasm.

We drove to Queenstown that night, found a really great hostel, and took it easy. The next day we went bungy jumping off the very first commerical bungy location in the world. Although the natives used to do it all the time with vines and out of trees (like real men), we had the luxury of latex cords which safely and effectively scared the bejesus out of me. It was a relatively efficient process, start to finish, but the free fall was fantastic. So unnatural to be plummeting head first off of a bridge, yet so exciting.

Sammy left for home today. He was really a great travel companion. I did another hike today with Nick the hitchhiker where we met some other travellers from the UK (they are everywhere!). The ones we met are coming over for dinner in about 10 minutes so we have to go prepare it.

I'm safe. I'm learning about the world. I can't believe I only have 2 weeks left! Thanks for reading.

Love,

Casey

The South Island

Hey. It's me again.

I'm writing from the South Island of New Zealand. I'll catch you up:

After my last post, I attempted to sky dive. I had the "thumbs up," the "okay," the "you'll be jumping 12,000 feet from a plane" reassurance from the desk receptionist at a local hostel. All things were looking good until the good weather decided to leave, taking with it my chances of sky diving. Needless to say I was crushed (yet at the same time a little relieved).

I caught a bus later that day down to Wellington. While on the bus I started chatting with a girl next to me who went to school at Victoria college, located in Wellington. She painted a very different picture of New Zealand than the one that the Dawsons had painted for me in Auckland.

She described a New Zealand more in line with what I was used to; more in line with reality. I was a bit disappointed, but it wasn't until we were at her apartment, listening to her friends recall the events from the past weekend that I had my big, all too perfect, coming of age moment. I'll describe it more in person if you'd like. (This online journal wasn't designed to be a philosophical dumping ground, and I hope to keep it that way).

After leaving an hour later, I met up with Sammy Joe, one of my closest friends from DePaul. Over the next two days we caught up, explored Wellington (the capital of NZ), planned our South Island road trip, and had some great laughs.

We next caught a ferry from the North to the South Island, got our rental car, and headed to a town called Blenheim where we did some (free!) wine tasting. By the third winery, I had picked up enough of the jargon, lingo, formalities, and wine tasting norms to not come off as a complete dolt.

Sammy, being the responsible one, refrained from sampling too many variations of NZ's finest wine, and won himself the position of chauffer for the first leg of our drive. The driving times we had originally planned on didn't have the "natural beauty" factor included. On more than 5 occasions we had to pull over and attempt to capture the landscape in our pathetic little view-finders. Our photos, although well-intentioned, will do those locations no justice. Ah well.

Our driving consisted of a lot of cautious U-turns around gloriously green mountains, whose occasional facades appeared to have the stubbly remains of the logging industry's last conquest. The rental car was a great idea. A lot more freedom to roam.

I eventually got a chance at the wheel and had little trouble adjusting to the opposite driving arrangements. My worst blunders consisted of switching on the windshield wipers when trying to indicate a turn, and hitting two hobbits. Luckily the little guys survived, but man were they upset! (They shouldn't have been standing there!)

We saw the pancake rocks, the blow holes, the Franz Josef glacier, some great hiking trails, hiked up the Fox Glacier, drove through the Gates of Haast, witnessed the breathtaking views of Mt. Aspring, Cook, and Tasman, picked up a hitch hiker, took a heap more photos, and have had a great time.

I'm doing well right now, besides the cold. Down here it is the type of cold that buddies up with the wet to get under all of your protective layers and hug your tender skin, making you want to move to a warm place and never look back.

We are in Wanaka for the night, a small ski town, and tomorrow we leave for Queenstown to try some bungy jumping. I start my farming in about a week, which I'm excited for, and then I come home around the 10th of August.

I hope you all miss me half as much as I miss you, so that when I come home for my birthday (you didn't forget did you?) we can celebrate our reunion.

Thanks for reading.

Casey

The Kindness of Strangers

Kia Ora!

I stink of sulfur. Let me tell you why:

After my last post, I spent the day wandering through a beautiful sunny Sydney. With friends I made (Moritz-German, Joe-Australian, Kate-American), we toured the Darling Harbour, stopped off for some lunch, and then headed down to Bondi Beach.

At Bondi Beach, Moritz and I rented surf boards and I gave it a shot (Check out the picture above!) . The waves, on numerous occasions, eveloped me in their powerful surges, rendering me and my board nothing but helpless play things in a world of salty abandon my lungs had trouble adjusting to. (I think that's a poetic attempt at saying "I wasn't very good at surfing.") But by the end of our brief attempts, I felt a little more comfortable, a little more confident in the tumbling sea and felt regret for not having done more of it when I was in the warmer, Northern Territory of Australia. Ah well. Such is life.

FUN FACT: Although I didn't have time to make it to a nearby Manly beach, I found out a funny little story about the origins of its name. When settlers first landed on its shore, they discovered tribes of Aboriginies making their home there. In describing their physical characteristics, the explorers commented that the natives looked very muscular and lean, or better yet, very "Manly." And the name stuck. (HA!)

I spent my last night at a bar with all of the new friends I had made and proceeded to take the right steps towards aquiring a pounding head ache the next morning. I caught my flight to Auckland, NZ with no trouble and was then picked up by a local Kiwi.

Word Origins: Prior to English discovery and subsequent colonization, New Zealand was known to the native inhabitants of the two islands as "Te Aoaoterteroa," which in the Maori's native tongue means "The Land of the Long White Cloud." The very first settlers from Southern Pacific Islands described their newly found land this way. When I came in on the plane, the place lived up to its name with beautiful cloud covered terrain.

I was taken in by two very well-to-do, patriotic, 5th Generation New Zealanders named Peter and Natalie Dawson. They were quick to welcome me into their home, give me an incredible history lesson over a very nice dinner, and help me realize that New Zealand is the type of culture and landscape I have been dreaming about for a long time.

There is much that I can elaborate about in person, but for now, all I can say is that I feel a very strong pull towards this country and all it stands for.

The next day, I met up with another traveller that I had met on the plane, and we hiked up a dormant volcano that had its last eruption 600 years ago. From the top (about an hour hike) we had a great view of Auckland (the largest city in New Zealand with a population of 1.25 million people).

We hiked down and followed the marked trails to some volcano shoots which made great caves to (slowly) step through. We were joined by a couple from the US, one of them, surprisingly, a school psychologist. She had a lot of good advice and once again changed my plans for the future. Why do I meet so many American school psychologists when I am hiking through national parks on the other side of the world? Very Strange.

After the hike, we went to the Auckland museum and reinforced much of the knowledge that I had been given from the Dawsons the night before. At the end of the day, I found a bus back to the host's home, and they surprised me by suggesting that will be taking a holiday to Rotorua and DRIVE me there, as well as the friend I met on the plane. I, very thankfully, accepted and the next day we drove down (With my German friend Nadine) to Rotorua.

When first entering the town, I did a quick rewind in my head to make sure I hadn't broken wind in the last minute or so, because there was definetely a distinct smell in the car. It turns, out it wasn't my flatulance (for once) but rather, the smell of sulfur from the natural hot springs that are Rotorua's largest tourist attraction.

We visited a Hot Springs park called Hell's Gate, and the smell was much stronger. It was like in middle school, when the drinking fountain would spray out the dreaded EGG WATER, but instead of having the control, like I did then, to turn my head and stop drinking, this was a constant smell that would get into your mouth and nostrils and on your skin. Like all of the other natural phenomena, the Maori's considered the boiling points very sacred and would involve them in their traditional ceremonies.

Next we went to the Green and Blue lakes where I discovered the DEFINITION OF IRONY:
There was a big sign which read "Be sure to lock your cars and take your valuables with you" and in front of this was an SUV with its driver side window broken and door wide open, valuables having been seized. Can't be too careful I suppose.

The Green and Blue lakes were named this because of, well, their color. Because of varying mineral deposits and water depths, the two lakes were in stark contrast to one another in their visual appearance.

(This is getting really long! Sorry!)

That night we went to a traditional Maori dinner and performance. I was called on stage and made a fool of myself while beating my chest and sticking out my tongue like a Maori warrior (rather than just over silly concerns that I'm used to over reacting about!). I'll show you the pictures.

This morning we spent our time in a hot springs spa and, depending on the different locations, the springs would be different temperatures. The lower on the landscape they were, the closer they were to more active geothermal hot spots and the pool was much hotter.

I caught a bus to Taupo, where I am right now, and hope to try sky diving tomorrow (if the weather's all right). Wish me luck!

All right, this is really long. Thanks for reading, if you got this far, and continue posting (non-pregnancy related) comments. I really enjoy reading them!

Best Wishes,

Casey

From Noosa to Sydney

Hey Guys.

Greetings from Sydney. I'll give you a little recap of what I've been doing:

After I left Hervey Bay, I continued heading South to a little beach town called Noosa. It was definetley the most "Posh" place I have been so far. The arms of the White-Haired and wealthy were all decorated with the well tanned, slender arms of the young and beautiful. I didn't spend too much time in the main strip, but I did manage to do another (daytime) Bushwalk through a really nice national park. The coastline walk allowed a lot of great photo opportunities and a chance to meet a (very depressing) school psychologist, and once again throw my life plans for a loop. Ah well.

After Noosa, I took a bus down to Brisbane, which is, I think, the largest city in Queensland. It was a nice place to explore with a few museums, a (pretty pathetic) man made beach, a boat transit service, and lots of shops and restaurants. I happened to be there during one of the biggest Rugby matches of the year (Queensland vs. New South Wales) so it gave me the chance to get caught up in all of the excitement (NSW won).

After a few days there, I headed down to Byron Bay, which could boast some of the most beautiful beaches I'd seen thus far. The town was a good mix of the commercial and the natural. It had a quaint, surfer's atmosphere in the "down town," but also a lot of chances to explore the surrounding forests and view some beautiful sun sets.

After 2 days there I braved a (surprisingly comfortable) 15 hour bus ride down to Sydney. I immediately met up with an Australia friend I met in Cairns (Joe, the "Washed-Up Child Actor") and we did a little walking around a cold and rainy Sydney. The next day I caught up with some friends from DePaul that are studying here and managed to secure a nice place to stay for my last couple of days in Sydney.

So that brings me to now. I apologize if this entry is a little bit devoid of excitement and adventure, but it has been a pretty relaxed atmosphere for the past week or so. I hope to intensify my trip a little when I head to NZ and do all of the adventure sports I can handle (afford). I will be meeting up with a good friend from DePaul, Sammy Joe, and we plan on doing a little tour of the South Island, where it is supposed to be some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world (A lot of the Lord of the Rings were filmed in these areas, so it should be a treat).

Today, as my last day in Sydney, I plan on doing some final explorations with some people I have met here before getting ready to catch my flight to NZ tomorrow.

All right. I'm safe. I'm enjoying myself. And I miss all of you. Leave me a message and tell me how you're doing.

Best Wishes,

Casey

Fraser Island

Greetings my Fellow Americans,

Independence Day. Two years in a row I have been out of the States for the celebration. I'm beginning to forget what we're even celebrating. Something about Indians and over priced tea? It'll come back to me eventually.

Well hey! I'm safe. I'll tell you how I got here:

After my last post, I headed south to a rainy and stormy Hervey Bay, which is one of the many gateway citys which allows access to the great Fraser Island. This trip, I was told, was pretty weather dependent. Being an all outdoor adventure, rain can easily ruin things. The weather wasn't looking too promising, but I actually lucked out with three of the sunniest, most pleasing days I have had this whole summer (winter).

Fraser Island, one of Australia's biggest tourist attractions, has much to brag about. It is the largest sand island in the world, has more sand on its terrain than the Sahara desert, can boast the purest breed of Dingos in the world (dog-like creature--They come into the story later), and the island is most commonly explored using 4-Wheel Drive vehicles.

I signed up for a self-guided 4WD tour that would allow me and Seven other travellers to create our own itinerary and explore whichever part of the island we most fancied. The first group I was put in consisted of a Welshman (He comes into the story later as well), another guy, and about 7 females. However, there was some sort of drama with the Welshman so he I was put in with another group, which was fine by me.

We began our day with a very quick briefing of what to do if attacked by dingoes ("Defend yourself aggressively!" said the video.) among other things (flat tires, stuck in the mud, broken back). We were given all of our equipment for the three days, shopping list suggestions, maps, and possible itineraries for the island as parting gifts.

We were then let loose and sped out of the car park ahead of the other groups to begin our adventure. We did a very fast paced shopping trip before a ferry took us all to the island and dropped us off onto the last paved road I would see for 3 days. We put our vehicles into 4WD and entered the jungle.

At first everyone was a little apprehensive about hills, quick turns, and big puddles, but after 20 minutes we were shouting and encouraging our driver to go faster through them.
And after 30 minutes, we were bored with them (one passenger actually began falling asleep!).

Our first planned stop was the famous Lake McKenzie. It is the largest fresh water lake on the island and after jumping into the water, it felt as if I was swimming in Evian water. So clear and fresh, and tasted as good as, if not better, most bottled waters.

Fun Fact: The sand on the Lake McKenzie beach is so fine, that if were to dip jewelry in it, it would clean and polish it! Also, if you were to wash it into your hair, it works as a conditioner (I actually tried it, and it worked!)

We left the lake to find our first camp site: The Beach. Have you ever seen that commercial where there is the vacationer who sets up his beach chair, on the empty tropical beach, by himself, and then some other sun bather sets up their chair RIGHT next to him, thereby spoiling his privacy and tranquil surroundings? Well, that's what we did to this other group. HA! While we were seting up our tents, rain tarps (just in case), and preparing dinner, we got such a stink eye from this other group, I had to put on some extra sun tan lotion to prevent myself from getting a burn. It was hilarious.

While setting everything up, it became even more apparent that I was the only non-bi-lingual one in the group. There were 2 Norweigians, 1 German, and 4 from Denmark. After I finish this postI'm going to have to look up the Danish translation for "American Loser" to make sure that that wasn't the phrase that I kept hearing when I was around!

Side Note: While setting up the tents, I realized how much I enjoyed the whole camping process. I think I remember doing it as a kid in our backyard and it made me really excited. If anyone wants to go camping with me when I get back, let me know.

The dinner was cleaned up and we experienced a sky show that even a Pink Floyd Light Coordinator, trapped inside of a Kaleidescope, on acid, couldn't dream up. The stars were so bright, the Mily Way so expansive, the shooting stars so numerous, with the large, shark infested ways crashing nearby so loud; it was unbelievable.

There were so many shooting stars, in fact, by the end I had to start making wishes for things I didn't really want that much. I was really spoiled.

After viewing the southern cross, which is on the Australian Flag (and looks more like a kite than a cross if you ask me) some people in my group and I decided to walk down the beach to see if we could find the other people who were part of our caravan.

We found that they had all set up a little camping ground of their own, and had thrown quite a lively party. We joined them for a while, met some more foreigners (I didn't meet any other Americans), and actually met an Irish girl who is running the Chicago Marathon in October. If anyone wants to come with me to cheer her on and show her the city, let me know. We could do it after we go camping.

Throughout the night we spotted a few dingoes, but nothing to be too worried about.

The next day we woke up early to the sunrise and packed all of our equipment up and got on the "road" (the beach). We drove up North, and while passing the groups from the night before, we were told a little story from the night before about that Welshman I mentioned earlier.

It turns out that he drank 3 liters of wine on his own, began flipping out because he thought someone had stole one of his bottles, pushed some girl over, and then bit another one on the arm! HA! I was supposed to be in his group! My guardian angel, or someone, is looking out for me, because that's the second attack I have somehow managed to avoid on this trip.

Can you imagine how awkward the rest of that trip must have been in that vehicle. "So, I'm sorry I bit you last night." ?!?! But I digress...

We made a few more stops again that day, played frisbee and soccer, and set up camp on the beach again. This night, however, we were sitting and looking at the stars when I looked up to see 2 dingoes about 3 feet from me sniffing around. As instructed by the instructional video, I shouted dingo and pointed at them, and they took off. I felt so cool.

The next day we went to a place called Lake Wabby, which was incredible. I will have to show you the pictures (this post is getting really long).

Okay, enough is enough. I've written too much. I have many more little observations and funny happenings, but I'll have to tell you in person.

It all ended up being a great time. I met some really great people, made lots of contacts, and secured many free places to stay if I travel in Europe again! Ha!

Keep sending the emails, and leaving comments, and enjoying the heat wave (suckers!). I will talk to you all soon.

Your Travelling Man,

Casey