New Zealand: Day 18
January 20, 2013
The day was partly cloudy, mostly sunny, somewhat windy, at least at ground level, with another day of daytime temperatures no more than the mid-70s, and evening temperatures dropping into the mid-60s.
I hate to say that the day was a disappointment because so many good things happened today, but I did encounter numerous frustrations throughout the day. Let's say the theme for the day is dashed expectations.
I am not a morning person, but my day got off to a very early start. The alarm went off at 6am and I quickly hopped out of bed. Some of you who know me well may be amazed, even doubtful, but I assure you it's true. I had breakfast, and was down at the offices of Nzone Skydive at 7:15am. Unfortunately my enthusiasm was all for naught. The skydives for 7:30 and 8:30 had been cancelled because it was too windy at the dive sites. The staff person offered to reschedule my dive for 10:30, but I said that time wouldn't work because I had another event scheduled for 12:10, and the 10:30 dive participants would not return to Queenstown until 1:30. We settled on rescheduling the dive for 3:30.
The skydive was to be a tandem dive -- that is, I would be strapped to an experienced skydiver -- and we would jump at an altitude of 15,000 feet. We would be in free fall for 65 seconds, which meant we would reach terminal velocity, the maximum rate of speed one can go, of 120 miles per hour which occurs in ten seconds. I had been looking forward to this one activity with great anticipation for months; it would not be too far from the truth to say it was the one thing to which I was most looking forward during my trip to New Zealand. I've been skydiving three times previously, but they all had been "static line" jumps, which means that the parachute was pulled by a long rope as soon as I exited the plane, and I was in free fall no more than three seconds.
I had some time on my hands. I also was not feeling great; my sinuses were extremely congested, my cough had been getting progressively worse, and I had a headache. I was able to look past all of these factors in the face of the eagerly anticipated skydive, but now that it had been rescheduled for the afternoon, the symptoms came to the foreground. I was tired of feeling poorly. The over-the-counter medications were not helping, so I decided to take advantage of the sudden free time to go see a doctor. At the very least I hoped he would give me a prescription for pseudoephedrine. I believe everything happens for a reason, and I decided the rescheduled skydive was a signal to see a doctor, something I had not previously had time to fit into my crammed schedule.
I spoke with the staff at the hotel's front desk, and learned that the Queenstown Medical Centre's drop-in clinic opened at 9am. The clinic was only five minutes away, so I asked them to arrange for a cab to pick me up at 8:45. Someone on the clinic's staff already was there when I arrived, so after I assured her I was able to pay the NZ$205 "after hours" fee (it was Sunday morning), we began the process of filling out paperwork and conducting an intake in order to be ready for the doctor when he arrived at 9:00.
I quite liked the doctor; he was friendly and compassionate yet professional and thorough. He took the time to talk with me, and gather information about my symptoms and their development. He said, to be on the safe side, he was going to give me a diagnosis of sinusitis and treat me accordingly. I also requested something for my headache, which he agreed to do. He had to spend some time researching on the Internet to translate US medications to their New Zealand equivalents, e.g., Tylenol #3 is Panadeine Extra in New Zealand. In addition, he prescribed an antibiotic, pseudoephedrine, Flonase, and an inhalant to help treat the wheezing in my lungs. A pharmacy was conveniently located upstairs, and the medications cost an additional NZ$213.10. I wanted to send the bills for the doctor's consultation and the medications to the inconsiderate idiot who infected the entire bus load of travelers, but my travel insurance should cover these costs. As I write up this report some 14 hours later, I have to say I'm very glad I decided to go to the doctor because I am feeling considerably better.
The 12:10 event to which I referred earlier was a bungy jump off the Kawarau River bridge, the place where bungy jumping began in 1988. The site has been designated a historic landmark. The company running the bungy jump had my booking, but they had not received a payment voucher from my travel planner. I sent her a frantic text message asking her if she could take care of it, like, right now. The voucher had not arrived by 12:30, but the agreeable staff did all of the processing necessary for the jump, with the jump pending receipt of the voucher by the time I reached the bungy site at about 1:00. My travel planner came through in time, and I was able to proceed with the jump.
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Unfortunately, however, I was not able to do the jump the way I wanted. The Kawarau bungy jump is a mere 43 meters, and, as you may recall, I had done a 134 meter jump -- more than three times higher -- just yesterday. It was not the historicity of the Kawarau bungy jump that appealed to me so much as the options available: (1) garden variety bungy jump; (2) bungy jump to the point you could go down and touch the Kawarau River below; and (3) bungy jump leading to full immersion in the river. Can you guess which option I wanted?
Alas, options 2 and 3 were not available today because it had rained almost every day in the Queenstown area the preceding week, and the river water levels were unusually high and contained dangerous debris. I could not be a Dunkin' Do-Nick after all! I would have to be satisfied with enjoying another dive, and appreciate that I had done it in the location where this extreme sport had begun. So I did just that. I did not whine. I did not curse the gods for disfavoring me. I accepted what was presented to me with a joyful and grateful spirit, and I had a great time. I also have more photos and more video; I am single-handedly supporting the New Zealand tourist economy!
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Additional (and better) photos, along with video, located here!
We returned to the Queenstown city center at 3pm, just in time to check in for my skydive, but it was not to be. Due to continued high winds, all dives for the day had been cancelled. They offered to reschedule the jump for tomorrow, but (a) I had no confidence the jump would actually happen, and (b) I was leaving Queenstown at 8:30am. Now I was well and truly disappointed. I was not going to be able to do the one thing I most wanted to do during my five weeks in New Zealand. But what could I do? Was I going to let this one disappointment ruin my entire vacation, or was I going to accept the circumstances for what they were and move on, appreciating all the good that had happened already and looking forward to the good that was sure to come in the remaining days of my vacation? I chose the latter.
Yet another disappointment was waiting around the corner, or, rather, next door, actually. The whitewater rafting company had assured me that my photos and video would be ready after 1pm today. When I checked in with them after 3pm the files were not yet ready. Oh, my! Too many things were going wrong today. My eyes narrowed. I wanted to growl at the staff person, for he was the same one who had made the promise yesterday that the files would be ready by this time. Be nice, be nice, I said to myself, so all I did was raise one eyebrow. Those who know me well know this alone is a warning signal. The staff person was immediately apologetic. He assured me they would be ready by 5pm. I told him they would have to be because I was scheduled for a dinner cruise at 5:45, and I would not be returning before they closed that night. He again assured me the files would be ready by 5pm.
I then walked down to the wharf on Lake Wakatipu to purchase my ticket for the dinner cruise, and this time I was more successful than I had been yesterday. In addition to being a place with numerous businesses catering to those with an interest in adventurous activities, Queenstown also has many, many restaurants, bars and clubs, all with throngs of ... children ... at all hours of the day and night. None of these facilities interested me whatsoever, so I went back to my hotel to relax for a couple of hours before it was time for the dinner cruise. After all, I was still recovering from a minor illness, and having a little down time seemed like an attractive idea.
Boarding for the dinner cruise was at a quarter to six; I went to the whitewater rafting office at 5:40 to pick up my USB flash drive that I had been assured would be ready by 5pm. You guessed it: the drive still was not ready. This time I raised both eyebrows. Those who know me know this means "red alert, red alert!" Apparently the staff person realized the same thing very quickly. He asked me to wait a moment, and dashed to a room in the rear of the office. He returned and said it would be ready in 15-20 minutes. I told him that was not good enough because, as I had told him earlier, I was boarding a boat for a dinner cruise in five minutes, I would not return until after they had closed for the evening, and I was leaving Queenstown in the morning. The poor staff person looked like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights. I told him there was only one way to rescue the sale: make sure the work was completed that evening and ready for pick-up tomorrow morning no later than 7:45. He assured me he would make sure the USB flash drive was ready in time, and I left the office.
I made it to the wharf at the designated time; it was just a few blocks from the whitewater rafting office. At 6:00 the TSS Earnslaw left the dock to head across Lake Wakatipu towards Walter Peak where we would be having dinner. We had misunderstood rather thoroughly what we were purchasing; the bus driver's description was unclear. We thought we were going to eat from a buffet on the boat followed by some sort of entertainment as the boat steamed around the lake. In actuality, the steamship carried us across the lake to an old farmhouse that had been converted to a banquet facility, and the "show" was a tour of the farming operations and another demonstration of sheep shearing. Also, our driver had said the buffet we would be having tonight was much, much larger than the one we had at the top of Ben Lomond peak two nights ago, when in fact the Ben Lomond buffet was the one that was much, much larger. It was another demonstration of the day's dashed expectations theme.
The boat, the TSS Earnslaw, is an honest-to-goodness steamship built in 1912, complete with puffing (polluting) smokestack and steam-driven engine. It is the oldest operating steamship in the southern hemisphere. We took a leisurely hour-long ride across the lake, and then enjoyed a very nice dinner in a very elegant setting. We had no cause for complaint about our dinner; it just wasn't what we expected. When we discovered the nature of the "show" we decided we would rather extend enjoyment of our dinner and then walk around the grounds of the old farmhouse and sit by the waterside until the Earnslaw returned.
Expectations are tricky things. On one hand, they can, and often do, lead to disappointment when expectations do not match up with reality. On the other hand, expectations can be, and are, useful as measuring tools. The danger lies, in Acceptance and Commitment Therapy terms, in fusion with expectations, a demand that expectations and reality conform with each other, that because we expect things to turn out in a certain way then they must turn out in that way. As today has demonstrated, life doesn't always work like this. We need to have psychological flexibility to handle the curve balls life often throws at us. Yes, I really, really wanted to do the skydive today. I have spent months looking forward to this event on this day. However, when reality did not match my expectations, I had a choice about my response. I could have become angry. I could have pitched a fit. I could have become depressed, considered my vacation ruined. None of these responses would have changed the reality of the situation, however. Matters beyond my control had made the realization of my expectations impossible. What was in my control was my response to the situation, and I chose to accept it with equanimity. There is no reason the skydive had to take place in New Zealand; I'm sure I can find similar opportunities back in the US of A, and probably for less money, too. I wrote earlier that I believe everything happens for a reason. Perhaps the reason the skydive did not take place today was to drive home the lesson of the importance of psychological flexibility, to emphasize the control we have over our own responses to life's events, and to illustrate that even when confronted with dashed expectations, we can choose a positive response over a negative one.
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it still was a beautiful day |
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Last revised: August 26, 2015.
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