Back in Black
So, I know this post is a bit behind and you all already know this but...THE ALL BLACKS WON THE WORLD CUP!!!! Whoopty Whoop! I thought Auckland during the semi-finals was crazy. The finals were certifiably insane in comparison. We watched the game at a pub as the cheapest nose bleed tickets were a cool $750. We and a bar full of Kiwis nervously watched the narrow 8-7 win over France. I befriended the rugby savvy midget sitting next to me as we both twitched and danced with anxiety the whole second half (Side note: I do realize the correct terminology is little person, but it lacks a certain luster for story telling purposes so you'll have to forgive my insensitivity in this case). The relief of the final whistle gave way to mass mayhem as the All Black haven't won the title since the inaugural World Cup in 1987. The home win was just the extra poop on top of this shit storm.
As we fled to the streets to celebrate, a group of body paint clad men were drunkenly passing a rugby ball across the streets of Auckland. Kelly, being the generous person she is, went to retrieve their ball when it was dropped. The Kiwis, expecting a Bret Farve over hand football throw from the American girl, were shocked when Kelly and I took off running through the crowds, eluding them with our rugby passes and gazelle like speed (I always feel lighting fast when running drunk). We led chase for what seemed like kilometers and were only thwarted when my jacket that was tied around my waist was liberated and lost in the sea of people. When you are living out of a backpack for a year you definitely go back for your only jacket, even if it means sacrificing your pride over a impromptu game of drunk street rugby. The whole experience exceeded any expectations I could have ever dreamed of, but my liver and I are so glad that the World Cup over now.
We've been fortunate enough to stay with friends and family of friends for the majority of our trip, but our last night in Auckland we stayed with our first Couch Surfing host. Couch Surfing is a kind of social networking site where strangers offer up their couch for free to poor vagabonds such as ourselves. It's a little more official than that, but you get the gist. We arrived to their house to find our host making a chain maille coat for their Live Action Role Playing (commonly known as LARPing) event the next day. I don't think I have the space or energy to correctly explain LARPing to those of you who are unfamiliar, but I highly recommend you YouTube it and then continue to read. Now, this LARPing encounter may not sound very interesting to all of you, but I know for a fact that some of my friends are peeing their pants with excitement right now. Frankly, I thought these kinds of things were special the eccentricities of the United States. I assumed incorrectly. I also incorrectly underestimated Kelly's ability to speak the LARPing language. Apparently, as a lover and frequenter of Renaissance Fairs, she is fluent in the land of medieval dress up and battle axes. The very generous and kind LARPers were more than happy to educate us on the finer points of sword play. This is exactly what I set out to do, meet people and see things I would have otherwise never experienced. Well, I might eventually have met LARPers back home, but not a LARPer with a Kiwi accent...
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