Nelson. Day 2.

It’s our last day in Nelson and I’ve made a serendipitous discovery that I will share with you…. How to get an inverse Chaco tan in 5 easy steps:

1) Put on Chacos

2) Spray sunscreen on your feet

3) Scrap a few IQ points

4) Take off Chacos

5) Frolic in the sun for a few hours (preferably in an ozone-deficient place like New Zealand)

Congrats! Show off your new hipster tan lines to all the friends you probably no longer have because you’re spending time doing things like getting an inverse Chaco tan. I’d post a picture of mine, but I’m still in the burn stage. On the bright side, I don’t have to worry much about having shoes rubbing the tops of my feet because I don’t even need to wear shoes! I spent a good portion of the day wandering downtown Nelson, and I would oft look down and spot bare feet on the sidewalks. The “no shirt, no shoes, no service” rule does not apply to New Zealand. My family walked back barefoot from a boatshed diner (getting caught in a flash rainstorm in the process) that was a 15 minute walk from our hotel. On the way, I saw a store that looked intriguing.

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While exploring downtown, I also began to develop a theory, or at least a theory about a theory. There’s a distinct possibility that people here are more attractive. Maybe because most of them dress nicely/stylishly, maybe because of the accents, maybe because of their open and friendly natures, or maybe because they pose even while waiting for coffee.

just doing some street modeling

just doing some street modeling

Yeah. I took a creeper photo of this dude. But then Karma (what a beotch) slapped me back. Remember how my mum is trying to push me to get a boyfriend and get married? Well, a car of boys drove past me on the street and one yelled, “MARRY ME!” Wow, I thought, My first marriage proposal. It’s all happening so fast. Sadly, they drove away too quickly for me to formulate, let alone give, an answer. I think I probably would have said No. Then again, I’m proud of New Zealand for producing classy harassment. Honestly, “marry me” is not the usual kind of proposition a girl receives from a moving man vehicle. It seems as if, even when Kiwis are being boorish or vulgar, they’re doing it with polite flair. Next time I’m walking the streets, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear “Get in the back of the van…. so that I can treat to dinner at a swanky restaurant.”

I forgot to brag about how I was able to see Les Miserables before Christmas because my awesome Aunt is on SAG’s (Screen Actors Guild) nominating committee and has a copy of the film. That was me bragging.

Right before leaving Nelson, we girls visited the World of Wearable Art Museum. I wasn’t too excited about going, but the museum was actually quite amazing and I was pleasantly surprised. The most elaborate outfits were on display – think clothes that hipsters in the Hunger Games’ Capitol would wear, or picture costumes from Wicked. This place is heaven for the costume designer or anyone interested in fashion. Old cars were also displayed, but I don’t really care about cars (I don’t quite get them. I’m like, “Oh. cool. It has wheels…. Yessir, those engines all look very different. Said the liar.”)

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You've got a mighty hard pec there

You’ve got a mighty hard pec there

WOW!

PRETTY!

Wheels. (Also makes me think I can go back to the future)

Leaving Nelson and What Happened Therein

Upon leaving the Trailways hotel, I learned that it was a site where crew stayed during the filming of The Hobbit. I might have slept in the same bed as some person who may or may not have done something for some part of the film. It’s all very thrilling.

On the bus:

1) Mother asks our elderly driver, “Does your son have any sons of marriageable age?” Yet again I thank the Lord that I don’t live in a culture where arranged marriages are the norms, because if I did I would be so engaged right now.

2) Mother has the driver take the bus around the block and then stop so she can get out, run across the street, and take a picture of a McDonald’s sign that reads, “Lamb is here.” Apparently we need more difficultly-accessed photographic evidence of cultural differences- namely the fact that Kiwis like lamb.

3) I fantasize about my two roommates being a chef and a masoos. They both come back to the flat and say, “Lindsey, we really need to hone our skills. Can you please give us a hand and let us practice with you?” I’m all, “Well, I guess. Gotta earn my Good Samaritan points.” I get some free meals (I have a fear of stoves and therefore will be unable to feed myself anything other than cereal) and massages (who doesn’t love a massage?).

On the flight:

1) We have flown SO MUCH recently. I contemplate getting up and giving the safety briefing.

2) Karli and I play I-Spy. It goes like this:

Me- “I spy with my little eye something – ”

Me and Karli together- “blue.”

Karli- “ocean.”

Karli- “I spy something….”

Me- “white? clouds.”

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