It's August 2004 and I got snowed in! Now how did that happen? Well, I guess being on the other side of the world from Florida may have something to do with it- one of those equator things, y'know.

Having had a successful 3-week tour in 2002, I was excited about my return trip to the beautiful North and South Islands of New Zealand. I knew that not only would I be seeing many old friends, but would be embarking on several unsuspecting new adventures. In 2002, I recall my first brain twitch occurred as I read the sign on the inside of my hotel room door which simply read, "In case of earthquake take cover and be a survivor."

This time, my first synapse collapse occurred on the trip from Los Angeles to Auckland. Once we were airborne, I was greeted by the voice of the Qantas Airlines co-pilot coming through the intercom to say, "Good evening ladies... and gentleman... We'll be, uh... flying over, uh... the... Pacific Ocean so, umm... I guess... well... uh... there's really not much to say." Then the intercom went dead for the next 12 hours. Somehow I knew at this point, much like last time, that this would not be a normal trip.

One of the highlights of this flight was the internal fuselage "Music Trivia Quiz" competition with anyone willing to participate using the plane's internal gaming system. Time and time again I finished in last place because EVERY selection was related to the current Pop, Country, Rock, Rap and Hip-Hop craze. I cannot recall ever being so proud that I could not recognize ANY current tune! I know MY stuff, however, and I felt I had arrived. I immediately brought my current affairs up to date when I learned that if you DON'T declare your leftover dinner candy bar upon arrival, there is a chance you could be fined up to $20,000. Now that's some useful trivia!

Traveling with two tennis balls in a sock, since they're great for self-back massage on a long flight, I was greeted by New Zealand Customs and Immigration with some curiosity, perplexity, and near hostility. Actually, I must admit the hostility was beginning to show up from my side. As they examined my, uh, "sock contents", they began banging them repeatedly on a metal table, apparently testing the potential deadliness of my, umm, "sock contents". This was AFTER the flight! Delirious with fatigue from my long flight, I finally hollered at them to stop banging my..."sock contents". With nothing short of a miracle, I got into the country.

On a side note: Another miracle of arrival and acceptance occurred at a Canadian airport when I was asked to play one of my guitars for Customs and Immigration. Unfortunately I pulled out the 12-string, which was pitched down and with the strings slack. It took me nearly ten minutes to tune up. By then, the airport was empty of customers due to the lateness of my night flight. Every official appeared to have gathered there to scrutinize me, while my promoter waited outside the airport, probably thinking I was not going to make it. Finally one of the officials became impatient with watching me tune, and suddenly blurted out, "I can do that!" so I began playing and he immediately said, "Oh, ok...I can see you're not an imposter". Well, that wasn't good enough for me. I made them all wait until I finished the medley.

The month-long journey of both New Zealand's North and South Islands came complete with a brief trip to the set of Peter Jackson's movie, King Kong. My nearly successful efforts at riding the purportedly deadly Penny Farthing bicycle (http://www.inet-shibata.or.jp/~HSbicycles/HISTORY1.htm) from the 1800's almost changed my demeanor. Some hotels proudly advertised that their televisions were rigged for Channels One, Two AND Three and after seeing "Sponge Bob" on Channel Two, I gave up television for the rest of the trip. I also saw a sign on a storefront claiming that Kiwis (New Zealanders) suffer more from depression than anyone else in the world. Eating more fish was the suggested cure. Did I mention that a grumpy guy that sold only fish ran the store? Nothing like a face-to-face encounter with the inventor of ingenuity!

This trip presented the opportunity to make my first attempt at busking. Being a novice at this time-honored tradition, I was pretty pathetic with my guitar case blowing over on four separate times as my own donation of $2.00 blew down a nearby grate. My hat flew off twice, way too many people walked by wearing headsets, and I was virtually invisible for twenty minutes before receiving my only real tip- a "Fight Racism" poster. An hour and twenty minutes later, I appeared on National Radio in Wellington http://www.radionz.co.nz/, fairing much better in the calm of the studio.

I have to say that I did not encounter another grumpy soul in New Zealand; the hospitality was amazing, the scenery often nearly incomprehensibly stunning, and the repeated thoughts of, "Hey, maybe I should move here," could not be ignored. Every performance night was a huge success, whether it was in a makeshift back-ally club that is home to the infamous Blue Penguins, a hundred-year-old vaudeville theatre, or a modern state of the arts entertainment complex.

One of the highlights had to be an impromptu performance for a grade school in Coromandel on the tip of the North Island. Many of the indigenous Maori children were in attendance and their own performance, which was comprised of a beautiful and stunning greeting/war chant and dance, reciprocated my performance in a way I will always remember. They blew me away!

Many, many thanks to all of my old and new friends, the Customs and Immigration folks who were just doing their jobs, and mostly to Gill Winter of Flying Piglet Productions for yet another spectacular musical opportunity. For more information and photos of this New Zealand tour, visit the Tours section of the site.

Safe travels to you all,
Richard