Sulfur & The Sky Tower

I still smell like rotten egg diesel fuel. I am continually aware of my own odor … never good. In elevators and tight spaces, I am even more aware of it. Three showers later, the smell remains. I may have to burn my clothes and purchase an entirely new wardrobe. Donations welcome, but, really, it’s for your sake as much as mine.

In the middle of the night last night, a wave of sulfur must have been ingested by the hotels HVAC system. At 3 A.M. RBD and I considered vomiting because that would smell better. Instead we just lay awake, staring into the sulfur filled void of our dark room.

I met Nik for breakfast, a Lighting Designer who works full time in Auckland. He’s married, his wife a psychiatrist, and they have a five year old son. All are vacationing in Rotorua.

I wanted to talk shop with him, see what his perspective was. My vision of the wider industry is poor. New York can be so very insular in an already insular industry. While I’ll spare you the details of how 220v power changes your workflow, the gist was what I feared: basically, it’s all the same. He just makes less money dealing with the same nonsense I do. Like, a lot less.

Traveling internationally you begin to notice patterns in all the human stuff. Queenstown looks a lot like Blowing Rock. As I mentioned, Taupo looks a lot like your favorite East Coast beach town. You can match store for store across vast distances. Fergburger is like Shake Shack, or Char-Grill, or Jackson Hole. Kathmandu like REI. People are people. Cities are cities.

I think what makes international travel fun are the stupendously minor differences you stumble across. Like, every time I get to choose how much water to flush the toilet with, I chuckle with absolute power. Or driving on the left, or how all the plugs have tiny on/off switches. Just small details.

To hear Nik talk about all the same difficulties New York industry folks face should not have been surprising. Yet I find it distressing nonetheless. Maybe I expected a more enlightened scene — a smaller environment with greater opportunity since “supply” wouldn’t be great. Alas, “demand” here is tiny. It’s all a bit like finding out your mistress has feet of clay.

Our drive to Auckland took us through farming country and moody weather. I grabbed some pics from the car, which don’t usually work out, just because the sky looked so dynamic. We even saw a train.

Plenty of life here in Auckland. We’re staying right in the central city. Already I’ve seen people of all shapes and backgrounds and religions. Reminds me a lot like home. We visited the Sky Tower, which you have seen on literally every scene depicted of Auckland, and then a Mexican restaurant nearby. I love lamb and wine, don’t get me wrong, but I also love tacos and tequila. I’ve just got so much love for food, I can’t be stingy.

On our way into town, a road sign said, “Enter wide, exit tight.” I can think of no better way to describe my pant’s fit during our time here. The exit will be very tight indeed. With a light, sulfuric scent to boot.

The woman in the picture below paid good money to jump off the Sky Tower. What you’re seeing is her in mid-panic attack. She totally freaked out, and couldn’t do it. Sadly, I could not take her place.