Chapter Eleven

"Churches of Dunedin [də-ˈnē-dən ], cute Rosie, cheap wool and Willy Wonka"

Yap. I'm writing here while waiting for final cut to render a tiny piece of my music video. Puh. I was really not in the mood for it yesterday. It's not like Bob Dylan or Mick Jagger, I'm always in the mood for Bob or Mick. Editing means you have to see things, and use them. The right cut, the right in and out point. Somedays, it just doesn't work. Today it's much better. So I thought I'd exploit the inspiration and write a few words about the Dunedin part of our South Island trip as well.


Whaam! Morning. bibibibibiiiip, no wait. It's too early. Anyways, have a shower (mmmh), get up!

We slept in a big hostel over a poolbar last night. Which is cool. The images that flow down from the memories of yesterday evening are about an irish pub with amazing food and streets at night. And poolplaying, and Monteith's, which is good. So, the day starts again. With the irish pub, again. We have a great breakfast, than start wandering through the streets of Dunedin.



There's a cool curch and a strange man standind on the other side of the street. He stands there for a long time and keeps on smoking. I can't help taking a picture of him, and feel of course very M16agent in that very moment. There are painted kids on the walls of Dunedin, and the sun in shining. We're like the only living boy in New York. We get all the news we need on the weather report, and we've really got nothing else to do today than smile.



Jesper stands here in front of the railway station in Dunedin, one of the most photographed buildings in New Zealand. The railway station is just behind my camera. So you don't see it here. What you see here is just as interesting as the very much photographed railway station of Dunedin. And of course, this is only my opinion. I might be right or wrong. Etc.




Dunedin is tagged, and beautiful. The walls breathe, with color. We go to a shop that very much corresponds to the norwegian Fretex and buy wool shirts for five bugs. We try on strange clothes, and pass by strange buildings. I like Dunedin. I really do.




Rosie is cute, and we walk to Cadbury. Which is a chocolate factory. No Willy Wonka though, our guide gives me the impression of being dragged around by someone that just had a chocolate indigestion or someone who had lemons in vinegar for breakfast. We see a quite powerful chocolatefall, and finally get fooled into buying some delicious chocolate. That's the good part. And Hansi keeps on smiling, 25 hours a day, which is also good.



The last drops of light slide down towards the bottom of the day. So what we do is we leave the city center, and drive to...No, don't ask me the name, 'cause I really do not remember it. Somethingsomethingstreet. Which is the world's steepest street. Worse than San Francisco, aha. And we drive up, and down. And the Chariot never lets us down.


Music in the car, the cold asphalt gets a good massage while we drive northwards. Or next stop is by the lakes. We'll sleep somewhere in the middle of nowhere tonight. By a lake, in the moonlight.
It's amazing how somethings just go how you expected sometimes. Just 'cause it doesn't happen that often. But it happens tonight. I just have to place the Olympus over the car and click a few times. We fall asleep on a dark earth caressed by moonlight, and have no freaking idea of the freaking colors we'll wake up to tomorrow morning.