Flying New Zealand

It only took two days of traveling around New Zealand before I was asking myself, "Why do people travel anywhere else?"

For the past two weeks, Dana and I have been driving all over New Zealand. On the surface, driving NZ isn't that different from cruising a less populated version of northern California or Oregon. The scenery is incredible, the people unfailingly friendly and, in the off season at least, you feel like you have the entire country to yourself. Then you pull your little Ford into some nice B&B, settle into your room, and go chat with the host. That's when things get weird.

Your host, more often than not a grandmotherly-type with plenty of manuka honey under her belt, will show you the tea room, the fireplace, and the bin where scones can be found at any hour, before sitting you down with a serious expression on her face.

"Now dear," she'll intone, "would you like to go heli-biking, glacier trekking, or skydiving?" We knew NZ was an adventure capital, but we never expected so many options. In the U.S., half this stuff would be illegal or outrageously expensive. Here, people think something is wrong with you if you haven't hurled yourself off a precipice of some sort. So we did. Photos to come later this week.