The Traditional Kiwi Experience (?) of Cross-Dressing
Westport -> Lake Mahinapua, 29th November 2001.
 Today
began with another early start to catch the coach back out of town,
which we caught on time today, so no angry driver. We made a few
stops on the way (still in the rain!) and passed through a few
towns. Every one seemed almost deserted, probably because New
Zealand has a population of only 3.5 million. 1 million live in the
whole of the South Island. 300,000 live in Christ church. About
200,000 live in a couple of the main cities, leaving about 500,000
to occupy an island almost the size of England!
Most of the Southern Island is grassland, sub-tropical rain forests,
mountains, lakes with few urban areas. This makes New Zealand very
beautiful but very quiet. We also found out that the west-coast
climate included almost 200 days of rain a year. This explained the
large amount of rain we seemed to be getting. However, when we move
back across to the east coast, the sun should start to get REALLY
good as the real NZ summer begins.
Today, like yesterday, was only an overnight stop on the way to the
main attraction of Queenstown (a small, but hugely famous & busy
town). After we'd left any form of civilisation miles behind, we
pulled up to a grey looking lake and drove slowly around it to our
accommodation. Our hostel was a tiny collection of tin buildings &
trailers in the middle of nowhere. The only other building was a
convenient pub linked to the hostel but nothing else for miles.
As we waited in the coach, the driver, Stu, announced that Liz was
about to board the bus. We were rather confused when a big, old man
with a bushy grey beard hanging half way down his chest, a thick
pair of glasses sandwiched on a wide nose and a green, tartan flat
cap covered in badges squatting on his head, walked onto the coach.
We quickly realised that if we translated the driver's Kiwi accent,
'Liz' actually meant 'Les'. Anyhow, Les then proceeded to explain
the details of the accommodation in a worn but cheerful voice.
After checking into our small trailer style dorm room, I decided to
take a little walk to see the lake. On the way I passed a large deer
pan and I tried to approach them to take some photos. However, their
hearing was amazing and if I even breathed within a 500m radius,
they'd look up at me and dash off. After a few tries, I gave up, and
kitted out in my rain jacket & camera, I went in hunt of some good
New Zealand scenery.
I paced cautiously through the small forest, skirting puddles and
slipping in the mud. However, after a short while, the rain caused
the track to be badly flooded, so I had to turn back after only a
quick glimpse of the lake.
Coming back to the hostel, Nat, Em, Stinge and I decided to check
out the pub. We soon realised that Stu's earlier comments about
"getting ready for the cross-dressing night" were not a joke.
Everyone was expected to dress up. The guys to dress up as girls and
the girls to wear outfits made of bin bags. Oh dear. This is going
to be an interesting night, and with nothing else around for miles,
there was no way out...
The pub itself was a small, dingy affair with ancient decor and an
equally ancient owner. He clearly had some deal with Kiwi
Experience. The walls of the pub were plastered with Polaroid photos
going back, for almost every night, to 1998. The photos clearly
showed the Kiwi Experience crowd dressed in drag & bin-bags posing
raucously for the camera, almost every night! The most recent photo
was the 27 November, 2 nights ok. The next space was ours, oh! oh!
Back in our rooms, we decided to throw together a quick meal. The
funny smell of the kitchen prevented us from spending too long in
there. We passed the driver, Stu, and he asked the girls if they had
made their outfits for tonight. They hadn't. So Stu handed them some
conveniently handy black bin bags. After deciding, we might as well
go for it, Em eagerly set to work sculpting her bin bags. She spent
ages carefully designing a dress & bikini top out of bin bags that
would make Versace envious. Nat set to her task as well, with less
effort, but still with good results.
Of course, it was now time for Stinge & I to brave dressing up as
women – Hmmmm! Stinge had already (almost eagerly) tried on Em's
little green halter neck top. After a couple of hours of fiddling &
struggling he worked out how the top worked and decided he REALLY
didn't like it. However, we still needed to do it. We had to take
part in this Kiwi Experience tradition.
Eventually we got dressed up, using Nat & Em's clothes. Luckily I
got Nat's long skirt, so it wasn't as embarrassing as Stinge having
to wear Em's short skirt. I also wore Nat's strappy top. After
stuffing it with socks, to give the correct 'womanly' appearance, I
looked in the mirror. I looked weird. The 'woman' bits in the
strappy top looked quite real. That was a scary image. After adding
a wig hastily made from left over bin bag bits, we were ready.
It took a while to gather the courage, but after peeking out of the
door to see others walking around, looking equally ridiculous, we
stepped nervously out. With Stinge complaining about his skinny arms
and me flipping the fake plaits of my plastic wig out of my face, we
left for the pub.
Thankfully, the night went really well. Only the people who DIDN'T
dress up felt stupid. Also, drink was plentiful & cheap, people were
friendly & sociable. Cheesy, but good, music played until the early
hours of next morning, and a good, traditional, New Zealand
Experience (?) was had by all. Cross-dressing is a really good
icebreaker. However, I don't think I'll be doing it again. I like my
own clothes and I look silly enough when dancing, never mind while
dressed as a woman.
After a good night out we stumbled back to our room & collapsed into
a deep slumber
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