Home again, home again, jiggity jig.
Our last day in Wellington was Sunday the 16th. We had to check out by 10am so we put our luggage into storage for the day. We walked downtown, stopping briefly at an Internet cafe. Most shops and buildings were locked up tight because it was Easter Sunday, but a few were open, including the tram.
We caught the tram up the hill to the Botanical Gardens and spent over two hours walking through the gardens. There were very few flowers but you could tell that in the spring and summer the gardens would be a delight of colors and scents. We stopped at a cafe for lunch, then hiked uphill for 15 minutes until we were back at the tram stop. Mom did quite well on the uphill walk, and only started to feel some pain in her leg near the top of the hill. We sat for a few minutes at the tram stop to rest up before catching the tram down to Lambton Quay.
From the tram station we walked to Queen's Wharf. One of New Zealand's two naval ships was at the dock, completely unguarded and with a ramp down and the doors open. LOL. In one of the wharf buildings was something called Plimmer's Ark-Gallery. I was curious so I dragged Mom inside. It turned out to be a display of an sailing vessel from the 1830's that they found in the sands below the wharf during construction of new wharf facilities. They excavated the ship (mostly just the keel and lower planks) and put the ship on display (in water-filled preservation chambers) in the wharf building.
As we exited the Plimmer's Ark-Gallery building I noticed a walkway along the water. We followed it all the way past Te Papa Museum and Oriental Bay, and turned around just short of Evans Bay. We must have walked for three hours along the water, admiring the sea views as well as the quirky mix of old and modern architecture in the buildings along the walkway.
We returned to the hostel around 3pm and had something to eat, then watched a movie on my laptop. We caught the airport shuttle at 5:30pm and easily caught our 7pm flight to Auckland.
The fellow sitting next to us on the flight, James, was quite chatty. We learned that he had been a famous Bollywood bad guy for several years, but when he found God he left the business and moved to New Zealand where he became a successful businessman. He currently runs two Bond+Bond stores in Wellington. It also turned out that he was on the same flight from Auckland to Singapore. He kindly helped us find the international terminal and the Singapore Airlines desk so we could get our seats. He then showed us where we could pay the airport improvement fee, and we spent the rest of our layover chatting about politics, religion, and culture. He had some interesting opinions, and was well-informed about New Zealand and Indian politics.
We were dog-tired when we boarded the plane at midnight. As soon as we reached cruising altitude the Singapore Airlines crew started serving dinner. I passed on the dinner and spent the entire flight watching movies. The only problem was that I had watched most of the new releases on the flight over to New Zealand, so I ended up watching some movies for the second time.
We arrived in Singapore early, around 6am. The airport was already humming with thousands of passengers, flight crews, and airport staff. I visited one of their free Internet kiosks to check my mail then we found a coffee shop and had some breakfast. After breakfast we walked around the shopping area, marvelling at the designer fashions and high-end beauty products that were for sale. They even had three electronics stores.
We boarded our flight to Incheon (Korea) at 10am, had lunch on the plane, and again settled in to watching movies. Mom was having problems with her TV set and remote control and I tried to solve them but she became really frustrated and gave up.
We had another two-hour layover in Incheon so airport staff could clean the airplane, restock it, and we could continue the flight with new crew. At Incheon we once again had to take all of our possessions off the plane, pass through security, then sit in a waiting area for all of 20 minutes until re-boarding the plane.
The flight from Incheon to Vancouver was a killer. We were hurting from sitting so long, plus we were battling dual desires to stay awake and sleep. We tried to get some sleep but there was a baby who wasn't enjoying the flight and was crying constantly. Also, no matter how we sat it was uncomfortable.
With about two hours left in the flight Mom started to feel nauseous. She went to the bathroom and threw up. She felt better afterwards, but over time she started to get the hot and cold sweats again. A stewardess was coming around to distribute drinks so I ordered two glasses of apple juice for Mom and asked if they had any anti-nauseants in their medical supplies. She brought back a chewy anti-nauseant and was about to leave to continue her drink-distribution when Mom got very quiet and hunched over in her seat. I said "Mom, are you alright!?!?" and the stewardess came back immediately. Mom tried to leave her seat to go to the bathroom but it was too late. Luckily the stewardess had quick reflexes; she grabbed a travel sickness bag and shoved it under Mom's chin just as she threw up.
I had been struggling to open the travel sickness bag for several seconds, but the damned thing was sealed at the top and you had to pull the top off along a perforated line. We were lucky the stewardess knew how to open it because we couldn't. You'd think they'd have a bag that was designed to be easily opened, eh?
Mom filled two bags but felt immensely better afterwards. The woman sitting next to Mom was quite nice about it and didn't seem to be affected by Mom's sickness because she tucked into breakfast when it was served a few minutes later. We got talked and found out she was a teacher and worked in Nunavut. She'd been to Bali, I think, and was actually planning to move there after she retired.
We were so very, very glad to arrive in Vancouver and get off the damned plane. Mom was very disoriented and when we turned down the hall to get to the departure gate for our flight to Victoria she thought we were going to walk onto the tarmac.
The flight to Victoria was uneventful but when we arrived our luggage was nowhere to be seen. It turns out that the agent in Auckland put us on an earlier flight than our luggage. Thankfully the airline offered to deliver our luggage to us when it arrived later that day. So, we left and our luggage did indeed arrive in the early evening.
It was absolute bliss to arrive home. We were exhausted but wired, and stayed awake as long as we could. I slept deeply that night but, as anyone who is long overdue on sleep will tell you, I didn't wake up feeling full of energy. It took a few more days to "get right".
So, that was our Singapore/New Zealand adventure. I had a wonderful time and look forward to returning to explore those countries again.
16.4.06
7:30am Sunday, April 16, 2006 Wellington
We got to the Te Papa Museum around 9:50am, 10 minutes before opening. There were already 100 people crammed into the lobby. We had a quick coffee then went back to the lobby to wait for the staff to open the museum. When they did, there was a huge rush upstairs to the LOTR exhibition ticketing booth.
I picked up our tickets (and even got some money off the ticket price because we are YHA members) and we caught an elevator to the fifth floor, which was where the LOTR exhibition had been set up. We walked in … and exclaimed “Wow!” as we looked around in awe at displays. Most of the displays were of costumes and props. The detailing in the costumes was amazing. On the extended DVD, the artists and actors all talk about the detail in the costumes and how that helped them portray their characters. I can see what they were talking about now. For example, the costume department could have just drawn designs on the leather items and it would have looked good. Instead, they actually pressed and carved the designs into the leather. Similarly, they could have just knitted wool into a chainmail pattern and painted it to look like metal links. Instead, they pressed 2.5-million metal links and hooked them together one link at a time to make full suits of chainmail.
Other displays demonstrated how they achieved some of the special effects. For example, they showed how they used forced perspective and scale models to make the hobbits look so small. You could sit on a replica of Gandalf’s cart to see how they filmed Gandalf and Frodo riding into Hobbiton together.
Some of the most fascinating displays were the scale models or “bigatures” of places like Orthanc and Minas Tirith. Again, the level of detail was amazing. You would swear you were looking at a real tower or town. The marquettes and full-scale models of monsters like the cave troll were also so detailed you’d swear they were alive. They even had a small motor moving the cave troll’s jaw up and down slightly, which made you think he was breathing. (By the way, the cave troll is anatomically correct. Poor guy didn’t inherit much in the way of family jewels.)
Many of the displays had TV screens next to them, and you could use buttons to select short video clips of people like Peter Jackson or Richard Taylor demonstrating how they chose locations, interpreted the book, created props, and so on. The clips were different from those available on the extended DVDs, so it was really exciting to watch the clips then turn to the left or right and see the actual costume, prop, or bigature.
We spent about two hours in the exhibit, then went to the LOTR exhibit shop. I really wanted a t-shirt with the silver tree of Gondor on it but, once again, the t-shirts were so small there was no hope in hell I’d ever fit into one. I swear, the labels on the t-shirts say XL but they’re only M. Even Mom is having a hard time finding a t-shirt that will fit and she normally wears an M or L. So, instead I bought a book and a hat. Sigh.
We had lunch at the museum and went up to the fourth floor to look at the Maori exhibits. We were expecting them to be much more extensive and educational. We spent two hours in the exhibits but could have covered them in much less time.
We left the museum around 3pm and walked back to the hostel. We went across the street to the New World market and once again it was a zoo. We pushed and shoved our way through the aisles until we’d gathered our four or five items, then queued with about 100 other people in the express check out lanes.
When we got back to the hostel I saw a young English fellow that I’d talked to briefly in the Nelson hostel. He’d had a great time kayaking in Abel Tasman Park, but at some point during the Interislander ferry trip to Wellington he’d fallen asleep and someone had nicked his wallet. He’d spent the entire day on the phone trying to cancel his cards and get new ones. We offered him some money so he could go out and get something to eat but he said he was okay, that he would somehow be getting a new credit card within the hour.
We had dinner then went upstairs and repacked our bags because they’ve gotten somewhat disorganized over the past few weeks. Then we watched the remainder of Sideways and went to bed.
This morning we’ll catch the tram up the mountain and explore the Botanical Gardens. At 5:30pm the shuttle will swing by and take us to the airport for our flight to Auckland. Our flight home departs Auckland tonight. If you include the layovers, it will take over 30 hours to get from Auckland to Victoria. However, because we’re crossing the International Date Line we’ll depart at midnight tonight and arrive at 2:30pm tomorrow. Funny, eh?
We’re both sad to be leaving New Zealand. We’ll have to come back and spend more time here.
I picked up our tickets (and even got some money off the ticket price because we are YHA members) and we caught an elevator to the fifth floor, which was where the LOTR exhibition had been set up. We walked in … and exclaimed “Wow!” as we looked around in awe at displays. Most of the displays were of costumes and props. The detailing in the costumes was amazing. On the extended DVD, the artists and actors all talk about the detail in the costumes and how that helped them portray their characters. I can see what they were talking about now. For example, the costume department could have just drawn designs on the leather items and it would have looked good. Instead, they actually pressed and carved the designs into the leather. Similarly, they could have just knitted wool into a chainmail pattern and painted it to look like metal links. Instead, they pressed 2.5-million metal links and hooked them together one link at a time to make full suits of chainmail.
Other displays demonstrated how they achieved some of the special effects. For example, they showed how they used forced perspective and scale models to make the hobbits look so small. You could sit on a replica of Gandalf’s cart to see how they filmed Gandalf and Frodo riding into Hobbiton together.
Some of the most fascinating displays were the scale models or “bigatures” of places like Orthanc and Minas Tirith. Again, the level of detail was amazing. You would swear you were looking at a real tower or town. The marquettes and full-scale models of monsters like the cave troll were also so detailed you’d swear they were alive. They even had a small motor moving the cave troll’s jaw up and down slightly, which made you think he was breathing. (By the way, the cave troll is anatomically correct. Poor guy didn’t inherit much in the way of family jewels.)
Many of the displays had TV screens next to them, and you could use buttons to select short video clips of people like Peter Jackson or Richard Taylor demonstrating how they chose locations, interpreted the book, created props, and so on. The clips were different from those available on the extended DVDs, so it was really exciting to watch the clips then turn to the left or right and see the actual costume, prop, or bigature.
We spent about two hours in the exhibit, then went to the LOTR exhibit shop. I really wanted a t-shirt with the silver tree of Gondor on it but, once again, the t-shirts were so small there was no hope in hell I’d ever fit into one. I swear, the labels on the t-shirts say XL but they’re only M. Even Mom is having a hard time finding a t-shirt that will fit and she normally wears an M or L. So, instead I bought a book and a hat. Sigh.
We had lunch at the museum and went up to the fourth floor to look at the Maori exhibits. We were expecting them to be much more extensive and educational. We spent two hours in the exhibits but could have covered them in much less time.
We left the museum around 3pm and walked back to the hostel. We went across the street to the New World market and once again it was a zoo. We pushed and shoved our way through the aisles until we’d gathered our four or five items, then queued with about 100 other people in the express check out lanes.
When we got back to the hostel I saw a young English fellow that I’d talked to briefly in the Nelson hostel. He’d had a great time kayaking in Abel Tasman Park, but at some point during the Interislander ferry trip to Wellington he’d fallen asleep and someone had nicked his wallet. He’d spent the entire day on the phone trying to cancel his cards and get new ones. We offered him some money so he could go out and get something to eat but he said he was okay, that he would somehow be getting a new credit card within the hour.
We had dinner then went upstairs and repacked our bags because they’ve gotten somewhat disorganized over the past few weeks. Then we watched the remainder of Sideways and went to bed.
This morning we’ll catch the tram up the mountain and explore the Botanical Gardens. At 5:30pm the shuttle will swing by and take us to the airport for our flight to Auckland. Our flight home departs Auckland tonight. If you include the layovers, it will take over 30 hours to get from Auckland to Victoria. However, because we’re crossing the International Date Line we’ll depart at midnight tonight and arrive at 2:30pm tomorrow. Funny, eh?
We’re both sad to be leaving New Zealand. We’ll have to come back and spend more time here.
8am Saturday, April 15, 2006 Wellington
We had to leave the hostel in Picton at 9am because our car was parked on the street and we had been assured by the hostel staff that if it was there at 9:05am the traffic warden would be all too happy to write us a ticket. I’m not sure if that was true or not (Picton seemed too sleepy a town to employ such a vigilant traffic warden) but we departed at 9am anyway.
Our first stop was the library, situated on the adjacent street (50 meters from the hostel). I spent 40 minutes updating my blog. The parking limit was an hour, so once again we drove over one street (approx. 40 meters) where we stopped at the bakery for breakfast.
We had booked the 1:15pm ferry because we had planned to have breakfast with Stew’s mum in Blenheim. Unfortunately we hadn’t informed her about our breakfast plans and when we called she was busy and couldn’t make it.
In the bakery I told Mom that I wasn’t really interested in hanging around Picton for another three hours. She suggested that we drive to the ferry terminal to see if there was an earlier sailing that we could catch. So, we got into the car and drove over.
At the ticket counter the woman explained that the 10am sailing was late (it was 10:20am) and that if we could arrange tickets, check in our luggage, and settle the rental car with Hertz within 5 minutes we could catch that sailing. There was no way we could do all of that so quickly so we resigned ourselves to travelling on the 1:15pm ferry.
The ticket counter woman recommended that we check in our luggage for the 1:15pm sailing so we didn’t have to carry it around with us. Great idea, we thought. We walked back to the car and I drove it around to the entrance. We unloaded our bags and wheeled them to the luggage check in counter.
The woman at the luggage check in counter explained that the 10am sailing wouldn’t be leaving for another 15 minutes and suggested we try to catch that sailing. I can barely remember what happened next. I think I went back to the car and parked it, then dropped off the key at the Hertz counter. In the meantime Mom got tickets and checked in our luggage. Then we were upstairs in the boarding lounge and walking on to the ferry.
We settled into seats in the Foc’sle Lounge and stared at each other in shock. We’d never departed a place in such a hurry and with such uncertainty. We wondered if we’d removed everything from the car and if it was okay to just drop off the key at the counter. Eventually we had to just shrug and assume that everything would be alright.
We met a nice Australian woman who was looking for a block of four seats. We got chatting and the next thing you know 45 minutes had passed. Her mother came by to find out where she was, which was funny when you realized the woman was in her 50s and her Mom was in her 70s. Moms will be Moms.
The rest of the sailing was quite boring. The ship was huge but the services were quite limited. There was the Foc’sle Lounge, a very small café (that wasn’t being patronized, which tells you something about the quality of the food), a video game room, a small room with four desks for computer users, two TV rooms, and that’s it. You could walk around the decks, and many people spent the 4-hour voyage doing laps.
We arrived in Wellington at 3pm and our luggage, having been loaded at the last minute, was the first to be unloaded. We quickly grabbed our luggage and found a cab. Our cabbie was a woman, possibly of Polynesian descent, who had been to Canada. We chatted a lot about her trip on the way to the hostel.
The hostel in Wellington is like a hotel. It’s very clean and modern and has magical things called elevators. Most of the facilities are on the first and second floors. The hostel also has a very grumpy old hostel cat named Thomas, who didn’t seem to like being petted. Perhaps I’ve just lost the touch after so much time away from our cats.
We settled into our room then went outside to enjoy the sunshine. We walked down Wakefield Street and discovered Manners Mall, a pedestrian-only shopping area. Mom ordered flowers for Christine, then we continued our stroll over to Lambton Quay. We had explored that area a bit on our previous visit, but our memories were of a dark and depressing street and people rushing from one place to another in the rain. This time, the sun was shining and the street had a completely different aspect. The architecture was stunning, we noticed all kinds of public artwork, the people were happily shopping and stopping to talk to friends.
We walked down Lambton Quay to Waring Taylor Street, where we stopped for coffee and a snack. Then we headed back toward Manners Mall. On the map I’d noticed another pedestrian mall on Cuba Street, adjacent to Manners Street. We found it easily and enjoyed walking up the street. I’d read that Cuba Street was full of restaurants and bars but didn’t notice any until we got close to Vivian Street. I also noticed that the restaurants and bars were somewhat seedy and populated mostly by unkempt men.
We turned around and headed back down Cuba Street. I had noticed a small Malaysian restaurant on the way up the street and we stopped to read the menu. The food looked excellent and the prices were amazingly cheap. We walked in and bumped into the Australian woman that we’d met on the ferry. She was with her two sisters and her Mom. It was the strangest coincidence.
We ordered mee goreng and nyonya chicken, plus some roti and rice. The total was NZ$22. We were expecting two small plates but instead the proprietess arrived with two gigantic plates heaped with food. We dug in and it was fantastic! We couldn’t finish it, of course, so the proprietess brought over two take-away containers. We happily scooped the remaining food into the containers, anticipating having it for dinner the next night.
We walked back to the hostel along Dixon Street and Courtenay Place. We discovered that Courtenay Place was chock-a-block with restaurants and bars. Unfortunately those restaurants and bars were also chock-a-block with people cutting loose. It would be a great place to hang out with friends, but not really the place you go with your Mom.
We stopped at New World to buy some breakfast fixings. It was absolutely crazy inside the store. You could barely walk down the aisles because they were choked with buggies. It took nearly 20 minutes to get through the check-out counter. We’d been told that the shops would be closed over the weekend but didn’t anticipate the grocery store closing. I guess everyone was stocking up on food and booze for the weekend, thus the craziness.
We hung out in our room at the hostel for a bit then called Piripi. He had emailed to say that he was working until around 8:30pm. He didn’t pick up on the first call, but picked up on the second call. He invited us over for tea so I asked how we could get there by bus. It was too far to travel by bus so he drove all the way into town and met us by the hostel.
The quieter cafés beside the hostel were closing so we went to the hostel dining room to chat. We had really hoped to chat about Maori culture and history but somehow the conversation turned to travel and we spent most of the night talking about other stuff. At 11pm we said our goodbyes. Piripi had to get up at 6am to catch a flight to Gisborne. He was heading home to Whangara for the Easter weekend. We thanked him for taking the time to meet us and we gave him some blackberry port and smoked salmon that we’d brought from home. He said he’d probably tuck into the salmon as soon as he got home!
We got up early on Friday because we had booked the Rover Ring Tour, and the van was going to swing around to the hostel at 8:40am to pick us up. It was gorgeous and sunny again and we hoped that we’d get another warm day for the tour.
Our tour guide, Nathan, pulled up promptly at 8:40am. He was a tall, gregarious guy and I immediately liked him. There were already four other people in the van – a young student from the U.S., a middle-aged couple from England wearing LOTR shirts, and a woman about my age from Toronto. We drove around the block and stopped.
Nathan asked if he knew why we were stopping. Well, turns out we were on Courtenay Place and could see a theatre at Courtenay and Cambridge Terrace. The world premier of Return of the King had been screened at that theatre, and Courtenay Place had been transformed to a red carpet reception area for the premier. Over 150,000 people showed up to the premier, which is about 1/3 of Wellington’s population.
From there we drove to the top of Mt. Victoria for a 360 degree view of Wellington. Nathan pointed out the Mirimar Peninsula where we’d be spending a good part of the morning. Then we drove down the hill to an entrance to the Town Belt park. We parked and hiked about 10 minutes into the park. There we found the places where they’d filmed the hobbits falling down the hill and finding mushrooms, the famous “Get off the road!” scene, and the race to the ferry.
Mushrooms/get off the road:
Nazgul silhouette:
From the park we drove to the Mirimar Peninsula, past Peter Jackson’s house, to the Chocolate Fish Café. Peter Jackson rented houses along the street next to his for most of the stars and many of them hung out at the Chocolate Fish Café. You can only get there by car – no buses travel there – so we parked and got out to enjoy a coffee and snacks in the sunshine.
The cafe:
Waiters crossing:
We also drove by the old Army barracks (now a toney suburb) where they had weapons training and built the town of Bree. Not much is left except the field.
We drove back past Peter’s house and deep into the ‘burbs to Weta Workshop, located on Camperdown Street. There is a huge sign saying Camperdown Studios and a little tiny sign saying Weta Workshop. It’s the most nondescript building you can imagine. Nathan explained that on work days most of the windows are open and you can see people working on props and sets. Unfortunately the windows were closed because most of the staff were away enjoying the Easter weekend.
Camperdown Studios/Weta Workshop:
We drove a few blocks away to another nondescript building, slightly more modern, in which Peter Jackson built the biggest post-production editing studio in the southern hemisphere following LOTR. We also drove around the corner from that to the studio where they do a lot of sound-stage filming. The studio is an old paint factory located next to the airport, and Nathan explained that 95% of the scenes filmed there had to be fixed up to remove the noise of the airplanes and the traffic.
The film studio:
Our next stop was the Dry Creek Quarry where they build Helm’s Deep and Minas Tirith. Apparently Peter Jackson asked the quarry owners how much it would cost for them to stop production there for a year, they gave him a crazy figure, he wrote a check, and Peter had himself a quarry. They actually blew up the Deeping Wall at Helm’s Deep with dynamite because, being a quarry, they were allowed to blow stuff up for real.
Dry Creek Quarry/Helm's Deep/Minas Tirith:
We drove from there to Kaitoke Regional Park where they filmed scenes for Rivendell. We had a picnic lunch then walked around the park for 30 minutes. Nathan met us at the end of the walk and showed us the tiny 20-meter area where they filmed all of Rivendell. It’s literally a small bit of path next to a creek. Amazing.
The rabid LOTR fans (Rowena, Claire, Steve, Dave, & Mary-Jane):
Rivendell...seriously:
Rowena, elf-maid:
Our final stop was a city park where they filmed Isengard. Again, you could pick out a couple of trees and got a general sense that the area had been Isengard. Nathan pointed out two depressions in the ground where they’d built trees for the Orcs to pull down. Apparently they used two real tree stumps and added branches and leaves to create the trees because by law you can’t cut down any trees in the parks. They rebuilt the trees, using a different configuration of branches and leaves, for every shot.
We were exhausted by then and happy with the tour. We chatted about the film on the way back to town. The funny thing was that in the morning Nathan had asked us to rate, from 1 to 10, how big of a fan we were. I said I was a 7. It turns out I was the one spouting out LOTR facts all day long. Whenever Nathan asked a question I knew the answer, or could sort of guess the answer. So, we joked that we’d have to shift my rating from 7 to 11.
We had a quiet dinner of left-over Malaysian food. It was just as good as the day before. We started watching the movie Sideways but were so tired that we went to sleep at 7:45pm.
Today we’re going to Te Papa Museum. Fortunately they opened a special LOTR exhibition there yesterday, so it’s the first place we’ll go to. Then we’ll explore the exhibits about Maori culture and history, and as many other exhibits as we can.
Our first stop was the library, situated on the adjacent street (50 meters from the hostel). I spent 40 minutes updating my blog. The parking limit was an hour, so once again we drove over one street (approx. 40 meters) where we stopped at the bakery for breakfast.
We had booked the 1:15pm ferry because we had planned to have breakfast with Stew’s mum in Blenheim. Unfortunately we hadn’t informed her about our breakfast plans and when we called she was busy and couldn’t make it.
In the bakery I told Mom that I wasn’t really interested in hanging around Picton for another three hours. She suggested that we drive to the ferry terminal to see if there was an earlier sailing that we could catch. So, we got into the car and drove over.
At the ticket counter the woman explained that the 10am sailing was late (it was 10:20am) and that if we could arrange tickets, check in our luggage, and settle the rental car with Hertz within 5 minutes we could catch that sailing. There was no way we could do all of that so quickly so we resigned ourselves to travelling on the 1:15pm ferry.
The ticket counter woman recommended that we check in our luggage for the 1:15pm sailing so we didn’t have to carry it around with us. Great idea, we thought. We walked back to the car and I drove it around to the entrance. We unloaded our bags and wheeled them to the luggage check in counter.
The woman at the luggage check in counter explained that the 10am sailing wouldn’t be leaving for another 15 minutes and suggested we try to catch that sailing. I can barely remember what happened next. I think I went back to the car and parked it, then dropped off the key at the Hertz counter. In the meantime Mom got tickets and checked in our luggage. Then we were upstairs in the boarding lounge and walking on to the ferry.
We settled into seats in the Foc’sle Lounge and stared at each other in shock. We’d never departed a place in such a hurry and with such uncertainty. We wondered if we’d removed everything from the car and if it was okay to just drop off the key at the counter. Eventually we had to just shrug and assume that everything would be alright.
We met a nice Australian woman who was looking for a block of four seats. We got chatting and the next thing you know 45 minutes had passed. Her mother came by to find out where she was, which was funny when you realized the woman was in her 50s and her Mom was in her 70s. Moms will be Moms.
The rest of the sailing was quite boring. The ship was huge but the services were quite limited. There was the Foc’sle Lounge, a very small café (that wasn’t being patronized, which tells you something about the quality of the food), a video game room, a small room with four desks for computer users, two TV rooms, and that’s it. You could walk around the decks, and many people spent the 4-hour voyage doing laps.
We arrived in Wellington at 3pm and our luggage, having been loaded at the last minute, was the first to be unloaded. We quickly grabbed our luggage and found a cab. Our cabbie was a woman, possibly of Polynesian descent, who had been to Canada. We chatted a lot about her trip on the way to the hostel.
The hostel in Wellington is like a hotel. It’s very clean and modern and has magical things called elevators. Most of the facilities are on the first and second floors. The hostel also has a very grumpy old hostel cat named Thomas, who didn’t seem to like being petted. Perhaps I’ve just lost the touch after so much time away from our cats.
We settled into our room then went outside to enjoy the sunshine. We walked down Wakefield Street and discovered Manners Mall, a pedestrian-only shopping area. Mom ordered flowers for Christine, then we continued our stroll over to Lambton Quay. We had explored that area a bit on our previous visit, but our memories were of a dark and depressing street and people rushing from one place to another in the rain. This time, the sun was shining and the street had a completely different aspect. The architecture was stunning, we noticed all kinds of public artwork, the people were happily shopping and stopping to talk to friends.
We walked down Lambton Quay to Waring Taylor Street, where we stopped for coffee and a snack. Then we headed back toward Manners Mall. On the map I’d noticed another pedestrian mall on Cuba Street, adjacent to Manners Street. We found it easily and enjoyed walking up the street. I’d read that Cuba Street was full of restaurants and bars but didn’t notice any until we got close to Vivian Street. I also noticed that the restaurants and bars were somewhat seedy and populated mostly by unkempt men.
We turned around and headed back down Cuba Street. I had noticed a small Malaysian restaurant on the way up the street and we stopped to read the menu. The food looked excellent and the prices were amazingly cheap. We walked in and bumped into the Australian woman that we’d met on the ferry. She was with her two sisters and her Mom. It was the strangest coincidence.
We ordered mee goreng and nyonya chicken, plus some roti and rice. The total was NZ$22. We were expecting two small plates but instead the proprietess arrived with two gigantic plates heaped with food. We dug in and it was fantastic! We couldn’t finish it, of course, so the proprietess brought over two take-away containers. We happily scooped the remaining food into the containers, anticipating having it for dinner the next night.
We walked back to the hostel along Dixon Street and Courtenay Place. We discovered that Courtenay Place was chock-a-block with restaurants and bars. Unfortunately those restaurants and bars were also chock-a-block with people cutting loose. It would be a great place to hang out with friends, but not really the place you go with your Mom.
We stopped at New World to buy some breakfast fixings. It was absolutely crazy inside the store. You could barely walk down the aisles because they were choked with buggies. It took nearly 20 minutes to get through the check-out counter. We’d been told that the shops would be closed over the weekend but didn’t anticipate the grocery store closing. I guess everyone was stocking up on food and booze for the weekend, thus the craziness.
We hung out in our room at the hostel for a bit then called Piripi. He had emailed to say that he was working until around 8:30pm. He didn’t pick up on the first call, but picked up on the second call. He invited us over for tea so I asked how we could get there by bus. It was too far to travel by bus so he drove all the way into town and met us by the hostel.
The quieter cafés beside the hostel were closing so we went to the hostel dining room to chat. We had really hoped to chat about Maori culture and history but somehow the conversation turned to travel and we spent most of the night talking about other stuff. At 11pm we said our goodbyes. Piripi had to get up at 6am to catch a flight to Gisborne. He was heading home to Whangara for the Easter weekend. We thanked him for taking the time to meet us and we gave him some blackberry port and smoked salmon that we’d brought from home. He said he’d probably tuck into the salmon as soon as he got home!
We got up early on Friday because we had booked the Rover Ring Tour, and the van was going to swing around to the hostel at 8:40am to pick us up. It was gorgeous and sunny again and we hoped that we’d get another warm day for the tour.
Our tour guide, Nathan, pulled up promptly at 8:40am. He was a tall, gregarious guy and I immediately liked him. There were already four other people in the van – a young student from the U.S., a middle-aged couple from England wearing LOTR shirts, and a woman about my age from Toronto. We drove around the block and stopped.
Nathan asked if he knew why we were stopping. Well, turns out we were on Courtenay Place and could see a theatre at Courtenay and Cambridge Terrace. The world premier of Return of the King had been screened at that theatre, and Courtenay Place had been transformed to a red carpet reception area for the premier. Over 150,000 people showed up to the premier, which is about 1/3 of Wellington’s population.
From there we drove to the top of Mt. Victoria for a 360 degree view of Wellington. Nathan pointed out the Mirimar Peninsula where we’d be spending a good part of the morning. Then we drove down the hill to an entrance to the Town Belt park. We parked and hiked about 10 minutes into the park. There we found the places where they’d filmed the hobbits falling down the hill and finding mushrooms, the famous “Get off the road!” scene, and the race to the ferry.
Mushrooms/get off the road:
Nazgul silhouette:
From the park we drove to the Mirimar Peninsula, past Peter Jackson’s house, to the Chocolate Fish Café. Peter Jackson rented houses along the street next to his for most of the stars and many of them hung out at the Chocolate Fish Café. You can only get there by car – no buses travel there – so we parked and got out to enjoy a coffee and snacks in the sunshine.
The cafe:
Waiters crossing:
We also drove by the old Army barracks (now a toney suburb) where they had weapons training and built the town of Bree. Not much is left except the field.
We drove back past Peter’s house and deep into the ‘burbs to Weta Workshop, located on Camperdown Street. There is a huge sign saying Camperdown Studios and a little tiny sign saying Weta Workshop. It’s the most nondescript building you can imagine. Nathan explained that on work days most of the windows are open and you can see people working on props and sets. Unfortunately the windows were closed because most of the staff were away enjoying the Easter weekend.
Camperdown Studios/Weta Workshop:
We drove a few blocks away to another nondescript building, slightly more modern, in which Peter Jackson built the biggest post-production editing studio in the southern hemisphere following LOTR. We also drove around the corner from that to the studio where they do a lot of sound-stage filming. The studio is an old paint factory located next to the airport, and Nathan explained that 95% of the scenes filmed there had to be fixed up to remove the noise of the airplanes and the traffic.
The film studio:
Our next stop was the Dry Creek Quarry where they build Helm’s Deep and Minas Tirith. Apparently Peter Jackson asked the quarry owners how much it would cost for them to stop production there for a year, they gave him a crazy figure, he wrote a check, and Peter had himself a quarry. They actually blew up the Deeping Wall at Helm’s Deep with dynamite because, being a quarry, they were allowed to blow stuff up for real.
Dry Creek Quarry/Helm's Deep/Minas Tirith:
We drove from there to Kaitoke Regional Park where they filmed scenes for Rivendell. We had a picnic lunch then walked around the park for 30 minutes. Nathan met us at the end of the walk and showed us the tiny 20-meter area where they filmed all of Rivendell. It’s literally a small bit of path next to a creek. Amazing.
The rabid LOTR fans (Rowena, Claire, Steve, Dave, & Mary-Jane):
Rivendell...seriously:
Rowena, elf-maid:
Our final stop was a city park where they filmed Isengard. Again, you could pick out a couple of trees and got a general sense that the area had been Isengard. Nathan pointed out two depressions in the ground where they’d built trees for the Orcs to pull down. Apparently they used two real tree stumps and added branches and leaves to create the trees because by law you can’t cut down any trees in the parks. They rebuilt the trees, using a different configuration of branches and leaves, for every shot.
We were exhausted by then and happy with the tour. We chatted about the film on the way back to town. The funny thing was that in the morning Nathan had asked us to rate, from 1 to 10, how big of a fan we were. I said I was a 7. It turns out I was the one spouting out LOTR facts all day long. Whenever Nathan asked a question I knew the answer, or could sort of guess the answer. So, we joked that we’d have to shift my rating from 7 to 11.
We had a quiet dinner of left-over Malaysian food. It was just as good as the day before. We started watching the movie Sideways but were so tired that we went to sleep at 7:45pm.
Today we’re going to Te Papa Museum. Fortunately they opened a special LOTR exhibition there yesterday, so it’s the first place we’ll go to. Then we’ll explore the exhibits about Maori culture and history, and as many other exhibits as we can.
13.4.06
7:30am Thursday, April 13, 2006 Picton
I had to get up early in Nelson to feed the parking meter. About 20 other people had to do the same thing. Some people had just crawled out of bed and could barely see because their eyes were so full of sand. Others had just finished showering and were glumly trudging to the meter with wet, uncombed hair. Finally, there were those horrible morning people who had been awake for a couple of hours already and had a spring in their step, a smile on their face, and said “Good morning!” to everyone they passed.
We left Nelson early and had a pleasant drive to Picton. Again, I followed the signs to the city center and eventually found an information center by the ferry terminal. We got directions to the hostel and suggestions for a couple of Internet cafés.
You have to be careful at Internet cafés here. Many of them will not let you plug in a Flash drive or copy files from a disc. In Gisborne the café operator explained why – he pays a flat rate for broadband service and a certain amount of traffic. He pays a metered rate for any additional traffic. So, when I enter an Internet café the first thing I have to ask is if they will allow me to use my Flash drive.
In Picton, the first Internet café that I went into was situated in the video store. I asked a woman at the counter if I could use my Flash drive and she quickly said “No”. I wasn’t sure if she knew what it was so I explained that it was like a disc that you put in the computer. She said “I know what it is. You can’t use it.” Fine. I asked if there were any Internet cafés that would allow me to use my Flash drive and she suggested the hostel and the library. I knew that the hostel usually didn’t allow Flash drives and doubted that the library would, and asked if there were any other cafés in town. She rudely replied “I just told you!” Sheesh.
I walked to the library next and asked the lady at the counter if I could use my Flash drive. “No problem”, she said. Yay! She showed me to a computer and explained that I could plug my Flash drive into the modem. Hunh? She was pointing downwards and when I looked down I saw that she was pointing to the PC tower. Ah.
I uploaded my photos and updated my blog. While I was doing that Mom walked around the town and had a coffee at the bakery. When she returned I was finished so I paid the librarian $4 for my Internet time and we drove to the hostel.
Unfortunately the hostel reception was closed and would re-open until the evening. We snooped around and found a bunch of lockers. We moved our hand luggage from the back seat of the car into a locker, then drove back to the information center to inquire about the mail boat ride.
In Marlborough Sound there are about 30 small homesteads that can only be accessed by boat. The post office pays a boat operator in Picton to deliver mail to these small homesteads. Tourists can pay $75 to go on the 5-hour trip. When we read about it in Canada we were really keen to go on the mail boat ride. However, after the disappoinment of the water taxi to Abel Tasman Park we were unsure whether we wanted to spend another afternoon on a boat staring out at trees, rocks, and beaches.
At the information center we asked if the trip was enjoyable. The woman was very enthusiastic about the ride, so decided to sign up for the trip. The mail boat didn’t depart until 1pm (it was just before noon) so we went across the road for lunch.
After lunch we wandered around the waterfront and found the dock where the mail boat was moored. I saw a yacht broker on the next finger so I wandered over to look at the listings. A wizened old man came out and asked if I wanted to buy all of them. I laughed, and explained that my friend Helena was thinking of picking up a boat in New Zealand and that I was just checking the listings for her. I asked about the boat construction and things like osmosis and the best place to buy boats. He patiently explained construction details and agreed that it wasn’t a good idea to buy a fiberglass boat built prior to 1980 because they were more prone to osmosis. He also confirmed that it was cheaper to buy boats in the smaller ports like Picton because in Auckland you pay city prices. He also explained that in Auckland people preferred lighter boats with huge sails because of the light winds in the region, and that those boats were unsuitable for sailing in the heavier wind in the southern regions. Good to know, I said. We had to board the mail boat so I thanked him, gratefully accepted a business card, and said goodbye.
The mailboat had two hulls and two moters, and was extremely fast. There was a top deck with rows of chairs and on a hot summer day would be fabulous. It wasn’t a hot summer day, however, so Mom and I only stayed up top for 15 minutes before the cold chased us down the stairs to the covered cabin.
View from the top deck:
We met two really nice Australian couples and chatted up a storm for the first part of the trip. We were amazed to see the small docks that the mail boat pulled up to. Ken, the mail man, simply opened a window by his chair and threw the boxes and mail bags up onto the docks. The locals duly threw mail bags back to Ken, who tossed the bags back into the cabin. Four-legged locals were extremely happy to see Ken because they were treated to biscuits. If Ken couldn’t hand a biscuit directly to a dog he put it into tiny blue “mail bags” with the name of the dog sewn into the bag, then tied the blue mail bag to the larger mail bags. The blue mail bag was opened as soon as possible, as you can imagine.
The quick hand-off of a propane tank:
At one homestead a woman handed an oblong parcel through the window. Ken turned to a fellow who had been helping him lift boxes up and said “You take this. I’m not good with these.” He was holding a 7-month-old baby that was tightly swaddled. The fellow was totally shocked and carefully took the baby. Then Ken helped the woman climb through the window and brought her two bags inside. The whole exchange reminded me of the Sunshine Coast where I’ve climbed onto more than one boat via a window.
I got talking to the woman and learned that she was heading to the North Island for her mother’s unveiling. I wasn’t sure what that was so she explained that a year after a Maori person dies the family meets again. I was having trouble hearing her over the engines so missed the rest of the explanation. I wonder if the unveiling involves the erection of a headstone at the cemetary?
We chatted for the rest of the trip. I learned that Rangi had travelled most of New Zealand for work. She worked for a demolition company and operated the big machines that knocked down buildings. Her partner was a builder, so I joked that he put up the buildings and she knocked them down. Her baby, Jaxom, was a happy little guy and kept staring at me and giving me these big grins. She explained that he loved being outdoors and only cried when she brought him into the house. A wise woman had predicted that he would be a strong leader one day, and I could see it – he was such a calm, observant, and happy guy.
Rangi and Jaxom:
We stopped at Ship’s Cove and had 15 minutes to go ashore to a cairn erected to honor Cook’s numerous visits to Marlborough Sound. On the walk to the cairn I noticed a rather large brown bird on the grass. I stopped and slowly pulled my camera out of my bag. I didn’t need to be cautious because the bird bravely walked right up to me, looking for food I assume. I learned later that the bird is called a weka.
Friendly little weka:
Cook cairn:
In Endeavor Inlet we stopped at a lonely wharf to pick up two people who had been hiking the Queen Charlotte Track. Then we went to another wharf to pick up another hiker, but he wasn’t there. We waited for 10 minutes, then Ken used the radio to ask if the hiker was at one of the homesteads. A fellow called back to say that the hiker was at another wharf. Ken grumbled and grudgingly went over to the other wharf. When the hiker got on board Ken asked why he wasn’t at the assigned pick-up location, the hiker shrugged and said he just didn’t want to walk any further. Ken rolled his eyes and turned the mail boat towards Picton, a full 30 minutes behind schedule.
Ken at the wheel, the view locals get:
We dropped Rangi and Jaxom off at the ferry terminal. This time Rangi had to climb the side of the boat then scramble onto the high ferry dock. When she was up on the dock Ken handed up her bags and then Jaxom. We waved goodbye and Ken took us back to the mail boat dock. We departed and happily walked back to the car and drove to the hostel, where we checked in and enjoyed a dinner of fried chicken from a café across the street.
We had an early night and slept well. This morning we will explore Picton a bit, then return the rental car and catch the ferry to Wellington.
We left Nelson early and had a pleasant drive to Picton. Again, I followed the signs to the city center and eventually found an information center by the ferry terminal. We got directions to the hostel and suggestions for a couple of Internet cafés.
You have to be careful at Internet cafés here. Many of them will not let you plug in a Flash drive or copy files from a disc. In Gisborne the café operator explained why – he pays a flat rate for broadband service and a certain amount of traffic. He pays a metered rate for any additional traffic. So, when I enter an Internet café the first thing I have to ask is if they will allow me to use my Flash drive.
In Picton, the first Internet café that I went into was situated in the video store. I asked a woman at the counter if I could use my Flash drive and she quickly said “No”. I wasn’t sure if she knew what it was so I explained that it was like a disc that you put in the computer. She said “I know what it is. You can’t use it.” Fine. I asked if there were any Internet cafés that would allow me to use my Flash drive and she suggested the hostel and the library. I knew that the hostel usually didn’t allow Flash drives and doubted that the library would, and asked if there were any other cafés in town. She rudely replied “I just told you!” Sheesh.
I walked to the library next and asked the lady at the counter if I could use my Flash drive. “No problem”, she said. Yay! She showed me to a computer and explained that I could plug my Flash drive into the modem. Hunh? She was pointing downwards and when I looked down I saw that she was pointing to the PC tower. Ah.
I uploaded my photos and updated my blog. While I was doing that Mom walked around the town and had a coffee at the bakery. When she returned I was finished so I paid the librarian $4 for my Internet time and we drove to the hostel.
Unfortunately the hostel reception was closed and would re-open until the evening. We snooped around and found a bunch of lockers. We moved our hand luggage from the back seat of the car into a locker, then drove back to the information center to inquire about the mail boat ride.
In Marlborough Sound there are about 30 small homesteads that can only be accessed by boat. The post office pays a boat operator in Picton to deliver mail to these small homesteads. Tourists can pay $75 to go on the 5-hour trip. When we read about it in Canada we were really keen to go on the mail boat ride. However, after the disappoinment of the water taxi to Abel Tasman Park we were unsure whether we wanted to spend another afternoon on a boat staring out at trees, rocks, and beaches.
At the information center we asked if the trip was enjoyable. The woman was very enthusiastic about the ride, so decided to sign up for the trip. The mail boat didn’t depart until 1pm (it was just before noon) so we went across the road for lunch.
After lunch we wandered around the waterfront and found the dock where the mail boat was moored. I saw a yacht broker on the next finger so I wandered over to look at the listings. A wizened old man came out and asked if I wanted to buy all of them. I laughed, and explained that my friend Helena was thinking of picking up a boat in New Zealand and that I was just checking the listings for her. I asked about the boat construction and things like osmosis and the best place to buy boats. He patiently explained construction details and agreed that it wasn’t a good idea to buy a fiberglass boat built prior to 1980 because they were more prone to osmosis. He also confirmed that it was cheaper to buy boats in the smaller ports like Picton because in Auckland you pay city prices. He also explained that in Auckland people preferred lighter boats with huge sails because of the light winds in the region, and that those boats were unsuitable for sailing in the heavier wind in the southern regions. Good to know, I said. We had to board the mail boat so I thanked him, gratefully accepted a business card, and said goodbye.
The mailboat had two hulls and two moters, and was extremely fast. There was a top deck with rows of chairs and on a hot summer day would be fabulous. It wasn’t a hot summer day, however, so Mom and I only stayed up top for 15 minutes before the cold chased us down the stairs to the covered cabin.
View from the top deck:
We met two really nice Australian couples and chatted up a storm for the first part of the trip. We were amazed to see the small docks that the mail boat pulled up to. Ken, the mail man, simply opened a window by his chair and threw the boxes and mail bags up onto the docks. The locals duly threw mail bags back to Ken, who tossed the bags back into the cabin. Four-legged locals were extremely happy to see Ken because they were treated to biscuits. If Ken couldn’t hand a biscuit directly to a dog he put it into tiny blue “mail bags” with the name of the dog sewn into the bag, then tied the blue mail bag to the larger mail bags. The blue mail bag was opened as soon as possible, as you can imagine.
The quick hand-off of a propane tank:
At one homestead a woman handed an oblong parcel through the window. Ken turned to a fellow who had been helping him lift boxes up and said “You take this. I’m not good with these.” He was holding a 7-month-old baby that was tightly swaddled. The fellow was totally shocked and carefully took the baby. Then Ken helped the woman climb through the window and brought her two bags inside. The whole exchange reminded me of the Sunshine Coast where I’ve climbed onto more than one boat via a window.
I got talking to the woman and learned that she was heading to the North Island for her mother’s unveiling. I wasn’t sure what that was so she explained that a year after a Maori person dies the family meets again. I was having trouble hearing her over the engines so missed the rest of the explanation. I wonder if the unveiling involves the erection of a headstone at the cemetary?
We chatted for the rest of the trip. I learned that Rangi had travelled most of New Zealand for work. She worked for a demolition company and operated the big machines that knocked down buildings. Her partner was a builder, so I joked that he put up the buildings and she knocked them down. Her baby, Jaxom, was a happy little guy and kept staring at me and giving me these big grins. She explained that he loved being outdoors and only cried when she brought him into the house. A wise woman had predicted that he would be a strong leader one day, and I could see it – he was such a calm, observant, and happy guy.
Rangi and Jaxom:
We stopped at Ship’s Cove and had 15 minutes to go ashore to a cairn erected to honor Cook’s numerous visits to Marlborough Sound. On the walk to the cairn I noticed a rather large brown bird on the grass. I stopped and slowly pulled my camera out of my bag. I didn’t need to be cautious because the bird bravely walked right up to me, looking for food I assume. I learned later that the bird is called a weka.
Friendly little weka:
Cook cairn:
In Endeavor Inlet we stopped at a lonely wharf to pick up two people who had been hiking the Queen Charlotte Track. Then we went to another wharf to pick up another hiker, but he wasn’t there. We waited for 10 minutes, then Ken used the radio to ask if the hiker was at one of the homesteads. A fellow called back to say that the hiker was at another wharf. Ken grumbled and grudgingly went over to the other wharf. When the hiker got on board Ken asked why he wasn’t at the assigned pick-up location, the hiker shrugged and said he just didn’t want to walk any further. Ken rolled his eyes and turned the mail boat towards Picton, a full 30 minutes behind schedule.
Ken at the wheel, the view locals get:
We dropped Rangi and Jaxom off at the ferry terminal. This time Rangi had to climb the side of the boat then scramble onto the high ferry dock. When she was up on the dock Ken handed up her bags and then Jaxom. We waved goodbye and Ken took us back to the mail boat dock. We departed and happily walked back to the car and drove to the hostel, where we checked in and enjoyed a dinner of fried chicken from a café across the street.
We had an early night and slept well. This morning we will explore Picton a bit, then return the rental car and catch the ferry to Wellington.
12.4.06
7pm Tuesday, April 11, 2006 Nelson
I’m listening to Ella Fitzgerald and trying to remember what the heck has happened that last few days. I blame my lack of memory on the nasty flu/cold that attacked me in Greymouth.
In Christchurch we got up early to catch the bus to the train station. In fact, we were 30 minutes early and that gave us the opportunity to talk to a nice Australian guy who was travelling around New Zealand for a bit before heading to Samoa for a 6-week medical internship. Eventually, two train station shuttles screeched up to the sidewalk and started tossing bags into trailers and people into seats. At one point I looked up to see Mom sitting in the shuttle but wasn’t sure if I would have a seat.
I barged in front of a girl who was sitting on the street next to her luggage. She turned out to be the somewhat ditzy girlfriend of the Australian guy. He had to argue with the bus driver to get her onto the shuttle because she’d waited too long to get her luggage to the trailer and there was no more room. The driver had to unpack the trailer and repack it to get her luggage on board.
Regardless, we all got to the train station safely and on time. Mom innocently jumped the queue to get seat numbers which earned her a few looks. Once armed with seat numbers we dragged our luggage to the last car of the train, where two guys were tossing luggage into the car with joyous abandon.
Our train car, car L, was the third from the front. We had seats in the middle of the car, in front of two elderly gentlemen from Singapore and next to a few folks from Australia. We were all excited about the trip and there were smiles on everyone’s faces when we finally started rolling along the tracks.
The train passed through the backyards of numerous scrungy businesses and homes until we reached Rolleston, when the landscape changed from urban decay to rolling farmland. That was nice, but things really got interesting when the train started climbing into the mountains. We crossed a number of trestle bridges (viaducts) but I couldn’t get a good look at them because the viewing platform behind our car was full of people angling to get a good photograph. The conductor assured us that the bridges were fantastic, so I’ll have to believe him.
We arrived at Arthur’s Pass around 11am. The train stopped briefly to drop off and pick up passengers, and we were allowed to step off the train briefly. It was quite cold, probably around 4C but it felt colder because I was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt and a skirt. Arthur’s Pass was quite a depressing stop, but I couldn’t help thinking it would look absolutely beautiful with a coat of snow on the churned-up ground and on the rooftops of the derelict buildings.
Brrrr! Me at Arthur's Pass in totally inappropriate clothing:
The trip from Arthur’s Pass to Greymouth was quite uneventful. The best of the scenery was behind us, plus we had to keep stopping to call ahead and change tracks due to work on the rail lines. We arrived in Greymouth at 1:30pm, more than 30 minutes later than scheduled.
The platform at Greymouth was crowded with people waiting to get onto the train, and was overflowing with people as soon as people started to disembark. We struggled to the rear of the train to collect our luggage, which was being thrown off the train into throngs of people. It took me close to 20 minutes to find our four pieces of luggage amongst the people and the odd piles of bags left strewn about the platform.
We looked at the town and realized that our hostel was on the side of a hill. I saw a cabbie pull into the train station and waved him down. He explained that he had to drop another couple off but that he would return to pick us up. I stepped inside the train station to look for a map of the town and was shocked when Mom yelled at me because the cabbie was loading our luggage into his cab. I jumped into the cab and he dropped us off at the hostel – grand total, $4.50, but worth every cent.
The hostel was situated in a building that used to be a monastery. The chapel had been converted to a sitting room and lounge. The halls were lined with beautiful dark wood and the doors had handles exactly in the middle, which meant they were about 5 feet from the floor. I felt like a little kid because I had to reach up to the handle.
After we settled in we walked from the hostel into town. It was a Sunday so very few shops were open. (That’s one surprising thing about New Zealand – most shops close at 4pm during the week and hardly any shops are open on Sundays. Even in the big cities you feel like you’re walking through a ghost town on Sundays.) A jade shop was open so we spent some time admiring the jewellery. We also went into the gift shop at the railway station. We bought some food at the grocery store and were walking back to the hostel when it started to rain heavily and the sky lit up with fork lightning, followed a few seconds later by rolling thunder. We had umbrellas but our feet and clothes were still wet when we got back to the hostel.
Greymouth's main street, shut up tight on Sunday:
We had some pasta left over from Rotorua, so we cooked up another batch of spaghetti sauce and boiled the remaining pasta. It was delicious and we thoroughly enjoyed our “home-cooked”meal.
After dinner we went up to our room and I put my Amelie DVD into my laptop. Mom was enjoying it but I was starting to feel quite hot and stuffy-headed. Eventually I asked if we could stop the movie (just before the ending, too) so I could go to sleep. Mom knew something was up and I told her I wasn’t feeling well. She went into full Mom-mode and insisted that I take some Tylenol Flu. I did, then passed out.
In the morning I felt awful, but with Mom’s encouragement I managed to get up at 8am to have some coffee and to collect our rental car. They’d told us over the phone that we’d have to drive a larger sedan but when we got to the rental car agency they had a small Toyota Carolla for us, the same make and model we’d driven around the North Island. The only problem was that someone had left the window open over night and half of the back seat was soaked with rain water. We took the car anyway, thinking that the water would evaporate shortly. It did, but it left behind a foul odor similar to that of spoiled cream.
It was raining when we left Greymouth, but we stopped at the side of the road a few times and got out to admire the crashing surf. It was unlike anything we’d seen in New Zealand and we were marvelling at the height and ferocity of the waves. Thinking that we’d seen the best of the coast, we got back into the car and were making good time when we saw a bunch of cars parked at the side of the road and a collection of cafes. We pulled over and discovered that we were at the entrance to the Te Papa Atawhai Pancake Rocks and Blowholes park.
The wild coast north of Greymouth:
We walked down the path and were astounded by the layered pancake rocks. That was just the beginning, though – the raging surf had cut into the rocks and created holes. When the surf crashed into the rocks some of the water was forced up through the holes. The sound was amazing and we were covered in fine sea spray from the spurting water. We spent close to 45 minutes in the park and were almost reluctant to leave.
Pancake rocks:
Blowholes:
The non-wheelchair accessible track around the park:
View of the coast from the park:
The rest of the drive to Nelson was quite boring. We found our way into the city center and to the trust information center. There was a huge lineup so I found a free map and a hostel brochure and navigated to the hostel without asking for help. We booked in and then walked around the area, then bought a few groceries and returned to the hostel. We had left-over spaghetti for dinner and were in bed by 8pm.
Mom slept fitfully but I was drugged to the gills and slept soundly until 6am. We got up and showered, had a bit of breakfast, then drove to Kaiteriteri for a half-day cruise along the coast of the Abel Tasman park.
Most of the people on the boat wanted to hike in the park, so they were ferried from the boat to shore by Zodiac at specific beaches. Mom and I – as well as six other oldies – stayed on board the whole trip and looked on somewhat enviously as hikers returned to the boat, flush with stories about the great hiking.
Split apple rock along the Abel Tasman Park coastline:
Soaking up the sun and wind on the ferry:
We got back to Kaiteriteri around 3:30pm and drove back to Nelson, confidently navigating the roundabouts and rush-hour traffic and parking next to the hostel as if we were locals. We hadn’t had lunch and were quite hungry so we walked around until we found a place with an interesting menu. The Victorian Rose Bar was situated in the oldest building in Nelson and in the past the building that housed an insurance company, the city council and so on. It was lovely and we settled in to a fantastic meal. Mom had lamb and a crisp green salad while I had chicken with salad and a small but satisfying pile of French fries.
Tomorrow we’re off to Picton. Not sure what we’ll do. Perhaps we’ll walk along the Queen Charlotte Track. Perhaps we’ll go on a mailboat tour. More on that later.
In Christchurch we got up early to catch the bus to the train station. In fact, we were 30 minutes early and that gave us the opportunity to talk to a nice Australian guy who was travelling around New Zealand for a bit before heading to Samoa for a 6-week medical internship. Eventually, two train station shuttles screeched up to the sidewalk and started tossing bags into trailers and people into seats. At one point I looked up to see Mom sitting in the shuttle but wasn’t sure if I would have a seat.
I barged in front of a girl who was sitting on the street next to her luggage. She turned out to be the somewhat ditzy girlfriend of the Australian guy. He had to argue with the bus driver to get her onto the shuttle because she’d waited too long to get her luggage to the trailer and there was no more room. The driver had to unpack the trailer and repack it to get her luggage on board.
Regardless, we all got to the train station safely and on time. Mom innocently jumped the queue to get seat numbers which earned her a few looks. Once armed with seat numbers we dragged our luggage to the last car of the train, where two guys were tossing luggage into the car with joyous abandon.
Our train car, car L, was the third from the front. We had seats in the middle of the car, in front of two elderly gentlemen from Singapore and next to a few folks from Australia. We were all excited about the trip and there were smiles on everyone’s faces when we finally started rolling along the tracks.
The train passed through the backyards of numerous scrungy businesses and homes until we reached Rolleston, when the landscape changed from urban decay to rolling farmland. That was nice, but things really got interesting when the train started climbing into the mountains. We crossed a number of trestle bridges (viaducts) but I couldn’t get a good look at them because the viewing platform behind our car was full of people angling to get a good photograph. The conductor assured us that the bridges were fantastic, so I’ll have to believe him.
We arrived at Arthur’s Pass around 11am. The train stopped briefly to drop off and pick up passengers, and we were allowed to step off the train briefly. It was quite cold, probably around 4C but it felt colder because I was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt and a skirt. Arthur’s Pass was quite a depressing stop, but I couldn’t help thinking it would look absolutely beautiful with a coat of snow on the churned-up ground and on the rooftops of the derelict buildings.
Brrrr! Me at Arthur's Pass in totally inappropriate clothing:
The trip from Arthur’s Pass to Greymouth was quite uneventful. The best of the scenery was behind us, plus we had to keep stopping to call ahead and change tracks due to work on the rail lines. We arrived in Greymouth at 1:30pm, more than 30 minutes later than scheduled.
The platform at Greymouth was crowded with people waiting to get onto the train, and was overflowing with people as soon as people started to disembark. We struggled to the rear of the train to collect our luggage, which was being thrown off the train into throngs of people. It took me close to 20 minutes to find our four pieces of luggage amongst the people and the odd piles of bags left strewn about the platform.
We looked at the town and realized that our hostel was on the side of a hill. I saw a cabbie pull into the train station and waved him down. He explained that he had to drop another couple off but that he would return to pick us up. I stepped inside the train station to look for a map of the town and was shocked when Mom yelled at me because the cabbie was loading our luggage into his cab. I jumped into the cab and he dropped us off at the hostel – grand total, $4.50, but worth every cent.
The hostel was situated in a building that used to be a monastery. The chapel had been converted to a sitting room and lounge. The halls were lined with beautiful dark wood and the doors had handles exactly in the middle, which meant they were about 5 feet from the floor. I felt like a little kid because I had to reach up to the handle.
After we settled in we walked from the hostel into town. It was a Sunday so very few shops were open. (That’s one surprising thing about New Zealand – most shops close at 4pm during the week and hardly any shops are open on Sundays. Even in the big cities you feel like you’re walking through a ghost town on Sundays.) A jade shop was open so we spent some time admiring the jewellery. We also went into the gift shop at the railway station. We bought some food at the grocery store and were walking back to the hostel when it started to rain heavily and the sky lit up with fork lightning, followed a few seconds later by rolling thunder. We had umbrellas but our feet and clothes were still wet when we got back to the hostel.
Greymouth's main street, shut up tight on Sunday:
We had some pasta left over from Rotorua, so we cooked up another batch of spaghetti sauce and boiled the remaining pasta. It was delicious and we thoroughly enjoyed our “home-cooked”meal.
After dinner we went up to our room and I put my Amelie DVD into my laptop. Mom was enjoying it but I was starting to feel quite hot and stuffy-headed. Eventually I asked if we could stop the movie (just before the ending, too) so I could go to sleep. Mom knew something was up and I told her I wasn’t feeling well. She went into full Mom-mode and insisted that I take some Tylenol Flu. I did, then passed out.
In the morning I felt awful, but with Mom’s encouragement I managed to get up at 8am to have some coffee and to collect our rental car. They’d told us over the phone that we’d have to drive a larger sedan but when we got to the rental car agency they had a small Toyota Carolla for us, the same make and model we’d driven around the North Island. The only problem was that someone had left the window open over night and half of the back seat was soaked with rain water. We took the car anyway, thinking that the water would evaporate shortly. It did, but it left behind a foul odor similar to that of spoiled cream.
It was raining when we left Greymouth, but we stopped at the side of the road a few times and got out to admire the crashing surf. It was unlike anything we’d seen in New Zealand and we were marvelling at the height and ferocity of the waves. Thinking that we’d seen the best of the coast, we got back into the car and were making good time when we saw a bunch of cars parked at the side of the road and a collection of cafes. We pulled over and discovered that we were at the entrance to the Te Papa Atawhai Pancake Rocks and Blowholes park.
The wild coast north of Greymouth:
We walked down the path and were astounded by the layered pancake rocks. That was just the beginning, though – the raging surf had cut into the rocks and created holes. When the surf crashed into the rocks some of the water was forced up through the holes. The sound was amazing and we were covered in fine sea spray from the spurting water. We spent close to 45 minutes in the park and were almost reluctant to leave.
Pancake rocks:
Blowholes:
The non-wheelchair accessible track around the park:
View of the coast from the park:
The rest of the drive to Nelson was quite boring. We found our way into the city center and to the trust information center. There was a huge lineup so I found a free map and a hostel brochure and navigated to the hostel without asking for help. We booked in and then walked around the area, then bought a few groceries and returned to the hostel. We had left-over spaghetti for dinner and were in bed by 8pm.
Mom slept fitfully but I was drugged to the gills and slept soundly until 6am. We got up and showered, had a bit of breakfast, then drove to Kaiteriteri for a half-day cruise along the coast of the Abel Tasman park.
Most of the people on the boat wanted to hike in the park, so they were ferried from the boat to shore by Zodiac at specific beaches. Mom and I – as well as six other oldies – stayed on board the whole trip and looked on somewhat enviously as hikers returned to the boat, flush with stories about the great hiking.
Split apple rock along the Abel Tasman Park coastline:
Soaking up the sun and wind on the ferry:
We got back to Kaiteriteri around 3:30pm and drove back to Nelson, confidently navigating the roundabouts and rush-hour traffic and parking next to the hostel as if we were locals. We hadn’t had lunch and were quite hungry so we walked around until we found a place with an interesting menu. The Victorian Rose Bar was situated in the oldest building in Nelson and in the past the building that housed an insurance company, the city council and so on. It was lovely and we settled in to a fantastic meal. Mom had lamb and a crisp green salad while I had chicken with salad and a small but satisfying pile of French fries.
Tomorrow we’re off to Picton. Not sure what we’ll do. Perhaps we’ll walk along the Queen Charlotte Track. Perhaps we’ll go on a mailboat tour. More on that later.
7pm Saturday, April 8, 2006 Christchurch
Mom was up at 5am, ready to go. Unfortunately she had to wait until 7am for my alarm to go off before she could start her day. My alarm didn’t go off immediately so she leaned over me (I was lying on my back) and said in a normal voice “Rena, it’s 7am.” I nearly climbed the wall because I woke up so suddenly, and to a person looking right into my face. Eeek!
We had coffee at the hostel then drove to the airport. We were about 2.5 hours early but Mom really wanted to get going. So, we got up and went. Then, we waited. The young fellow who had checked us in told Mom that we would be boarding the plane at 9:45am. A plane boarded at 9:45am but it had a different flight number and gate. Mom was sure it was our plane and started to worry that we’d miss our plane so I encouraged her to go and ask an Air New Zealand representative. She came back and informed me that it wasn’t our plane.
The flight from Napier to Wellington took 45 minutes. We arrived just before noon so the first order of business was to find a place to eat. We ended up buying sandwiches at a coffee shop called Fuel and eating our lunch in the hall outside Gate 10.
The flight from Wellington to Christchurch was on a huge Boeing 737. I was marvelling at the number of people travelling on the plane when I realized it was Saturday and people were probably visiting or going on a short weekend getaway.
After we collected our luggage in Christchurch we caught a shuttle to the hostel, where – sigh – I learned that our room was on the second floor. No elevators, just two flights of stairs. So, I sucked it up and carried our two large cases (70 pounds each) up to the room. Then I went downstairs and carried our two small cases (15 pounds each) up to the room. Mom carried my laptop and her backpack.
We left the hostel immediately and walked to Cathedral Square. There was a big celebration of Buddha’s Light Day in the square. There was a giant Buddha statue surrounded by bowls of sand in which devout Buddhists could light sticks of incense. There were other tables set up with bowls of water, but I wasn’t sure how those would be used.
Buddha's Light Day banners and Buddha statue:
There was also a stage where people were performing to ear-splittingly loud music. Next to the stage were a row of tables for the distribution of educational materials. Directly opposite was a long row of cooking tents where people were enjoying a variety of vegetarian dishes.
Toward the back corner of the square was a small collection of hawker’s tents. I was drawn to the tents in which people were selling jewellery. In one tent I was considering buying a ring when the hawker asked about the fish hook necklace I was wearing. I told him that I bought it in Rotorua from a Maori-run artists collective. He told me there was a Maori artist a couple of blocks down the road who had good work. We thanked him and hared off in that direction.
We thought we had missed the shop because we had walked about four blocks and not seen a single store selling jewellery. We agreed that we were going to cross the road to the Art Gallery then turn around and head back to Cathedral Square. I noticed that there was a smaller group of hawkers set up at the Art Gallery. Then I noticed a sign that said “Maori Art and Jewellery”. Bingo!
We walked down a series of twisty hallways, past a lawyer’s office, an architect’s office, and an Internet café. The store was the located at the end of the hall in a small room, which in all honesty was smaller than most people’s bathrooms. There were two other people there so we walked around them, admiring the work on the walls and on a few small tables.
I immediately noticed a fish hook necklace made of wood and bone, with waxed cotton whipping at the join between the wood and bone and at the eye of the hook. It was awesome, and it was only $45!
After the other people left the woman behind the counter greeted us warmly and asked where we were from. We didn’t stop talking for another 20 minutes. Fina explained that she collected the bone from the butcher, boiled it to clean off the meat and sinew, removed the marrow, and bleached the bone to make it white. Then she explained that she used a butcher’s band saw to cut leg bones in half so she could use each half for a different piece.
Me and Fina:
More importantly, she explained that it was important to start and finish each piece in a day. Maori artists don’t like to leave work unfinished and will work long hours to finish their work in a day. Fina also mentioned that, traditionally, Maori men did all of the carving but she and many other women had started carving in recent years. Women still can’t carve waka (canoes) but there is increasing acceptance of women carving tikis, fish hooks, and other art works.
We talked about a lot of other things, but eventually said goodbye. I asked the shop address so I could send her some examples of west coast First Nations art. I also promised to send a photo of Fina and I that Mom took.
After visiting with Fina we walked back toward Cathedral Square. I noticed a sign “Punting on the Avon”, something I’d hoped to do while in Christchurch. Unfortunately there was a long line-up and the day was almost over. Instead, we chose to take a ride on the restored tramway. It was quite pleasant and I really enjoyed the architecture along the route.
The Avon River:
The tram:
Actually, I’m enjoying the architecture in Christchurch more than that architecture in Napier. I’m just not a big Art Deco fan, I guess. I much prefer old brick buildings from the late 1800s, like the ones in Christchurch.
After the tram ride we walked back toward the hostel and had a magnificent dinner at a Thai restaurant located a block away from the hostel. Mom was a bit concerned because no one was in the restaurant when we entered, but was soon reassured by the huge number of people coming by to pick up food that they had ordered over the phone. We had spring rolls, pad thai and a yummy red curry.
During dinner I noticed a whole crowd of teenagers gathering across the street. They couldn’t be any older than 16 and it looked like they were lining up to get into a bar. I was starting to wonder about the drinking age in New Zealand when they all dashed up the alley. I still have no idea what they were waiting for.
Just having a quiet night in because we have to depart at 7:15am to catch the train across the Southern Alps to Greymouth. I love trains, and I especially love trains that travel over trestle bridges, through tunnels, and across stunning landscapes. It should be a good day tomorrow!
We had coffee at the hostel then drove to the airport. We were about 2.5 hours early but Mom really wanted to get going. So, we got up and went. Then, we waited. The young fellow who had checked us in told Mom that we would be boarding the plane at 9:45am. A plane boarded at 9:45am but it had a different flight number and gate. Mom was sure it was our plane and started to worry that we’d miss our plane so I encouraged her to go and ask an Air New Zealand representative. She came back and informed me that it wasn’t our plane.
The flight from Napier to Wellington took 45 minutes. We arrived just before noon so the first order of business was to find a place to eat. We ended up buying sandwiches at a coffee shop called Fuel and eating our lunch in the hall outside Gate 10.
The flight from Wellington to Christchurch was on a huge Boeing 737. I was marvelling at the number of people travelling on the plane when I realized it was Saturday and people were probably visiting or going on a short weekend getaway.
After we collected our luggage in Christchurch we caught a shuttle to the hostel, where – sigh – I learned that our room was on the second floor. No elevators, just two flights of stairs. So, I sucked it up and carried our two large cases (70 pounds each) up to the room. Then I went downstairs and carried our two small cases (15 pounds each) up to the room. Mom carried my laptop and her backpack.
We left the hostel immediately and walked to Cathedral Square. There was a big celebration of Buddha’s Light Day in the square. There was a giant Buddha statue surrounded by bowls of sand in which devout Buddhists could light sticks of incense. There were other tables set up with bowls of water, but I wasn’t sure how those would be used.
Buddha's Light Day banners and Buddha statue:
There was also a stage where people were performing to ear-splittingly loud music. Next to the stage were a row of tables for the distribution of educational materials. Directly opposite was a long row of cooking tents where people were enjoying a variety of vegetarian dishes.
Toward the back corner of the square was a small collection of hawker’s tents. I was drawn to the tents in which people were selling jewellery. In one tent I was considering buying a ring when the hawker asked about the fish hook necklace I was wearing. I told him that I bought it in Rotorua from a Maori-run artists collective. He told me there was a Maori artist a couple of blocks down the road who had good work. We thanked him and hared off in that direction.
We thought we had missed the shop because we had walked about four blocks and not seen a single store selling jewellery. We agreed that we were going to cross the road to the Art Gallery then turn around and head back to Cathedral Square. I noticed that there was a smaller group of hawkers set up at the Art Gallery. Then I noticed a sign that said “Maori Art and Jewellery”. Bingo!
We walked down a series of twisty hallways, past a lawyer’s office, an architect’s office, and an Internet café. The store was the located at the end of the hall in a small room, which in all honesty was smaller than most people’s bathrooms. There were two other people there so we walked around them, admiring the work on the walls and on a few small tables.
I immediately noticed a fish hook necklace made of wood and bone, with waxed cotton whipping at the join between the wood and bone and at the eye of the hook. It was awesome, and it was only $45!
After the other people left the woman behind the counter greeted us warmly and asked where we were from. We didn’t stop talking for another 20 minutes. Fina explained that she collected the bone from the butcher, boiled it to clean off the meat and sinew, removed the marrow, and bleached the bone to make it white. Then she explained that she used a butcher’s band saw to cut leg bones in half so she could use each half for a different piece.
Me and Fina:
More importantly, she explained that it was important to start and finish each piece in a day. Maori artists don’t like to leave work unfinished and will work long hours to finish their work in a day. Fina also mentioned that, traditionally, Maori men did all of the carving but she and many other women had started carving in recent years. Women still can’t carve waka (canoes) but there is increasing acceptance of women carving tikis, fish hooks, and other art works.
We talked about a lot of other things, but eventually said goodbye. I asked the shop address so I could send her some examples of west coast First Nations art. I also promised to send a photo of Fina and I that Mom took.
After visiting with Fina we walked back toward Cathedral Square. I noticed a sign “Punting on the Avon”, something I’d hoped to do while in Christchurch. Unfortunately there was a long line-up and the day was almost over. Instead, we chose to take a ride on the restored tramway. It was quite pleasant and I really enjoyed the architecture along the route.
The Avon River:
The tram:
Actually, I’m enjoying the architecture in Christchurch more than that architecture in Napier. I’m just not a big Art Deco fan, I guess. I much prefer old brick buildings from the late 1800s, like the ones in Christchurch.
After the tram ride we walked back toward the hostel and had a magnificent dinner at a Thai restaurant located a block away from the hostel. Mom was a bit concerned because no one was in the restaurant when we entered, but was soon reassured by the huge number of people coming by to pick up food that they had ordered over the phone. We had spring rolls, pad thai and a yummy red curry.
During dinner I noticed a whole crowd of teenagers gathering across the street. They couldn’t be any older than 16 and it looked like they were lining up to get into a bar. I was starting to wonder about the drinking age in New Zealand when they all dashed up the alley. I still have no idea what they were waiting for.
Just having a quiet night in because we have to depart at 7:15am to catch the train across the Southern Alps to Greymouth. I love trains, and I especially love trains that travel over trestle bridges, through tunnels, and across stunning landscapes. It should be a good day tomorrow!
8pm Friday, April 7, 2006 Napier
Dinner with Stew was lovely. We went to an Indian restaurant and had pakoras to start, then a nice white fish cooked Tandoori style, followed by rogan josh, shahi paneer, and basmati for three people. The pakoras were nothing like those you would get in Vancouver or Victoria. They were bits of potato covered in flour batter and deep fried. Still, they filled the spot and they were served with a tasty sauce.
We were all tired after dinner so Stew dropped us off at the motel and departed for home, a bach on a surf beach. Mom and I fell into bed and slept like logs. (Well, Mom woke up a couple of times and enjoyed listening to the waves crashing onto the beach.)
This morning we woke early and were in town at 8:45am, expecting the Internet café to open at 9am. No luck – it didn’t open until 10am. So, we went to McD’s for breakfast, where Mom enjoyed a good feed of waffles. We walked around Gladstone Steet (the main drag) for a bit until the Internet café opened, then got down to business at the computer.
On the way to Gisborne Mom had the radical idea of delaying our departure by a week so we could enjoy the South Island. We contacted our travel agent in Victoria, who quickly replied and explained that we had to call Singapore Airlines ourselves to change our tickets. So, after I finished updating my blog we walked down the street to a pay phone and I called Singapore Airlines.
The woman who answered at Singapore Airlines was quite helpful, and explained that because of the school holidays most of the flights were booked. We could get a later flight from Auckland to Singapore and from Singapore to Incheon, but the leg from Incheon to Vancouver was completely booked. We then inquired about upgrading to business class, but she explained that she would have to contact the Vancouver office for pricing. We agreed to call again on Monday for more information.
We departed Gisborne around noon, and optimistically expected to arrive in Napier around 2pm. Unfortunately, I didn’t count on the twistiness of the roads or the hills. I also forgot to fill up the car with petrol, and was a bit taken aback when the dashboard lit up with a wee gas pump to indicate that the car was dangerously low on petrol. I stopped at the next town to inquire about the availability of petrol and the lady at the café counter gave me a look of great disappointment. There was nothing until Napier. We were turning out the door with the idea of asking a local farmer if he had any petrol stores when she said that the next town, Tutira, had a pump but they charged an exorbitant amount per liter.
That was fine, I said. We drove on for another 20 minutes. Tutira consisted of a dairy with a petrol pump. That was all we needed to be happy! I put $10 into the car, just enough to get us to Napier. We left immediately because they didn’t have a public washroom and I dearly needed to relieve myself.
We stopped at a BP station on the outskirts of Napier to fill up on reasonably-priced petrol (a measly $1.56/liter) and a much-needed bathroom stop! I checked the map before we left the BP station and decided to take highway 50 into town. It took us through the port and the industrial area of town but was extremely easy to drive. We found the Napier information site with no problems, booked our hostel, and bought a map so we could go on a self-guided tour of Napier’s world-famous Art Deco buildings.
We spent about 2 hours walking around Napier admiring the buildings, then decided to stop for dinner. We found ourselves at Jo Miguel’s Tapas Restaurant. The staff were decidedly un-Spanish but the food was excellent. They even brought over the guest book for us to sign! I looked through and found several visitors from Ottawa and Toronto, the odd person from BC, a hardy soul from the Northwest Territories, and one lone Newfoundlander.
Tonight we’re staying at the Napier YHA. It’s perhaps the best YHA we’ve stayed at so far, although both of us are afraid of falling down the stairs on the way to the bathroom. Let’s just say that it’s a relief to stay here after the disaster at Rotorua.
Tomorrow morning we fly to Christchurch on the South Island. We’ll leave Sunday to take the train over the Southern Alps and through Arthur’s Pass to Greymouth. We’re not sure what we’ll do from there. We have to call Singapore Airlines to find out if we can catch that flight home on the 26th. If not, we’ll probably rent a car and drive north to Nelson and Picton, and visit Stew’s Mom in Blenheim before heading over to Wellington on the ferry.
We were all tired after dinner so Stew dropped us off at the motel and departed for home, a bach on a surf beach. Mom and I fell into bed and slept like logs. (Well, Mom woke up a couple of times and enjoyed listening to the waves crashing onto the beach.)
This morning we woke early and were in town at 8:45am, expecting the Internet café to open at 9am. No luck – it didn’t open until 10am. So, we went to McD’s for breakfast, where Mom enjoyed a good feed of waffles. We walked around Gladstone Steet (the main drag) for a bit until the Internet café opened, then got down to business at the computer.
On the way to Gisborne Mom had the radical idea of delaying our departure by a week so we could enjoy the South Island. We contacted our travel agent in Victoria, who quickly replied and explained that we had to call Singapore Airlines ourselves to change our tickets. So, after I finished updating my blog we walked down the street to a pay phone and I called Singapore Airlines.
The woman who answered at Singapore Airlines was quite helpful, and explained that because of the school holidays most of the flights were booked. We could get a later flight from Auckland to Singapore and from Singapore to Incheon, but the leg from Incheon to Vancouver was completely booked. We then inquired about upgrading to business class, but she explained that she would have to contact the Vancouver office for pricing. We agreed to call again on Monday for more information.
We departed Gisborne around noon, and optimistically expected to arrive in Napier around 2pm. Unfortunately, I didn’t count on the twistiness of the roads or the hills. I also forgot to fill up the car with petrol, and was a bit taken aback when the dashboard lit up with a wee gas pump to indicate that the car was dangerously low on petrol. I stopped at the next town to inquire about the availability of petrol and the lady at the café counter gave me a look of great disappointment. There was nothing until Napier. We were turning out the door with the idea of asking a local farmer if he had any petrol stores when she said that the next town, Tutira, had a pump but they charged an exorbitant amount per liter.
That was fine, I said. We drove on for another 20 minutes. Tutira consisted of a dairy with a petrol pump. That was all we needed to be happy! I put $10 into the car, just enough to get us to Napier. We left immediately because they didn’t have a public washroom and I dearly needed to relieve myself.
We stopped at a BP station on the outskirts of Napier to fill up on reasonably-priced petrol (a measly $1.56/liter) and a much-needed bathroom stop! I checked the map before we left the BP station and decided to take highway 50 into town. It took us through the port and the industrial area of town but was extremely easy to drive. We found the Napier information site with no problems, booked our hostel, and bought a map so we could go on a self-guided tour of Napier’s world-famous Art Deco buildings.
We spent about 2 hours walking around Napier admiring the buildings, then decided to stop for dinner. We found ourselves at Jo Miguel’s Tapas Restaurant. The staff were decidedly un-Spanish but the food was excellent. They even brought over the guest book for us to sign! I looked through and found several visitors from Ottawa and Toronto, the odd person from BC, a hardy soul from the Northwest Territories, and one lone Newfoundlander.
Tonight we’re staying at the Napier YHA. It’s perhaps the best YHA we’ve stayed at so far, although both of us are afraid of falling down the stairs on the way to the bathroom. Let’s just say that it’s a relief to stay here after the disaster at Rotorua.
Tomorrow morning we fly to Christchurch on the South Island. We’ll leave Sunday to take the train over the Southern Alps and through Arthur’s Pass to Greymouth. We’re not sure what we’ll do from there. We have to call Singapore Airlines to find out if we can catch that flight home on the 26th. If not, we’ll probably rent a car and drive north to Nelson and Picton, and visit Stew’s Mom in Blenheim before heading over to Wellington on the ferry.
7.4.06
1pm Thursday, April 6, 2006 Gisborne
The drive from Rotorua to Whakatane was okay, but from there we turned onto highway 35 which took us east along the Bay of Plenty. The roads were narrow and often twisted devilishly along the mountainside with narry a barrier between the road and the steep cliffs. We stopped at Hick’s Bay around 4pm for ice cream and to use the phone. I called Bill and Jan’s to say we were running late, and Jan said that was no problem. She advised us to stop at the church in Tikitiki before heading on down past Ruatoria to where they live in the village of Tokomaru Bay.
The drive from Hick’s Bay to Tikitiki wasn’t too bad. We passed the church and had to turn around and head back to it. From the outside it looked like any other church, with the siding painted beige and the roof a nice green tile. We walked around the church, not quite sure if it was open to the public. At the front were two sets of double doors. Mom tried one of the doors and it was open, so we went inside.
The church at Tikitiki:
The inside of the churce was entirely Maori. The pews had Maori carvings on the ends, the pulpit had traditional flax weavings and wood carvings, and even the piano was placed underneath two arms of carvings. The best thing in the church were the cushions. I’m not sure if each family provided their own cushions for the pews, but there were a multitude of hand-made cushions on the pews. Some were quite crudely constructed while others were beautifully stitched.
From Tikitiki the road deteriorated. There were numerous washouts from the previous year that were still waiting to be fixed. The best thing about roads in New Zealand, however, is that there are signs to alert you to every obstacle and road condition. Also, there are signs to indicate a reasonable speed around the obstacles or across the road. Unlike Canada, where a 30 km/h corner can be taken at 60 km/h, in New Zealand if the sign advises you to drive at 30 km/h, that’s because you really need to drive at 30 km/h. And, as soon as you’ve passed through the 30 km/h zone you can resume the usual 100 km/h speed along crazy, twisty country roads.
The other interesting thing about the road from Tikitiki to Tokomaru Bay is that we saw a lot of birds and livestock. By that, I mean that at one point I nearly ran over a hawk that was eating a newly-killed opossum in the middle of the road. I also had to dodge numerous magpies and the occassional pheasant. Just when I was starting to get tired I nearly drove into two pigs that had escaped the farm and gone walkabout. There were also a few sheep on the road, and a herd of cows being transferred to a new paddock.
We arrived in Tokomaru Bay and stopped at the 4 Square to buy sweets for the kids and a couple of bottles of wine for dinner. We arrived at their house around 6pm and were greeted with hugs, which we fouled up by extending our hands for a handshake. This confused the kids to no end. We were invited inside where we were invited to talk about our travels until tea was served. There wasn’t enough room at the table for everyone so the adults sat at the table and the kids sat on the floor (Bill and Jan have six kids). The owner of the 4 Square, Bruce, also joined us for tea.
After dinner Bill and Jan arranged a game called Rat in which six different sweets were arranged on a plate. One person was sent out of the room while everyone else chose a sweet, which became the Rat. The person was then invited back into the room and had to choose one sweet at a time. If it wasn’t the Rat they could keep the sweet. If it was the Rat they could keep any sweets that they had already, but forfeited any further chances to choose sweets. The sweets were stocked up again and the process of choosing the Rat started again.
We talked a bit about Maori culture after dinner but felt a bit uncomfortable because Bill and Bruce disparaged the Tamaki Maori Village tour and hangi that we enjoyed so much in Rotorua. Perhaps ‘disparaged’ is too strong a word. They called it the “plastic Maori” experience. I pushed on, however, asking about economic development and other issues. Bill deferred to Bruce, who filled us in on local business and non-business.
The kids had gone to bed earlier, but the adults went to bed around 9pm. Mom and I were sleeping in the boys’ room. Mom had a twin bed and I had the lower bunk bed. We slept heavily and didn’t wake until well after 8am. The kids were already up and enjoying a healthy breakfast of muesli, yoghurt, and milk as well as hot porridge.
After breakfast we walked to the lower paddock where the kids fed the pigs and collected eggs from the chicken coop. We walked through some gates to the neighbour’s land (Papa Shorty) and walked up a steep hill until we had a full view of Tokomaru Bay. It was absolutely beautiful. On the way down the hill the kids found horse mushrooms and watercress. They collected them for tea, and Mom and I marvelled at how knowledgeable the kids were about the land.
Buela with eggs in her hat:
Joshua climbing over the fence:
Isaac climbing over the fence:
Grace in her sunhat:
Jan and Beula:
Israel at the peak of the hill:
Didi with mushrooms:
I mentioned that it would be a lovely day to swim and asked if the kids could come for a swim. (Jan home-school’s the kids.) She said that would be fine so the kids changed into their wet suits and Mom and I changed into our swim suits. The first beach that we tried had a strong rip tide so we drove past town to another beach. There were big waves at the beach that felt like they would pull you out to sea, but they didn’t. The kids pulled out their boogie boards and swam out into the ocean to catch the waves. I went out with them and thoroughly enjoyed floating about in the warm Pacific Ocean.
Beula in her wet suit:
Mom and her shells:
Isaac and Joshua looking for the next big wave:
Mom and Jan stayed on the beach. I tried to encourage Mom to go into the water but there was something about the pull of the waves and the shelfs of sand that made her feel unsteady on her feet. Instead, she walked up and down the beach collecting beautiful sea shells.
We packed up and headed back to the house around 1pm so the youngest, Beula, could have a nap. Mom and I each had a shower. Beula wouldn’t go to sleep, perhaps because there were exciting visitors in the house, so we left and drove to Ruatoria.
We bought ice cream at the Ruatoria 4 Square, then walked down to Hughie Hughes Electronics. Jan had encouraged us to stop in there and say hello, because Hughie is Bill’s father. Hughie was on the phone when we arrived, but when he got off the phone we explained who we were and he showed us around the store then took us on an “official” tour of Ruatoria.
Hughie showed us the ambulance station, the police station, the old post office, a closed school, where he and his wife raised their four kids, and the local rugby pitch. From there he drove on a “metal” (gravel) road to an old marae on the ocean. It was just past the farm of Sir Apirana Ngata, now occupied by his daughter and grandsons. Hughie used to take his wife and kids to the beach by the marae in the evenings for dinner and a swim. The marae was closed (Hughie was kicking himself about that, because he could have asked a couple of people to give him the key to the marae, including Sir Ngata’s daughter) so we just looked through the windows.
What surprised me were the piles of foam mattresses and bedding. Hughie explained that when the marae was used for important occassions it wasn’t uncommon to have 40 people sleeping in the marae. The bedding was just piled up in a corner until the next big event.
We walked around the cemetary behind the marae as well. Hughie said he’d like to be buried there, and half-joked that the next time we visited New Zealand he’d have to entertain us there.
Back in town we said our goodbye’s, then drove back to Bill and Jan’s. We had a delicious beef curry for dinner, then looked at a slideshow of photos that I’d taken of the kids earlier in the day. We also looked at a few movies I’d taken of the kids boogie-boarding on the beach.
We had another satisfying sleep, waking up a bit earlier this morning so we could say goodbye to Bill before he went off to work. Just after breakfast Isaac presented us with a flax basket that he’d just woven. The flax was still green but he explained that as the flax dried it would turn a wonderful bone color.
I remembered that I had some gifts in my suitcase (still in the car) so I dashed out and dug them out. I gave Jan a carved necklace of BC jade and Bill a keychain with a casting of the raven. I gave the whole family a museum-replica bowl with coastal native designs.
Jan wanted to show us their B&B before we left so she loaded the kids into the car and we all drove to the B&B, just off the highway. The guests were still there but said it was okay for us to come in. It was absolutely stunning. It had been the post office and bank for close to 100 years and had an old vault, a telegraph room, as well as a sheltered outdoor room where people could collect mail from their post boxes. They’d stripped layers of paint from every wall and surface, renovated the staff room so it could be used as a kitchen, updated the water supply to support a modern bathroom, and generally renovated the building so it was now a gorgeous Martha Stewart-type B&B. Jan was quite humble about the B&B but both Mom and I were astounded at the beauty of the building, the renovations, and the decorations. You could tell that the whole family had put a lot of heart and soul into making it a beautiful place.
We said goodbye to Jan and the kids at the B&B and travelled south towards Gisborne. I had told Jan that I wanted to stop at Whangara, the village where the movie Whale Rider had been filmed. She explained that there were no road signs pointing to Whangara. She told me to look for a particular sheep station and then a road with a sign that said “school”. I saw the sheep station and turned left when I saw the school sign. We drove down, around, up, down, around, and finally down again to a beautiful bay.
There were no signs to say that we had arrived in Whangara but I knew we’d come to the right place as soon as I saw the marae with Paikia on the peak. The marae had been altered for the movie, obviously. The central posts in the movie were ornately carved but in the actual marae were plain posts with figures in front. There was carpeting around the edges of the marae floor and in the movie the floors were all wood. Still, it was so similar to the movie that I felt goosebumps.
We walked down to the beach and saw a small boat out fishing. We walked through the shallow surf to the right, seeing a vast expanse of beach extending further south. We took several pictures then returned to our car and reluctantly left Whangara.
We found the information center in Gisborne and decided to stay at a motel instead of the hostel. We settled in at a motel on the beach and put on two loads of laundry. Tonight we’ll meet up with Stew Wylds, a New Zealander that we met in Victoria when he was there working on his master’s degree.
Tomorrow we’re off to Napier!!
The drive from Hick’s Bay to Tikitiki wasn’t too bad. We passed the church and had to turn around and head back to it. From the outside it looked like any other church, with the siding painted beige and the roof a nice green tile. We walked around the church, not quite sure if it was open to the public. At the front were two sets of double doors. Mom tried one of the doors and it was open, so we went inside.
The church at Tikitiki:
The inside of the churce was entirely Maori. The pews had Maori carvings on the ends, the pulpit had traditional flax weavings and wood carvings, and even the piano was placed underneath two arms of carvings. The best thing in the church were the cushions. I’m not sure if each family provided their own cushions for the pews, but there were a multitude of hand-made cushions on the pews. Some were quite crudely constructed while others were beautifully stitched.
From Tikitiki the road deteriorated. There were numerous washouts from the previous year that were still waiting to be fixed. The best thing about roads in New Zealand, however, is that there are signs to alert you to every obstacle and road condition. Also, there are signs to indicate a reasonable speed around the obstacles or across the road. Unlike Canada, where a 30 km/h corner can be taken at 60 km/h, in New Zealand if the sign advises you to drive at 30 km/h, that’s because you really need to drive at 30 km/h. And, as soon as you’ve passed through the 30 km/h zone you can resume the usual 100 km/h speed along crazy, twisty country roads.
The other interesting thing about the road from Tikitiki to Tokomaru Bay is that we saw a lot of birds and livestock. By that, I mean that at one point I nearly ran over a hawk that was eating a newly-killed opossum in the middle of the road. I also had to dodge numerous magpies and the occassional pheasant. Just when I was starting to get tired I nearly drove into two pigs that had escaped the farm and gone walkabout. There were also a few sheep on the road, and a herd of cows being transferred to a new paddock.
We arrived in Tokomaru Bay and stopped at the 4 Square to buy sweets for the kids and a couple of bottles of wine for dinner. We arrived at their house around 6pm and were greeted with hugs, which we fouled up by extending our hands for a handshake. This confused the kids to no end. We were invited inside where we were invited to talk about our travels until tea was served. There wasn’t enough room at the table for everyone so the adults sat at the table and the kids sat on the floor (Bill and Jan have six kids). The owner of the 4 Square, Bruce, also joined us for tea.
After dinner Bill and Jan arranged a game called Rat in which six different sweets were arranged on a plate. One person was sent out of the room while everyone else chose a sweet, which became the Rat. The person was then invited back into the room and had to choose one sweet at a time. If it wasn’t the Rat they could keep the sweet. If it was the Rat they could keep any sweets that they had already, but forfeited any further chances to choose sweets. The sweets were stocked up again and the process of choosing the Rat started again.
We talked a bit about Maori culture after dinner but felt a bit uncomfortable because Bill and Bruce disparaged the Tamaki Maori Village tour and hangi that we enjoyed so much in Rotorua. Perhaps ‘disparaged’ is too strong a word. They called it the “plastic Maori” experience. I pushed on, however, asking about economic development and other issues. Bill deferred to Bruce, who filled us in on local business and non-business.
The kids had gone to bed earlier, but the adults went to bed around 9pm. Mom and I were sleeping in the boys’ room. Mom had a twin bed and I had the lower bunk bed. We slept heavily and didn’t wake until well after 8am. The kids were already up and enjoying a healthy breakfast of muesli, yoghurt, and milk as well as hot porridge.
After breakfast we walked to the lower paddock where the kids fed the pigs and collected eggs from the chicken coop. We walked through some gates to the neighbour’s land (Papa Shorty) and walked up a steep hill until we had a full view of Tokomaru Bay. It was absolutely beautiful. On the way down the hill the kids found horse mushrooms and watercress. They collected them for tea, and Mom and I marvelled at how knowledgeable the kids were about the land.
Buela with eggs in her hat:
Joshua climbing over the fence:
Isaac climbing over the fence:
Grace in her sunhat:
Jan and Beula:
Israel at the peak of the hill:
Didi with mushrooms:
I mentioned that it would be a lovely day to swim and asked if the kids could come for a swim. (Jan home-school’s the kids.) She said that would be fine so the kids changed into their wet suits and Mom and I changed into our swim suits. The first beach that we tried had a strong rip tide so we drove past town to another beach. There were big waves at the beach that felt like they would pull you out to sea, but they didn’t. The kids pulled out their boogie boards and swam out into the ocean to catch the waves. I went out with them and thoroughly enjoyed floating about in the warm Pacific Ocean.
Beula in her wet suit:
Mom and her shells:
Isaac and Joshua looking for the next big wave:
Mom and Jan stayed on the beach. I tried to encourage Mom to go into the water but there was something about the pull of the waves and the shelfs of sand that made her feel unsteady on her feet. Instead, she walked up and down the beach collecting beautiful sea shells.
We packed up and headed back to the house around 1pm so the youngest, Beula, could have a nap. Mom and I each had a shower. Beula wouldn’t go to sleep, perhaps because there were exciting visitors in the house, so we left and drove to Ruatoria.
We bought ice cream at the Ruatoria 4 Square, then walked down to Hughie Hughes Electronics. Jan had encouraged us to stop in there and say hello, because Hughie is Bill’s father. Hughie was on the phone when we arrived, but when he got off the phone we explained who we were and he showed us around the store then took us on an “official” tour of Ruatoria.
Hughie showed us the ambulance station, the police station, the old post office, a closed school, where he and his wife raised their four kids, and the local rugby pitch. From there he drove on a “metal” (gravel) road to an old marae on the ocean. It was just past the farm of Sir Apirana Ngata, now occupied by his daughter and grandsons. Hughie used to take his wife and kids to the beach by the marae in the evenings for dinner and a swim. The marae was closed (Hughie was kicking himself about that, because he could have asked a couple of people to give him the key to the marae, including Sir Ngata’s daughter) so we just looked through the windows.
What surprised me were the piles of foam mattresses and bedding. Hughie explained that when the marae was used for important occassions it wasn’t uncommon to have 40 people sleeping in the marae. The bedding was just piled up in a corner until the next big event.
We walked around the cemetary behind the marae as well. Hughie said he’d like to be buried there, and half-joked that the next time we visited New Zealand he’d have to entertain us there.
Back in town we said our goodbye’s, then drove back to Bill and Jan’s. We had a delicious beef curry for dinner, then looked at a slideshow of photos that I’d taken of the kids earlier in the day. We also looked at a few movies I’d taken of the kids boogie-boarding on the beach.
We had another satisfying sleep, waking up a bit earlier this morning so we could say goodbye to Bill before he went off to work. Just after breakfast Isaac presented us with a flax basket that he’d just woven. The flax was still green but he explained that as the flax dried it would turn a wonderful bone color.
I remembered that I had some gifts in my suitcase (still in the car) so I dashed out and dug them out. I gave Jan a carved necklace of BC jade and Bill a keychain with a casting of the raven. I gave the whole family a museum-replica bowl with coastal native designs.
Jan wanted to show us their B&B before we left so she loaded the kids into the car and we all drove to the B&B, just off the highway. The guests were still there but said it was okay for us to come in. It was absolutely stunning. It had been the post office and bank for close to 100 years and had an old vault, a telegraph room, as well as a sheltered outdoor room where people could collect mail from their post boxes. They’d stripped layers of paint from every wall and surface, renovated the staff room so it could be used as a kitchen, updated the water supply to support a modern bathroom, and generally renovated the building so it was now a gorgeous Martha Stewart-type B&B. Jan was quite humble about the B&B but both Mom and I were astounded at the beauty of the building, the renovations, and the decorations. You could tell that the whole family had put a lot of heart and soul into making it a beautiful place.
We said goodbye to Jan and the kids at the B&B and travelled south towards Gisborne. I had told Jan that I wanted to stop at Whangara, the village where the movie Whale Rider had been filmed. She explained that there were no road signs pointing to Whangara. She told me to look for a particular sheep station and then a road with a sign that said “school”. I saw the sheep station and turned left when I saw the school sign. We drove down, around, up, down, around, and finally down again to a beautiful bay.
There were no signs to say that we had arrived in Whangara but I knew we’d come to the right place as soon as I saw the marae with Paikia on the peak. The marae had been altered for the movie, obviously. The central posts in the movie were ornately carved but in the actual marae were plain posts with figures in front. There was carpeting around the edges of the marae floor and in the movie the floors were all wood. Still, it was so similar to the movie that I felt goosebumps.
We walked down to the beach and saw a small boat out fishing. We walked through the shallow surf to the right, seeing a vast expanse of beach extending further south. We took several pictures then returned to our car and reluctantly left Whangara.
We found the information center in Gisborne and decided to stay at a motel instead of the hostel. We settled in at a motel on the beach and put on two loads of laundry. Tonight we’ll meet up with Stew Wylds, a New Zealander that we met in Victoria when he was there working on his master’s degree.
Tomorrow we’re off to Napier!!
8am Tuesday, April 4, 2006 Rotorua
The spa was truly fantastic. We soaked in lakeside mineral pools that ranged in temperature from 36 to 42 C. The pools were man-made, of course, but there were mineral deposits building up on the rocks and the deposits made the pools look more natural. The pools were surrounded by lush native ferns and trees, which added some privacy but also emitted the most relaxing sounds as the wind moved through the fronds and leaves.
After an hour’s soak both Mom and I were off to 30-minute treatments. Mom got an Aix water massage and I got a mud massage. We both felt fantastic afterwards. Unfortunately we had to pack up and head back to the hostel right away to meet the bus for the Tamaki Maori Village tour. Otherwise we would have spent another hour or so relaxing in the mineral pools.
The Tamaki Maori Village tour was really fun. Our driver, Wiremu, was really jovial and quite funny. For example: “You can photograph or record anything in the village, but I would strongly recommend that you save some frames for the end of the evening, when you will want to take a few photos of me.”
The tour started with a challenge by a group of five warriors. The challenge had to be accepted by our chiefs, elected from each bus. The oldest chief ended up accepting the challenge but bolloxed it up by not kneeling to accept the peace offering. After the challenge was the welcoming call, a beautiful keening song by the a female elder.
We were then welcome to enter the village, where we had an extremely brief tour of five cultural displays. By brief, I mean that by the time I saw one we were being ushered out of the village. There was another dance and song as we entered the meeting hall. In the meeting hall we sat and enjoyed a 20-minute performance, which included singing as well as the haka.
The haka:
By then we were all good and hungry, so it was a good thing that our next stop was the dining hall. The food was laid out buffet-style, but had been prepared in an earth stove or hangi pit lined with hot bricks and flax and covered with wet burlap sacks and sand. The food was simple but delicious. I tried kumara (sweet potatoes) for the first time, and polished off three slices of the delicious lamb.
After dinner we were invited to go outside where our driver Wiremu explained how the hangi pit was created and how the food was cooked inside the pit. Then we had about 10 minutes to lay down cash for necklaces, carvings, and t-shirts before we were ushered back into the dining hall for a final goodbye speech and song.
Wiremu explaining the hangi pit:
The best part of the evening, in my opinion, was the drive home. Wiremu made us sing songs from our home countries – the people from the US couldn’t think of one – then he got us singing “She’ll be comin’round the mountain” as he and another driver steered their two huge buses around a big roundabout several times. It was a complete hoot.
It was raining as we arrived back at the hostel and it looks like it rained all night. I had the best sleep, though. There’s something about the sound of the rain and the freshness of the air that puts me into a deep and satisfying slumber.
This morning we’ll head back to the spa to soak in the public pools (we have a free pass). We may stop at the Internet café again before departing for Ruatoria, where we’ll be staying with friends of Bruce’s.
After an hour’s soak both Mom and I were off to 30-minute treatments. Mom got an Aix water massage and I got a mud massage. We both felt fantastic afterwards. Unfortunately we had to pack up and head back to the hostel right away to meet the bus for the Tamaki Maori Village tour. Otherwise we would have spent another hour or so relaxing in the mineral pools.
The Tamaki Maori Village tour was really fun. Our driver, Wiremu, was really jovial and quite funny. For example: “You can photograph or record anything in the village, but I would strongly recommend that you save some frames for the end of the evening, when you will want to take a few photos of me.”
The tour started with a challenge by a group of five warriors. The challenge had to be accepted by our chiefs, elected from each bus. The oldest chief ended up accepting the challenge but bolloxed it up by not kneeling to accept the peace offering. After the challenge was the welcoming call, a beautiful keening song by the a female elder.
We were then welcome to enter the village, where we had an extremely brief tour of five cultural displays. By brief, I mean that by the time I saw one we were being ushered out of the village. There was another dance and song as we entered the meeting hall. In the meeting hall we sat and enjoyed a 20-minute performance, which included singing as well as the haka.
The haka:
By then we were all good and hungry, so it was a good thing that our next stop was the dining hall. The food was laid out buffet-style, but had been prepared in an earth stove or hangi pit lined with hot bricks and flax and covered with wet burlap sacks and sand. The food was simple but delicious. I tried kumara (sweet potatoes) for the first time, and polished off three slices of the delicious lamb.
After dinner we were invited to go outside where our driver Wiremu explained how the hangi pit was created and how the food was cooked inside the pit. Then we had about 10 minutes to lay down cash for necklaces, carvings, and t-shirts before we were ushered back into the dining hall for a final goodbye speech and song.
Wiremu explaining the hangi pit:
The best part of the evening, in my opinion, was the drive home. Wiremu made us sing songs from our home countries – the people from the US couldn’t think of one – then he got us singing “She’ll be comin’round the mountain” as he and another driver steered their two huge buses around a big roundabout several times. It was a complete hoot.
It was raining as we arrived back at the hostel and it looks like it rained all night. I had the best sleep, though. There’s something about the sound of the rain and the freshness of the air that puts me into a deep and satisfying slumber.
This morning we’ll head back to the spa to soak in the public pools (we have a free pass). We may stop at the Internet café again before departing for Ruatoria, where we’ll be staying with friends of Bruce’s.
2pm Monday, April 3, 2006 Rotorua
We left Tauranga early, around 8:30am, and drove to Mt. Manganui for breakfast. It was pouring rain so we didn’t go for a walk on the beautiful beach. We could tell that it would be a fantastic place to relax and swim on a good day, though.
Got a bit lost leaving Mt. Manganui but eventually found our way onto the correct highway and began the slow, cautious drive to Rotorua. I was only driving at 80 to 90 km/h because of the rain.
We arrived in Rotorua around noon and, once again, found the information center quite by accident. We picked up a free map – the most inaccurate and unhelpful so far – and booked a performance and dinner at Tamaki Maori Village for the following evening. We drove to the hostel and checked in but our room wasn’t quite ready. So, we left our luggage and drove into town to the museum.
I got completely turned around because a road that was clearly marked on the map as a through road was actually a pedestrians-only shopping lane. I tried to get to the museum via another road, only to find that at a certain point it became a one-way road. Argh! I eventually found the way to the museum and parked, thankful to be off the road.
The museum was quite lovely. We started by watching a short movie about the history and culture of Rotorua. The area is volcanic and in the late 1800s there was a major eruption that destroyed the town and killed over 100 people. The benches in the theatre shook and jumped to simulate the tremors from the eruption.
From there we went to an exhibit that explained the culture of the Te Arawa, the local Maori group. It was quite informative and I really enjoyed the artifacts that the Te Arawa had shared with the museum. We also went to an exhibit about a Maori battalion that fought in WWII and was quite successful in battle. Dad would have loved that exhibit!
We saw a static exhibit about the volcanic eruption that provided more information about how the people in the town reacted during the event and how the survivors fled the area after the event. The final exhibit that we visited reviewed the museum building’s history as a geothermal spa where people came to “take the cure” for various ailments. We even walked into the basement and, hardhats on, explored the labyrinth of pipes and gauges that fuelled the spa baths.
We drove from the museum to the Polynesian Spa and booked a spa treatment for the following day (today). Then we swung by Pak ‘n’ Save and bought groceries. I wanted home-made spaghetti for dinner so we picked up some veggies, mince (ground beef), pasta, and sauce. Mom also picked up some cereal and fruit for our breakfast.
Back at the hostel, we cooked dinner and then retreated to our room to watch The Motorcycle Diaries on my laptop. Quite a few people walked by and looked in the room, probably curious how we ended up with a TV in our room.
This morning we awoke early. Mom had a shower then went over to the kitchen for breakfast. She came back within a couple of minutes, steaming mad. Someone had stolen all of our groceries, including Mom’s precious fruit. I dressed and had a shower, then we marched over to the hostel reception to complain. Apparently people had been complaining all morning about stolen food.
The first order of business this morning was to find another Flash drive (mine broke in Hamilton) so I could upload text and photos to my blog. We found a Dick Smith’s in town, I bought a Flash drive, then we wandered across the street to an Internet café where I transferred files from my laptop to the Flash drive, then from the Flash drive to Blogger. (If you’re wondering why I didn’t just plug my laptop into a network port, they charged twice the normal rate for the privelege of plugging directly into the network.)
From there we walked to a music store and bought some music for the remainder of our road trip. I’ve been humming and whistling an old Gowan song incessantly since Hamilton, where I heard it in a shop. Three or four days of the same song is a bit irritating, even for me, so Mom and I agreed it was time to get some CDs. Mom picked up some CDs of traditional Maori songs and I picked up Oceania II.
We had a quick brunch at McD’s, visited some gift shops, then drove to the park. You have to pay big dollars to gain entrance to the largest geothermal ponds and geysers and we didn’t want to spend our money on that kind of thing. The guy at the information center had circled a park area on the map and advised us to go there to see geothermal ponds for free. It was a fabulous little park and we had a great time wandering amongst stinky bubbling mud holes and stinky steamy ponds. I have some nice videos of the more interesting mud holes and ponds.
Bloop, bloop, plop - and stinky, too!
Near the car park there was a shallow geothermal pool where you could soak your feet so we pulled off our sandals and put our feet in. Shortly afterwards a whole bus load of Korean tourists arrived and joined us in the foot bath. They were very friendly and one of the fellows spoke very good English. We lingered for about 20 minutes then decided to head back to the hostel. We said goodbye to the tour group and received many waves.
We’ll head off to the Polynesian Spa shortly. Tonight is the Tamaki Maori Village tour, performance, and dinner. Should be good!
Got a bit lost leaving Mt. Manganui but eventually found our way onto the correct highway and began the slow, cautious drive to Rotorua. I was only driving at 80 to 90 km/h because of the rain.
We arrived in Rotorua around noon and, once again, found the information center quite by accident. We picked up a free map – the most inaccurate and unhelpful so far – and booked a performance and dinner at Tamaki Maori Village for the following evening. We drove to the hostel and checked in but our room wasn’t quite ready. So, we left our luggage and drove into town to the museum.
I got completely turned around because a road that was clearly marked on the map as a through road was actually a pedestrians-only shopping lane. I tried to get to the museum via another road, only to find that at a certain point it became a one-way road. Argh! I eventually found the way to the museum and parked, thankful to be off the road.
The museum was quite lovely. We started by watching a short movie about the history and culture of Rotorua. The area is volcanic and in the late 1800s there was a major eruption that destroyed the town and killed over 100 people. The benches in the theatre shook and jumped to simulate the tremors from the eruption.
From there we went to an exhibit that explained the culture of the Te Arawa, the local Maori group. It was quite informative and I really enjoyed the artifacts that the Te Arawa had shared with the museum. We also went to an exhibit about a Maori battalion that fought in WWII and was quite successful in battle. Dad would have loved that exhibit!
We saw a static exhibit about the volcanic eruption that provided more information about how the people in the town reacted during the event and how the survivors fled the area after the event. The final exhibit that we visited reviewed the museum building’s history as a geothermal spa where people came to “take the cure” for various ailments. We even walked into the basement and, hardhats on, explored the labyrinth of pipes and gauges that fuelled the spa baths.
We drove from the museum to the Polynesian Spa and booked a spa treatment for the following day (today). Then we swung by Pak ‘n’ Save and bought groceries. I wanted home-made spaghetti for dinner so we picked up some veggies, mince (ground beef), pasta, and sauce. Mom also picked up some cereal and fruit for our breakfast.
Back at the hostel, we cooked dinner and then retreated to our room to watch The Motorcycle Diaries on my laptop. Quite a few people walked by and looked in the room, probably curious how we ended up with a TV in our room.
This morning we awoke early. Mom had a shower then went over to the kitchen for breakfast. She came back within a couple of minutes, steaming mad. Someone had stolen all of our groceries, including Mom’s precious fruit. I dressed and had a shower, then we marched over to the hostel reception to complain. Apparently people had been complaining all morning about stolen food.
The first order of business this morning was to find another Flash drive (mine broke in Hamilton) so I could upload text and photos to my blog. We found a Dick Smith’s in town, I bought a Flash drive, then we wandered across the street to an Internet café where I transferred files from my laptop to the Flash drive, then from the Flash drive to Blogger. (If you’re wondering why I didn’t just plug my laptop into a network port, they charged twice the normal rate for the privelege of plugging directly into the network.)
From there we walked to a music store and bought some music for the remainder of our road trip. I’ve been humming and whistling an old Gowan song incessantly since Hamilton, where I heard it in a shop. Three or four days of the same song is a bit irritating, even for me, so Mom and I agreed it was time to get some CDs. Mom picked up some CDs of traditional Maori songs and I picked up Oceania II.
We had a quick brunch at McD’s, visited some gift shops, then drove to the park. You have to pay big dollars to gain entrance to the largest geothermal ponds and geysers and we didn’t want to spend our money on that kind of thing. The guy at the information center had circled a park area on the map and advised us to go there to see geothermal ponds for free. It was a fabulous little park and we had a great time wandering amongst stinky bubbling mud holes and stinky steamy ponds. I have some nice videos of the more interesting mud holes and ponds.
Bloop, bloop, plop - and stinky, too!
Near the car park there was a shallow geothermal pool where you could soak your feet so we pulled off our sandals and put our feet in. Shortly afterwards a whole bus load of Korean tourists arrived and joined us in the foot bath. They were very friendly and one of the fellows spoke very good English. We lingered for about 20 minutes then decided to head back to the hostel. We said goodbye to the tour group and received many waves.
We’ll head off to the Polynesian Spa shortly. Tonight is the Tamaki Maori Village tour, performance, and dinner. Should be good!
3.4.06
7:30pm Saturday, April 1, 2006 Tauranga
On the way to Paihia we stopped at the Gumdigger’s Fields. It was very educational to see how the gumdiggers (fellows who dug into the ground to recover the fossilized sap, i.e. amber, from the buried ancient kauri trees) lived and worked. Like many historic sites, the Gumdigger’s Fields were privately run so we had to pay a steep price to enter but it was worth it. We enjoyed the video, seeing the deep gum holes, and the recreated camps. We also enjoyed the nature walk where we learned about native flora and fauna.
Kauri gum display at the Gumdigger's Fields:
Me standing in a giant gum hole:
We arrived in Paihia around 1pm and stopped at the information center, where we booked passage on the R. Tucker Thompson for the next day and inquired about the ferry to Russell and other activities. We then drove a couple of blocks to the hostel and checked in.
Parking was at a premium (maximum 30 minutes) in most of Paihia but we found a 4 hour parking space and had lunch, then walked to the ferry and went over to Russell. I just wanted to walk around but Mom suggested a 1-hour mini-tour run by Fullers. We went on the mini-tour, where we saw lots of historic sites and learned a great deal about the local history. It was quite entertaining and we enjoyed the stories of the tour guide. We got back to Russell around 4pm and most shops were already closing. We went to a couple of them, then caught the ferry back to Paihia.
One of the many ferries operating between Paihia and Russell:
We stopped and got Chinese take-out for dinner, and enjoyed a meal of fried rice, chow mein, spicy chicken, egg foo yong, and other yummy treats. We were in bed by 8pm again, exhausted from the trip, the sun, and the fresh air.
We got up early the next morning and caught the ferry to Russell, where we had a nice breakfast at the Waterfront Café then walked back to the wharf and boarded the R. Tucker Thompson, a traditional tall ship.
The R. Tucker Thompson at dock:
Captain Garth was quite a character but seemed to favour certain guests over others. Mom made a point of telling him that we were from Canada (cringe) but I suppose she was right to do so because, hell, we’re just as foreign as other foreigners who were sailing on the boat that day.
We got underway at 10am and motored to an island where Cook, as a lieutenant, had anchored and traded with the locals. We anchored and a small Zodiac took people ashore to explore the island. Mom wasn’t sure if she could climb down to the boat but when she saw me do it she was sure she could do it. She clambered down to the boat with confidence and had no problem climbing off onto the beach.
Manton and Mom on the Zodiac:
We gazed in awe at the rocky lagoon then walked up a grassy bank to a sign post, which encouraged people to walk up a path to the top of an ancient Maori pa (fortification). It was a twisty, wet path with lots of tree roots but Mom powered up the path like a trooper. After the roots there were more than 100 steps to the summit. The view at the summit was amazing and well worth the trek. We turned around and around and admired the view, and slowly more people from the R. Tucker Thompson arrived. We all took photos of each other, then Mom and I made our way back down to the beach.
Enjoying the warm lagoon waters:
Finally! Made it to the top of the hill:
We caught the Zodiac back to the ship and I immediately changed into my bathing suit. I climbed down the swim ladder then splashed back into the warm Pacific Ocean. A lot of people were complaining about how cold the water was, but I kept thinking about how cold the Pacific is on the west coast of Canada and laughed at them. I swam around the ship and talked to a few other swimmers then clambered back onto the boat – more difficult than I’d imagined.
View of the R. Tucker Thompson from the Zodiac:
Lunch was salad with a lovely balsamic vinegar sauce, curry chicken, and bakery-fresh French bread. There was also New Zealand wine and beer. We feasted, and watched as some of the younger sailors swung off the yardarm into the sea.
Lady Sarah Battersby serving lunch:
After lunch we pulled off the hook then put up the sails. We had a good westerly into Russell and enjoyed the silent power of sailing. A bit catamaran pulled alongside so Captain Garth fired off the mock-canon, to the great amusement of all passengers. The crew – Mark, Manton, and Sarah – said that sometimes the catamaran retaliated by spraying the R. Tucker Thompson with its water canon.
Mark at the topsails:
We arrived back in Russell at 4pm and most of the stores were already closed. We headed back to Paihia and had another early night.
This morning we were up at 7am (Mom’s fault) and ready to go by 8am. I checked my email then we drove around a bit until 8:45am when we arrived at the Waitangi Treaty Grounds. It opened at 9am and we were the first guests in to the grounds. We enjoyed a video then walked to the giant waka (war canoe) and to the Treaty House where the Treaty of Waitangi was signed. It was very interesting to see how small the house was and to learn about how the grounds were used for mediation. From there we visited a Maori greeting house that has no name to ensure that there are no tribal arguments. We had a coffee on the way out of the Treaty grounds then started our drive south.
Traditional waka (canoe) at Waitangi Treaty grounds:
We weren’t sure how far we’d travel and just winged it. We made it to Whangerei in no time, stopped at Wellesford for lunch, drove through Auckland with no problems, had ice cream in Waihi, and arrived – 500+ kms later – at Tauranga. Like many cities in New Zealand there were plenty of signs pointing us into the city center but no information once we entered the city. I just kept driving until I hit a dead-end. Turns out we were at the bottom of Elizabeth Street and the youth hostel was at the top of the same street. We had to swing around a round-about to get to it.
They didn’t have any twin or double rooms left so we booked into a dorm room. Mom wasn’t too pleased about that, but because I’ve stayed in lots of dorm rooms I felt very comfortable and convinced her to stay.
We had dinner of soup and sandwiches in the kitchen. I checked email again – which is fantastic because the availability of email in the Northland was really limited – and now I’m updating this blog. I’m ready for bed already but 8pm is a pretty indecent time to go to bed in most dorms. I can sleep through anything but Mom’s a bit more particular.
Tomorrow we head to Rotorua where we’re looking forward to learning more about Maori culture and history.
Kauri gum display at the Gumdigger's Fields:
Me standing in a giant gum hole:
We arrived in Paihia around 1pm and stopped at the information center, where we booked passage on the R. Tucker Thompson for the next day and inquired about the ferry to Russell and other activities. We then drove a couple of blocks to the hostel and checked in.
Parking was at a premium (maximum 30 minutes) in most of Paihia but we found a 4 hour parking space and had lunch, then walked to the ferry and went over to Russell. I just wanted to walk around but Mom suggested a 1-hour mini-tour run by Fullers. We went on the mini-tour, where we saw lots of historic sites and learned a great deal about the local history. It was quite entertaining and we enjoyed the stories of the tour guide. We got back to Russell around 4pm and most shops were already closing. We went to a couple of them, then caught the ferry back to Paihia.
One of the many ferries operating between Paihia and Russell:
We stopped and got Chinese take-out for dinner, and enjoyed a meal of fried rice, chow mein, spicy chicken, egg foo yong, and other yummy treats. We were in bed by 8pm again, exhausted from the trip, the sun, and the fresh air.
We got up early the next morning and caught the ferry to Russell, where we had a nice breakfast at the Waterfront Café then walked back to the wharf and boarded the R. Tucker Thompson, a traditional tall ship.
The R. Tucker Thompson at dock:
Captain Garth was quite a character but seemed to favour certain guests over others. Mom made a point of telling him that we were from Canada (cringe) but I suppose she was right to do so because, hell, we’re just as foreign as other foreigners who were sailing on the boat that day.
We got underway at 10am and motored to an island where Cook, as a lieutenant, had anchored and traded with the locals. We anchored and a small Zodiac took people ashore to explore the island. Mom wasn’t sure if she could climb down to the boat but when she saw me do it she was sure she could do it. She clambered down to the boat with confidence and had no problem climbing off onto the beach.
Manton and Mom on the Zodiac:
We gazed in awe at the rocky lagoon then walked up a grassy bank to a sign post, which encouraged people to walk up a path to the top of an ancient Maori pa (fortification). It was a twisty, wet path with lots of tree roots but Mom powered up the path like a trooper. After the roots there were more than 100 steps to the summit. The view at the summit was amazing and well worth the trek. We turned around and around and admired the view, and slowly more people from the R. Tucker Thompson arrived. We all took photos of each other, then Mom and I made our way back down to the beach.
Enjoying the warm lagoon waters:
Finally! Made it to the top of the hill:
We caught the Zodiac back to the ship and I immediately changed into my bathing suit. I climbed down the swim ladder then splashed back into the warm Pacific Ocean. A lot of people were complaining about how cold the water was, but I kept thinking about how cold the Pacific is on the west coast of Canada and laughed at them. I swam around the ship and talked to a few other swimmers then clambered back onto the boat – more difficult than I’d imagined.
View of the R. Tucker Thompson from the Zodiac:
Lunch was salad with a lovely balsamic vinegar sauce, curry chicken, and bakery-fresh French bread. There was also New Zealand wine and beer. We feasted, and watched as some of the younger sailors swung off the yardarm into the sea.
Lady Sarah Battersby serving lunch:
After lunch we pulled off the hook then put up the sails. We had a good westerly into Russell and enjoyed the silent power of sailing. A bit catamaran pulled alongside so Captain Garth fired off the mock-canon, to the great amusement of all passengers. The crew – Mark, Manton, and Sarah – said that sometimes the catamaran retaliated by spraying the R. Tucker Thompson with its water canon.
Mark at the topsails:
We arrived back in Russell at 4pm and most of the stores were already closed. We headed back to Paihia and had another early night.
This morning we were up at 7am (Mom’s fault) and ready to go by 8am. I checked my email then we drove around a bit until 8:45am when we arrived at the Waitangi Treaty Grounds. It opened at 9am and we were the first guests in to the grounds. We enjoyed a video then walked to the giant waka (war canoe) and to the Treaty House where the Treaty of Waitangi was signed. It was very interesting to see how small the house was and to learn about how the grounds were used for mediation. From there we visited a Maori greeting house that has no name to ensure that there are no tribal arguments. We had a coffee on the way out of the Treaty grounds then started our drive south.
Traditional waka (canoe) at Waitangi Treaty grounds:
We weren’t sure how far we’d travel and just winged it. We made it to Whangerei in no time, stopped at Wellesford for lunch, drove through Auckland with no problems, had ice cream in Waihi, and arrived – 500+ kms later – at Tauranga. Like many cities in New Zealand there were plenty of signs pointing us into the city center but no information once we entered the city. I just kept driving until I hit a dead-end. Turns out we were at the bottom of Elizabeth Street and the youth hostel was at the top of the same street. We had to swing around a round-about to get to it.
They didn’t have any twin or double rooms left so we booked into a dorm room. Mom wasn’t too pleased about that, but because I’ve stayed in lots of dorm rooms I felt very comfortable and convinced her to stay.
We had dinner of soup and sandwiches in the kitchen. I checked email again – which is fantastic because the availability of email in the Northland was really limited – and now I’m updating this blog. I’m ready for bed already but 8pm is a pretty indecent time to go to bed in most dorms. I can sleep through anything but Mom’s a bit more particular.
Tomorrow we head to Rotorua where we’re looking forward to learning more about Maori culture and history.
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