July 30 AMORGOS

Yesterday we had breakfast in Katapola at our favorite café, Mudos, which has good food at reasonable prices. The owner is a taciturn kind of fellow but after a couple of visits he really warmed up and now we get big smiles from him, his son, and the kitchen helper.

We caught the 10:30am bus to Aigiali. We found a nice shady/sunny spot on the beach. Simone and I set up our towels in the sunny area and Mom set up her towel in the shady area.

Aigiali Bay:

I went for a long swim. The water was warm near the beach but got cooler the further you went out. I enjoyed surfing the incoming waves which rolled gently onto the crescent-shaped white sand beach. There were a lot of children playing in the water close to the beach. Only a few people – those who were confident swimmers, I suppose – swam further out. I went out about 20m but lost my confidence in the surging ocean and turned back toward the beach.

The nice thing about waterproof cameras is that you can take pictures of yourself in the ocean:

Simone and Mom don’t like swimming so they just waded in the surf. They went for a long walk along the bay while I dried off in the sun. We swam and sat in the sun for close to two hours.

We didn’t want to overdo things so we packed up and found a café in town, just off the main road, that was just opening for the day. You could see an old man peeling a huge bucket of potatoes. You could also hear someone inside the café cutting meat with a cleaver.

The restaurant in Aigiali:

Mom had spanikopita and Simone had tiropita. I ordered pork souvlaki but was served chicken souvlaki, but didn’t mind because it was excellent. Some feral cats came by to beg for scraps. One tried to scratch Simone every time she fed one of the other cats. I was able to pet a cute gray cat but I got overconfident and petted him near his belly and he bit me. It was a warning bite – it didn’t break the skin – but it made me remember that I was petting wild animals, not house pets.

We caught the bus back to Chora and stopped in to see Susie and Rita. We stayed for an hour, chatting and eating the last of the welcome cake, before catching the bus to Katapola.

We washed up and relaxed in the pension until 7:30pm and then walked into Katapola to Mudos. Mom and Simone tried pastitsio, the Greek version of macaroni and cheese. I got to sample it and it was very fresh and tasty. Our favorite feral cat, who we’ve named Anastasia, spent a long time with us at Mudos. She’s a gorgeous calico cat, thin but clean and healthy, who has obviously had a litter of kittens recently. She’s very gentle and purrs when you pet her.

We all slept well last night and woke up early. We had a very light breakfast at Mudos before catching the bus to the monastery. The bus drops you off on the road at a desolate junction. You have to walk down the road to what is now a parking lot but used to be a wide spot in the road. Then, you have to walk up 350 stairs to the monastery, which is located high up on a cliff.

The junction:

A beautiful painting at the base of the stairs:

Simone wanted to get some exercise so she walked the stairs at her own pace. Mom and I took things slower – me because of my bum legs and Mom because of the heat. The steps are wide and there is a knee-high wall which provides some comfort as you scale the side of the mountain. The steps, however, are rocky and uneven so it’s important to choose your footing carefully.

The stairs and the monastery high above:

Half way there:

Almost there:

It was nice to reach the monastery and the shade of some small trees. The shady area turned out to be the robing/disrobing area. You have to wear respectful clothing into the monastery – shirts that cover your shoulders, long pants for men, and skirts below the knee for women. No exceptions. So, many people climb up in shorts, etc. then put on pants and skirts outside the monastery.

The shady area:

The steps to the monastery are steep, between 20 and 30cm in the rise. We were greeted at the door by a young boy who directed us to walk up the stairs. At the top of the stairs was another boy who directed us to walk up another flight of stairs to the prayer chamber.

Inside chamber was the holy icon that washed ashore hundreds of years ago, as well as beautiful paintings, wood carvings, and offerings. The chamber is lined with seats for the monks. These days there are only three monks at the monastery but in the past there were over 100 monks there.

The chamber was monitored by a monk, who offered blessings to those of the faith and answer questions about the monastery. Simone got into quite a discussion with him and he told her about some of the historic events at the monastery and pointed out one offering, which looks like an upside-down turban, which was given to the monastery by a Turkish seafarer who was caught in a storm, saw the monastery, and promised an offering if God provided safe passage for him and his ship.

From the chamber we walked down the stairs and were directed up a set of stairs that I hadn’t noticed on the way up. At the top of the stairs was a reception room with chairs and tables. Two more young men served water, brandy, and brandy jellies made by the monks. We sat down next to a man from Thessaloniki who spoke English and told us that serving brandy was a traditional offering to visitors to provide relaxation and stimulate the nerves after a long journey. We got talking and I laughed loudly a couple of times, and he shooshed me. He was very nice about it. He just wanted to remind me to be respectful in such a holy place.

Outside the monastery we stripped off our dresses and long-sleeved shirts. I thought the climb down the stairs would be easier but it was actually quite difficult. The stones were slanted and could be quite slippery. I slipped twice but managed to catch myself. A German woman fell down the stairs below us, but luckily she was unhurt.

Photo break on the way down:

We walked back up to the junction and waited for the bus, which came 30 minutes later. It was a quick drive back to Chora – all uphill. Rita met us at the bus stop and we walked to a local ouzeri where she had arranged for lunch.

The restaurant:

I knew we were in for a wonderful – and large - meal when I heard her ordering mezethes. Sure enough, close to 10 dishes arrived for us to sample - tzatziki, patatas, beetroot and garlic, zucchini balls, tiropita, spanikopita, “monk” (layers of eggplant, beef, tomato, and cheese), “athirina” (tiny deep fried whole fish), swordfish, shark - as well as a bottle of local wine. Dessert was baklava and what looked like very thin angelhair pasta wrapped into a ball around nuts and soaked in honey.

The first few dishes:

Athirina:

We feasted and talked for over two hours. Mom and Simone were absolutly gobsmacked by the meal. They’d never seen a spread like that before. I remembered having a similar meal in Athens with Susie, Rita, and Stella that lasted from 9pm to about 2am.

Simone, the owner, Rita, and Mom:

We caught the 4pm bus back to Katapola and have just had a long siesta. The heat was ferocious today and we were all feeling drained. Of course, we had a huge meal to sleep off as well! It’s 8pm right now and we’ll probably walk down to town around 9pm for a light snack before settling in for the night.

July 28 AMORGOS

Mom was up and out the door at 5:45am. The taxi picked her up, drove to Chora and picked Rita up, then dropped both off at the port in Aegiali (aye-ah-lee). The caught the ferry to Naxos and were picked up by ambulance and dropped off at the hospital. There were several other people from the surrounding islands in the emergency waiting to get treatment for dislocated joints, broken bones, sprains, etc.

Rita does not have any broken bones but she does have a sprain so she has to wear a brace for two weeks. In Greece you have to pay for your medical treatment and then claim against insurance. We don’t know how much she had to pay at the hospital but she seemed unconcerned because, as she said, “I claim it.”

While Mom and Rita were enjoying their hospital trip, Simone and I had breakfast at Katapola and then caught the bus to Chora to see Susie. It was clear that Susie was exhausted from the effort of speaking English so Simone and I went for a walk around town. When I visited Amorgos in 1997 there were only two “touristy” shops, one of which was a very talented potter. I bought some of the pottery for Simone and she has it displayed prominently in her kitchen. Today there are over 20 shops.

The Greek Orthodox church at the entrance to Chora:

We saw some of Simone’s pottery in one shop and asked where were could find more. The man indicated that we could find the potter’s shop down the alley. We looked very carefully but could not find the potter’s studio.

I just love Greek doorways:

We exited the town into a parking lot. I remembered that Rita and I walked down a path carved into the hillside from the parking lot to get to the monastery. So, I asked Simone to bear with me while I looked for the path. We found the path right away but realized that it was far too treacherous for Mom to traverse.

The footpath to the monastery:

We took a few photos of the hillside – uh, cliffside – because it was so beautifully barren. The wind was fierce and we both struggled to keep our footing while climbing back to the parking lot.

From there we walked back to town. We were both really keen to find the potter’s studio and double-checked each shop in the main alley. I mentioned to Simone that I thought the studio was beside the market and she walked in and asked the woman at the desk. She learned that the potter did have a studio next door but closed down a year ago because of health problems.

We were feeling hot and tired at that point so we stopped for a snack and drinks at a local café. Unlike the cafes in Katapola where everyone speaks English, no one at this café spoke English. We managed to “sign” what we wanted and sat down to enjoy the sights and sounds of Chora.

Sweet reward after a hot day of walking:

Around that time Mom and Rita arrived in a taxi from the port. We walked back to Susie and Rita’s home. We showed Susie and Rita pictures on the laptop (Susie had never seen a laptop before) and when they got tired of that we chatted and had leftover cake.

By that time Susie was getting very tired so Mom, Simone, and I said our goodbyes and caught the bus back to Katapola. In fact, we ran after the bus as it was leaving Chora and were very lucky to catch it. Otherwise, we would have had to wait another hour until the next bus came.

We will have some dinner in a couple of hours. Then, we’ll head home and hopefully have a sound night’s sleep. Tomorrow we’re planning to catch the bus to Aegiali and swim in the ocean. Then we’ll catch the bus to Chora to visit with Rita and Susie, and the bus to Katapola for dinner and a rest.

July 27 AMORGOS

As I mentioned in the previous entry, last night we walked to the unfinished Temple of Apollo. The sun was just setting and cast a beautiful amber glow on the marble. Like at Stonehenge, you can only admire the marble archway from a footpath 10m away. Still, it was a lovely bit of history and I didn’t mind admiring it from a distance.

The Temple of Apollo, with Naxos town in the background:

The restaurant was largely empty because the storm passing over the island was causing numerous waves to crash onto the walkway to the Temple of Apollo (and to the restaurant). We got a “front row” seat and enjoyed watching the boats come and go and the sun setting over the town.

The restaurant below the Temple of Apollo:

We ordered four appetizers - tzatziki, wild greens, calamari, and meatballs – with the intention of sharing them. The tzatziki and wild greens arrived right away. We expected the “wild greens” to be a mixed green salad. What we got was something similar to cooked spinach.

The calamari, when it arrived, was absolutely delicious. The meatballs were heavily spiced and more like mini hamburger patties. Mom tried the calamari and didn’t like it so she ate most of the meatballs while Simone and I finished off the calamari.

This morning we woke early to catch the ferry to Amorgos. Dmitrious drove us to the dock, where we lined up with about 100 other people. The ferry arrived a few minutes late, but the ferry crew made up for that by making sure that people boarded the ferry quickly. This involved the crew yelling “Hurry up! You are too slow!” and pushing people onto the ramp.

There was very little space for luggage so most people had to carry their luggage inside and stack it in the aisle next to their seats. This meant that we had to lift our luggage over other people’s luggage. Normally I wouldn’t mind that, but the crew had already cast off. So, we had to lift our luggage over other people’s luggage, but for added fun we had to do so while the ferry was heaving and lurching in heavy seas. We eventually found our seats and collapsed into them, glad to be sitting instead of staggering around in the aisles like drunks.

Exiting the ferry at the port of Katapola proved quite easy. Cousin Rita met us at the dock and whisked us down the causeway to a café for coffee and a brief chat. She then hired the local taxi (there’s only one on the island) to take us and our luggage to our pension. It’s actually a “room to let” in someone’s house, and over looks the port of Katapola. Rita arranged for us to stay in Katapola instead of Chora because she felt we would get bored in Chora.

Our pension:

After a brief stop at the pension we got back into the taxi and went to Chora. We said hello to aunt Susie, then Rita showed us the way to the kastro above Chora. The kastro is an ancient structure where women and children would hide when the town was invaded. All of the roofs in Chora are connected and they all lead up to the kastro, so the women and children would go from roof to roof until they reached the safety of the kastro.

The kastro is not normally open to tourists. However, since Rita is a local she arranged to borrow the key to the kastro so we could visit it. When we got to the kastro there were actually two young men there, who also had a key. I didn’t realize that there was more than one key!

The steps to the kastro (no rails!):

We climbed through the small doors and carefully made our way to the kastro wall where we had a magnificent view of the city. It was still blowing a gale so we had to be particularly careful about our footing and our belongings, which could easily fly off in the heavy wind.

The kastro door, all 4ft high of it:

A view of Chora from the kastro:

On our way down from the kastro Rita slipped on some loose gravel and hurt her knee. The two young men, who had probably finished their military service, checked her knee and helped her get down from the kastro wall to the kastro doors, which provided some relief from the wind. One of the men went down into Chora to get the doctor. Three men arrived about 30 minutes later with the nurse and a stretcher. Rita refused to be carried down the steep kastro steps in the stretcher and instead opted to go down the steps on her bum. At the bottom of the steps the men helped her into the stretcher and carried her out of the town (which only has footpaths) to a waiting ambulance.

The ambulance:

We thanked the two young men for helping Rita, then piled into the ambulance like a bunch of circus clowns. At least, that’s what it felt like. It was a short drive to the local hospital, where the doctor checked Rita’s knee and provided a temporary bandage so she could walk. He insisted that she go to Naxos the next day to get an x-ray of her knee.

One of the men who carried Rita on the stretcher drove us from the hospital back to town in the ambulance. When we got out all of the locals wanted to know what had happened to Rita. She didn’t want them to worry and explained that she’d just had a minor slip.

Aunt Susie had lunch ready for us and we enjoyed stewed beef with mashed potatoes and a pea and tomato salad. Susie noticed that Rita was limping and wanted to know why. Rita explained that she had slipped. Susie was upset, but became even more upset when she learned that Rita had to go to Naxos for an x-ray the next day. Mom volunteered to go with Rita to Naxos and Simone and I volunteered to stay with Susie until Rita and Mom got back from Naxos.

Aunt Susie, Simone, Mom, and cousin Rita:

After lunch we took the taxi back to Katapola. We were all feeling very sweaty and sticky so we had showers and changed clothes. Then we walked into town to check things out. We took a lot of pictures of the harbour and the whitewashed alleyways. When we got back to the pension I copied the photos from our cameras to my laptop and we enjoyed a little slideshow of the day’s best shots.

Katapola harbour:

A shop in Katapola:

Cat hunting a lizard in Katapola:

July 26 NAXOS

We made it! We’re on the beautiful island of Naxos, and finally feel like we’re on holiday. Getting from Victoria to Athens was hard work, esp. the transfer at Frankfurt.

We thought Frankfurt would be an easier transfer point than Heathrow but we were wrong. We had to go through a tighter security check than in Vancouver, and the Johnnie Walker that I purchased at the duty free shop in Vancouver for cousin Rita was confiscated and – hopefully – destroyed. The rat-in-a-maze journey from one terminal to another didn’t improve my disposition, nor did the clouds of cigarette smoke in the waiting areas.

The airport in Athens was relatively smoke-free. It was also security free. We collected our baggage and walked out of the airport without going through a security check or customs. The security was actually tighter when I was here in 1997 when one bored and hot customs officer stamped passports without even looking at who was presenting them.

Walking out of the air conditioned airport into the 40C heat was a shock to the system. It literally felt like we were in a sauna. We had to wait 10 minutes in the taxi queue but eventually got a cab and headed toward Athens.

Our driver didn’t speak English so he dialed someone on his cell phone who could interpret. He didn’t know where our hotel was so he called the hotel to get directions. He got lost, however, and started asking locals for directions. None of them knew the hotel either and he eventually just kicked us to the curb in front of another hotel, then overcharged us by 10 Euros.

At the hotel we explained what had happened and they were kind enough to call us another cab. They also made sure the driver knew where the hotel was before they let us get into the cab. We zoomed back across the city and made it to our hotel in under 10 minutes.

Views from the balcony of our room at the Hotel Candia:


We were all beat by that time. Simone and I walked up the road to the market to get water and some snacks. We sat and talked in the hotel room for about an hour then we all went to bed. We didn’t sleep terrifically well because the air conditioning didn’t work very well, but as Simone observed, at least we got to sleep lying down.

The next morning we had breakfast at the hotel then caught a cab back to the Athens airport. We were early for our flight so we sat in the waiting area and watched people going back and forth. The funniest person – to me, anyway – was “Mr. Greece”, a guy wearing white designer jeans, a white muscle shirt with the Greek flag on the back, white leather shoes, and a “man purse” that clipped onto his white belt but also had a strap running around his thigh. The song “YMCA” started running through my mind when I saw him.

Ours was a small domestic flight to Naxos so we caught a “tropical air conditioned” bus (i.e. windows down) across the tarmac and then walked up a steep and narrow staircase into the plane. If it was 40C outside on the tarmac then I swear it was 50C inside the plane. There were pathetic air vents over the seats which just served to circulate the hot air. The only thing we could do to cool off was grab the laminated safety card from the seat pockets and fan ourselves.

The flight to Naxos was only 30 minutes and I swear it was still 50C inside when we landed. We were all glad to get out of the plane into the 40C heat. We collected our luggage and caught a cab to our hotel, Hotel Grotta.

Hotel Grotta:

The owner, Dmitrious, gave us a warm welcome. He escorted us to the dining room and served us a local liqueur made from the leaves of lemon trees. While we were sipping the liqueur and looking at books about Naxos he moved our luggage to our room.

We freshened up, girded ourselves for the heat, and then walked down to the town to check things out and to pick up the tickets for our boat passage to Amorgos on the 27^th. The town has a lovely harbour-front promenade, filled with shops and restaurants catering to locals and tourists alike. The day’s octopus catch hung on laundry lines in front of many restaurants.

We found the agency where we could pick up our boat tickets but they insisted on seeing our passports before issuing the tickets. We’d locked our passports in the hotel safe, so we asked what time the agency closed (midnight) and left.

Curious about the Old Town and Kastro, we walked up some twisty alleys toward the hilltop. Many of the homeowners in the alleys used the front room of their homes to sell merchandise, mostly touristy things. We went up and up and around and over and finally found ourselves at the lower entrance to the Kastro.

Homes and church in Old Town:

We were drained from the heat, so rather than continue our exploration we decided to head back down to the promenade for snacks, drinks, and a rest.

Turret of the Kastro:

We got fantastically lost so it took us nearly 45 minutes to find our way back to the promenade. We actually exited the Old Town close to our hotel and had to walk another 10 minutes back to the promenade. Once there we settled into a table in a café that had massive fans blowing mist over the sitting area. Mom and Simone had fruit salad and I enjoyed a beer and a meat and cheese pastry dish.

Afternoon snacks and drinks:

Feeling refreshed – but also tired – we walked back to the hotel and had a nap. All three of us slept soundly and didn’t wake up until 7pm. We washed up and walked down to the promenade, picked up our boat tickets, and then found a table at a restaurant called Meze Meze that is recommended by Lonely Planet.

Calamaris drying in front of Meze Meze:

The waiter seated us at a table by the road. We were worried about traffic and asked for a seat inside but he insisted we sit there. We soon found out why. The traffic ceased almost completely at 8pm and the road filled up with locals out for an evening stroll. It was – as he said – the best seat in the restaurant.

We ordered a local specialty called dakos to start. It is fried bread topped with generous amounts of tomato and feta cheese. Mom and Simone shared risotto with seafood and I had cucumber salad and swordfish, accompanied by a small carafe of retsina. Everything was delicious, just as Lonely Planet promised.

At about 10pm we left the restaurant and wandered down the harbour road with about 500 other people. We briefly watched traditional Greek dancers performing in a small square. However, the real joy of the walk was the people-watching. We eventually made our way back to the hotel and enjoyed a good night’s sleep.

Sunset over Temple of Apollo and Grotta Beach:

This morning Simone woke early and went for a run. As she ran by two young Greek men they knelt down on the road as if they were proposing marriage. When she stopped for a rest later in her run an old Greek man waved her over and wanted to talk. Friendly folk, here in the Aegean.

The buffet breakfast put on by the hotel was fabulous. The fruit was especially delicious. We all marveled that it actually has a taste, unlike much of the fruit we buy at home.

After breakfast we walked up to the Kastro for a walking tour, only to learn that there was no tour scheduled today. We went on a self-guided tour instead and quite enjoyed ourselves.

Alleyways in Old Town:

Sleepy kitty in the Kastro:

Time for a photo, uh, rest after walking up the stairs to the Kastro:

We once again went down to the promenade in the early afternoon for a snack and drinks. When we got back to the hotel Mom and I went downstairs for a swim in the pool while Simone went to the dining room to write postcards.

View of the promenade from the other side of the harbour:

Simone and Mom along the promenade:

This evening we’re planning to walk to the unfinished Temple of Apollo, or portara, an arch erected on a small island that’s accessible by a man-made footpath. After that we’ll go for dinner at the restaurant below the temple, which is supposed to serve good fish.

11am Tuesday, April 18, 2006 Victoria

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.

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.

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.

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.