My Easter Egg

[It seems cruelly ironic that the week I resolved to be a better blogger, Blogger experienced some technical issues.  My last post briefly disappeared, though I'm glad to see it back.  Comments seem to have vanished for good, though.]

Would you know what a peripatetic museum curator/interpreter wears to meetings?  Behold my green Karen Walker dress, bought in Auckland in lieu of an Easter egg.  More long-lasting than chocolate and also a very pretty souvenir of New Zealand.

Unfortunately, I wore this outfit to a meeting on a very cold winter's night.  The vest underneath it and the jacket over it, not to mention the tights, were not warm enough to protect me from the chill - so the Easter egg may have to wait for another outing until I'm back in warmer climes.

Overheard: Ponsonby Road, Auckland

EDITED TO ADD:
If you were denied access to the youtube video, then you should be able to listen to the sample here.
And if that doesn't work ... you're clever, you'll figure something out.


***


In which Hints to Lady Travellers introduces a new feature* and figures out how to get more singing on this blog.


Where: Ponsonby Rd, Ponsonby, Auckland
When: a sunny, late-summer Saturday afternoon
What: the Henry Mancini/Police mashup that takes a song I don't particularly like and renders it a billion times cooler.
Effect: made me walk along the road with more of a strut in my step.
Historical note: my parents had (and may still have) a Henry Mancini record (I think it must have been a 'best of'); I recall lying on my tummy in the sitting room listening to the original theme from Peter Gunn, so this also hits my personal nostalgia button.





*so you can expect to see it every Wednesday/sporadically/never again because I will forget that I intended to make this a regular thing - delete as appropriate

Waiheke + Wine = Win

I'm catching up on the backlog of posts.  One of these days, I'll even get round to posting pictures of Toronto from last December.  (I'm almost certain I was there, but my memories are very hazy and jetlaggy.)  But first I have to clear out the more recent adventures.  So, let me see, the Sunday before last I decided to visit a mildly tropical island in Auckland Harbour - Waiheke (excellent tropical name, no?)

Because I was on my own and didn't feel like cycling or driving, I signed up for a wine tour - yes, that's right, a tropical island with wine.

This was an excellent way to spend the day: 
admiring the scenery, admiring the wine,

admiring the scenery with a glass of wine in hand 

(This was Te Phau: delicious wine, by the way.)

And look - it wasn't my imagination (or the wine) there were some llamas there too.

I did get a little sunburnt, but this was a small price to pay for a lovely day.

Sparrow Love

Lifting my head up from the day I've dubbed 'six diagrams before lunch' (either you'll get it, or you won't) to post a photo.


If you take a glance around this site, it quickly becomes clear that Lady Traveller, she loves the sparrows.  So I love this note I spotted on a window in Auckland:

Auckland Round Up

This past week has mostly been about work, work, work.  But I managed to squeeze in a few Lady Traveller experiences in between times.


My first feijoa - smells like strawberry bubblegum, but tastes like a cross between a banana, a kiwi and a pomegranate.  Quite extraordinary.





Auckland War Memorial Museum dressed in crimson on the national day of mourning for the victims of the Christchurch Earthquake - note the appropriately dramatic stormy sky.





La Cigale French Market in Parnell for breakfast on a sunny morning.

St Kevin's Arcade on K (Karangahape) Road, where I poked in the cool vintage shops and admired the Art Deco ironwork.

Cocktail Hour

Design*Sponge's guide to Auckland recommended Housebar at DeBrett's hotel for its cocktails in/and Art Deco surrounds.  I went for a walk this evening and, wandering along High St, I passed DeBrett's and decided that the evening just called out for a cocktail and a little Art Deco appreciation.


Behold, Housebar's Parisienne Tourist (elderflower liqueur, lemon juice, Pelorus), as enjoyed by this Irlandaise Tourist:

Thinking of Christchurch

Travelling makes the world bigger and smaller, in different ways.  Bigger because of the wealth of experiences, the colour and interest of the differences between people and places.  Smaller because instead of thinking of places 'over there' (ober dere as The Adorable Nephew would say) through other people's stories and images, I have my own memories to draw on.

When I heard about the earthquake that hit Christchurch yesterday, it got me right in the solar plexus.  A year ago this would have been somewhere 'over there', now it's somewhere I've experienced first-hand.  When I blogged about visiting the city in December, I was struck by its pleasant greenness, its tranquility, its niceness; the quiet strength of a city getting on with rebuilding after a huge earthquake.

Seeing photos of the cathedral in ruins yesterday made me cry.  It's almost impossible to reconcile my memories of it at evensong, serene and beautiful, with the images of the collapsed spire, the rubble on the ground and the stories of people trapped inside.  It was a source of peace and comfort to me on a day when I really needed that - and I can't believe it's gone.

And if I feel like this - what must it be like for people there?

Tales of the South Pacific

I made an exciting discovery this week.  I have always wanted to visit the South Pacific - inspired by the movie of the musical in all its glorious technicolour (no sniggering back there: aside from having the BEST tunes, South Pacific is a Pulitzer Prize-winning survey of racial and social conflict among people thrown together by war).


Anyway, whaddya know, it turns out New Zealand is in the South Pacific.  It is part of Polynesia, the south-west corner of the Polynesian triangle (the other corners are Hawaii and Easter Island).

With this discovery came a lesson in pronunciation.  It's not Ton-gah, it's Tong-ah (the 'g' is barely there); Sam-oah is actually Saam-OOa.  Niue is said New-ee.  (Okay, no, I'd never heard of it before now either.)

And I loved learning that the Maori have a complicated system of genealogy that relates, in part, to your ancestral waka (canoe) - or, as I understand it, the ship you came in on.  A bit like people in the US priding themselves on having ancestors who were on the Mayflower.

So picture me, in the South Pacific, skipping around singing Bali Ha'i and you pretty much have my week.

ps when I googled 'South Pacific' for pictures, this turned up.  I thought it would be mean to deprive my audience of this picture of that guy from Glee as Lieutellan Cable, sans shirt:


(image via broadway.tv)

Mirrors

A conversation threw up a passing reference to European settlers' naming habits in the New World.  Far away from home, the travellers looked for mirrors of their familiar places and landmarks ... so the Southern Alps get called the Southern Alps, for example.  All of this made me think about mirrors and reminded me of these pictures I took in New Zealand before Christmas.

The science part (as Jennifer Aniston, God bless her, would say) is that glacier lakes tend to be particularly still (I can't remember why - perhaps because they aren't fed by rivers/springs like other lakes?) and so you get amazing reflections.

Right Here, Right Now

So, where are you right now, Eithne?  I'm in New Zealand.

Narrow it down a little, can't you?  All right, I'm in Auckland.  I'm sitting by the open window of my hotel room and for the last hour I've been watching the sky.  And before that I was drinking a very nice glass of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, crying salty tears into it as I watched the final ever episode of Gilmore Girls.

I usually am pretty good about going out and exploring when I'm travelling for work, but I have to say I draw the line at sitting by myself in a restaurant on Valentine's Day ....  Plus, I'm pretty exhausted, having arrived here late last night/early this morning for work.  I had only a few hours' sleep and then a full day of meetings but there are some compensations:

1. bright sunshine all day
2. having the foresight to download my favourite tv to my laptop before I left Australia
3. a glass of wine and a Reese's peanut butter cup (so wrong and yet so right)

I didn't really have all that much to share, but I just really wanted to update my blog.  

Christchurch

After a day in the car, I was a little bit dazed and confused when I reached Christchurch. So much so that it took a little while for my brain to process the significance of all the barriers, ‘No Entry’ signs and evidence of construction. My first thought was ‘oh, they must be doing some major roadworks.’ And then I remembered … ‘oh yes, because they had that huge earthquake.’ That’s right.

I will say though (and this was particularly on my mind because I saw footage of Haiti on the news last night) that – and not to belittle the suffering the Cantabrians (for that is what the locals are called) have unquestionably endured – that Christchurch and Haiti are an object lesson in the different effects of natural disasters in the developed and developing world. Yes, several roads in the cty centre are closed to traffic and many buildings have scaffolding around them. But for all that, the city remains a charming place to walk around on a summer’s evening.

Before I went, someone told me that Christchurch reminds them of Cambridge (the one in England). Yes, there’s something to this, given that the local university appears to have been modelled on Oxbridge and punting is a popular pasttime. For me, though, it was more like the city founders had taken their favourite elements of England, dropped them in a blender and announced that the result would be known as Christchurch.

At the centre of the city is the Anglican cathedral and I happened to be passing by as the bells were ringing for evensong. And, you know, going to evensong was just exactly what I felt like doing at that moment so I went in. The choir was good (men and boys) and they sang some lovely Byrd and also an anthem by someone called Adrian Batten, a Jacobean composer. I love evensong because its form seems so perfectly fitted to its function: its all about closing the day, asking for rest and peace. And while the last week has been stimulating and interesting, I can’t say it’s been particularly restful. So I did ask for peace and felt very rested afterwards.

(The clergy at the cathedral were headsets/microphones a la Britney Spears. I found this somewhat disconcerting.)

After the service I walked to the river Avon and hoped fervently to see some punters but alas there were none.

I did see Captain Cook, though, and Queen Victoria who stands with her back turned firmly to him.

And that’s about all I had time for. Lovely way to spend a Sunday evening, though.

Road Trup

Brace yourselves: this (as advertised) is going to be epic. Four days, 1000 km, many hair-raising roads.

Among other things I did after visiting the glacier on Wednesday was to make a couple of cds for the rest of the trip. So you can enter into the spirit of things, here’s the playlist I dubbed Road Trup.

Big Yellow Taxi – Joni Mitchell

Birdhouse in Your Soul – They Might be Giants

Born to Run – Bruce Springsteen

Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa – Vampire Weekend

Cruel to be Kind – Letters to Cleo

Dela – Johnny Clegg

Devil Town – Tony Lucca

Distant Sun – Crowded House

For Me, Formidable – Charles Aznavour

Galway Girl – Sharon Shannon & Mundy

Here’s Where the Story Ends – Tin Tin Out

Iko Iko – Cyndi Lauper

Ma’ Cheri – Freshlyground

My Baby Just Cares for Me – Nina Simone

Never Forget You – Noisettes

Stay (Faraway, So Close) – U2

This Kiss – Faith Hill

Tiny Dancer – Elton John

Let the River Run – Carly Simon

10,000 Miles – Mary Chapin Carpenter

This playlist is my uber-road trip soundtrack. Every song on it reminds me of another trip, somewhere else. For example, Distant Sun (besides the fact that I couldn’t have an NZ road trip without Crowded House) reminds me of a trip to France with university friends, driving along the autoroutes in the Bus of Dreams. This Kiss and Here’s Where the Story Ends are both from the Great Australian Adventure of 2001. For Me, Formidable is Greece last year and 10,000 Miles is the song I always think of when I’m on my way home.

So with my playlists ready to go, I got in the little car and headed south. Forests, ferns, palm trees and occasional glimpses of dramatic cliffs and sea, as far as Haast. Filled up with petrol (last petrol station for 100km) and then turned east along the Haast Pass. This is an alpine pass cutting through the Southern Alps south of Mount Cook. Stunning snow-topped mountains and turquoise lakes. Also many cows. Also many twisty-turny ups and downs limiting my ability to take in the views. Also many tour buses defying laws of gravity – how do they get round those roads? How? I pulled over at a place called Cameron Flats to eat my lunch picnic and enjoy the mountains.

Got to beautiful Wanaka at about 2 and had a restorative coffee and a cookie and a little walk around before going a little further south to Cardrona. The boutique B&B where I stayed (I (and my budget) like to mix things up: youth hostel one night, 1000 thread count sheets the next) was in the middle of nowhere, with a pine forest on one side and a paddock full of sheep on the other.

I can recommend Waiorau Homestead unreservedly – friendly hosts who served me afternoon tea in the garden and cracked open a bottle of pinot noir in the evening. They suggested I take the Cardrona road to Queenstown – the highest public road in New Zealand, they announced proudly.

On Friday I discovered what, exactly, this entailed. High, yes. And narrow. And with two types of turn: right angle turns where the ground dropped away to nothing on either side or the hairiest of hair-pin bends. For someone who struggles a bit with a fear of heights (call it discomfort rather than acute fear) and was also trying to work out how best to tackle this kind of road with an automatic transmission the experience was … well, I was very glad when I was safely down the other side, put it that way.

When I saw the sign for Historic Arrowtown I decided it would be a good idea to park the car and explore a little while my nerves calmed down. And look how pretty it is!

I then went on to Queenstown, mostly due to several people having told me I shouldn’t miss it … honestly, I think I could have missed it. It’s very touristy so I didn’t stay long, just to have a coffee. I will admit it was amusing to see (as I sat in the 3^rd floor café) a paraglider swooping past the window.

Back on the road, this time to a soundtrack of Christmas songs. Loving the surrealism of belting Baby, It’s Cold Outside while driving in hot sunshine. Stopped at Clyde for lunch. This was a Lonely Planet recommendation, and it was a good one. Clyde is perfectly charming and was extremely quiet …

... until the air-raid siren went off. Apparently several fire stations in New Zealand employ WWII sirens because the volunteer firefighters are off-site and need something particularly loud to muster them.

Next leg: Clyde to Milton, where I stopped to buy a coke. Milton is an unremarkable (even ugly) town, but it is notable for one thing: at 46 degrees south, it marks the farthest point south I’ve ever been in my life.

At Milton, the road (Route 1) bends back north to Dunedin. I was staying on the Otago Peninsula, which is beautiful. Though the roads are like roads in Donegal. Steep, narrow, winding. But the views - !

I stayed for two nights at Larnach Castle (more precisely, in the former stables of the castle) a Victorian castle/folly. Try to imagine a Victorian baronial pile transplanted to the South Seas. Have you got a picture in your head? Does it look like this? Castle with verandah and palm trees.

(This is the view from the roof of the castle.)

On Friday evening I went to Portobello, heading towards the tip of the Peninsula and had excellent fish and chips sitting on a bench looking out at the bay. On Saturday, after a tour of the castle (incredible, has to be seen to be believed) I went into Dunedin. The most Scottishest city outside Scotland, though not the most thrilling. After a poke into Octagon Books (voted one of the best ten bookshops in the world) and a great coffee at Mazagran Espresso on Moray Place and a quick chat with Robert Burns, I decided to go back to Larnach and have an afternoon siesta.

In the late afternoon I went to Sandfly Bay to see if I could see some golden eyed penguins but they’re shy and I didn’t.

I did see this guy, though, who gave me quite a shock since I thought he was a pile of smelly driftwood. (My mind was elsewhere.)

Sunday was another long drive – Dunedin to Christchurch. 400km of pleasant but undistinguished scenery, some impressively bad driving (I’m looking at you Miss Black Audi overtaking me and the truck in front of me, blithely disregarding the single yellow DO NOT OVERTAKE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES line and the fact that you were on the incline of a humpback bridge and clearly hadn’t realised that there was a slow moving vintage car in front of the truck) and many cows.

Got to Christchurch in the late afternoon and dropped the car off at the airport. Goodbye little Hyundai. You held up for me, despite the fact that you hated hills and made your protest known by refusing to go faster than 70km when they presented themselves.

So there you have it: my New Zealand odyssey. I will post some Christchurch pictures tomorrow … it’s a very pretty place and I think it deserves it own entry.

Yours full of contrition for prolonged absence,

THE AUTHOR

Consequences

(Eithne)

met

(Robert Burns)

in

DUNEDIN.

She said to him:

'Oh Robert, I had such good intentions to post about my New Zealand adventures and, you know, do this whole Advent thing ... but I haven't had internet access for days plus I'm so sleepy from driving all over New Zealand.'

He said to her:

'But did it never occur to you Eithne that undertaking this Advent project while you were running all over New Zealand might be biting off a little more than you could chew?'

She said to him:

'Well, okay, in HINDSIGHT, yes, but I've always been about the triumph of optimism over experience.'

He said to her:

'Hey! This reminds me of a poem. 'The best laid plans o' mice an' men gang oft agley, And leave us naught but grief and pain for promised joy.'

She said to him:

!@£$%^&*()

The Consequences were:

Eithne realised she might have to scale back on this Advent project and also that she might not be posting as often as she should because it turns out it's not that easy to manage in the wilds of New Zealand. On the other hand, she has been taking LOTS of photos of her trip and undertakes to post an EPIC road trip story before she leaves the country (Tuesday evening, local time.)

Epilogue:

Robbie: Will we no' have a wee shag, for auld lang syne?

Eithne: Robert, my mother reads this blog.