What is Earth From Down Under

Earth from Down Under is a blog about our twice in a lifetime retirement visits to the Antipodes with stops in Hawai'i. To stay in touch with friends and family while on our trip, we will post updates as often as possible. (Click on the photos to enlarge them for the full effect.)



Friday, December 30, 2011

Hamilton with 'Mates'

Chris's NZ Santa

We are in Hamilton staying with our mates, Chris and Rosanna. Duncan roomed with Chris and was his best man at his wedding too long ago. One of life’s pleasures is meeting up with friends from the past and finding that in spite of all the time that has passed, we can still enjoy each others’ company so much. Chris has a unique sense of humour, even for a Kiwi, and we are entertained by his battery operated Santa – almost life-sized and his All Blacks Teddy bear that recites the Maori haka. Rosanna says, “Who needs a child around when you have Chris!” He and Rosanna have found their ideal place in the world, a small holding (farm) where they have chooks wandering the garden and where they can see their horses up close from the picture window of their family room.
Sign outside Chris and Rosanna's entrance

Chris can also be a serious fellow, particularly when it comes to his life’s passion – race horses.  He has far fewer horses than when we were last here, much to Rosanna’s relief, I believe, but he is every bit as enthusiastic when talking about them.  He has created an interactive video on the history of horse racing in NZ that one can view at Hamilton airport and at the wonderful Te Papa Museum in Wellington, NZ. During our visit one of his three foals has an operation on a twisted leg in the front paddock; Duncan being squeamish about anything medical doesn’t volunteer to witness the on the spot surgery.

We also meet Kevin, who heads up the NZ Duke of Edinburgh Awards, a very friendly fellow, who marvels at the changes in today’s world. He witnessed the birth of a grandchild and tells us of this milestone in his life. His description is suitably graphic – I have no trouble imagining the event. He is in town for the day to meet with Chris who represents the Hamilton area on the board of directors.

Rosanna throws a wonderful international party the evening of our arrival, a NZ shindig with roast ham and pumpkin and meringue roulade made by her best friend, Jan. Jan’s husband is a hiker and has walked many of the trails in NZ so we find we have lots to talk about with him. Jan has an infectious Kiwi sense of humour, and we add her funny Christmas card to our Kiwi humour collection.
Jan's Christmas card

The oldest daughter Michelle and her husband Martin and new baby Rory are at the party too. Rory, three months old, charms us all with his huge eyes. Also in attendance is an American law professor who is at the law faculty at Waikato University where Rosanna works and his Canadian wife from Ottawa.  When I ask how long they will be in NZ, she replies, “As long as our supply of maple syrup holds out.” I can relate to that, I can’t imagine life without maple syrup after living in Canada for over thirty years.

Chris and Rosanna offer us their bach in Raglan so the next day we head over to the west coast with its black (volcanic) sand beaches. We stop in the town centre for coffee at the eponymous Black Sands Cafe, another contender in the flat white contest – a strong contender because of their timely message on the sandwich board outside, “I’m dreaming of a flat-white Christmas”. Their flat white definitely warrants serious consideration.

The bach is beautifully finished inside with golden glowing rimu wood counters and floors, and it’s a pleasure to spend a few hours here reading and blogging. Because it is only one hour from Hamilton, Chris and Rosanna come quite often and their adult children enjoy it frequently too. Chris says all the Speight beer bottles in the recycling box can be attributed to their son, Richard, who is in the UK with his soon-to-be fiancée. The big excitement this year apart from the birth of their first grandchild three months ago is that Richard has bought an engagement ring for the British girl he met here.

The next morning we are awoken by strains of animated conversation coming from Chris’s office. As it is around 7 a.m. I can’t imagine that Chris is busy doing deals so early. We find out at breakfast that their daughter-in- law to be accepted the ring, and her father has given his blessing to the imminent match. Richard, a real romantic unlike his father (Rosanna’s words), proposed at a spot of significance to his wife to be, in Newquay, Cornwall.  Richard is the only one of Chris and Rosanna’s offspring I haven’t met, but given his degree of amorous forethought, I know I’d be sure to like him. The second daughter Elizabeth is also in the UK this Christmas. She is doing her OE (overseas experience) with her fiancé, James. They stayed with us in Toronto in May on their way to find teaching jobs in central London. It’s been hard on Elizabeth to be away during the birth of her first nephew and her mum wonders if she will come home earlier than anticipated.

Luckily for us, Chris and Rosanna welcomed us just days before Christmas and are very relaxed because two of their children are away. I think they enjoy our company all the more as they are missing them and our visit is a cause to celebrate. Rosanna says that even though she’s been in NZ for over thirty years, it just doesn’t seem like Christmas when the weather is warm. She envies her children being in the UK, land of traditional Christmas celebrations. My sister-in-law also mentioned that she loved Christmas time in London when she lived there because Englishness is so much a part of the NZ culture. Many New Zealanders of her generation grew up on Dickens and stories of plum pudding and roast goose. For this reason many New Zealanders eat the traditional ham or turkey with all the trimmings in spite of the hoped for high temperatures.

On our last morning we return to Maungatautari Nature Preserve. We visited here with Chris two years ago, but it was early in our first trip to NZ, and we couldn’t tell the difference between a pukeko and a takahe at that time. We want to test ourselves now to see if we recognize some of the birds and their respective calls. We have luck with the tui and the bellbird, but we don’t hear or see much else.  We savour our last NZ hike through this little bit of rainforest paradise at the top of an eroded volcano. We’ve opted to enter at the north side of the mount rather than the south where visitors find most of the action. However we are in luck, because when we stop to take a time delay photo of ourselves to commemorate the occasion, a volunteer happens by and offers to help. She is here to count Kiwis and tells us all about how this is done. After the photo she takes us along the trail waving her antenna in the air trying to connect with Kiwis in the bush. She shows us her transmitter and explains that each Kiwi has an implanted microchip that helps her to identify each specific bird. She waves us over to a spot up the trail, and we listen as she counts the number of cries in a minute. She says the average is 28.  She tells us that the Kiwi female lays up to two tremendous huge eggs and then abandons the male to incubate it and to look after the newly hatched chick(s). Sounds like a good deal to me! A Kiwi ‘couple’ can have up to three clutches each season, but most have two. Apparently this fellow is between fatherhood stints and is taking his time to repeat the process. Kiwis are monogamous by the way.
Volunteer with her antenna and transmitter

Ever mindful of the time we head back to fetch our belongings and drive to the airport to catch our flight to Wellington for our first Kiwi Christmas. Because Chris knows practically everyone living in the area (everyone in NZ knows everyone else) we are entertained by friends he meets at the airport. Again I am struck by the friendliness of these people. At home most Toronto natives would just smile when introduced and probably not bother to mumble more than a few stock phrases. These folks want to know all about our trip and relish relating family histories of those who are soon to arrive home for Christmas.  I know I go on and on about Kiwi hospitality, but it is so warm and genuine. It melts my Canadian reserve, and I wish I could stay here forever.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Merry Christmas

Our New Zealand  Kiwi Christmas "Tree"

I'm a bit behind with the blog but taking time out for the Christmas holiday. To all followers, Duncan and I wish you the happiest of holidays. The weather here in Wellington, NZ couldn't be nicer, blue sky and temperatures in the twenties (seventies). We feel truly happy to be here.

Friday, December 23, 2011

The Mount – Mount Maunganui


After our adventure at Oariki Farm we head to Mount Maunganui or The Mount as it is known. This is the site of the disastrous oil spill in October of this year. The Rena, a Greek owned cargo ship, ran aground on the nearby Astrolabe Reef dumping tons of oil (and cases of Astrolabe label wine!) into the pristine New Zealand waters and onto beaches. This been classified as New Zealand’s worst ever maritime shipping disaster. The ship is still listing 19 degrees on the reef and in danger of cracking up causing even further damage. Currently a “salvo” (salvage) company is trying to remove as many cargo containers as possible at great personal risk to those involved in the effort.  We wonder what this area will look like when we arrive – we booked our accommodation months ago.
We’ve rented a “penthouse” apt. right at The Mount, but we find the building is only three stories high! It’s a lovely compact flat with a nice balcony and view of the Saltwater Hot Pools across the street.  Chris and Rosanna, friends we met in Montreal years ago, who now live in Hamilton, NZ are there to meet us and we share a jolly lunch. We joke that it is great to finally have friends to speak with as Duncan and I have been together constantly for the past three months.
Workers Cleaning Maunganui Beach Area


Near deserted beaches
NZ "Christmas Tree"
In the evening torrential rain beats down, but in the morning the weather clears, and we take advantage of the change to hike around and atop The Mount. It’s a beautiful Maori pa (midden) with the long discarded shells underfoot and the Pohutukawa trees lining the paths.  We hike the base and then begin the slog to the summit; this is probably our last such effort. We’re happy that after this we can pretty much retire the hiking boots.  We view some of the devastation and understand that the beaches have been cleaned up nicely. However, we still see legions of people in white coveralls painstakingly cleaning the rocks and shells that line the sand with brushes. It will be months before the cleanup is completed. There are very few people on the beach and far fewer campers in this area than usual; it seems the tourists have gone elsewhere this year. I fear the shopkeepers will really see a difference in holiday profits. There are signs warning swimmers that parts of the beaches are closed and hikers to stay off certain areas to make their efforts easier. We see a sign in a store asking customers to remove their shoes if they had been on the beach; the oil ruins the floors.  The view from the top is excellent, and we can see the dreaded Rena eight nautical miles in the distance. So sad for NZ (again) and Mount Maunganui.
Kiwis Celebrating Christmas at the Beach
We enjoy our stay in this seaside town, taking advantage of fewer people to enjoy the deck off the penthouse. After all the recent driving we are happy to put our feet up. There is a campground directly in front, and we ask some campers if we can photograph their NZ Christmas decorations. The weather gradually improves and when we leave two days later the sun is shining brightly. We’re on our way to Hamilton to stay with Chris and Rosanna for three nights before flying to Wellington for Christmas.
Christmas Lights in the Tent!

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Opotiki (Mis) Adventure – Off the Beaten Track

Maori Church at Tikitiki

Detail
After the motel at Wainui Beach I can’t help but think we’d better be scouting a new motel. I’m losing faith in the East Cape hosts. We spend the first part of the day on an inland winding road through farmland to Tikitiki where we stop just off the road on a hillside to admire a Maori church - a memorial to Maori soldiers who died in World War I. It’s a beautiful peaceful spot after a rainfall, and we’re glad we stopped to admire the elaborate red, black and white Maori carvings inside the church.

Upon reaching the coast we stop at Te Araroa, the location of the East Cape Lighthouse, the most easterly in the world. If we have time there is a famed walk here that we’d like to take, up 700 steps to the lighthouse. The East Cape of NZ is 86% Maori, and they own 86% of the land. And I am certain of one thing, about 99% of New Zealanders have never visited. The region is very sparsely populated and as on Moloka’i in Hawaii, the locals like it that way. This hamlet has a cafe, one of the few in the whole area, and a store. It also boasts the oldest (350 years) and largest Pohutukawa tree in the world. Two important world landmarks in one little hamlet, I’m suitably impressed and glad we came here.  We stop to use the public loo and note the alarming Tsunami warning sign urging the public to seek higher ground in case of an earthquake! Some local Maori youths, also at the loo, are kind enough to warn us that there is a beer bottle under our left rear tire that we might want to remove before backing up. We thank them, and they wave goodbye. We’re grateful; a flat tire in this location could be a serious problem

The only cafe is closed so we go to the Te Araroa Farmers General Store to see what we can rustle up for lunch. We select some yogurt and ice cream bars to add to the fruit we have in the car and go to the cash to pay, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone working in the store and there is no visible means of attracting attention, so we stand reading the newspaper headlines about the flooding in the Nelson area. After a short while a young Maori teen glides in silently from somewhere out back, and we mention the flooding. He tells us Te Araroa narrowly missed flooding LAST NIGHT when they experienced “torrential rain” (his words). We relate that we’ve recently come from Nelson and seem to be lucky at dodging these storms. He seems quite a gentle soul for a Maori teen and when we mention that we might take the drive to the lighthouse, he affirms that we would probably get a good view from up there today in spite of the clouds all around. He wishes us a good holiday. The people we’ve met here seem really nice.

 We decide to eat our ice cream first before heading to the lighthouse so we sit on a bench next to the rescued beer bottle and watch the world go by. We see only two girls lost in their own little world, singing and swaying to an iPod while pushing a small baby stroller. When we head for the car a frisky mixed breed puppy runs up and tries to join us in the car! It seems the Maori let their dogs run free like people did in Toronto before the poop and scoop laws were legislated. Throughout NZ we’ve seen signs forbidding dogs from public parks, beaches, coastal areas etc. Compared to the rest of the world, New Zealanders are not “dog crazy”. In our Toronto Beach neighbourhood alone, we have two dog bakeries, a dog day care, numerous dog beauty parlors, a dog taxi service and a dog funeral parlour “Pets at Peace”. It’s a bit “over the top” if you ask me. I like dogs but hey, they have their place.
We start to drive up the hill at the edge of town to reach the lighthouse.  When we reach the end of the sealed road and see a vivid orange sign warning us the distance is 20 km. to be driven at a speed of 20 km per hour,  we chicken out and back all the way back down the hill to a point where we can turn around.  We’ve had enough of these terrifying coastal roads on this trip, and I wonder what we’d do if we met anyone coming down the cliffhanging road since we only have a 2WD vehicle. “Anyway we don’t have two hours to spare,” Duncan remarks; we have a long way to go before we sleep, I think silently.

We opt to finish our “lunch” on the driftwood strewn “beach” sitting on a beached bleached log looking out at the pounding ocean. I can easily imagine the tsunami danger here; this tiny village is backed by very high cliffs. One would probably run up that terrifying road we’ve just backed down to get to higher ground, it’s the nearest place of refuge.
Coastal Pohutukawa








Pohutakawa Flower


We miss the only other tourist attraction in Te Araroa, the Maneuka Oil Factory; we decide we’ve lingered too long , and we haven’t even begun to drive this section of East Cape Highway. The views of the sea and roads lined with the coastal Pohutukawa trees in full bloom are inspiring, and I do begin to get into a Christmas frame of mine. Who needs fake decorations when the natural environment is so extraordinary? It’s interesting to note the differences between this area of NZ and everywhere else we’ve been. It reminds us of Moloka’i in Hawaii where the Polynesians want to keep their island unspoiled by tourism. There was only one scenic lookout on the entire drive, and it was too overgrown for us to see the coast across the road. There are no souvenir shops, few restaurants or cafes. We stop to see a beautiful little Anglican church at Raukokore, and it reminds us of Father Damien’s church at the leper colony on Moloka’i. The view of the pristine white frame church backed by the sea is unforgettably serene.  A notice outside the door apologizes for the “fishy smell” near the baptismal font - penguins are raising their chicks underneath! Outside we peer around trying to figure out how they got there because the font is at the rear of the church furthest from the sea. Those little blue penguins amaze us once again.


We finally find a combined general store, cafe and holiday camp. Though there is a sign that warns Beware of Dog, I enter the store which is in front of a fence where I hope the dog is tethered; we see no sign of it. This is emptiest store and cafe I’ve ever been inside. A few camping supplies and canned goods line the shelves; there are freezer chests advertising commercial brands of ice cream, but these are unfilled. However the soft drinks cooler and snack food displays are reasonably well stocked, too bad I’m not in the market for these.  I ask the Maori lady of a certain age who is working in the kitchen if the cafe is open, and she replies in the affirmative, though it certainly doesn’t look like it. I order two flat whites with double shots, and she replies that she doesn’t know what that is, but she will make us two flat whites. Feeling sheepish I ask her to make the coffee strong, and she really does make decent coffee though I note that she doesn’t use her espresso machine.

A young Maori girl enters, and they discuss a work roster that the lady says she hasn’t set up yet. They tour the kitchen area, and I realize that this is probably opening day. The lady is gearing up for the Christmas rush when people come to camp and fish; the young girl mentions that she got her sunburn when fishing for eels. This location seems as remote from the rest of New Zealand as it could possibly be. I ask the lady how long it will take us to drive to Opotiki (Maoris pronounce it O POR ti key). I laugh at her reply as I exit the store, “It will take YOU about two hours to drive.” I wonder how long it would take her!

Realignment
I take the wheel of our sporty red Peugot and enjoy driving for an hour and a half until I reach the site of the Maraenui Realignment where there has been a slide caused by an earthquake about five years ago and the road is under reconstruction. Luckily it is Sunday and there is little traffic, because while looking out for heavy vehicles to which I must “give way”, we must drive 2 km on a rough gravel road that wraps the mountain and narrows to one lane in places. I feel a rush of relief when we come to a sealed road again and can enjoy even more twists and turns on to Opotiki, remembering that Duncan said scenic drives in NZ are always windy.
In checking our arrangements for tonight, Duncan realizes that the owner of Oariki Farm asked us to confirm the reservation, and he would send us detailed directions to his “secluded location”. We never received the directions, but we have Google directions that send us to a main road in Opotiki, and we look out wearily for his Oariki Farm sign; it’s been a long day.

It’s raining and approaching dusk and the directions are unhelpful so Duncan goes into a small 4 Square Supermarket to see if anyone can direct us. He is in the store for about fifteen minutes so I know there must be a problem. By the time he comes out, it is raining even harder and getting dark. The good news is the clerk was able to contact the farmhouse, the bad news is  that I must drive (it’s still my turn) 30 km back along the road we just came on past that dreaded stretch of tortuous gravel. Thirty km back means another forty five minutes, and I must negotiate the Maraenui Realignment in the dark this time. If it weren’t for the fact that we’ve also booked dinner, I think we would have checked into the nearest motel in Opotiki, but I picture the disappointed wife with her uneaten dinners so back we go.  We can’t let these nice Kiwis down.
Beach Along the Farm Track
Our revised instructions tell us to turn at the school, go all the way down to the beach, turn left and follow the road to the end. Oariki Farm is at the beach! I manage all that but turn toward the local Marae  (Maori meeting hall) because that seems to be one of the only buildings around on this isolated beach. Duncan says, “No, she said turn LEFT at the beach”. So we turn and head down the deserted track trying to find this farm. We pass a house on our left that is obviously not a farm, the rain increases in intensity with the road becoming even harder to drive; at one point it’s very nearly a sea of mud. Duncan yells “Don’t keep going. Stop!” and I yell, “I have to keep going there is no bloody place to turn around!” Meanwhile the ocean is thundering on the too near beach and black mounds of driftwood give this place an eerie sinister air. In the distance I see a car approaching and I have no place to go. Exasperated I say, “That’s it. I give up.  You drive!” and I exit the car in the pouring rain. Duncan jumps out to flag down the approaching SUV to see if the driver can provide directions to the elusive farm cottage. The driver leaps out and shakes Duncan’s hand. I can’t help but think, boy these Kiwis are so friendly and helpful, even in a rainstorm on a lonely track. It turns out the man is Chris Stone, the farmer renting us the cottage, and showing concern because we hadn’t arrived, he came out to look for us! He whips his SUV around and continues up the track with us behind - through the gate, up a steep gravel slope.  We veer left and enter a beautiful garden. How did this oasis appear at the end of this deserted track? It seems we are at the end of the earth. I exit from the car with, “Well this is an adventure!” and the jovial Kiwi laughs and shakes my hand too.  He says he put dinner on about half an hour ago and to get settled and come over to the house. His farmhouse cottage is really a holiday house that sleeps seven! How do I find these places? I seem to remember there was a dearth of cottage accommodation in the area.
Oariki Farm Cottage
After my shower we head over for dinner to the welcoming farmhouse and Chris entreats us to help ourselves to cheese and crackers while he pours generous glasses of NZ wine. He is on his own here tonight; he explains that his wife died sixteen years ago and his current partner is working in Rotorua and will be away a few days. Well “good on him” for being such a capable host in such an unlikely place. We pass a very enjoyable evening with Chris surmising that he is in his seventies, having emigrated from North Finchley in the fifties when he was in his teens. He hasn’t been back to the UK since, though he has been in BC, up to Alaska and down to Mexico, where he was robbed twice by the police! I can’t help wondering again why Kiwis travel at all. They have everything they need right home and it’s a lot safer... except for the earthquakes.
Duncan trying to understand directions from Chris

Sunday, December 18, 2011

On the Road to Gisborne

John and Iris with their Christmas Tree
The sun is shining brightly the next morning and though it is a little too cool to eat on the verandah, we enjoy another stellar breakfast with the glass patio doors open wide to let in a slight breeze. After breakfast we visit John’s Art Loft Studio above the garage. Their entire house is filled with original works of art and beautiful decorative items, including seasonal Christmas ones. They’ve done their utmost to get us in the mood for the impending holiday. In fact their house shows the first signs of Christmas we’ve seen in our accommodation on this trip. They’ve played Christmas carols on their iPod throughout our stay, and John even practised some tunes on his bagpipes in preparation for an upcoming local concert. We’re doing our best but it still seems unreal - Christmas in the summertime.
John in his Studio
Up in John’s studio we admire his paintings and Iris’s photos of their travels. Yesterday we enjoyed viewing more of her work including photos of their most recent trip to the western USA and two books she created on the computer with My Publisher. John is currently working on a commission for some American friends from the Pacific Northwest who arrive next week. We reluctantly say our goodbyes and shop for lunch and dinner in Havelock E. before heading to the Gisborne area where we will stay in a “bach” at Wainui Beach. We’re sure the shops in this “fruit orchard of NZ” will provide a wider selection of gourmet items.

Duncan is navigating more twists and turns, on another New Zealand “scenic drive” while I attempt to blog looking straight ahead to avoid nausea. Touch typing was the best class I took in high school. I can look at the road and type at the same time. There may be a few more typos than usual though.

Our prebooked accommodation at Wainui Beach in a “bach” has fallen through. This is the first time we’ve been disappointed after travelling for a total of six months in the South. The man who agreed to rent us his bach for the night has tenants in it. He manages the Gisborne Youth Hostel and agrees to put us up there, but like staying in mountain huts when hiking,  hostels were for younger days. To be fair he offers to pay for a motel for the night so we head to the Ocean Beach Motel in Wainui. This is our first NZ motel experience, and this appears to be the only game in town in this hamlet. It has all “mod cons”, and we can do our laundry so we’re not complaining. We walk to the exquisite beach, and Duncan asks if those are sharks he sees in a line in the distance. “No, those are NZ surfers in their wetsuits!” I reply. The ocean is colder here than in Australia and Hawaii so we don’t see the brightly decorated board shorts so popular in the other venues.

This beach is the first to “see the sunrise” in the world and is the site of the Wines and Vines Concert on New Year’s Eve when the town swells from several hundred to up to 25,000 people for the all night party. The girl in the tourist information office told us that some organization  rated it as the second best New Year’s Eve party in the world after Paris! Looking around in Gisborne we wonder who was doing the rating.

We set the alarm to see the sunrise on the advice of the receptionist in the motel, but alas it’s raining in the morning so we go back to bed. Too bad.

Havelock North

Havelock North
Elegant Breakfast at Art Loft B&B
We’ve now visited two Havelocks in New Zealand. Havelock, the aquaculture centre of the South Island  (featuring green mussels), and now Havelock North, on the North Island. The towns are poles apart in terms of size and focus. Havelock North is a bustling visibly prosperous town, like Nelson only much smaller. It is very near Napier, the city that was leveled by an earthquake in 1931 and completely rebuilt in the Art Deco style in a relatively short time. The buildings have held up very well and many are now designated as heritage properties. Napier is a distinctive town that holds an Art Deco Festival every year in January. From what I can gather, this event is similar to the Henley Regatta or Glyndborne in the UK where people dress to the nines, have elaborate picnics, drink copious quantities of champagne from flutes and enjoy having their photos taken.
We arrive at the Art Loft B & B in the early evening where we’ve arranged to share one of Iris and John Spittle’s delicious dinners. Our last visit we did the same for our first night and went out the second night to a restaurant in Hastings. This time we opt to eat with them both nights as their cooking far surpasses the usual restaurant fare. They returned only five days earlier from a five week house exchange in Sedona, Arizona and share their experiences and Iris’s photos over hors d’oeuvres and glasses of Hawkes Bay wine. It’s great to see them again, and we’re grateful that they agreed to have us stay so close to their return and the Christmas season. They must have been rushing around decorating the day before as their home looks appropriately seasonal. Theirs was one of the first B & Bs we visited on our last visit, and we remember it well. Our exquisite ensuite bathroom has a glass ceiling through which I saw the stars, I’ll never forget that experience.
Unfortunately no stars this visit because the weather turns cloudy then stormy at night, but we don’t mind having a quiet time while here. Apparently Nelson had torrential rain last night and the small town of Collingwood in Golden Bay we recently visited, was cut off by floods so we aren’t complaining. The following day after a delicious breakfast of fruit juice, muesli, fresh seasonal fruit, poached egg on wholegrain toast spread with spicy salsa (a nice touch), bacon and freshly ground coffee, we decide to follow the Havelock North “Food Trail”, if you can fathom that!
To work up an appetite we head into the heart of town to browse in the shops for an hour or two before eating a modest lunch at Adam and Eva’s (clever Kiwis). We enjoy salads, flat whites with double shots and share a small mince tart with whipped cream on the side.
This is a town for women who like “bling”. The boutiques are full of smart summer ensembles each dramatically accessorized with necklaces, handbags, scarves etc. ostensibly to tempt one to buy the whole ensemble. Probably due to the town’s level of prosperity and its proximity to Napier, locals and tourists keep the shopkeepers here happy, I’m sure. The women in town are very well dressed; I’m tiring of my black jeans and white shirts, perhaps I should reinvent myself.
 After lunch we follow Iris’s advice, visiting local farms cultivating limes and olives. I’m not sure what to expect at St. Andrew’s Limes, but I don’t mind buying a couple of limes; we can always squeeze the juice on fish or chicken. Well, I’m in for a surprise. The friendly lady who greets us, pulls out bottles of lime dressing, hot and mild lime pickle, lime chutneys, both date and peach varieties, and a lime splash with the secret ingredient she reveals is fish sauce. We purchase a bottle of lime salad dressing, and I remark that we probably won’t be able to finish it because we are nearing the end of our trip and our opportunities for self-catering. She replies, “I bet you will! Put it on fish, chicken, asparagus, potatoes, salad, anything really.” She’s right, we’ll probably finish it, I was thinking of using it in such a limited way, and she is positively inspirational. She helpfully provides directions to Telegraph Hill, olive farm in the vicinity.
At Telegraph Hill a young woman greets us with a big smile, recites some statistics about the farm and invites us to try whatever we like from the free samples available while watching a six minute informational video. We note that we can “adopt” an olive tree for $120, and the farm will send us the produce from the tree. That sounds like fun, but would Canada Customs allow those Kiwi olives into the country? We purchase Manuka smoked olives and some olive tapenade before heading to Arataki Honey Farm. We visited here on our last trip, but we’re out of NZ honey so I taste all varieties again before deciding upon Pohutukawa – it’s Christmas after all.
That evening we enjoy another fine meal of venison meatballs in a delicious savoury sauce with seasonal vegetables. Iris has made a semifreddo style fruit dessert and serves it with a chocolate covered biscuit as a garnish. We talk well into the evening then retire to read and blog for an hour before bed.

Friday, December 16, 2011

On to the North Island

Click below to see map:
http://maps.google.ca/maps?q=Wellington,+New+Zealand&hl=en&ll=-41.310824,174.814453&spn=12.639676,28.256836&sll=49.891235,-97.15369&sspn=21.721344,56.513672&vpsrc=6&hnear=Wellington,+New+Zealand&t=m&z=5

We said goodbye to Pat and Ian in Koromiko and caught a half hour flight from Blenheim to Wellington. Duncan decided he’d rather fly then tempt fate and risk the Interisland Ferry and the infamous Cook Strait a second time. On our first visit he swallowed some SeaLegs, motion sickness tablets but the crossing was easy and he was dopey for several hours afterward. He can’t believe he’d be so lucky a second time. So we take to the air.
Blenheim Airport Loos
(Clever Kiwis)
This is the most casual airport we’ve encountered on our entire trip. They don’t x-ray our hand luggage or pat us down; we simply walk out onto the tarmac and board the small aircraft. There are no overhead bins for the luggage so I have to cram my large backpack under my legs. Duncan has to stuff my handbag under his legs along with his smaller backpack. There is no flight attendant so the pilot walks back to check that passengers have fastened their seatbelts before takeoff. He instucts us to read the safety card and turns on a recorded message that serves to reinforce what we were instructed to read.  As the weather is a bit stormy we encounter a fair amount of turbulence, but ironically the water below looks (from the air anyway) to be quite calm. Duncan remarks that at least it will be over quickly.
Flashy Peugot
We pick up our rental car, another flashy fire engine red model, but a Peugot rather than a Ford Falcon this time. When driving on the edge of Wellington, it seems bizarre to pass through without seeing the Wood clan, and we are tempted to shock Douglas and Anna by showing up at their door a week ahead of schedule, but we have a long drive ahead and resist this impulse. We drive on Highway #2 out of town and over the mountains toward Napier. This section of the road gets the prize as the most twisting winding one on the North Island. The Peugot seems to have a mind of its own when the cruise control is activated. After a few terrifying bends with me yelling, “Slow down!” Dunc opts for peace and control and deactivates it.
Pohutukawa Tree
After a stop for lunch at the French Bakery in Greytown, a place I remember from our previous trip, we follow a straighter section of road toward Napier, listening to the iPod with the Toronto Children’s Chorus singing Christmas carols. We are trying to get in the mood and begin to imagine all of you at home rushing around finishing up (or maybe just starting) your Christmas shopping. This makes me feel a bit homesick, actually. We see so little evidence of Christmas here compared to home that the holiday seems very remote. We pass a few lots advertising the sale of “real” Christmas trees, and we assume this means some form of evergreen, but pine trees are not native so “real” doesn’t seem the appropriate moniker. Also in North America bringing evergreen boughs inside compensates for the bare branches, limited daylight and gloom of the impending winter. It just doesn’t fit here with the locals sporting jandals (flip-flops) and T-shirts. We wonder if anyone decorates Maneuka boughs or giant ferns. We know that the beautiful red flowered Pohutukawa tree is considered a “real” NZ Christmas tree because it blooms at Christmas time, but this species is too big to bring inside and must be enjoyed in parks and gardens (we suppose). I guess we will find the answer to these questions soon.
Pohutukawa Flowers
We are on our way to stay at the Art Loft B & B  in Havelock North for a couple of nights before connecting with Rosanna and Chris, Duncan’s former roommate from his bachelor days in Montreal. Rosanna is Canadian so I’m sure she’ll be willing to enlighten us about Kiwi Christmas customs. Joyeux Noel to all of you in Europe and North America who are following the blog.

Last Day at Lochmara Lodge

We hear rain on the roof in the morning, so much for that old adage, “Red sky...”. After breakfast we lounge in the room until about 11 am reading our books. It’s nice to have some “time off” from being a tourist.
Kayaking in Lochmara Bay
After lunch we try kayaking, can you believe it? I actually persuade Duncan that it’s now or never, he can go for as long or little as he likes, free of charge. We read the safety rules about wearing the life jacket and staying inside Lochmara Bay because of  the potential for sudden changes in the weather. We paddle about happily, absolutely on our own, nobody to rescue us if we capsize. We like it this way having never done it before. Hey, how hard can it be? We go for ½ hour and take photos and short videos to commemorate the experience, and then stow all the equipment back in the boathouse. We may actually take the advice of someone we met on this trip who advised kayaking on a river in Kauai’i up to a beautiful waterfall. Who knows? I need to work on my technique though, I am absolutely soaking wet from water running down my paddle and into my lap. Duncan is pretty dry in comparison. He’s better in boats than thinks he should give himself credit.

When the rain stops, we lace up our boots again – we came on this trip to hike after all. We retrace our steps up the 100 Acre Wood Trail to the turn off at the Lookout. We met a German fellow down on the dock last night who recommended we go to Mistletoe Bay, but we turn back because the staff encouraged us to book dinner early. There are only two couples here now, and ostensibly these youngsters would like to finish earlier and enjoy some down time. We don’t mind at all; a three hour hike is just right and we’ve been overdoing it a bit here.

That evening at dinner, the chef offers to make us something special because this is the third night we’ve eaten dinner at the lodge, and there are only four main options on the menu. He suggests hot smoked salmon with seasonal vegetables and that sounds perfect to us. It is really kind of him to accommodate us. There is no TV, telephone or internet at the Lodge so this is a real getaway. I descend once again into the world of LA homicide detective, Harry Bosch, hoping I can finish the book before we leave and swap it for another.
Fieldtrip
Our last morning, I relax in the room until check out time, but Duncan, feeling antsy, goes off to take more photos more interesting sights. While he is gone, a boatload of noisy teens arrives with their teachers for an end of the year fieldtrip. They receive “treasure hunt” maps and rush off toward Hammock Heaven and the Punga People. I chat with the friendly staff members down at the restaurant. Sarah is from Edmonton;  there are actually two Canadian girls named Sarah - both from Edmonton. She tells me of her recent adventures in New Zealand. She has only worked at the lodge one week and says she was lucky to get the job because, believe it or not, she was robbed at her backpackers’ lodge in Nelson. I express shock and surprise and suggest the thief was most likely a tourist, but she disagrees; she was contacted by the police who caught the not so smart Kiwi when he went to use her credit card at a bank machine and was caught on film. They have him in jail, and she will press charges. She lost her bank cards, passport and camera with all her photos. Nothing but the credit card has been retrieved. Well, I guess it was just too good to be true. There is crime here in NZ too - too bad. At least the security services seem to be doing their jobs.

As we board the boat, it's all go down at the beach again this time with young teens diving off a raft, swinging off a rope into the water and squealing with delight on their escape from the confines of school. We’re really sorry to leave Lochmara Lodge -  it is a unique endeavour in a beautiful location, and for Duncan the boat ride back is nice and, best of all, short.

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Day 2 on the Queen Charlotte Track

Arrows pointing to all the activity options
Boot Sculpture near the Shoe Gate

Sunday is a much quieter day at Lochmara Lodge, and we are beginning to understand the owners’ logic in organizing this place. They really CAN provide many different types of experiences to visitors here.  There is a display or activity that is bound to delight anyone who comes. There are literally hundreds of sculptures scattered throughout the grounds, distinctive artwork positioned throughout the lodge and an art gallery with frequently changing exhibits = all right there to appeal to art lovers. and  to reflect the owners' personal love of the fine arts.









Crumpys Camp, is a life size model of a miner’s camp tucked into the woods. Hammock Heaven has hammocks secluded in various corners of the forest. The Punga People, that look like native masks with Paua shell eyes are carved into the trunks of large native ferns, and peer out of dark corners on twisting trails. These features are bound to appeal to children and even teens. As will the tank with live eels, pigs and chooks in the farmyard, wandering alpacas and sheep, the parrots in the aviaries, the bee hives, the huge display cases with different types of geckos inside though we cannot see any in evidence of them, we think it may be a bit cold, and they are hiding out.
Punga Person
Many native bushes throughout the extensive grounds are labeled with information panels for those interested in botany, and there are additional plaques explaining the history and geology of the area for historians and rock hounds. Families can come and spend the day for the cost of the ferry ride and a modest entry fee, much cheaper than our Toronto Zoo let me tell you, but they must be willing to climb up and down some steep hillsides.
The restaurant serves interesting breakfast and lunch items ,and for fellow foodies, there are gourmet dinners at night with meat, fish and vegetarian options as well as scrumptious rich desserts. There is also an excellent selection of local fruit juices, wines and beers.
This is another example of  Kiwi versatility that we’ve seen all over the South Island. The tourist season is fairly short, the lodge is open Oct. – March, and the owners make the most of this time in order to make a living.
Beautiful Mosaic Tile Couch
After enjoying a delicious breakfast of homemade muesli with fresh apples, bananas and Kiwi fruit (an esthetically pleasing combination), following the advice of a staff member, we head for the “saddle”, another high point visible directly across from the lodge. It is a daunting looking hill but must afford another beautiful view so we lace up the hiking boots and head off. I can tell right away that I am overdressed as I begin to feel the heat. I wore my crazy Kiwi striped polypropylene top with the idea that it would “wick” off sweat, but it doesn’t seem to be doing the job. Anyway, it’s too late to turn back so we tramp for two hours in bright sunlight until we reach the highest point on the saddle. As I look across Lochmara Bay I can locate our room at the lodge straight across from where we are standing.
The Saddle as viewed from our room
We meet some charming Swiss travelers at this spot and compare travel notes. They left home at the end of October and unlike us will return home in ten days for Christmas. They compare the water views here to those of the  Caribbean and we concur. The water is absolutely still today and a beautiful sparkling mix of emerald and blue. They’ve recently been to Tasmania also and mention Wineglass Bay and Cradle Mountain, favourite sites of ours too. We wish them Joyeux Noel and part company, hurrying back to refreshing showers and cold beer. Duncan, a real prince as my parents used to call him, delivers ice cold bottles of Moa blanc to our balcony. After a 4 ½ hour hike we need some down time so I sink into the Harry Bosch novel that I’ve been saving for just this opportunity.
View from The Saddle
There are even fewer couples at dinner tonight, and we meet the chef out by the docks. He is a nice Midwesterner from Minnesota and explains that most of the young staff is American, Canadian or British because the season is so short. New Zealanders are looking for longer term positions. Because the water is so still tonight, he advises us to come out to the docks in the dark and skim our hands along the water to see the “phosphorescence”. He explains that this is a type of algae in the water that glows eerily at night where the water is disturbed in order to deflect potential predators’ attention from itself to other organisms,  and sure enough it really does, it shines like magic.

We also take a trip up Glowworm Gulley to see the worms shining all around like miniature twinkling Christmas lights. We had seen these on the South Island, and  according to the information plaque they are ubiquitous in New Zealand, one only has to go out at night and look on the hillsides and in the forest to see them. We didn’t know that so we paid quite a bit of money to visit the Glowworm Caves on Lake Manapouri. They emit wispy sticky strings of saliva that glow to attract prey. The weather has been fantastic today complete with a red sky at sunset. Surely it will be beautiful tomorrow. Duncan quotes the old adage, “Red sky at night, shepherds’ delight...”

The Queen Charlotte Track

It's "all go" at the Lochmara Lodge
We’ve reached our last opportunity to “tramp” on the South Island. The Queen Charlotte Track is renowned for providing unforgettable views of the Marlborough Sounds. Captain Cook visited here more than once and actually released the first sheep in NZ at Ship’s Cove, the northern most tip of the track. According to one plaque at Lochmara, they were intended to feed shipwrecked sailors. We wonder why he didn’t rescue them but perhaps he didn’t have room for them on the ship.

Following Pat and Ian’s recommendation we are spending three nights at Lochmara Lodge on Lochmara Bay, a short fifteen minute (water) taxi ride from Picton’s foreshore. The lodge ferry picks up passengers every day around lunch time, and we’ve booked a ride along with about twenty others. It is Saturday and when we arrive it’s all go at Lochmara Lodge. This is how I imagine a Butlin’s holiday camp in the UK. There is a hoard of little boys kayaking, swimming and leaping in and out of the water.  The Kiwi who greets us at the dock says this proves that children have no nerves because the water is NOT that warm! Just to the right of the dock a large group of adults is obviously enjoying a barbecue very much, judging from the noise and laughter.

Many of those who were on the boat with us disappear, perhaps they own cottages nearby, and we are left with one other couple and the greeter who shows us to our room. She explains about booking for dinner by 5 p.m., and how we can avail ourselves of massages and the private spa bathhouse if we book ahead. The other couple much younger than us, is here to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Duncan overheard the wife on the boat ask where they were going, so we guess it is a surprise. Lochmara Lodge, among many other things, bills itself as a romantic getaway!

Our room with large tiled bathroom, is spacious and affords a beautiful view of the sound. We can open the sliding doors fully and enjoy the breeze (if the weather warms up a bit of course). We’ve actually come to hike on the Queen Charlotte Track so we don’t mind all the activity though a bit of romance would be nice too.

The day is sunny so we lunch at a picnic table near the beach. Soon we are joined by all the little boys and I find myself wondering at the dearth of girls when it dawns on me that I am in the middle of a child’s birthday party. I catch on when one of the boys asks about a piñata.  So I guess these children aren’t really staying at the lodge. Aha!

After a delicious lunch of couscous and salmon salads, we don our hiking boots and are just heading for The Lookout, a hike of about 1 ½ hours, when the driver of the boat beseeches us to join him to feed the kakarikis (parrots). The lodge runs a wildlife recovery program and has two huge, and I mean huge, aviaries behind our room. Duncan wonders what time these parrots wake up in the morning. We enter by two sets of sliding doors and are urged to hold out our arms to encourage the birds to land. Duncan desists and opts to film me as I do so. It’s very special to see these beautiful native birds up so close and to watch them eat right from my hand. Then we switch roles and Duncan joins in the fun. When the mob from the barbecue arrives with libations in hand, they are encouraged to leave them at the door and enter the cages slowly. I see they are all wearing paper wristbands that identify them as daytrippers.  Aha. Now I’m beginning to understand the schedule at the Lochmara Lodge. We take this opportunity to depart or we figure we’ll never make it to The Lookout and be back in time for dinner at the prearranged time.
Hammock Heaven
After twenty minutes of following a number of trails to Crumpy’s Camp, Hammock Heaven, Glowworm Gulley and the Bee Hive, we finally find the Shoe Gate covered in old mouldy shoes, boots, slippers and flip flops (jandals) and exit onto a trail labeled “The 100 Acre Wood”. A staff member explained that whenever guests leave behind footwear and don’t ask to have it returned for the cost of the postage, they hang the abandoned item(s) on this fence. After walking about five minutes past the gate we find ourselves on a lovely peaceful, up and down trail through the dense forest with a few inspiring views of the bay. It takes an hour to reach the turnoff to the Queen Charlotte Track.  Another half hour brings us to the sign pointing toward The Lookout, and we huff and puff as we climb up numerous switchbacks to reach our destination.
Panoramic View of the Sounds
We made it!
When we arrive at the top, I collapse on my back on top of a picnic table before taking in the superb 360 degree view of the Sounds. We orient ourselves and see The Snout, where we hiked two days earlier among, other landmarks. The Interisland ferry is just approaching Picton too. It looks quite majestic out there in middle of Marlborough Sound. Duncan claims he is very happy he is enjoying the view rather than on the boat. We admire a Red Admiral Butterfly, the first butterfly we’ve seen on this trip. There are many species of moth in NZ but far fewer butterflies. We’re trying to get a photo of the elusive insect when a girl arrives, greets us and disappears. She’s the first person we’ve seen on the trail this afternoon.  Soon thereafter a Kiwi listening to an iPod JOGS up to the top of the hill. These Kiwis never cease to amaze me. I couldn’t jog up here even if I were forty years younger. Where do they get their energy? We leave him to enjoy the view and start down the hill. It took us two hours to get here, and we don’t want to miss  that dinner reservation. Two-thirds of the way down the hill, the jogging Kiwi passes us. I wave him down and ask him where he derives his get up and go. He takes out his earphones to explain that he is running late and knows he will be in trouble with his wife if he doesn’t hurry back. That explains his haste, I guess!

The return back to the lodge takes a mere 1 ½ hours, and the shower afterwards makes it all worthwhile. We enjoy our quiet candlelight dinner in the restaurant. The birthday party is over and the barbecue crowd has departed leaving Lochmara Lodge to the romantics. We are grateful.


Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Marlborough - Wine Country

On the Winery Tour
NZ wines from Marlborough are our favourites, particularly the Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir varieties. The small country of NZ is a powerhouse at marketing their wines worldwide. The wine industry in Canada should follow their example. Nearly everyone we’ve met from North America or Europe is familiar with NZ wines and most people don’t even know that Canada produces wines. Did you know that for Canadians it is technically illegal for an individual to transport wines from province to province? Now if anyone can explain that archaic law to my satisfaction, I’ll give them a prize.

Ontario produces some excellent wines, but often we must go directly to the wineries to get much variety and that involves a two hour drive to the Niagara region on a very busy highway. Smaller producers can sell either at the cellar door or through the upmarket Vintages division of the LCBO (liquor licensing board of Ontario), and they must be able to guarantee a certain minimum number of cases. When we go to British Columbia, a province that produces very fine wines, we must enjoy the wines while there because we can rarely purchase the ones we like in our LCBO. So what do we do? We buy a lot of New Zealand wines, because we like them and can get a wider variety of their wines than our favourites from British Columbia. I don’t get it; think of the thousands of miles they must travel! And we are finding that the prices we pay at home for NZ wines aren’t significantly higher than what we pay here. The LCBO taxes on our favourite BC wines add $10 per bottle to a $20 bottle of wine.  So what do we do? We buy NZ wines, and that’s why we are back in Marlborough to discover some new ones.

Because my sister-in-law hails from NZ we’ve been familiar with the wines for a number of years, and every time a new label shows up at Vintages section, we try it. On our last visit we cycled from winery to winery both in Marlborough and in Martinborough. To be fair to Martinborough, we liked the wines when we visited the region but they don’t show up in our stores in Toronto very often.

On this trip we finally got a sunny day, so Pat kindly arranged for us to rent bicycles from colleagues at Stonehaven B and B, and we were off with recommendations for wineries to try in the Renwick area. First we visited Wairau River for lunch figuring that we’d better eat something before drinking very much wine or we really would end up in the ditch, no joke. The winery was a hive of activity with construction workers operating diggers, tractors, and dump trucks and all working at full speed while additional workers clomped on the roof of the tasting room in big boots installing some kind of wiring.  The food was highly recommended and this was one of the few wineries with a full-fledged restaurant, most others if they had food at all offered only platters of cheese or charcuterie, so we did our best to ignore all the noise and confusion. The locals certainly didn’t seem to mind because at noon, already about half the tables were full. We admit we enjoyed excellent meals in spite of the din; I had pizza and Duncan, a blue cheese soufflé, and we enjoyed two glasses of their wine without even sampling them beforehand. I chose the reserve Pinot Noir and Duncan sampled the Pinot Gris; both complemented the food well.

We had stowed our bikes behind a big construction sign that was propped on the winery bike rack. The Stonehaven owners hadn’t supplied bike locks, and we figured this was because there wasn’t much danger of theft.  But we didn’t want to take any chances so we concealed them as best we could. When we finished lunch, we came out to find the sheltering sign gone, and this being NZ, the bikes though fully exposed, were where we had left them.

As I was feeling a little tipsy already from the wine at lunch, we walked the bikes directly across the street to Nautilus Winery which also had a bike rack, where we tasted their bubbly and a Pinot Noir. While enjoying both wines, we talked at length to an employee, a man of South African descent. We tested our theory on why New Zealanders are so friendly and he concurred. He told us he moved because many members of his family had emigrated to NZ, and they all loved both the people and the country.

Mahi Tasting Room
Next we were off to Forrest Vineyard. It was interesting to see this operation, because we’ve enjoyed their wines in Canada for a long time. Then we went to Mahi Vineyard, highly recommended by both B & Bs. We tasted four of their wines and loved them all. The lady there was very welcoming and informative and even offered to take our picture standing behind the selection of wines we’d tasted. We’ll be certain to look out for them at home. Finally we headed off to Te Whare Ra, a small winery, with some unusual wines along with the more conventional ones. There was another group in the cellar door tasting room so we didn’t linger.

Dessert Platter at Georges Michel Winery
After conferring on the best wine of the day, we cycled back to Mahi and purchased two bottles of their Pinot Noir before a final stop at Georges Michel Winery for dessert. The dining room was just closing at 4 p.m., but the kindly proprietor took pity on us and slipped us in, and we were so grateful. We had been saving dessert as our last stop, pedalling as fast as we could. We harbour fond memories of this restaurant from our last visit. The dessert plate with almond cake, chocolate mousse, raspberry sorbet, creme brulee, dessert wine and caramel crunch was excellent as is the view over the vines. We cycled back to Stonehaven with the bikes and took some photos of their lovely back garden before retrieving our rental car.
Beautiful View over the Georges Michel Vineyard
On the way back to Koromiko Homestead, we couldn’t resist stopping at Makana Confections. Pat and Ian have kindly provided us with chocolates from this shop throughout our stay with them; every night after dinner we savour one each, and they are well worth the calories! We remember watching through the observation window as employees boiled caramel in a huge copper kettle. It was only half an hour before closing so they were cleaning up for the day, but a friendly girl instantly proffered samples of their hazelnut crunch and cherry flavoured truffles. They are very astute probably figuring that like us, most people will not leave empty handed.  We couldn’t resist purchasing the crunch along with another Cecily tea towel and greeting card. Cecily is a NZ cartoonist whose clever tea towels, aprons, books and cards are on sale in small shops throughout the country. She is a woman of a certain age and on my wavelength, extolling the vital components of good living where tea, wine and chocolate feature prominently. Cheers to Cecily and to the wines of Marlborough!
http://www.cecily.co.nz/
Click Below for Map: http://maps.google.ca/maps?q=Blenheim,+Marlborough,+New+Zealand&hl=en&ll=-41.393294,174.418945&spn=6.313314,14.128418&sll=49.891235,-97.15369&sspn=21.721344,56.513672&vpsrc=6&hnear=Blenheim,+Marlborough,+New+Zealand&t=m&z=6