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.