Kiwi Christmas in Welly with the 'Rellies'

The weather in Wellington, NZ, aka Windy Welly has been glorious for our first Kiwi Christmas. We’ve been told not to expect this so we feel blessed. Sunshine and blue skies greet us every day of our five day visit. Upon arrival on Dec. 22 we find that the agent from the rental agency is not there to meet us. Since we need a key to enter the lobby , we are doubly thankful that it’s not raining. Our flight was delayed half an hour, and her absence implies she has missed our advisory message. After ten minutes, Duncan decides to go off looking for a payphone while I stand by the luggage. Before he takes only a few steps I call him back, because I spy a mature woman with an iPhone. I decide to flag her down to ask if she’d mind if we make a call. Our luggage tags with the Canadian flags are prominent and in any other place in the world I would not be audacious enough to ask, but in NZ I know she will come to our rescue gracefully rather than take me for a public nuisance. After all, I deduce, simply pulling out a map in this country attracts unsolicited offers of help.  She appears somewhat surprised but she gracefully agrees, and just as Duncan is listening to the recorded message a second time to be sure of the contact number (guaranteed to try her patience), a car pulls up, and the agent leaps out and apologizes profusely for being late.  We give our thanks to the courteous Kiwi wishing her happy holidays and drag our bags up the front steps to our rental apt. There are no surprises here because we rented this same flat on our previous trip. It’s not luxurious but is clean, compact and convenient and best of all has a washer and dryer. In passing the agent comments that she persuaded the owner to add a bigger dining table because the other was too small to hold more than a couple of plates. Its best feature is a balcony that runs the entire length so we can eat outside in the sunshine.

Later that evening Douglas, Duncan’s brother, arrives to whisk us up to Karori for dinner and a reunion with his family. Jono, the older of the two nephews, greets us reservedly with Anna, his mum. Chris appears from another room and is not averse to a welcoming hug – but I ask permission first. We dine on a delicious risotto, salad and pudding before retiring to the front lounge for tea and chat. Douglas and Anna have been following this blog so we highlight only a few of our many Antipodean adventures. They comment that most Kiwis haven’t been to many of our destinations and certainly not the East Cape. Douglas and Anna agree that Fleur’s Place at Moeraki and Stewart Island are on their ‘must see’ list.

Douglas agrees to take us back to Zealandia the next day so that we can see a takahe and test ourselves on the identification of NZ birds since we didn’t see many at Maungatautari. He loves to walk about there and like me is eager to see the saddlebacks. There is a different species here from the ones we saw on Stewart Island.

We finish up a bit of Christmas shopping in Wellington the next morning before heading off to hike around Zealandia after lunch. I remember that Peter Tait on Stewart Island was very keen on this wildlife sanctuary, and conveniently it’s just a few minutes’ drive from the Wood residence.

Wellington seems the right size compared to the other NZ cities; it is a lively centre of culture and the hub of the national government. Like Ottawa government bureaucrats represent a large proportion of the workforce. In fact we are staying five minutes away from “the Beehive”, the Kiwi nickname for their House of Parliament because of its shape and perhaps the nature of the business carried on inside. This particular morning the other end of town is bustling with last minute shoppers. Anna explained that many New Zealanders are not only frantically finishing up work in preparation for Christmas but also anticipating their summer “hols”. January in NZ is equivalent to August in Paris when everyone abandons the city for the countryside leaving the town to tourists. This makes me wonder if we will feel lonely in our little flat at Christmas time since our street is generally quiet after business hours with only tourist buses arriving and departing from the historic St. Paul’s Anglican chapel across the street. I vow to try and make it a bit more festive.

Jolly Waitress at the Chocolate Fish

The following day after a delicious lunch at the funky gem of a cafe, the Chocolate Fish, located across from Wellington at the seaside, we agree to meet in Karori for an early dinner and go to St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church for a Christmas Eve carol service. Because they are in the choir, Douglas and Anna leave us to bring the two boys just in time for the sherry and mince pies. Chris jokingly remarks that he only likes mince (e.g. hamburger),  and he queries how much juice one can drink.  He suggests arriving at 7:45 p.m., and we negotiate a 7:30 p.m. arrival time, because I don’t want to miss the mince pies – the refreshments conjure a memory of warm mince pies enjoyed at the church in St. John’s Square, London where we attended a Christmas concert with Douglas and Anna about twenty years ago.  Tonight the sherry is great but alas no mince pies, Christmas cake (aka fruitcake) is on offer instead, not anyone’s favourite! I’ve never met anyone who really likes Christmas cake but I guess it goes with the holiday, even in NZ.

Duncan and Douglas on the land based Chocolate Fish Interislander
(The only ferry Duncan entered willingly!)

We delight in the carols and listen attentively to the Christmas message commending the citizens of Christchurch for their resilience; yesterday to everyone’s dismay they experienced two major shakes and more liquefaction. It is too much for them to bear, and no one here believes this period of geological instability is over yet. We later receive a message from our Charteris Bay hosts that they are taking their boat and sailing away to escape the area for the holidays. 

Most New Zealanders acknowledge that they were looking for an earthquake to hit Wellington rather than Christchurch. This ongoing catastrophe on the South Island has prompted citizens of Wellington to re-evaluate their preparedness levels. Douglas relates how a shop called After Shake in Karori selling emergency supplies, e.g. water, candles and canned goods etc. is doing a brisk trade. He also tells us that the concert hall we had visited two years ago is now closed for additional reinforcement.

After the service we stroll home really feeling in a Christmas mood at last and plan to meet in Karori in the late morning for a Skype call with family living in the UK. Because the Anglican Cathedral lists a 7:45 a.m. service on Christmas day, we make plans to attend before the eagerly anticipated call. The cathedral is ultra modern with the lovely altar shining in the morning sun, and we’re glad to have made the effort to attend. We feel a bit underdressed as we watch worshippers file in; men are wearing suits and ties and woman dresses and suits. At least Duncan is wearing a dress shirt and I have on my only skirt. I’m sure the attire would be the same in Toronto’s cathedral but not as formal in our own small church. One of the female celebrants looks a bit terrifying in a severe black robe as she marches determinedly thrusting a crosier forward ahead of her like a spear. I feel a bit sacrilegious as I suppress a smile and think of how my witty brother-in-law would describe this scene.

Though the service is billed as a carol service, there are only three carols one to start, one in the middle and one to finish. We listen attentively to the sermon by the young female Anglican priest, dividing New Zealanders at this time of year into two types - camping and non-camping. Representatives of the non-camping group are in attendance this morning.  She says her limited camping experience includes hoards of sand flies encountered in the Nelson Lakes area. Duncan and I smile at each other – these mythical NZ sand flies – we still have not experienced them. I guess we may never know if they are the same as their notorious Canadian cousins, the black flies. She also commends the people of Christchurch, and we find out during the peace that the couple behind us are from there.

Kiwi-themed Christmas Decorations

We hasten back to the flat to enjoy a Christmas brunch of scrambled eggs with tomato and basil and delicious French raisin bread from a local bakery, a welcome departure from our usual granola and fresh fruit. We’re both delighted by the small gifts purchased surreptitiously on our travels – for me a lovely pair of sterling silver whale-tail earrings and for Duncan, small leather goods embossed with a Kiwi and a silver fern; I knew they would be a big hit. I also got him a silly looking Kiwi soft toy that will perch on one corner of our four poster bed across from our koala toy, a present from friends years ago.

Back in Karori we enjoy coffee in the garden before the anticipated Skype call -  it is 10:30 p.m. on Christmas Eve there. Here, however, the sun is shining and it’s a perfect Christmas Day for Wellingtonians. Unfortunately the call from the UK lasted less than one minute because of a power outage. It was nice to see everyone’s faces though and we’ll try again tomorrow.

We retreat to our flat for lunch and a stroll in the Botanical Gardens before heading to Karori in the late afternoon for Christmas dinner. Besides the Wood clan, we share the celebration with additional members of the Smith clan, most of whom we met on our last visit, Anna’s lively spirited mother, becoming hard of hearing but still very sharp mentally, her forthright and amiable sisters, Charlotte and Philippa, Philippa’s genial husband Lee, their two loquacious adolescent children and Jono’s girlfriend Chelsea. Anna has been on her feet all day preparing vegetable dips, a beautiful glazed ham with all the trimmings, Christmas trifle and of course, Pavlova – though Australians claim this dessert, Kiwis will argue that it originated in NZ. We enjoy our feast out of doors at the big wooden table at the back of the garden.

Family Grouping

Afterwards we open presents inside and chat well into the evening. It’s been almost twenty years since we were together with Douglas and Anna for an English Christmas. This first Kiwi Christmas will be imprinted on our memories, vastly different from what we are accustomed to in the Northern Hemisphere, highlighted by warm temperatures, sunny skies, traditional fare and, best of all, surrounded by friendly lovely family. Because we are on our own in Canada, our big holidays are usually quiet affairs, and this is a welcome departure from the norm for us.

Anna's NZ Christmas Pavlova

The following day we return for the call only to find there has been a misunderstanding about the date and time. No matter, we enjoy lunch in the garden and a walk around Wellington Harbour before a dinner of chicken grilled on the mythical “barby” (barbecue). Regretfully we say our goodbyes in the evening and think that maybe next time we come to NZ, we should rent a house and stay put in one location – Wellington would be perfect – how hard can it be? When leaving I console myself by remembering a conversation in Raglan with a young Maori woman who, when she learned we were from Canada, said, “I understand that NZ is much like Canada.” You know what? She’s got it right, though the distances between my favourite places are a lot greater. Tomorrow we’re off for the last leg of our journey, ten days in Hawaii to unwind in one place for a change.

Christmas Kiwi Style