Welcome Back to Canada

We spent an excellent last day in Honolulu at the Bishop Museum. The bus system there is excellent; and we couldn't help but compare two helpful native Hawaiian bus drivers to our own TTC drivers and wonder why they were so different. One took the time to make sure we understood that we could use the transfer within four hours to travel anywhere on the system. Another stopped to confer and make sure we were on the right bus back to our hotel. Hawaii is a tourist dependent economy, and people in service go out of their way to make sure you enjoy your stay.

We took the bus part way and walked to this excellent museum of Hawaiian culture. It has a planetarium, a geological building, a Hawaiian botanical garden and a huge Hawaiian cultural centre. We planned to spend half a day and ended up there the entire day, going from one special presentation to another. We especially liked the two programs in the planetarium after our experience viewing the stars in Te Anau. Richard, our leader would have been proud. We learned how the early Polynesians navigated using the stars, wave patterns - when cloudy, and bird life to indicate land nearby. We listened to the same presentation on the constellations twice. I told the presenter we were slow learners! They had excellent interactive displays on climate change and global warming in the facility.

Our overnight flight back to Vancouver was uneventful on Air Canada but arriving in Vancouver was unexpectedly pleasant. They have a new automated check in at Customs and Immigration, but we opted to speak to an agent. She commented upon the length of our sojourn, queried where we had been and asked, "Are you two employed?" We responded with smiles, "Retired." "In that case, you've earned your stripes. Welcome back to Canada!" I compared this to our entry in 2010 into LA as I watched all "foreigners" being fingerprinted, followed by the encounter with the obstreporous American customs agent who tossed my Canadian passport at me with the comment, "Get yourself an American passport." (I was born in the USA, but have lived the better part of my life in Canada.) After praising the Aussies and Kiwis and friendly Hawaiians throughout this trip, that was a memorable welcome - it made us feel happy to be back home.

House on Stilts

This blog began in 2010 at this beautiful house on stilts named Hula Hideaway, so it is fitting that this second installment ends here too. We’ve rented the house to see in the New Year on our way back from our three month sojourn in Australia and New Zealand. Hawaii has provided an excellent place to begin this trip on Moloka’i and to end it on the garden isle of Kaua’i.  I find it somewhat unbelievable to be fortunate enough to be back here.  This house could not be more inspirational with its 360 degree view of the surrounding landscape - lush greenery at the back and the pounding surf at the front not ten minutes from our door. It was constructed with great attention to detail and two of its best features are the beautiful hardwood floors and the louvred windows that catch warm breezes and the cooling trade winds that make Hawaii such a desirable destination for approximately ten million visitors every year. This is an open plan house with different corners devoted to cooking, eating, lounging and sleeping. There is a back lana’i for eating out of doors and a front lana’i for reading and gazing at the sea in the near distance. It is absolutely perfect as far as we’re concerned. There are also separate quarters on a smaller scale downstairs that we are not using but are included in the rental price.

Duncan has returned with his heart set on seeing sea turtles come ashore to lay their eggs on nearby Moloa’a Beach, and I hope that he is not disappointed. Two years ago we read in the visitors’ book that on New Year’s Eve 2010, a visitor saw this natural spectacle. Believing that sea turtles are programmed to return to the same beach at the same time, we hope to get lucky.

Arriving at the house is a thrill; it is just as we left it in Feb. 2010 though it has had scores of visitors since then.  The cacophonous roosters still rule the island, and the bullfrogs broadcast from their ponds every night. Even Ginger, an outdoor cat we were encouraged to feed back then, is still here looking a bit worse for wear. I suspect she has a pretty serious flea infestation, and also that visitors let her inside the house because she seems quite miffed when we refuse her entry. An email to the owner comes back with a request to add an addendum to his welcome message asking visitors to bar the door. If she does have fleas, I consider this very sound advice. Fortunately there do not seem to be any in residence while we’re here. He swears she doesn’t have fleas, but he comes here infrequently so how would he know?

We’ve been in touch with an acquaintance we met through our next door neighbour in Toronto, and she invites us to a New Year’s Day gathering at the Taro Patch down the road. We volunteer to help with preparations and head there our third day to learn how to make leis for the Hawaiian dignitaries who will kick off the party. Duncan makes traditional leis, and I make the hakulei - the  kind that fits around the head or the neck. They are really beautiful and though I can’t imagine I’ll ever do this again, I really enjoy the experience.

Claudia's lei

New Year’s Eve at around 9 p.m. we head to the beach with our champagne on our quest. We take flashlights and stumble around in the near dark.  Unlike our first visit to this bay, many of the houses are inhabited for the holidays.  However except for a young fisherman and his girlfriend, we are the only ones who seem to want to celebrate on the beach.  He waves a welcome with his headlight and we ask if we are likely to see any sea turtles because the owner of our house didn’t respond to my request for information soon enough to be of help.  He replies that there is currently one swimming practically right in front of us and if we just sit quietly, it will probably come ashore again.  We move down the beach and sit for an hour drinking our champagne and waiting, but no luck. So we move further north along the beach to see if there is any action there.  Meanwhile the fisherman has departed, likely for celebrations elsewhere, and we are alone listening to the waves crashing on the shore.  We stroll silently sweeping the water with our flashlights when I notice a dark lump on the beach where I didn’t think there were any rocks and sure enough, Mrs. Sea Turtle has arrived! Another red letter day, just like when we saw the platypus in Tasmania. How can we be so fortunate? I wonder.  We watch for twenty minutes in the dark and see her push off into the dark ocean.  Would you believe me if I say we are ecstatic? We decide not to linger because we don’t want to disturb her further. Just seeing her was enough, and we want her to achieve her hard won goal; she’s likely swum for many miles. What a way to see in the New Year! We retire to the house and listen to drumming from a lively party in the distance. The distant noise continues into the wee hours, but we don’t mind, it’s New Year’s Eve after all; we’re just happy it is not coming from next door.

New Year’s Day we arrive at the secluded location down the road at Anahola for the Taro Patch Brunch scheduled to  kick off  promptly at 10:30 a.m. led by Puna Dawson, a native Hawaiian. While waiting we chat to a lady who originated the idea for this brunch and held it at her house for ten years. She says it finally became too much for her, because once word got around, more and more people began arriving and the parking and noise annoyed her neighbours. A committee formed to find this beautiful alternate spot and to do all the planning and execution; our friend is in charge this year. Puna (the kahuna) who is wearing a lei I made the day before, gives a blessing. I find myself praying the doesn’t fall apart as I am a very inexperienced lei maker! I admit that I am really chuffed that she is wearing one of my creations. She leads the procession into this sacred spot and participants stop to pay a small fee and deliver their pot luck offerings to the food table. My contribution: a quinoa salad with tropical fruits and macadamia nuts. I purchased most ingredients at the Hanale’i Farmer’s Market that I enjoyed so much on our last visit.

Puna the Kahuna wearing Claudia's lei

As the day unfolds we feel privileged to be here. Puna speaks of the Hawaiian culture, we see hula dancing and listen to drumming. Two people circulate with coconuts shells that contain burning sage and lavender, and they use bird wings to perform “cleansing” to anyone who would like it. This consists of having the smoke wafted by the wings around various regions of the body. One of the “cleansers” explains that this custom originated with North American aboriginals.

Hula Dancing at the Taro Patch

We enjoy half a day here chatting with some of the locals and partaking in the delicious eclectic brunch. We enjoy various performances throughout our visit and when we leave around 1:30 p.m. there are many locals continuing to arrive. I’m glad we came early because there isn’t much food left, but since everyone brings something, doubtless there will be enough for these latecomers.

Cleansing Ceremony

Moloa'a Bay Sunrise

The following day we arise at dawn to see the sunrise on the beach, and on our way see the imprint in the sand from the sea turtle’s body. I recognize it because I looked for Moloa’a Beach on YouTube  and a previous visitor had posted a film of a turtle and the imprint it left in the sand. So we know she has been back.  The night we saw her she had a ‘false crawl’; she perceived our presence and headed back out to sea, but she came back again and laid her eggs, taking care to bury them deeply! They will hatch in two months time, and the little turtles will rush to swim in the sea to avoid dehydration and death. According to Wikipedia only one in a thousand survives to maturity the hatchlings fall prey to sharks among other creatures. We also see an albatross take off from the top of the cliff before we head back for breakfast.

Sea Turtle Imprint

That afternoon we revisit Hanale’i and Ke’e Beach, all the more interesting because Anne loaned us a DVD entitled Taylor Camp about an infamous group of hippies who created a camp in the sixties and squatted there for about eight years. Elizabeth Taylor’s brother owned the land and let them use it, because he was chagrined when locals refused him planning permission to build a luxurious home on the site. The state later took over the land, and it is now Ha’ena Beach Park. Most locals were not too fond of the hippies but until the state took over, they were unable to move them off.  We weren’t sure where exactly they had located but when we looked it up and found that we had inadvertently walked to the very spot about a half mile down the beach. We had crossed a stream near a (landmark) wet cave and sat on a rock mesmerized by three surfers who were taking on the huge waves. It is “winter” here, and the waves are high on the north side of the island where we are staying, attracting scores of surfers.  The bravest go to the north shore of Oahu to try their luck on the infamous Banzai Pipeline, but it seems to me that some of these waves are worthy of attention too. I vow to find out more about surfing because it’s fascinating to watch them. The sport requires infinite patience, loads of courage and remarkable strength.

Site of Taylor Camp

The following day is hot and humid, but we feel like a hike so we tackle the Kuilau Ridge Trail rated as “hardy family” in our guidebook. There is a picnic table near the summit and in spite of the eighty degree temperatures we enjoy the view and the silence. The rest of the trail is muddy and slippery, but we do meet a few families with young children. We reach the end, an anticlimax after the great view, and head back down for an afternoon trek to our beach. We swam here yesterday and look forward to cooling off in what I call “the bathtub”, an area protected from the high waves by a reef. Locals tend to gather there with their children in the late afternoon at low tide to enjoy a dip in the sea, just our speed as neither of us is a strong swimmer. There are only about fifteen people on the beach, and this is a busy day ; there are usually two or three at most according to the owner of our house!

The following day we meet Anne for lunch at Moloa’a Sunrise, a juice bar on the main highway, and invite her back to the house afterwards for coffee. She loaned us a pile of DVDs during our stay so in addition to lunch, we present her with flowers and a lei that Duncan made last night. It kept quite well in the fridge, and she is delighted. If anyone needs a lei – he has acquired a new skill, providing there are leaves from the ti plant available. We retreat to the beach for our last afternoon, gazing out at the turquoise ocean wishing we could stay here forever. I received an email from Sara Murphy telling us she is really serious about having us as woofers on her farm in Te Anau, NZ. Now I just have to convince Duncan that this would be a real adventure he could actually enjoy. I could head back there immediately to help out! But alas, our obligations in Toronto call, and we must head for home the day after tomorrow, but who knows... we may be back sooner rather than later!

Don’t Self-Cater in Waikiki

Waikiki Sunset - Best things in life are free

The Air NZ flight of nearly nine hours was excellent. The individual video screens provide just enough distraction for me: two movies, a few short documentaries on food and wine, the fiordland film, Ata Whenua (Shadowlands), along with the meals and we’re there. I’d always dreaded these long haul flights because I can’t sleep on planes, but find they’re not so bad after all. Arriving at our chosen destinations makes it worth the wait.

Our entry into the USA goes very smoothly. Duncan is able to come through the short line with me as I’m traveling on my US passport (one advantage of being born a Yank) and we are ready to catch a cab, get into our condo and go to bed. Unlike the mainland, even the immigration officers are welcoming in Hawaii. It’s such a pleasure to come here. We meet a young Maori fellow and his wife while waiting for a cab; I joke and tell him to toughen up a bit – he’s in the USA. He laughs good naturedly.

All goes smoothly until the cab drops us off. Dunc has some trouble with the lockbox that holds the key to the front gate but finally works it out. Then we find that this low rise six unit condo has no elevator, and we have to get up to #402. Dunc goes up and counts the stairs on the way down, bad news, we have to drag our bags up 50 stairs – not an easy prospect at our age.  We finally manage and enter the condo. It was billed as luxurious on the internet, but in doing my search I found people commenting that Hawaii has no tourist standards like the Qualmark in NZ. I should have checked this place out on Trip Advisor, I usually do, but I didn’t this time. It’s certainly is not luxurious, let’s say it’s adequate, more like a slightly depressing motel. The patio door won’t lock - perhaps it’s a good thing we’re on the fourth floor after all.  It will do, but we’re disappointed. I wish we were going to Kaua’i tomorrow to our lovely house on stilts. Ah well, the location is good, down at the Diamond Head end of the beach; we’ll survive, it’s clean and the bed is comfortable though the one bedside lamp has a short circuit and fails to work. Listings on the internet are sometimes better than anticipated and sometimes worse; this is worse. We head out to buy some provisions but there is very little in the way of stores, just the convenience variety so we make some judicious choices and go back to retire for the night.

The following morning the place looks a bit better. I’m not sure why but places always seem to look better in the daylight. However there are two vacant lots near us so that adds to the depressing aura. They didn’t show those on the internet.  We don’t tend to like hotels all that much, preferring more space but I find myself wishing we were in the Hilton or the Hyatt, a stone’s throw away. We’ve already paid for the space so we decide to make the best of it. Ironically we end up eating out a lot because there are almost no food stores around, and we don’t have a car. Waikiki Beach is dominated by the big hotel chains. But breakfast in the condo is enjoyable with the provisions I brought from NZ, excellent dark roasted coffee and scrumptious macadamia nut granola fortified with local bananas and pineapple.

The first day we enjoy strolling along the Waikiki strip. The city is a shock after NZ with people everywhere buzzing in and out of the retail shops.  This is a place where the phrase “shop ‘til you drop” comes to life. This is probably the biggest week of the year here. It’s Dec. 26 (our second one because we crossed the International Date Line. I anticipate bargains but am disappointed;  these luxury shops are holding fast to their high prices. We spend our first day walking the entire length of the beach strip, ending up at the Ala Moana shopping mall where we find excellent bread and muffins in a Japanese department store. Duncan wore the soles off his running shoes so he replaces them, and I choose some Crazy Shirts from their wide selection of stylish tees.

We stop along the beach for pupus of coconut shrimp and ahi (yellow fin tuna) sushi and the infamous mai tais that hammered us on our first visit here.  Having seen a lot more of Hawaii now, I wonder why all these people pay so much to cram themselves onto this overcrowded beach. Kailua Beach is much nicer and only a half an hour away. However the area is probably crawling with the Secret Service right now if the Obamas are staying there again for their Christmas break.

Tokkuri Tei - note the wallpaper signed by celebrities

For dinner that night after much searching we find the sushi restaurant Tokkuri Tei that we enjoyed so much in 2010. To our delight we find that it has moved two blocks closer in toward the beach and is actually only a fifteen minute walk from our condo. I admit that I chose our location with this place in mind, I never forget an exceptional meal. While waiting we enjoy a cold beer and note how hard the staff is working. This is a local rather than a tourist destination and most of the diners are Asian. They all seem to be having a wonderful time. The sushi is as fresh and delicious as we remembered so we make a reservation for the following night. Our entire meal plus beer costs around $50, not too steep for this town. We can’t figure out which guidebook we used to find this restaurant before, but we’re so glad we were able to retrace our steps.

Hoards at Diamond Head

The next day we wait at the bus stop to take the bus to Diamond Head for a hike. I understand the hike will be hot and dusty but the view is supposed to be worth it. When a cab driver offers $3.00 each to the crater entrance we take up his offer and are glad we did. It’s a long walk from the bus stop so we’ll do it only once on the way down. We slog up to the top with what seems like thousands of others. The view is as anticipated if you don’t mind sharing it with five hundred others trying to cram into the same small space. This isn’t NZ, it’s America where the individual rules so one has to be a bit aggressive in order to see anything.  I’m not sure I’d recommend it, there are lots better hikes in Hawaii, though it is interesting to be in an look at the crater from above, but it’s crawling with people. It saddens me to see that the state government doesn’t allocate enough money to make this park attractive. It was the same at the Waimea Canyon on Kauai -  there are rusty signs, scraggly fences and unkempt greenery – depressing.  I find myself thinking of NZ again – 100% Pure!

Hard-earned view from Diamond Head

We walk all the way back toward town and stop for a coffee and a takeout pizza at some local hangouts. We’re glad we did this, because it gets us out of the tourist area. There is a nice park and the zoo to pass on the way back, and we vow to bring our books and sit in the park in front of the ocean for an hour or two. We’ve met two Canadian retirees here, both from the west - Alberta and BC. Hawaii is a popular destination for the western snowbirds, who spend the entire winter here. One woman told us she’s been to every island but, unlike me, prefers the action on Oahu. While in the park hoards of Japanese "salary-men and women" flock onto the beach dressed in their very best, suits and ties for the men and chic dresses and stilettos for the women. They all appear to be the same age so we figure this must be a corporate event rather than a wedding; a police officer confirms our suspicions - they are here for a group photo.

We stop at Waikiki beach to see the sunset - maybe this is why so many people flock here as it is magnificent. Dinner at the sushi place is a sure bet, and we note the servers are entirely different. Perhaps they work so hard they need frequent breaks. We retire early to be ready for our long anticipated trip to Kaua’i, we’re renting the same lovely house on stilts, and I’m really looking forward to it, especially after the motel!

We arrive early at the airport, and it’s a good thing we did because our bags are individually too heavy for the airline, and we have to shift things around to avoid paying an excess baggage fee. After some sweat we succeed. It was the dirty laundry bag that caused the problem, unbalancing our loads. I end up with some of Duncan’s (clean) clothes stuffed into my handbag. We haven’t acquired much on this trip, but we’ve needed clothes for different seasons so it was difficult to travel light. A kind employee of Hawaiian Airlines advises us to get an extra case next time and pay $10 for that rather than go to all this trouble. If the case is too heavy, they charge a fortune. It wouldn’t be a problem if I didn’t have to carry turtlenecks, a sweater and long underwear!

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

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.

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.

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!