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.