Guess where I'm going next?
Clue: They've been on my "Go See Do" list for years.
Stay tuned for updates!
Friday, November 30, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Why travel?
I've been doing a lot of introspection lately - in part, for academic purposes as part of one of my classes. Although I initially resented the work of having to look deeper at myself and examine my motivations along with my skills and goals, the assignment really provided me with useful insight that I may not have otherwise gained.
For example, I know that the need to travel is an innate part of me. I like to think it's embedded in my DNA on a primitive level, that it's been hard-wired into my being since the beginning. How else to explain the fact that life seems unworth living if the opportunity to go places, meet people, see things and embark on adventures were taken away? Losing my passport seems worse than the prospect of losing a limb even when there is plenty of travel to be had on a national level. Travel is a non-negotiable part of my life equation. It all boils down to 3 simple words: Go. See. Do.
But why do I love to travel so much? Genetic explanation aside, I see my reasons as being multi-factoral. My family, for example, is one of those reasons. My dad's side has always lived pretty close by, but my mum's side lives across the country as well as on the other side of the world. When one goes back another generation, or further into the cousins section, both sides of my family are scattered around the world. I was a toddler the first time I travelled overseas to the U.K., and still a baby when I first travelled to the U.S. I was in elementary school the first time I flew alone "out West" to visit my grandparents, and in my 20s, I returned to England (by myself) to visit family and friends of the family for 3 weeks. It took me nearly a decade of saving and sporadic planning, but a couple of years ago, I took myself down to NZ to visit my uncle and his wife for nearly a month - people I was related to but barely knew. Heck, I've even dropped in on other people's family for a visit - my friend's cousin's fiancee's brother and their parents put me up for the night in the south of Switzerland when I was a random stranger passing through in 2005. Now that I live multiple provinces away from my nuclear family but closer to my mum's relatives, I've been working on getting to know some of them better with random, sporadic visits when time allows.
Friends, too, are one of my reasons to see the world. When I was hiking in NZ, I met a great group of people from all different parts of the world - The Netherlands, Scotland, Australia, England, NZ... I'd like to visit each of them where they live to see their countries through their eyes. That's one of the great things about travel: when you meet people who live in the places you are visiting, they enrich your experience by sharing a part of their everyday lives with you. Whether it's something as simple as running errands with them and seeing the types of shops that they frequent, eating at their favourite restaurant that may or may not be known to tourists, or a trip through the countryside to one of their favourite gelato places, these are my ways of working to understand the location as a local person does - especially if my visit is a short one. Tourist attractions are great - don't get me wrong - but I enjoy visiting the preschool that my newly-met little cousins attend, the beach that my other cousins like to walk on to find treasures, the pizza place that my friends love eating at, the church that a family friend rings the bells at every Sunday, or the local hiking trail that my friend just discovered and can't wait to share with me. I don't always want to see places as a "tourist"; I want to see how the locals live, too.
Stories inspire me to travel. In 2005, I jetted off to Zurich, Switzerland to see the Bahnhoffstrasse, the waterfront, and the infamous Swiss banking institutions (the subtle ones for people with serious money were harder to find), all because I had read about them in the Jason Bourne series of books by Robert Ludlum and wanted to see if they looked the same in real life as I had pictured them while reading. The next time I return to Italy, I will be looking for the places written about in The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown as well as shamelessly eating my way around the country as inspired (in part) by Elizabeth Gilbert's book Eat, Pray, Love. Bruce Kirkby's book, The Dolphin's Tooth (highly recommended adventure reading) has a number of places in it that I have added to my travel list. I'm inspired not just by the written word, but by word of mouth, too. Oh, you just came back from vacation? Let's talk about it! I'd love to hear where you went, what you did, how you found it, etc. Maybe that will be the key place that I did not know I wanted to see until I talked to you, or maybe you just added more excitement to a place I already want to see because you gave me more ideas for when I get there. Oh, you've lived somewhere else before I met you here? Great! What's your "back home" like? Tell me more about where you lived, what you liked to do there, what you'd recommend I try when I get there? Movies are another form of storytelling that inspire me to travel. As corny as some may think it sounds, I've always been interested in South Africa after seeing my favourite movie, The Gods Must Be Crazy, set there many years ago. I'm inspired to visit Southeast Asia now after part of Lara Croft: Tomb Raider was set there, and the annual film/slide show event put on by my peers in the Ecotourism & Outdoor Leadership program always shows me new places to see and adventures to be had there (The Love of Travel by Mike Wenzlawe and 2012 ETOL Churchill Rive Expedition by Craig Oldfield, part of this year's entries).
I can't live without travel, and no one can live forever without food, so why not use food as a reason to travel? A few years ago, the other half and I starting doing trips that were based around trying food in its origins. For example, we went to Philadelphia, PA for philly cheesesteaks after researching to find who had originally started it. A trip to Atlantic City not only for the boardwalk experience, but for some salt water taffy, too. Twice we've been to Chicago, IL for deep-dish pizza, and what would a holiday in Switzerland be without trying Swiss chocolate (or 20 lbs of it, in some cases other than mine...)? Oh, you have a cool donut shop called Voodoo Doughnut in Portland, OR? Ok, I've never been to Portland before so let's go! Purdy's Chocolates originated in Vancouver? I can get them across the country, but I prefer to try them while I'm there. Oh, your ice wine is made in Niagara-On-The-Lake, ON? I'm on my way down there to try it. Poutine has its origins in Quebec? What better reason to visit La Belle Province? When we get ourselves over to The Netherlands to visit the other half's cousin, I plan to indulge in all of the Dutch foods I can get my hands on (except seafood/fish/marine life - I'm phobic). We've even planned a side trip to Belgium to compare Belgian chocolate to Dutch chocolate to Swiss chocolate. One of us is a chocolaholic and it isn't me... On a cycling trip through the Okanagan in BC this summer, my school friends and I were sitting next the orchard from which the apples for the cider we'd just bought came. One of my favourite parts while visiting NZ recently was discovering that Kiwis often enjoy a hamburger with a fried egg on it - delicious! Our pending trip to San Fran has already had a number of specific foods incorporated into the itinerary such as a trip to indulge in Ghirardelli chocolates and lunch at a restaurant in Napa owned by the author of a cookbook enjoyed at our house. Personally, I think no visit to Napa would be complete without a trip to ABC: Alexis Baking Company. I could be bias, but I doubt it.
What inspires you to travel?
For example, I know that the need to travel is an innate part of me. I like to think it's embedded in my DNA on a primitive level, that it's been hard-wired into my being since the beginning. How else to explain the fact that life seems unworth living if the opportunity to go places, meet people, see things and embark on adventures were taken away? Losing my passport seems worse than the prospect of losing a limb even when there is plenty of travel to be had on a national level. Travel is a non-negotiable part of my life equation. It all boils down to 3 simple words: Go. See. Do.
But why do I love to travel so much? Genetic explanation aside, I see my reasons as being multi-factoral. My family, for example, is one of those reasons. My dad's side has always lived pretty close by, but my mum's side lives across the country as well as on the other side of the world. When one goes back another generation, or further into the cousins section, both sides of my family are scattered around the world. I was a toddler the first time I travelled overseas to the U.K., and still a baby when I first travelled to the U.S. I was in elementary school the first time I flew alone "out West" to visit my grandparents, and in my 20s, I returned to England (by myself) to visit family and friends of the family for 3 weeks. It took me nearly a decade of saving and sporadic planning, but a couple of years ago, I took myself down to NZ to visit my uncle and his wife for nearly a month - people I was related to but barely knew. Heck, I've even dropped in on other people's family for a visit - my friend's cousin's fiancee's brother and their parents put me up for the night in the south of Switzerland when I was a random stranger passing through in 2005. Now that I live multiple provinces away from my nuclear family but closer to my mum's relatives, I've been working on getting to know some of them better with random, sporadic visits when time allows.
Friends, too, are one of my reasons to see the world. When I was hiking in NZ, I met a great group of people from all different parts of the world - The Netherlands, Scotland, Australia, England, NZ... I'd like to visit each of them where they live to see their countries through their eyes. That's one of the great things about travel: when you meet people who live in the places you are visiting, they enrich your experience by sharing a part of their everyday lives with you. Whether it's something as simple as running errands with them and seeing the types of shops that they frequent, eating at their favourite restaurant that may or may not be known to tourists, or a trip through the countryside to one of their favourite gelato places, these are my ways of working to understand the location as a local person does - especially if my visit is a short one. Tourist attractions are great - don't get me wrong - but I enjoy visiting the preschool that my newly-met little cousins attend, the beach that my other cousins like to walk on to find treasures, the pizza place that my friends love eating at, the church that a family friend rings the bells at every Sunday, or the local hiking trail that my friend just discovered and can't wait to share with me. I don't always want to see places as a "tourist"; I want to see how the locals live, too.
Stories inspire me to travel. In 2005, I jetted off to Zurich, Switzerland to see the Bahnhoffstrasse, the waterfront, and the infamous Swiss banking institutions (the subtle ones for people with serious money were harder to find), all because I had read about them in the Jason Bourne series of books by Robert Ludlum and wanted to see if they looked the same in real life as I had pictured them while reading. The next time I return to Italy, I will be looking for the places written about in The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown as well as shamelessly eating my way around the country as inspired (in part) by Elizabeth Gilbert's book Eat, Pray, Love. Bruce Kirkby's book, The Dolphin's Tooth (highly recommended adventure reading) has a number of places in it that I have added to my travel list. I'm inspired not just by the written word, but by word of mouth, too. Oh, you just came back from vacation? Let's talk about it! I'd love to hear where you went, what you did, how you found it, etc. Maybe that will be the key place that I did not know I wanted to see until I talked to you, or maybe you just added more excitement to a place I already want to see because you gave me more ideas for when I get there. Oh, you've lived somewhere else before I met you here? Great! What's your "back home" like? Tell me more about where you lived, what you liked to do there, what you'd recommend I try when I get there? Movies are another form of storytelling that inspire me to travel. As corny as some may think it sounds, I've always been interested in South Africa after seeing my favourite movie, The Gods Must Be Crazy, set there many years ago. I'm inspired to visit Southeast Asia now after part of Lara Croft: Tomb Raider was set there, and the annual film/slide show event put on by my peers in the Ecotourism & Outdoor Leadership program always shows me new places to see and adventures to be had there (The Love of Travel by Mike Wenzlawe and 2012 ETOL Churchill Rive Expedition by Craig Oldfield, part of this year's entries).
I can't live without travel, and no one can live forever without food, so why not use food as a reason to travel? A few years ago, the other half and I starting doing trips that were based around trying food in its origins. For example, we went to Philadelphia, PA for philly cheesesteaks after researching to find who had originally started it. A trip to Atlantic City not only for the boardwalk experience, but for some salt water taffy, too. Twice we've been to Chicago, IL for deep-dish pizza, and what would a holiday in Switzerland be without trying Swiss chocolate (or 20 lbs of it, in some cases other than mine...)? Oh, you have a cool donut shop called Voodoo Doughnut in Portland, OR? Ok, I've never been to Portland before so let's go! Purdy's Chocolates originated in Vancouver? I can get them across the country, but I prefer to try them while I'm there. Oh, your ice wine is made in Niagara-On-The-Lake, ON? I'm on my way down there to try it. Poutine has its origins in Quebec? What better reason to visit La Belle Province? When we get ourselves over to The Netherlands to visit the other half's cousin, I plan to indulge in all of the Dutch foods I can get my hands on (except seafood/fish/marine life - I'm phobic). We've even planned a side trip to Belgium to compare Belgian chocolate to Dutch chocolate to Swiss chocolate. One of us is a chocolaholic and it isn't me... On a cycling trip through the Okanagan in BC this summer, my school friends and I were sitting next the orchard from which the apples for the cider we'd just bought came. One of my favourite parts while visiting NZ recently was discovering that Kiwis often enjoy a hamburger with a fried egg on it - delicious! Our pending trip to San Fran has already had a number of specific foods incorporated into the itinerary such as a trip to indulge in Ghirardelli chocolates and lunch at a restaurant in Napa owned by the author of a cookbook enjoyed at our house. Personally, I think no visit to Napa would be complete without a trip to ABC: Alexis Baking Company. I could be bias, but I doubt it.
What inspires you to travel?
Saturday, February 26, 2011
The Memory Coast - Prescription for Fun
Photos: 1) Good morning, Mount Baker! You are very clear today. 2) Canada won 26 medals in the 2010 Winter Olympics, just in case you didn't know. 3) Gorgeous scenery while snowshoeing at Cypress Mountain. 4) Goodnight, Vancouver Island. See you on my next visit.
It's another early morning. Anyone sensing a theme yet? Believe me, it's not intentional - I'm just one of "those" people. Anyway, I'm up early enough to take another set of photos of the sun coming up behind The Bridge! It's another clear, sunny day so Mount Baker is hugely visible in the distance. Exciting! This does not happen too often when I'm out here.
I use the time to tidy up around the apartment, hurl my scattered belongings into a pile that does NOT look as though it's all going to fit into one bag for the return to Calgary, and write a few postcards.
I hustle outside to meet Sare at the appointed time, but have a few minutes to photograph some poor cherry blossoms with frost on them. They seem rather confused: keep trying to bloom or give up and hibernate until this "cold" snap passes for good? Oh good, Sare's here! I haven't seen her for a few years, and we've a date to go snowshoeing at Cypress Mountain this morning. Last time I saw her, we did the Grouse Grind with her daughter, Claire. Any friend who enjoys being out and active is a good friend to have!
I'm not sure I've been up Cypress recently. I know my mum, Joyce and I went up Mt. Seymour for a looky-look last summer, but now I'm excited to see where (some of) the 2010 Olympic events were held at Cypress. It's like visiting history :). Wow, what a perfect day to drink in the great views and scenery! It's sunny (RIDICULOUS! I know, two days in a row!), blue skies, sparkling white snow, lush green forest. Oh-em-gee! We get our tickets and rentals sorted out, then sit down to figure out how the snowshoes attach to our feet.
Soon enough, we're stomping our way out onto the first uphill section. Given the fact that I last snowshoed when I was about 11 years old, in the old-school heavy wooden shoes, these lightweight, modern aluminum ones take a big of getting used to. I can't help feeling that I'm dragging my feet, normally a habit I abhor and avoid at all costs. Meh, who cares? It's gorgeous up here!
We consult our trail maps on occasion, winding our way uphill through the fantastic old forest. Oh cool! A deep snow sinkhole! Avoid, yes, but it's awesome to look down into it. Man, these trees are amazing, and everytime I look up, the sky is nothing but blue. The sun makes the snow gleam and I'm happy (and sweating like crazy). Sare and I manage to have great conversation as we shuffle along. We cross the nordic trails cautiously as some of these XC skiers look a bit intense as they whiz by. We've essentially got our trails to ourselves and there really aren't too many people out overall. I should come out here during the week more often!
A short break at the high hut involves some medicinal Snickers and water. I'm not going to argue with that. A cute little squirrel and some other snowshoers are nice company. Sare and I opt to continue slogging upward to the top of the nordic area. After all, that's where the great views and rarified air are, haha. I'm trying to figure out why I'm still breathing heavily uphill when I've been living at altitude in Calgary for the last 8 months. I'm acclimatized by now, and Cypress is at a lower altitude, but alas. I see no major advantage yet.
Winding our way back down to the lower hut in a big loop, we stop to admire views and pick trails. At one point, I can see the mountains in the Fraser Valley way off in the distance. That's how I know it's a nice, clear day :) No wonder my grandma loved the mountains. It's so much fun to be stomping around out here in such nice weather with great company. We encounter a mad group of students hacking around with XC skiis outside the lower hut, and duck into the quieter back room for a snack.
Refreshed and re-energized, we make our way back to the parking area in time for a photo to prove we returned safely. Back at the apt., we bid each other a fond farewell and I opt for the elevator to give my tired legs a break. After a rest, I run some local errands, snag a few photos of the end of the sunset, and tuck into bed early to enjoy my new book. Tomorrow is my last day here.
Friday, February 25, 2011
The Memory Coast - Happy Places
Photos: 1) Spring has (tried to be) sprung on the North Shore ... but might have suffered with the recent plunging temps. 2) Beach love in Ambleside in the early morning. 3) Nemo whizzing past some peculiar looking coral-ish stuff at the Vancouver Aquarium. 4) Dear Sea Otter, Thanks for making me smile today. Love, Alexis. 5) Sunset reflections in Vancouver and the North Shore Mountains as seen from Mo's place. The tiny building with the rounded roof at the bottom of the photo (left of middle) is her former school.
There were a few things I wanted to accomplish on this trip. To me, this isn't a typical vacation. Wait - do I ever take typical vacations? Regardless, as I've mentioned before, this time out here is of the reflective kind, a time to reminisce and learn to accept a rather significant change a little more so that I can keep moving forward. That being said, I wanted to spend some time alone with my thoughts and happy memories in some of my happy places out here. Today is that day.
Up early as usual, I start with a nice slow stroll along the seawall, east toward Ambleside. It's pretty cold out this morning (cold for Vancouver) so I've got my travel mug with tea in it for warmth. The sun's coming out over the bridge (SUN! in VANCOUVER!!) and I stop to look at things along the way. I love exploring beaches. They have so much cool stuff on them. I see a few mosaics that I haven't noticed before, and I spot Mr. Heron floating on a log offshore. I usually see him poking around at low tide, but the tide is in right now. Joggers and energetic walkers pass me at a torrid pace. Normally, I move at that same pace, but not this morning. I stop to take photos and eventually I get to "Come When You're Called Park" (can you tell we were naughty grandchildren who didn't listen well?) where I think about all the fun times we had playing here.
I find some smoothed beach glass and tuck it safely in my pocket. I examine cool pebbles and photograph some neat kelp. I briefly watch a man doing tai chi and remember that my grandma did tai chi in the mornings. I poke around the community gardens and find signs of spring with little flowers showing. I wander my way back to the apt and soon it's time to head over The Bridge! to Vancouver.
My first stop is another happy place: the Vancouver Aquarium. My favourite part are the sea otters because they're cute, furry and make me smile even when I'm feeling a little sad like today. I'm lugging around a bundle of flowers in a bucket as a thank you to my friend who is having me for dinner later, but I talk the girl at the desk into letting me leave them there for a few hours.
I wander around the Aquarium for a few hours, taking lots of photos, watching a few shows and just feeling better. The sea otters make me smile, the dolphins make me laugh, and the belugas make me want to visit the Arctic some day. The frog exhibit is still here, but some yummy mummy with a very loud voice (who knows everything) is annoying so I detour to the Pacific Coast section until she moves on. I find the jellyfish which is nice since I missed them last time. Oh look, an octopus! I overhear a volunteer saying that the previous octopus is in the nursery with her babies. I guess having 8 arms will help her care for them. I see the sea turtle swim overhead and I think of my Mum.
Soon enough, Mo finds me in the gift shop and we head to her place for dinner. Along the way, we stop to see the inukshuk at English Bay (how have I not seen this here since 1987?), I learn a bit more about Yaletown, and we explore a little park next to the Athlete's Village for the 2010 Olympics. I'm excited to see their quarters as I missed so much of the Olympics last year. Cool! Mo shows me the cute school she last taught at before she retired, then we're taking in the views of Vancouver and the North Shore from her rooftop deck. Wow! No direct sunset tonight, but her collection of sunset photos from the deck are great to look at online.
A lovely healthy dinner with some great conversation and the time is flying by. I'm glad to be getting a chance to know her better. She's also teaching me a lot about Vancouver as a life-long resident. As a periodic visitor for the last 34 years, there's still lots for me to learn. Pretty soon dessert and photos are over and I thank her for a great time as she drops me to the North Shore. A presto!
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The Memory Coast - We're snowed in!
Photos: (top) How to clear the snow off your car if you live in Victoria, BC. (middle) My Canadian pannekoeken (hybrid between a crepe and a pancake, kind of) at De Dutch. Seriously recommended! (bottom) Well, there WERE signs of spring in Victoria...
As seems to be my normal pattern, I woke up early this morning and pulled the drapes aside to check the weather. Holy cow, we're knee-deep in snow! Did I warp back to Calgary overnight? No, wait. I'm still in Victoria. Oh dear. I don't think residents here have much experience with 10-12 cm of fresh snowfall of the heavy, wet kind especially. Doesn't Vancouver share a single snowplow with Victoria, sending it back and forth on the ferry as required?
Soon enough, Karen's up and nearly falling over with shock at the sight of the yard. And did I mention it's STILL snowing? Time for breakfast so we can figure out our plan for the day.
Off we shuffle up the snowy street to a great restaurant called De Dutch. http://www.dedutch.com/ If you haven't yet tried this place, you're crazier than a bed bug. It is seriously good! My pancake is the size of a real Italian pizza and Karen is kind enough to let me try her two dishes of YUM. I'm thinking of my Aunt Corry while I eat. Being of Dutch descent, I bet she'd really like it here. In fact, I'm now feeling more inspired than ever to make a return visit to the Netherlands soon. Omnomnomnom.
Soon enough, Karen's up and nearly falling over with shock at the sight of the yard. And did I mention it's STILL snowing? Time for breakfast so we can figure out our plan for the day.
Off we shuffle up the snowy street to a great restaurant called De Dutch. http://www.dedutch.com/ If you haven't yet tried this place, you're crazier than a bed bug. It is seriously good! My pancake is the size of a real Italian pizza and Karen is kind enough to let me try her two dishes of YUM. I'm thinking of my Aunt Corry while I eat. Being of Dutch descent, I bet she'd really like it here. In fact, I'm now feeling more inspired than ever to make a return visit to the Netherlands soon. Omnomnomnom.
On the way back to Karen's place, we stop briefly at the bank. This city is in chaos. The roads are not plowed (and they're icy under the slushy snow), schools are closed, the sidewalks aren't really shoveled, no one has snow tires, buses are not on time, and oopsie, there's a fresh fender bender across the street now. We overhear someone at the bank mentioning that a cabbie just went into Elk Lake which happens to be on the way to the ferry that I need to get to tonight. Hmmmm. Not good. Everyone's moaning about the drive to work, but they kind of give me the evil eye when I shrug, laugh, and tell them I live in Calgary where this is nothing.
Back safely at Karen's (where I watched a guy clearing off his car with a dust pan), we hatch a plan to get me safely to the ferry and keep her safe at home. Now we've got time to put on a movie and do some cooking together so that I have good food to take with me. Did you know that yams are really dense when you're trying to chop them? Oi! Must be why I never eat them.
Mmmm, the kitchen is smelling REALLY good and I'm just about finished packing. How the heck have I accumulated so much stuff in a day?! I have this strange pattern of usually leaving a place with way more stuff than I arrived with, almost always unintentionally. Karen's been her usual kind self and I bid her a quick but heartfelt farewell when my cab pulls up. I hope it's not too long before I see her again.
Arriving at the ferry without incident, I am delighted to learn it is arriving sooner than I had written down. Time to read...until the departures lounge fills with hords of loud tweens. Good grief, where did they come from?? No longer able to concentrate as they are louder than my iPod, I stare blankly out the window and try to imagine how the people who live across the way go swimming when the tide is out as the water receeds seemingly half a kilometer from shore.
The ferry ride passes the time. I get excited when I spot two seals in the water beside the boat as we steam through the Gulf Islands. A few years ago, on the same journey, I saw another seal in the same general area. It's the little things that excite me. I watch the hords of tweens outside on the deck in the blasting arctic wind, running into it and blowing back from it. At least their screeches and hoots are a bit quieter when they're out there. I don't know how they haven't frozen to death yet. Another bit of excitement when we're about to cross open water: the elevators get shut down because the seas are rough enough that they can't operate safely. Cool! I board my bus in Tsawassen, hail a cab at the downtown bus terminal, and soon I am back on the North Shore. No signs of snow here!
The Memory Coast - To Victoria...and beyond?
Photos: 1) View from the ferry through the Gulf Islands. Sunny! but windy and cold on deck. 2) Early signs of spring in Sidney by the Sea. 3) Karen and I can't get over the size of this boot! Too bad the shop only had one. 4) Holy crap! This breakfast cereal is reputed to be amazing. I don't know this from personal experience.
Whew! An early morning today. I forgot to bring an alarm clock because I thought there was one here, but I'm using my watch and cell phone alarms as my alternatives. Handy for me, my mom's three timezones ahead right now and I've enlisted her to call me to make sure I'm up in time to catch my cab to the bus station downtown. It's a long way to the ferry in Tsawassen from West Van, but it'll be worth it to see my friend Karen again.
Karen and I shared an office at the hospital in London (ON) where we worked. She moved to Victoria about 3 years ago, but it's been close to 2 years since I visited her last. We've both been facing different challenges recently so it will be good to reconnect.
The ferry ride over is about 1.5 hours and passed uneventfully. Filled with restless energy again, I wandered around the various decks, braving the freezing winds to take some photos of the scenery. I've never ridden the ferry in winter before, but after living in Calgary for a while now, I'm prepared with mittens, scarf and hat along with my wool sweater and wool socks. Bring it, ocean crossing!
Oh look, it's Karen! There's my cute, petite friend waiting for me in Swartz Bay, just as I remember her. We start chatting immediately and exchange big hugs. A moment of hilarity when we can't find the car, then we're off down the highway to Sidney by the Sea. http://www.sidney.ca/Visitors.htm
This is a cute little town if you ever find yourself nearby. It's very close to the airport and ferry for Victoria, and the main street has quite the collection of great little shops to explore. We amble along slowly, trading stories and memories. I help her find some new kitchen knives and she treats me to a yummy smoothie. I find a gigantic Emu boot and she shows me a lavender store filled with products from a local farm. Lavender reminds me of my Nana (my Dad's mum) which makes me happy. We both have success in a great shoe store and I meet Brutus the Magnificent, an Italian Mastiff with a fancy pedigree. His name is actually in Italian, but my Italian skills are not up to par so I wrote the English translation. He is a big, big dog but very well behaved. I learn from his owner that he loves shopping and has his own Facebook page.
A delicious lunch in a great little cafe, some more shopping success and we are on our way back to Victoria, tired but happy. We stop to pick up a few treats for the evening at a local organic store, make a few comments about the bit of snow falling, then it's movie time! We opt for some humour in "The Gods Must Be Crazy 2" after discovering we both love the original. My caramel chocolates from Rogers' Chocolates are delicious! http://www.rogerschocolates.com/ You need to try some too. Our sun-dried tomato and cheese popcorn is quite tasty, and our fruity spritzers hit the spot. Some more chatting and reminiscing, then it's time for bed. Another day of fun awaits us tomorrow.
Karen and I shared an office at the hospital in London (ON) where we worked. She moved to Victoria about 3 years ago, but it's been close to 2 years since I visited her last. We've both been facing different challenges recently so it will be good to reconnect.
The ferry ride over is about 1.5 hours and passed uneventfully. Filled with restless energy again, I wandered around the various decks, braving the freezing winds to take some photos of the scenery. I've never ridden the ferry in winter before, but after living in Calgary for a while now, I'm prepared with mittens, scarf and hat along with my wool sweater and wool socks. Bring it, ocean crossing!
Oh look, it's Karen! There's my cute, petite friend waiting for me in Swartz Bay, just as I remember her. We start chatting immediately and exchange big hugs. A moment of hilarity when we can't find the car, then we're off down the highway to Sidney by the Sea. http://www.sidney.ca/Visitors.htm
This is a cute little town if you ever find yourself nearby. It's very close to the airport and ferry for Victoria, and the main street has quite the collection of great little shops to explore. We amble along slowly, trading stories and memories. I help her find some new kitchen knives and she treats me to a yummy smoothie. I find a gigantic Emu boot and she shows me a lavender store filled with products from a local farm. Lavender reminds me of my Nana (my Dad's mum) which makes me happy. We both have success in a great shoe store and I meet Brutus the Magnificent, an Italian Mastiff with a fancy pedigree. His name is actually in Italian, but my Italian skills are not up to par so I wrote the English translation. He is a big, big dog but very well behaved. I learn from his owner that he loves shopping and has his own Facebook page.
A delicious lunch in a great little cafe, some more shopping success and we are on our way back to Victoria, tired but happy. We stop to pick up a few treats for the evening at a local organic store, make a few comments about the bit of snow falling, then it's movie time! We opt for some humour in "The Gods Must Be Crazy 2" after discovering we both love the original. My caramel chocolates from Rogers' Chocolates are delicious! http://www.rogerschocolates.com/ You need to try some too. Our sun-dried tomato and cheese popcorn is quite tasty, and our fruity spritzers hit the spot. Some more chatting and reminiscing, then it's time for bed. Another day of fun awaits us tomorrow.
The Memory Coast - Peace. And quiet.
Photos: 1) 4 generations - My great-grandma Jack (maternal), Grandma, Mum & I. My great-grandma died not long after this meeting so I don't have any memories of her. 2) My early love for beaches and all of the neat things that can be found on them! 3) Grandma and I catching up in the living room at Silverdale, their place in the Fraser Valley. 4) Helping Grandma get rhubarb ready for freezing and canning on the front porch at Silverdale.
My first day out here was a bit of a long day. Luckily, now that I live in Calgary, the flight to Vancouver is ridiculously short! I had a good time chatting for a while with one of my seatmates who is originally from Kitchener (an hour down the highway from my last abode in ON), now living in Calgary and headed to Vancouver & Whistler to couch-surf with friends for a week.
My (mom's) friend Mare was kind enough to meet me at the airport and I happily accepted her offer of a cup of tea before she dropped me on the North Shore. Well, you know how it is with good friends. I ended up staying at their place for a while, enjoying great tea and a nice lunch along with lovely chats with Mare, Ian and their neighbour, Hazel. It's nice to catch up with such kind people. It snowed a little off and on while we visited, but kept changing to rain so I didn't think much of it.
All too soon I was heading upstairs to our place in West Van. Everything here is so familiar to me, and yet, on a fundamental level, there's unfamiliarity now. I'm glad that the elevator still smells like "old people" (sorry, Mum. I know you said I shouldn't say that) and as soon as the door to the apartment opens, it still smells like "the apt". Those are reassuring to me. But after Mare left, an unfamiliar silence appeared. I've never been here alone since my grandma died. This is my third visit in the last nine months, but my family was here the other times. I thought to myself, "It's so quiet" and I started to cry. I'm crying as I type this too. This is the hardest part for me, to accept the silence and learn to live with it. I know my grandma's gone, that she's not just in another room or having a nap, but the silence is another indicator of her absence that I'm learning to face.
I had myself a cry, then I called Sean and cried some more. It's funny: I couldn't sit still in the apt. I was tired from a few nights of not sleeping well, my body was an hour ahead and I hadn't eaten dinner yet, but I was filled with this restlessness as I talked on the phone and paced around. After talking with Sean for a while, I called my parents to tell them I'd arrived safely. I cried some more, and it made me feel good to realize that my mum understood exactly what I meant about the silence. She's had to face it too and I can't imagine how hard that must have been for her.
Feeling a bit calmer after my phone calls, I wandered around a bit more then made it an early night. It'll be an early morning as I head to Victoria for a visit with another friend.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
The Memory Coast - The 3 "R"s
Photos: (top) 3 generations of blue eyes - Grandma, Mum & I. (middle) Taking in the view of Stanley Park and Vancouver from the North Shore. (bottom) My grandma fostered my love of reading too. I still have the Tall Book of Make Believe.
Nine months ago, my maternal grandmother passed away at home in her sleep at the ripe old age of 94 1/2. All of my life, she lived in West Vancouver, B.C. I am her oldest grandchild and her only granddaughter.
It's been a bit of a hectic nine months since she died. I quit a job, moved across the country, started a new job, and went back to school. I also got to see more of the western United States along with places like Edmonton, Yellowstone National Park, Big Sky, Banff & Kananaskis. I stopped in some fun places between Calgary and West Van when I drove out there twice this summer to see my immediate family. I credit my grandma for my love of travel.
Tomorrow, I'm headed out to West Van on my Reading Week to spend some time by myself. Just me and the three "R"s: reflection, reminiscing, and maybe remembering how to relax. I haven't been to the apartment on my own since before last May and I'm not really sure how I'm going to feel. I'm sure there will be some tears shed but there are also a lot of happy memories there too. There's a part of me on the Coast; there always has been.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Kiwi Quest 2010 - The longest day of my life
My Kiwi Quest 2010 travel blog is dedicated to my Grandma. She didn't live to see it finally finished, but she loved all the entries she read, enthusiastically followed my trip vicariously from home, and it's from her that I get my love of travel.
Photos: 1) Uncle Ross & Liz bid me a fond farewell at the airport in Auckland 2) Sydney Opera House and Harbour Bridge 3) Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco 4) Can I take this plane home? I'm tired of waiting... 5) Currency confusion back home: (L-R) Australia, US, New Zealand, Canada
March 2, 2010 is officially and literally the longest day of my life thus far. By the end of this calendar day, I will have landed in four different countries, spending about 22 hours in the air along with about 15 hours on the ground. I know that adds up to more than 24 hours, but I crossed numerous time zones as well as the international date line so while I will leave New Zealand on March 2, I will also land in Toronto on the same day. I still can't wrap my head around this.
Alas, it's that time. It's 0520, but it's also my last day in this country until I come back. I'm full of mixed feelings today. I'm still sick with this horrid sore throat so there are parts of me who just want to go home, get hugs from my parents, and sleep in a familiar place, but I've had such an incredible time here that there are other parts of me that clamour for more time! more time! I've done so many things in the last 3.5 weeks: finally seen California, Australia and New Zealand, counted more sheep than ever before, gotten to know my uncle and aunt much better, met some really cool people from all over the world, pushed myself mentally and physically much further than I ever thought I could, feasted my senses on an incredible country, and even learned bits and pieces of a new language. It's really hard to realize it will probably take me some time before I can get back here for another visit. My to-do list for my return is growing by the minute.
One more shower to come to my senses, a quick breakfast, much grunting and heaving of luggage out to the car (where did this third bag come from?!), then Ross, Liz and I are whipping off to the airport. Thankfully, the check-in process goes smoothly and we've got good time left for some shopping. Seriously, these airports are really good places to shop! It's a previous unknown to me and I'm glad I brought that extra bag with me. I get a little worried when Liz presents me with a pop quiz about the postcard in her hand, but as soon as the word "pohutukawa" rolls easily off my tongue, she presents me with the postcard as a prize, a smile of delight on her face. You see, three weeks ago, I couldn't say that word properly to save my life, and now it feels nearly second nature to incorporate Maori words into my vocab.
Uh-oh, time to say good-bye. This part's always hard. I barely knew these kind family members of mine when I came here, and they took a flyer on having me stay with them, so I'm incredibly grateful to them for helping make my first trip to New Zealand such a great and memorable one. One more hug, one more heartfelt thank-you, and I'm airside, looking up to see them waving me off. I'll be back, don't you worry :)
I must have done something right today: I have two empty seats beside me! Can I tell you again how much I love flying with Air New Zealand? I love my hot pastry breakfast (free) and I'm entertained by watching "Up In The Air" as well as re-watching "The Hangover" for some laughs.
Hey, look! It's the Sydney Opera House and the Harbour Bridge! Ok, they're a few thousand feet below me, but they're still really super cool. I think I even see Nemo! And I'm quite sure that's Louise down there waving at me. I've got a 6 hour layover here and have thought about seeing a bit of the city like I did in Amsterdam a few years ago, but in my travelling haze, I accidently stay airside and will need to find a way to occupy myself in the departures area. Grrr. Oh well, I'll just have to come back and Louise can show me 'round. Lucky for me, the airport in Sydney is pretty good for killing time with free internet at kiosks and lots of shopping opportunities. The only annoying part is that I'm having a lot of difficulty figuring out how to call home on my calling card. Time for tea and to read my book.
My concentration is soon interrupted by some commotion at a nearby gate. A man with a Mexican passport is not being allowed to board a flight to Vancouver because he doesn't have a Canadian visa. Oh dear, he's REALLY upset; no screaming or threats, but I'm certain he's on the verge of tears, most likely compounded by the fact that the rest of his party has already boarded without problem. Air Canada tells him repeatedly that they're very sorry, but if they let him deplane in Vancouver without a Canadian visa, they face a $10,000 fine and he faces jail. Eeep! I can't watch this anymore. He's crying now.
My spirits lift a bit later (after some shopping for er, therapeutic reasons) when the overhead paging system starts announcing to the specific passengers missing from a flight about to leave that because they haven't shown themselves at the gate, the ground crew are now unloading their luggage. You've got to love their honesty. Reminds me of some of the weird and entertaining announcements I hear on the paging system at the hospital where I work. The other cheery part about this airport is trying to figure out why their air traffic control tower across the way has what looks like a covered slide winding down around the outside. Is it a crazy carpet slide? A waterslide? A fun way to spend a break from a stressful job?
At last my flight to San Francisco is boarding, but not before I've had to go through an additional security check complete with bag search (in the Departures lounge, as in I've already been through security with a bag search there) and had to get a different boarding card unexpectedly. I'm really tired and I just want to sleep for this 17 hour segment. I get some good luck with an empty middle seat beside me as well as a blanket and pillow waiting for me, but it's somewhat offset by the loud Canadian woman behind me complaining about everything to the two Canadians beside her. Am I seated in the Canadian section? I can't even pick what movie to watch because this United flight only has the old-school overhead screens that show you what they feel like watching. Sleeeeeeeep......where are you? I stare out the window at the Pacific Ocean for hour after sleepless hour.
Ok, what the heck country is this we're landing in? Let's see: heavy fog, rain, water, a red bridge.... I'm hoping this is San Francisco, another first for me. By now, it's March 3 in New Zealand, but it's still March 2 where I am now. I only know the actual time by the announcements because my watch is on NZ time (and still is although I'm writing this in May - I can't quite bring myself to change it back yet), but thankfully I've only got a three hour layover here. That should be time enough to find my gate and get some food. Tired + hungry + sick = cranky.
First, however, I have to get past the US Department of Agriculture people to whom I am directed by the US Dept of Homeland Security (that's what their stamp in my passport says) after I indicated that I had been on a farm in the last couple of weeks on my customs card. What now? Please tell me I don't have to dig my hiking boots out of my giant pack again like I did when I landed in New Zealand last month. Nope, they just want to wash my running shoes. Hey, I like this gig! I stand around for a while in my socks, watching various people attempt to hide illegal things they're bringing into the country (WHY would you tell them you didn't pack your bag yourself, you idiot!?), then when my beat up shoes are relinquished, I squelch off to my gate. I think this is cleanest my shoes have been since I bought them.
Time to board, line up with the cattle class to watch the important people go first. Wait a minute, they're coming back off the plane. What the hell? After a while, the gate crew announces that there's a mechanical problem with a circuit breaker and we'll resume boarding again "soon". I wish I spoke gate attendant better - I'm not sure when "soon" is so I daren't wander too far afield. I eavesdrop shamelessly on other people asking when "soon" is, but when the answer is "soon", I give up and try to find a seat. I can't concentrate enough to read so I call my parents who are meeting me in Toronto to advise them of the delay. I pace the boarding lounge, I pace our end of the terminal, I listen to my iPod for the first time since leaving Canada weeks ago, I watch a DEA agent patrol the terminal with his dog, I watch the rain falling outside, I watch luggage fall off unnoticed from luggage carts whizzing across the tarmack, I watch my plane sit there for hours. Three extra ones, to be precise. Is this day ever going to end?
When we finally board for real, I assume that some other airline lent mine a new circuit breaker after we were told that the maintenance crew would have to go scrounge one at some other airline hanger because Air Canada doesn't have a base in San Fran. I don't want to know if they just decided to go ahead without a new part because at this point, I just don't care. Once again, I have an empty middle seat beside me and I settle in diagonally to watch "The Blind Side" which I really enjoy. This is my 10th flight in less than a month. I know how to occupy as much extra space as I can to my benefit without distrupting the other person in the row. I touch my screen gently because the lady behind me is pounding on hers and it's bouncing my head somewhat. I'm too tired to tell her off.
At last! we are landing in Toronto and I can recognize the highways around the airport in the dark. I'm something of a customs expert now, and although I'm a bit worried that they'll confiscate my new bowl made of reclaimed kauri wood, I'm prepared to deal with it because I'd be stupid not to declare it and risk getting busted. I saddle myself with my ridiculously heavy bags and stagger towards the customs dude. He asks me if the bowl is finished, I silently praise myself for spending the extra bit of money on the finished one and reply yes, then I'm out the doors and looking for people who gave me their DNA. It's about 11:30pm on March 2 so I have completed this journey home in one calendar day to officially make this THE longest day of my life. I hug my excited parents hard and mutter, "There's no place like home"...
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Kiwi Quests 2010 - Old MacDonald's Kiwi farm
Photos: 1) The auther unknowingly about to get splattered by the Pohutu geyser erupting in the background 2) Maori warrior coming out to challenge us during the cultural performance 3) It's very important to respect Papatuanuku 4) Our sheep herding demonstration in action 5) Carbon dating a ewe who is about to be sheared 6) The ostrich who tried to swallow my finger 7) Kiwi fruit growing in the organic orchard.
I can't believe this is my last full day in New Zealand. Where have the last three amazing weeks gone?
It's 0520 and my alarm is ringing to tell me that yep, my throat is still killing me. Must. push. on! I didn't come all the way to the (near) bottom of the world to be sidelined by some exotic germs. Liz kindly offers me a selection of painkillers for breakfast (the aspirin marked "Jakarta 1998" gets chosen out of sheer curiosity) and Uncle Ross even donates his own supply of medicine now that he's feeling much better. I buy myself a tea and some throat lozenges at the bus station and am soon greeted by a very friendly bus driver named Colin who looks eerily like Mr. Bean's twin brother. Colin is much chattier than Mr. Bean is portrayed so I shall tell them apart by their different accents. He's quite pleased to have a Canadian on board for the day, and updates me on the Olympic hockey games I've missed thus far.
Today's journey will take me south of Auckland, but not to the South Island. A nice warm blueberry muffin treat later and we've arrived at our first uber-tourist stop: Waitomo Glow Worm Caves. Normally, I wouldn't be seeking any kind of close-up experience with worms, but these ones are reputed to be super cool so I'll give it a shot. The Waitomo glowworm, Arachnocampa luminosa, is unique to New Zealand. After descending deep into limestone caves, you'll have the opportunity to see thousands of these little worms giving off their luminescent light. You can also see their sticky threads dangling from their perch in the ceiling. These threads are how they catch insects and bugs which fly down into the caves from outside. As you glide silently (unless the people next to you feel compelled to ignore the rules and talk about shopping for some reason) along the stream in the dark, look up overhead to take in the glittering beauty of hundreds of thousands of glow worms. They look like stars twinkling in the sky, but far closer at hand. It's a bit disorienting in a good way - I could swear that they were far away yet close enough to touch, at the same time. It's just incredible and really something that needs to be seen in person. http://www.waitomo.com/glowworm-caves-history.aspx
A quick detour to the gift shop for more postcards, then we're back on the bus with Mr. Kiwi Bean, heading to the Agrodome. There's a reason they call this place, "The Unique NZ Farming Experience". We start with a tractor ride to see the farm - animals and produce alike. They have a lot of different animals here - alpacas, llamas, the ubiquitous sheep, various cattle, pigs, red deer, dogs, emus, ostriches, etc. It's kind of like touring Old MacDonald's farm - if he had a Kiwi accent. I like this place because we get to hop off the "train" (being towed behind the tractor) and get close enough to the animals to touch them. We're warned, however, not to touch the cows because "Big Mac" (his real name, and he's HUGE) is ornery. The pigs are also off limits to hands because the father in the pen has a bad reputation for biting anything and anyone, and the ostriches don't get much patting because they peck. A lot. It's great fun to interact with all the other species, and I have a bunch of them eating out of my hand, literally. By now, I've had an ostrich attempt to swallow my finger, been pecked hard on my palm by an Australian emu, had an alpaca make threatening-to-spit noises at me, and watched a sheep suddenly kick another. At one point as we were back on the "train" and about to leave a paddock, I suddenly felt a warm body attempting to stuff itself between my legs as a stowaway. Looking down, it's a big, brown sheep, and I quickly take a photo before kicking it off the "train". Nice try, little buddy. I too wish you could come home with me.
I can't believe this is my last full day in New Zealand. Where have the last three amazing weeks gone?
It's 0520 and my alarm is ringing to tell me that yep, my throat is still killing me. Must. push. on! I didn't come all the way to the (near) bottom of the world to be sidelined by some exotic germs. Liz kindly offers me a selection of painkillers for breakfast (the aspirin marked "Jakarta 1998" gets chosen out of sheer curiosity) and Uncle Ross even donates his own supply of medicine now that he's feeling much better. I buy myself a tea and some throat lozenges at the bus station and am soon greeted by a very friendly bus driver named Colin who looks eerily like Mr. Bean's twin brother. Colin is much chattier than Mr. Bean is portrayed so I shall tell them apart by their different accents. He's quite pleased to have a Canadian on board for the day, and updates me on the Olympic hockey games I've missed thus far.
Today's journey will take me south of Auckland, but not to the South Island. A nice warm blueberry muffin treat later and we've arrived at our first uber-tourist stop: Waitomo Glow Worm Caves. Normally, I wouldn't be seeking any kind of close-up experience with worms, but these ones are reputed to be super cool so I'll give it a shot. The Waitomo glowworm, Arachnocampa luminosa, is unique to New Zealand. After descending deep into limestone caves, you'll have the opportunity to see thousands of these little worms giving off their luminescent light. You can also see their sticky threads dangling from their perch in the ceiling. These threads are how they catch insects and bugs which fly down into the caves from outside. As you glide silently (unless the people next to you feel compelled to ignore the rules and talk about shopping for some reason) along the stream in the dark, look up overhead to take in the glittering beauty of hundreds of thousands of glow worms. They look like stars twinkling in the sky, but far closer at hand. It's a bit disorienting in a good way - I could swear that they were far away yet close enough to touch, at the same time. It's just incredible and really something that needs to be seen in person. http://www.waitomo.com/glowworm-caves-history.aspx
A quick detour to the gift shop for more postcards, then we're back on the bus with Mr. Kiwi Bean, heading to the Agrodome. There's a reason they call this place, "The Unique NZ Farming Experience". We start with a tractor ride to see the farm - animals and produce alike. They have a lot of different animals here - alpacas, llamas, the ubiquitous sheep, various cattle, pigs, red deer, dogs, emus, ostriches, etc. It's kind of like touring Old MacDonald's farm - if he had a Kiwi accent. I like this place because we get to hop off the "train" (being towed behind the tractor) and get close enough to the animals to touch them. We're warned, however, not to touch the cows because "Big Mac" (his real name, and he's HUGE) is ornery. The pigs are also off limits to hands because the father in the pen has a bad reputation for biting anything and anyone, and the ostriches don't get much patting because they peck. A lot. It's great fun to interact with all the other species, and I have a bunch of them eating out of my hand, literally. By now, I've had an ostrich attempt to swallow my finger, been pecked hard on my palm by an Australian emu, had an alpaca make threatening-to-spit noises at me, and watched a sheep suddenly kick another. At one point as we were back on the "train" and about to leave a paddock, I suddenly felt a warm body attempting to stuff itself between my legs as a stowaway. Looking down, it's a big, brown sheep, and I quickly take a photo before kicking it off the "train". Nice try, little buddy. I too wish you could come home with me.
Our next stop on the "train" tour is the organic orchard where they grow kiwi fruit (Kiwis are New Zealanders whereas kiwi are the national bird), olives and feijoa, a type of fruit that I have yet to try. Much to my surprise, I discover that kiwi fruit grow on vines, up and over in a canopy under which I can duck to get a respite from the merciless sun beating down on my fair Northern Hemisphere skin. Soon we're sampling some kiwi fruit wine (my ignorant palate doesn't wince so it's good) and some kiwi fruit drink with aloe vera in it. I don't like that one as much, but it's probably better for me than too much wine. I wonder if it doubles as a sunburn remedy?
Now it's time for another sheep herding demonstration. I haven't seen one since the South Island so I'm looking forward to it. Our demo dog today does a great job of staring those sheep through their paces, outlining to us what skills are required to compete at Sheepdog trials. Our dog is herding 3 sheep because that's the ratio in the trials. The handler fellow uses a series of different whistle blasts and shouted commands to direct the dog while the sheep repeatedly attempt to go AWOL. The dog successfully herds them through a variety of obstacles and finally into a pen where the handler shuts the gate. At the Agrodome, the working dogs (ours is used primarily for tourist demos because he's semi-retired, but would still happily run all day if given the chance) aren't rewarded with food so our dog takes off across the paddock and hops into a big tub of water for a quick bath. This is his reward for an excellent demo job, and it's his favourite thing in the whole world. The sheep blandly resume grazing when they are let out of the pen.
Mr. Kiwi Bean is herding us back on the bus following an exciting shearing demonstration because it's time to head to Te Whakarewarewatanga O Te Ope Taua A Wahiao (abbreviated to "Whaka" by locals), a geothermic area near Rotorua. This was the site of the Maori fortress Te Puia which was first occupied in 1325, and Maori have lived here ever since. First on the agenda is a marvellous Maori cultural performance, truly a very interesting peek at Maori history and not to be missed. It begins with the powhiri (welcoming ceremony). Our audience of many elects a "chief" who is given a quick coaching by our Maori guide. Good thing he has the Coles notes because here comes a very fierce Maori warrior to challenge our group! If our chief does not accept his offering, then we're declaring war. Um, I'd rather not go to war while on vacation, thanks. Our chief elect decides to accept to indicate that we come in peace. Now we're allowed into the wharenui ("far-en-ooh-eee" meeting house) to listen to more drumming and singing, and to get further explanation about Maori, their culture, history and way of life. I seriously recommend this if you have an opportunity.
Following the cultural performance, we put our shoes and hats back on, and troop off to find our next Maori guide who will take us round to see the geysers in action. As we walk around the grounds, she gives us all kinds of information on the history of the area and how the geysers work. We also get a stern warning not to attempt to cross the fences into the mud pools. The mud is between 80-100 degrees C, and you won't last long if you decide you need a beauty treatment. No one will come to your rescue either! The Prince of Whales geyser is erupting as we near it which means the Pohutu geyser is getting restless nearby. These geysers are really cool to see and I don't even notice the smell of rotten eggs after a while. I do recommend keeping your camera under your shirt or some other dry place because when the wind shifts, the steaming sulphurous water being thrown up to 30m in the air will splatter you. If you're like me, you won't care about smelling bad or being damp; you'll just think it's entirely too cool! I half expected this area to look like the moon, all grey and bleak and desolate, considering that it's full of geysers, alkaline pools, and scalding mud, but I'm pleased to see how much greenery abounds between the active areas.
Off now to the kiwi (bird) house where, for the first time in my life, I will finally see a live kiwi!! This is truly a thrill because these nocturnal, shy, flightless birds are very difficult to spot in the wild. My early bedtime also works against me. The kiwi house at Whakarewarewa protects a male/female couple, and we have to be very quiet inside the dim building so as not to disturb them. Luckily for us, the female is out of bed and running around hunting insects. NEAT!! She's a bit hard to spot because the light is very low and her brown feathers camouflage well, but I manage to see her a few times, even with all the other tourists pressing into my personal space. The Maori have a special relation with the kiwi: they believe that the kiwi are under the protection of Tane Mahuta, god of the forest, so they no longer hunt the birds because they consider themselves their guardians. The kiwi feathers are still used in ceremonial cloaks, but the feathers are gathered from kiwi who die naturally or under other circumstances. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiwi
Yawn! I can't believe we're already headed back to Auckland. That means I'm leaving tomorrow! A very sad thought indeed although sleeping in one place for more than 3 days at a time is of interest to me. Mr. Kiwi Bean kindly calls his friend to find out the score from the men's Olympic hockey final, and both of the Canadians on the bus let out a hearty roar of approval when word of the gold medal reaches us. I'm glad to see Uncle Ross at the bus station to cheerily greet me at this late hour, and Liz cooks a fantastic dinner for my tired self. Eventually, I stagger down to my room to pack a few last minute things, and set my alarm for "horribly early" again. I'm really going to miss it here.......
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Kiwi Quest 2010 - Olympic tsunami!
Photos: 1) Dining nook at the Postmaster's Lodgings in Rawene, a 150-year old Kauri house 2) The wharf at Opononi 3) Ross & Liz take in the view of the wild Tasman Sea 4) Tane Mahuta, the oldest living Kauri tree in New Zealand 5) Uncle Ross dramatically introduces me to a tree that I've forgotten the name of.... it was great entertainment.
Well, today is a bit of a mash-up. While Uncle Ross is finally starting to feel better, by the end of today I will have come down with a sore throat.
The day started innocuously enough. While Ross and Liz enjoyed some leisurely morning reading, I amused myself by watching a bit of Olympic action on the telly. Being away from home during the entire Vancouver Olympics has been a bit difficult for someone who loves to watch them as much as I do, so whenever I have the chance (they are few and far between!), I am transfixed by the moving picture box. All was well and good until my Olympic fix was rudely interrupted by a tsunami warning for the east coast of New Zealand, triggered by the recent earthquake in Chile. I find myself somewhat disappointed that we're now on the west side of the country.
After a delicious breakfast out on the deck in the sunshine with my new feline friend (I hereby name you Achoo! because that is what you do to me) and a view for miles, it's time to pile back in the car to continue our journey back to Auckland. Our first stop is in Opononi on the Hokianga harbour, naturally just down the road from Omapere. According to Wikipedia, their combined population was 477 on the 2006 Census. Perhaps you've also heard of Opo, the orphaned wild bottlenose dolphin who became famous in New Zealand in the summer (our winter) of 1955-56 when she would play with the children of Opononi. Sadly, she was found dead on 9 March 1956, and was buried with full Maori honours in a special plot next to the town hall. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opo_(dolphin)
Well, today is a bit of a mash-up. While Uncle Ross is finally starting to feel better, by the end of today I will have come down with a sore throat.
The day started innocuously enough. While Ross and Liz enjoyed some leisurely morning reading, I amused myself by watching a bit of Olympic action on the telly. Being away from home during the entire Vancouver Olympics has been a bit difficult for someone who loves to watch them as much as I do, so whenever I have the chance (they are few and far between!), I am transfixed by the moving picture box. All was well and good until my Olympic fix was rudely interrupted by a tsunami warning for the east coast of New Zealand, triggered by the recent earthquake in Chile. I find myself somewhat disappointed that we're now on the west side of the country.
After a delicious breakfast out on the deck in the sunshine with my new feline friend (I hereby name you Achoo! because that is what you do to me) and a view for miles, it's time to pile back in the car to continue our journey back to Auckland. Our first stop is in Opononi on the Hokianga harbour, naturally just down the road from Omapere. According to Wikipedia, their combined population was 477 on the 2006 Census. Perhaps you've also heard of Opo, the orphaned wild bottlenose dolphin who became famous in New Zealand in the summer (our winter) of 1955-56 when she would play with the children of Opononi. Sadly, she was found dead on 9 March 1956, and was buried with full Maori honours in a special plot next to the town hall. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Opo_(dolphin)
This part of the Hokianga harbour is magnificent! Liz and I walk out to the end of the Opononi wharf to watch some Maori kids jumping off, and I read a big sign back at the beach which warns mariners all about the real dangers of the (sand) bars at the mouth of the harbour. They're really quite serious about these bars. There are 8 things you must do prior to crossing, while number 9 on the list says to stay away if you're in doubt. Looking toward the mouth of Hokianga harbour (twelve thousand years ago this was a river valley), I can see massive - and I mean massive by Ontario standards, my only frame of reference - sand dunes which help to explain the bars underwater there. Those dunes are so beautiful. I wish I could dash across the water to surf down them!
Instead, we're headed out to Arai te Uru Recreation Reserve, a little way down the road from Opononi, where we'll get great views of the whole harbour and the wild Tasman Sea outside these sheltered waters. The rocks out here are quite neat with swirls of orange-brown colours in them. Lots of cream and orange and brown and green, with sandy gravel paths underfoot. If I step nearly to the edge of the cliffs we're on, it's a l-o-n-g way down to some lovely sandy beaches by the crystal clear water. I take a few photos of the plunge to freak my mom out later.
I'm exploring the Waipoua Kauri forest with Ross & Liz now after we feel obliged to pay the guy sitting in a truck to keep an eye on the car. Feels like a bit of a scam, but whatever. We're here to see, in part, Tane Mahuta, Lord of the Forest. Coincidently, he's also the oldest living Kauri tree in New Zealand, about 2,000 years old. To give you an idea of just how massive he is - because photos really don't do him justice - his trunk height is 17.7 meters (about 58 feet), his total height is 51.5 meters (about 169 feet), and his trunk girth is 13.8 meters (about 45 feet). He's a big, B-I-G boy. Like me, you will get a kink in your neck gazing up at his absolute splendor. That's why these brilliant DOC (Department of Conservation) people have built a second viewing area a little further from him where you can get a better idea of his enourmous self. From this second viewing platform, the people at his base are so teeny tiny! No wonder he is the son of Ranginui (the Sky Father) and Papatuaunuku (the Earth Mother).
The Four Sisters are another important part of this Kauri forest. They are four Kauri trees which grow in very close proximity to one another in the Waipoua Kauri forest. They reach gracefully to the sky as we circle the viewing platform in wonder below them, straining our eyes upward while listening to the calls and cries of birds nearby. A quick stop a bit later gives me a chance to climb up the Forest Lookout - a former fire lookout that offers spectacular views of the endless forest beneath me. I can't get enough of all this greenery!
Stopping in Dargaville for a bite to eat, Liz and I linger at the Blah Blah Blah Cafe while Ross explores the local museum. The wooden carving of a kauri gumdigger in the foyer pays tribute to the people of Dalmation descent who came over in the 19th century when kauri logging and gum digging were popular. I amuse myself in the bathroom by spotting a clever map of the world on the wall - the traditional map is inverted so that New Zealand is no longer at the bottom, or no longer Down Under.
Home again, home again, jiggity-jig. We're toiling down the east coast road, enjoying the scenery rolling past such as the flourescent pink sheep (a live one running around in a paddock by the road) at Sheep World, but are detoured at one point by a reputed accident which has closed part of our route. This means we don't get home until after 7pm and I am wiped. I'm sick and tired, but never sick and tired of New Zealand, if you know what I mean. I slowly repack all of my belongings because I'm on a long day trip tomorrow, and an early flight the following day, so this is my last chance to get organized. I stare at the heap of clothes, souvenirs, and chocolate covering the floor and bed, and I wonder if I will ever sleep tonight...
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Kiwi Quest 2010 - Ocean vs. Sea @ Cape Reinga
Photos: 1) Planting my native species at Te Rerenga Wairu 2) Battleground of the Tasman Sea (left) and the Pacific Ocean (right) 3) The massive Te Paki Dunes down which I sandboarded - my new favourite sport! 4) The author dips her feet into the cold, wild Tasman Sea 5) A Maori headstone in the graveyard at Te Waimate Mission.
It's an early day here in Bay of Islands. I'm on a bus trip to Cape Reinga today, going to check out the (almost) northernmost part of the North Island. I figured it would be a fun thing to do since I've already been to the (almost) most southern point of the South Island in the same trip. There's a bit of tour bus confusion among the gazillions of us waiting out at the street in front of our hotels. I finally find myself on the correct bus although the driver warned me that I'd be travelling with the "older" crowd unless I wanted to wait for the next bus. Heck, I'm used to being a younger one already so why not again today? I bid Liz and Ross a great day of R&R in Russell and climb aboard. The sun is coming up beautifully behind some clouds out over the bay as we head north along the coast.
Passing through Kerikeri (say like "keh-ree-keh-ree), I admire the extensive groves of citrus trees and the massive walls of bamboo growing along the road. The first time I encountered such towering bamboo was in Trinidad and Tobago in 2001, then again in the Windward & Leeward Islands in 2006/2007, but I still find myself floored by how tall they grow and how pretty the stretch of greenery looks. This is the first time I've been in such bamboo groves when it hasn't been a gazillion degrees of dripping humidity.
We're in Puketi (say "puh-keh-tee") Forest now for a chance to stretch our legs and crane our necks while checking out massively towering kauri trees in this subtropical rainforest. The fourth largest living kauri, Te Tangi o te Puketi, with a height of 50.9m (167 feet) dwells here. This area of delicious greenery is 15,000 hectares (37,000 acres) of beauty, and along with the Omahuta Forest, it forms one of the largest contiguous tracts of native forest in Northland: http://www.puketi.org.nz/
After passing through gorgeous Coopers Beach (a little bias here) in Doubtless Bay, so named after Captain James Cook sailed past the entrance to the area in 1769 and recorded "doubtless a bay" in his journal, it's time for a BBQ lunch at Houhora Big Game & Sports Fishing Club, perched at the edge of the water in Houhora. No doubt my cousin Teddy would enjoy a day out with these guys - it's all about fishing here! According to their website, you haven't lived until you've fished Houhora. Regardless, the seafood-free lunch is delicious and I stuff myself accordingly. After 11 days of tramping in the bush, I haven't yet kicked the new habit of filling myself at each opportunity due to uncertainty of when the next meal will arrive. A few minutes to myself in the hot sun after lunch, then we're herded back onto the air-conditioned coach for more time to admire the gorgeous passing scenery.
At last we've arrived at Te Rerenga Wairua (Cape Reinga)! We don't have much time here so I take a quick side trip to plant a native tree as part of the restoration project taking place here. It's an ecologically sensitive area, home to many rare and endangered plants and animals, along with being one of New Zealand's most visited sites, drawing over 120,000 visitors a year. Te Rerenga Wairua is also very important to all Maori as the departure place for spirits on their final journey to the homeland of Hawaiiki (distinctly different from Hawaii, for the record). The Maori name, Te Rerenga Wairua, means leaping-off place of spirits. The cape is the point where spirits of the dead enter the underworld.
Another fascinating thing about Cape Reinga is that it is the point where the Tasman Sea to the west meets the Pacific Ocean to the east. You can see a distinct area of turbulence where the two waters collide which is pretty darn cool! If you look closely, you can spot whirlpools and swirls, not to mention differences in shades of blue. I hike out to the lighthouse which shone for the first time in May of 1941, and was automated in 1987. If I cross my eyes and squint hard, I think I can see Sydney! I wish I could see some shade....it's another sunny, sweltering day of summer here.
Time for a quick loo stop in the eco-toilets, then our bus is lumbering down a streambed (with water in it) to the MASSIVE Te Paki Dunes on our way to 90 Mile Beach. These dunes are ri-di-cu-lous-ly tall! As you can probably tell, I've never been to a "real" desert where dunes of this magnitude are probably commonplace. Even better, we're going sandboarding down the dunes!!! I've just hit the entertainment jackpot. After a quick demo and safety advisory by our bus driver, I find myself hiking up the side of the dune in slow-motion. It's slo-mo for two reasons: there are a lot of people in line ahead of me as there are numerous buses stopped to disgorge their tourists, and stepping uphill in the sand means that your foot slides back nearly to the point of departure so it's really more like 3 steps forward, 2 steps back which makes for a different kind of hiking. Finally, it's my turn and I'm so excited! I lie belly-down on my boogie board, upper body propped up by my arms which are bent at the elbow, hands pulling up on the front of the board to avoid jamming it into the sand by accident. No high-speed sandy face plants today. My legs trail behind me off the back of the board as my feet will be the brakes. Ha! Brakes are for wimps, I say! My guide gives me a good shove, I close my mouth while applauding myself for keeping my sunglasses on to protect my eyes, and whoosh!! I'm flying down a giant hill of sand, headed straight for Te Paki Stream below, and I'm having so much fun!! I trail my feet in the sand for about 2 seconds of braking, then abandon all attempts to slow myself and am eventually launched across the streambed for quite a distance, sending up a giant spray of warm water all around me, and having the time of my life. I finally slide to a giddy stop to applause from my fellow bus people, and discover that I'm not even wet, just kind of sandy. Oh, if only we could stay here for hours....!
Sitting behind the bus driver does have certain advantages as we plow down 90 Mile Beach. I get to pepper him with questions and learn things like the fact that 90 Mile Beach isn't actually 90 miles long. It got named way back when people travelled this area with horses, and it took 3 days to cover the length of the beach. With an estimated average 30 miles/day of travel x 3 days, it was assumed that the beach was 90 miles long. Technically, the beach is only 55 miles long (88 kilometres), but since Australia has an 80 Mile Beach and what Kiwi wants to be outdone by the Aussies?, the original name stuck. The travel of 90 Mile Beach by coach has to be timed carefully - they have that tidal thing here, and the tour buses can only drive the beach at low tide. We stop about halfway along to plunge our feet in the cold Tasman Sea and check out pretty shells, then all too soon we're back on the bus and having our afternoon tea stop at Ancient Kauri Kingdom, a most excellent place to do a little shopping too: http://www.ancientkauri.co.nz/
It's an early day here in Bay of Islands. I'm on a bus trip to Cape Reinga today, going to check out the (almost) northernmost part of the North Island. I figured it would be a fun thing to do since I've already been to the (almost) most southern point of the South Island in the same trip. There's a bit of tour bus confusion among the gazillions of us waiting out at the street in front of our hotels. I finally find myself on the correct bus although the driver warned me that I'd be travelling with the "older" crowd unless I wanted to wait for the next bus. Heck, I'm used to being a younger one already so why not again today? I bid Liz and Ross a great day of R&R in Russell and climb aboard. The sun is coming up beautifully behind some clouds out over the bay as we head north along the coast.
Passing through Kerikeri (say like "keh-ree-keh-ree), I admire the extensive groves of citrus trees and the massive walls of bamboo growing along the road. The first time I encountered such towering bamboo was in Trinidad and Tobago in 2001, then again in the Windward & Leeward Islands in 2006/2007, but I still find myself floored by how tall they grow and how pretty the stretch of greenery looks. This is the first time I've been in such bamboo groves when it hasn't been a gazillion degrees of dripping humidity.
We're in Puketi (say "puh-keh-tee") Forest now for a chance to stretch our legs and crane our necks while checking out massively towering kauri trees in this subtropical rainforest. The fourth largest living kauri, Te Tangi o te Puketi, with a height of 50.9m (167 feet) dwells here. This area of delicious greenery is 15,000 hectares (37,000 acres) of beauty, and along with the Omahuta Forest, it forms one of the largest contiguous tracts of native forest in Northland: http://www.puketi.org.nz/
After passing through gorgeous Coopers Beach (a little bias here) in Doubtless Bay, so named after Captain James Cook sailed past the entrance to the area in 1769 and recorded "doubtless a bay" in his journal, it's time for a BBQ lunch at Houhora Big Game & Sports Fishing Club, perched at the edge of the water in Houhora. No doubt my cousin Teddy would enjoy a day out with these guys - it's all about fishing here! According to their website, you haven't lived until you've fished Houhora. Regardless, the seafood-free lunch is delicious and I stuff myself accordingly. After 11 days of tramping in the bush, I haven't yet kicked the new habit of filling myself at each opportunity due to uncertainty of when the next meal will arrive. A few minutes to myself in the hot sun after lunch, then we're herded back onto the air-conditioned coach for more time to admire the gorgeous passing scenery.
At last we've arrived at Te Rerenga Wairua (Cape Reinga)! We don't have much time here so I take a quick side trip to plant a native tree as part of the restoration project taking place here. It's an ecologically sensitive area, home to many rare and endangered plants and animals, along with being one of New Zealand's most visited sites, drawing over 120,000 visitors a year. Te Rerenga Wairua is also very important to all Maori as the departure place for spirits on their final journey to the homeland of Hawaiiki (distinctly different from Hawaii, for the record). The Maori name, Te Rerenga Wairua, means leaping-off place of spirits. The cape is the point where spirits of the dead enter the underworld.
Another fascinating thing about Cape Reinga is that it is the point where the Tasman Sea to the west meets the Pacific Ocean to the east. You can see a distinct area of turbulence where the two waters collide which is pretty darn cool! If you look closely, you can spot whirlpools and swirls, not to mention differences in shades of blue. I hike out to the lighthouse which shone for the first time in May of 1941, and was automated in 1987. If I cross my eyes and squint hard, I think I can see Sydney! I wish I could see some shade....it's another sunny, sweltering day of summer here.
Time for a quick loo stop in the eco-toilets, then our bus is lumbering down a streambed (with water in it) to the MASSIVE Te Paki Dunes on our way to 90 Mile Beach. These dunes are ri-di-cu-lous-ly tall! As you can probably tell, I've never been to a "real" desert where dunes of this magnitude are probably commonplace. Even better, we're going sandboarding down the dunes!!! I've just hit the entertainment jackpot. After a quick demo and safety advisory by our bus driver, I find myself hiking up the side of the dune in slow-motion. It's slo-mo for two reasons: there are a lot of people in line ahead of me as there are numerous buses stopped to disgorge their tourists, and stepping uphill in the sand means that your foot slides back nearly to the point of departure so it's really more like 3 steps forward, 2 steps back which makes for a different kind of hiking. Finally, it's my turn and I'm so excited! I lie belly-down on my boogie board, upper body propped up by my arms which are bent at the elbow, hands pulling up on the front of the board to avoid jamming it into the sand by accident. No high-speed sandy face plants today. My legs trail behind me off the back of the board as my feet will be the brakes. Ha! Brakes are for wimps, I say! My guide gives me a good shove, I close my mouth while applauding myself for keeping my sunglasses on to protect my eyes, and whoosh!! I'm flying down a giant hill of sand, headed straight for Te Paki Stream below, and I'm having so much fun!! I trail my feet in the sand for about 2 seconds of braking, then abandon all attempts to slow myself and am eventually launched across the streambed for quite a distance, sending up a giant spray of warm water all around me, and having the time of my life. I finally slide to a giddy stop to applause from my fellow bus people, and discover that I'm not even wet, just kind of sandy. Oh, if only we could stay here for hours....!
Sitting behind the bus driver does have certain advantages as we plow down 90 Mile Beach. I get to pepper him with questions and learn things like the fact that 90 Mile Beach isn't actually 90 miles long. It got named way back when people travelled this area with horses, and it took 3 days to cover the length of the beach. With an estimated average 30 miles/day of travel x 3 days, it was assumed that the beach was 90 miles long. Technically, the beach is only 55 miles long (88 kilometres), but since Australia has an 80 Mile Beach and what Kiwi wants to be outdone by the Aussies?, the original name stuck. The travel of 90 Mile Beach by coach has to be timed carefully - they have that tidal thing here, and the tour buses can only drive the beach at low tide. We stop about halfway along to plunge our feet in the cold Tasman Sea and check out pretty shells, then all too soon we're back on the bus and having our afternoon tea stop at Ancient Kauri Kingdom, a most excellent place to do a little shopping too: http://www.ancientkauri.co.nz/
Reuniting with Ross and Liz back in Bay of Islands, we swap stories about our fun days as we head across Northland to our eventual overnight destination on the west coast. On the way there, we stop to stretch our legs and check out Haruru Falls where I spot some gulls having a bath in a pool above the waterfalls. We also wander around the grounds of Waitangi House, a rich spot for local history as this is the location where the Treaty of Waitangi was signed. Another stop for history buffs is at Te Waimate Mission House, the second oldest building in New Zealand. We don't technically go in the house, but I enjoy wandering around the graveyard with Liz, checking out some beautiful graves and interesting markers. To some it sounds morbid to say I like graveyards, but I wander them around the world in order to appreciate how unique each one is, and to learn about local customs. I found some really pretty graveyards by accident once in Verona, Italy, when I was looking for Juliet's tomb. They're usually fairly quiet too, making them a nice spot for a picnic on a road trip as my mom can attest to from her childhood.
A stop for some pizza and views of a gorgeous sunset while watching children play hide-and-seek in a yard with virtually nowhere to hide, then we're finally at the Post Master's Lodgings in Rawene. Their logo has an uber creepy-looking fellow on it, but I'll forgive them because this fabulous kauri house is made entirely of kauri wood and is about 150 years old. We have a great room for ourselves with an ensuite bathroom, and I'm the perfect height for my little bed tucked in one corner. Sometimes, being the short one in the family pays off....
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Kiwi Quest 2010 - I heart NZ ice cream!
Hooray! Uncle Ross has been pronounced fit enough for travel.
Photos: 1) A Maori carving to greet your entry to Ruapekapeka Pa 2) A view of the remaining ditch and bank defenses 3) Exterior view of the most famous toilets in New Zealand 4)The gate to the ladies loo 5) Sunset in Paihia (Bay of Islands)
Well, although I suspect he doesn't feel fit enough for travel, the doctor has give carte blanche for Liz and I to drag my poor uncle to the Northland part of the North Island for the weekend. Hopefully, the beautiful scenery will help him mend quickly!
Our first, and arguably our most important, stop of the day is in Waipu (say "why-poo") for ice cream. This isn't just any ice cream; this is very critical and very delicious ice cream! It's another hot day of summer here so ice cream plays a terribly important role in helping our bodies stay cool in the sun while we drive. Liberal application of sun cream on my Northern Hemisphere pale body is also on the list, but ice cream is first. This time, I opt for two scoops: coconut marshmallow (a rather alarmingly unnatural shade of pink) and cookies n' cream. I did have my eye on my favourite down here (Goody Goody Gum Drops), but I'm trying to keep expanding my culinary horizons away from home. Besides, I can't go back to Canada and sing the praises of delicious NZ ice cream if I've only ever tried one flavour.
Liz and I slowly amble down the main street in Waipu, carefully ingesting our medicinal ice cream and passing a prostrate Ross in the car. Poor guy. We find a little park and sink down onto some great benches in the shade of a big tree. Boy, it's hot here! I may not be the world's slowest eater (I have a friend who could compete for that record), but I am a pretty slow consumer of cold treats and Cadbury cream eggs, so eventually we start back to the car while I try to keep up with the pink trail of ice cream heading down my arm.
Our next stop a little further north is in Whangarei (say "fen-gah-ray") where it's time for a spot of tea at a little roadside coffee shop. We haven't had much for lunch yet (ice cream doesn't count because it was for medicinal purposes) so Ross and I share a piece of pear & blue cheese quiche. Oh dear. This is really going to test my taste bud limits! You see, my dad is quite fond of cheeses that smell like dead animals or hockey equipment that hasn't been washed in months, but I'm quite picky about cheese and tend to stick with bland ones that I know well like mozzarella, marble, and cheddar. I've already tried edam and goat cheeses on this trip, so I feel that I should try this gnarly-looking blue cheese. I put 3 rice-sized pieces on my fork, stab a giant piece of pear, and chew frantically. Maybe if I swallow fast enough I won't notice the cheese flavour? Nope, my mouth tastes mouldy..... {gag}. Well, at least my dad will probably be proud of me for trying.
Our next stop in this beautiful country is near Kawakawa to see the Ruapekapeka Pa, a Maori warrior stockade left over from their battle against the British in January, 1846. You can still make out the ditch and bank defenses, and luckily they've put a fence around the well because it sure looks like a long way down. The great thing about this Pa besides the interesting history is the view! It only makes sense that a defensive position should have long sight lines, and now the visitors get to drink in the beauty of the surrounding forests. There are lots of signs around to inform and teach all that you want to know about Ruapekapeka Pa, or you can also look here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruapekapeka
Since Mother Nature is a part of daily life, we now find ourselves in Kawakawa, home to the most famous toilets in the whole country: the ones designed by the Austrian artist Friedensreich Hundertwasser who lived in the area from 1975 until his death in 2000. I first encountered his fabulous bright and cheery style when I was in Austria and Germany in 1992. Being a lover of colour myself, I was drawn to his plentiful use of it, along with the simple lines and recycling of materials long before the three "R"s became so popular. I was a bit sad when I discovered he would no longer be creating such fun and entertaining art pieces, but I did have fun exploring the toilets in Kawakawa, made even more special after I learned that they were his last project, and the only one in the Southern Hemisphere. You can learn more about the artist and his work here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hundertwasser
Photos: 1) A Maori carving to greet your entry to Ruapekapeka Pa 2) A view of the remaining ditch and bank defenses 3) Exterior view of the most famous toilets in New Zealand 4)The gate to the ladies loo 5) Sunset in Paihia (Bay of Islands)
Well, although I suspect he doesn't feel fit enough for travel, the doctor has give carte blanche for Liz and I to drag my poor uncle to the Northland part of the North Island for the weekend. Hopefully, the beautiful scenery will help him mend quickly!
Our first, and arguably our most important, stop of the day is in Waipu (say "why-poo") for ice cream. This isn't just any ice cream; this is very critical and very delicious ice cream! It's another hot day of summer here so ice cream plays a terribly important role in helping our bodies stay cool in the sun while we drive. Liberal application of sun cream on my Northern Hemisphere pale body is also on the list, but ice cream is first. This time, I opt for two scoops: coconut marshmallow (a rather alarmingly unnatural shade of pink) and cookies n' cream. I did have my eye on my favourite down here (Goody Goody Gum Drops), but I'm trying to keep expanding my culinary horizons away from home. Besides, I can't go back to Canada and sing the praises of delicious NZ ice cream if I've only ever tried one flavour.
Liz and I slowly amble down the main street in Waipu, carefully ingesting our medicinal ice cream and passing a prostrate Ross in the car. Poor guy. We find a little park and sink down onto some great benches in the shade of a big tree. Boy, it's hot here! I may not be the world's slowest eater (I have a friend who could compete for that record), but I am a pretty slow consumer of cold treats and Cadbury cream eggs, so eventually we start back to the car while I try to keep up with the pink trail of ice cream heading down my arm.
Our next stop a little further north is in Whangarei (say "fen-gah-ray") where it's time for a spot of tea at a little roadside coffee shop. We haven't had much for lunch yet (ice cream doesn't count because it was for medicinal purposes) so Ross and I share a piece of pear & blue cheese quiche. Oh dear. This is really going to test my taste bud limits! You see, my dad is quite fond of cheeses that smell like dead animals or hockey equipment that hasn't been washed in months, but I'm quite picky about cheese and tend to stick with bland ones that I know well like mozzarella, marble, and cheddar. I've already tried edam and goat cheeses on this trip, so I feel that I should try this gnarly-looking blue cheese. I put 3 rice-sized pieces on my fork, stab a giant piece of pear, and chew frantically. Maybe if I swallow fast enough I won't notice the cheese flavour? Nope, my mouth tastes mouldy..... {gag}
Our next stop in this beautiful country is near Kawakawa to see the Ruapekapeka Pa, a Maori warrior stockade left over from their battle against the British in January, 1846. You can still make out the ditch and bank defenses, and luckily they've put a fence around the well because it sure looks like a long way down. The great thing about this Pa besides the interesting history is the view! It only makes sense that a defensive position should have long sight lines, and now the visitors get to drink in the beauty of the surrounding forests. There are lots of signs around to inform and teach all that you want to know about Ruapekapeka Pa, or you can also look here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruapekapeka
Since Mother Nature is a part of daily life, we now find ourselves in Kawakawa, home to the most famous toilets in the whole country: the ones designed by the Austrian artist Friedensreich Hundertwasser who lived in the area from 1975 until his death in 2000. I first encountered his fabulous bright and cheery style when I was in Austria and Germany in 1992. Being a lover of colour myself, I was drawn to his plentiful use of it, along with the simple lines and recycling of materials long before the three "R"s became so popular. I was a bit sad when I discovered he would no longer be creating such fun and entertaining art pieces, but I did have fun exploring the toilets in Kawakawa, made even more special after I learned that they were his last project, and the only one in the Southern Hemisphere. You can learn more about the artist and his work here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hundertwasser
What ho! At last we are in Paihia in Bay of Islands, a beautiful place to rest our heads for the night. Although they have a Swiss Chalet Lodge, we've chosen other arrangements, and once we get Ross settled for the night, Liz and I strike out to find some dinner and take in the lovely surroundings. After noshing on some delicious cream of leek with bacon soup, salad, hot chocolate, and key lime pie (I should eat dessert more often if it's always this good), we took ourselves on a tour of this tourist town, including a stop down at the ferry terminal for photos of the sun setting, as well as up into the hills to check out the fancy houses and fantastic views. Tomorrow, I'm on a solo bus trip for the day to Cape Reinga while Ross & Liz take a break across the water in Russell, but in the meantime, here's a piece of New Zealand historical knowledge for you to mull over: Te Tiritiri o Waitangi (The Treaty of Waitangi) was signed here in the Bay of Islands on February 6, 1840.
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