New Zealand (IV)

Richard W. Frank

New Zealand (IV)

As the sun reflected the pink skin of the tourists strolling down the boardwalk of Russell, a peaceful Bay of Islands hamlet snuggled in Northland, New Zealand, I leaned back in my white plastic lawn chair under the navy Bollinger umbrella, ran my fingers on the mist collecting on my cold drink, and thought: ""A life of dissipation and ease may eventually become tiring and indeed tedious, but I have thankfully not reached that point yet."" The holiday season has been a bustling one for me and my trusty ATM card. I know your collective time is as short as my dwindling supply of NZ dollars, so I shall make this missive as quick a read as possible.

Wrenching myself free of the pleasant lethargy of Christchurch, I resolutely made my way up the East Coast of the South Island through Kaikora and Picton and back to the warm embrace of Nelson for the weeks surrounding Christmas. I would have preferred to spend Christmas somewhere in the mountains with the possums and a good book, but this was not to be. Penny and Julie, old Cobdens buddies were horrified at the idea and forced the most traditional of Christmas' upon me. To my surprise, I had a brilliant time. On Christmas day I found myself in the most New Zealand of farming communities, Riwaka, at Penny's place. We went over to her family's house safely snuggled in the morning sun amidst kiwifruit and hops fields. We visited the local graveyard to clean and lay flowers on the graves of previous Hamiltons, sat around on the veranda in the shade at entertained family and neighbors before indulging in a chilled Christmas feast. When we were able to work our way to a standing position again, the family went for a walk around the 'hood to walk off the roast beast and enjoy the sea air and balmy weather. The one thing I missed was watching the traditional American football games.

After more several days of well deserved and appreciated sloth meeting the eclectic characters that make up Motueka and a vacation from my vacation, I boarded a small plane over to New Zealand's capital city of Wellington and my first exposure to the North Island. South Islanders had prepared me for a veritable Gommorrah of traffic and civilization and unfriendliness in terms that people from Northern California often use to describe SoCal. Needless to say, it was not that bad. We made our way north to the lake town of Taupo for New Year's Eve. It appeared that the rest of the North Island had the same idea. There was no room at the inn for us humble travelers, so we were regaled at the local Maori college with comfortable mattresses on the floor of the gym. Fortunately, we were not to need these much that night. Had a stellar time enjoying the nightlife with the throngs, and we issued out the old and welcomed in the new with appropriate enthusiasm.

With a sense of purpose and direction, I made my way up to the northernmost part of the country to soak up the sun and watch two oceans collide at Cape Rienga. A week slipped quickly by in Paihia (Fort Lauderdale in the South Pacific) with the rest of the summer vacationers. Tried to do the "Blue Lagoon" thing and swim with dolphins, sand surfed some impressive dunes, roasted myself slowly turning occasionally in the harsh southern sun on decent beaches, drove the length of Ninety Mile Beach, and did some scuba diving down to the Rainbow Warrior. The Greenpeace flagship was blown up by French saboteurs in Auckland Harbor in 1985 and later towed up to the Bay of Islands and turned into an artificial reef and diving staple. A definite must if in the area. Coming up to the bow in 27 meters od water reminded me of the first scenes of "Titanic." Impressive!!

I reluctantly extricated myself from the opiate arms of the Bay of Islands and made my way back to Auckland in time to see the fourth leg of the Whitbread race come to a dramatic close. The Whitbread started in the early seventies and is run every four years. It is the longest sailing competition in the world covering over 30,000 nautical miles in seven stages taking over six months. The Viaduct Quay was transformed into a crowded throng of locals and other spectators taking a long lunch break to watch some of the world's best sailors arrive. There was widespread celebration when a hometown Auckland boy and his Kiwi team on Merit Cup barely beat out Dennis Connor and his American Toshiba team. When all the boats had arrived for their well-deserved layover in Auckland, they were docked in order of arrival. The boats were all yar, and it gave us all a vicarious feeling of adventure to see the sleepless crews arrive and embrace their families and stager to the stage.

Now I find myself eagerly awaiting my flight to Sydney tomorrow as I look back with inevitable nostalgia on the last three months I have spent in New Zealand and try to give it a sense of cohesion and meaning. As I make a mental photo album of my Kiwi experience, every picture shines in its brilliance and brings back a flood of excitement and feeling. These months are a precious gift to put on my mental mantelpiece, and take down every so often when a visitor remarks on it, dust it off, and remember a fraction of the immediacy and grandiose beauty of Aotearoa, ""land of the long white cloud.""

Enough rambling for the moment. The myriad practicalities of daily life dictate that I must be gone. So much to do before tomorrow morning's flight to a new world. It is a flight to the unknown in every sense, and I look forward to it with excitement tinged with the slightest apprehension.

I will be in country for awhile and can receive poste restante mail at the following locations in the following order if the mood strikes you:

Rich Frank

Poste Restante, GPO

Sydney [then Perth, then Cairns]

Australia

Until next, thanks for all the support and giving me an excuse to visit every internet cafe I come across to get updates of life from the various other corners of the globe. It means a lot to us itinerant travelers to get mail in our inbox. Cheers!!!

Gazpacho for the Soul,

Rich

"If you don't know where you are going, any road will take you there"

Onwards to Australia

Back to World Trip #1

Back to New Zealand (III)

Back to World Trip #1

View along the Heaphy Track