We're in New Zealand

Monday morning we arrived back in New Zealand - although an uneventful (we were on time on both legs) it was a very long trip. We arrived at Heathrow on Saturday afternoon quite early (after scraping ice off the car window for what we hope is the last time) and read the newspaper in the lounge (found out that fellow kiwis had bought 6000 copies of a cd for their dogs - apparently the enjoyment is from watching your dog wagging its tail and getting excited while you sit in silence - is this really the country we call home?). We stood for an hour or so in transit in the US then were told to 'come on down to the gate if we want to board the plane' in a very broad American accent (it sounded like an invitation to a barn dance). There's no place like home - does that sound familiar? As I walked the streets of Wellington I felt like skipping along just like Dorothy did on the yellow brick road. So what is so good about Wellington. Well...
The weather - we can't always say that - but this summer has been described by most people I talk to as the best in a very long time. If the brown hills are anything to go by then it has been warm for quite a few weeks and we certainly enjoyed the high 20's as we explored old haunts and sat outside chatting and drinking coffee or eating dinners. The natural beauty...

...'There's something about the harbour' - I wandered around the harbour enjoying the different moods of the sea, watching people relaxing in the sea, on the beach, in canoes or just cruising the wharves on foot or roller blades. Waitangi Park is a different place than 9 months before with the flaxes, plants and trees all beginning to be established. There's something for everyone - a place to picnic, buy coffee, swim in the sea, skateboard. There's also all those interesting poems to read and some more information on the history of boats and people than before.
...and 'there's something about the hills' -we parked the car in our usual car park up the Wadestown Hill more than once and wandered down through Wadestown into town with the cicadas in full tune. We wandered up Mount Kaukau (fairly effortlessly compared to pre-cycle days) and enjoyed the view with the ships coming in, the planes flying over, the trains and cars moving below us. And enjoyed wandering over the fields in Eketehuna.

'There's something about this city of ours' ...I think it is all the special people we know - our family and our friends. We so enjoyed meeting up with our family and friends, going to our clubs and for long walks. On reflection, we had a holiday doing all the things we would have done 1 year ago as a normal part of our lives. It has reinforced what we already knew, it takes a long time to make precious relationships and in a new country we can't expect it to happen quickly. Sharon's party was great - Macs Brewery is a good venue, with fairy lights on the ceiling and we decorated the room with lots of photos of Sharon, a slide show and lots of balloons. It was a special time meeting our friends again - those that had supported us as a family and it reminded me of all the holidays and fun times we had with friends over the last 21 years. Harry ended up night clubbing at Boogie Wonderland after the party. I took Mike and his friend home and Harry went to collect Aaron's car from Reading Carpark. It closed at 2.00 so he went night clubbing with the others until he could get hold of me to come and collect him (all I could say is next time take enough money for a taxi - but actually I was quite envious cos I can't remember the last time I went clubbing).

And we knew where to go - we didn't need a map!! It is so liberating to drive knowing instinctively that to get to Karori, or Paekakariki, or Eketehuna you turn this corner and go around this roundabout and to walk around the shops knowing that Farmers is here, Kirks is there and the supermarket is where you last left it!! We can meet up with friends outside Chicago, or parliament and we don't need detailed explanations of how to find the venue. We enjoyed the kiwi food - what did we miss in England - barbeques, sausages and crisp fish and chips - we haven't overdosed really (just a few slices of bread with sausages and onions coated in tomato sauce and mustard when we passed the fund raisers by the supermarkets) and a couple of lots of fish and chips (plus potato fritters, spring and curry rolls and pineapple fritters) on the beach. Oh and Harry missed the Marmite (we bought some back - we almost had to pay excess baggage!!). We think we will buy a barbeque when we return and introduce the kiwi bbq to those in England. But there are a few things the same as in England

• jet lag - it doesn't matter where we are it seems to make us tired - sleep longer and later and a few days where the energy levels are a bit lower


• the dentist - they're painful in any country but more expensive in England (but it is good having free GP visits)


• the news - all papers seem to have the same amount of crime, politics, economics, good, sad and bad news - though Harry enjoyed the Dominion Post crossword once again and sudokos seem to be more difficult in NZ


• enjoying taking photos - we didn't have many of Wellington but now have heaps. I've tried to take lots from different perspectives so that we remember more views than just those of Oriental Bay. One thing I regret is that I wanted one photo of all my friends with Sharon and Michael from the party - but on the night forgot to organise it (too busy talking I suspect).


• the wind - yes Bristol has had some but probably not as frequently as our Windy Wellington.

Thanks to all of you special people who made our holiday one to remember and also make Wellington our home. It's a pity that we missed seeing some of you.

Leeds and the Peak District

We watched a tv programme the other night and someone answered the question 'What is a Blog?' The reply was 'Somewhere where losers can tell the world what they do and what they think' Huh I thought!! People at work have been telling me all about the study of New Zealand language - apparently there was an article on the BBC about how it is a 'relatively new language' and that it is predominantly a mixture of Scottish and Manchesterian(?) not altogether surprising because both Harry and my grandparents came from around Manchester and probably sailed from Liverpool. Examples of how NZ language is unique are words like 'gawker', kia ora, we 'fill in' rather than 'fill out', we use petrol rather than gas, we eat chippies rather than crisps. Apparently NZ children can not hear the difference between ear and air, fair and fear. So, there we are, very different and special. I know that when people at work hear I am going home for a holiday they are envious. The other big news is that February had the warmest day in England since records began 18 degrees.
Early Saturday morning we headed for Leeds. I wasn't holding out much for this trip as when I asked what there is to see in Leeds I got 'the shopping is great'. We scraped the ice off the windscreen and packed with a picnic we drove for about 3 and a half hours passed a nuclear power station - 8 huge cooling towers spewing out steam - and then a smaller one some distance away. We spent another hour and a half trying to find Lydia Street - where Harry's grandmother Leah - was born and lived we think for many of her childhood and her teenage years. Armed with the AA travel journey directions and a smallish map of inner Leeds we drove round the ring road and roundabouts many times before stopping to ask for directions. I think he had trouble with my kiwi accent but I equally had trouble when he told me 'we're right here pointing to 'Orrie ill' on the map -thankfully I was wearing my glasses and concluded he meant 'Quarry Hill'. To excuse us a little bit for getting so lost we did see four streets named Woodview Place, Woodview Street, Woodview Road and Woodview Mount so when there are abbreviations to WDV on the map and intersections described as M6 J4/M42 J8/M42 J7-J7A on our AA travel directions can you blame us?
Eventually, we decided to take to our feet - we could avoid the confusion of the one way streets and no-named streets and parked beside the Leeds market - one of the biggest we have seen - there were 10 butcher shops in a row - lots of veges, delis, clothes and shoe shops. Lydia Street is a little street in what looked like once would have been the Jewish Quarter - street names like Lydia, Templar and Tempest sort of give it away. The building Leah had been born in was long gone - replaced by a modern pink brick warehouse, but Harry could imagine her wandering these streets, passing the older buildings we did see, and visiting and meeting friends in the arcades (built in 1900 when Leah was 1). In searching the internet to see if any of the buildings were once used for textiles (Harry's family vocation) I discovered that the whole area would soon be demolished or restored with a 'comprehensive redevelopment of the 10 hectares site - The restoration of Templar House, Templar Hotel, the Eastgate Fountain and 7-27 Eastgate (the north side)'. The Lyons Works (the ‘China Town building’) - just opposite 2 Lydia Street would be demolished along with what sounds like blocks of buildings including a chapel. I must admit the area did look a bit run down - but can't imagine the replacement which will apparently include shops, offices, cinema, gym, medical centre, restaurant and apartments. It looks as though we would have seen very little of any of the buildings Leah had walked passed if we had waited much longer.

On one of our many trips circling Leeds we had seen a sign for the Royal Armoury which we kept for no reason at all calling the Royal Infirmary all day. We stopped - another example of a museum created to meet the needs of the whole family - while Harry saw the many displays of guns, swords, armour etc I went in search of the tapestry's and the live displays of sword fighting and war. I was told that the 'V' on the front of the armour is not only decorative but was designed for enemy swords to slip up across the shoulder rather than up to the throat - quite a good idea I thought - and similarly the butterly wings on the knees was to stop swords entering the back of the legs (which had to be kept bare so that the rider could communicate with their horse or elephant depending on what country you were in.) We listened to a soliloquy of a Lancashire fighter who saw his fellow troopers killed and the anguish he felt in escaping and seeing his friends die by the hand of the Yorkies. There were also questions spotted around the museum like 'What 3 things do you think the world needs to be continually at peace?' The answers were neutrality ie no borders, equality for all, democracy, health and welfare for all, economy and industry, and education - you could pick 3 out of the 6. It was an intriguing question and we contemplated that even if we had all 6 we were not sure war would stop unless the cause of aggression can be totally put down to a lack of power and wealth. The Hall of Steel was a four storey high tower with armour, weapons, pistols, muskets, cannons, swords, rifles, axes and bayonets all restored, brought from the Tower of London. No replicas.

We left Leeds and drove south to try and find a bed and breakfast for the night. Tourists can't want to come to Leeds and the surrounds because there was none to be found and we ended up in Huddersfield for the night at a hotel built in the 1880's and renovated in the 60's with pink tiles in the bathroom and oldish style furniture. We had dinner in the restaurant (rather large - and empty so when I said 'do you have a table for two' the young french waiter (studying hotel management at the local university) said 'of course' politely and we tried not to laugh). The hotel served a range of meals including 'buffalo ricotta', 'east-west chips' and 'truffle mash' we weren't sure where the cook came from but he must have had some international experience we think. We had been told that Huddersfield was quite a nice little town (actually the receptionist said it was the largest town in England) so in the morning before breakfast we wandered round with all the university students coming home from their Saturday night clubbing (the difference was they were hoping for Burger King or McD's to open while we had a breakfast waiting for us back at the hotel and we were dressed warmly rather than in teeshirts, skimpy dresses and light trousers). The Sunday markets were just beginning to open and we bought olives, cheese, bread and turkish delight for our lunch. We decided that all Huddersfield had was a claim to fame of being next to the two towns where 'Last of the Summer Wine' was filmed. So, we went to those two towns Holmfirth and Slaithwaite and then to Hebden Bridge where we passed lots of little cafes (The Wrinkled Stocking), pubs (Shoulder of Mutton) and bed and breakfasts (where were they last night?) and Marsden where we wandered along the longest, highest and deepest canal tunnel 'Standedge' in England (no measurements anywhere so who can argue!) The boat trip through the tunnel was closed for winter but we might not have got the beautiful reflections if we had gone during summer as their would have been lots of boats rather than just the lots of English out for their Sunday stroll and a few ducks. Heaps of stone walls scatterred the hills (we were in the middle of the Pennines) and so I couldn't resist putting lots of photos on our blog of the spectacular sights.

I had been told that this area is one of the most densely populated areas in England - and certainly we got that impression. My word for describing Leeds and its surrounds would be 'populated' we drove for miles through what on the map looked like little towns but in reality were all joined together by rows and rows of terraced houses, industry and retail parks. I guess it was a throw back from the heavy industry days, and being in the middle of the country (the blue sky was criss crossed both days with jet streams going in all directions). We were so tired of brown stone and were pleased to finally get to the Peak District. The road was called Snake Pass and was officially closed but like so many others we ignored the signs, went round the barriers and headed for the hills. We think that 'road closed' actually means 'the little bit around the barriers not the whole road like when our roads are closed for slippages or snow. Anyway, we were glad that we ignored the signs!! The Peak district is lovely, lonely and so like the Desert Road in parts (no mountains though) and lovely colours to wander around as the sun set. In the distance we spied lots of white lumps and hazarded a guess that they could be beehives, monolithic stones or sheep but they turned out to be big white bags full of stuff that a helicopter was either taking away or putting there for distribution (we know this from a sign that said it would be operating sometimes but thankfully wasn't when we were there). A lovely way to end the weekend - we might have to go back to do a bit more exploring one day.

Tettenhall

Our working week was a bit quieter - I was on a course for two days definitely the new girl on the block with 2 of the attendees having worked there for over 8 years and the other 7 over 20 years - but weekends are always more exciting...
We decided to have a quiet weekend in England (my lack of sleep-ins was beginning to take its toll). I remembered a couple of weeks ago that my grandmothers birthday was on 6th Feb and then realised that it was 125 years since she was born and 120 since her parents decided to take her and their other 6 children to New Zealand. (Also in England 50 years ago on the 6th the Manchester United Football team were killed in an aircrash - so a bit history piece in the paper this week). Since without my grandmother I wouldn't be able to work in England she has become quite a special person to me - someone I admire - she did bring up 2 little girls alone in the 20's and 30's and owned her own home in Masterton - quite an admirable feat back then let alone now. She was born in Tettenhall so armed with maps, AA directions, and some history of the area we took off early on Saturday morning.
A little bit about Tettenhall... when Grandmother was born it was part of Staffordshire but sometime since then it has now become part of Wolverhampton city. 150 years ago it was described as a 'large and fertile parish' comprising some 8000 acres of land. It comprised 'many respectable houses on and near the Shiffnal road, at the foot and on the declivities (had to look that one up in the dictionary!!)of a lofty and picturesque eminence, which rises above the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal. The houses were then 'chiefly occupied by gentry, and by persons engaged in the trade and commerce of Wolverhampton'.
It hadn't snowed in Bristol, but it was a pretty heavy frost and as we got closer to Birmingham the snow was sprinkled along the roads and in Tettenhall we got some nice photos, even though it was a bit cold standing having our morning cup of tea and bacon butties (I was shaking so much the tea kept spilling). My great Grandad was apparently a mining engineer - not surprising the family had something to do with mining as it is the black country (coal, limestone, iron ore) and the common saying is 'black by day and red by night' to signify the constant smoke and fires that polluted the sky. Clifton Road wasn't very populated by walkers at 10 o'clock on a snowy morning but I did manage to find one resident who told me a bit of history but nothing to do with my family. She said many of the houses had been demolished or properties subdivided with new houses in front. There was no 96 Clifton Road infact it only went up to about 50ish, but given that besides London it was the most heavily bombed area in England during the war, I guess there could have been a few houses hit and once rebuilding started the roads may have been altered. Anyway, we wandered around the road, took a few photos of houses (some of them made into residential care homes) and then walked to the cemetery with St Michael's church on the side of the hill. Still used, but most of the older grave stones were unreadable and broken, so we found no family names. I'll have to do some research because the family may have moved away at a similar time my greats came to NZ. We wandered around the village which had quite a character. Tettenhall has 2 greens (an upper and lower green) and proudly tell us on the internet that this is quite rare in small towns (or now suburbs of larger city's) and a clock tower (built in 1912 to commemorate the coronation of George V) which had inscribed on the sides ' I labour here with all my might to tell the hours all day and night to tell you', 'for every hour that passes there is a record' and the other two sides had things about peace and joy which we can't remember.

That was Tettenhall. If we did wonder why our greats came over to NZ the Black Country Museum (laid out like a mining town with shops, fish and chips, pubs) showed us the life that even the fairly 'well to do' had and it wouldn't have taken much to get people to think the open air and farm land of NZ was a temptation not to be missed. We had the rare opportunity to go down a coal mine (not down the lift which had no sides and the men had to hold on to the chains), but walked underground and heard about there life underground. 'Pitch black' - not sure if I have ever experienced it before -we couldn't see a thing - no movement either - and I must admit I clung onto Harry during our walk through the tunnels. Quite an eerie experience. I didn't realise that the miners were required to dig the coal from under the wall, by about 18 feet, with only bits of wood to prop up the roof and then crawl out knocking out the wood to capsize the roof. They called the miners role 'the biggest human exterminator in England besides the wars'. You could only imagine the dust, noise, frightened life these men must have had. We were told of how the houses built over the mines subsided - and people crawled through bedroom windows to get into the house (presumably on the so called 2nd floor), of the os's (after a while we realised they meant horses ie the pit ponies), how you could mine anywhere with the permission of the landowner (and obviously some cash). We learnt that iron is made from a mixture of iron ore, limestone and coke all mined locally - and went into a cast iron house (cold in winter?). In the 1920's the area had such a problem with slum housing that they experimented on different types of housing - there was wood, brick and cast iron (the latter cost twice as much to build and so wasn't really a goer but a few made it onto the market). Overcrowding was a problem, with the Victorian houses becoming quite delapidated and built close together so there was little light and open air the slums continued to grow as houses shared the water supply and the toilets. It was described in one notice as '... appalling housing conditions, squalor and disease'. The museum was built in an old swimming pool built in the 1920's where men and women could bathe separately, and where the water was changed once a week and it cost more to swim when the water was fresh and was the cheapest at the end of the week! Besides mining Wolverhampton did have some known celebrities including some car and motorbike works (Sunbeam) and builders, actors etc.

We then had a drive through Birmingham (not a lot to see as we didn't stop and explore as it was getting dark) and went to visit a historic home (closed for winter - can't believe it).

Sunday after my sleep in we went to Bath - lots to explore there and it is quite quaint with a lovely botancial garden (the bulbs are just beginning to sprout). We wandered around the Royal Circle (some of the first town houses to be built) in a semi circle, went to the museum in one of the town houses (closed for winter) and visited the Jane Austin museum (what a surprise - it was open!). She had an interesting life, spent about 5 years in Bath in her late twenties, the family living beyond their means and moving progressively down to live in the lower part of town when her friends dismissed her. They then moved back to the country (mother and the 2 unmarried sisters) when a brother (adopted at 12 by a rich family that had no children to inherit their wealth) bought them a house to live in rent free. Although she enjoyed visiting Bath, living there was a different story with no money, requiring a chaperone (she was used to roaming the countryside freely) and she wrote no books while living there. On her return to the country she wrote I think 5 out of the 6 before dying an early death due to they think a rare hormone disease similar to Hodgkins.