Art Deco Weekend in Napier

I had never thought of writing a script for John Cleese or Mr Bean but this week has the potential of making a fairly good comedy show.  It all started on Thursday when Harry rang me in rather a tizz.  It took a while but I worked out that he had double booked himself - contract work on Thursday when I needed the car, but slightly worse - work the next day when he was meant to be travelling with us to Napier for our long awaited art deco weekend.  Some rearrangements which included me catching a bus to bridge and having take aways (what a hardship) and then Harry picking me up later was fine for Thursday but Friday took a bit more thought.  At midnight on Thursday, we booked a flight, made a quiche for our dinner the next night, decided to catch an early bus into work so that Harry could taxi to the airport after work - all arranged - and he'd be just 30 or so minutes late for our first show.  What could go wrong? (a favourite saying of our Bristolian dance teacher). The story turns to Graham where on Friday morning after shopping, and on Jills orders he made a frittata - the only thing Jill had to do was get the tin from the cupboard.  She chose a cake tin (drop out bottom one you know the type) which was not quite the required thing for a frittata- pour the egg in at the top and let it ooze out the bottom faster than Graham could catch it.  Then this famous chef (the frittata was pretty good) proceeded to our place to pick up all our stuff minus Harry (who would have been there if he wasn't at work!!).  On my email instructions he opened the door and punched in the alarm code - a frantic call came soon after - he couldn't turn the alarm off - and after a few more tries I caught a taxi home wondering if the electrician would come out urgently so we could be on our way.  In the back of the taxi and just before the bottom of the Gorge I realised 'oops' I had given Graham the wrong number.  How could that happen?  By the time I got home the house was no longer rocking to the sound of the shrill alarm, the bags were in the car and Graham had waved to the neighbours in a way that gave the impression he was friend rather than foe.  The taxi driver (a woman I am ashamed to say) had seen that I was slightly distracted and gave me a couple of 5 cent pieces for change (I discovered later) and we all know that isn't legal tender any more don't we!!   Finally we were on our way.  But the madness doesn't quite end there - we found the motel with no trouble - ate the frittata - dressed up - and off we went to see the Mousetrap (Agatha Christie famous show - that has run in London since 1952, over 25,000 performances with a few more around the rest of the world).  The tickets said 7.30 and so we arrived about 30 minutes early (a bit worried about car parking and finding the location) and we weren't the only ones.  By around 7.15 the audience were gathered outside the little theatre, the place was still shut up, and we all began to wonder if we were at the right place.  Along came some of the cast and supporters and herein followed a conversation: 'You're all early', 'Not really', 'It doesn't start till 8.00', 'but the ticket says 7.30' and so on... Anyway it was a lovely evening and we didn't mind standing in the sun, admiring everyones outfits and knowing that Harry wouldn't miss too much after all (though the late start of the show was compensated for by a late flight).  Soon we were let in to tables, free wine, juice and nibbles.  Half time saw us eating carrot cake and have a 'cuppa'.  The show was pretty good as well!!

The next day was 'train ride' day.  Train whistle blowing and all that stuff. The platform was full of people dressed in their 1930's clothes (op shop and all that) but I did hear one elderly woman say to another about someone's dress - 'if you haven't got it right you have got it so terribly wrong' - but no one else cared we were all having a great time.  We hopped on the train expecting a 'free for all' for seats as we didn't have seat numbers.  We soon found out everyone else had Carriage A, B, C etc and seat number 19a, 19b etc clearly written on their ticket - expect us and a few others. The conductor (well guy dressed up in conductor uniform) told us just to wander up and down the carriages, find a vacant seat and sit, and if someone came along with a numbered ticket, get up and find another.  We did this a few times - assured that there were enough seats for everyone - until we heard the announcement 'Are there any seats free in any carriages - looks as though we don't have enough for everyone'.  But there was enough for us - and the bonus was we wandered the carriages looking at peoples dresses, hats, braces and shoes and had a good laugh at the same time.  

It was lunch time which we spent on the water front enjoying more of the sunshine and the air show before promenading down to the vintage car 'drive past'. It wasn't really a drive past from where I was sitting as it appeared that they ran out of car parks and soon the cars were all stopped by the side of the road.  Harry wandered up and down, Jill and Graham sat in the shade and I sat in the sun under a little poem written by Darryn John Murphy 32 years ago...

"White waves upon the ocean

Will beat a path to where I roam

For in my heart there is a presence

And I will call that presence home".

It was then time for our art deco walk.  So, over to the shop to watch a video about the earthquake and the art nouveau, art deco and spanish mission architecture that Napier is known for. It's been 81 years ago since the Napier 7.8 earthquake on the morning of 3 February and we thought about Christchurch still reeling nearly one year after from the earthquake that devastated our city at 12.51 on 22nd February.  I guess Napier is one of the cities we can look to for inspiration for our south island city.  The art deco walk took us by: the first supermarket; the masonic hall; the insurance buildings; banks (which didn't have verandahs as there were no produce to protect from the sun), lots of magnificent painted and decorated reinforced concrete buildings, wood work and art work.  We learn't heaps, all the services were put underground (quite inspirational back then), verandahs were attached to the buildings as earlier ones held up by posts had collapsed, there were no poles so street names were tiled into the pavements (practical until the car came along big time), and the maori art work woven into the art deco style.  Pretty impressive and worth going on a tour as there is so much to miss when just wandering the streets.

And after some more frittata and quiche we headed off to the soundshell for an evening of brass band, jazz and dance. By the way, it's great fun playing tunes with those braces!!

And an air show kept the aeroplane enthusiast happy.

Owhiro Bay

It was another quiet weekend - a bit of gardening and tidying up and while the rest of the city was enjoying the Chinese New Year celebrations and the Island Bay festival Harry went to work at the port for a couple of hours and I went and had a walk and sit at Owhiro Bay (where I forgot the sunblock and needed it for the first time in a few weeks). Owhiro Bay is home to the Taputeranga Marine Reserve and it was quite entertaining to see the seaweed skipping the surf and wonder what else was under that water.  So, what did I miss...over 180 fish types of fish, about 420 types of seaweed, lots of invertebrates like crabs, starfish and rock lobsters and in the evening there are little blue penguins as well.  No wonder I like it so much.

This must be one of the shortest blogs I've ever written.

New Plymouth

This blog covers two weeks - been finding it a bit harder to keep up with our blogging since we got back.  We're just as busy as when we were away, so not sure why...Harry had a trip to Napier for a morning (flying certainly is a bit faster than our trip the previous weekend) and we spent most of the weekend being very lazy (Harry watched a bit of cricket in a cold southerly) but besides that it wasn't until Sunday when we ventured out of the house to see the Velux 5 Oceans yachts leave Wellington for their next part of their marathon trip around the world (55,000 kms).  A few kiwis on board and so the crowd was out.

I've played a bit more bridge - though the scores show that 'once a week' is really not enough if you want to be more than a novice.  It was Sharon's birthday and we spent the evening with her and Aaron at a restaurant in town - as Aaron said - we have missed out on so many birthdays and it was a extra special day since she turned 25.  Mike left for his stag do in Las Vegas (with 24 or so others) - and as a Mum I am not entirely sure I want to hear anything about it until he is safely back. And this a photo of our first home grown scallopini (might be the last as the rest don't seem to be maturing before falling off their stalk).

Then it was a long weekend in New Plymouth.  We met up with Nylan's parents - Jenny and Roland and had a nice evening eating a lovely meal and talking with them and a friend of theirs Viv. And as per usual we did our sight seeing bit. We walked along the waterfront and along Back Beach, up the hill that overlooked the port, around the harbour (the busiest little harbour we have seen) and around the rhododendron garden Pukeiti (where Harry and I had our usual competition on who can take the best photo  - this time for the best rain drop photo - its close!!). The gardens were donated to the locals a few years ago, and although they are now free to walk around, gone is the great gift shop I remember and the cafe was closed cos it wasn't peak season.  Not sure if the changes were for the best but the garden was pleasant to walk through.

We also did a few excursions on the way there and back.  We stopped at Dawsons Falls on the south side of Mount Taranaki and walked down to the falls with a number of other tourists.  I'd been there as a little child but somehow can't remember the falls, only the car park which was up the road.  So, it was good to revisit, enjoy the native bush and the rather large steps we encountered!!  We were lucky, on the way down we managed to see a bit of the mountain and further to the west Mounts Ruapehu, Ngauruhoe and Tongariro.  A poem at the visitors centre which sort of supported the local saying - if you can't see Mount Taranaki it is raining, and if you can it will rain soon.

Rain

It rained and it rained and rained and rained.

The average fall was well maintained.

And when the tracks were simply bogs,

it started raining cats and dogs.

After a drought of half an hour,

We had the most refreshing shower,

And then the most curious thing of all,

a gentle rain began to fall.

Next day was almost fairly dry,

Save for the deluge from the sky,

Which wetted the party to the skin, 

And after that the rain set it.

We also picnicked at Virginia Lake in Wanganui a well known spot for weary travellers to take a stop.  There is an art deco building there - the winter gardens and we were treated to an array of begonias and colour and also to a sculpture exhibition (see Caramello sitting on the Wall of China). Wonder why blogs have a mind of their own and won't centre photos sometimes.

We also stopped for lunch at Ohawe Beach - we'd never been there before - but any one who knows me well, will know that is a perfect place for a lunch -  a bit of sea breeze, watching the sea roar from a high cliff top.  The little fishing village was quaint, and on the way back we compared our little fishing villages with those we visited in the UK.

We also stopped at the Tawhiti Museum in Hawera - worth a visit if you haven't been before.  Lots of exhibits and models (the creator Nigel Ogle is now spending his spare time with Weta), particularly relating to farming and the Maori land wars.   

"I hope my enthusiasm for local history comes through the displays. I'm particularly aware of drawing children into the displays - they mustn't feel museums are old buildings, full of old dusty junk. Historical display should be exciting and I'm always looking for more innovative ways of making it just that."

We learnt a bit about two local characters. Kimball Bent and Chew Chong.

• Kimball Bent was around in the late 1800's and early 1900's and although originally hailing from Maine he came the NZ via Liverpool. He had a bit of dubious character from what I gather which included a visit to prison in Wellington, a few lashing from his military commanders. In 1865 he deserted the military life and went and lived with the Ngati Ruanui iwi in South Taranaki. It sounds as though he was a bit of slave at first, forced to marry someone he 'didn't like the look of' but eventually was reluctantly accepted. He's been written about twice - James Cowan wrote "The adventures of Kimble Bent: a story of wild life in the New Zealand bush" and Maurice Shadbolt based his novel Monday's Warriors on Kimbles antics.
• then there was Chew Chong who was born in the 1820's in Canton.  A well educated man, he worked in Singapore, Aussie and then NZ.  He seemed to have a lot of respect in Taranaki and the museum included his butcher shop, pictures of equipment, fungi (gourmet food and medicine), acupuncture - you name it he seemed to dabble in it.  He built quite a business with a few stores selling the usual stuff and the not so usual like chinese silk, paintings, cocksfoot seed (don't ask me), and he then made butter and introduced one of our first share milking systems. A popular guy...

"Although Chew Chong had broken away from the Chinese community in New Zealand, he retained a strong sense of Chinese identity. When he returned to China with a son in 1905, well-wishers presented him with a bag of sovereigns. Earlier, he was hailed as a pioneer of the butter industry, and in 1910 85 prominent citizens presented him with another purse of sovereigns and an illuminated address. This stated that he had saved 'many a family from want and penury' through his export trade in fungus, and had 'led the way' in butter manufacture in Taranaki". 

http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/biographies/2c17/1