Denise and Harry's Blog

Zealandia

2012-01-15T00:41:00.000-08:00

It was the birthday girls chance to suggest what we did and so on the last day before work began (and after a couple of days of gardening, cleaning up and going to movies - Tin Tin, We bought a Zoo, Fall of a City (weather was a bit wet and stormy) we decided to go to Zealandia for the day. On the web it was described as A paradise that took 80 million years to evolve and was almost destroyed in the last few hundred...We had a long walk around the lake and up onto the hills with stops to admire the takahe, saddleback, kakas and tuis. A good day out - but a tad expensive for the average local to go often.

We also had a little detour to see one of the oldest homesteads in Wellington. A cute little house, where we wandered the garden - but it was closed so we couldn't go in (every time I pass it - it is closed!!). It is the city's oldest building - built in 1858 by William and Catherine Wallis - recently married - what a way to spend a honeymoon - seventeen weeks on a ship with lots of other immigrants. They liked the Nairn Street site (saw before buying which apparently was quite unusual I think) because there was a stream - they'd heard about the earthquake in the Wairarapa three years early which had created tidal waves that swamped Wellington town's water supply causing pollution and the spread of typhoid.

Farewell Spit

2012-01-11T21:44:00.000-08:00

I caught the ferry on Saturday morning - wet and windy with the promise of 2 metre swells. In the back of my mind was the thought that southerlies usually mean a reasonably good trip across the Strait and so with this optimistic thought I wandered onto the Kaitaki - my first ferry ride in NZ in a number of years. It's a relatively new boat, not crowded (just like coming back) and so plenty of room to put up my feet, snooze and drink cups of tea - they even offered ice to help ease the queasy tums and sick bags (which I didn't need to consider). Then it was a couple of bus trips with lots of stops to Marahau. I learnt lots from the drivers who enjoyed chatting about this part of the country ...

Kiwifruit is now grown on high rise wires rather than horizontal - I guess that utilises space better and also it is easier to pick as the fruit hangs down.
There is a local controversy over the colour of the bird protection nets as some rather large gardens are covered in red and white which some consider conflicts with the green landscape - I must admit having seen them from the lookout I would tend to agree - green is more in keeping as long as they don't choose flourescent.
Blenheim has some burgeoning wetlands - after being taken over by willow many decades ago - it is now a place for indigeneous trees, plants and creepy crawlies to live. It will take a while but will look great after a few more years.

I met everyone at Marahau after numerous attempts to send them a text to say that I would arrive on time or I could go on to Collingwood. No cell phone reception anywhere they were. We travelled windy roads over the Takaka Hill, negotiated slips on the road to Collingwood and Pakawai, had a yummy dinner at the cafe before pitching the tent for the night (in the rain). Early to bed (and it was New Years Eve). Fireworks a bit too close to the tent, some not very melodious singing, a very thin mattress that slipped on the tent floor - but we slept o.k. Six o'clock get up call!!

Farewell Spit is on the 'Original 101 Must Dos' for a Kiwi http://www.aatravel.co.nz/101/original-101-must-do-list/page/10/. I have a feeling I might try and talk Harry into doing more on the top 101 list. The spit's original name was Onetahua (meaning 'heaped up sand') which seems a really apt name to describe this 35 kilometres of pure golden sand - it is afterall the longest natural sand bar in the world. Its an important place for seals (lots sitting and flopping across the sand), birds (albatross, godwits, gannets, canadian goose, oyster catcher, seagull) and is now a protected Wetland of International Importance. And it wasn't just wildlife that have hung out here in the past - once upon a time 3 lighthouse families lived in a dip in the dunes - possibly less exposed than some of the houses on the UK coastline but not much. Boats bought the food so when the weather wasn't good I guess they pretty much lived on fish and birdlife.

The next photo, is of the godwit - prouncing around with its royal stance. These birds are amazing - according to scientists monitoring their migration habits over the last few years. There has been some research carried out by some New Zealanders about the flight patterns of these birds. They fly around the pacific rim virtually non-stop. Well a couple of stop overs for food and rest. They've discovered this by attaching satellite-tracking transmitters to some of them. They travel from Farewell Spit or the Firth of Thames to Alaska via eastern China or Russia, have a few eggs, rear their young and then fly all the way back to NZ. Little E7 (I think she should have had a bit more of an imaginative name than that) flew from NZ to North Korea (non-stop - approx 10,000 km, for 7 days 13 hours at an average speed of 56.5 kph). She spent about six weeks refuelling and then flew a further 7,000 or so miles (another 7 or so days) to Alaska - before making the more direct trip back to NZ.

We wandered around Cape Farewell (most northern spot on the South Island and about same latitude as Foxton), went to a lovely beach around the coast (except no good for swimming) before heading back to the campsite and another meal at the little cafe. That night bonfires were lit on the beach and we sat talking to the guy who helped us pitch our tent in the rain.

Next morning we packed up the wet tent and headed to Collingwood (originally called Gibbstown but renamed after Nelson's second-in-command at Trafalgar). The town grew during the gold rush of the 1850's and at one stage it could have become the capital of NZ but that didn't happen - the gold ran out. Today, Collingwood is a mixture of old and new. Modern buildings include the general store, hotel and memorial hall, while rather special buildings like the old court house and post office have become cafes and backpackers - a quaint reminder of the past. We wandered up to the old cemetery - where many of the first settlers arriving in the 1840's are buried. One rather rare sight was a grave stone for Tamati Pirimona Marino - the first Maori grave stone we've seen in an old European cemetery. So, I read a bit about him...He was the Chief of the Collingwood District Nelson, preferred to keep on the right side of the Europeans although he had been involved with some of Te Rauperaha's conquests in both the North and South Islands. During the goldrush period he fed many hundreds of Maori miners. There's lots more on the web...

Abel Tasman

2012-01-11T17:20:00.000-08:00

After an early start to catch the ferry we were off on our adventure to walk the Abel Tasman track from Totaranui to Marahau. We were supposed to walk from Whariwharangi, with our first night at the Whariwharangi hut, but due to the heavy rain that covered the area before Christmas the track between Totaranui and Whariwharangi was closed.

This meant a night in the tent at Marahau before setting off a day later than originally planned and started at Totaranui. We got to the start by water taxi, these supply the park with regular services as it is possible to walk just parts of the track as a day walk with drop off and pick up by water taxi.

The first day involved getting to Awaroa where you have to wait till at least 1.5 hours before low tide to be able to cross the inlet. This was a leisurely day as low tide wasn't till 6.00pm. The tidal rise here is about 4 metres so it was with great interest that we arrived a bit early and had to wait before it was safe to cross and so watched as the water drained away!

We did do one thing that made our walking easier and that was to have our big packs taken to each hut each day, by water taxi and therefore only had to carry a day pack with our lunch and clothes essentails.

The weather up until now had been good, but on the second day it was a bit overcast, although it only rained lightly a couple of times for our walk from Awaroa to Bark Bay. The Bark Bay has a lagoon that is also tidal and we went for a swim in the rain while the tide was still in, later we walked out to the island we had earlier swum out too.

The third day saw the weather take a turn for the worst and it rained all day with it quite persistent at times. When we arrived at Anchorage hut we were absolutely soaked through to the skin with every bit of gear wringing wet. The hut was busy with everybody trying to keep out of the weather by sheltering on the verranda. We at least had dry packs and were able to get into dry gear and try and dry some of our stuff.

On the way we took a detour to Cleopatra's pool, which involves walking along side the Torrent river, however at one point we had to cross the river and it lived up to its name by being a torrent and impassable so we had to turn round and go back with out seeing the pool.

The last day and it was still raining but it was only light drizzle but it persisted all day. We finally got back to Marahau where we enjoyed some hot chips and a hot chocolate while we waited for Denise to arrive on the bus from Picton. The 4 days of walking was very enjoyable and it was great to be walking through lots of native bush, as most of the park was never cleared for farming and it has been left in its natural state. The long golden beaches and bush make for a very enjoyable environment.

Massey Memorial and Somes Island

2012-01-03T00:14:00.000-08:00

Boxing Day - a leisurely start and then Harry and I took a picnic lunch and headed towards the Massey Memorial (aim was to find an uncrowded picnic spot around the harbour) and then a gentle walk somewhere. We found both - ate left overs and then wandered up to the Memorial - a huge marble structure on the top of a hill over looking the harbour. The only memorial of that size we can think of in Wellington. It was built in memory of William Ferguson Massey (and his wife), the Irishman who started the Reform Party and became New Zealands 19th Prime Minister in 1912. In those tumultous years he became well known for quoting "All we are and all we have is at the disposal of the British Government". Besides that he is remembered for his interests in our rural economy probably as his parents were tenant farmers who also owned a small property. They moved to New Zealand in 1869, although Bill stayed in Ireland for a bit longer to finish his studies. Although the bush walk up to the memorial and the structure itself is well looked after the walk up to the gun emplacements above was very overgrown and weedy. We agree with Peter Jackson - it is time to return the land to the people of Wellington so we can make it into a natural reserve for everyone to enjoy (we think it is owned by the Ministry of Defence like the buildings in Shelley Bay which seem to be falling into disrepair).

The next day I waved goodbye to Harry, Jim and Margot as they drove off to the ferry to begin their walk. The floods had closed the first hut but they had managed to get a campsite at Marahau for the first night and so the walk started just a day late. I had come to the decision just before Christmas that to walk the track would not be a sensible decision for me due to its condition (lots of slips), and catching the water taxi every day wouldn't be much fun - so in the last week I booked an appointment with the knee specialist for January and some later ferry tickets so I can meet up a bit later on and go to Farewell Spit. So, Harry will do a separate blog of his travels when he returns... It was another stunning day and I decided to go to Matiu-Somes Island (named originally by Kupe after one of his daughters Matiu more than 1000 years ago, and then renamed after the Deputy Governor of the New Zealand Company, Joseph Somes). Just a few years ago it was given the double barrelled name in recognition of its bicultural heritage. It is now a scientific and historic reserve and a regular visit is a must for me. The island was made a reserve in 1995 and about 14 years later was included in the Treaty of Waitangi cultural redress for Taranaki Whanui ki Te Upoko o Te Ika A Maui - three inner harbour islands were returned to iwi. The island is still protected by reserve status, accessible to the public, and managed by DOC. It has heaps of history and I remember a little bit more each time I go. The island has been:

a human quarantine station - where many immigrants arriving on ships were cleared or hospitalised here and either recuperated or were buried. The little hospital is now a visitors centre where before it nursed those with typhoid, smallpox and scarlet fever. One of the first things immigrants had to do was to sit in a smoke house, in chlorine, potassium nitrate and sulphur fumes, for 10 minutes to get rid of lice. What a welcome!! One of the saddest stories is of a Chinese fruiterer, Kim Lee who they thought had leprosy. He was isolated on Mokopuna Island, just north of Somes in 1903 and lived in the cave on the little island using packing cases for furniture and shelter. The lighthouse keeper delivered food and water to him by boat, or by flying fox when the sea was too rough. Lee died in 1904 after six months of exile and it is now thought he did not suffer from leprosy after all.
an animal quarantine station from 1889 - where animals lived their first couple of months in Kiwiland. They were quarantined on the island for 30-60 days to check they were free of disease. In the early 1970's a new maximum security animal quarantine station was completed and for the first time exotic breeds such as elk, red deer, alpaca and llama where imported from a range of countries rather than the standard sheep and cows from Britain, Australia and Canada. As the need for quarantine stations declined (due to importing of ova and embryos rather than live animals) the station eventually closed.
an internment camp - and a memorial now stands looking across to Wellington in remembrance of the Italians interred there during the second world war - around 300 enemy aliens were shipped to the island together with their families and businesses.
a military defence position - where sheep now graze amongst the gun emplacements.

The little lighthouse stands proudly on the south coast of the island - lighting the path for ships coming into the harbour since 1865 (well the old one was removed and is now in Timaru so it is nearly the original). I enjoyed the walk around the island, sitting watching the kakariki flit around, the gulls squawking and the lizards scuttling away as they heard my footsteps. The red and yellow flax were flowering and so was the toetoe (which is native to NZ - the larger pampas grass which is very similar was imported and we saw lots of it in Europe) and the blue gum hebe (which is actually purple). I am still yet to see a tuatara bathe in the sunshine, but did see some wetas in their manmade motels.

In the evening Sharon and Aaron came around to tidy up the rabbit hutch. We did a great job, until we lifted the floor and discovered a nest of bumble bees. I must admit I had never thought where a bumble bee lived - it is always wasps nests one finds. So, Astro isn't using that for her holiday home and after reading more about bumble bees we might follow the advice I found on http://www.bumblebee.org/faqNests.htm

"What do you do if you find a bumblebee nest? Really the best answer to this question is Do nothing! You can, of course, look forward to enjoying watching the bees come and go. The farmers who grow tomatoes under glass pay a fortune for bumblebee nests, yours is free, and at the end of the nesting period you will have a bumblebee nest to look at and examine. You can try following the bees to see if they all visit similar shape and colour flowers. In fact you should consider yourself quite lucky. However I realise that you may be worried about where the nest is located and what might happen. You may not feel lucky after all. Firstly I must reassure you that bumblebee nests are not like honey bee hives, they last only a few months, and are usually small enough to hold, and bumblebees are not as ferocious as wasps. The bees are fairly placid and are unlikely to sting unless they feel their nest is threatened. So if the nest is under the house or shed it is best just to leave it...Some of the bumblebees which make smaller nests, do sometimes chose strange places to nest. Their nests are small and in the case of B. pratorum are usually very short lived. So again, I would say leave the nest alone. If this is impossible, for example if the nest is under your rotary lawnmower that you forgot to clean last year, or in the pocket of your gardening jacket that you left in the shed at the end of last summer. You may feel that you have no choice. Well you can try to move the nest to somewhere more suitable, or even better, remove the lawnmower." If the bees are the ground nesting kind things are more difficult. The tunnel to a nest can be two metres long. This calls for quite a lot of digging, and really they are best left alone."
Sharon went and bought a new holiday home for Astro and we are taking the advice for the good of the bumble bees (and cos we don't want to get stung). And just because - here is a poem by CJ Heck who I think might be youngish.

Today I saw a bumblebee.
He was on a pretty rose.
I leaned in to look at him,
and he stung me on my nose!
I wasn’t gonna squish him,
only watch and see …
but I’ll never get THAT close again
to a grouchy grumble-bee.

The next day we went to see the bridesmaid dress material, I had lunch with Mike and then after a bit of a lazy afternoon said goodbye to everyone before they head over to Sydney for new year. Thursday was a trip to Otaki to take a look at the shops (in case I see something to wear for the wedding - which I didn't) and in the evening I went to see The Iron Lady - although a good movie I found it was a bit disappointing as the life of this great lady was seen through the eyes of an old person - which is an interesting story but always entwined with sadness. Though, I guess old age comes to all of us lucky enough to see it. The weather turned wet, windy and cold on Thursday evening (just like the weather forecasters predicted) and so I didn't get up early on Friday and only ventured out to do a bit of last minute shopping and to feed Astro.

Christmas

2011-12-27T13:06:00.000-08:00

The week before Christmas flew by. We monitored the DOC site about the impact of the floods on the Abel Tasman, Mike and Becks arrived from Sydney, we had lots of fun gatherings which included learning new card games. We said goodbye and happy christmas to our little elf (Gina) who was heading home for Christmas. Work went quickly - and then it was Friday. Harry and I spent a lazy Christmas Eve afternoon sitting on Plimmerton Beach with only a few other people (who either weren't cooking Christmas dinner, or had it all organised). Harry and I went to the evening Christmas service at the Salvation Army and saw this little video made by the children from St Pauls Church in Auckland - we shared it with everyone the next day and its worth watching - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zduwusyip8M This was our first Christmas Day in 5 years. After lots of discussion with our family we decided not to buy presents this year and everyone found that Christmas was a lot more relaxing because of it. Christmas Day was stunning weather wise - 28 degrees outside on our little lawn, good company for brunch (Sharon, Aaron, Mike, Becks, Reuben and Olivia) and for dinner (Don, Judy, Mike, Becks and Matt), some laughs over charades (10 minutes to act out 'Suzy Snowflake' I ask you!!), lots of groans over the questions in the quiz I had made up and the jokes in the home made crackers (we had to make our own bangs when we pulled them) and some more laughs over a game we hadn't played before Balderdash. The nut roast was a bit of a disaster (it was mainly for me and with meat options available so no one else really noticed). Don and Judy bought my second only summer pudding a real treat and the newly tried ginger, toffee and chocolate dessert was worth a photo and a second helping. Even though this isn't a food blog - here's the recipe - oh so simple.

Whip up some cream and add some ginger marmalade and grated chocolate

- it depends how strong you like the ginger but I used a 500 gram jar of marmalade

and about 2/3 litre of cream. The grated chocolate is really only for looks.
Put in a bowl (lined with tin foil so that you can get it out easily) and freeze.

Make the toffee bits by melting some sugar (I think I used about 3 tablespoons)

in a pot and adding some almonds at the end. I never knew toffee was so simple.
Once it is set (fridge helps) break it up into

lots of pieces (hammer, rolling pin or treading on it are all options for this fun activity).

Melt the chocolate and spread over the cream once you've
taken it out of the bowl. But do it only a little bit at a time -

otherwise the chocolate sets before you have time to poke in the toffee.

Admire, take photos, and put back in freezer till you need it.
PS - take the photo before cutting as you know what cutting chocolate is like.

More Celebrations this week

2011-12-25T15:47:00.000-08:00

On Sunday we had brunch with Sharon, Mike and Aaron before taking Mike to the airport. We bought a cabbage tree for our lounge - okay I know they grow real big but it is a little one and it might just be happy in a pot for a year or so - it was too pretty to ignore with those long yellow and green leaves. We then went back to the airport to pick up Anne in the evening. We've had two earthquakes this week - well four actually but we only felt two. One when we were in the dining room and the other at work. Christchurch has certainly made people react faster and we were all in doorways or under desks within seconds. I can understand why our fellow Cantabrians feel nervous. It was also birthday week and so we had a birthday dinner on Tuesday night - I am getting a bit carried away with trying new recipes - canelloni and thai veges go better together than one would think. Chocolate overdose was ok as well.

During the week we also took Gina to Karori - we saw the house she lived in for the first two years of her life and our little house just down the road which is painted a dark grey which doesn't really suit an older style villa. We reminisced over stories like Jonathan wandering up to our place when he had got into trouble and stopped by to say hello to Jill, Graham, Clare and Mya on the way back.

It was also Christmas lunch at work - and after the meal we completed a scavenger hunt in the botanical gardens. The fun or embarrassing part depending on how you look at it was dressing up as zoo animals - my team went as giraffes. Tail, mask and ears were the order of the day and with a cruise ship in town and a tourist bus at the rose gardens we got lots of weird looks and questions with many taking photos and videos of the Wellingtonian wildlife!! Not sure if the Minister of Tourism would consider this a good sign or not.

On Friday we drove up to Rotorua. The third birthday to celebrate this week - Wayne was turning a big 'O'. The trip went well and dinner was a picnic at the view point on the Desert Road. The hills were a mass of yellow lupin and broom - very pretty with the mountains and power pylons in the background. I don't think we've travelled this road much during summer but it certainly is the time to do it if you aren't looking to ski.

We arrived in Rotorua and found our little motel without any trouble. It was a bit run down and with two others for sale on the street we could see there isn't much money in the city to do accommodation up. They had painted the rooms but not to our standard - no hot points or light switches taken off so paint was on them, peeling paint had been glossed over, and the hot pool which we enjoyed (a mere 40 degrees) was also in need of renovation. But it was quiet and clean and cheap. Why was there a hot point and switch on the ceiling - we wondered if it was to charge your cell phone so if it rang in the night it would be beside your ear!! Others have more boring suggestions like a wall mounted tv, fan, air conditioning unit - and there were other suggestions I just won't repeat in a family blog. In the morning while standing in a bakery wondering why there were no vegetarian rolls we had a text from Sharon and Aaron inviting us to breakfast at their hotel where they were celebrating another special persons birthday (I won't say how old he is but he is inching closer to another big 'O'!!). So, we left the bakery without buying anything and settled for rather a yummy breakfast in Holdens Bay (little side tour to see the motor camp where I used to take Michael and Sharon for our holidays - its been subdivided now which makes it look quite different). We were going to drive straight to Tauranga - but then thought better of it and spent an hour being a tourist in the wonderful grounds of the museum. So, here's some pictures and history of the very special place - the area called Tawharakurupeti - the site of a huge battle a couple of centuries ago. It has a few famous places and buildings like the:

The carvings at the beginning of the paths - were given by the people of Ngati Whakaue to commemorate their original gift of the land in 1880.
Blue Baths - built in Spanish Mission-style - but to us look like art deco (about the same era). This is one of the first places where families could bathe together for fun - at other spas there had to be a therapeutic reason. The building was closed in 1982 but reopened 17 years later after restoration. We wandered into the tea rooms, but like last time the pool was closed for a private function.
Then there is the Rachel Pool - which had a lovely name Whangapipiro until it was renamed - get this - after Madame Rachel who was a British con artist in in the mid 1800's. She ran a beauty salon which had a personal guarantee of everlasting youth to those who used creations eg a magnetic rock water dew from the Sahara Desert (discovered later to be made of water and bran). She married three times, sold clothes, was jailed, and sold cosmetics advertised in a pamphlet entitled "Beautiful for Ever". The shop was a front for blackmailing wealthy clients - where she offered up to sixty preparations of make up including face powder. She was involved in prostitution, fraud and blackmail, arrested numerous several times and jailed in 1878 for five years where she died. Just remind me why our lovely pool is named after her.
Te Runanga tea pavilion - where tourists and invalids could relax, read, drink or mineral waters on the veranda or just look over to the Blue Baths and the steam of Rachel Pool. For a while it had a life as a bowling pavilion but then was restored in 1993 and opened exactly 90 years after its original opening. Unfortunately closed for tea on the day we visited.
The Gardeners Cottage - which was built in 1899 for the head gardener. Lovingly restored to its
original colour it overlooks the bowls and croquet greens - what a place to have lived.
The Croquet pavilion - built in 1907, with a pagoda type roof it was originally a ‘tennis’ pavilion. It was moved to this site in the 1920's, had a terracotta roof added about 30 years later.
Government House - a wonderful building which now houses the Rotorua Museum. In the early part of 1900's it was Rotorua's Bath House and became our government's first investment as the tourism industry began to grow.

Finally we left Rotorua and drove along State Highway 36 to Tauranga. Up hill and down dale where we saw a wonderful array of summer wild flowers and shorn alpacas that looked like scrawny sheep with long necks and legs. Who says NZ doesn't have history. This little road has it all. Besides being the only road for many years between the two cities - first horses and then cars travelled this windy road. Then came WWII and it was thought that the Japanese just might invade. They certainly came close to it. The home guard built lots of road blocks (over 1200) so that any tanks that might invade couldn't get far. On this road two tank traps were built - and the remnants are lying around beside the road (huge concrete slabs).

Mount Maunganui was a picture of blue sky and seas, pohutukawa in bloom - just the right place for fish and chips on the beach (though a bit over priced - I guess the extras such as a plastic fork, serviette and lemon slice added up!!). After a gentle walk around some of the Mount for photos, a peer into the horizon for the stricken Rena, and some thinking about the impact of the oil slick on bird life and the coast (it has been cleaned up amazingly well). We enjoyed Wayne's party - Harry caught up with people he hadn't seen for decades and I met some new people.

Admission Day

2011-12-08T03:07:00.000-08:00

Friday was another proud moment day for me as a Mum. Sharon was admitted into the Bar at the High Court in Wellington. It was a day steeped in tradition with the moving counsels and law clerks dressed in black gowns, white ties, and wigs. The judge gave a speech, the 20 or so clerks said a thank you, agreed to follow the law and signed the register. So, a bit of history before writing more about the day. Call to the Bar is a legal term - the bar refers to the wooden barrier which separates the public area at the rear from the space near the judges reserved for those having business with the Court. Barristers sit behind it and can use it as a table for their briefs. The call refers to the way the judge summons the lawyers to address them at a hearing. After the ceremony we went to lunch with David (first cousin once removed) and family. David was also admitted and Jeremy (David's grandad and Sharon's great uncle) was Sharon's moving counsel. The Wellesley club put on quite a nice lunch (I had mushroom rissoto balls). It is now a boutique hotel but once was a very famous club for 'prominent' men (hence one girls loo on the ground floor and another on the 3rd - both fairly new additions I think). It is named after Arthur Wellesley ie the Duke of Wellington, of Waterloo fame. In 1891 when a group of Wellington businessmen decided to establish a gentlemen’s club, they chose the name Wellesley - I guess after the Duke. A short time to Christmas shop and then we headed off to Sharon's law firm for drinks and celebratory speeches - more nice things said about our girl. Michael arrived from Aussie after a short delay in Customers (red 'S' on immigration card means Search apparently). We then headed off for dinner at a Japanese restaurant where eggs and rice were thrown and I wore a plastic bag on my lap just incase I didn't catch them. Sharon had invited lots of her friends I hadn't seen for ages and so I enjoyed catching up with them and with Mike during his flying visit - the night went very quickly.

All that excitement and I almost forgot to mention - the glorious week weather wise we've had. The southerly and northerly winds blew themselves out and its been calm, sunny and oh so warm. One night during the week I met Harry at the Botanical Gardens and we spent a couple of hours, smelling the roses, listening to the pine cones crackling in the hot sunshine and waiting with tourists at the skyline view point to get that postcard photo of the cable car. The Lady Norwood Rose Garden is sheltered from the winds and the roses showed no ill effects from the blustery conditions of the few days before. The garden has been around since 1872. Lady Norwood was the wife of Charles Norwood who was originally an Australian, but became an agent for the Morris car and later was elected as mayor of Wellington. He founded the Wellington Free Ambulance as a result of witnessing car accident on Lambton Quay where he had problems finding an ambulance for the victim. Presumably Lady Norwood was a very special lady but like so many good woman of that era nothing about her features in history. On our walk around the gardens we saw a wonderful Mexican Hand Tree - deep red, five fingered and loved by the tuis and also some sculptures by Regan Gentry of the wharariki (flax), ti kouka (cabbage tree), pohutukawa and toetoe before continuing our walk.

We also went to Homewood - The British High Commission house in Karori was open to raise money for Save the Children. Around the mid 1800's the first judge of the Supreme Court Henry Chapman bought a few acres of land in Karori - Homewood was built on a couple of them. It was originally built and lived in by the Johnston family who were into business and also public affairs. It was sold to a few families over the years until it was sold to the British government for its high commission in 1958. Since it is a pretty old place, as buildings in New Zealand go, it is now looked after by NZ Historical Places Trust. So, we wandered the gardens, looked through some of the rooms in the house and then spent a while sitting in the sun watching Morris Dancers, Barbershop Quartets and Pipers. I also found a chocolate book which might come in handy for the birthday boy next week.

St Andrews Day

2011-12-02T23:58:00.000-08:00

It was a very windy week in Wellington - well the whole of NZ really. While walking to meet Jo and Noel for lunch I saw some tourists in their campervan waiting to cross the Strait on the ferry. They were smiling and I wondered how long it would be before they stopped. Some Aussies asked me if it was always windy? I said "Nooooo". Gina arrived on Monday night and we've spent the week catching up which has been great. Harry went to Nelson and Dunedin and I stayed in town (I really get quite envious with his travelling around the countryside). The weekend was busy catching up with Jill and Graham and planning our outfits for the Art Deco weekend, having dinner with Sharon and Aaron and then going to the panto with them. As per normal the Christmas show was written with a bit of poetic licence and lots of local innuendos. It was election night so lots of references to the characters of the 'political' show we'd been seeing over the past few weeks. Aladdin was written by a famous NZ playwright Roger Hall and after seeing it will have to read the real story to see how close it was to the truth (all I can remember is the magic lantern, the flying carpet and the genie). We came back to a recorded version of the election, which was great as a 4 hour show could be reduced to about 1.5 hours. On Sunday we went to the celebrations for St Andrews day. Lots of pipers and Celtic music - the stage was battered about by the wind but the crowd sat sheltered by the food and gift caravans and so we had a great time listening to Robbie Burns music and watching people attempt to dance. We didn't know much about St Andrew and so when we got back I did a bit of googling. He is the patron saint of Scotland and also Romania, Russia, Ukraine, bits of Italy, Malta, Greece and Portugal. The day is also celebrated in Austria and Poland. Its a holiday in Scotland - but the banks don't have to close (like other bank holidays) and employees don't necessarily get the day off but students at the uni of St Andrews do have a day of leisure. The day has some superstitions surrounding it and I was intrigued to find that most had a marital theme - it was a day of magic where a young woman could find out some info about her future husband eg:

In Poland they pour hot lead into water or hot wax through a key hole into cold water - the shape that comes out at the end says what the future husband's profession will be.
In some areas in Austria, young women have a glass or two of wine perform a spell and kick a straw bed - all this while they are naked - I guess this could magically attract a husband or two if the bed kicking was a public affair!
Others throw a clog over the shoulder: if it lands pointing to the door, the woman will get married soon.
In some parts of the Czech Republic and Slovakia, the names of potential husbands are written on little pieces of paper and are stuck to a piece of dough. They are cooked and then put into water and the first one to float to the surface of the water would reveal who the lucky man was.
In Poland, some women put pieces of paper (on which they have written potential husbands) under the pillow and first thing in the morning they take one out and that's the lucky man.
In Romania, it is customary for young women to put 41 grains of wheat beneath their pillow before they go to sleep, and if they dream that someone is coming to steal their grains that means that they are going to get married next year.

What do you think of the kiwi version of a deck chair in the photos?

Whareroa Farm

2011-11-24T23:09:00.000-08:00

Harry went travelling - down to Dunedin, Oamaru, Timaru and ended the week in Christchurch. Did a bit of walking and took some photos. Oamaru has quite a bit of Victorian design and some nice old buildings.
Christchurch CBD is still like a ghost town, but they are working hard to get things moving and trying to get life back to normality. Also took a walk through the botanic gardens with quite a few flowers in bloom.

Harry returned just in time for another exciting weekend. On Saturday night we went to the Graduation of the students of the Performing Arts. Very talented group of people - with some exceptional dancers - although we couldn't quite get the themes behind some of the modern dances - assuming there was one! On Sunday we had a chance to try out our new walking poles. We went for a walk to Whareroa farm with a group of walkers that Margot has put us in touch with. It was back to the area where I grew up. The farm is just behind Paekakariki - managed by the Department of Conservation for a few decades - it is slowly being turned into a regenerating native forest. It is a working sheep and cattle farm, but gives the public the opportunity to tramp, mountain bike, ride horses over hills and down dales while enjoying the views over the Kapiti coast. Its been farmed since the 1850 by a guy called Alexander MacKay (that's where MacKays crossing gets its name from) and was later a training and recuperation camp for US Marines fighting in the Pacific campaign in the second world war. I used to go over the back of our house and find cutlery left by the Marines - what a pity I didn't keep them. After the walk we went shopping for duvets and pillows. No photos cos a bit misty.

Wairarapa

2011-11-21T14:55:00.000-08:00

Week 3 of work - how long do you have to work before you forget how many weeks you have been there? It has been a proud Mum moment this week with Mike's company winning two awards at the 2011 annual AAGE awards - I think that stands for Australian Association of Graduate Employers. The celebrations are on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Q6MXpfHmmo where you can see him and his mates dance the night away. The two awards were for Best Supplier to the Graduate Recruitment Industry and Award for Best Exhibitor. So, didn't they do well!! We came first at bridge again - I doubt whether we can keep the winning streak up much longer and on Saturday we drove over to the airshow. We arrived early so Harry would have time to see the exhibits. There were none so he came along with me to a market which wasn't very good and then had lunch in the park watching school cricket (there was meant to be a Teddy Bears picnic on but we couldn't find it). It was funny to be back in a country town as both the airshow and the A and P show had no signs enticing people to come to them. Anyway about the airshow - here is a few of the 500 photos Harry took and what he had to say about it...
It was good to get back into the NZ aviation scene again, you most probably don't get to see this many WWI aircraft flying anywhere in the world. It was great to see some new aircraft to the NZ skies. Although only 2 of the aircraft are original the rest are full scale replicas that in some cases are built from the original blue prints.

While Harry watched aeroplanes I drove to a garden to have a look see only to find it was closed on Saturday and then to a wildlife park only to find it was closed all the time. So, I consoled myself with buying some herbs for my new herb garden and some veges for some pots and my new vege garden (capsicums, zucchinis, eggplants and chillis). I've decided to get into the real yummy veges rather than peas, beans and silverbeet. I was just getting to the stage of wondering what I would do next when David rang up and invited me around to their new home in Carterton (not new to him or Maggie but I hadn't seen them in 4 years). To end the day nicely Marty and Cheryl came down for dinner and we went to a local pub and caught up. At the pub there was a clock that had stopped at exactly 4.35 on 4th September last year - due to the shock news that New Zealands'only Guinness draught production line was closed - it obviously hasn't opened anywhere else as the clock is still grieving! We always said Guinness tastes better in Ireland.

On Sunday it was a glorious day and Harry went and did his thing as a crowd supervisor and the Christmas Parade (it suddenly occurred to us that we didn't see any of these in England - though the Christmas markets are really good) and I lay in the sun and read my book after I had planted all my veges. In the evening we popped around to see Judy and Don. Back to work...

Fireworks and the Proms

2011-11-14T01:09:00.000-08:00

Our first week of work. I got up early every morning, Harry spent 3 days in Auckland, the internet and tv went down, my partner and I came first at bridge and by Friday night I was shattered. A good sleep in and we were ready for our weekend - but oh too short - why do they seem shorter when you have to go to work! Nicki and Dave bought the girls around for lunch and they enjoyed dressing up in lots of Sharon's old ballet costumes, we went to Jill and Grahams for a yummy Sunday brunch (they have a waffle maker!!) and to talk about our February art deco weekend (dress up etc is required). We bought our conservatory furniture and Sharon and Aaron enjoyed eating our kumara and corn fritters which lots of people like - so I guess I will have to share the recipe and give away my secrets ... its an Alison Holst one ...but in my own words...

Microwave a couple of big kumara and then when cooked peel. Mash and then mix with 3-4 spring onions (chopped), 1 cup of whole corn drained, 1-2 tsps green curry paste, 2-3 tsps of coriander, 2 eggs and 0.25 cup self raising flour. Roll them into shapes and a bit of flour and cook uncovered in some oil for a few minutes till brown on each side. I put some tomato sauce (made by my cousin with no preservatives and quite yummy) and some sour cream with them. Salad and fresh bread go real well.
And the cooks tip - I think the big red kumaras are better for this recipe.

The fireworks on Saturday night were impressive. We sat on the wharf with our feet dangling down to the deep water below (well one of my legs was safely on the more solid side!!) and watched the display with another 100,000 Wellingtonians. It is apparently the 16th year and we've been to most of them except when we were in the UK. So, some interesting facts:

we watched $190,000 go up in smoke
the fireworks were set to music but we didn't hear much cos we didn't take a radio (just a few big bangs)
lots of variety and colour - but we both liked the white displays the best
there were about 150 boats of all shapes and sizes out in the harbour but you didn't need a boat for a good view
they started planning and making the fireworks in June and the fireworks expert is an Aussie.

On Sunday we enjoyed the Airforce Proms. This is an annual event put on by the Central Band of the Royal New Zealand Air Force in the Michael Fowler Centre. It is always a great show as there are 65 instruments (and musicians) but this year Mark Hadlow (Harry from King Kong, and Dori the dwarf in the future Hobbit movie) added a unique humour. And the pipers were there.

Weta Cave and the Roxy

2011-11-06T23:14:00.000-08:00

We spent a bit more money this weekend - a new tv, dining room chairs and bedside cabinets - there is a cost to going overseas - when we left the choice was to either spend heaps storing old furniture or buy new stuff when you return. We compromised and did a bit of both. We are finally putting our stamp on the house, uncovering a few paintings we knew we had, and lots we had forgotten about (most of these are going back into storage me thinks). Watched the rugby world cup with a huge sense of relief rather than elation - what a nerve ranking game. We went to the parade in town to celebrate the cup win and it was great to see the crowds out enjoying something - our little country seems to have been through so much earthquakes, oil spills and mining disasters - so everyone seemed to want something to celebrate. Photos not brilliant - rain and crowds but you get the picture.

We went for a walk to Makara - one of those blustery days where the car is nearly blown over in the exposed car park but once around the corner the walk is quite pleasant and warm. I enjoyed being swept up the hill and then finding it hard walking down hill against the wind. Another day we wandered up Old Coach Road and joined the Mount Kau Kau walkway. It was rather muddy coming down and we were lucky not to slide down most of the way. Sharon took away some Christmas decorations and gave me all her soft toys to look after - fair swap I'm not so sure!! We also played a duet on the piano and ukelele - considering we are both teaching ourselves it was something for the ears to behold. Our stuff arrived from England and Harry put all our soft toys upstairs with all the others.

During the week I played my second game of bridge - my mind is beginning to get attuned to card playing once again but the results still aren't that great! Then it was the last weekend before work began and we wondered where the time went. During the weekend we met up with Jan who made a flying visit to Wellington. We went to 'The Bach' for coffee and to Weta Cave. It is described as a 'mini museum' which is quite apt - it is a room not much bigger than our lounge. There is a video to watch (24 seats all taken in the two sittings we were around for) where we were given an 'exclusive insight into the creativity and imagination that goes into crafting the art of Weta'. I must admit we didn't realise that these gifted people had been involved in lots of movies like Muppets and Tin-tin as well as the ones they are well known for. 'In our mini-museum, you come face to face with some of the characters, props and displays from your favourite movies'.

Then it was on to Miramar's Roxy Cinema. Harry used to go to this theatre when it was the 'Capitol' many years ago. I can picture a little boy buying his sweets and excitedly going into a movie. Built in 1928 when silent movies were the thing to go to, the theatre has now undergone a huge make over - keeping the art deco facade the place has been renovated inside ridding itself of old theatre and the shopping mall look. This is in the suburb of movie making and has had the support of many of those involved in Weta. Inside was simply amazing with the interior built by the team who work at Weta Workshop. Next movie we go to will be at the Roxy. Incidentally, there is still a bakery next door where Harry bought a coffee bun each day for his lunch when he was little. Another trip down memory lane...and the bun was very good.

http://wellington.scoop.co.nz/?p=33359

Wiltons Bush and Climbing some hills

2011-10-24T16:51:00.000-07:00

In the last few weeks we began reacquainting ourselves with our home city. It has been fun - revisiting places that we haven't been to in a long time. We have lots more to see. We've visited Wilton Bush - ranked Number 83 of 161 things to do in Wellington by Lonely Planet travellers. We visited the little Visitors Centre (we've done it before but couldn't remember much of what we had read). Richard Seddon (NZ Prime Minister) put through in 1903 the Scenery Preservation Act which had a focus on preserving New Zealand's natural and historic heritage. This enabled the country to set aside large areas for national parks and also the creation of Wilton's Bush in Wellington - a rather large area of natural bush gifted to the city - which means us descendants can benefit from some very good thinking back then when many people were coming to the country and cutting down the trees for buildings. We didn't take our cameras as it was raining but we wished we had...we got close up to a Kereru (native wood pigeon) for the first time and watched in awe as he kept one eye on us and stripped the leaves from the Kowhai tree to eat while we stood only inches away.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Zealand_Pigeon
Then it was on to painting the little downstairs toilet (mint green which actually looks really nice) and then the lounge (back to vanilla which will also looks nice). Hint for those bored with decorating: bubble wrap makes good protection for the carpet when you don't have enough old sheets and while you 'roll' you can compose 'pop music'. I took a trip out the coast to see Annette and her Mum and couldn't resist taking more photos of my favourite island. Kapiti Island - an island just off the coast of where I grew up. It apparently was created by earthquakes 200 million years ago when the tip of a mountain range rose from the depths of the sea. Before man came along moa and kakapo lived happily together with plenty to eat. From the Kapiti Coast it looks like a bush clad island ranging fairly steeply to its ridge, from the seaward side it is an island of cliffs. We've spent a few happy afternoons their enjoying the bird life and salt air. Kapiti means "motu rongonui" or "famous island" and it was the habitat of the Maori until the 1830's when the European whalers came to shelter there and share in its natural wealth. 10 years later the land was cleared for farming and with all the animals that farming brings the bird life decreased and soon whaling was also on the decline. In the 1870's some very far thinking naturalists identified the island as a possible site for a bird sanctuary but it took nearly 30 years to give it a status for preserving our wildlife. Richard Henry was caretaker back in the early 1900's and after a few others the Department of Conservation took over the reigns in 1987. Lots of animals on the island weren't native and had to be eradicated before it became a safe haven for many of our protected wildlife such as the kakariki, robin, bellbird and saddleback, stitchbird, kokako, takahe, kereru, tomtit, kaka, whitehead, tui, fantail, long tailed cuckoo, brown teal, and saddleback, kiwi (including the little spotted kiwi that is extinct on the mainland) and weka. We must get a wildlife book of NZ to see what some of these look like. Over the last few months they have realised there is also a family of stoats - a real threat to many of the flightless birds and so another eradication programme has begun...

We've seen more friends and watched more rugby. Wales vs France, Aussie vs South Africa (sitting on concrete at the fans zone), All Blacks vs Aussie and the semis (with Jim and Margot). I've almost had enough (did I say that?). On the way to brunch at Sharon and Aaron's we went for a walk up Wadestown Hill. The trees had grown even taller and so the views from the north end are quite limited. Though, it was a good steep hill for testing fitness levels.

During the week we went to 42nd Street at the St James - continuing our love of going to live shows. We've been spoilt as although the show was very professional it lacked a good story line and compared to others we have seen was no where near the top of our list. Nicki has promised to let us know about the shows put on by the Porirua Little Theatre as they are always fun to go to and usually have a theme that captures the imagination. We've both signed contracts and our working life rebegins on 31st October. No more sleep ins during the week or long walks during the day. But it is time to get back into the real world. We climbed Mt Kau Kau on Thursday and were surprised how busy the walk was considering it is a working day. Maybe more people than we thought do not work a full week. It was great - sunny, windy, still, warm, cold - one of those days. The gorse was pretty, but more so the native bushes with the little orange flower (we are yet to identify it by name - google just isn't doing it for us). Here's some photos from another of my favourite places.

Our first few weeks in Wellington

2011-10-16T23:50:00.000-07:00

Our first week in Wellington - sunny, warm and great to be back. We've got lots of boxes to unpack but we're doing that slowly as we've decided to paint rooms before moving in to them. A good idea in theory but it means we aren't quite settled yet and we keep thinking we having 'something' but just don't know where it is - like the hooks for the book shelves to sit on and the lids to the pots. We spent some time with Mike and Rebecca and her parents before saying goodbye early one morning at the airport (4.00 am), watched a game of rugby with Sharon and Aaron and spent time with other family and friends. It has been great. The cherry tree is out in the garden and so is the kowhai - dinner place for the family of tuis - Harry has been out each morning taking photos.

And the NZ navy has come to visit Wellington (well almost 11 out of the 12 ships). We've been down for a look as they are moored at the wharves and Harry went onto the "Wellington" but not the others as the queues were rather long (it was one of those days where the fan zone was full of lazy people, and the navy crew men were enjoying a picnic on their decks). We also went to see the boats sail out of the harbour on one of those days when the southerly has hit town, the clouds were low and the sea spray is all around (another way of saying not much to see).

We also wandered along the 'black boot' outdoor exhibition and read some snippets and photos about some great rugby players over the decades (along with lots of French speaking people that day)...

In 1984, 22 all Black captains had a photo taken. The oldest was 92 - Beethoven Algar (his mother loved Beethoven's music). In WWI he was the bodyguard for Lawrence of Arabia.

Pat Vincent is the only captain ever to have stood on his head in a yoga position before a game (that's what they did back in the 1950's!!).
Back in the 50's the teams had no subs, managers, specialist coaches, doctors, physios or water boys. Injuries - just meant keep on playing with fewer in the team.
Alex Wyllie back in 1975 told his team that there were only two excuses to miss training - death and docking lambs.
Jazz Muller trimmed his hedge with a motor mower.
40 or so years ago touring teams were issued 2 jerseys for the season. By the end of the season the team was known as the All Greys.

The weather has turned a bit colder this week and we've wrapped up well. We've had some people in to give us advice on ventilation and heating systems and decided on some extra heaters and a ventilation system. So, we should be sorted just as summer begins!! We've also painted the bedroom (pink - a joint decision believe it or not - Barbie would like it), and the study where we vetoed the pink look and went for a neutral vanilla. New curtains are a must in the bedroom - and perhaps the study now that I have washed them and they've shrunk a bit (not saying how much). On Friday we went to the Maori art exhibition at Porirua. Very impressive. I think I was half expecting an artsy crafty thing but we found a display from a very talented group of artists - ceramics, weaving, glass ware, painting, jewellery, wood carvings. We were really impressed with Roi Toia. We didn't take photos but I grabbed one from the web which is similar except the carvings we saw were of the full bird about to take flight. Rex Morton - owner of Boulcott Street Bistro and food creator for premier seats on Air New Zealand we were told by an American couple - did a cooking display where we learnt how to cook a hangi without cooking a hangi, and how to smoke fish on a barbeque (the latter we just might try - sawdust, tea are key ingredients - oh you need some fish!!). We then did our touristy thing and had a thermos of tea on a park bench at the harbour watching the seagulls and discussing our shopping list.

Auckland and trip to Wellington

2011-10-01T14:04:00.000-07:00

It was a long flight but we did manage to snooze through some of the 14 hours so it wasn’t quite as tedious as I thought it might be. Graham picked us up at the airport at 6.30 which we were exceedingly grateful for and after breakfast and a quick chat I went back to bed for a few hours. The next couple of days were spent looking for a car and now Satchmo (Red Honda Jazz named after the great Louis Armstrong) will take us for many a trip along New Zealand country roads. We didn’t see much of Auckland but spent the time catching up with my uncle, cousins and friends and watching a bit of rugby (Wales vs Samoa in a pub with support from our red dragons made by Rochelle). Yes the world cup has started and flags are flying, so are accents and there are volumes of camper vans on the road.

We left Auckland the following Monday and travelled to Taupo – why not delay our holiday just a bit longer? There was a little bubble of excitement as we drove down through the Matamata countryside (hobbit land) - lots of sheeps, cows, pigs, mountains and spring flowers. We stopped at Waimangu thermal village which we hadn’t been to before – no mud pools but some fascinating steamy lakes, sulphur terraces with a boat ride on Lake Rotomohanu thrown in. This was the crater lake of Mount Tarawera before it erupted in the 1800's. We saw some baby geysers and gazed at the spot where they think they have located the pink and white terraces under about 60 feet of water. This is where Hinimihi (the little meeting house in Clandon Park near London) was nearly covered with ash but she stood her ground and sheltered 100 people or so during the eruption.

We arrived in Taupo (via the new deviation) rather chilled from the afternoon of walking through native bush to the Lake but it was o.k. Harry had promised me a 5 star hotel with a spa for our last night before we descended on Wellington and all the house shifting work started. Yeah right!! 1 star hotel with character – first built in 1869 by Joseph Joshua who must have been watching westerns on tv even back then to have created the tavern, pool room and sleeping quarters – all it needed was a horse and cart outside and a couple of people in cowboy hats playing with pistols. It didn’t get any better as we drove round the back to our room (was this a suitable environment for our new Jazz?) which was a chalet near a tumbled down building. I mean this place has history - the spa was built on the site for the armed constabulary during the Maori wars. In 1869 a lean too structure was built over the steaming river and then a wooden bath was also built so that all could enjoy the warm waters (including us but we spent most of the time in the pool psychologically preparing for the run back to the chalet). Joseph Joshua organised a meeting house to be carved in memory Chief Te Tama Mutu's wife. It is now protected and the only privately owned meeting house in NZ - legally it can never be removed from NZ (looked great inside but needs a bit of maintenance on the outside). The hotel is clean and provides all the essentials. We read the following instructions about heating...‘Open the window at the back of the bathroom to let the heat in’. Might sound silly but we did give it a go as there is a thermal stream close by which heats the pipe behind the building and also the pool we had a dip in. In theory o.k. in practice not so 'hot' leaving the window open led to cold ankles while sitting on the loo. And if we wanted breakfast (and it is highly unlikely we will given the look of the dining room) we can order an English one – bacon, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, eggs and toast, or an American one (just add hashbrowns, baked beans, eggs and toast to the bacon), or a Kiwi breakfast – all of the above . After sampling a good Italian dinner down town we believe there might be a better breakfast place and it will probably have free wifi (and some views of the lake).
PS we thought this was our room for the night but it wasn't we were in a group of about 6 units slightly newer but with the same look and no pongas.

On the way down to Wellington we drove through the Desert Road and stopped to throw a few snow balls. It was a bit cloudy and so we couldn't see much of the mountains which was a shame as there were a number of rugby fans doing the same thing as us. We also had a quick look at the Makohine Viaduct which is on the route for the main railway line between Wellington and Auckland.

We stopped for lunch at Bulls. The town is apparently named after James Bull who was a carpenter from Chelsea in London who arrived in his mid twenties in Wellington in 1857. His claim to fame was he built a chair for the Parliamentary Speaker. He set up a timber mill along the Rangitikei River and a general store in 1859 in High Street (now the home to the local RSA). Given his building experience it isn't surprising he then moved on to constructing the courthouse and a few hotels. Bulls has made a real marketing thing about its name - quite clever really. The town is "live-a-bull and unforget-a-bull" and its where the people are "hospit-a-bull and befriend-a-bull". By going to school you can become "knowledge-a-bull and educate-a-bull" and if you are younger daycare is "love-a-bull an care-a-bull". The museum is "memor-a-bull and visit-a-bull" and the Information Centre is very "inform-a-bull". There's lots of places to eat that are "eat-a-bull" but McDonalds is also "McValue-a-bull" and the drive thru is "drive thru-a-bull". If it is a paper or some milk you want you can go to the local diary which is "avail-a-bull". Antiques are "afford-a-bull and collect-a-bull" and the local fire brigade is "Extinguish-a-bull" and the local police is "const-a-bull"...you get the picture.
And then onto Wellington

Vancouver

2011-09-25T00:59:00.000-07:00

9 hours over the Atlantic and I was pretty bored (made smiley faces with my pretzels) and watched a few movies to pass the time as did Harry. But the trip was worth it. Vancouver has done it! It has made our 'top city list' along with Dublin, Edinburgh, Sydney, Wellington, Barcelona, Istanbul and Berlin. We arrived to glorious sunshine and the promise of it lasting all week (according to everyone we spoke to). The city reminds us of home; detached houses with individual designs, hills, trees, harbour and the promise of lots of outdoor activities. We managed to find our way around the city easily on the first day - bought a $9 travel card - which no driver wanted us to validate ("don't bother", "just go", "quick quick" were the responses from the bus and boat drivers) until the end of the day when checking became a bit more rigorous. Some bus drivers drive with attitude and enjoy seeing the elderly and the not so elderly dance down the aisle and slide off their seats as they accelerate or brake. In the block around our hotel there were 6 Vietnamese restaurants and a few other Asian ones and so one night we tried Poh soup and another an Indian/Chinese restaurant called the "Green Lettuce" (worth a visit if you are in Kingsway). Throughout the week we have been impressed with the vegetarian offerings - and these weren't all in the central city. Here's some tips if you are doing the touristy thing in Vancouver...

Better to buy icecreams from non-tourist shops (Magnums were up to $6.17 each at the suspension bridge).
Most prices don't include taxes so mental arithmetic is required to make sure you get the right change.
Breakfast bagels can be cut evenly and smoothly using a bagel cutter and toasted on one side using the bagel mode on the toaster or you can do it the kiwi way - cutting it with a plastic knife and using the normal toaster.
Buses don't give change we were told - that's o.k. as our trip was going to cost $5 - what they omitted to say is they don't take notes either.

Before we upload loads of photos of our trip and tell you a bit about what we did in this wonderful sunny, warm week I thought I'd type a bit about some of the things we learnt about the history of Canada as it is a reasonably new country (newer than NZ and Aussie)...

There is a high proportion of Asians in the Vancouver community - many arrived in the 1800's during the gold rushes and others in the mid 1800's as migrant workers for the railway. Although, Europeans and Asians seem to live together peacefully Harry and I noticed that there seemed to be little socialisation between the ethnicities (we were the only Europeans in the Vietnamese restaurants) and very few mixed relationships.
In 1914 a Japanese steamship arrived in the harbour carrying 376 passengers from India. They'd travelled via Hong Kong and Shanghai and were British subjects. They were legally entitled to settle throughout the Commonwealth but officials didn't want them so they were refused entry on the grounds they had not entered directly from their own country. The ship remained in the harbour for two months while anti-Asian politicians tried to prevent their entry. Anti racial feelings continued throughout the early part of the 20th century but with the Second World War attitudes began to change. Asian Canadians got the vote in 1949 and the government apologised for the steam ship episode decades later.
Stanley Park was the home of the Squamish nations who "buried" their dead by lashing big wooden boxes to the red cedars in the area. Later on, it became the cemetery for most people but in 1906 the federal government began to try and remove the inhabitants (it was afterall now a park!). The park has a range of totem poles commemorating their lives and ancestors and I particularly liked this quote. "Tangible things, such as feathers to use in a ceremony, the meat of wild duck, smoked salmon, are sometimes filled with special significance because they are using in a traditional way during the winter dances. Intangible things are equally important: the sense of community, the importance of the family, sharing, being together, hearing the words spoken...when things become difficult, we remember our ancestors and we are proud" and things did become difficult for the aboriginal people for many years.

One day we caught public transport up to Grouse mountain - a summer tourist resort but in winter a ski field. We were told this was one of the best days they had had all season which was a fairly common comment all throughout the week. It was the first day of school and so very quiet and peaceful. The leaflet said..."Wowed by the wildlife. Inspired by the views. Thrilled by the activities. Everyone can love summer on Grouse Mountain rising 4100 feet above Vancouver". So after two bus trips, a seabus and sky train ride we arrived. We saw brown bears - orphaned but now fully grown. Once these animals have been touched by humans they can't be introduced into the wild as they consider people a source of food and could become a threat to them. Grinder and Cooler live in acres of land with a pond, lots of trees (they eat the bark to gum themselves up during hibernation) and greenery and a winter shelter for hibernation (they don't actually hibernate but are dormant which means they get up occasionally for a wander around). They seemed to enjoy the attention of cameras and put on quite a show for us. We also went up the lift in the tower of the turbine to see the wonderful view of the US and North British Columbia. There was also a lumberjack show which I could have missed and wished I had when except Harry whistled the Lumberjack song all day!! All joking aside the show was quite good.

"I'm a lumberjack and \I'm o.k.

I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay.

I sleep all night and I work all day".

The highlight for us was probably the ride on the zip wire - 5 flying foxes through the the bush, each one higher and longer than the previous one. For me the biggest challenge was standing on the box and being clipped in - I sure didn't look down until I was securely fastened.
"Stand atop the platform get harnessed in... and fly. With the wind in your face and your heart racing, experience our dual track, five line ziplining circuit and tour through BCs most picturesque scenery in adrenaline packed two hour tour, travelling up to 80 kms an hour".
As there were only a few people around we had the two guides to ourselves (Tom and Lee) and so we were told about Deep Cove (which we visited) and they also recommended that we should try the national dish pondine (chips, cheese and gravy - does that sound appetising or what?).

A couple of bus stops away from the chair lift is the Capilano Suspension Bridge - a wobbly but fairly sturdy bridge that takes you from one side of the gorge to another so that we could walk around the tree tops in the local forest. Sheer granite cliff faces offer views along the canyon and also of the indigeneous trees - Douglas Fir, Hemlock and Red Cedar. We were surprised that with all these trees there was very little birdlife...

We spent a whole day in Stanley Park. It was named after a Governor General to Canada back in the late 1800's. This was time on our feet. We walked along the coastline where roller bladers and cyclists have their own lane and are required to go anti clockwise around the park. Here we stopped to see otters chomping on fish and playing with their siblings, cormorants diving for their dinner, ducks swimming along, seaweed floating (grows up to a foot a day), topless and not so topless bathers at the beach, police on horse back who warned those smoking weed to hide their cigarettes with the clip clop of hooves and watched the tugs going backwards and forwards as we hummed ...

"Won't you ever grow up Little Toot
Won't you ever grow up Little Toot
When there's work to be done
All you think of is fun
Won't you ever grow up Little Toot"

We also walked inland to Beaver Lake which was an array of water lillies with frogs, dragon flies and ducks that sat on trees. We saw little black squirrels (which may turn grey as they get older - just like Haz), and then wandered through the rose and flower gardens back to the bus stop. Another day we finished our walk by going the other way around the coast towards the wharves. That was the day of the 'Paws for a Cause' walk and so we were accompanied by 1000 dogs and their owners - all shapes and sizes. We stopped by a cedar tree which has spiritual power as strong as its wood and to receive its power all we had to do was stand with our backs to the tree. Also, as the tide was low we saw the remnants of the fish traps created by the local Salish people centuries before. The fish would swim into the pools made by the rock fences but as the tide goes out they were trapped and caught for dinner.

We wandered around the main city a bit but not as much as we could have. It was often on the way to catch a bus or a ferry or the sky train. We did stop at Gastown (named after Gassy Jack Deighton who was an English sailor who arrived in Vancouver and set up the first saloon in 1867). Beside his statue and the place where the maple tree once grew (where ancestors decided that this city would be called Vancouver) was the worlds first steam clock (not that old but known more for its novelty). It toots every 15 minutes. Around Gastown is some fairly sleazy streets which we walked quickly through on our way to Chinatown. We also went to Whistler (named after a little chipmunk animal that whistles morning and night) but more well known as the home of the 2011 Winter Olympics. The train trip looked scenic but the price a bit steep ($250 each) so we opted for a much cheaper bus trip. It is a pretty ski resort which they have managed to make into an all year resort. Down hill bikers use the slopes in the summer and travel up on the chair lifts and gondolas with their bikes. Tourists do the Queenstown thing and catch the gondolas up for the view (5000 feet and then across to another peak) and in 30 degrees play in the snow - it was great fun.

On our way to Whistler we stopped at a few places. First there was Howe Bay - green and icy waters (known as flowering as the ice melts little particles of rock also travel down with the water and light hits it making it look green). We took a detour hunting for bears (not successful as they tend to go into the forests once food becomes plentiful) and also looked for climbers (a few climbing vertical cliffs - what a sport?). Shannon Falls is the highest falls in Canada and were quite spectacular even though the volume of water cascading from the hills above was nothing like it is after the snow begins to melt. Our last stop was

Horse Shoe bay - with cars and their passengers waiting patiently for the departure of ferries to Vancouver Island, small pleasure and fishing boats and little restaurants, steep hills falling into the sea below. It had quite a Picton-like feel about it.

Deep Cove was recommended to us by our zip wire guide and it does not feature in many travel books. It was a little seaside settlement with a few cafes, shops and lots of parks, marina and kayaking place. We hired a kayak and paddled around the inlet with the seals (a little bit nerve racking until we realised they weren't interested in playing). We got rather wet (paddling technique not quite as good as professionals) and so afterwards sat in the sun in rather indelicate postures waiting for the sun to steam us dry.

One day we decided to go to Victoria as so many people said 'you must go to Vancouver Island'. The trip was rather lengthy - two bus rides, a ferry (orcas and seals entertained us during the trip) and a taxi (the day we went was the beginning of a beer festival we were told by the two we shared a taxi with as the bus queues were rather extensive and we had had enough travelling by then). Victoria is the capital of British Columbia and so we wandered around:

Parliament a bit similar to NZ's houses of parliament as you could walk around it without any fences. Outside was a totem carved at the timing of the closure of the Commonwealth games in Auckland and the beginning of Vancouver as the next host in 1994.
The marina to admire the little floating taxis and sea planes.
Inside the Empress hotel which stands majestically overlooking the harbour where apparently kings. and queens have had Afternoon Tea in the lobby (which shorts and tee shirts were not the appropriate attire).
around Helmcken House which is the oldest buildings in British Columbia (150 years) and was home to a surgeon named John Helmcken of the Hudson Bay Company. Beside it is a relocated old school building of about the same vintage.

There was lots more to see but unfortunately we didn't have the time or the energy.

And so we left the Number 3 most liveable city in the world to arrive at Number 10 most liveable city.

Baltic Capitals

2011-09-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

Another game from my little pack of tricks "how many words can you find in the name of your destination". Good thing we weren’t going to Pisa as it would have been a very short game. Copenhagen - with a little bit of help from the plane enthusiast sitting beside me we came up with 50 words, 2 seven letters – not bad for 10 minutes of brain power. Why do airlines all have different rules about weights and numbers of bags? A rhetorical question. We spent a wonderful 5 minutes repacking our bags as Norwegian Air insisted that each bag could not be over 24 kgs - where other airlines insist that one bag can be lighter as long as the combined weight is not over the maximum for two people. At Copenhagen airport we waited a long time for our bags and when they arrived they appeared to have been left out in the recent downpour (either that or someone had poured a very large jug of water over them). Did you know that passport stamps are beginning to be a thing of the past – we haven’t had one since we left the UK (how sad is that?). A taxi ride (fast) to the boat and we were ready for our 7 day cruise around the Baltic capitals. First impressions – had we booked a room at a Las Vegas casino? Glitzy and full of excited people. There are places for everyone - rooms for different languages (8 different ones of which English is a minority), a library for those wanting some quiet, outside sunny spots by the pool or up front to see the view, places you can eat any time until the early hours of the morning and friendly staff from all over the world (high percentage from the Phillipines, India, South America and 1 from Liverpool to help those few English speakers). We had an indoor room (cheaper by far) and found it quite large and unexpectantly nice (two year old ship means modern design and bright decor), reasonably quiet and very very dark at night. There is music and shows every night (dance shows can only be described as spectacular – break dancing very very good, but even the singers and other artists managed to keep our attention for 60 or so minutes). We could even croon and practice our waltz steps with ‘Love Boat’ music. We went on a tour of the kitchens, shiny, sparkling clean (just like the ads for sunlight liquid) where we learnt about managing waste, how they prevent cross contamination with specific areas designated for dealing with meat and designated staff only allowed in certain areas eg cooks in cooking places, cleaning staff in clean up areas etc. We thought that a cruise would be the easy way to see the Baltic capitals – a bit of a treat with not having to lug our suitcases around too much (our new black one already has a broken wheel). But after walking the decks a few times from our cabin in the back to the food places in the front we’ve decided it might have been less exercise to walk between hotels and stations in towns. First day at sea we had a life boat drill - up early to put on our life jackets and stand on the deck in queues to watch the staff put on and take off their life jackets in 8 different languages (interesting though if an emergency called for it there would be strict loading priorities on the life boats - woman and children first - even though there is enough room for everyone or so they say!).

Our first stop was Tallin – a delightful little city (400,000 people) which reminded us of Bratislava. A place we could have spent more than 1 day wandering around. A number of cruise ships had arrived during the morning and the town was abuzz with markets, cafes and food places (one McD’s, two Irish and one Australian pub) with many locals dressed in medieval dress. It rained a bit but up went the umbrellas and the walking tours continued. We stopped in a cafe for some nice desserts (I know it was lunch time but just too tempting) and then walked up to Parliament (where the tv cameras were out but we had no idea why), around the church of Alexandr Nevsky (Tallins oldest church and well maintained) and into the Dominican Monastery (13^th century which was lovely and tranquil), down to the Occupation Museum (which was closed on Mondays which was disappointing as we were keen to learn about the fall of communism in Estonia and the War of Independence which appears to have shaped the political life of the country since the early 1920’s). On our way back to the ship we walked up and across the roof of the Tallin Concert Hall near the port. Although no history was available to us at the time we decided that it was built during the communist regime (grey, dominant and large) and it had been left intentionally to slowly return to nature - a reminder of the times, but not a monument to something the country would prefer to forget.

Then on to St Petersburg where we visited Catherines Palace (lots of gold and white with one room completely outfitted in Amber). Sheer decadence built to suit the tastes of an over indulged Princess. The palace had been destroyed by Hitler and his troops and rebuilt and renovated during the communist era. We wandered the garden, took a boat ride around the canals (tide high so we were allowed outside if we lay on the floor as the boat went under bridges) and went to Swan Lake in the evening. It is hard to describe our impression of St Petersburg and our first visit to a Russian city. Was it where the tour took us, was it the well informed but unenthusiastic tour guide with her monotone of history but we detected a ‘heaviness’ and a lack of vibrancy. We had a sense of being excluded from the real Russia – no smiles, no enthusiasm, people walking from A to B with a determination, a city without laughter. The streets were wide, traffic heavy (Harry noted that most cars were either European or Japanese with only Russian commercial vehicles), but we saw no market stalls, little socialisation on the streets and certainly no bars or cafes over flowing on to the pavements on quite a sunny day. It is interesting though, if the tour had taken us to the Nevsky Prospekt which is the cultural and commercial centre of the city we might have seen a different and far more interesting city and this is confirmed by friends who have also visited the city. So our advice to fellow travellers is be careful about choosing organised tours - paying the $120 visa and ‘doing your own thing’ just might be the way to go.

It rained all day during our visit to Helsinki and so at the last moment our cycle trip around the Finnish capital was cancelled and we had only one option ‘a boat trip around the islands’. Donned in lycra and high vis tops (only joking but we did have our shorts on) we arrived on the boat and during the trip we learnt alot about the health and education systems, climate (in summer you travel by boat but in winter you can make the same trip by car over the ice) and the economy of Finland but didn’t get to see much as the windows were scattered with raindrops and the cloud was low. Apparently the city is a mix of architectural styles, has many museums and art galleries and lots of churches but we’ll leave others to experience them and be on our way...

Ever been to a city and thought ‘we could come back here’ but you know you probably won’t as it will be too far away from home for another trip and besides there is too much else to see. Well, Stockholm is one of those. It is a pretty city built around the harbour and a fresh water lake – lots of bridges where only pedestrians can wander. We visited:

The city hall (where the Nobel prizes are not given out but the dinner and dance is held). The exhibition included a dinner setting of the nobel prize dinner - each diner gets 70cm to enjoy their meal. The salt holder is in a shape of a koru leaf. We were impressed by the architecture and design (not as grandiose as palaces but built with a purpose that commoners could visit and admire). The organ is huge and apparently takes some playing as it takes 2 seconds for the music to travel from the keyboard to the pipes.
The palace where we learnt heaps about the royal family (at one point in Swedish history the king was elected and if he wasn’t liked he was shot – "better than torture" our guide said). The king and queen now inherit the position from their parents but it is the first born and not the first male that does the inheriting - and there is no coronation simply a ceremony of allegiance. The royal head is also far more active in politics and meets at least quarterly with all the Ministers (see photo of all the red chairs in the meeting room) to discuss political issues (get the impression impartiality is not required).
Parliament (on an island by itself) which looked down the pedestrian mall busy with shoppers (where you could get a street massage).
Stockholm’s narrowest street (Harry could just walk down it without going sideways) and the smallest statue (not much bigger than Caramello). We were also shown a "gossip mirror" - before tv, people would sit in their chairs and look at the mirror to see if friends were coming along their street - upon seeing friends windows would open and invites for afternoon tea would follow.
The Vasa which was a Swedish warship that was built in 1628. The ship sank on its maiden voyage - it only got about 2 km out from its moorings. The model showed a beautifully carved and painted ship, and the ship was salvaged in 1961 and was in surprisingly good condition (low salinity in the Baltic sea we heard).

We sailed from Stockholm early evening and spent a long time out on deck as we left the city - many kilometres of Sounds and little islands.

On the last night of the cruise I began to feel a sore throat coming on (was it all that airconditioning) and our second day in Copenhagen I spent in bed. The first we decided to catch the hop on hop off bus and said 'Hi' to the little mermaid on the sea front, wander through the park and castle, took photos of fountains and the second day Harry wandered to the Resistance Museum and up and down some canals to see where Hans Christian Anderson lived and worked

Tuscany

2011-09-08T22:22:00.000-07:00

It was a long trip – although the plane was on time it took a while to drive to the airport. Friends at work had given me a pack of cards “52 things to do on an aeroplane” (they know me well) and so I had tried it on the first leg to Paris 1. Stretch lots of parts of your body (which I will practice more since it is rather like doing Pilates in a confined space but you don’t need rubber mats, balls or weights). The second activity I chose on the Paris to Pisa leg was to think of things that begin with each letter of the alphabet. I had a little help. So here we go...

A is for the Airbus A320 we travelled on to Pisa

B is for the teal blue teeshirt worn with pride

C is for the carry on luggage which looked a bit oversized

D is for the duty free goods that come down the aisle

E is for the earrings on the man with long curly hair

F is for the French language we heard uttered somewhere

G is for Google which we weren’t allowed to use

H is for Harry who helped with k, t and y

I is for the interior of the new plane orange, white and grey

J is for Jim sitting a few rows in front

K is for the four kiwis snoozing, eating or reading

L is for the liquid refreshments we had with our muffins

M is for the bushy and black moustache on the gentleman in front

N is for the nuts you could snack on for €3

O is for orange the colour of the Easyjet brand

P is for the purple painted toenails resting in jandals nearby

Q is for the queue for the loo which grew and grew

R is for the runway where the plane arrives and departs

S is for the safety sheet in the pocket of our seats

T is the tannoy which is the public announcement system

U is for the umbrella packed in our bags

V is for the velocity 900 km per hour

W is for wing that we sat behind

X is for the x on the no smoking sign

Y is for the yellow strip to light the path if we land somewhere unplanned

Z is for Zealand imprinted on our teeshirts after New.

I’ll never be a poet but it kept me amused which Harry is grateful for – just think there are 50 more activities to go and only 27 more flying hours during our holiday.

Tuscany is the land of olive trees, sunflowers, grapes, figs and corn. Harry and I had one lazy day by the pool and we walked through the little village of San Baronto close to where we are staying. It has a few houses, a couple of pizzerias open in the evenings, a little supermarket and a tourist information centre which is open sometimes. The town is perched on the top of a hill above a fairly densely populated area of Tuscany and we found that the goal of many a cyclist is to get to the top (careful driving and patience is required as they often go two abreast or ride in the middle of the road on the country roads). Our house is colourfully decorated, orange, yellow and red with a pool (open all hours if you are quiet) with no more rules or hidden charges that you would expect in a house you hired for a week, so we could swim and listen to the sounds of crickets and just relax...

We spent a day in Volterra (followed a slow campervan with a huge kiwi decal on it) where a medieval fair was held in the village on the hill. Although the town was similar to many others it came alive with the community dressing up and acting the life of medieval Volterrians (I made that name up). We were conspicuous (white skin, cameras, and ‘glowing’) but enjoyed the re-enactments of sword fighting, acting, drumming (snored to the beat in the shade at one point) and flag throwing. When looking for the cool we headed inside to the council chambers (which doesn’t feature in the guide books but had wonderful wall paintings) and the Duomo which is a 12^th century building with some rather elegant engravings and paintings. There were also heaps and heaps of touristy type shops – particularly those selling alabaster ornaments the pride of the Volterra area since VIII century BC (dig the chess board – oh how I wish we had given into temptation – but our bags are so full – perhaps an online purchase when we return).

Another day we went to Pisa (we chose probably the hottest day – 40 plus). Have you ever wondered how many photos that other people have taken you might feature in? The square around Pisa was really packed and we would have unintentionally been in quite a few. I didn’t really have high expectations of visiting the leaning tower as we had seen it so often in photos. But there was a WOW sensation when we walked into the square and saw the tower – we weren’t prepared for the exquisite architecture all around us. We were in time to book a slot to walk up to the top of the tower and so we spent most of the day until 3.40 walking around viewing the sites (of which there weren’t that many outside the immediate area around the tower) and finding places to sample long cool drinks (watermelon slushies go down a treat – and when you are trying to make them last a while a good game to play is to make ice sculptures that friends have to guess – imagination and some expertise is required to accurately guess Mona Lisa, Mercedes Benz insignia, flower, volcano, leaning tower of Pisa, octopus, pyramid to name but a few). Climbing up the tower was an experience – stepping on to the first floor had the ‘ooh’ factor as you stepped into the first lean – but you soon got used to walking up a spiral staircase of 300 on a lean – to the right and then to the left. Italy seems to be one of the few places where we have been where the bell tower is built separately to the rest of the church (or perhaps we just haven’t noticed before). The tower was built in 1350 and originally had seven bells pealing from its heights. The foundations have of course been reinforced and will probably need to be done reasonably often to keep this masterpiece from falling over. However, they are taking good care of it by limiting the number of people going up it (40 every 20 minutes). At the square we also had our first real experience of a pickpocket gang – though we are proud to say they didn’t get away with it. We had placed our beloved little soft toy (who has so many memories of our travels) on a post to take a photo of him and the tower and a girl (slim, brown and good looking) walked along with a group and took him from the post without even looking. Harry yelled at her and went after her and she handed over our friend without a glance. No doubt if Harry had left a bag at this feet it would have been missing when he returned.

A day trip to Firenze (Florence) was a must said the guide book - there is lots to see. We had booked to go and see Uffizi but for Harry and I the highlight was a visit to the Accademia where we saw Michelangelos original David. What an amazing monument to his ability as a sculpture. We also saw a range of other sculptures' work and I was particularly taken with Luigi Pampaloni – a sculpture of a boy and his dog. This has amazing similarities to a painting that has been in our home since I was little. A sailor on the boat on which my grandmother travelled to NZ in 1888 gave her the painting (she was 5 at the time). So, when I get back to NZ and have a better internet connection I will do more research – we just might have found the original artist. We wandered around the Duomo in this rather hot day and found there was no queue to climb the 400 or so steps to the top so up we went. The Duomo is rather large and from our birds eye view we couldn’t really see all the seats that it would take for 20,000 people and the grandness of the paintings and decor. That was ok cos the view from the top was spectacular – we towered above all the orange roof tops to the river and other sites. They are cleaning the Duomo up (an everlasting task I imagine) and one of the most spectacular sights was the doors to the Bapistry which each took about 30 years to complete (Michelangelo described them as the ‘gates to paradise’ rather a compliment for Ghibetti who created them).

One day we made the short trip along the fast flowing motorway to Lucca – a city with its walls still intact. We had been looking forward to walking the wall, but found it had undergone a number of ‘reconstructions’ and was now wide enough to have a two lane road along it – even though the road was for pedestrians and cyclists only. So, we hired a four person cycle and went for a tour. I couldn’t easily touch the pedals so Harry, Jim and Margot did most of the work although I did help when going up hills (I really did!!). This is the town where Puccini was born and so we went in search of his birthplace and then after dinner in the square went to a concert in a rather magnificent old church to listen to his music and a range of other Italian composers. We all enjoyed it.

One of the highlights for us (this was Jim and Margots pool day) was to drive down the windy, narrow road (avoiding cyclists at every corner) to the town of Vinci where Leonardo Da Vinci lived during his childhood. Here we drove and wandered through the countryside (Anchiano is the little village where he was born illegitimately to a maid – although he was brought up in his fathers household). We walked the cobbled streets he would have skipped along in the mid 1400’s and enjoyed thinking about the surroundings that had inspired such an amazing person. We spent rather a long time in the museum (the airconditioning was an added attraction) and viewed many of his drawings which had come to life in models - cars, bikes, cranes, armoured tank, machine gun, sculptures, paintings, weaving looms, clocks and construction machinery.

And if I was ever to write a travel book for those travelling in the middle of summer in Tuscany I would include these helpful hints – I suspect they are not found in other travel books....

If you buy bounty bars and carry them around in your back pack without eating them – put them back in the fridge and when hardened cut them up – that way you save most of the chocolate.
If you pack biscuits at the bottom of your back pack be prepared to eat crumbs (licking the packet is a good option).
If your bag is overweight load up your friends bag – they have to carry it and you avoid the £10 a kilo surcharge (very important for those going shoe shopping at their holiday destinations).
Hot weather during the nights causes great bed hair in the morning – avoid your mates laughing by looking in the mirror and combing your hair before leaving the bedroom.
If you are lost, or in doubt about what turn to take, go around the roundabout as many times as you need - this allows the navigator time to work out the right place to go and avoids taking a wrong turning which can lead to rather lengthy and unnecessary travel.
The street sign for the town you want will always appear just after you have been past the turn off – it is a good idea to find a safe place to do a ‘Uee’ and not to emulate Italians who slam on the brakes and make quick turns in front of unsuspecting tourists.
Speeding can have its advantages as it tends to reduce the number of Italian drivers honking their horns at you and passing on dangerous corners – but beware Audis and BMWs don’t come with indicators and so sticking to the 2 second rule might not provide enough time for corrective action.
When drinking slushies on a hot day in Pisa purchase them at the bar and then sit down, drinks bought this way are half the price of the same drink that are bought if you sit down first.

A week in France

2011-09-07T07:41:00.000-07:00

Out the hotel door after a nice breakfast to find a flat tyre – well not completely flat – there was enough air to get us around a few streets looking for a garage (“hors service” said the air machine) and back to the airport where after meeting up with Jim and Margot we found our way back to the rental car place. Third car in less than a day – a Citroen Berlingo took us towards the Normandy beaches.

First stop was the Pegasus Memorial which is dedicated to the men of the 6^thBritish airborne division – we walked along the first bridge liberated in France in June 1944 and saw exhibitions of Horsa gliders and parachute regiments and then I sat down and read lots of letters written by the men to their loved ones at home – the horror of war becomes more realistic when reading the personal writings of the men. After a short stop at Sword Beach we came to Arromanches where the artificial Mulberry harbour that had been constructed by the Allied Forces lay in large hunks of broken concrete out to sea. We saw a 360 degree film of the film footage of the troops landing back in June 1944 D-day and then took the land train to the beaches for a bit more of an explore. Apparently the Mulberry Harbour (artificial harbour proposed by Winston Churchill) was key to their success.
"Look out to sea and say a prayer,
For those who rest beneath,
They gave their lives that you may share
A Europe that is free".
We then drove to Caen – and took a rather long torturous route around the city trying to find the hotel (there is more than one with the same name and the google map didn’t quite place the ‘A’ sign in the right place). It was the second hotel in France on this holiday where the restaurant was closed (perhaps self catering was a good option after all) so we settled for a visit to the local pizzeria.

A bit of jet lag and exhaustion meant we arrived at Mont St Michel mid morning. The abbey stood high above the skyline and pointed towards the sky - a navigation point for the thousands of camper vans and cars already in the car park (1000+ we estimated – no joke!!) The abbey built somewhere around the 8^th century by Aubert, Bishop of Avrances became a major focus for pilgrims - it doesn’t seem to have changed - the little castle on the hill absorbed the thousands of people pouring from their cars. We could see why it was an impregnable stronghold during the 100 year war and later used as a prison – tides and isolation provided a great defence and would not have encouraged escape. We soon found the thousands of people as many had stopped at the little shops just inside the town walls. It is a lovely time of year to visit France - the first time we had been here in summer - wild flowers alongside the roads and flowering baskets hanging from nearly every lamp post.

Buying summer walking shoes must have done it. Torrential rain in the night and drizzle in the morning in the Loire Valley. We found the supermarket and did a stock up of foods for picnic lunches and easy dinners. Our accommodation is a self catering gite in Parcey le Pins – pleasant surroundings - apple orchards, sunflower fields, grape vines and corn fields with a few paddocks where the local white cows graze happily with their calves. The gite is owned and run by an English couple who run a fairly strict regime – pool to be used only between 10 and 6, no food and only bottled water at the pool, fold the duvet to stop it wrinkling, take your own rubbish to the village bins, €150 security on arrival, charges for using the heaters (no probs there at this time of year), €40 for cleaning if you don’t want to do it yourself etc. All this with a friendly, but do I trust you, attitude. Our bedrooms upstairs were in a converted loft where the ceiling had low sloping beams and the floor had raised beams. A nightmare for getting up in the dark (yes some of us have to unfortunately). If we had tripped and said "Ouch" as we stubbed our toe, hit our head on the ceiling beam, window sill and bedstead (I was pleased I had brought my little bike light). We had one lazy day and took a walk around the countryside down to the little village. We said Bonjour to the supermarket owner, walked the very quiet streets and got barked at by two Chihuahuas which was the most life we saw in the village during the weekday. In the fields the farmers were finishing off their haymaking and beginning their preparations for apple picking (wooden and plastic crates lined the roads) and tractors were beginning to go up and down the lanes. Our guide book (eyewitness travel bought in Cockermouth in the Lake District) says....

“The Loire Valley, world famous for its beautiful chateaux, has long been described as exemplifying la douceur de vivre – it combines a leisurely pace of life, a mild climate, mellow wines and the gentle was of its inhabitants...In this central region of France, the people have neither the brisk, sometimes brusque, demeanour of their northern counterparts, nor the excitable nature of the southern provinces. They get on peacefully with their lives, benefiting from the prosperity generated not only by the region’s centuries old popularity with French and foreign visitors alike, but also by a fertile soil and favourable climate which rarely succumbs to extremes of heat or cold.” The describes the atmosphere that pervaded our holiday well".

Food for thought: If you were a sunflower would you rather be picked and admired in a vase before being discarded or would you prefer to be allowed to grow old and eventually die in a sunflower field and then have your seeds used for oil, salads or next years flowers?

We didn’t spend all our time lazing and went to a few sights during the week. The sites ranged in age from long ago to present day.

Some very old

We’ve now been to the largest amphitheatre in Western France in Gennes. Built over 1800 years ago we could make out the sandstone walls and brick tiers which have been uncovered after years of neglect. This was a stadium that could hold 5000 spectators and included changing rooms and a drainage system. But the acoustics weren’t brilliant presumably because of all the trees that had grown up around the tiers and the drizzly rain.

Further along the road at Rochemenier we visited our first Troglodyte (Greek for cave inhabitant) farm - a community who lived in man made caves. It was similar to the Kinver houses we saw in England but instead of just a few residences this was a cave farming community. So we had insights into how these two ancient farms operated with dwellings and outbuildings cut into the rock. Saw lots of tools, learnt about their religious life and visited their chapel and the community hall (which had no heating as in winter was warmer than the air temperature outside).

Continuing on the underground theme - Deneze Sous Doue was a fascinating tour of underground caves carved by Protestant stonemasons during the 16^th century. There are more than 400 figures chiselled in to the walls, floors and ceilings. The caves and their contents were saved by a French woman called Annie Brethon who worked tirelessly to preserve them. These carvings were created during the Renaissance period where Protestants in France were not popular and were not allowed to practice their religion in public, or to form any community group based on their religion. Apparently, this is where the saying ‘Two’s company and three’s a riot’ comes from. When 2+ congregated they were arrested, accused of conspiracy and sentenced to death. At the same time we also read that in this neck of the woods, Catholics and Protestants got along and church services were held in each religion on alternate days. The stone masons still worked underground (possibly in case outsiders came along) and told their story through their carvings - some satiric others serious. We spent a while hunting for the carving of the Red Indian (with full head gear) and Mary, Joseph and Jesus.

I spied some Dolmens in the guide book and persuaded the others to take a trip outside Saumur and to tap on a locked gate to see one. I am fascinated by these very old creations (we've seen them in Spain and Ireland) - 5000 years old we are told – huge slabs of stone piled together to make a mountain usually to hide and protect dead loved ones. As we walked in I was well aware of the 4 tonnes of stone sitting above and imagined how squashed we would get in an earthquake. I read that at the Dolmen de Bagneux you could have a drink in the local bar garden while admiring the archaeological chamber tomb but as no drink was offered and the table was occupied by one solitary man with his red wine we decided to leave.

And some not so old

There are chateaus galore in the Loire Valley – and we were spoilt for choice. Some we drove past (eg Saumur, Montessarau), and some we walked around (eg Villandry) and others we went inside (eg Amboise and Chenoceau) ...

The walk arounds were all situated high above their local rivers and the two that probably grabbed our attention were Saumur (glorious blue sky day, with drained moat we could walk half around) and Montsoreau (overlooking the river Cher in the midst of a little village with more cave dwellings, lovely gardens and cobbled streets - a place to spend a lazy afternoon if we had one). The chateau at Montsoreau is described as a ‘forbidding battlemented wall’ with much of the chateau no longer standing but within the peaceful garden like surroundings it was hard to visualise the story of a jealous count, who forces his wife to lure her lover (the governor) to the chateau where he is murdered. The chateau was home to the count and countess but apparently the murder took place in another chateau across the river – presumably so that when the countess looked across the river she could no longer enjoy the view – or perhaps that is where they had their surreptitious meetings. It was also here I took my bee photo – which Harry described as fantastic – I say it was a bit of luck!!

Villandry was a bit more of a structured visit as we had to pay to visit the gardens – most of them were Italian style which always creates a sense of order and in this case symbolises the four types of love: tragic, adulterous, tender and passionate. That garden had lots of lime trees providing shade, a colourful vegetable garden planted with leeks, cabbages and beetroot with a few rose bushes around it which symbolised the monks tending their veges – I could just imagine them coming to life during a fairy tale evening. Amboise was our first visit to the interior of a French chateau with our first view from the other side of the Loire River. We found a car park fairly easily (no pay and display in France so far) and wandered through the markets and cafe strewn streets to the chateau. Here we found the little chapel which housed the tomb of Leonardo de Vinci and a statue of him in the garden. Although a lot of the chateau has been destroyed it still provided a magnificent presence above the town. Lots of royalty have owned or stayed there like Charles VIII and Francois I (responsible for the Italian influence in architecture and decor). As always, there seems to be a tragic story that sits with the building...In 1200 conspirators were killed and strung up from the castle along the town wall and from trees. This rather gory episode was the beginning of the downfall of the chateau and over time much of it was gradually dismantled (presumably in the hope that this would prevent another massacre). Some of the story was relived in the show we saw in the evening in the chateau grounds which was rather a fun event with many of the local community being involved. But before that we had dinner and visited a wine tasting in the local caverns (wine and cheese somehow found its way back to the car!).

Another day we wandered around Chenonceaux. This was a favourite of ours. It took us a while to get through the garden (colourful, imaginative and relaxing) and then to wander through the little farm yard up to the Chateau de Chenonceaux. This Renaissance chateau which ‘romantically stretches across the River Cher’ (quote from our trusty guidebook) was not too ostentatious - the rooms were filled with flowers from the garden. There were rather a large number of faded and tired tapestries (including some woven wall paper). We walked on some very old tiles that should have been protected a long time ago from the pounding feet of tourists and residents- but some near the skirting board were in fairly good nick. The chateau had a peaceful homely feel about it, probably as the decor and building was influenced by five women during its life. Catherine Briconnet supervised the construction of the chateau, while Diane de Poitiers created a formal garden and built the bridge over the River Cher. Catherine de Medicis reclaimed the chateau from Diane (who was Henri IIs mistress and couldn’t argue with the royal wife) and put the gallery over the bridge (which had a ball room the width of the river – great for novice ball room dancers – we could do our basic waltz steps all the way down it before having to practice our spin turn). Louise Dupin (wife of the local tax collector) saved the chateau during the French revolution, and Madame Pelouze restored the building in the 19^th century. There were no doubt a few other wives and mistresses dotting history but they didn’t get much of a mention.

And some things in the last century or so

Puy du Fou is where old finally meets new in a theme park set in the grounds of the Chateau (privately hidden behind trees). Here we spent the day (sometimes drinking iced tea or eating icecreams in the shade), watching shows and wandering medieval and 18^th century reconstructed villages. Fountains played, falcons and other birds of prey ‘danced their ballet in the sky’, and there were shows galore (Vikings attacking a village, a water show, the music of the times, the pageantry and romance of games). We enjoyed the day but both of us have reservations about using animals in shows rather than letting them live a more natural life.

When driving through the Loire Valley we did wonder what kept inhabitants employed as we haven’t seen much activity even in the farming community since we arrived. Our trip to the mushroom museum provided some insight. This industry conducted mainly in the dark in the limestone caves employs around 5000 people growing and harvesting mushrooms (dark to save money as workers have head lamps which makes employment akin to coal mining in my eyes). We found out lots of interesting info... they (whoever they is) think that there are 1.5 million mushroom types – although only about 75,000 been catalogued. We saw 250 of them in either static displays or growing in the compost. Lots are poisonous and lots aren’t but even after visiting the museum we are none the wiser about how to tell the difference. We are no different to the scientific world who are equally confused – unlike the rest of nature where bright colours can deter by being poisonous – or attract in relation to finding a partner – mushrooms are contrary – you can eat bright yellow, pink, brown mushrooms – just not all of them. My Mum always said ‘don’t eat mushrooms that grow under trees’ but I am not sure if that is enough advice over here to keep us healthy. So, we’ll leave the picking to the experts. Surprisingly in a wall of photos of poisonous mushrooms our little southern hemisphere islands appeared as being home to Champignon de Pagode.

In other caves were some miniature limestone carvings of chateaus, castles, villages and abbeys that lined the Loire Valley. If we needed tempting to visit more then this exhibition did it. In faint light we visited each of the towns and marvelled at the intricate work of these artists. Some were carved from blocks of limestone where others were carved directy into the cave walls. It was here that I learnt a little bit more about the symbolism in churches.

Country graveyards are usually located near a church – this is to signify that the dead and living will be reunited in the hope of the resurrection (and I thought it was for convenience).
Although the church bell marks the time of day and also calls the faithful to prayer it is also a musical instrument that sings to the glory of God which is why it is rung at the important events in ones’ life, baptism, communion, marriage and burial.
A church often has several steps – these invite people to prepare themselves as they enter the church.
Churches are tall which means that they can be seen from afar, but they also allow worshippers who are earth bound to have their aspirations can rise above the ground.
Churches are situated usually in the centre of the community although they may give the appearance of being apart or isolated – by being in the heart of the community they symbolise the meeting of the community with God.
Church windows are usually grouped in threes (I’ve started to look now) which refers to the Trinity.
The altar is made of stone signifying that Christ is the cornerstone on whom anyone can base their life.

On our way through Saumur Harry and Jim spied a brown sign Musee of Blindes (tanks). So, we took a trip. Margot and I took a quick walk through with the challenge of finding out how many colours tanks could have on them (how to keep us amused - brown, green, grey, white, tan, black) and then enjoyed reading our books while Jim and Harry wandered around for a bit longer looking at the wide range of tanks including German WW11 tanks, and a Merkava (an effective Israeli Main battle tank). Harry also found some military trucks and cars with right hand drive dating back to the 1930’s and we wondered, and still don’t know cos our internet access is a bit wobbly when France changed to left hand drive.

On the way to the airport we found Le Mans (guess who was driving the car). Not expecting to be allowed inside we drove up to find that we could attend a 24 hour race free of charge and no entry ticket. Yes the track would be filled with cycling races (and there was a kiwi team entered). At 12.00 the locals and tourists could ride the circuit for a two hour race and we saw children, elderly, serious cyclists and disabled arrive in bikes of all shapes and sizes for the event (last year there were 600 entrants all ready to cycle in the searing heat.

We also went to Tours and enjoyed the wander through the old part of town during early evening. This city is popular with students (who I hear come here to learn the purest French and I suspect enjoy the cafes and bars). We wandered through the 13^th century Cathedral and then eating crepes in the square surrounded by Tudor buildings surviving at various angles that were close to the slope of the Tower of Pisa.

During our holiday we did a little survey on the best places we visited. I did a pretty table with smiley faces but can't copy and paste it into the blog so here's a summary of our visits and votes out of four:
Deneze sous doue (sculptures) - 1
Angers (Harry and I didn’t visit as we had a ‘pool day’) - 2
Mushrooms - 1
Lime stone miniature villages - 2
Dolmens -1
Night Show at Amboise - 1
Chateau Chenonceaux - 2
Sipping wine in the caves at Amboise - 1
Puy de Fou - 2
Le Mans -1

Goodbye Bristol

2011-08-11T13:42:00.000-07:00

Our last week - what an emotional roller coaster (interview by telephone, planning for holiday and lots of farewell hugs). Saying good bye to everyone at work and lots of dinners out. We felt humbled and touched by our gifts and lovely messages from people. We have wonderful memories of our 4 years in Bristol and lots of friends to keep in contact with. We packed our bags and out the door - oops the handle of one suitcase broke - so we caught a bus down to Broadmead where I sat minding luggage while Harry went to find a bag shop (came back with a black bag, when there was a purple one on offer as well - I ask you!!). Threw the little one in the big new one and then off to the bus station and then to the airport where our first task was to repack our new black bag. Handed the old one into 'odd shaped bags' for a scan (wouldn't want to be blamed for a terrorist alert) and then found we were over weight by 6 kilos (£10 a every kilo) so we switched our heavy shoes into our hand luggage and we were sweet!! Big bag - not a lot of room for everyones luggage in the rental car. Harry thought that he could leave the bags behind as he really, really, really wanted to drive the latest model Ford Focus - but I thought clothes would come in handy during the holiday - and so he reluctantly wandered back to the rental car desk while I sat in the 25 degrees sun minding the bags (could be a new found occupation I think). The boot of the Renault Kangoo looked big enough and off we went to the hotel which we found surprisingly easily - Paris is always a place that confounds our best navigation skills. The hotel restaurant was closed (all of August - I thought it was peak tourist season) and we were told that 'its o.k. just 2 minutes away by car is 4 restaurants' - there was McDonalds, KFC, Buffalo (American Grill Bar) and another bar. Back to the hotel to get organised for our early start (Jim and Margot arrive at 7.20 am) only to find the shower is blocked - but that's o.k. our friendly hotel staff provided the tools! Took a while to have a shower - every minute we had to plunge.

Northampton for the last time and beyond....

2011-08-09T01:54:00.000-07:00

Saturday morning we cleaned the carpets and by early afternoon we had left them to dry and were driving to see Mike and Barbara in Northampton. It was a slow drive up (who suggested going through Oxford?) and the last long journey in our little yellow Saxo. Our car has taken us 52,000 miles in just over 4 years and it is no wonder we have grown fond of our little Pierre (yes we do give our cars names). It was great to have a final weekend with Mike and Barbara. We went for a walk along the canal to the lake in very summery weather (Harry hadn't bought his shorts this weekend which meant it would be warm). Had a lovely dinner and looked at photos from Istanbul and Marrakesh. It was just as warm the next day as we got ready to picnic in Stowe Gardens. Another interesting place - and thinking about it on our travels we have probably seen less than 1% of the interesting places in the UK. Stowe was created by a family 'richer than the king' they say. The Stowe mansion is now a school and the National Trust run the gardens which has many follies scattered around the lake, up the hills, and around the golf course. The school - which just happened to be the venue for a wedding (we gatecrashed some of the photos I suspect by walking across the background landscape) - is described on its site as "a wonderful school in the most sublime setting which celebrates youth rather than stifling it. Stowe embodies the English Enlightenment and its ethos continues to be shaped by the people who teach and learn here. We offer an inspiring environment for the education of boys and girls aged thirteen to eighteen in the firm belief that every one of them has the potential for excellence waiting to be unearthed and burnished – the jewel within". I couldn't find the fees on the net but I guess if I have to ask I just couldn't afford it. Students, new and old are called 'Stoics' and apparently they acquire 'skills that enable them to live happily, work successfully and thrive in their future lives'. I must admit it is set in a lovely place and if nature inspires learning like I believe it does there is some basis that kids who go to this school could do well. During our walk we negotiated a few holes (golf that is) and watched a few golfers hit their balls in to some fairly challenging bunkers and a fairly big lake (wonder if they dredge it and sell the balls occasionally - if not it surely must be fairly full considering the course was built in the early 1920's). Langley the designer had this to say about his course “though welcome and avant-garde in its mere existence at the time, bore little resemblance to orthodoxy of construction”. He recalled “the long trudge up the hill among the mole-hills to the Armoury” and “the attempt to hit balls illicitly into the slits of the Monument after leaving the 9th green: an obtuse, inverted pleasure, since the ball was lost if the shot succeeded, yet ever-tempting like forbidden fruit”. Sounds about as challenging as Karori Golf Course at home. We had a great picnic near the car park where some of us had a little doze and others watched more energetic folk walking amongst the grazing sheep. We're already planning to meet up somewhere - unfortunately half way is a bit further than 'somewhere around the Malverns'. We're taking a little friend from Northampton home - he's called Cobbler.

Everything has gone bed, tv, couch, Pierre, bikes, most of our stuff and the only thing to do is pack up our bags with everything that is lying on the bedroom floor. We've wined and dined with friends, had telephone job interviews, tried to set up postal redirection orders online, and we've probably forgotten about a hundred other things - but hey Thursday is coming up fast. Last week we went out for dinner with some of my work colleagues and just to get our own back for coming last in too many pub quizzes we did a NZ quiz. Some knew who Dan Carter and Gollom were but pictures of a pohutukawa tree, Kiri and a Takahe led to some fairly imaginative answers. We're out tomorrow night with Harry's workmates, been to Jamie Olivers restaurant with Colin and Tess, seen Chris, Glen and Ben for coffee, and having our last meal in the UK with Jane and David. Rebecca and Nylan came for the weekend and we walked the harbour and took photos of all the local gorillas posing around the place. So, lots of socialising in our last week. We've had a great time but it is time to move back...

Lake Buttermere

2011-08-02T12:02:00.000-07:00

The lake district is known for 'walking' and that is just what we did. Our first was a short sojourn of a couple of hours around the Lake (the day after a wedding is meant for nothing but a stroll). Pretty scenery.

A trip to the coast (to see what the beach side towns were like - say no more) and a wander around Cockermouth - home to the enormous flood in 2009. We strolled the town (bought some travel books to start to enjoy the thought of our upcoming holiday) and then went down Cockermouths memory lane. Some well known and, some not so well known people grew up in Cockermouth (perhaps there is something in all the fresh air and walking through countryside that inspires the brain, or maybe it was the Quaker background that many seemed to have been born into)..

Robinson Mitchell - the first person to open an auction mart
William Wordsworth - poet whom I wrote about in an earlier blog
Fearon Farrows - he catalogued over 300 stars and built the first astronomical observatory in the southern hemisphere (South Africa)
John Dalton - scientist who came up with Daltons Law and developed the modern atomic theory
Fletcher Christian - say no more.

The next day we climbed Haystacks - we did well going up - passed a family with young kids and a man that looked about 70 and managed to keep up with some others more our age. At the top we did some scrambling for the first time over here (hands and knees up rock faces, with no clear path - just someone further ahead leading the way). Quite challenging. At the top was some lovely scenery, tarns, lunch and the path downwards (which we didn't enjoy - shingle at a sharp gradient).

On the way back home, we had a quick stop in Shrewsbury to see Marianne, Steve and little James. I have a lovely photo of James but can't find it so will post it when I do!!

Rebecca and Nylans wedding day

2011-07-29T11:43:00.000-07:00

Thursday morning dawned, grey clouds but the rain had gone and so after a wander around the shops (mainly walking boots, walking clothes and walking sticks) we bought some shoes, lunched and went back to our digs to get dressed for the wedding. It was a nice ceremony with a stunning bridal party. The ceremony had subtle differences to the way things are done in NZ. Far more emphasis on the legal side of things with Rebecca and Nylan both having an individual pre wedding interview prior to the service and us keen amateur photographers not being able to take photos of them signing the register as it is a legal document. After the signing there is a 'pretend register and blank sheet of paper' which sign to get the photo. Over the meal and in the evening we enjoyed the company of family and friends and then danced the night away.

On our way to the Lake District

2011-07-28T11:26:00.000-07:00

We had been looking forward to this week for ages and finally it was here. Rebecca and Nylan's wedding combined with a few days off for a bit of R and R after so much cleaning, packing and organising. Reuben arrived on Tuesday afternoon and Harry took the afternoon off to show him the sights of Bristol (harbour, Clifton Suspension Bridge, Cabot Tower etc) and on Wednesday off we drove to the Lake District. It is a good distance away - about 5 hours with most of it motorway. As we got closer we detoured to take in some of the Lake District sights of Windermere and Ambleside (we did want to return there during the weekend but alas there was another airshow on - too much traffic - and yes Harry did decide a walk would be more fun than a country air show - no twisting of arms required!!) With a stop for an ice cream and to buy some of Sarah Nelsons gingerbread at Grasmere we explored the little town with many other tourists. It has a bit of a ski resort feel. But more about Sarah Nelson who made this gingerbread that Harry couldn't stop raving about (and may have trouble sharing). She was born in 1815 into a impoverished family with no Dad. At an early age she was put into service and became a cook and even after marriage and two kids she continued to wash and cook for the gentry in the area. When she was in her mid forties the family moved to ‘Gate Cottage’ (previously the village school where boys were sent to school for a penny a day but once education became compulsory in the 1600's the cottage was too small). Sarah began to make gingerbread under the eagle eye of a French chef. Tourists during this victorian age walked past, smelt it, saw Sarah in a white apron and saw her sitting out in her little yard selling the biscuit. Sarah became the ‘Baker and Confectioner of Church Cottage, Grasmere’. After her death the recipe passed to her great niece who sold it and soon this closely guarded secret was sold on to someone else. Apparently, over the years little has changed in this tiny shop - the school coat pegs are still in place, and so is the cupboard used to house the school slates. Just past the shop and around through the garden is a little church and cemetery. We wandered into the church which had a floor covered in rushes (its rushbearing season) which gave it an earthy and homely atmosphere. I didn't know anything about this custom - it is centuries old. Rushes are used to cover the floor and a festival is held around rush carts. There was rivalry between the supporters and builders of different carts which was often accompanied by brawls and drunken behaviour. The puritanical church people didn't like this and refused the rushbearers to be allowed into the churches which of course caused friction in the church...and on it goes. Along the path is a little garden and cemetery where William Wordsworth and many of his family are buried. He was born not far away in Cockermouth and spent most of his life in the Lake District. One of his wellknown poems was inspired by a walk in the district "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" in 1804. He and his sister walked around the woods and "When we were in the woods beyond Gowbarrow Park, we saw a few daffodils close to the water side. We fancied that the lake had floated the seed ashore and that the little colony had so sprung up. But as we went along there were more and more and at last under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a long belt of them along the shore, about the breadth of a country turnpike road. I never saw daffodils so beautiful they grew among the mossy stones about and about them, some rested their heads upon these stones as on a pillow for weariness and the rest tossed and reeled and danced and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the lake, they looked so gay ever dancing ever changing. This wind blew directly over the lake to them. There was here and there a little knot and a few stragglers a few yards higher up but they were so few as not to disturb the simplicity and unity and life of that one busy highway. We rested again and again. The Bays were stormy, and we heard the waves at different distances and in the middle of the water like the sea.

— Dorothy Wordsworth, The Grasmere Journal , Thursday, 15 April 1802

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
in such a jocund company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little thoughtwhat wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

It is summer and the daffodils are over but we can imagine what a picture brother and sister saw.

Onwards and upwards we drove to Lodore Falls. How lost we were as there was no cell phone reception!! No one else had arrived so we checked Reuben in and went to find our bed and breakfast - a nice homely place for our next four nights. Good morning serviettes, a smiling host, nice and clean room - what more could we want!! We caught up later over dinner at a local pub and met some of the other wedding guests.

Airshows

2011-07-27T12:34:00.000-07:00

In the last two weeks we have found 'freecycle' (bit like Trademe but it is free to a good home) where we advertised our tv, couch, bed and old camera and I had 39 emails from keen people within a day. By the end of the weekend Harry had said goodbye to the tv, couch, microwave oven and some other little things and the bed and camera also have found homes. Back to watching tv on the computer sitting in a not too comfortable chair (it is only for a few weeks I say). However, Freecycle seems to have a catch - I registered but it no longer recognises my registration details so I can't tell everyone the goods are taken - hence the emails keep coming - the administrator hasn't found the problem and hasn't cancelled the entries either!! In between all this we have managed to get to a few quiz nights 7th out of 12 last week (no thanks to me) and go out for dinner a few times - Chris and family, Andrew and Claire in Swansea. A little walk along the beach at Kewstoke on Sunday and then the RIAT airshow the following week.
We arrived at the airport at 7.45 (that's morning) and Harry took off for a seat on the flight line. I sat in the car for a couple of hours reading a book and willing the torrential rain to stop before putting on coat and leggings because nature called. Unfortunately, the weather had different ideas and the rain came down as I went search firstly for a loo and then for Harry. Honestly, there must have been a special combo on black umbrellas, grey jackets and dark blue fold up chairs. On spying that combination my eyes strayed to the shoes - brown loafers, pink gumboots, red trainers - not really Harry's sort of thing so I moved on. Grey trainers - worth a second look - good looking but a bit young - and not Harry. I wandered about 1.5 kilometres along the flight line, trying not too smile too much at the spectators hunched under their umbrellas, coats, small tents and wind breaks. Most looking decidedly dejected and one woman looked at me and said 'at least you look happy'. I made some comment to which she replied 'I imagine you are thinking that only the British would do this'. How did she know? I stopped for some noodles on the way and later for a coffee and then began the trek back searching for my other half. By this time the rain had stopped and the umbrellas were down giving me what I hoped would be a better view of the crowd. Alas more grey coats and grey heads were visible and with more people standing I could see less than before. And then I spied him standing by the flight line, in grey coat and how could I have forgotten about the blue sunhat (we are known for our kiwi optimism over here). That's about me for the day, read the newspaper (it managed to stay dry - unlike others who tried in vain to read wet newsprint), found a necklace in the craft store, wandered over to the band playing in the evening.
Now for Harry...Choices, choices, choices - shall we go on Saturday, or hang out for Sunday and hope that the weather will improve. Saturday was better than Sunday as the rain delayed the flying display only by a couple of hours and we did get to see the Vulcan, Battle of Britain Memorial Flight, Rafale, F16 and the Gripen. Great photo opportunities in the afternoon as the weather cleared and the sun came out.

Goodwood Festival of Speed and Henley Rowing Regatta

2011-07-11T12:10:00.000-07:00

It was all about transport and racing this weekend. Cars and canoes. The Goodwood Festival of Speed is the highlight for any motor car enthusiast and it was 6.00 in the morning when our little yellow Saxo took one car enthusiast and a sleepy passenger for a long drive south. We arrived to a reasonably full car park and walked into Goodwood with hundreds of others all dressed in shorts, teeshirts, sun hats and covered in sun screen ie weatherwise it was going to be a good day. I left Harry after working out where we would meet for lunch (I had left my cell phone back in Bristol, so instructions were by the statue at the end of the Red Arrow display) and went off to watch the motorised and human powered bikes do their thing. It was fairly impressive!! I then took some long walks around the race track (bit difficult to see without a stand ticket) and through the shops and up through the forest to the top of the track. Lots of noise and roof tops of cars whizzing by!! Spent some time sitting in the seat in deck chairs and talking to security guards on their lunch breaks...

And now the Goodwood Festival through Harry's eyes. Like a child in a candy shop - I didn't know which way to turn first. So many things to see and so many cars ranging from 1911 through to the most modern - all the super cars on the market today. Lots and lots and lots of motor racing cars from saloon cars to Le Mans prototypes to Formula 1. It was a century since the Indianapolis 500 was first raced and there were examples of all the racing cars raced during the years including Scott Dixon driving his 2010 Dalara Honda. The Goodwood Festival of Speed has become such a well known event thanks to Lord March owner of the Goodwood estate. Not surprisingly he is a petrol head and drove a 1978 turbine car that ran at Indianapolis. There is even a strip of bricks from the famous race at the start of the Goodwood race track.

We both had a great day - but were we in the same place??
The next day we weren't really sure what we would do but after some discussion Harry suggested we go off to see Henley on the way back to Bristol - the place well known for its rowing regattas. Little did we know that a regatta was on so we followed the yellow 'regatta' signs with a big P and after driving down some narrow country lanes we found a park (£5 for the first one we missed, £8 for the next which we stopped at and £20 if you want to park close by). It was picnic day beside the Thames - some like us were in shorts and sandals and munched on sandwiches. Others (in their old boy striped jackets and brightly coloured trousers and woman in outfits fit for the Queens garden party with shoes to match) munched on strawberries and champagne at picnic tables you could hire for £10 a day or under trees in the expansive car parks. Others with connections and the right dress had the privilege of sampling horderves in a marquee at the finish line. The River Thames was an array of little and not so little boats going up and down the course (regardless of whether a race was on or not), some with a brass bands playing and some with umpires and serious looking officials. Occasionally a race was run - but only 2 boats at a time which was a little bit boring for us especially since there was no way we could see the finish of the race (next time we'll just have to dress up) and we didn't know who to support. Quite a cultural experience!

Brownsea Island and Jurassic Walkway

2011-07-06T12:54:00.000-07:00

It must have been a bit of an eventless week - while eating a jacket potato for lunch one day I wondered 'What colour are carbohydrates?' I pondered this for a while even though I know even if the little things aren't white everything bad for you is a carbo and diets say 'stay off white foods' which are pretty hard to resist in my opinion (more than chocolate - but Harry would disagree). Then I wondered when everyone said that the weather on Sunday would be 30+ what on earth would we talk about if the weather was consistently nice blue sky, windless and warm every day!! Saturday dawned and we were up and on our way to Brownsea Island - a National Trust property in the Poole Harbour - and one of the few homes to the endangered red squirrel. We caught the little ferry across and wandered to a high point for lunch, enjoyed the sea views (though the photos would look so much better if the sky was blue - have you heard that before?) and the little squirrels came to say hello as we munched on our french bread. George IV visited here before he became king (probably had a bit more of a lavish lunch) and said "I had no idea there had been such a delightful spot in the whole of the kingdom". He should visit Kapiti Island (which incidentally when I searched on the web for Brownsea Island came up as another island to visit). We then wandered along the beach (lots of mud and orange rocks) and up the hill to where Lord Baden Powell had organised his first scout camp over 100 years ago. He was a Lieutenant General in the British Army and wrote the Scouting for Boys a year later - obviously inspired by the success of the first camp. Scouting is still very popular over here and there were at least 2 troops enjoying the island while we visited. Some were learning water skills, others reluctantly doing their community service by clearing away broken branches and some thinking about eating. The programme for the first experimental scouting camp went like this...
Day 1 - Prelimary - setting up camp and patrols and given duties.
Day 2 - Campaigning - hut and mat making, tying knows, lighting fires, cooking and boat management.
Day 3 - Observation - training the eyesight, tracking, memorising details and landmarks.
Day 4 - Woodcraft - learning to stalk, studying animals, birds, plants and stars.
Day 5 - Chivalry - honour and cougage, charity, thrift, loyalty, unselfishness and doing a good turn every day.
Day 6 - Saving life - first aid, resuce from fire, gas, drowning and runaway horses.
Day 7 - Patriotism - knowlege of geography, the British Empire, helpfulness and the duties of a good citizen.
Day 8 - Sports day - games and activites incorporating the previous days learnings.
The broken branches were caused by clearing of the undergrowth - the main food for the red squirrel is the little pinecone (you see them on the ground chewed like we would chew an apple - wide at the ends and narrow in the middle), and the trees do not seed and grow if there is too much undergrowth - so we were told. The view from the island across to Sandbanks was enticing so after the ferry trip we drove around the Millionaires Strip. Although the houses were large we decided that all those belonging to famous people (eg Madonna and Guy Ritchie) were hidden behind trees because we certainly didn't even get a glimpse of these castle like houses though they were bigger than the standard terraced housing we see so much here. Anyway, it is thanks to a rather eccentric lady who bought the island back in the 1920's that Brownsea Island did not go the same way as Sandbanks - Mary Bonham Christie or better known as "the Demon of Brownsea". She wanted the island to be a nature reserve - which in other words meant 'do nothing for 40 or so years'. And so the wilderness grew. She didn't like uninvited guests which included fisherman (they were tipped out of their boats when digging for worms in the mudflats), residents (she evicted the residents of St Mary's village - the fourth generation of local inhabitants) or day trippers who took the challenge to swim across the island and if courageous enough stayed the night and evaded capture. Two cute little stories from two children who's families were allowed to visit the island during the reign of Mary Christie....

"Thank you for the day. I like your beard. I like the one-legged chicken".

"We went to tea at the Castle and started with a fruit salad, which had been prepared days earlier and was covered with dust and dead insects.This was followed by a salad with brown-edged lettuce leaves and curled up stale bread and butter. There was deer in the kitchen, curtains in shreds, windows broken and live rats and mice on the table. Mrs Bonham Christie had the audacity to admonish me for not using my side plate correctly".

Our next stop was Swanage - a car ferry this time - to a very typical English seaside resort. We wandered around the coast and onto the 100 year old Victorian pier which has been renovated magnificently. This is the place where you can hire a deck chair for £2.50 a day, rent or own a little bathing shed (with net curtains - incidentally a bathing shed is on sale for £150,000 somewhere along the English coast - it has marble bench tops!!), go for a dip in the very cold sea, wander the sandy beach (not rocky), view the white cliffs from afar, moor your fairly expensive boat, enjoy some impressive graffiti and enjoy some reasonable fish and chips (where the cook apologised for the fish being 'upside down' in the polystyrene dish - we presume because the skin on our take away fillet was on the upside!! Oh for fish with no skin.).

A bit more driving along the peninsula and we came to Corfe Castle. Having been to Brownsea which inspired Enid Blyton to write the Famous Five on Kirrin Island we were now visiting the castle that inspired Kirrin Castle - these stories "epitomise the golden age of childhood and of English summers as we once knew them. The sun always shone whenever the Famous Five went on holiday"http://www.gingerpop.co.uk/We nearly didn't make it to the castle - too much walking on half a century legs had led to a bargain - car park near the castle entrance means we go in - no car park drive on to dinner and an early night. Surprisingly, a car park appeared only a few steps away and so we enjoyed the wander up the hill soon forgetting our aches and pains as we soaked in the history of more ruins. Situated high above the valley on the Purbeck hills there were lots of places to explore, windows to look out, crumbling walls to cautiously step around and steps to climb which provide a view of the town with the same name. Like many castles it was built in instalments over the centuries by the various royal families like Henry I, John, Henry III and Richard the Lionheart. There are some rather grim stories which makes me pleased I live in this day and age where we all have a right to our opinion and birthright ... a 13th century woman called Maud de Braose and her son William who annoyed King John of England were "walled alive" inside the castle dungeon, where without food and water they didn't last long. Eleanor of Brittany, sister of the murdered prince Arthur and heiress to England was imprisoned there for some years and so was Princess Margaret and her sister Isobel, daughters of King William I of Scotland. Elizabeth I sold the castle to her Lord Chancellor and it then changed hands a number of times and under went a number of sieges like most other castles during those many centuries of local and royal unrest.

Long summer evenings means lots of daylight to explore and so after driving through the quaint little village of Lulworth Cove (thatched cottages and gardens) we stopped for a cup of tea in the carpark and then headed off to explore. I don't think that Enid Blyton was inspired by this cove but we were. We wandered along the rocky shore, up the steep path (all fours were required for both the little and the big) to get a good view of the sea pounding the rock formations. This is one of the Jurassic walkway and this time I hadn't really done my homework - around the other way were fossilised trees in the cliffs - a missed opportunity.

The promised 30 degree day arrived (it reached about 25 at moments) and after eating our 'hotel breakfast' (delivered on a tray to our room - 1 small fruit juice, 1 bruised banana, 1 apple, 1 croissant with butter and jam - we shouldn't complain cos we had a very nice Thai meal the night before in the hotel restaurant - perhaps our expectations had been raised a bit) we drove around Weymouth and Portland. Driving to the top of Portland hill, we didn't hold out much hope because the sun was clearly masked by a low lying fog - we entertained ourselves by walking briskly up the hill, taking photos of the mist and looking through the telescope in the hoping of seeing something - but alas no. The fog didn't seem to lift around this area and was still over the peninsula when we had been around a water garden (to be missed if you are short of time - but it seemed the place to take your elderly parents for a wander on a Sunday afternoon) and found Chesil Beach (an interesting long, highly piled rocks which separates the sea and a shallower inlet) - this is the place to try your hand at catching mackerel (which were running this weekend said the local rag, but no one seemed to be telling the fish). It was great - walking on rocks was like running another marathon - and so on the way back we found an overgrown path full of corn which we sang our way through to the amusement of others tackling the pebbly path on the other side of the corn.

There's a bright golden haze on the meadow,
There's a bright golden haze on the meadow,
The corn is as high as an elephant's eye,
An' it looks like its climbin' clear up to the sky.

Oh what a beautiful morning,
Oh what a beautiful day,
I've got a wonderful feeling,
Everything's going my way.

And then it was on to a sandy beach for some rest and recreation before heading back to Bristol (still too cold for a swim though!).

Badgers

2011-06-28T10:45:00.000-07:00

The week was all about work and dancing and friends coming for dinner (Chris on Friday night and Jane and David on Sunday). Our culinary skills were in action once again! Our treat was a trip to see badgers in their natural environment on Saturday evening. We drove down Tiverton way planning to go for a pub meal only to find that in this part of Devon pubs don't really exist and so we settled for a fish and chip meal at Morrisons (supermarket) which was on a par with what you get from a motorway services. We regretted not taking our normal picnic. We drove down many country lanes to the farm house and parked in a disused concrete pad - surrounded by barns - I suspect this was once a milking pad - but now tall grassy weeds grow through the cracked concrete and the barns were crumbling and disused (all except for the very end which was painted a bright yellow and called the "Visitors centre"). So we were in the right place. Pity we didn't take the camera but instructions were: no camera, quiet clothes, no talking, no kids, no perfume or aftershave, dark clothes, no talking etc etc. The badgers were great. While sitting quietly in the ground level hide we saw them munch through the peanuts left strategically by the window. They looked at us at times but realised we weren't going to harm them (they did run when they heard me cough - thankfully only twice). Certainly worth the visit.

Wimbledon

2011-06-21T11:39:00.000-07:00

On Saturday we went Womble hunting on Wimbledon Common. Harry dropped some litter in the hope of a little Womble not being able to resist temptation but by now they are used to those old tricks and Harry had to go back and pick up the tissue after we hid behind a bush for some 15 minutes waiting and hoping...even the thought of seeing Caramello in the grass didn't tempt them (or did it?). It seems the only way to see one is to go to the Glastonbury Music Festival where the Wombles are playing but unfortunately we missed the opportunity to buy a ticket.

Underground, overground, wombling free
The Wombles of Wimbledon Common are we
Making good use of the things that we find
Things that the everyday folks leave behind..

Instead we wandered down some paths lined with trees and high stinging nettle and found a lake, windmill museum and a traditional fair ground (with all the kiddies rides). We met Rebecca and Nylan on the way to the tennis stadium - closed but with an air of excitement as plans are well afoot for the start of Wimbledon. Walking around we saw lots of big houses, no cars parked on the streets (who would park their Audi, Merc, Rolls on the street when they can be displayed behind tall metal gates), and a gorse hedge (yes in Wimbledon!!). Sunday, turned from cold to colder and wet to wetter and so we drove to Pangbourne where our planned walk along the Thames turned into a mediocre lunch in a pub and a drive back to Bristol via a rainforest park which didn't have much in it except an agouti and some toucans. The pub was old and has some history...like it sat on the boundary between Berkshire and Oxfordshire and as each shire had different licencing laws the patrons and proprietor moved from one end of the pub to the other to extend their drinking time. Jerome K Jerome also finished his journey in three men in a boat at the pub on the river Thames. This sounds like my type of story, written in 1889 it is all about a travelling holiday of three friends on the Thames between Kingston and Oxford. It was a serious travel guide (well meant to be), but apparently with the anecdotes along the route is well known for its humour and sentimental stories - will look in some second hand book shops for it...

Burgh Island and Cotehele

2011-06-13T12:08:00.000-07:00

Saturday was one of those rare sunny and calm days and so we headed for the beach. The one that appealed to us was down Portsmouth way - Bigbury on Sea. Golden sand, rock pools and the tidal island of Burgh - which by low tide is accessible by a very wide strip of sand and by high tide by a sea tractor. We'd seen this island before, many moons ago in an Agatha Christie Poirot tv programme 'Evil under the Sun'. Art Deco hotel - sitting in the sun on the balcony drinking wine and eating a nice lunch - what more could we ask for? Isn't it funny how expectations so often don't match reality. The strip of sand and the sea tractor were there but the hotel (incidentally built on the ruins of an old monastery) looked like a monstrosity with more modern buildings planted right beside it. Not far away was a 14th century old pub which did look more in keeping with the environment. We marched over the sand (our expectations still quite high), up the hill to find the pub only served 'hotel guests and local regulars' (later we found round the other side a sign that said 'everyone was welcome') and that the hotel wasn't open to people who just wanted to visit for the day rather than pay £190 a night. We weren't allowed to picnic on the island and had to keep to paths. The hotel looked rather lonely and 'guestless'). We wandered up the hill munching on our french bread (in defiance not because we were hungry), enjoyed seeing the cliffs, a second world war observation post overlooking the clear water, some interesting rock formations (if you are into that sort of thing) and a few birds before settling down on a slip way (on the islands water edge) to eat our noodles, what was left of the bread and bananas. Then it was back up to the car to change into our togs (a Mr Bean act in the carpark was called for) and back for a nice walk along the river and to the sea for a swim. Well Harry did go for a dip, if you can call a 5 second up to the shoulders a dip, but I even chickened out of that when my ankles complained of frost bite before the water went above them. I settled for sitting in the sand making a pool large enough to be a spa bath for the tide to come in and wash away. Kids watched this rather mad pool building adult and then decided to join in so by the end of the day there were a little row of 'spa' baths along the sand. After settling into the hotel for the night we drove around and found a little pub to have dinner - which would have been really nice if it wasn't for the faint smell of silage and the flies it attracted.

The sunshine lasted but a day and the next day we visited Cotehele in the cloudy, cooler weather with the constant threat of rain. Cotehele resulted in us spending about 5 hours on our feet, some of it standing while we admired the indoors of the late 1400's tudor house: lots of tapestries (hung to insulate the house - the result very dark); old furniture (some well restored bed canopies); china and armoury; a chapel clock installed in 1489 - never been moved - no pendulum and faceless so the only way to tell the time was listen for the chimes. The rest of the day was skipping with our umbrellas in an orchard and cottage garden, down the valley to the river Tamar, along the river to the little cafe, looking at the Shamrock (restored boat that used to carry goods up and down the river) and then up another valley to the mill (provides some hydro power to the national grid when there is enough water in the creek) and then back up the hill back to the car. Cotehele was the first house to be donated to the national trust to avoid death duties and set a precedent for many of the existing national trust estate.

Up Rugby way

2011-06-01T12:33:00.000-07:00

Last week Harry was late home (fixing the car for its warrant) and after cooking another luscious soup I had some time to get on to the web and sort out some activities for the weekend. It was a long weekend and so we had 3 days to enjoy ourselves. First stop was the Prescott Hill races where I did lots of people watching and Harry did the car watching thing and when it wasn't raining we enjoyed sitting or sleeping in the sun. We ate our soup with french bread and felt quite in keeping with the french them of the day described as a "celebration of French voiture design from veteran to the Veyron". There were men walking around yelling and giving away onions, some mimers, security guards dressed in gendarme gear and others in can can dresses. During lunch we watched 3 little boys play - they obviously knew each other - but we were fascinated how their personalities were so evident event at the age of about 3. One the energetic and mischievous leader, another the follower and a quiet little boy who earnestly told the others not to eat with their mouth full. Back to cars - the course is 1127 yards long, rises over 200 feet and has a few short straights some curves and at least one hairpin which is described as breath taking. Most cars made the circuit in less that 80 seconds with the fastest achieving it in about half of that.

Our next stop was something just as thrilling - the horse races in Stratford on Avon. Here we tested our gambling skills and came out 20 pence better off than when we went in (excluding the entrance fee and cup of coffee). By betting on horses that are at odds 250:1 we didn't have a good chance anyway, but when Northumberland refused to start and the jockey needed a helpful pull from the starter there wasn't much hope of reaping £253 for our £2 bet. So second to last wasn't too bad for old Northumberland in the novice race (the commentator mentioned at each jump that he didn't take that it tidily and we were waiting for the jockey to be planted on the ground and the horse to finish the race riderless). I've read a few John Francombe and Dick Francis books and so enjoyed seeing the local bookies in action and competing for our few pounds by changing the odds - all very sophisticated linked up to the web. Also there were no starting gates - the horses start by going round in circles in a bunch - a bit like the Americas Cup where the yachts have to get to the start line at the right time. Anyway, just to let you know we went to a prestigous race course here in the words of some 1769 writer:

"The Course upon this most beautiful Meadow (allowed to be one of the finest in the Kingdom) has been altered and made greatly more convenient and agreeable both for Horses and Spectators. Indeed, there was very little Occasion for Art where Nature has been so lavish of her Bounties; the Stream of the Surrounding Avon, the verdant lawns, and the rising Hills and Woods form a Scene too delicious for Description."

More on the transport theme was planned for Monday - but the weather put paid to the transport show at Radley House with most exhibitors not turning up or leaving early. But I did find my dream camper van before we had a walk around the sculpture garden and through the house - decorated in the Palladian style. The house was designed by Robert Hooke in 1680 and it did have some interesting features and furniture we hadn't seen before - chairs painted black in rememberance of Nelson - a two seater lounger with a little circle table for tea in the middle. The garden around the back framed the house well in all my favourite colours pinks, purples and whites - mainly lavendar and roses.

http://www.ragleyhall.com/housestate.html

We also had a sojourn around the Yorkshire Sculpture Park- again in not particularly brilliant weather - Hazzy lost his sense of humour when it started to rain and we were eating noodles on a park bench with our fingers and car keys (we had forgotten our forks) but he soon cheered up when I said 'Look there are more sculptures to see'. We were actually quite impressed with this park - which had both indoor and outdoor displays. We could see lots of sculptures by famous people (actually we had not really heard of them before this weekend but they are famous!). Jaume Plensa who is about our age hails from Barcelona and certainly has a knack for capturing the imagination (none of this stuff with a couple of planks of wood, or misshapen human bodies). A quote from him

"A city is a living body, a geography of transformation, a pile of particular reference points, unique in each case. There are no two identical cities; however a common denominator makes them familiar and recognisable: anonymity....the relinquishment of intimacy (personal freedom) in favour of anonymity (uniform) has left a deep mark on art in public places."

There were also some sculptures by Dame Barbara Hepworth who died in 1975. Although her art had less visual resemblance to something we actually know we enjoyed it just as much.

We went to a really nice restaurant on the way back, near Harvington, which I doubt we would ever be able to find again. Had a vegetable tandoori masala - and have now found a recipe which looks similar so will need to give it a go as it was so yummy.