From Sheep Station to Dream House - New Zealand
Greetings from Wanaka, New Zealand! We are told that the name of this town, correctly pronounced, rhymes with “Monica.” Easy enough for all of the Courtney Cox fans out there.
This morning we were still at Mt. Nicholas sheep station. Our terrific hosts, Bruce and Adrienne, watched the kids again while India and I went for another spectacularly scenic run. I’m running out of adjectives to describe how beautiful this part of the world is.
After breakfast (pears that Tallulah helped Adrienne pick from the orchard, skin, and poach), Bruce led us on a short, sharp hike up a hill near the farm house.
The movie “Water Horse” was largely filmed at the Mt. Nicholas sheep station, with Lake Wakatipu masquerading as Scotland’s Loch Ness. It fooled me, for sure. In the movie, the all-important artillery gun was emplaced on a steep hill overlooking the lake. This was the same hill that we climbed this morning. Knowing the location, it was easy to remember the visuals from the many scenes in the movie shot on that hilltop. Actually standing there was a little like seeing a minor celebrity at a coffee shop in New York.
From the hilltop, we could see 40 kilometers west down the lake, to the glacier-covered mountains. Looking the other direction, we could see sheep and horses and domesticated deer grazing far below us in their separate pastures (or paddocks, as they seem to be called in New Zealand). From far off in the woods, we could hear wapiti (big elk-like deer) screeching out their high-pitched mating cries. We stood in the sunshine, reveling in the glory of it all.
We were sad to say goodbye to Bruce and Adrienne, who have been wonderful hosts and companions for the last few days. Tallulah and Adrienne seemed to have forged a particular bond, feeding the chickens, brushing the cats, tending the garden, and playing with the puppies. Lu was very sad that we were not “staying for six more days.”
Just before we left, for some reason (probably Zola’s unceasing questions about war) we started talking about ANZAC, the Allied force made up of Australians and New Zealanders in both world wars. Both Adrienne’s father and Bruce’s father had fought with ANZAC in World War 2, and both had been prisoners of war. Bruce’s father was imprisoned in Austria for five years. Neither father ever discussed his war experiences in the presence of his children.
Coping in strong silence is a central feature of New Zealand masculinity. It may explain why the men generally seem a little taciturn, or at least reserved. The second-hand war stories definitely reminded me how spoiled and fortunate I have been in my own life.
During the steamship ride back across the lake to Queenstown, Zola suddenly became very upset. He and I walked up to the bow together, thinking an “I’m the King of the World” moment would cheer him up. He told me he is tired of traveling, tired of always packing and unpacking, tired of saying goodbye. He said he wants us to put him on a flight to Nashville, where he can eat his Gramae’s chocolate cake, and spend time with his cousins. Eventually he stopped crying, and was OK again. India and I have to ask ourselves, is this trip, this lifestyle consistent with responsible parenting?
After collecting our rental car near the dock in Queenstown, and treating the kids to Nutella crepes from the Hungarian crepe stand, we bid a fond farewell to Queenstown. A few days ago, I suggested that you could have a 2-week vacation in Queenstown, and do two different adventure sports each day for the whole holiday. For fun, we made a list as we ate our crepes, and came up with 28 different activities in less than five minutes. It is an amazing place.
On the way to Wanaka, we stopped at Shotover Canyon, so that Zola and I could do our second jet boat trip. After the initial trip a few days ago, our expectations were very high. On this excursion, we had a driver nicknamed “Chopper,” because he is a former helicopter pilot. One of his colleagues told us, in a friendly way, that Chopper is “a bit loose in the head.”
Chopper gave us quite a ride, scrabbling over the riverbed stones in shallow water a couple of times (a terrible noise), and actually clipping the canyon wall at speed once with the side of the boat. When he wanted to stay stationary for a few minutes, Chopper just drove the boat up onto whatever rocks were nearby, reversing out when he wanted to move again. My sense is that Chopper is tough on the maintenance budgets and the insurance premiums.
The 90-minute drive to Wanaka took us up over the Crown range of mountains: steep and twisty roads. Queenstown to Wanaka would be an amazing bicycle ride. We arrived at the house we have rented just before sunset. As we pulled into the driveway, India immediately said, “This is the house I have been looking for. In San Diego, in the plans for our house in the Beaverkill, in Cape Town. This is the place.”
Her dream house is a long single story, made of polished concrete, aluminum, and floor-to-ceiling glass, combined in simple, clean lines. The glass walls slide back to open the house completely to the outdoors. From every room, the view out over the mountains is amazing. It really is amazing to look at, and over the next few days we will find out how comfortable it is to live in. The alpacas in the neighboring field seem friendly enough, and the west-facing lawn sculpture made for some very artistic sunset shots.
Welcome to Wanaka!
coco said,
March 17, 2009 @ 1:18 pm
love this. oooh nutella. i can now eat w/o insulin shot! ha. got your card yesterday on my bday. still in hospital, possibly home tomorrow. bring zola and tallulah to see me…i have a killer choc cake! i love this
Peter said,
March 19, 2009 @ 3:28 am
Glad you are at home. We will have a chocolate cake in your honor.