Change In Plans

ZOLA DOING THE HAKA

Greetings from Russell, New Zealand!  Russell is at the edge of the Bay of Islands, near the north end of the North Island (in the district of Northlands).  It was New Zealand’s first capital as a British colony.

On the afternoon of Easter Sunday, we went for a longish walk along Lake Taupo.  Taupo is beautiful, but the family consensus is that Queenstown and Wanaka are more scenic.  We will break the news to the Taupo authorities gently.

On Sunday evening, we took Ginny to a traditional Maori dinner (hanki) and cultural evening.  Superficially, it was similar to the Maori evening we had at the zoo in Christchurch.  That seems like months ago.  We have been in New Zealand for a long time.  

The major differences were the size of the group (about 100 people in Taupo vs. 20 in Christchurch), and the church-dinner authenticity of the Taupo food.  Also, the long walk through the Maori village in Taupo was in a very active geothermal area.  There was sulfurous steam blowing everywhere, and bubbling mud just off the path.  Very dramatic.

The best part of the evening was when Zola and I got to get up and learn the haka, the traditional Maori war dance.  We’ve seen it a thousand times (mostly by the New Zealand rugby team, before matches), and we had a chance to try it down in Christchurch.  In Taupo, Zola came into his own as a Maori warrior.  Given a chance, I think he would have stayed with the Maori, gotten the tattoos, the whole thing.

On Monday morning, India and I went for our first run together since I got back from Switzerland.  She crushed me like a corpulent bug, and left me, literally, gasping for air on a steep hillside.  Maybe the Haute Route didn’t transform me into a superhero after all.

On our way to dropping her at the airport, we enticed Ginny into one more ridiculous Kiwi quasi-adventure: the cross-country Segway ride.  I had never been on a Segway before: it is harder than it looks.  I felt like the machine was sort of fighting me the entire time, leaning or turning away from the direction I wanted to go.

LOOK OUT!

Zola and I had a head-on collision, which could have been bad, but we were both OK.  It was entirely my fault.  In the U.S., the Segway owners would have had a fit, but the nice Kiwi lady helped us back on, reset the machines, and sent us on our way.

We dropped Ginny at the airport in Taupo.  She is going to Sydney for a few days (probably happy to be on her own), and then flying back from Auckland to Los Angeles with us on Friday.  She has been great company.

For reasons that seemed sensible at the time, we decided to drive the 550 kilometers from Taupo to Russell, rather than taking two flights.  To be honest, India and I like being in the car together, and imposed the decision on the kids.  It also gave us an opportunity to see more of the country.

We had been told that the last ferry from Opua to Russell (which avoids a two-hour detour) left at 7:30 pm, so we felt a lot of time pressure as we drove.  The 250 kilometers from Taupo to Auckland was brutally slow: lots of city people returning from the long weekend.  We listened to national traffic reports on the radio news, and realized that we were sitting in a succession of newsworthy jams.  There was some weird consolation in that, but we were still very concerned about making the ferry.

North of Auckland, the traffic cleared, and we were able to cover the last 300 kilometers in two and a half hours.  The kids were great in the car, although we had to listen to the Taylor Swift album six or seven times in a row. Also, Zola lost yet another tooth while we drove.  He is on the verge of bankrupting the tooth fairy.

As we boarded the ferry in Opua, we saw a big sign reading “Last Ferry Departs 10 pm,” so our rush was for nothing.  Maybe we would have stopped for dinner, if we had known.

On the Russell side, we quickly found our rented house, called “Eagles Spirit.” It is part of a small vacation rental community called “Eagles Nest.”

New Zealand’s culture seems resolutely anti-glamour, anti-pretension, anti-slick.  In a welcome change from most of our other New Zealand accommodation, Eagles Nest defies these cultural norms spectacularly.

We were greeted by Eagles Nest’s manager, Callum, with two glasses of Laurent-Perrier champagne.  He said, “How else should honored guests be greeted after a long journey?”

With obvious pleasure, Callum demonstrated all of the high-tech features of the house: louvered terrace roof, automatic pool cover, Bose sound system, plasma TV.  He talked about the personal trainer, dine-in chef options, and other amenities.  After weeks of low-information, do-it-yourself, New Zealand, this was all quite amazing.  The view from all of the rooms out over the Bay of Islands is also just spectacular.

HAPPY EASTER!

We have four days here to take it easy, appreciate the scenic beauty, and gear up for the long trip back to New York.  We know where we will be for the next few weeks, but haven’t come to any decisions on our longer-term plans.  

We also haven’t really started to try and summarize our experiences in New Zealand and Australia, much less to really think about the overall experience of traveling together for a year.

At this point, I think we are a little bit in denial that the end is coming.  Zola is counting the days, practically the hours, because he really wants to be back in the U.S.   Strangely, though, he is leading the chorus for “let’s move to Cape Town after the summer.”  India and I are just assuming that the adventure will continue, perhaps in different forms for a while.