Doug’s two-wheel epilogue

Chad, one of the three Aussies I cycle-toured Canada with in 2007, drove the 900 km from Brisbane to Sydney to pick Pat and me up and take us to the airport, where Pat took the flight to San Francisco. Chad and I continued to Canberra (another 300 km – tip o’ the hat to Chad for doing that huge distance) to link up with Tony and his friend John for a two-day bike ride into the dry and rolling country surrounding the Australian Capital Territory (ACT).

Our destination was Goulburn (pronounced “Gull-bun”). Chad and I, not having ridden long distances for some time, had a bit of a struggle on some of the uphills to start with, but we managed to keep up once our legs got used to it. For a while we rode on the shoulder of the divided highway, which for me took some adjustment, but we soon found quiet country roads where we could admire the golden hills dotted with gum trees and populated by all manner of wildlife, including a kangaroo who hopped across the road in front of us.

After the requisite stops to adjust equipment, have refreshments and meet our biological needs, we arrived in Goulburn with the odometer clicking on 120 km. We had afternoon tea at The Green Grocers, a unique store that features fresh fruit and veg, a deli counter…and a bike shop. Then it was off to answer the siren call of the motel showers to wash off the effects of more than six hours on the road.

The city has some charming Victorian-era buildings, including the impressive courthouse (pictured) and Saint Saviour’s Anglican cathedral. We dined downtown at the Paragon Café, where the huge meals they serve defeated all but John. Sleep that night came swiftly.

The next morning was chilly, and we fuelled up at The Green Grocers with eggs, yogurt and coffee while anxiously watching to see if the headwind we bucked yesterday would become a tailwind for our return trip. For once the wind gods were with us, and we sailed right along.

On the way out of town we encountered the giant merino sheep, a statue symbolizing a major industry in the area. Unfortunately, the wool washing station in town had closed, and the effects of the prolonged drought are putting Goulburn through some tough economic times.

Including bio and refreshment breaks – one at a charming rural coffee stop at Lake Bathurst – we arrived back in Canberra by early afternoon. Odometer reading: 113 km.

Next morning Chad drove me to the airport in Sydney where I bade farewell to the Antipodes and headed for San Francisco and my lady love.

So long, Australia, we'll be back!

Sydney: last three days

March 5 to 7

Mystery minute: The photo of the porta-potties in an earlier entry? Temporary loos set out by the Sydney train station while they fixed their permanent ones.

And, before we forget again, Pat's mom just turned 92 a few days ago. Way to go Mom!

How better to follow the opera than with a small-group bus tour of the Blue Mountains west of Sydney? In fact a series of sandstone escarpments, the Blue Mountains get their name from the blue haze created when oil droplets from gum trees combine with dust particles in the air. Our guide Scott provided skilful driving through some rugged country and a ton of information about this huge area, a national park about the size of Belgium. Highlights included a close and personal meeting with some kangaroos, a hike to a breathtaking cliff-top outlook (no guard rails, 900-metre drop!), and a bowl of delicious and spicy potato wedges at a cosy restaurant in the colourful village of Leura.



On Friday (Mar 6) we took the city ferry to Manly, on the northern arm of the mouth of Sydney Harbour. Next to Bondi, this is the place to be, especially if you’re young and buff – and in the case of some female sun worshippers, topless (sorry, no photos). Again we were amazed at the number of people with deep tans, in spite of all the publicity about the dangers of skin cancer under the brutal Australian sun. Hard to break that myth of the “healthy tan”, maybe. Pat, water lover that she is, took the plunge in three different places: the calm Shelley Bay end of Manly, the salt water pool nearby, and the surf on the main beach. Lots of surfers and beach volleyballers were out under the bright sky. One thing Manly has that Bondi Beach doesn’t? Shade. Doug the landlubber took refuge under huge palms along the beach promenade, so everyone was happy.





Treat tip: the Royal Copenhagen ice cream is to die for.

Saturday morning we had coffee with Laura Morrison, an ex-pat Canadian and daughter of Lynne Current. Laura has returned to Sydney, where she spent about five years before a two-year pause and reflect back in Canada. She has decided Oz is where she wants to work and live, and should be able to secure Australian citizenship over the next couple of years. After breakfast, Laura kindly dropped us off at the market in The Rocks area where we poked through the stalls and enjoyed a musical interlude by a group of local musicians jamming under a shade umbrella.

Then it was back to the hotel to re-organize our bags in preparation for Pat flying out to San Francisco on Sunday, and for Doug taking off back to Canberra for a two-day bike tour with two of the three Aussies he shared the road with on the Tour du Canada in 2007. Then he hops a flight to SF to rejoin Pat and see some long-neglected in-laws.

Our last evening in Sydney was spent taking in the preparations for the Mardi Gras parade, part of the gay and lesbian celebration that takes over Sydney for about three weeks. The parade had about 35 floats representing every region in Australia and a whack of countries around the world. We didn’t stay for the main event (not big on standing for almost four hours on an empty stomach), but it did draw its usual crowd of 500,000 onlookers. The party went on until well after sunrise, according to the news reports.

So…..except for a postscript of Doug’s cycle adventure, this is IT for Macs Down Under. We hope you have enjoyed the Blog because we have sure enjoyed the experience. We fully expect Ottawa to be in the full bloom of SPRING when we return! Not?

Sydney, days one to three

March 2 to 4, 2009

What a wonderful city! What a wonderful harbour!! After settling in at our hotel, the new Ibis near Darling Harbour, we boarded one of the London-like double-decker buses
for a general overview of downtown. Well, let us tell you there were a lot of ‘Oh, my gods!’ going on as we rounded various corners. Don’t know how many pictures we have taken of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge but everyone is going to be really tired of them. This is a busy, bustling city with a combination of older Victorian type architecture sitting among the newer skyscrapers. On all sides weaving in and out is the harbour with ferries and cruise ships running here and there.

March 3 we got up early and grabbed the double-decker again, this time for a trip out to Bondi Beach, one of the most popular swimming and surfing beaches in the area – check that: the world. The fact that a surfer had been bitten last week by a – ahem – shark didn’t seem to faze anyone because it was well used. There are markers, guards ready and airplanes patrolling. After Bondi (pronounced “Bond-eye”) we walked through Hyde Park and into the Queen Victoria Building, one of the most incredible shopping concourses you can imagine. Built in the late 1800s, also as a shopping centre, it was almost demolished in the 1920s. Someone with courage and foresight prevented this happening, and today the QVB is an eye-popping mass of shops and eateries.

Still with energy to spare The Intrepid MacDonalds strode north and after a drink in Sydney’s oldest pub, took a tour of the Sydney Opera House. Wow! Designed by a Danish architect, the building cost well over $100 million and houses concert and opera auditoriums side by side with three theatres below. There is quite a bit of construction now since they are updating inside and putting in conveniences such as escalators. Until now anyone not able to climb the hundreds of steps has had to go in the stage door and be taken up by freight elevator.

Day three (March 4) began with a walk through the Royal Botanic Gardens to Mrs. McQuarrie’s chair, followed by a stroll around the bay back to the Opera House where we picked up our tickets to the production of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly before walking, yes walking, over the dizzyingly high Harbour Bridge, fondly called the Coathanger by locals, and travelling back by ferry from the North Shore.

Well, as for the opera, it was not only well-sung and well-acted, it was a sumptuous visual presentation, with simple but effective special effects such as floating candles in a shallow pool surrounding the central stage. Imaginative scene changes and clever lighting made the tragic story of Cio-Cio San all the more powerful. There were more than a few tears shed at the end. Following the show we struggled to figure out the local bus system in order to get home at (for us) a late hour.

Are you tired yet? We are.

We're in Sydney!

Arrived by bus, and immediately checked out this impressive view. More later.

Canberra

Well, here we are in the National Capital of Australia staying with our friend Tony this time, another of Doug’s Aussie buds from the Tour du Canada. Like Terry and Kathleen in Melbourne, he is going all out to feed and entertain us while we are here. Sadly, friend Virginia is off and about working in Viet Nam, Thailand, India and Sri Lanka (poor thing!) while we visit.

Canberra is built around a huge artificial lake with the new Parliament built on a hill overlooking it. We visited and were impressed with the beautiful architecture and views. Tony works for the Canadian High Commission so we of course wrote our names in the book and took a tour.

Like Ottawa, galleries and museums abound! We have visited the National Library, National Museum, National Gallery and the new National Portrait Gallery, and the War Memorial and Museum, all worth hours of inspection. We have also been to daughter Sally’s place for dinner where we had “prawns (not shrimp) on the barbie” (finally!) and to the local stadium to watch the Brumbies rugby team take on, and unfortunately lose to, the Western Force from Perth.

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In addition to being fanatic sports fans, Australians are a coffee drinking nation; a pleasant pastime here is sitting at one of the many cafes overlooking the water.

Like Ottawa, Canberra has a great network of bike paths and a lot of our time has been spent on bikes. Tony’s friend Bridget loaned a town bike to Pat, and Doug has been tootling around on Tony’s second Bike-Friday (the kind you can take apart). An early morning ride here is quite pleasant as was one with friends around the lake and up the river. By noon, though, the sun is quite hot and one afternoon Pat felt sure she was on the road to heat stroke – see the post-ride “recovery” picture for your enjoyment.

Canberra sits in a valley half way between Melbourne and Sydney, a decision around 1900 to appease both cities. What someone once described as a “waste of a really nice sheep station” is really quite an interesting city.

Hello to Melbourne

February 23, 2009

When we left Alice Springs a few days ago, we were used to seeing vast stretches of empty, rust-coloured landscape. A couple of hours later our airliner set us down into a bustling city of several million people. At the airport to greet us was Terry, one of the three Aussies who rode with Doug on the cross-Canada cycle tour. Through roaring freeways and confusing back streets he drove us back to his house where we made the delightful acquaintance of Kathleen and their two boxers, Harvey and Lonnie.

Their home has been our base ever since. Well, it’s perhaps more a place to pause as Terry and Kathleen have taken us to see wonderful sights in and around Melbourne (quick lesson on the pronunciation of place names: Australians call it “Melbin”).

On our first full day we did a walking tour of the downtown, taking in such things as the striking Flinders Street railway station, the trendy Southbank area, and the impressive reading room of the public library. We took the free tram that circles the downtown, hopping on and off as we saw something of interest. One of the most curious was the cow in the tree, a sculpture near the waterfront in the city’s Docklands area. Don’t ask.

For the next few days we visited the gorgeous beaches and little towns along and near the Great Ocean Road west of the city. Many of the towns in the area are swollen with vacation homes, some quite precariously perched on the bluffs high above the rolling surf. Built in the Depression as a make-work project for soldiers returning from WWI service, the Great Ocean Road offers absolutely stunning coastlines and vistas. Small wonder it is among the premier tourist attractions in the country.

We popped into a local winery, Scotchman’s Hill, for a tasting of their products, trying to look knowledgeable about what we were doing. After that, we went to another winery for lunch, the blue waters in the bay below us, and the skyline of Melbourne off in the distance.

We pulled off a kind of coup on the trip when Pat spotted a koala in a tree beside the twisty road we were travelling. Terry doubled back and we got out to take pictures, only to discover about five or six more koalas in the tall eucalyptus trees. Terry and Kathleen were impressed, because this was their first ever sighting of koalas in the wild. Other creatures like kangaroos and wombats have eluded us, so we’ll fill that gap with a trip to the Melbourne zoo.

Tony, another crazy Aussie from Tour du Canada, and his partner Virginia joined us for a delightful Sunday cycle around the city on municipal recreational paths. Terry and Kathleen cut a fine figure on their Bike Friday tandem. The trip of course included lunch and people watching by the Yarra River. Whenever the ladies made shopping forays into shops and markets, the men kept watch over the bicycles and tried their best to look like fearless hunter-gatherers.

We have to say something about the serious bush fires that you have probably read about. Yesterday was a national day of mourning for the over 200 people killed in outlying towns. Because of the dry brush and eucalyptus trees and the isolation of some of the outlying towns, many people were trapped and could not get out in time. Sad.

The Outback

Rules for the Outback:
1) Make sure you take your fly net because those little suckers will love your face. We felt like Charlie Brown’s friend Pigpen.
2) Don’t take your mistress. We were sitting in the resort at Uluru (called by its Aboriginal name now instead of Ayers Rock) and a voice said hello Doug and Pat. It was Savoy friend Sue Hall and family. The world is a small place!

More answers to questions:
1) The water circles counter clockwise here when it goes down the drain.
2) Aussies don’t eat shrimp. It’s prawns down under….they do say barbee for barbecue.

We first visited the Olgas (Kata Tjuta in Aboriginal parlance), rock formations not too far from Uluru, went out and took the requisite walk. Those of you who have visited the American southwest and Bryce or Zion will understand the redness of the rocks here.

Uluru was quite amazing, one of the sites to see before you die. We watched it at sunset (they even served wine) and sunrise and then toured up close and personal to some of the caves of the area. Climbing the rock is allowed but unwelcome by Aboriginals who consider it sacred. While we were visiting, no one was allowed up on it because of the winds.

Our tour took us next to King’s Canyon to do some trekking up the canyon early in the morning. We chose the wussie walk along the canyon bed, mainly because we didn’t want to get up at 5am again. Distances here a long and the bus ride into Alice Springs took most of the day. The land is interesting with red earth, very blue skies and foreign to us shrubbery. They use controlled burning to keep fires from destroying large areas and it is amazing how quickly areas grow back.

Yes Emily, Kate, Jasmine and Zoe, Grandma and Grandpa (Papa) rode on camels, just so we could send you a picture. Mine was quite a nice old lady as camels go and enjoyed her head scratch.

Good Dye Mite – Christchurch to Uluru

First thing,

Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday dear Kate – 11 years old now
Happy Birthday to you.

Also a belated Happy Birthday to Jennifer

And, although it is not celebrated here……….Happy Valentine’s Day to all our Valentines!

Where were we?

We left Christchurch after first checking out vistas from above the city by taking the gondola up the mountain and then dropping Rhoda the Road Maggot at the airport. The previous night we happily grabbed back $50 each for our bikes, especially UBPofS (see previous entries).

Arrival in Cairns was late in the evening and we still broke out in a sweat! At this time of year you don’t want to do much physical exercise. Happily, the hotel air conditioning kicked in quickly. Up early to catch the bus to the Kuranda Scenic Rail, an antique-type train that took us up into the rainforest. After lethargically wandering around the village – we will no longer complain about Ottawa’s humidity index – we grabbed the Skyrail (another gondola) down over the rainforest to sea level. Amazing! After lunch we visited an Aboriginal cultural centre where we had various shows and demonstrations. Sir Douglas again found himself on stage dancing away…is there a theme here?

Yesterday was spent on the Great Barrier Reef snorkelling off a platform our boat motored/moored to for the day. Aside from having to wear what they call Stinger Suits (a defence against jellyfish in the area but which made us look like giant blue telly-tubbies), it was one of the most fantastic experiences we have had. The reef is incredibly beautiful with all sorts of fish darting here and there.

Today it was up early in bucketfuls of rain and into the interior where we sit waiting for our trip to the Kata Tjutas (the Olgas Gorge) and Ayers Rock, now called Uluru, its Aboriginal name. It is hot and clear here with the vibrant colours of the red earth. The only drawback is the flies that will get up your nose and mouth if you don’t wear nets around your face until sunset.

On to OZ

February 10, 2009

Time to say goodbye to New Zealand.

But first, apologies for no pictures. The computer connection in Christchurch is not cooperating.

Tomorrow we fly out to OZ and we are getting excited about the next phase of our journey. Before we go we need to tell you that New Zealand is a most wonderful country to visit. The people are open, helpful and friendly, the landscape is truly spectacular and changes more quickly than we ever imagined from seacoast to rainforest to alpine peaks and glaciers. We have especially enjoyed the South Island and would return in a minute were it not so far.

We took time visiting Dunedin and checking out the Scottish heritage they speak of. It’s true that in some places you would almost think you are in Scotland with the stone crofters cottages along the road. Cousins of those old Ottawa area stonemasons also emigrated to southern NZ. In fact, a lot of our immigration heritage was paralleled here with British subjects colonizing the area. The difference we have found is that the Maori seemed to have gotten a better break than our North American natives, and have a stronger presence in society. Very interesting history, the Maori colonization of NZ.

Forgot to mention – some time in Dunedin was spent visiting a walk-in clinic where Dr. Katherine Somebody-or-other gave me some antibiotics and prednisone (singing bass now) to clear up the ear infection so that I can fly tomorrow. More on that later!

We visited the globular Moeraki rocks on the coast north of Dunedin. Fascinating! They were formed millions of years ago, pushed up with the volcanic activity and then when the land eroded next to the shore, they just popped down on the beach.

On to Mount Cook, figuring that since we had been SO lucky about the weather that perhaps we wouldn’t see it at all and would have only another potentially beautiful view. But lo, there it was! We took too many pictures of course. The Tasman Glacier next door is apparently the largest one outside the Antarctic. Beautiful ride in and out.

On to Christchurch where we are now. Today was spent touring the city central after having ridden Doug’s trusty steed and my Ugly Bikey P of S into the city. UBPS decided to have numerous flat tires on me today but heh heh, we get to sell her back to some other poor fool this evening. Christchurch is an interesting town with the Avon River running through it and little boats punting along it. We took some time to go to the city museum where Pat tried out the penny farthing bicycle. We then attended the Evensong at the Christchurch Cathedral, directed by Brian Law, former director of the Ottawa Choral Society. We met him, had a handshake and gave him hello from early OCS members. He produced a beautiful sound with his boys’and men’s choir.

Now, on to OZ!

Into Middle Earth

February 7, 2009

Anyone who has watched The Lord of the Rings will probably recognize this scene. It is one of many on the South Island that could have – and probably did – serve as the backdrop for the Hobbits, Orcs and other creatures of Tolkien’s imagination brought to screen life in Peter Jackson’s film trilogy. In fact, on one of our excursions up and down the Dart River near Queenstown, guides were able to point out spots where LOTR scenes were shot – and where about three commercials a week are filmed. More later about the Dart River outing.

We have spent the last three days at Queenstown, the happening centre of NZ for anyone into outdoor, usually strenuous activities. Bungy jumping was invented here, along with a number of other crazy pursuits geared to people who are usually young and consider themselves immortal. Geezers like us are welcome, but our bodies pay for it.

First, a little aside. We forgot to mention our visit to Lake Matheson, which offers spectacular reflections of Mount Cook (Aoraki in Maori), NZ’s highest peak – that is, if it’s a clear day. It wasn’t, and so we were content with admiring what we like to call potentially beautiful views through a thick bank of mist and cloud. Doug claimed that the mountain had been taken away for cleaning, but few believed him.

Back to Queenstown. Our first activity was a horse trek in the nearby Hunter Valley, led by Chris, a young American freshly graduated from college and doing the fun job abroad thing before settling into a career. For two hours we walked, trotted and cantered (well, the horses did) through breathtaking terrain, up and down steep slopes, and through shallow streams. Pat’s horse Morgan could best be described as a trotter which her backside can attest to, while Doug’s horse Dudley insisted on snacking on every tuft of grass within reach instead of concentrating on the task at hand. Neither one of us had ridden for quite a few years, so we had a few tender bits on our bodies when the excursion was through. Again, though, it was worth every bone-shaking moment.

And so to our second day’s activity in Queenstown, an obligatory visit to Milford Sound, a gigantic glacial fjord on the west coast where about 6 metres of rain falls per year (yes, that’s 6,000 mm!). As other friends who visited Milford previously told us, they had to deal with heavy rain and mist. We expected no less. But what to our wondering eyes should appear but one of the sunniest and brightest days of the year, an occurrence that even had the tour boat crew marvelling. Result: spectacular views of sheer rock walls, cascades, fur seals lazing on the rocks, deep aqua waters against snow-capped peaks, all under a brilliant sun. The bus and boat tour from Queenstown and back took 13 hours, but every moment was worth it.

Finally, we signed up for a jet boat ride up and an inflatable canoe ride down the Dart River. What a blast! First the jet boat pilot, Bill, raced along at speeds in excess of 60 km per hour in water no more than 8 cm (3 in.) deep, slaloming around sand bars and monster-sized rocks, and then topping it off from time to time with a 360 pirouette that gave all of us a good soaking. Then it was onto shore to pump up the canoes (called funyaks) and paddle our way downstream on the cold waters of a glacier-fed river. The river was down quite a bit, so we often had to climb out and drag our crafts over gravelly bits, but it was a huge amount of fun. Of course we discovered muscles we had not used in some time. We should have received the award for steering the straightest course, two old Scouts plowing on while others spun here and there in the wind. We also made good friends with a denizen of NZ fauna, the sandfly. It is apparently a relative of the Canadian black fly, and it has the same talent at finding and biting any bit of skin not protected by insect repellent. Our trusty bottle of Muskol got a hefty workout.

We are now in a campground in Dunedin, the Edinburgh of the Antipodes where this afternoon we visited yellow-eyed penguin adolescents in a nature reserve, where local naturalists are struggling to save this endangered species. We now have our sights set on Christchurch where our NZ adventure will end and we will fly to the next chapters in Australia. The memories are accumulating fast.

From sea to ice

Well, here we are on the west side of the south island after driving through what is called Buller Gap, complete with a “swing bridge” (what we would call a rope bridge) over the chasm. I (Pat) have to confess I walked out as far as the drop off started and immediately turned back. Sir Douglas the Fearless continued on his swaying way across while I was content to stand with the sand flies and other fearful ladies and watch from afar. After that we visited Pancake Rocks where the limestone was laid down in thin layers was exposed in pancake-like stacks by the eroding action of the sea.

Before I go on, for our friend Carol, yes we have visited a winery, the Mission near Napier and bought some of their Syrah. Yum!

Some of you have asked about Rhoda the Road Maggot, our trusty VW 2004 6.6 metre camper van, complete with stick shift on the left. It is actually fairly easy to drive and handles well on the hills. We just put it in a lower gear and off and away! The benches inside make up into a bed at night. There is a gas stove and grill, a microwave, fridge and lots of storage space. We even have an office (front of the van). The table becomes part of the floor of the bed. Quite well planned out actually.

Yesterday we motored up toward Abel Tasman Park, up what is called Takaka Hill to Nguara Caves. We are not sure, but the twisty and steep road to the caves may have inspired the Maori to say “takaka” (roughly translated as “saintly defecation!”). During the cave visit our group arrived at the section called The Cathedral where the guide asked for a volunteer to sing to demonstrate the great acoustics. Silly question! Sir Douglas sang Libera me from Fauré’s Requiem. Being of the shy and retiring type, I shut up. After our slalom downhill we drove to an amazing beach where I immediately ran for a swim to ease the tension.

The south island is not crowded at all and the fact we are going in the opposite direction from most traffic helps. Campgrounds are plentiful and never full. We stay mainly in the Top 10 Holiday Parks, all of which are well equipped.

We’ve been getting our heads around the NZ accent. Mainly, they have different vowel sounds. I am Pet over here. Someone mentioned the other day ‘Oh, to be young and futt (fit)’. Car sounds like “cah”, although people in the south add a rolled R. Day is dye-e with more of a diphthong even than we use. You write with a pin and stick with a pen. And the other day we heard our first ‘Goo-dye-mite’.

Today was glacier day, a time to find out if the NZ variety match Columbia back home. We hiked up to both Franz Joseph and Fox glaciers and much preferred the latter. We stayed at the bottom of both, unlike others who take tours to walk on top of them. The Fox Glacier valley reminded me a bit of Yosemite in California with the huge glacial cliffs.

We are in total agreement that New Zealand is an amazingly beautiful country where the topography can change within minutes. The west coast is rainy and the rain forests are full of ferns and moss while at the same time you have towering mountains above you or are two minutes from a beach………and………there are fewer people who live in this country than in greater Toronto!

Napier to Picton via Wellington

January 30, 2009

Our stop in Napier was a treat. Heavily damaged by an earthquake in 1931, the city came back to life as an Art Deco showcase. It has been a popular tourist spot ever since, and justly so. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, although we did need some repairs on the loo in the camper van when it was blocked by a stray piece of plastic bag left in it by a previous user. We’re feeling flush again.

After lovely visits Jan 27 with long-lost family members (Doug’s mom’s cousin and husband in Waipukurau) and Jan 28 in Palmerston North with long-lost friends Morris and Christine whom we first met on a bus tour of Italy in 2004, we pointed Rhoda the Road Maggot south to the capital city of Wellington.

We booked into yet another superlative Top 10 Holiday Park a short drive from the ferry terminal. The next day we parked RRM in the terminal parking lot and hopped on our rusty steeds ( picture of Pat’s Ugly Bikey PofS included for your enjoyment) to visit the NZ capital.

First stop was the Te Papa museum, a striking building on the waterfront that holds a zillion exhibits and displays recounting the geological, natural and political history of ²The Shaky Isles² as this earthquake-prone nation is known. We marvelled at the navigational skills of the Maori, who crossed vast stretches of the Pacific to NZ with little more than the stars, the currents and water-filled coconut shells to steer them to their destination. We learned that some of the early Polynesians who became Maori might have descended from people in Southeast Asia, and that successive waves of immigrants from many areas of the South Pacific made their way here to escape overcrowding and food shortages in their homelands. We walked on a huge illuminated map of NZ that gave a satellite’s-eye view of this small but varied country. We chuckled at a video on NZ’s Golden Days over the last century or so. In short, Te Papa Tongarewa/Museum of New Zealand is a must-see for anyone visiting Wellington.

Other highlights of our Wellington visit were the ride up the cable car to the city’s fabulous Botanic Garden, from where we walked back down to the city along a well-marked path while snapping many shots of the lovely floral displays in every corner of the garden. At the bottom of the hill we made a quick visit to the NZ parliament, known as the beehive for obvious reasons, as you can see by this shot.

We then beetled back to the ferry terminal for the 6:15 p.m. sailing, which some had predicted would be rough because of the high winds. We both gobbled a couple of Gravol as a precaution but the three-hour crossing was very smooth. Our port of arrival was Picton, gateway to the South Island.

Today we took one of the mail boats, actually a high speed catamaran, doubling as a cruise boat from Picton harbour to a jumping-off point for the Queen Charlotte Track, a 67-km walking and mountain biking path that snakes along a long island through dense forest, along high ridges and past breathtaking vistas of the Queen Charlotte Sound. We did a 10-km segment and thoroughly enjoyed the experience: what could be better than tramping through some woods in bright, warm sunshine and ending up at a cosy and elegant country lodge for a cold beer before embarking for a sail back to our little home on wheels?

Auckland to Napier, NZ

January 27, 2009
Happy 85th birthday to Doug’s mom

Happy birthday as well to Pat's brother Bob!

Auckland to Napier

The Mac-0-Van or Rhoda the Road Maggot is chugging right along except for a clogged pipe in the loo which was fixed today in Napier. After leaving Auckland we travelled up to the Coromandel Peninsula east of the city, an area ignored by many tourists, visiting the Hot Water Beach where at low tide you can make a hole in the sand and soak in a hot tub. Problem with the one we felt was that it was too hot! We also took a bracing hike to beautiful Cathedral Cove, so named for the arches formed in the coastal rocks by the eroding action of the sea.

Miscellaneous I: No, NZ doesn’t have sheep on each hill, in fact it is the grape vine which is taking over a lot of former grazing pasture. We did see a sheep shearing demonstration in Rotorua and learned all the various breeds used for the wool or meat.
Rotorua area is mega geothermic with geysers, boiling mud pots in the middle of town, and sulphurous steam vents all over the place. It is also a cultural area for the Maori and we spent quite some time taking in a tour and cultural show presented by Maori performers. You will be happy to note that Doug was appointed Chief for our group and was able to go up on stage and rub noses with some fierce warriors.

Miscellaneous I: For our star gazing readers, no, you cannot see the North Star from NZ, you can see the Southern Cross. And Orion is high in the sky. For the amateur geologists, the hills are much more pointy than ours because they are a good deal younger. For the animal lovers, the seagulls are much prettier. For the fast food buffs, there are McDonalds and Burger Kings and Subways.

As for our bikes, Doug’s red beauty climbs pretty well, but Ugly Bikey Piece of Shit, as Pat now calls her, refuses to do more than clunk along. Going downhill is an adventure where she only hopes that the bike will not fall apart before she reaches the bottom. Pictures of our two-wheeled treasures will follow.

We are into a routine now, breakfast in the van, lunch of sandwiches on the road and then either dinner out or cooked in RRM. There is not much room, but thankfully we are both tidy creatures who keep things shipshape. The campgrounds are great, and the Top 10 Holiday Camp network is inexpensive with great facilities. We are meeting lots of people on the road: Brits, Australians and Kiwis mainly with a few Germans and such thrown in. Canadians here and there, hardly an American in sight. The large attractions receive the buses of tourists from the Orient.

Tomorrow it is on to visit Doug’s aunt and then stay with friends in Palmerston North before heading to Wellington and thence to the South Island. HolHh

We made it!

After about 26 hours in transit, during which we had an intimate association with all ends of O’Hare International Airport in Chicago, we arrived in Auckland to start our adventure. The only thing missing was one of Doug’s bags, which contained most of his clothes, but Air New Zealand came through big time and had the bag at our camper doorstep the next morning.

Speaking of the camper van, it’s a 6-metre minibus affectionately known by some local drivers as a ‘’road maggot’’ (fat, white and slow). Doug stalled it a few times as we were getting used to driving on the left side of the road while puzzling over road maps and finding ourselves imprisoned in massive freeway traffic jams. Needless to say we slept well on our arrival at the Takapuna Beach Holiday Camp, north of Auckland City.

Our campground is beautifully situated by the sea, and we have watched everything from sea kayaks to a monster cruise ship float by.

Our first full day of being tourists saw us take the bus and ferry to Auckland. In addition to going up the famous Sky Tower for an impressive view of the city and the harbour, we went to a local bicycle shop where we expected to pick up two clunkers to use for short trips around the places we will visit and avoid having to drive the camper van everywhere, and then sell them or give them away when we leave. Unfortunately the shop is a bit chaotic and we had to go back at the end of the day to collect and ride them about 20 km back to the campground. Doug fared well for the palty sum of 99 NZD but Pat not so affectionately calls hers Ugly Bikey, a rusted out hybrid that clinks and clanks and occasionally emits a sound akin to a wheeze.

We kept shopping to a minimum because we needed to carry everything back to camp on the bikes, but Doug did purchase a snazzy all-leather hat to keep the sun off. Pat had to walk ahead of him to keep the adoring ladies at bay.

We were awed by Auckland’s amazing harbour where we saw huge ocean going sailing yachts that you don’t normally see back home.

TRIVIA ANSWER: The Chicago airport is named after Butch O’Hare, an ace WWII fighter pilot.




Van comfortable, good thing Doug slim, even has an office (driving area)

Getting Excited About the Trip

As many of you know, Doug and I are off to New Zealand and Australia for two months to explore if the drains really DO go the other way, if you can still see the Northern Star, and if Aussies really say "shrimp on the barbee". Suitcases are on the beds, our housesitter Michael has all the particulars, and we pick up all the papers tomorrow.



Monday morning we pray for good weather to get us in and out of Chicago so we can fulfill a life-time dream of a 20 hour flight across the Pacific. From Sydney we fly to Auckland to pick up the camper van which we will drive through mountain passes on the other side of the road for three weeks. Doug says we will most likely drive to the far side of the camper van depot and drop unconscious for a few hours.



Thanks to Susan Palmai who encouraged us to try blogging! We hope you have fun following the adventures of MDU. Let the wild rumpus start!