Through My Lens - Abel Tasman National Park

New Zealand Diary - Relaxing At Abel Tasman National Park

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

The Abel Tasman National Park is full of hiking trails. Unfortunately there is no way to get to some of them by car and if you are a serious hiker, you take an aqua taxi to several different drop off/pick up points and hike sections of it at a time. This was all explained to us when we checked into the Villas. Really though, did we look like we were serious hikers? I think our host was disappointed that we only wanted to walk the Coastal Trail in and out for as long as we thought we could physically manage.

Our philosophy was that even though we would be going and coming over the same territory, we would be seeing it from a different direction and in a different light. With that in mind, we set out about 9 a.m. camera, lenses, water bottle, and iPhones in hand (sometimes the iPhone gets a great shot too).

We decide on a goal: Coquille Bay which according to the park sign is about a 50 minute walk. The trail is great. Wide enough for two and with boardwalks over marshy areas. While we find a few inclines, they are rather gentle and don’t require climbing over boulders so we’re happy.

Along the way we find several species of birds and try to find the beautiful song bird that has entranced us with its melody. The bird with an exclamation point on his head is a California quail. I guess if NZ can have Canadian geese which we've seen, why not California quail?

The very blue bird though that we see often and abounds in the field near our villa is the Pukeko and is native to New Zealand. Yes, it is really that blue and with a red beak and feet. They are characterized in lots of souvenirs in the shops.

Pretty vistas and views are around most every corner. We take a side trip on a nature trail which is a little more rugged and muddy but takes us along a gurgling stream that flows over large boulders and is quite picturesque.

All told, our walk takes the whole morning. We are proud of ourselves for walking so far and hope that it makes up for some of the overeating we’ve done. At the villa, I make ham and cheese sandwiches and since we don’t have any mustard, I use butter and strawberry jam on the bread. It turns out to be very tasty.

Our afternoon, we decide, should be spent doing laundry and just relaxing. We’ve been traveling for more than two weeks now and need a little break. This is the perfect place for it. We sit on a bench as we wait for the clothes to wash and dry and we read and write and check out some of what’s going on back home through the internet. The most noise we hear is the buzz of some giant bumble bees in the flowers near us and the occasional honking of the gaggle of geese down near the horses. Peaceful and restful. A great day any way you look at it.

Wordless Wednesday

New Zealand Diary - Ferry To The South Island

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

In his preparation for this trip, Bob has read that we need to be in line with our car for the Interislander Ferry by 7:15 a.m. for the 8:30 departure. When choosing a rental car we went the Kiwi way, with Apex Car Rental since they allow their cars to cross between the main islands and actually purchase your ticket ahead for you. It works out perfectly. As we sit in our car, nice and dry, we wonder what it would be like to have to board as a passenger without a car dragging our luggage behind us in the rain.

An attendant comes by and takes our voucher and when we pass her ticket booth a bit later, she hands us our ticket and voucher for the return trip in two weeks. Five lanes of cars, vans and small trucks converge into one on the direction of the ferry crew. A couple of large semis have already been loaded in the open area of the ferry and we drive past them as we circle around and park on deck five. There are at least three levels of car parking as far as we can tell. We are on the highest.

An attendant with a lovely smile points the way for us to enter the passenger area of the ferry. We climb several steps (an elevator is available as well) and find ourselves on Deck 7 where the captain and some crew members greet us. With the carpet and stairway, I almost imagine we are on a cruise ship.

There are several lounges on the three decks allotted for passengers. Some outside areas are available as well but in this weather (it is still rainy and windy) there won’t be many people outside. We find a lounge on Deck 8 at the front. The tables all near the windows are taken but we find one that still allows us to look out at the view. I can smell breakfast and many of the passengers are going into the little buffet area to get something to eat. We opt for some tea since we’ve already had breakfast. I get out my Surface and catch up on my New Zealand diary so that when we have internet, I’ll be ready with the posts.

Bob opts to explore and reports that there are several lounges that are private for tour groups and one for truck drivers. A couple of bars and another snack place are in the back along with a lounge where kids can watch the Disney Channel and of course the gift shop one level down. Soon we hear the announcement for the first movie to be shown. They are showing Superman and in another venue, Return To Earth. In NZ Dollars, adults are $12.50. We look at each other and shake our heads. We’re not here to watch movies although if you ride the ferry often, and/or don’t want to remember that you are on a boat, the movies would be a good distraction during the almost four hour trip.

The ferry ride is pleasant enough although with the rain that is lingering, there’s not a great view. It is still a bit dreary when we reach the channel of the South Island but the landscape is dramatic and interesting. I take a few pictures and hope for better weather on our return trip.

Some work done on my diary, a good card game of rummy, and we are almost to Picton. The ride has been about three and a half hours and passed pleasantly. We gather our things and explore the ferry a bit more before we hear the announcement that passengers with cars must go to their automobiles. We comply although I think Bob would have liked to watch them dock.

The unloading of cars takes a bit of time since we have to wait for those without cars to exit first. When that is done, it all goes quite quickly and Lady Garmon takes over the navigating again. I’m hungry. We had passed on the tea and scones they were selling from a traveling cart. Bob has planned a stop for lunch in the Green Lipped Mussel Capital of New Zealand, North Havelock.

After about a 45 minute drive, we arrive in North Havelock and find The Mussel Pot right in the center of town. The menu has mussels fixed in more ways than I ever imagined. We both opt for a pot of steamed mussels but Bob gets the creamy garlic and herb sauce and I go for the Thai green curry and coconut sauce. Thankfully mine is not extremely spicy. It is just perfect, the mussels large and tender and the accompanying bread for dipping is fresh and delicious. I could easily be lured back here again. Oh, and by the way, the shells of the mussels actually have a green color around the edge. I'm told they have a green beard too that gets shaved off in the preparation.

The weather is beginning to get a little better the farther we go along the coast of the Tasman Sea. By the time we arrive at the Abel Tasman Ocean View Villas, the sun is breaking through the clouds and giving us hope for a nice evening. Our studio suite is one half of a villa that sits up a hill a bit and looks out over pastureland and some mountains in the distance. We can’t help but think of our pastor’s daughter who loves horses as we watch about a dozen beautiful brown and black horses graze and frolic below us.

This is definitely the smallest town we have stayed in so far. There is one little store that is not even the size of a convenient store back home and doubles as the booking agent for activities in the area. We peruse the shelves and find spaghetti Bolognese in a can, some bread, and some lunch fixings for tomorrow. Microwaves are wonderful inventions. Our spaghetti warmed, we toast some bread, and enjoy our dinner with a view. Coffee and Tim Tams for dessert and we are happy campers. We take a short walk and return to a chilly room. We’d left the window open.

Even with the window closed, it doesn’t warm up much but Bob finds a heater that works more like a large hair dryer. It does the trick and makes the room comfortable. The nice electric blanket keeps us snug through the night and we awake the next morning to bright sunshine. Time for some serious exercise.

Books For The Road - Far From My Home, Never To Return

This is a little break from my New Zealand Diary postings. I wanted to share a book I finished while on the trip. It's called Far From My Home, Never To Return - A Polish Child's WWII Memoir by Nadia Seluga. It came to my attention through the Martin Sisters Publishing group to which I belong (In A Pickle is published through them.) I've been intrigued lately with some of the WWII memoirs and stories I"ve read and this is a fascinating one. We all know of the Holocaust and the interment and execution of Jews but this is the story of one family's interment by the Russians who invaded Poland at the start of the war and took thousands of Poles from their homes to relocate them in labor camps in Russia where they were to work for the Russian government.

Seluga's youth and native Polish language come through in the narrative. I suspect she relied heavily on her diary from the time. She tells of how her family was deported by the Soviets from their small village in Polesie, an area that used to be a part of Poland, and were forced into labor camps where they struggled to survive. Once they are freed from the Siberian labor camp, the struggle continues as they are relocated several times in Asia and Africa before finally going on to England.

It takes a little while to get used to Seluga's voice but once you do, you are transported to those years of struggle as seen through the eyes of her youth. The ingenuity and courage of her family are a fine example of how so many of that generation coped with the hardships the war placed on them. It is well worth your time to read whether on the road or at home. You will have a whole new appreciation for home and travel and those who inspire us.

Through My Lens - North Island, New Zealand

Through My Lens - The North Island of New Zealand

Wordless Wednesday

New Zealand Diary - A Rainy Windy Wellington

Monday, October 14, 2013

Rain and wind attack the car as we drive toward Wellington from Martinborough. While there are dark clouds in several directions, we find ourselves in a patch of sunny though rainy weather. A bright rainbow appears to our left and eventually becomes a full arch. We actually get close enough to the end of it to give thought to looking for a pot of gold. It disappears quickly as clouds darken the sky and we begin to climb into the mountains we need to cross. What lies ahead with this wind that has already proven it can shake the car like crazy?

Winding roads with signs that warn of “slippery when wet” and other signs that remind you that even in good weather the area can be windy only cause Bob to white knuckle the steering wheel and me to silently say a little prayer. We make it through and come out the other side to the same kind of weather. I had hoped it would change once we were over the mountains.

Wellington is the capital of New Zealand and is a large city like Auckland. It stretches out through a valley that we enter once we are through the mountains. These are the suburbs according to our map. It is a nice area to travel and the roads have straightened out a bit making it a little easier on the driver.

Lady Garmon leads us to our motel for the night which sits on a hill and overlooks the city. It would seem a nice view but not with horizontal rain whipping across everything. The Capital View Motor Inn has seen better days, I’m sure. We can tell by the lobby what to expect before even getting to our room which is not ready for us yet. We leave the car in the parking lot, bundle into our all-weather coats, and strike out for the information center a few blocks away.

We just miss the hop-on hop-off bus that we had planned to ride around. Another isn’t due for an hour and if we were to hop off anywhere, we are told there would be an hour wait for the next one. In this rain? No way. Instead we opt to hoof it to the cable car we wanted to ride which is about a ten minute walk. Much of the way is under cover of awnings provided by the shops, restaurants and businesses. The cable car ride up the mountainside is nice. The car is reminiscent of the early 1900s when the trams and cable cars were first built. A free museum at the top features several of the original cars and a great history of cable cars and trams in all of New Zealand. We enjoy a movie and the scenes depicted of the early 1900s.

Across from the museum is a little café with a view—well, the view would be wonderful if the wind was not whipping the rain around again. It is hard to complain too much when we have had nearly perfect weather to this point. We make light of trying to walk a straight line when the wind threatens to lift us off our feet. I now understand what those crazy weathermen feel like when they are out in a hurricane reporting on the wind and rain.

After a nice sandwich of chicken, cranberry sauce, and brie on a long roll along with a cup of tea, we take the cable car back down. Originally we’d planned to walk down but I am afraid we might actually fly without wings if we try to walk. 

At the bottom we explore our options again and decide to return to the Information Center and ride the bus around without getting off. The loop is supposed to take two hours and by then our room should be ready. When we go to get our tickets, we find that the bus is sold out. They try to talk us into a tour that costs more and is longer and doesn’t leave for another hour. Much as I don’t like museums, in weather like this and given the choice, I opt for the free museum in town rather than an expensive bus ride in the rain.

The Te Papa museum turns out to be delightful. There are all sorts of exhibits that show some funky wearable art, New Zealand’s geology as well as its plants and animals, a bit of Maori history, some political history, and one very huge giant squid. We wander through for almost two hours staying nice and dry and not being blown about.

Once outside again, I long for some shelter. The wind has not let up. The rain comes and goes. Surprisingly it is not terribly cold as you might imagine. We cross the pedestrian bridge again, find our way past the IC and back to the Motor Inn. Our room is ready and just as I imagined, it is a bit old and well used. But it’s clean and tidy and we’re only spending one night.

A pizza and a short walk in the evening and we try to settle in for the night. The wind is absolutely howling around our corner room. The rain is heavier and beats against the window. Television is impossible to watch as it is satellite and the reception completely breaks down every couple of minutes. “Looks like we’re watching through a kaleidoscope,” Bob quips. We opt to play cards.

 Drip. Drip. Drip. I look around to see if I left the faucet on in the kitchenette’s sink. Nope. Then my sock suddenly feels wet. I’ve stepped in a puddle on the floor. The source, it turns out, is the window. The rain is being whipped through the cracks around the window and is beginning to create its own little stream across the counter and onto the floor. I take the extra bath towel and do my best to plug the flow.

Bedtime and the wind is still howling but now we also have ambulance or police or fire sirens on a regular basis. I suspect there’s a hospital nearby or perhaps the wind has finally taken down some wires or trees or something. It takes a long time but we eventually fall asleep and wake early in the morning to find that the wind has taken a rest. The rain still falls but not as bad. Perhaps there’s hope for a good ferry ride to the South Island this morning.

New Zealand Diary - Martinborough, The Old Manse

Sunday, October 13, 2013

I wanted to take some time to tell you about The Old Manse where we stayed in Martinborough. Our hosts, John and Sandy, were delightful. The house has quite a history. It was built in 1876 and had five rooms and a thatched roof and served as home to 8 ministers over the years. For 28 years it was suitable but when Rev. James McCaw was called to the parish in 1904, it became evident with his large family that the home was not big enough. The Old Manse was enlarged by 1906 to the size it is today.

After 60 years of serving the ministers of the Presbyterian parish, the home was in need of repairs and renovation that were too burdensome for the church. The Old Manse was sold and a new one eventually built on another street nearby. After that, The Old Manse was owned by several families until finally being purchased by John and Sandy in 1999.

When John and Sandy purchased it the home was quite run down. Before and after pictures along with pictures of some of the ministers and their families who lived there are scattered throughout the hall and main area. The before-and-afters are amazing. John and Sandy paid attention to detail and definitely got it right. Even the light switches are period pieces. The only truly modern area is the kitchen but it blends in with all the other Victorian decoration.

When all the work was done, the church gave them permission to call it the Old Manse and they performed not only a Christian blessing but also a Maori blessing upon it. It is a number one rated bed and breakfast in the area.

At six, John and Sandy and a friend, Deb, come in with some refreshments and sit for a bit to visit with us. John tells us a little more about his adventures in restoring the home and shares his anticipation of retiring soon. Sandy shares a little of some of the memories of running the BB and I wondered how they are going to fair when it is over. They seem to truly enjoy the experience of meeting people. I’m sure there’s another side they won’t miss at all.

For us, it is a most enjoyable experience. We have the house to ourselves since John and Sandy live next door and there are no other guests this night. It is however a difficult night as the lovely pleasant breeze that was blowing in the afternoon becomes gale force wind in the night. An awning over the patio area flaps loudly every so often sounding like thunder.

John fixes us a delicious breakfast in the morning. Bob has baked beans with his eggs and I have tasty mushrooms with mine. The coffee is just right and we are set for our journey. I wonder what the day will be like driving to Wellington since the winds are due to continue for a day or two. Perhaps the weathermen don’t get it right all the time here either.

New Zealand Diary - A Wind Farm, Greytown and Martinborough

Sunday, October 13, 2013

The Mon Logis will be one of the B and Bs we remember for breakfast. Our host is French and once owned a café. His homemade croissants are melt-in-the-mouth good. And he makes a mean omelet. But today we say good bye to the croissants and begin our trip to Martinborough.

There’s not a whole lot on our schedule for today. Just two stops. The first is another farm—a wind farm. We arrive as dark clouds look like they are moving in. There is no lack of wind here and as we exit the car, it buffets us and makes me even more pleased that I got my hair cut short before we left. I’d never get the tangles out of longer hair after this.

The parking lot circles one of the windmills. We had gotten close to a windmill in Australia once but never directly under one. It is amazing. You can hear the blades cut through the air. Nearly 200 years ago scientists discovered that they could generate electricity by moving a magnet inside a coiled wire. While I don’t understand all the science apparently when the turbine’s blades move in the wind, they turn a shaft that connects with a magnetic rotor inside the generator at the top of the windmill. The spinning of the magnets creates electricity.

Each windmill is about 210 feet tall and generates enough electricity to power 900 homes. They need at least 14 kilometer per hour winds to turn the blades and each is capable of swiveling 360 degrees to find the wind direction. This place was chosen for the wind farm because of its constant winds.

The chilled wind chases me back into the car but I get one last shot of a string of windmills that the sun has decided to kiss. Bob joins me shortly. He takes the time to read the signs I’ll read later from the pictures I’ve taken of them.

I don’t remember when the realization struck us but we suddenly realized being Sunday, the library at Greytown probably wasn’t open and that was where we were supposed to get the information for the historical walk on our itinerary. Seeing the time, we decide to make a stop before in Masterton before we reach Greytown and get some lunch. In need of a restroom by that time, we head for the golden arches we see near where we park the car. We wonder if the beef is any better at McD’s. It’s not. But the sauce tastes the same.

On a short stroll through the town to stretch our legs a bit, we find several places we should have eaten instead of indulging in fast food. Offers of homemade soup and some intriguing sandwiches make us promise to check more carefully next time.

Greytown, a little while later, we find is bustling on this Sunday afternoon. With plenty of time left in our day, we stop and check out the information center that is open. They have the same tour that Bob had seen advertised online at the library. Actually there are two self-guided walks you can take. One visits historical buildings and the other historical trees. The lady kindly explains that Greytown played a big part in establishing Arbor Day in New Zealand and some of the trees originally planted are still standing. She mentions Ann Arbor as if it is related somehow and says she has relatives there. We extend our sympathies and try to explain the friendly rivalry between University of Michigan and the Ohio State University. Sort of like comparing the two biggest rugby rivals. She doesn’t quite get it until then.

Tucking the guide maps in a back pocket we decide to just stroll the main street and enjoy the sunny afternoon. The buildings have character and some remind me of old Wild West towns in America. Greytown was settled in 1854 and was a planned community set to become the capital city of the district. Unfortunately severe flooding from the nearby river caused the railroad to make other plans and Greytown became more a place for orchards and market gardens. But it did leave Greytown with lovely Victorian buildings that lent to wonderful renovations in the early 1900s and histories that we enjoy exploring for a while.  

We arrive in Martinborough. It is smaller than I had imagined. We stop by The Old Manse, our bed and breakfast for the night but don’t get an answer to the doorbell. We are a bit early so we drive into town. Town is just a large treed square with a few shops and restaurants surrounding it. Down the main street, are a few more places including a Wine Center that has information about the local wineries. This is a big area for wine making. We visit a few that are still open and stop at one that has a small café and have a snack. We order chips and aioli dip forgetting that chips here means fries. We have had more fries this past week and a half than we would have in a month or more back home. Still, it’s a nice snack, a lovely place to sit overlooking the grape vineyards and taking in the fresh breeze.

Little did we know that fresh afternoon breeze would turn into gale force winds by the evening.

New Zealand Diary - Napier, Gannets, Art Deco

Saturday, October 12, 2013

The Mon Logis our Bed and Breakfast has a historic marker at the front entry we hadn’t seen last night. It was first built as a terrace house in the late 1860s. In 1913 it was enlarged in the back to become the Capeview Private Hotel in 1915. It survived the huge earthquake that level a good bit of Napier in 1931 and was renovated later when it became the Mon Logis.

This morning we’ve decided to take a walk along the path that follows the beachfront into the city center. There is an information center there that we’ve already explored. Since the Hawkes Bay Scenic Train is not in season yet, we are off to the I Center to pick up a map of the self-guided Art Deco walk.

As we stroll the boardwalk, we suddenly discover a pod of dolphin frolicking near the shore. We stop and watch for a while. It appears they are feeding and kicking up extra food for the seagulls to feed off of. When they swim further down the beach, we turn to find a lady behind us watching them as well. Another friendly Kiwi encounter. She had just moved to Napier and was excited about the dolphins as well.

At the Information Center, we pick up the map we need. It costs less than half of what a guided tour would be per person and this way we can be on our own time schedule. We find the starting point and Bob begins to read about the art deco buildings as we walk. Basically, much of the town was rebuilt or restored during the 1930s after the big earthquake of 1931. Some of the buildings in between are much more modern but if you think Gatsby, you have a good idea of the atmosphere that is created by the art deco rage. Frank Lloyd Wright is mentioned often as having a big influence on the architecture of the time.

When we stop for tea and a rest, we discover in our conversation with the ladies there that a festival is held in February that lasts a week. Everyone dresses ala the period, Gatsby style, and the old cars come out and are paraded around. It’s great fun, we are told, and it certainly explains all the vintage clothing stores we’ve seen on our walk. There is one particular young woman at our church I think of who would absolutely love to attend that festival.

About 11:30 we start back to the Mon Logis to pick up our car. We need to be at a place call Cape Kidnappers by 1:15 for a special tour we’ve booked. Our drive out to the meeting point does not yield any good places to eat. We stop at what we fear might be the last takeaway place and order two hot dogs which are wannabe corn dogs without the cornmeal. The coating is more like a beer batter and the hot dogs inside have a red skin. The salt is enough to make us pucker. We eat enough to satisfy hunger, pitch the rest and continue on our way.

At the meeting place for the Gannet Safari Tour, we join four students from Germany and our guide who is just a delight. Jo drives us through a huge farm full of sheep and cattle and a golf course. Yes, a golf course. This farm, or station, is so large that the current owner decided to allot a part of it to a lodge and a golf course.

The further we go, the narrower the road until finally after passing through a couple of gates, we are on a graveled road winding up a precipice that overlooks the shore line and a valley full of sheep and cattle. Jo begins to explain that there are four colonies of Gannets here. Gannets are birds that look like a cross between seagulls and albatross but are actually related to the Booby family. Their wing span is about six feet, a bit smaller than the albatross.

This is nest building time and the males are appointed this task. Unfortunately they are not terribly good at it. They fly out to the shoreline and pick up seaweed and then try to get it all the way back to where the nest is to be built. Often they lose it on the way or when they land and drop it, it blows away.

The birds look so graceful in the air but a bit clumsy as they try to land in the middle of the colony with the wind whipping them around. I watch as some of them are rubbing heads and beaks, a type of courting move and then I see two who look like perhaps they are quarreling over a female. You can’t tell the males from the females by looking at them. They all look alike. But I guess they know the difference and that’s all that counts.

Jo tells us that the young Gannets make a flight over to the Australian coast and stay for a bit before returning. No one understands why they do it and why a few of them choose to stay in Australia. Most return to NZ though to stay and reproduce.

We gratefully sip on hot coffee while the birds entertain us with their flights and fights and merrymaking. It is a noisy bunch. This colony is on a high point but the other three are on lower levels including one colony along the beach.

On our way back Jo, who was once a farmer, tells us of some of the things she and her husband learned from raising cattle and sheep. She explains why it is best to put them together on a field. The cattle eat the higher grass and the sheep trim the lower grass keeping the fields looking as good as a golf course—provided you watch your step.

This farm we are driving through is also a bird sanctuary. Current and previous owners have gone to great lengths to rid the land of the predators, the stoats and weasels that prey on the kiwi and other birds of New Zealand. The kiwi population is growing on the farm.

The tour is three hours long but the time passes quickly and we’ve had such a great time, it is sad to see it come to an end. When we arrive back at our starting point, Jo gives us a map that shows us how we can get to the top of Te Mata, the ridge of stone we’ve seen across the valley. We follow her instructions and find our way to the top of a very windy lookout with an astounding view.

There is one more thing on our list to do before we can call it a day. We want to see the National Tobacco Company building which is supposed to be the iconic Art Deco building in Napier. We find it without any problem, do a Chevy Chase nod—seen it—and take off to find dinner. On the desired menu: lamb shank.