The family arrives - and finally it is Christmas!

I’ve had a chance to think about this in the past 10 days and two things strike me.  I can now see that during December there were times when I felt a bit stressed.  There, I’ve said it. There was a lot going on, and several balls in the air at any given time, and so yes, sometimes I did feel a bit of stress.  So when you read this blog as if it was all effortless, it wasn’t completely without its strains.  Just so you know.  And Roy - thank you : )

I was trying to get everything done before the girls arrived.   I needed to prepare two sermons, a Christmas Eve children’s service, and a baptism (my first) with all its attendant bits.  I needed to organise Christmas presents from afar, and plan Christmas meals in the heat, after 30 years of roast turkey and roaring fires. And I needed to finish off getting things for the house so that the girls would be comfortable and feel at home.  Most of all this was done before they touched down on Wednesday 14 December. 

The second thing is that at the time it seemed quite normal that we should see so many of our other family members here during December.  Yet they came 12000 miles, flying for over 25 hours, to be here.  Our modern comms – email, Facebook, skype – make it seem as if we are really close to each other.  The reality is, it is a very long way from the UK to NZ.  And yet during December we saw my sister and family, my stepsister and husband, and my sister-in-law and daughter, as well as our own 2 daughters.

The first to arrive, then, is sister Sue, with Paul, Oscar and Imogen:  

We need both cars to collect them from the airport and take them to their holiday let.  They are in St Heliers for 3 days before flying down to south island to visit other friends.  I think the sun might have shone…maybe once or twice.  We have a wonderful 4 hour visit to Uncle Roy’s museum, exploring Weird and Wonderful, scaring ourselves watching a video of an imaginary volcanic eruption/earthquake in our bay, and appreciating Rajah the stuffed elephant; and several family meals together.  Jetlag is an inevitable feature.  Early mornings (2 am, remember Sue?) don’t help.  But they get to see where we live and what our village looks and feels like. It all helps. And it’s lovely to see them out here. They fly south as our girls fly in…..

An emotionally charged beginning to the girls' visit when Philly emerges accompanied by a security guard and no sign of Louisa.  Note to all future travellers: don’t bring in any fresh fruit unless you declare it; a single apple will set you back $400 in fines! But then they are here, and nothing else matters.  The weather, however, refuses to play ball.  It rains solidly for the first 24 hours!

Then we’re off to the Bay of Islands, 3½ hours north of Auckland. We’re staying in a ‘tourist flat’ on a campsite near Paihia.  It’s small and smells strongly of damp; indeed the dehumidifier works overtime whilst we’re there.  But soon we just don’t care.  There is enough room for us all, we’re together, and we’re having fun.  Effects of jetlag ensure the girls are up earlier than usual, but we’re usually in bed at 9pm. There are trips out, hills to climb, boat trips to make, heritage to explore, meals to enjoy, and games of Uno to play.  

We visit Whangaroa (which means long bay/estuary):

[Philly atop St Paul's rock, Whangaroa]

[The view from the top looking towards the Pacific Ocean]

[It is so steep it's safer to come down parts of the hill on our bottoms]

Kerikeri:

[The Stone Store, Kerikeri - built 1832, now the oldest stone building in NZ]

[The Kemp House, Kerikeri Mission House - built in 1822, NZ's oldest standing European building]

[Just outside the Kemp House, this scene is reminiscent of much of UK]

Russell:

[The oldest church in New Zealand, in Russell]

[Roy's looking at the flagpole in Russell which was first erected in 1840 after the signing of the Waitangi Treaty; it was cut down 4 times by disaffected Maori who objected to the British flag flying; the town, then known as Kororareka, was sacked as a result; the flagpole was finally re-erected in 1858, after 400 Maori volunteers from several different iwi (tribes) spent several weeks working on it, and the British flag flew once again...]

Waitangi, where the signing of the famous Treaty that controversially brought Maori New Zealand under the sovereignty of the British took place.  CEO Jeanette Richardson is our guide for the morning:

[A wonderful new work by an Essex carver, depicting the essence of the Waitangi Treaty - Maori and Pakeha together paddling the waka]

[The longest working waka in New Zealand which has regular outings onto the water]

[Inside the whare nui, which represents all iwi]

[And because it represents ALL iwi, there is one lone carving of a female figure, the only one inside any whare nui in the country]

[The mannequin of Sir James Busby, British Resident, 

who signed the Waitangi Treaty on behalf of the British]

and we fail to see any dolphins on our 4 hour boat trip round the islands:

[This is the famous Hole in the Rock...]

[Like something from a bygone age]

[It was rather windy!]

And I really should mention the kayaking:

and the eating...

[Supper in our 'tourist flat', end of day one]

[And the flowering pohutukawa, outside the church in Paihia, where we worship on the Sunday]

Altogether it is a pretty fab 5 days! 

On the way home I quiz the girls on various Maori words, names of places, dates and events.  It's surprising how much they remember …

It’s back to a whirlwind of events, however, beginning with drinks with Philippa Tait (widow of Roy’s former Captain at BRNC Dartmouth a million years ago) on the evening of our return.  Sister Sue is back in town, so next day we meet up for beach/swim/lunch/coffee.  It seems so natural that we’re all together, on St Heliers beach, in the southern hemisphere. 

[Afternoon coffee at Kahve, St Heliers]

There’s some sun, and some heavy rain.  And I manage to pick up the wrong key and lock us out.  Only then do we discover that the spare key I’d cannily left in the church office for just such an emergency had been carefully placed inside the petty cash box – which had been stolen 3 weeks earlier when an opportunistic burglar had raided the vicarage (our temporary office) during Sunday worship.  And no, neither Oscar nor Imogen is small enough to squeeze through the window aperture…   Luckily Jess comes to the rescue and drives out with Roy’s key to let us in.  Particularly lucky, as that evening we have stepsis Rebecca and Phil arriving for drinks at 6, followed by a big family dinner at the smart Annabelle’s – and I have daughters who wish to do more than just wash off the sand!

[Celebratory supper at Annabelle's with Philly, Phil, Louisa, Sarah, Paul, Rebecca and Roy - sister Sue was taking the photo.  It was a really wonderful evening of excellent food and loads of laughter]

It is now 23 December; Sue and family are flying off to Australia, and Phil and Rebecca are flying to south island, where they are each spending Christmas.  Meanwhile sis-in-law Cindy, and our niece Emily, are flying in to Auckland for their 12 day holiday.  Planes in the day, rather than ships in the night.  Can you keep up with this?  I found it hard at times.

I collect turkey and ham from the butcher, and Michael (my vicar) gives me our Christmas present – a pavlova base, strawberries, kiwi fruit, and a pot of cream.  We’re almost set.  We just need some decent weather so that the BBQ will happen on our balcony…

Christmas Eve.  The girls and I swim while Roy does culture with Cindy and Emily.  Then it’s time for church services.  I deliver the 5 pm (congregation of 87); ‘you looked just like Julie Andrews with all the children at your feet’; couldn’t have a nicer compliment.  Home for cold ham, baked potatoes, asparagus; back to church for 9.30 (270+) and the altar is ablaze with candles, no other lighting at all.  I fall into bed at midnight.  Up again at 6, into church for 7, preaching at 8 (58), staying on for 9.30 (143).  Home by 11 am.  Feeling rather tired, but it is now Christmas Day and that means celebrations and presents with family, and crackers and hats, and BBQ turkey and salads…. 

[left to right - Cindy, Louisa, Roy, Emily, Julie, Philly]

[My version of a Kiwi Christmas pudding, thanks to Michael and Rebecca]

[All in a day's work...]

It is, however, also the day that Julie is flying back to the States…. No job has materialised; there is no work visa in the offing.  She doesn’t know when she’ll be back.  Julie has come to share Christmas lunch with us, but then I have to say goodbye whilst the rest of the family is upstairs still in party mode.  That is hard.

Energy levels flag.  Jetlag hits Cindy and Emily; they retire to their hotel.  We all take an hour or so of quiet time.  Then a Christmas Day walk up to Ladies Bay, a wonderfully refreshing swim, and the photo of a lifetime……..

That concludes Christmas.  Enough for one blog, n’est-ce pas?

A pot-pouri of parties

And so we move into December.   And the first thing we do is have a Housewarming Party, obviously.  We invite nearly 60 of our new friends, and 40 of them actually come!  Our smallish living area is augmented by use of the balcony; luckily it isn’t raining.  In fact it’s a glorious evening.  Julie and Jessa arrive mid-afternoon to help prepare nibbles.  It’s a jolly occasion that starts promptly at 6pm, when our first guests arrive, and doesn’t conclude til after 10.30, when the last ones leave; and finally the dishwasher gets to do its maiden wash.

Beverley has the third of her Christmas lunches the following day and Julie and I are invited.  It gives Beverley the chance to bring out her best china and ornaments amidst the Christmas decorations:

[Beverley in the middle, the lovely Julie on the right, other parishioners make up the numbers.]

‘Tis the season to be jolly, and all that.

Next day Vellenoweth Green, which lies between our house and the sea, also hosts a party of sorts.  American cars and bikes, past and present, cover the green.  It’s like a giant set for Grease….

[Note the 2 giant Moreton Bay fig trees in the background; they were planted by Sarah Selwyn, wife of Bishop Selwyn, around 160 years ago.]

[You can't see it but the registration of the big hearse behind the bikes is actually 'DEAD'...]

[As the sun sets over the Hauraki Gulf, a rainbow makes an appearance.]

And two days later Julie and I attend the marae at Orakei, where we play our part in the powhiri (formal welcome), make our koha (donation), sing our waiata (songs), offer our pepeha (reciting places of reference that give our lives meaning), share kai (food) and receive our end-of-term certificates.  Whew!  [At least, Julie gets her certificate; for some reason mine has been made out in the name of someone unknown to me, and so I have to wait until the new year for paper confirmation that I have passed my beginners course in Maori.]  We say a fond farewell to our fellow students, and to Celess and Alan who have piloted us on the waka (Maori war canoe) these past few weeks.  There’ll be more detail on Maori things in a later blog – promise!

[My long-awaited certificate, which I finally collected last Monday.]

[A gift from Celess; it's taonga (treasure/a treasured item) that she made for me - she did one for each of the students.  It's a tiki (carved human figure) painted on glass, that is meant to bring good fortune to its owner.  It's now on the sideboard in our living room here.]

Three days later it's our final party before the family arrives.  We gather at Roy’s museum to share festive spirit.  It’s fancy dress – Heroes and Villains.  Roy and I go as Marguerite and Mephistopheles (you know, from Faust, obvious really); that is I wear a long dress and a white flower, Roy wears black tie (only it’s red) and a red flower.  That’s about as far as either of us likes to go in the fancy dress stakes!  Roy makes a speech.  Suddenly I find myself in front of the microphone offering to lead everyone in one of the waiata I’ve learned off by heart.  Now there’s something that doesn’t happen every day….

[sorry, no photos taken of the office bash : ( ]

Next instalment, the family arrives...

Giving thanks

Isn't it good to give thanks?  Don't you think it makes you feel better to acknowledge your blessings?  Well, I do. I'm thankful for so many things in my life.  And last November I was invited to not one but two American Thanksgiving dinners, which wasn't bad considering that we're out in New Zealand where Americans are definitely in a minority.

So, the first comes courtesy of Julie, my dear American friend who has brightened up so many of my days here.  With some American friends of her own destined to be here on 24 November, the official day to celebrate Thanksgiving in 2011 (a day that many Americans regard as more important than Christmas!) Julie decides to put on a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, with turkey, cranberry sauce, et al.  Only drawback, the holiday home is down in Karaka Bay, whose only access is down a steep, zigzagging path over 100m long.  Never mind.  We'll just carry everything down - and back up!

We have Beverley with us.  Beverley is in her late 70s; she has difficulty walking distances, even on the flat.  Beverley is detailed off to cook the turkey and make the gravy. Julie makes excellent pies. I'm providing potatoes and kumara for mashing. I also provide transport.  Late afternoon I collect Beverley, turkey and gravy, and Julie with sundry bags/pies/sauces/veg and we make our way to Karaka Bay parking area.  Then we form relays.  I dash ahead to tackle potatoes.  Beverley arrives with Julie 5 minutes later.  We are also joined by 2 other Americans Julie has met in her search for a job, men in their 20s, far from home.  We are a motley crew down by the beach in a wooden holiday home with basic facilities, but somehow it all comes together and we celebrate joyfully, and each of us gives thanks for the good things in our lives:

The little holiday home is the one in the foreground.



Karaka Bay on a balmy November evening; you can see Browns Island, otherwise known as MotuKorea, another extinct volcanic island.

Beverley's turkey and gravy, with Beverley in the background.  She was married to an American and loves all things US.

A feast awaits.

Julie slaving over a hot stove, with her friend Stephanie supervising : )

My only concern all evening is 'how are we to get Beverley back up the path?'.  I needn't have worried.  With a bit of encouragement she finds extraordinary energy, and ignoring her dodgy legs she fair strides up the path.  Just shows what we can do when people believe in us.....

Two days later Roy and I are having our latest weekend away at Kawau Island, just over an hour's drive north of Auckland.  We are there because there are 2 Americans we've never met who know someone in England who knows Roy.  Naturally they invite us to join their Thanksgiving Dinner.  So we book into the only B&B on the island at Kawau Lodge (thoroughly recommended, incidentally, in spite of my mosquito bites).  Our Lodge hosts are also Thanksgiving guests.  Everyone takes something.  I take Anzac biscuits.  Ok, so they're Kiwi staples, but I did make them myself; surely that counts for something?

Just after 6pm we duly head over to the Pardeys (yacht followers may recognise the name; Lin and Larry, inveterate sailors of many decades and authors of many yachting books).  The place is awash with new faces for us.  There are those who own baches (beach houses, remember?) on the island, those who've come by boat, and us.  In all we are 34!  Some French, some American, some Kiwis, some Brits.  Another motley crew you might say.

It takes TWO turkeys to feed this lot.  They've done this before.  There's a well-drilled set-piece as tables are organised and laid and bowls of food appear.  It's delightfully laidback and friendly.

One of the turkeys waiting to be carved; Larry Pardey with the white beard, in the middle...

Definitely something to be thankful for!

We have a wonderful day exploring Kawau, having morning coffee and afternoon tea with new friends.  We visit the Mansion House, one-time home of Governor Grey from the 1860s:

It's now looked after by the Department of Conservation.  Beautiful grounds:

It's like a traditional parkland, with a mixture of English and exotic trees together.  Unlike the rest of the island which is coated in pohutukawa, punga, kanuka and manuka - and others unknown to me....  You can see how wooded it is here:

That's Kawau Lodge, above.

On the other side of the inlet from the Lodge lies the Pardeys' house, to the right.  All places are only accessible by boat. Roy's kind of heaven.  I could have done without the mosquitoes.........

And so November draws to a close and we prepare for our Christmas visitors, with thankfulness.

New year, new things

Oh dear.  As my younger daughter has just reminded me, it's been more than 2 months since I last blogged.  You will indeed be thinking that I've dropped off this other side of the world.

I have not been idle, I'll have you know.  Far from it.  This is the first week since mid-November when I've had time to write letters/get new ink cartridges/sort out the plasterer.... etc. And I'm thoroughly enjoying the slower pace for just this week or two.

So, what gives? What do the last 2 months hold that might be of interest to you?  Yes, I know I said my next post would be about all things Maori, but that might have to wait.  Should I do a series of short ones?  That might be best.  I don't want to put you off with a huge blog with no focus.

Perhaps this one should just say HAPPY NEW YEAR to you all, and then I'll rewind the tape for the others. Yes, that's what I'll do.  New year, new things, new blogs.  Read on, in a minute when I've written them.... :0)