Nau mai, haere mai...

Nau mai, haere mai - 'Welcome!'  At least, broadly speaking that's what it means.

It's one of the things we find ourselves saying quite a lot in the summer season out here - Dec/Jan/Feb.  A surprising number of people seem to find the prospect of a sunny, beautiful country 12000 miles away curiously alluring during the UK winter months.

We have hosted various overseas guests in our time here, several of them family of course.  But friends from different parts of our lives have also made the long journey, usually as part of a lifetime wish to explore New Zealand, and they often drop in to say 'hi'.  Some stay a night, or two (or more), en route.  Each brings a flavour of the UK into our St Heliers home.

This year we seem to have had more visitors than usual.  So I thought I'd make a quick photographic record of those who just called in, or who stayed ...

First came Cindy.  We may not have had any offspring with us this Christmas, but Cindy once more braved the journey and joined us for the festive season.  She has found a brilliant one-roomed apartment nearby, in easy walking distance, so we can see each other every day but retain a measure of independence:

Then it was Julia and Graham Williams, friends and neighbours from Tolleshunt D'Arcy, who spent a couple of nights with us during their second visit to NZ; this time round their son Duncan is living and practising as a vet down near Christchurch, in South Island:

The record wouldn't be complete without including Philippa, who joined us for nearly 3 weeks in January:

[We were up One Tree Hill; that's Rangitoto in the distance]

During the time she was here, we had our now (3rd) annual 'social' with Colin and Val Ferbrache, fab naval friends from way back (Colin was one of our ushers), whose son also lives and works here with his wife and 2 children, thus ensuring (we hope) that we shall see Colin and Val out here again next year!

Our next visitors were in Auckland for just one evening.  Lynne Clemence (an old university friend of mine) and her husband Gerald, jumped into a taxi and made their way to St Heliers in time for a quick hike up to Achilles Point, followed by supper at Moretons:

[Lynne and me posing in front of the po at Achilles Point]

And then it was my birthday.  Birthdays are always special, and as many of you know mine falls on Valentine's Day every year, so it's doubly so.  But this one will always stick in my memory because we were joined by 3 wonderful old friends, also from naval days.  Andy and Kate Du Port were finally getting to tour NZ after their previous trip had had to be cancelled 2 years ago, and were booked in to spend 4 nights with us.  Then we discovered that Charles Montgomery, husband of one of my dearest friends, Adrienne, just happened to be in NZ on UK Border Agency business! Happily for us he managed to carve out 3 hours in Auckland before his flight home.  We hiked up to Achilles Point (again), before drinking bubbles and eating olives on our balcony:

[Charles and me, at Achilles Point; that's 'my' island (Motukorea) in the distance]

[Kate and Andy and some bubbles at 2/42 Goldie St]

As the Du Ports drove off for the next part of their adventure, American Julie flew in, complete with mother and mother's 2 oldest friends, all of them approaching their 80th birthdays.  Though Julie didn't stay with us this time, given her full-time role as chaperone to the group we affectionately named her 'whanau' (pronounced 'far-no', meaning 'family'), we succeeded in having fun together on a couple of the days they were all in Auckland:

[Julie, always in search of a decent wool shop]

And then, when it seemed that that would be it on the visitor-front, my former vicar from Tollesbury, Keith Lovell, and his wife Pauline, landed in Auckland at the beginning of their trip-of-a-lifetime.  Having picked up their enormous campervan from the airport, they spent their first 24 hours with us in St Heliers to recover from the long flight:

Just as well we are now in a visitor lull.  The spare bed is currently covered in wedding hat/hatbox/clothing and sundry other items shortly to be packed into various pieces of luggage for my trip home TODAY!

See you on the other side.............  :-) 

Every picture tells a story

Not sure I know where to start.  I've not blogged since November.  That means more than 5 months of antipodean activity has gone unrecorded.

What excuse do I have?  Nothing that really stands up.  The longer you go without writing, the harder it is to sit down and reflect and create something that captures what you've been up to.
How come I am writing now, then?  Because in less than a week I will be back in the UK, and it is inconceivable that I should return with 5 months of unbroken blog silence.  Maybe, too, the incipient excitement has kick-started my blogging habit once more.

The drought started because I got a bit burned out towards the end of last year.  There was a bunch of stuff at church that had got me down, pastoral situations of varying kinds that made everything that much harder and more tiring; and with Helen away over Christmas, there was quite a lot of pressure being in charge over Christmas.  Yes, I had support and help from lots of others, but I definitely felt the pressure.  And worst of all, for the first time I had no 'children' around at Christmas time.  And I missed UK home.  Sometimes 12000 miles feels much further than at other times...

So, it was a bit of a dark couple of months of the soul.  Which everyone gets now and then, of course. Fortunately I was rescued by lots of prayer at New Wine in January - refreshed, restored, revitalised, renewed, reworked essentially.  Praise God!  I emerged from what felt like a numb stupour, just in time to welcome Philippa, who came out mid January for nearly 3 whole weeks.  Fantastic!  Just what was needed.

We visited gannets, went sailing and had three happy days in the Coromandel with Roy:

[A bench designed to cut 'Tall Poppies' down to size; at Rapaura Watergardens,

near Tapu, on the west coast of the Coromandel Peninsula]

 [Tairua, meaning two tides, on the east coast]

 [Ocean Beach, Tairua, where we swam; Mount Paku in the distance]

 [The extraordinary Driving Creek Railway, brainchild and life's work of potter Barry Brickell, 

who began the narrow-gauge rail track in 1975.  It's the only one in NZ

and carries around 30,000 visitors a year!]

[Kennedy Bay, east coast; Philly emerges like Ursula Andress from the sea]

[A trio 'selfie' in the sub-tropical gardens]

Then Roy flew back to the UK for work-related things, mostly WW1, and Philly and I grabbed the chance to do a girls' road trip in South Island. Joyous indeed.  Philly began on her own, with an overnighter on a boat on Milford Sound and hand-gliding in Queenstown  (not really my thing). After which I picked her up in Queenstown and we headed for a night in Arrowtown, which I love.  In fact according to Philly everyone else hates Arrowtown compared to how much I love it!  The best fish and chips EVER in The Fork and Tap pub, should you ever go there...

From Arrowtown to Wanaka.  Something of a challenging drive up over the  pass. It rained for a start, and the zigzagging road with no fence did nothing for my nerves.

Have to admit I was doing my best to hide what  a quivering wreck I was at the wheel.  It took me some time to recover my composure afterwards, but a delicious organic pizza delivered to our hotel room in the evening certainly helped.

We leaped out of bed early the following morning - in summer temperatures of 4 degrees - to climb Lion Hill before breakfast.  This became something of a theme.  Philly's love of all things Bear Grylls was definitely rubbing off...

[Lake Wanaka from Lion Hill]

Wanaka on to Fox Glacier over the Haast Pass, Philippa driving thankfully.  It's a must.  Six hours, with stops to see a few things en route.  A real bucket list drive.  The Pass is not scary, just beautiful.  Lakes, mountains, meadows, rivers, waterfalls - and luckily for us, gorgeous blue sky.

[We picnicked at this spot]

[At the Blue Pools]

[The mouth of the Haast River]

Fox Glacier isn't much of a town, or even a village, but that's not the point.  It has a glacier.  Philly and I had new merino and possum hats; we had tickets for a half-day glacier walk, and we had the weather to do it.  My second adventure in 2 days, with crampons and poles, climbing up ice steps, heart thumping, wondering what on earth I was doing.  The ice was quite grubby and wet, but I didn't care.  Once I got the hang of it there was (almost) no stopping me.

The following morning we yomped round Lake Mattheson before breakfast, hoping for the view that appears on all the postcards.  Sadly the weather didn't play ball.  The best I could do was this:

[Lake Mattheson, with cloud obscuring the mountains]

[The postcard version...]

Another drive up the west coast, through Hokitika to Greymouth.  Have you read The Luminaries yet?  It won the Man Booker prize for the 28-year old Kiwi author, Eleanor Catton.  A sort of modern Dickens; something of a mystery set in and around Hokitika. I was very keen to get a sense of all the places I'd been reading about.  And to buy some pounamu of course (New Zealand greenstone).  It's a pretty place, with its origins in gold mining, and a shockingly dangerous bar at the mouth of the river.

[We saw a lot of this incredible blue water, caused by glacial minerals]

[Hokitika river - no more blue sky]

[The clock tower memorial at the centre of Hokitika]

[Down by the bar; lots of driftwood from gales]

By contrast the larger Greymouth doesn't have much to commend it.  Though I rather liked this building:

[In case you can't make it out, the original wording was 'Bank of New Zealand']

But it's from here that the transalpine train goes to/from Christchurch, our next leg.  First we had time for a quick trip up the coast to Punakaiki to see the Pancake Rocks -  an extraordinary sight:

[Pancake Rocks; no-one seems to be able to say why they're like this]

[Lots of different craggy 'faces']

And then the transalpine itself, a 4-hour journey to Christchurch through yet more spectacular landscapes of mountains, rivers and pastures:

[and just like that, the weather changed!  That's one of the bridges we'd just crossed]

And so to Christchurch. My first visit.  The worst earthquake had already happened by the time we came out here so I never got to see it in all its glory. Philly and I stayed in a motel right on the edge of the red zone.  What an eye-opener.  Devastation still; large empty sections of land, interspersed with buildings, some ok others condemned; the sound of bulldozers working ceaselessly; roads under construction; bits looking like familiar photos of Beirut.  And yet in the middle of all this, a container city centre shopping/eating area; the cardboard cathedral; and random areas of brightly-coloured creative installations.   They still have a long way to go...    

[Colombo Street, one of the main arterial streets of the city centre, just outside our motel]

      [City centre]   

     

[Christchurch cathedral, broken beyond repair]

[Note the steps forced into a slant - and the art installations to soften the sight]

[I love the ingenuity of this cafe area - wooden boxes and upturned plastic baskets,

with stacked painted pallets]

[Container-city shopping]

[The award-winning cardboard cathedral, a beacon of hope for the city; 

the architect was acclaimed Japanese Shiguru Ban, pro bono work]

After all that amazing natural beauty, and all that unexpected sunshine (Hokitika gets the most rainfall in the whole of New Zealand - up to a whopping 10 metres of rain a year), it was fitting that we should end up in a grey and sombre Christchurch.  These images reflect the other side of nature (the raw power that undid so much of human endeavour over the past century), as well as the Cantabrian determination to bounce back, to 'man up and crack on'.

Bit of a whistle-stop tour of the west coast, but I hope you've enjoyed the photos.  

Til soon :-)