Boxing Day

Except for the United States, Boxing Day is observed in countries with ties to the old British Empire (a term that makes current Brits shudder). Here is what might be found on Boxing Day: Huge shopping discounts in the stores, a shopping day akin to the day after Thanksgiving in the United States, now called Black Friday A public holiday with no banking or postal services. If Christmas falls on a Friday as this year, the next Monday may be a public holiday. That is true in NZ this year. A day for family sports and parlour games Local professional sports contests Horse racing Cold cuts or Christmas leftovers spread in a buffet What are the origins of Boxing Day? There are several theories: While not really known, the origin may have started in Roman times as the Feast of St. Stephen, still observed on 26 December, designated as a time to donate goods and money to the poor Gifts of money were also given to family servants, who were given the day off. The family then had a cold spread to eat that day (a box lunch?), prepared in advance by the servants In Victorian England, it was a day for tradesmen to collect their "gift boxes" from patrons in return for good service Nevertheless, the etymology of the term Boxing Day is unknown, according to Wikipedia, my sole resource for this information On Boxing Day, the Kiwi Consort and I visited our former neighbors on Exmouth Street, noted the only store open in our little Windsor shopping area was the New World grocery, bought a can opener at The Warehouse which was doing a brisk business, and went to see the movie, Avatar at the Reading Theatre. We ate leftovers. Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

I'm baaaaack!! 24 December 2009

Kia Ora! I had so many leftover stories to tell when I returned from New Zealand that I fully intended to keep writing from the US. Didn't happen... But I am back in Southland Province in the city of Invercargill, where the KC (Kiwi Consort) and I lived for 6 months of 2008-9. So my intent is to pick up where I left off. We will be only 2 months in Invercargill and then we move to the city of Auckland in the Northland on North Island (of course) for 3-4 months. That will be 4 months for the KC and 3 months for the KT (Kiwi Traveler/me). KC is employed by Southland Hospice in Invercargill and at the end of January starts work at North Shore Hospice, where his contract goes to mid-June. I do not intend to miss all of May and half of June at the Minnesota cabin, so I will be back early. My intent is to write more frequently. The travelogs may include stories from all three years that we have lived in NZ: first in Greymouth, then Invercargill and next Auckland. I will date the entries if they seem time sensitive. At least that is the plan from this end of the journey. We'll see if it pans out that way or goes the way of all good intentions. More soon. Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

HOME TO INVERCARGILL 1 Dec. '09

HOME TO INVERCARGILL – 01 December 2009 As I pulled the larger of my bags to load into the car, a wheel fell off. No time now to fix it, it would fly 3-wheeled. An omen? Heading back for the third summer (USA winter) in New Zealand , something told me I needed to be prepared for any contingency that might arise: cancelled/delayed flights, overweight baggage, I was prepared for it all … almost. Clean underwear, pajamas, and hygiene products went into the backpack that would be my carry-on. If my bags were overweight, I was prepared to fling open the offending bag right there on the floor of the terminal in front of the check-in desk and transfer the 3 or so pounds to another bag. It wouldn't be the first time. For faster check-in at the airport, I joined the first class line. I struck up a conversation with the man ahead of me and learned that two flights had been canceled and the agents were scrambling to accommodate the displaced passengers, of which he was one. They all seemed to be in this line. It took 45 minutes to get to the agent, while ironically the economy line did not appear to be affected. My smaller bag topped out at 53 pounds (Air NewZealand allows 70), but the agent had more important things to consider. There was a problem with the system that prints baggage tags, so she not only had to register the bags electronically, but then make out old fashioned, hand written paper tags. I made sure they were checked all the way to Invercargill at the southern tip of New Zealand 's South Island . By arrival at LAX (Los Angeles), my least favorite airport in the world, I had been on my way for seven hours. Negotiating LAX was more problematic than it should have been. Misdirection from a uniformed worker sent me the wrong way pushing a luggage cart with my back pack and "personal bag" across several lanes of traffic, through a parking garage, and physically lifting the cart onto the side walk by terminal 2. Then I had to get another set of boarding passes from Air New Zealand and go through security again. I was wanded (I never get through easily since a knee replacement) and sent to wait until boarding. With a 12+ hour flight over the Pacific Ocean , there was plenty of time to eat meals, watch a movie, and get some sleep. I arrived in Auckland but apparently only one of my two bags did. Several persons were missing bags, and we marched as a group to Baggage Services. As the personnel were beginning to write up lost bag claims a shout went up from across the hall, and a large cart of found baggage was shoved in. All missing bags were there. I wonder how they could have lost a whole cart of baggage. Now I pushed my way safely past immigration, where I was scolded for having no arrival address, into biosecurity. I declared the Minnesota wild rice brought as gifts for friends. But the rice packer was not on their list as an approved vendor and that package was confiscated. I chose not to disclose the other two packages of wild rice still tucked my bag. I left Austin, Texas at noon on Tuesday, December 1st, and arrived in Auckland at 5:30AM Thursday, December 3, through the miracle of the International Date Line. I must say it certainly felt like I had been traveling for two days and I wasn't at my destination yet. I changed planes again in Christchurch before landing finally in Invercargill. Emerging from the jetway, I looked for friends who were going to pick me up. No one, so I have time to visit the rest room. Still no one. OK, I will take a taxi to … well, I didn't know where. I went back into the terminal to deal with the ATM machine, but this machine took only local bank cards. I still had credit cards and a taxi could wait while I got money from a more globally oriented machine in town. I stood outside the terminal now alone with my heaped-high baggage cart appreciating a rare warm sunny day and the smell of clean, salty sea air. The commuter bus had left and no taxis were in sight. Had my friends forgotten? Then they were there! Hugs all around from Nicki and Kate . Bags into the car and - oops! The entire retractable handle mechanism on the smaller of my bags fell off. But I was here without serious problems. I felt like I had come home! Cheers from the Kiwi Traveler

Day 2 in Qtown

Kia Ora!

I have yet to finish the trip to Queenstown; the best is yet to come. On Day 2 we rode the gondola to the top of the mountain that overlooks Queenstown. Once on top, there are a number of activities in which to participate. We ruled hang gliding out right away. Two persons were killed and one seriously injured on that activity this year. No one died bungy jumping. Yet.

We decided to ride the luge which required climbing on another lift. Neither the gondola nor the lift stops to load and unload passengers. One must jump in or climb on while in motion and off one goes. Or not, depending on one's agility. The attendant at the lift gave some kind of instruction that I didn't catch. They all have this funny accent, you know. As we swung off into the air, I did catch what she yelled next: "Pull the bar down or you'll fall off on your head!!!" Oh yeah. I reached up and behind us and pulled the bar over the front of us.

Tickets in hand, we chose the "gentle, scenic" luge route. I looked at the diminutive carts and asked if there were other sizes. Nope, one size fits all. Or not. This was sedately fun, at least for one of us.














We had a surprisingly delicious buffet lunch overlooking The Ledge, a hut cantilevered with no visible support off the edge of the mountain. We watched as a man in a blue shirt and tan shorts threw himself out of the hut and down into the abyss below, not once but at least 3 times. Each time hut attendants dragged him back up the bungy jump.

After lunch, I casually suggested we walk down to the bungy jump hut, just to see what it was all about. Yeah, sure. So, did she or didn't she? See April 14 entry.

Cheers and Aroha!
Kiwi Traveler

Home is where I am

"Home for you is wherever you hang your hat." Fern Keller (my mother), 1957. Kia Ora! We leave Invercargill tomorrow morning April 17, a bittersweet departure. While this has been a rewarding experience, we are anxious to get and give besos y brasos to our kids (that's Texas talk for hugs and kisses). Waiting for us will be 4 of our 5 kids and 3 grandchildren. Who wouldn't want to come home to that? First we fly through Christchurch to Auckland. We are staying there one night so The Kiwi Consort can interview for yet another temporary position in palliative care for next year. I guess he likes it! Friday afternoon we fly out of Auckland to LA. Then on to Austin via Denver, arriving around midnight. We will be in Texas for about a month and then drive to Minnesota where this writer will spend the North American summer months. That of course is an adventure in itself, but not one that falls into the vegemite tales category. (Although I brought some vegemite back with me. That stuff is addicting!) I have more tales about living and traveling in New Zealand (we have lived in Greymouth as well as Invercargill), Antarctica, and the sub-Antarctic islands that I haven't been able to finish and post. And at some time in the future, I will post on this site, all the adventures that I have been sending the select few on e-mail. So here's the deal. I will get them finished as I can and post them on the blog. Essentially, until we return to KiwiLand, this becomes a memoir, albeit one of relatively recent adventures. If you aren't already, I invite you to become a Follower. If it works as it should, the site will just notify you by email when a new posting is up. Then you can read it on the blog and post comments also. This is the address to bookmark: http://vegemite-tales.blogspot.com/ Thank you for reading my musings. I have so enjoyed the responses I received from you. Until we next meet ... Cheers and Aroha*! The Kiwi Traveler *Maori. Translates akin to Aloha from Hawaii.

AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaa...........

Keep your eye on the red shirt.....................







I don't think I can do this!
















Whoa! Back flip out?













YIKES!









WHOOPEE!!!!

































Big Bounce

















Just swingin'












Coming
back
up












I DID IT!!!!!










Note: Before the jump, I signed a legal waiver which I didn't read, of course. Later, I noted AJ Hackett Bungy would not be responsible for "... emotional trauma to friends and relatives ...". I would have just blown that off except The Partner was so relieved that I survived that he cried. Gotta' love that man!

Cheers!
Kiwi Traveler

Living the high life in Qtown

4 April 2009 Kia Ora! Queenstown is the queen of New Zealand's tourist industry. We have been here before but ignored the usual tourist attractions in favor of a wine tour and visit to a historical Chinese village limited restoration in Arrowtown, returning by way of the market orchards around Cromwell. You will find that story on a previous post. Now I want to be a tourist in Queenstown, so this is the weekend to indulge me, if not us. We are booked at the Novotel, teeming with busloads of tourists from America, Japan, Holland, Germany and who knows where else. I got in on an Internet special and then, bonus!, we are upgraded to a garden room. The Novotel is on Marine Parade, a boulevard right at the water front, and we can walk to The Mall, restaurants, and more. We choose highly reviewed restaurants for our meals (The Bunker, Pier 19, and Wai, which is Oh-My-Gawd! good). The Skyline Restaurant at the top of the peak overlooking Queenstown is closed Saturday, so that is saved until Sunday. For a buffet, it is surprisingly good also. So other than food, the big Saturday event is a trip across Lake Wakatipu in a vintage steamship, TSS Earnslaw. There is talk of closing this attraction because of the pollution from the coal-fired engine. I don't know; what do you think? We watched the coal being loaded into the hold and then viewed the engine room and the crew hand shoveling it into the engines. Some people wondered who was the Captain of this ship anyway! The ship is quite elegant and features a piano player and sing-a-long on the return trip. Alas, only the piano player seems to be singing. Some passengers debarked across the lake at Walter Peak Station to tour the compound of a former sheep station and watch demonstrations of dogs herding sheep and sheep shearing. Having just had an up-close-and-personal-tour of the McIntosh sheep farm, we passed on that option. Back at the quay, we shop an artist's flea market and wander out on a jetty. Here is the winning New Zealand ship from America's Cup, of which the Kiwis are justifiably proud. Tourists can get in on the thrill for a price and book a sail on the vessel. We wander on up to Shotover Street. I spy the AJHackett Bungy storefront. Hackett is the owner of several bungy jumps around Qtown. Are there jumps with a harness instead of ankle wraps, is my query. Then, eyeing my wrinkles and gray hair, he says: Good on you! You can make that jump. Yeah, right! Then we drive out to Glenorchy, a tiny hamlet at the other end of the lake. It is halfway to the trailhead of the Greenstone Track, the 4-day backpacking adventure we took on a long-ago trip to NZ. In the village, we share Devonshire tea and pleasant memories of a time when we could still do a mountain tramp. Saturday is the tame day. Just wait until I tell you about Sunday! Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

Fw: A visit to the farm

29 March 2009 Kia Ora! We are invited to the McIntosh farm. Yes, that McIntosh; Jamie's parents Kate and Alistair. Alistair, also called "Tosh", raises sheep and also has about 19 cattle. The trip to the farm takes about an hour from Invercargill. We traverse backcountry roads and through the foothills close to the Catlin Mtns. The comfortable 5-bedroom farmhouse, up a hill and accessed via a narrow tree and shrub lined lane, is tucked into a shady glen. Though the day is chilly and gray, we warm ourselves by a warm fire in a sunken parlour. Dinner includes delicious lamb chops (What else?!), served two steps up in the dining area. I ask Alistair if this is a sheep station. He laughs. "No, a station is at least 10,000 acres. We only have about 700 acres." Just a teeny place, you see! Alistair and Kate run about 7,000 sheep. After dinner, Alistair takes us on a tour of the farm. Anticipating this tour, I am prepared with my rubber calf-high Wellingtons (aka gumboots). We travel through multiple paddocks to the top of the farm and inspect just a small representation of that 7,000. In the sheep shed, Alistair shows us bales of wool from shearing that happened early this morning. Too bad the shearers were on their own schedule; I would have loved watching the process. Alistair demonstrates how the sheep are sheared and shows us the electronic technology by which each sheep is weighed as they pass through a shoot. Then they are divided into different pens based on weight. Some are off to market while others need to grow more. Back by the welcome warmth of the fire, we have tea and meet Pocket, the cat. Kate tells us the amazing story of Penny and Pocket, and Alistair gives us a children's book by artist and author, Gwenda Turner, written about this pair of remarkable animals. Briefly, the story is this: McIntosh daughter, Bianca, has an empathic fondness for animals. (She is now a veterinarian.) One evening on her way to a party, the 18-year old Bianca spied a piece of gray fluff at the road side. She stopped and picked up a tiny kitten with its eyes still mostly closed. She tucked the kitten into the breast pocket of her shirt (hence the cat's name), and Pocket was off to his first party. Arriving back at home, Penny, the family Jack Russell terrier, became very energized on seeing the kitten. She picked Pocket up and carried him back to her basket. Kate thought nature was about to take care of the kitten. But she hadn't anticipated what Penny was going to do. Penny adopted the kitten, allowing it to nurse. After a couple days, Penny, who had had a couple of litters, began producing milk. Even though Pocket's nourishment needed to be supplemented, Penny continued to nurse and mother the kitten, and Pocket thrived. Of course the novelty of a dog nursing a kitten made the newspapers and that is how the book titled Penny and Pocket came to be written. Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

Lift a glass to Central Otago

Kia Ora!

We knew we were going to the Queenstown area but couldn't agree on what to do there. I wanted to do the tourist sites like ride the old-timey steam ship, take the gondola to the top of the mountain above Queenstown, and maybe, if I dare, do a bungy jump. Bungy jumping originated in the South Sea Islands where indigenous young males tied jungle vines around their ankles and leaped head first off a platform in the trees. Some survived; some didn't. Commercial bungy jumping started in New Zealand in 1988 near Queenstown, when an enterprising A. J. Hackett created a bungy jump from a bridge over the Kawarau River. I am put off by hanging from my ankles, which can't take any more abuse than they already have.

Main Street Arrowtown

France? No, Chard in NZ

On the other hand, The Kiwi Consort wanted nothing to do with the tourist mecca of Queenstown. He wanted to visit the quaint town of Arrowtown. In the end, I couldn't get two nights lodging in Queenstown, so after one night at a pricey place on the edge of Q-town, we went to Arrowtown. We booked a wine tour of Central Otago vineyards. This area can grow both whites and reds well because of the dry climate and variations in altitude from sea level to high in the foothills. We visited four, mostly outstanding, vineyards and ate lunch at Carrick winery. A favorite was Peregrine Vineyard where the architecture was designed to resemble the wing of the bird, which by the way is an American bird. There are native falcons but no Peregrine falcons in NZ. Chard Winery looked for all the world like it should be set in the French countryside. As the tour leader headed back, she stopped at the bungy jump. We all watched as a young woman, teetered at the edge of the bridge, waiting...waiting...waiting... Then she backed out and didn't jump. I was not tempted to hang by my ankles over the river.

Arrowtown, where we found a lovely little motel, is as quaint as its reputation. Dating from the era of gold mining, we walked through the portion of the town settled by the Chinese miners seeking their fortunes. Nearly all were men who were in the area for one thing only, and that was gold. When European miners left as the alluvial gold appeared to be gone, the Chinese managed to glean more from the rivers and sent their profits home to China, where most returned when the gold was depleted. We walked through the remnants of the Chinese village tucked in the shadow of the mountain. Each stone and tin hut had a fireplace for heating.

Remains of Chinese Village

The Long Drop

In front of the Chinese general store was the doorless "long drop". I wonder if the entire village used just the one?


Cheers,

Kiwi Traveler

Rugby

Kia Ora! We have been to two rugby games. Rugby Southland, a local support organization, had a deal. Buy a game ticket and they would provide a free bus to the game in Dunedin. We continue to check out the things the Kiwis love - like harness racing and now rugby. This seemed like a good opportunity so we bought tickets. Saturday afternoon we boarded the bus at the Ascot Park Hotel along with about 50 other people. Dunedin is 3 hours each way so it was a big time investment. We arrived at Carisbrook Stadium at 6:30 PM, one hour before kickoff, and time for "dinner" before the game. The Kiwi Consort brought a PB&J (peanut butter and jelly) sandwich from home, scoffing at the junk food served in such venues. My feeling is that the ambiance, including the junk food, is part of the whole experience. Remembering hot dogs at baseball games, I opted for game food. I ordered a hot dog. I was taken back when I was handed a corn dog, with the option of having the top dipped in a spicy sauce. Obviously the concept of hot dog is something else here. It was greasy enough to keep me from feeling hunger all night. Some of our busmates reappeared wearing war paint to support their team. One man had a wooden sword, fake vest, and a cape in team colors. And he was our age! The Southland Highlanders were playing the Chieftains. There was some silly pregame entertainment. When the Chieftains appeared on the field, so did a large muscular long haired man wearing only a kilt and boots and waving a large sword. He is the archetypal Highlander brandishing his sword at the "enemy". He circled their huddle menacingly. I kept trying to apply American football terminology and concepts to the game, but it just doesn't translate. Rugby moves a lot faster, and the players do not wear protective gear. Scrums are frequent in which 3 players from each side lock arms over the shoulders and face each other. They crouch down and the entire rest of the team on each side circles in back of the front 3, all of them holding on to each other. Then it is like a reverse tug of war, each side pushing against the other. Eventually, the ball squirts out the side from somewhere in the scrum, a player from the side where it emerges grabs it and runs like the devil is behind him. And the devil is, in the form of every member of the opposing team. Quickly the guy with the ball laterals it to another player. He runs until pursuing players threaten to tackle him and laterals it to someone else and so on. Or so it appeared. There was a lot of kicking the ball back and forth. All in all, this was a pretty back and forth, lackluster game won by the Highlanders on two penalty kicks. The Highlanders and their fans were psyched. They are a bit of a losing team this season. After we had purchased these tickets, our friend and colleague Kate McIntosh informed us the Highlanders were playing the next week in Invercargill. I wished she had told us that before we got the tickets for the Dunedin game. Not to worry, she said, we could go again and she would provide the tickets. And so the next week we were back at the stadium with Kate and Alistair McIntosh, in Invercargill. We ate at home before the game; the food was better. The game was more exciting even though the Highlanders came out short this time. The younger fans participated in sword play after the game. Kate and Alistair's son Jamie is a "prop" for the national team, the All Blacks. A prop is comparable to the center in football. He is the big middle man in the front of the scrum. When the All-Blacks are off season, he plays for the Highlanders. But he is currently injured, so his job is to give a little personal attention to the high flyers in box seats. That wasn't us, but I met Jamie and got my picture taken with him, as promised. I think that about does it for the sports. There doesn't seem to be any local cricket though the national team keeps getting creamed by the Indians (Go, Indians!) right now. Netball and basketball are out of season. And the big golf tournament in Queenstown is over. Tiger wasn't here but a bunch of lower ranking Americans showed well. Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

The weather ... again

Kia Ora! We've had some really nice weather. The sun was warm and bright, the temperature reached 24 (felt like about 70F) for at least 3 days. I guess that was summer. And then we got another of those four-seasons-in-one-day days, which introduced a spate of weather that warned of the approaching winter. Snow fell at 600 metres, we got sleet, rain, strong winds, and a short spot of sun. Everyone says this has been a cool summer. Hear that as an understatement. My shorts haven't come out for wearing yet making me wonder why I brought them. Even at best, I recognize that this far south, the climate is temperate minus, which gives rise to several wry observations on the part of the people who live here. To wit: "If you can't see the mountains, it is raining. If you can see the mountains, it's going to rain." "If it rains before 10 (AM), the sun will shine by 2 (PM)." (Sam quoted Grandmother Carol: "Rain before 7, sun by 11.") And here is a poem written by Kiwi Anonymous: Southland Weather It rained and it rained and it rained and it rained; the average fall was well maintained, and when the tracks were simply bogs, it started raining cats and dogs. After a drought of half an hour we had a most refreshing shower, and then the most curious thing of all: a gentle rain began to fall. Next day was also fairly dry, save for the deluge from the sky, which wetted the party to the skin, and after that the rain set in. Cheers, Kiwi Traveler

Sam comes for a visit

Kia Ora! From Wanaka, about a 2 hour drive away, backpacker Sam hitchhiked to Invercargill and came to visit on Saturday last. We thoroughly enjoyed this 21-year old grand nephew, son of Steve and Wendy Kvale and grandson of Bill and Carol Kvale. Sam is a man with a mission to learn organic methods to produce and consume healthy food and protect the environment. (Perhaps he inherited a "green thumb" from his paternal grandmother?) He is in New Zealand as a WWOOFER (World Wide Opportunities On Organic Farms, http://www.google.com/search?q=wwoof&rls=com.microsoft:en-us:IE-SearchBox&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&sourceid=ie7&rlz=1I7PCTA_en). WWOOF is an international movement connecting volunteers with small organic growers to promote sustainable ways of living. Wwoofers work on farms or small acreages many places in the world for room and board, often as a means of traveling on the cheap. In this case, Sam contracts himself as a laborer on Southland organic farms to learn the principles of composting and permaculture. He has come to the right place to do so. New Zealand seriously promotes ways to preserve this mostly pollution-free, incredibly beautiful country and its creatures, unique in evolutionary history. The weekend Sam spent with us, he was on holiday between locations. We started with a trip to the Sunday morning Farmer's Market, where we purchased fresh organic produce, cheeses (a favorite for Sam), fresh seafood, and lamb. I don't think it is my imagination that these products taste better than the usual run at the supermarkets. Later we drove to the seaport of Bluff to buy the first oysters of the season. Bluff oysters are famed over the entire country for their delicious flavour. But the oyster outlet was closed, and we learned that the oyster boats had not yet returned. No oysters until Monday. So we visited the local seafarer's museum, which included climbing on and into a retired oyster boat. In the galley, Sam found a girlfriend. Lacking oysters, we treated ourselves to Devonshire tea and scones at the LandsEnd restaurant. From our window table we watched the oyster boats returning to port, one after the other, all heavy with their harvest and low in the water. Such irony! We came to get oysters, but had to be satisfied watching oyster boats coming back to port. Bluff is named for the high bluff that rises behind the village. Despite the cloud covering the top of the bluff, we drove all the way to the top for Sam to pose on a rock. Fall is coming, so Monday morning I borrowed the hospice car and Sam and I drove to the thrift shops to find him some warm clothing. Now, I know most of these shops well from my own forays for warm clothing before going to Antarctica: the Southland Hospice shop, two Salvation Army shops, St. Vincent de Paul, Methodist, as well as the private ones. But after just 3 shops and 2 purchases, Sam was done. An endurance shopper he is not. Sam thought I should check the seafood shops for oysters; he is really keen to taste them. I promised to fix him oysters when he returns. That is called providing incentive. Then I drove Sam to Riverton to his next job. We found the place easily enough, though Sam seemed uneasy because it is very close to the center of the town. The short driveway was overhung with shrubs and trees and a bit spooky. Bins and other equipment was strewn about the path to the door. I was uneasy too. The door was answered by a young woman who looked to be about Sam's age. "Come on in," she said with a distinct American accent. "I'm from Utah and I'm a Wwoofer too." Sam did not need a second invitation. (Just in case, we checked with our friends from Riverton, who had high praise for the family Sam is staying with.) Cheers, Kiwi Traveler PS I did go and get oysters when I got back to Invercargill, and they were fantastic! I honestly believe they are the best I have ever tasted. KT

Our Invercargill home

Kia Ora!

Date: October, 2009

We arrived in Invercargill via Air New Zealand at 7:30 PM. Three lovely women were awaiting our arrival: Nicki Kitson, the hospice CEO; Kate McIntosh, the nursing supervisor; and Judith the spiritual director. Jim and I each had two large pieces of luggage and it two cars to move us and those cases from the airport. After "tea", as the evening meal is called here, at Jagz, Nicki drove us to the house that will be our home for the next 6 months.

The house is unexpectedly lovely and large, with 4 bedrooms. It appears to have been recently completely redecorated: new carpet, wall covering, drapes and bed linens. Three smaller bedrooms, hooks for outerwear and a large bathroom are off a corridor as one enters the front door. The next section of the house is the kitchen and dining area opening to an outdoor patio on the north side and into a formal parlour on the east. Proceeding west is what appears to be a later addition of a small bathroom, tiny office, and large master bedroom which also opens out to the patio.

The patio extends into a large garden (yard) extending back 2 lots with with 2 small glass houses (though one is plastic), as they are commonly called. More about the grounds in another post. For now, I think we will be very comfortable here.

Cheers,

Kiwi Traveler

Out of pollution and into the ozone gap

Kia Ora!


Hey, check out this article from the Washington Post newspaper. I wonder if this family has checked out the status of the diminishing ozone layer.

Americans are fleeing in the face of environmental shifts and pollution. A couple days ago, the Kiwi Consort thought he might like to move here. He too thinks the air is cleaner. KC keeps looking for more locum tenems jobs in New Zealand. He thinks he might like to relocate here permanently. Hmmmm. And leave our 5 children and their families including 6 grandchildren? I don't think so.

Cheers,
Kiwi Traveler