Showing posts with label Our Places. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Our Places. Show all posts
18 August 2015

Girls Weekend in Wellington

Girls weekend in wellington

I'm an Auckland girl through and through, but I have to take my hat off to Wellington - the Windy City really did show us a good time this weekend.

Six of us "girls" (three mums, three cheerleading daughters) packed our bags and took off in a rainstorm, with a bit of trepidation (i.e. "if the weather's this bad in Auckland, how will we ever land in Wellington???") heading for the National cheerleading competition in our nation's capital.

Imagine our surprise when we touched down and - no wind. No rain. Eek, is that the sun??? Imagine!


09 February 2015

The Best Little Country in the World is my Home


Sometimes it takes a fresh perspective to realise what you've got. This summer we have been playing New Zealand tour guides, showing our aunty and uncle from England the glories of our little country. This amazing, beautiful unique country that I can so easily take for granted...


The clean water and stunning scenery. The green grass and warm sunshine. The easy-going friendly Kiwis who just love to welcome newcomers and show them why NZ really is Godzone (i.e. God's Own Country).




Our barefooted children (apparently if kids walked to school in bare feet in England like they do here, social services would be called and it would be neglect, but here we call it FREEDOM).

Our lack of pretension and the way we all dress so casually EVERYWHERE, and how this is normal. And no one looks at you funny for slopping about in shorts and "jangles" (hehe, Aunty Irene, it's "Jandals" i.e. "Japanese Sandals").



The way we can all swim. Everyone. Ever heard of a Kiwi who can't swim? Me neither. Another thing we take for granted.



Our deliciously warm-but-not-too-hot summers. (And this one's been particularly good after a rather shaky start. But we won't mention December).



We have been wanting family from England to come and see our little slice of paradise for years, but it's such a long way, only Grandma was willing to make the journey... until now. 
Hubby's Aunty and Uncle planned what they thought would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip this summer, and we knew we had to pull out all the stops, make them fall in love with the place so they'll go home raving about it and MORE rellies will come visit.

Our plan is working - they are besotted. And even talking about maybe coming back and seeing the South Island next time...



They've been to Waiheke Island, Taupo, Rotorua, Mt Maunganui, Pauanui/Coromandel, Back to Auckland, spent a day on a boat moored off Motutapu and now have headed up to the Bay of Islands/Paihia.

And oh what fun we've had trying to teach our aunty how to say the Maori words!
Mt Maunganui = Mt Monnagooey/Mt moowagonny. Pauanui = Pannanooey/Poowarney. Waihi = Wee-eye. The lists goes on. Hehe. So cute, these tourists.



As I've driven around the place, telling stories, explaining the meaning of names, talking about the history, it's made me realise (a) how much I know about my country and how many Maori words I've absorbed in my lifetime and (b) how much MORE I want to know and understand. I've even (just quietly) considered finding a wee course in Te Reo.

I've begun to realise just how much our laid-back, friendly Kiwi culture owes it's thanks to our tangata whenua - our Maori people. Maori have a graciousness, a warmth, a generosity of spirit; they traditionally value people more than things and family above all. When you meet a Maori person, the first question is "Who are your people/where are you from?" not "what job do you do?" like us Pakeha.



Sure things have gotten messed up and Maori feature too heavily in all the wrong statistics, but it's my impression that this happens when they lose their sense of where they belong, their land, and their people.

Sometimes we Pakeha can feel awkward and vaguely guilty around Waitangi Day. It's meant to be our national day, but usually any celebrations are overshadowed by protests and shouts of "honour the Treaty!"

This year after playing tour guide all summer, I've found myself yearning to understand my country and my history better. The more I've talked about New Zealand to our beloved tourists, the more I've wanted to really know.



I recorded Mike King's series "Lost in Translation" (on Maori TV, Waitangi Day) and spent the last day or so watching every episode back-to-back. It was a beautiful thing.

Did you know that there wasn't just one Treaty signing? There were nine sheets sent out all around New Zealand. I didn't know that.

There was a lot I didn't know, but watching Mike King's (most excellent) programme I learned a lot. It gave me a sense that as country we have a truly unique and special history, which I want to learn more about.

Yes mistakes have been made, but as the programme showed, the spirit of the Treaty was well intended. I can be proud of our country's foundations. And I want to understand and honour the people who were here in this beautiful place first.



My ancestors came here fleeing poverty and repression in Ireland way way back in the 1840's. I am grateful they found a place here.



One of my ancestors on my dad's side was a nurse called Charlotte Speedy, and I'm told she nursed a Maori chief back to health from his death-bed and was made an honorary member of the tribe. I'm now on a mission to find out which chief, and which tribe. I would love to think that my little family could have ties to the "people of the land" ... honorary or not.



It's a stunning country. And in my humble opinion? The best little country in the world. (And I think our tourists would agree with me).

........

BEST KIWI SONG EVER: "WELCOME HOME"
Dave Dobbyn's song sums it all up perfectly...



Kiwis: What do YOU love most about Enzed?
You other poor buggers: When are you coming over?

25 July 2012

WW: The Best Things in Life are Free

[Source]

Biggest Loser came to New Zealand last year. They brought the whole bunch of contestants and trainers DownUnder to Kiwi Land. Then they took them up the Sky Tower and told them to jump off. 
(If you're not a Biggest Loser fan this will slide right on over your head as completely meh).

Bob was here. Up the Sky Tower. In my town.
(If I was on Biggest Loser, I would want Bob as my trainer. In our house we are Bob's people.)
(Sorry I know this information is way old, but we get shows very late here in little ole NZ)

ANYHOO...


...on Saturday we went up the Sky Tower too.
The kids had been saving up their stickers and (after watching Biggest Loser) picked the Sky Tower as their family prize destination.


It's not cheap. But the view is great.

So here we are in the tallest building in the Southern Hemisphere. Pointing out landmarks. Looking for our house. Standing on a glass floor...


It took about twenty minutes for the whingeing to start.
"I'm hungry."
"I'm thirsty."
"Why can't we jump off the tower too?"
"Is this the highest bit?"
"When are we going?"
"Can we gooooo noooow???"


A guy jumped. It distracted them for about three minutes.

We gave up trying to stretch out our stay and took the elevator back to the ground, shaking our heads.
Bought pies, went to the park. For free.

Of course they loved it and didn't want to leave.
Just goes to show. Some things can't be bought.



And the best things in life are still free.



20 February 2012

Dreams are Free


I've just returned from a weekend in Heaven.
Not the celestial one, of course, but someplace a little bit closer to home.
Sandy Bay. A little slice of Kiwi Paradise on earth.


Unlike celestial heaven's golden gleaming, this Kiwi paradise is laced with seaweed and cobwebs, but it is paradise nonetheless.

The sort of place I dream of living One Day.

Going to sleep with the sound of the waves crashing.
Waking to the call of gulls, as the sun peeks in my window, revealing a breathtaking stretch of sea and sand.


I dream of evenings swimming at dusk, walks at sunset collecting driftwood for the fire.
Painting the tides, the sea in all its shades. Writing at a desk overlooking the ocean.



I can imagine wild winter nights, storms crashing as firelight flickers.


Summer days in the shade if the pohutukawa, watching grandchildren climb and run and splash.
Did I say grandchildren?


Yes. I'm figuring this dream might be some time in coming.
I'm not asking for a mansion, just a cottage by the sea, with enough room for loved ones to come and share weekends and holidays.


I will need internet connection of course. A telephone line.



"It would be very isolated," Mr G cautions me when I speak my dream to him on the return journey.


OK so maybe a Sandy Bay location is a little too far from the rest of the world, but somewhere like that.
A cottage by the sea, me, my honey and internet connection.
What more could a girl want?

Well, dreams are free.

.........................



We had a wonderful weekend at Sandy Bay which is like our home away from home, in technology-free paradise. Mr G went fishing (but caught nothing), the kids were in and out of the water like dolphins. We hosted our Swiss friends and they agreed that Sandy Bay is indeed, heavenly. 




I thought of Gail, and how we had planned to return to Sandy Bay as soon as they return from China. We are still waiting. I hoped for a glimpse of PaisleyJade, but she must have been busy. I was reminded of my first time meeting Leonie, when she wandered up the beach to find us last summer; how we swam together right here.  Sandy Bay is a great place to hang out with friends. 




We didn't want to come home and managed to make a weekend feel like a week. I hope to return to Sandy Bay with Gail before too long. Come home soon, Gail!
31 January 2012

Rite of Passage


This boy just started at Big Kindy.
That's what we call the kindergarten all the kids went to, the last stop before School.
Only Big Boys (and girls) go to Big Kindy.
Big boys who wear undies and go to the toilet by themselves.
At Big Kindy kids stay all day.
We've been on the waiting list for a while, and finally it's our turn.


Here is Scrag on his first day. The first day of the last stop before I have no more littlies at home.
{Time to start working on my Resume...?}

We have an association with our local kindergarten stretching back over nearly seven years.
The first one to go to Big Kindy was Dash...

Dash on his First day at Big Kindy, November 2005
This is a real community kindergarten.We made friends there for life, people we still hang out with.
It was on a day when I was early for kindy that I spotted the home that would become ours, as I cruised the block looking at For Sale signs and dreaming...

Miss Fab started going when she turned three. Her best friend from kindy is now her best friend at school... the little sister of one of Dash's Big Kindy friends.

Miss Fab on her First day at Big Kindy, July 2007

My Big Kindy pals were the first to hear that Scrag was on the way. In fact it was them who suggested I better go home and take a pregnancy test when I told them I was feeling squeemish and had a metallic taste in my mouth...

I could not have imagined how fast the years would fly by; how the tiny speck in my belly would become a big boy off to Big Kindy himself, in the blink of an eye...

Scrag on his First day at Big Kindy, January 2012

Its the beginning of the end of an era.
*sniff*
18 January 2012

Just Down the Road


Just down the road from where I live, there is a beach.
It's not famous for golden sand or big waves.
Its not famous at all.


The name is not synonymous with sandcastles and sunbathing
{more like mud flats and rock pools}
I wouldn't swim there, no way.


But let me tell you a little secret...
That was Before.


Before the council dumped a load of sand, and made a sandy shore.
And Before the tide came in.


At low tide the mud flats and rock pools reign
But at high tide our humble beach is transformed
The clear water laps at the sand, beckoning the timid.
Calling to me, "Why didn't you bring your swimsuit, silly girl?"


I want to rush and dive headlong into that beckoning sea.


Its perfect now for sailing...



Sailing boats of all kinds...


...perfect for digging holes that fill up magically with the sea.


Darn it! Why O Why did I not bring my togs?
I seem to have brought everything else...


The captain of the Orange ship returns
Come on, he calls. Jump on!


I can't resist.
Too bad about the No Togs and the Wet Bum.
Who cares?
The ocean is calling to me and I surrender...


With the dip of paddles and slosh of waves, we slide past the shore.
Its great! I finally went out on Daddy's kayak and I Love Love Love it.
Can't wait for the next high-tide sunny day...
{this time I'll be bringing my togs*.}
..................

and
 then, she {snapped}


Our secret gem beach is Pt Chevalier, easy Biking distance from home - or Five minutes drive. Love. {This time we were there with my sweet friend Maya and her family, all the way from England}


*Togs = Kiwinese for "swimsuit"