Sunday 30 October 2011

NZ South Island - Picton to Methven


I took the Interislander ferry across to the South Island. It was a blissful 3 hours of sailing on the Marlborough Sounds and through the Cook Strait over to Picton. That's the famous Capt James Cook, if you were wondering. He passed through the Strait as he circumnavigated North Island. On his third voyage around these parts, he sent 10 of his crew to collect scurvy grass from Arapawa Island in the strait but they were ambushed, killed and eaten by local Maori. Thankfully the locals have since lost their appetite for cannibalism after introduction to Christianity (though some missionaries took one for the team).

Marlborough Sounds
If you're expecting a city like Wellington on the other side of the Strait then be disappointed. The ferry terminal at Picton is the only real attraction if you exclude the bizarre Dutch bakery. There are more rental car agencies than any other business, ideal for people who needed to pick up a car directly from the ferry. Once I got my Nissan Sunny (again... but this time brown/gold and manual transmission) I headed straight for Renwick in the centre of the Marlborough wine region. Wasting no time I hired a bicycle and made a bee-line to the nearby vineyards for free tastings. There are tens of wineries within cycling distance producing everything from the standard Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir (by the end I was tired of hearing "this is not your typical Malborugh Sav") to the more unusual Montepulciano, Syrah and fake Champagne. Being an almost exclusive red wine drinker I took this as an education and the tasting staff were happy to oblige. Later in the afternoon my bike started wobbling and wouldn't go in a straight line. Obviously a mechanical fault.


The next day, nursing a delicate head, I drove the short distance down the east coast to Kaikoura. I thought the North Island scenery was spectacular but it was nothing in comparison to the South. You don't have to expend any effort to get to the most beautiful places. Merely travelling down the main highway you see snow-capped mountains rising almost directly from the sea, and deserted black-sand beaches.
East coast beach, near Kaikoura
Kaikoura was a whaling station from the mid-1800s but before that the Maori had built stepped defences (pa) on the peninsula. Along the peninsula you see geology at its rawest. Over time and lots of seismic activity, the seabed was bent, buckled and lifted to form the peninsula, and in the last 125,000 years or so has been cut by wave action to its present state, with layers of sea-floor shunted into unnatural angles.
Seafloor uplifts, Kaikoura peninsula
Kaikoura peninsula - can easily see the two major seafloor levels here
I drove south to Akaroa on the Banks Peninsula and on to Christchurch. I'd originally planned on staying in the city for a night, people were telling me that the city was slowly rebuilding after the recent earthquakes but once I got there and saw the damage I decided against it. The city was  heavily damaged in the Sept '10 earthquake and is still reeling from aftershocks, the most deadly was back in February this year where 181 people lost their lives. National radio stations are all still broadcasting messages of support and there are plenty of fundraisers for the reconstruction. Many roads in the city centre are closed while dangerous buildings are being torn down, and city streets have become a maze, making navigation very tricky. I stopped in a mall for a coffee and only half the shops were open, the rest pending refurbishment. While I had a morbid fascination with the place I decided to head inland to the little town of Methven, which would be dead were it not for its proximity to the slopes of Mt Cook. As the ski season was coming to an end, the town was a little quiet. I asked around if there was any free wifi in town and was told that the only cafe that did it fell down in the earthquake. I tried in the pub:


"Do you have wifi?"


"Not heard of that, ay. We've only got what you see on tap".


Friday 21 October 2011

NZ North Island 2 - Rotorua to Wellington

Te Whakarewarewa Thermal Area, Rotorua

 I mentioned in the last post that I stayed in Ruakaka because it was "convenient". I should have phrased it "I stayed [35km] south of Whangarei as it was the nearest available bed to the stadium". As luck would have it, it was one of the friendliest B&Bs I've stayed in so far. After a mighty breakfast and some casual internet surfing (who would have guessed that this would be my only free wifi in NZ accommodation... Asia puts NZ to shame in that respect), I made the long drive south to Rotorua in the heart of North Island.


Rotorua is a geothermal hotspot, home to bubbling mudpools, hot springs and some terrific geysers. The town itself is so thermally active that it actually smells eggy from the sulphur. Kuirau park in the town centre happily steams and bubbles and many parts are roped off so you don't accidently step in boiling water. These range from large steaming pools to small discolourations in the soil or bleaching of nearby bushes. It most recently "erupted" in 2003, covering the park in mud, and it was an odd feeling wandering through, knowing that there's so much energy lurking just under the surface.


I visited Rotorua's star attraction, Te Whakarewarewa, a thermal reserve just outside town. The most famous geyser here is Pohutu which erupts around 20 times a day and can reach 30m tall.


Bubbling mudpool, Te Whakarewarewa

Te Puia, Te Whakarewarewa
The entrance fee included a free Maori culture show (another one...). This time there was audience participation and I was forced up on stage to do a haka. Why is it always me? I basically had no choice because you just don't say no to Maori. The guys that are too big to be All Blacks go into nightclub security and I have never seen people as huge. Seriously, you just wouldn't mess.


The following day I took a drive around Tongariro National Park and through to Lake Taupo, NZ's largest lake. It was a stunning drive, made way longer than it should have been as I stopped every 10 minutes to take pictures. There was a slight hairy moment when I almost ran out of fuel... I'd told myself to refill before the tank reaches 1/4 but (a) the car wasn't very fuel efficient, (b) had a small tank, (c) was automatic, so aside from putting it in neutral down the hills I couldn't really do much else to conserve it, and (d) petrol stations were often more than 50km apart, if you knew where to look. Luckily I stumbled on a tiny petrol station in the National Park, but if that had been closed (as a lot of them are) I would have been screwed.


Mt Ruapehu from the Desert Road
Driving through North Island made me think that New Zealand would make a great golf course. The whole place seems sculpted for that very purpose, with smooth contours and hills that roll even more than England's. There's a terrific amount of open space - a country roughly the size of the UK but with a population of only 4.4 million (the old adage of "more sheep than people" is still true but I'm told that it's getting much more comparable). I also heard that there's around 5.5 million NZ passports, which is certainly believable given the number of them living in South West London. It's almost a rite of passage for a New Zealander to study abroad or just travel the world, which is fair enough given how geographically isolated the country is. Some emigrate across "the ditch" to Australia but Kiwis generally believe that this increases the average IQ of both countries.


From Taupo I drove south (one speeding ticket later, oops...) to Wellington, one of the coolest cities in NZ. Wellington has some great bars and cafes considering its size (only roughly 165,000 people) and a gorgeous location on the southern tip of the North Island, looking out over the Marlborough Sounds. Here I said goodbye to the Sunny, watched the Scotland vs Argentina game and hopped on an early morning ferry across Cook Straight to South Island.


Wellington Civic Square


Saturday 8 October 2011

NZ North Island - Auckland to Whangarei

Auckland at night
I had been looking forward to getting out of the heat and humidity of the last 3 months in Asia and into the NZ springtime, but on landing at Auckland International I realised I was under-prepared for the temperatures. With gritted teeth I walked out of the plane in a T-shirt. Where had my Northern roots gone? It was only 15 degrees, I used to be able to do winter nights out in Sheffield in just a T-shirt.


I was just one of thousands travelling to New Zealand for the Rugby World Cup and the excitement in the country was evident. The guy at passport control chatted with me (talked at me) for 10 minutes about England's fly half problems while people waited in line behind.


NZ is a special place and I hadn't really appreciated it until passing through customs. There are signs all over warning of the risks to NZ's delicate habitat. Bringing in fruit and vegetables is prohibited and even hiking boots need to be declared, as they may be coated in soil that can contaminate the native environment. This delicate environment is mostly due to NZ's relative isolation from continental landmasses. When the supercontinent Gondwana started to split around 180 million years ago dinosaurs ruled Earth. NZ and Australia gradually moved away from the supercontinent and their isolation allowed evolution to run its course almost independently. As a result there are no mammals native to NZ, except for bats and marine mammals. Some native birds lost their ability to fly as they simply didn't need it. Until mammals were brought over by the Polynesians and Europeans, these birds had no natural predators. Authorities in NZ take the preservation of NZ's natural environment very seriously.


I spent two days in Auckland, watching rugby all afternoon and adjusting to the new timezone and climate by buying ales and warm jumpers. Auckland museum had some good exhibits but its in-house Maori cultural show was pretty cheesy. I treated myself to some western food in restaurants with menus with words like "jus" and "reduction". Bliss.


I picked up my hire car - a white, automatic, Nissan Sunny (remember, I'm trying to do this on the cheap) which tracked to the left at low speeds and to the right at high speeds (I'm not even sure that's mechanically possible) - and drove 170 miles north to the Bay of Islands. The main motorway in North Island stretches from Wellington in the south to Cape Reinga in the very north. To call it a motorway is doing it a favour - once you're out of Auckland it's essentially a single lane road.


Bay of Islands
On a good day at Cape Reinga you can actually see the deep blue Pacific and the blue-green Tasman sea mixing together, but as weather wasn't ideal and it was getting late I headed to to Paihia on the northern coast. A picturesque bay but nothing much to see here, just more rugby and great wine and satisfied my cravings for western foods, which by then had moved on to nachos. The hostel had a weird nautical-theme and had a piano right outside my door which we weren't allowed to touch. It's been three months since I dropped mine off in storage and haven't played since. The gods are teasing me.



I planned to skirt through North Island pretty quickly as I've been told by lots of people that the South is amazing. It had taken a while to plan, but I had a rough route in mind which would take in a few World Cup games. The first of which was Japan vs Tonga in Whangarei. The town itself was very small and accommodation for the game day was totally booked up. The nearest bed I could find was a small village called Ruakaka, about 25 miles from the stadium.
game.


The game was terrific. Not many Japanese are aware that their country was competing but the supporters who made it over were fanatical. North Island as has a huge Pacific Islander community so this made for a terrific atmosphere, and all the more exciting when the stadium caught fire - mild panic only started when the tanoy announced that "the fire was under control" and fans turned round to see the 5 metre flames for the first time.


Sipi Tau, the "Tongan Haka"

Not a great pic, but there's the little fire if you don't believe me

Monday 3 October 2011

Singapore



Singapore officially marked the end of my trip through SE Asia and while I've not exactly been slumming it in the rest of Asia, I was looking forward to some home comforts in this westernised oasis. Steph kindly offered to put me up at her place and knowing that I was starting to crave dairy products, had stocked the kitchen with cheeses, milk and yogurts, and other western delights. My first evening in Singapore was spent with a plate of fish and chips and a bottle of tempranillo, which wasn't exactly top quality wine but in comparison to the Hardy's and Jacob's Creek offered as fine wine in other restaurants in Asia it was like a bunch of naked girls fighting on my tongue.


Turns 22,23 of the Singapore Grand Prix
However, delicacies like these come at a price. Drinking and eating out here is on a par with Scandinavian prices, although I'm told that prices drop significantly outside the expat bubble. Many people come to work in Singapore on good company packages, expensing their rent, utility bills, transport costs etc., to the point where their actual salary goes straight into the bank... or into the nightlife, so the bars and restaurants can afford to jack up the prices in the Central Business District. I had expected Singapore to be like Hong Kong, but it felt much more developed. HK had a grittier edge to it, whereas Singapore's streets were sparklingly clean, bars were swankier and people seemed to be more connected with the nightlife scene.


Singapore is definitely a social city. Expats know that their neighbours will only live there for a couple of years seeing out their contracts and then move on, so that generates a friendly atmosphere. Business moves quickly here and bars and restaurants, like their patrons, are transient. If your place doesn't get the cache quickly then it's pretty much over. What's the point in building a legacy if your customers move away after a couple of years?


Central Business District waterfront

But it's not just the expats that are tuned into business. The locals are industrious and entrepreneurial. My taxi driver gave me a motivational speech on the way to the airport: "Singapore is the land of opportunity; every business is a people business...". There's definitely a buzz about this place and when you see the construction projects and optimism here, you really get the feeling that the recession has largely missed this tiny country.


Marina Bay Sands Hotel
As for sightseeing, my few days in Singapore were largely based in the centre around Steph's beautiful apartment, so unfortunately I didn't really get to experience Singaporean local life, but I wasn't complaining. With Top Gear on the telly, an on-site swimming pool and calcium back in my bones I really couldn't have been happier. My one regret was not scheduling my trip around the Singapore Grand Prix, which was held only a few days after I left the city. However I had my heart set on being in NZ for the Rugby World Cup and I wasn't thinking straight. 
From the viewing deck atop the Marina Bay Sands hotel you could see pretty much all of the Grand Prix circuit and out to Indonesia (and to Malaysia on a good day!). Wonderful views of this stunning city.

My evenings were spent drinking over at Arab St., a funky neighbourhood with Middle-Eastern and North African restaurants and cool cocktail bars. When we went clubbing at Zouk, Gilles Peterson jumped on the decks and the locals started dancing in orderly lines, all facing the front. The streets were littered with wasted locals who had underestimated their alcohol tolerance. Both reminders that I was still, very firmly, in Asia.