Rainbow’s End

I had planned to just reach Taupo, four hours north of Wellington. There, I would find a night’s accommodation, wake to a sunrise over the lake and then slowly creep into Auckland for the business of international flying.

That was the plan.

Instead, after breakfast, I wandered about Wellington searching for a new backpack. The one I had purchased last year in Victoria, B.C. gave up the ghost when Dan and I were wandering around in Te Papa. Although I eventually found one — a garish yellow color and emblazoned with a huge Nike logo — somewhere over the period of the search I decided to do it. To drive 8 hours to Auckland.

In hindsight, it was a good decision. The southern towns and hills of the North Island were awash in rain showers all afternoon. Nice. A strong rain, as I learned from my Greymouth to Nelson trip, makes it easier to stop the i-should-haves, as in “I should have hiked to the top of Victoria” or “I should have stopped to view the falls.”

I stopped every two hours to stretch my legs and to nibble at the food stands. I enjoyed a very tasty chicken kabab pita in a little town called Bulls. The restaurant owner also happened to own a large, brass Indian elephant bell of the type that I have been collecting. It was an exquisite one. He wouldn’t let me buy it off of him, and the antique shop on the corner didn’t have any more. Bummer. In Taupo, I stopped for the loo and wolfed down the baklava that I purchased at the kabab place. Damn, that was yummy. Outside of Hamilton, a couple hours north of Taupo, I pulled off the highway and ate at KFC, known locally as “Kiwi for Chicken.” LOL, it tasted like the same Kentucky-fried of my youth though!

With the rain, there was little I could note of the passing scenery south of Taupo. But just before Taupo, the sun burst through the clouds and created a spectacular rainbow. I whooped like I’d never seen one.

In the last stretch of highway coming into Auckland, the signs for the airport also announce “Rainbow’s End.” It turns out that Rainbow’s End is Auckland’s theme park, with rollercoasters, bumper cars and cotton candy. I prefer to think of the sign as I first imagined it: my notice that my lovely vacation is at an end.

There is a lot I want to say here: about the way that thoughts of work wormed their way into my dreams last night, about what “going home” means for a woman who recently left her marriage, about what I would have done differently in this trip, about my thoughts of a future living abroad… Lots to say.

But it is 7:30 a.m. here in Auckland and the city demands that I pay attention. I have to go move my car.

See you all soon.

Wellington with Dan

Wellington, like any urban center, is a parking nightmare. I woke at 5 a.m. yesterday and every hour thereafter, worried about moving my car from the street and into the garage. Well, at least I was ready for the day to begin.

Car safely stowed, I joined the bustle of downtown in search of breakfast. Despite the number of commuters in their cars, on the bus or on foot, there actually weren’t many breakfast spots open at that hour. I eventually found another Caffe L’affare (who knew they were a chain?) and settled in for a yummy breakfast and more of Desirable Daughters.

My only “to do” item for the day was to finally meet Dan Mortimer. When I was using the internet over at Base Backpackers in Auckland, I saw a post there from Dan, who was looking for a ride south. By the time I had made up my mind to fly rather than drive to Christchurch, he had already made it to Wellington. We kept in touch via email while I bopped around the South Island, with a plan to rendezvous if I made it to Wellington before he departed. I did, so we made plans to meet at Te Papa in the afternoon.

The morning remained my own. Despite the guidebooks warning that the walk to the Botanical Gardens required oxygen and a base camp, I was eager for the walk. I had also eaten a rather generous breakfast and really *needed* the walk. Still, I took plenty of little breaks on my 40 minute hike into the hills, occasionally harassing passersby for clarification on my direction. I saw the Wellington Cable Car cruise up on its tracks and resisted the urge to scurry to its platform for a lift. I walked on.

The Botanical Gardens are certainly worth the trek. It is expansive, with two hiking trails passing through, a children’s playground, a treehouse information center, an old observatory, the Cable Car Museum, and all the green-growth that you could desire. I particularly loved the succulents garden worked into a hillside terrace and the California redwood towering next to the information center. (Damn, I need to get back out to the U.S. West Coast.)

I rode the cable car back into town (charming!) and walked from the end station back to Wildlife House. They didn’t have any singles available when I checked in late on Sunday night, so I was sharing a dorm with three other women. This was the first time during my trip that I have and, urgh, never again. One of the women, Victoria, was great (maybe it’s the name, Vicki?), but the other women were rather cold. And one of them made little eating noises in her sleep that *just* grossed me out. Wildlife had a single opening up, so I moved into it, took a shower and headed out for lunch before meeting Dan. (Mmmm, chicken tikka masala and onion kulcha. Oh, life is swell.)

Speaking of swell, Dan Mortimer is too. (If you have found my blog, Dan, feel free to correct me on my details.) Dan and I had no trouble meeting each other in Te Papa. (There are not a lot of dreadheaded black women in Wellington.) Dan is a 32 year old, blonde Brit from Weymouth. Bored with his job training teachers in IT and getting over a heartbreak, he decided to chuck it all for the beauty of New Zealand. He applied for residency before leaving the U.K., but is in the country, now, on a six-month travel visa. He’s not sure if he will make it. Although he sold all his things and did all of the goodbye parties, Dan misses his friends much more than he anticipated. Has he done the right thing? Stay tuned.

More thanks to Neil Tangri for the recommendation: Te Papa is superb! It is New Zealand’s premiere museum, a well-deserved honor. The high ceilings, the layout, the coloring — what a nicely designed space. The displays of Maori artifacts, history and recent political struggle are thoroughly engrossing. There were also exhibits on wool — baa! baa! — the replication of the natural world in architecture, and contemporary art. Although I have enjoyed traveling on my own, it was nice to have Dan there to laugh and talk with about the things I was seeing.

Dan and I wandered about Te Papa for four hours until they kicked us out. (Heck, we only made a dent in the place.) We walked along the waterfront, watching the canoe (kayak) polo team practice their speed in the water and chatting about the other sights that Dan has taken in during his 10-day stay in Wellington.

Dan and I managed to have enough to talk about — family and friends, aspirations, music, travel drama, and more — to carry us through dinner at a yummy (and cheap!) Malaysian restaurant and a shared bottle of wine at a very chic, and very hidden, late-night bar.

For those of you expecting to hear more, what kind of woman do you think I am? (Don’t answer that.) Dan walked me back to Wildlife and, after thanks and goodbye hugs, made his way off into the rain.

It’s time for me to checkout of Wildlife, to rustle up some breakfast and to eventually make my way to Lake Taupo for the evening. I leave for home tomorrow night and, thanks to the beauty of the International Date Line, will be there within four hours of my departure. Not really, but that’s what the clocks will say. Ah, time travel…

Where did the time go?

The countdown begins

I am exhausted. The travel to Wellington took, in total, 8 hours. That was 2 hours driving to Picton to catch the ferry. Then, it was 1.5 hours waiting for the ferry to arrive (it was late). Between loading and unloading cars and on-foot travelers, the ferry consumed another 4.5 hours. Again, I’m exhausted.

Okay, the day had its good points.

Right after checkout (and laundry, ugh), I took a long stroll along the Matai River in Nelson before doing a steep climb up to the “Geographic Center of New Zealand.” The advertising and signage about the Geographic Center of New Zealand (with caps, thank you very much) is more impressive than the site itself. Still, the beauty of the river walk *and* the awesome view of Nelson and Tasman Bay from the hilltop made the two-hour trek worth it.

LOL, isn’t everything here lovely?

I made my way back down into town and grabbed a bite at the (you guessed it) lovely Caffe L’affare, where I had enjoyed a breakfast the day before. If you are traveling in Nelson, I definitely recommend them. Not only are their dishes savory, but their presentation makes you think you are dining at a place billing twice the price. I lingered there for about 2 hours, reading Desirable Daughters, the October assignment for the book group. I just started but, already 100 pages in, I find it pretty compelling reading. For those of you who recently saw Vijai Nathan’s one-woman show, Good Girls Don’t, But Indian Girls Do, at the Takoma Theatre, this book is the same “Hindu woman coming into her own” story but with a lot more detail.

Okay, enough.

It’s 11 p.m. here, and I am fading fast. I’ll skip the details about the showing of The Bourne Supremacy on the ferry or info on my new lodging at Wildlife House for a chance to get some sleep. Let me just say that today is the 3rd, my departure is on the 6th, and the thought of flying home is bumming me out.

Okay, enough. Sleep.

A kayak on the deep blue

Yesterday’s tour of Nelson’s galleries was a real pleasure. The Suter Gallery had an outstanding exhibit called “Handycrafts, at home with textiles,” which had tongue-in-cheek artistic takes on the domestic arts of a 50s housewife. I *loved* the crocheted toilet seat cover! And the harried-looking hen tea cosey (knit) with her baby chick egg coseys was hilarious. The needlepoint sampler on email, laptops and the like — hell, all of the exhibit was inspired. Well done, Suter!

The World of Wearable Art Museum continued that thread (no pun intended). This is an annual show in which artists submit, er, thematic art that can be worn as garments. It’s wild! Vivid colors, crazy materials, and truly inspired designs. Some of the “Bizarre Bra” competitors made me laugh out loud: wolves, boobies (the animals, “these are not boobies”), and the chandelier attachments…This year’s winner, Booby Trap by Hilary & Judy Unwin of Nelson is fantastic! (Women, I think we should make our own theme bras for Halloween this year.) Check out the other winners at www.WorldofWearableArts.com

With a little bit of time before my plans to catch Shark Tale at the cinema, I drove down to Tahunanui Beach. Even at low tide, there were a number of kids playing on the beach as their parents sat by at the cafe enjoying drinks and food. I sipped some tea and read some more of the (still bizarre) Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.

Speaking of bizarre, how about Shark Tale. No, no, it wasn’t the movie itself. It was seeing a movie featuring, predominantly, Black America in a theatre where I am the only Black American. I was pretty sure that most of the cultural references to Car Wash, 70s afros, hip-hop and reggae (including jellyfish tentacles as dreadlocks) were sailing right over people’s heads. And, hey, when I laughed aloud at the Krispy Kreme bag that Oscar (Will Smith) pulls out, nobody else laughed. Hilarious.

Not surprisingly, the offerings of the natural world did nothing but enhance the lovely human-made pleasures of Nelson.

Bright and early this morning, I was off with Kiwi Kayaks for a full day of kayaking and hiking in Abel Tasman National Park. (Thank you, Neil Tangri, for the recommendation.) There were just five of us on the trip: Spencer from Lake Tahoe, Judith from Germany, Avi from Israel, a young Japanese student whose name I am sad to say has already slipped from my brain (Sapa?), and our guide, Locke. After a brief introduction to the gear, the trek and each other, we took out three two-seater kayaks onto the water.

Because this is still off-season for most companies, we were blessedly and amazingly alone on the water. I saw only one other kayak the entire time we were out there. Unfrigginbelieveable.

What an amazing day. We kayaked into four different bays. Locke chatted with us about the coastal scenery, history of the specific islands we passed, wildlife, and (lol) getting better at our stroke technique. We stopped for an early breakfast of tea and biscuits (cookies, for you Americans) and later cruised to our last beach for lunch. Spencer and I then broke off from the other three who were on a tour that sent them higher up the coast, and hiked about 3 hours back to a point near our start. The hike — with views of all the beaches that we had kayaked by — was just glorious.

Spencer kept me in stitches, too, with some great banter about politics, extreme sports (he’s quite the adventurist), family and the like.

Oops, just 10 minutes before I need to ditch this lovely internet shop. Let me sum up as I have before:

Life is good.