It's Capital City! (Wellington)

Sunday, May 15
North Island


We got into Wellington late on Saturday night, checked into our hotel and had some Cajun for dinner. Wellington is not only the capital of New Zealand, it's also a huge university town, and it seemed we'd shown up during graduation. Flocks of drunk, singing graduates roamed the streets wearing all white, and it really took us back to our days at UF. Oh, Gainesville, how we miss our time with you! The more college kids we saw, though, the older we felt. Oh well, we could still enjoy the variety and energy a big university town provides.

This one's for Katie and Nick!

In the morning the rain was coming down pretty hard, so we opted to start the day with the Te Papa National Museum, something recommended constantly in our pre-trip research. Not only was it indoors, it was also free, always a plus.

It wasn't a very far walk from our hotel, so with rain jackets zipped tight, we headed out toward the museum.

We took the route along the waterfront to the museum, stopping a few times to educate ourselves on all the help New Zealand received from other nations of the world during wartimes. This plaque thanks the US Marine Corps, who landed at this spot on the quay in 1942 to lend a hand on the Pacific front.

How can you walk past some Hop-Scotch action and NOT participate? To ignore it would have been disrespectful, sideways rain or not!

We found this quotation especially interesting. If you can't read it, it says, "IT'S TRUE YOU CAN'T LIVE HERE BY CHANCE, YOU HAVE TO DO AND BE, NOT SIMPLY WATCH OR EVEN DESCRIBE. THIS IS THE CITY OF ACTION, THE WORLD HEADQUARTERS OF THE VERB - "

I like it. Shouldn't we all live this way?

 Once we got to Te Papa, we were inundated with history and Maori artifacts, as well as a whole lot of exhibits focusing on everything from New Zealand's wildlife and its history, New Zealand's social history, the anatomy of the earthquake and why NZ gets so many, and on and on. There was A LOT of wonderful information to be absorbed, but as Chris and I aren't so much the museum types, we tried to be choosey with where we spent our time and attention. I can only read and learn and observe so much before saturation occurs and I'm unimpressable, regardless of how amazing something may be.

To the right is a Maori carving, a prelude to the traveling exhibit of the Maori history, Standing Strong. This was the exhibit we wanted to see most, and took our time wandering through the space. No pictures allowed - sorry. There were artifacts from Maori life from the boats they built, to the pottery they used to cook their food. There were photographs detailing the reach of bloodlines, and one family photo had everyone smiling who stopped to look, the people ranging from infant to great grandfather, and all of these people had come from one of the culture's most significant leaders. Other photo displays focused on the art of body carving, much the same as modern tattooing, but with a different significance. A Maori person wore their identity on their face, the carved and dyed grooves identifying things like their tribe, their parents' names, and their rank within the tribe. It was really beautiful and I found myself actually pondering facial tattoos.

Another of the larger exhibits was the marine life exhibit, where visitors could look at several different sea animals preserved. The giant squid pictured here is the world's largest captured of its kind, and its body has toured the world, wowing scientists and civilians, alike. It was enormous, its skin peeling in places. I know these types of discoveries are great and everything, but I wish we didn't have to end their lives simply because they're so amazing. It made us a little sad to see this creature on display, so we didn't spend too much time here.

Now this one deserved a photo op! This creepy, giant robotic baby in a cage was a part of a kids' exhibit that invited children to actively participate in ... I don't actually remember, but the little boy in the picture could turn a crank that made the creepy baby move and cry.

After the museum it looked like the sun was trying to come out, so we took the opportunity to see the city from above. We hopped on the tram and rode up the the botanical gardens that rest atop a hill that overlooks Wellington.

                                                                             Going up!

                                                                            

From the top of the line.

Pretty, pretty Wellington.

Me, in a tree.

Some of the paths winding through the gardens

How cute is this guy?

I loved the intricacies of this tree's branches.

Ah ha! The inspiration for the Coru symbol, which stands for new beginnings.

CHEESE!

Time to go. Here comes our ride.

Going down!

After spending some time wandering around the gardens we walked back to the waterfront to see what it looked like when it wasn't pouring rain.

"MY QUIET MORNING HILL
     STANDS LIKE AN ALTAR DRAWN
WHEREON HUSHED HANDS SHALL LAY
     THE SHINING PYX OF DAWN


 WITH PENITENCE AND STIR,
     AND DROWSY FLURRY BY,
 THE WIND, A SHAMEFACED SERVING-BOY,
     COMES RUNNING UP THE SKY."

Three bananas and an apple. And part of a woman, too!

The day-after results of late night partying and celebration. Soap in the fountain - fun for everyone!

The area of town where the art museums are. Sadly, we ran out of time to visit the inside, but loved the contemporary courtyard.

The Coru again. I love that these are around the city.

It happened by chance that we were in town during the New Zealand International Comedy Festival, and there was a show that night that had yet to be sold out. Still fighting off the tears from Heidi's passing, it seemed the perfect way to spend the night. We bought tickets to the stand-up show of Wil Anderson at the Opera House, and I'm so glad we did. I certainly needed a laugh, and Wil's style of humor had me laughing from the start. It helped that his opening jokes were about his time spent living in LA in the States, commenting on the cultural differences between Americans, Kiwis, Aussies, and Brits. Aren't the funniest jokes usually true?

The Opera House was lavish and beautiful, so I made sure to snap a few pictures before the lights went down.

Even though we only bought our tickets a couple of hours before the show, we had pretty decent seats. Wil Anderson is my hero for making me laugh when I really needed it. If you come across this Aussie comedian, go see him. He'll be worth the ticket and the time for sure.

Wil's show was a nice close to our short time in Wellington. If we ever get to go back to New Zealand, this is a city we'll return to, no doubt. The atmosphere and energy of the city, itself, was a familiar and comforting thing, and there was plenty we would have liked to fit in. 

Next time, Wellington.

From South Island to North: Kaikoura to Wellington

Saturday, May 14 (still)
South Island


We drove with the windows down along State Highway 1, hugging the east coast. The Ohau Point Seal Colony wasn't far, and the seal pup caves just past that. The New Zealand Fur Seals were like seasoning to this part of the South Island, basking on the rocks along the coast nearly every stretch we could see, and it was cool to be visitors to their natural habitat, their territory.






If we'd been excited to see the handful of seals on Kaikoura's peninsula, we were like little kids at the zoo when we got to Ohau Point.




They were everywhere, swimming, playing, barking at each other, flipping, sliding, and sleeping. The coastline here made a veritable water park with lots of small pools within the rocks, shielded from the rougher pull of the sea; slick rocks for sliding; and countless ledges and rock tops perfect for a post-play nap.

I swear he was blowing raspberries at us. Twerp.

"Move over!"
"No, YOU move over!"
"I was here FIRST!"

How I'd love to be able to sleep on the rocks while the sea crashed against them.

"Those furless seals with the camera sure do look strange."

Kind of reminds me of me as a child - asleep with my bum up in the air.

A little further up the road we found a sunnier spot where a rogue group of fur seals lay about working on their tans.

With the way both Ellister from 4-wheeling and Margaret from the B&B had spoken about it, we were expecting something a little less conspicuous when we arrived at the seal pup caves. It seems this once local-only knowledge was just too good to keep from the tourists, but that was okay. Being in the off-season, it wasn't overly crowded.

With just a simple trail leading from the small parking area on the side of State Highway 1, we started the sweet and shady walk through the forest toward the caves and waterfall where the pups spend their time playing until they reach a mature enough age to join their parents along the coastline with the rest of the colony.



We first came upon a small group of pups, which looked more like adolescents than babies, hanging around just off the path. One overly confident boy pretended to have a treat for one pup, luring it away from the safety of the brush. When the pup discovered the boy had nothing, and then the boy proceeded to attempt to pet the creature, that kid got not only barked at, but chased off, and that part was hilarious. The fact that the kid continued to torment the animal was annoying enough to get Chris and I moving on toward the waterfall, which we could hear ahead.

The water rushed down to a pool below that was swimming with seal pups, figuratively and literally. They chased each other and leaped from the water, doing flips and splashing like the children they were. Their fur was so similar in color to the rocks in and around the water, few photos came out well enough to give an idea of how many were all around us. People walked right up to the rocks taking photos, the seals a mere three feet away at times, and the animals allowed it. They seemed used to people, though kept a buffer zone between themselves and us most of the time. One or two were curious enough to come close enough for a sniff of a tourist, but for the most part the pups ignored us as we cooed and laughed, pointing our cameras and fingers at their adorable, wild play.

I couldn't resist, and after witnessing one rule-breaking man succeed in making physical contact with a pup, I had to try. He'd knelt along the rocks where a few pups were hanging out, and the more curious of the group hopped over the investigate, giving him excellent photo opportunities while it sniffed his leg and hand, actually allowing him to pet its head! I did the same once the man left, and indeed, a curious pup made its way carefully over to me. Squatting in mud isn't the best way to take low light photos with any hope of them coming out clear, but I tried. The pup sniffed my leg and watched me take his picture over and over, and I thought I was in! But when I braved lightly touching the back side of his head when he turned to look at the pool for a moment, he quickly let me know there would be non of that, and I respectfully backed off. Why don't all animals know how much I love them, and accept my love?

On our way back out, we were able to stop and get a few pictures of the seals we'd first seen coming in. The one on the left pointing his nose up was the earlier victim of the aforementioned obnoxious child, now left alone to relax with his pals.

There's something exciting about witnessing wild animals in their own world, and we were grateful these animals were gracious (tolerant) enough to allow this access.

It was time to say goodbye to the fur seals and be on our way again. 

I choose to interpret this facial expression as one of sadness as we walked away.

A little ways down the road we stopped again along a beach. The color of the water, the swaying grass, it was just a stretch we had to walk.

Looking right, there were blue mountains in the distance; looking left, the mountains were bright green. The sky was electric blue, and the sea something closer to aqua marine, appropriately so. It would turn out to be a day of colors as we made our way toward the port city of Picton to board a ferry for the North Island.

The vineyards glowed golden yellow and rusted orange from either side of the highway, their duty done for the season. White clouds darkening to shades of charcoal gathered in the bright blue sky, casting beautiful shadows across the fields of withering grapevines.

A person could get lost in the beauty of even death in a place like this.

Rolling on slightly inland, the landscape continued to change until we found ourselves driving through what looked like swampland. Amazing, how we could start this trip on mountain lakes, go through rainforest and glaciers to sandy beaches and rocky coast, and now there was a little piece of home as we neared the northern tip of the South Island - remember I'm a Florida girl.

When we got to Picton we had a little bit of time to look around this port city. I had to post this photo, as it reminds me a little of downtown St. Petersburg, FL, minus the mountains. We poked around some shops and found a few things to bring home before boarding the inter-island ferry for Wellington. 

With roughly three hours during which we were forced to sit and relax, we could have watched the movie on-board, or hung out in the lounge watching football and drinking, but we opted instead to don headphones and get lost in our own heads for a while. With beer. Next stop, Wellington!

Our Morning in Kaikoura

Saturday, May 14
South Island


When I awoke in the morning, I was sure it'd all been just a really awful dream, but with each passing moment of consciousness there came patches of clarity that painted a picture I didn't want to see. I wasn't sure how I was going to carry on for the rest of this amazing trip. How was I going to be able to truly appreciate this place over the next two weeks while my heart was in pieces? All I could do was my best to hold it together and focus on what was in front of me, but also respect the grief and yield to it when it became overwhelming.


On the saddest Saturday I can remember, this is who we started the day with. Margaret prepared a delicious breakfast for us and we talked about the day's plans. She told us about the baby seal caves we'd find on our way up the coast, just past the larger seal colony where their parents spent their days. But be sure to visit Kaikoura's little seal colony out at the end of the peninsula, too, she said. Nicky came in from her run and we all agreed that it was gorgeous out, the perfect way to start the day in Kaikoura. We only had the first half of the day before we needed to push north to Picton, where we were to catch the ferry across to the North Island that evening, but there was no sense of urgency to rush out that morning, and I think I needed that. Margaret and Nicky were both very considerate of how they brought up their condolences for our loss, and hoped we'd be able to enjoy their country despite the heartache. They were warm and kind, and even though I was likely only half-present, I appreciated the kind of hospitality they'd shown us. It may sound strange, but being in their home felt safe as I came unraveled the night before, and the space they gave us then, as well as the warmth of spirit in the morning was an amazing and unexpected support.

Thank you, Margaret and Nicky, for giving us a soft and secure place to cry.

We hugged our goodbyes and loaded up the car, ready to meet Kaikoura in the daylight, starting with her seal colony.

What's referred to as the Peninsula Seal Colony consists of beautiful, rocky coast and that day, a handful of sleepy seals sunning themselves in the early sunshine. With a feather light haze hovering over the water and small waves rolling in, it all felt rather gentle. Perhaps this is what I wanted to see.

 

There is a 10 meter buffer visitors are expected to keep between themselves and the native seals, so I walked as close as I could, then made good use of my zoon lens. I'd like to think this guy above wasn't just stretching, but posing for me. Lounging on rocks tilted just so for optimal sunshine sounded pretty wonderful to me.

Chris and I, along with a few other seal-seekers were so rapt with the ones out in front of us, we nearly missed the one who was making his way from the parking area back out to the rocks. Not sure what he was doing back in the shade of the trees over there, but it seemed to be time for sunning, and we rushed to snap his picture from a respectable distance, giggling at his inchworm-esque movements and amazed by how difficult it was to spot him once he found a spot among the rocks.

 A little girl, who was in town with her family, cried out from the top of the hill that offered a nice view of the peninsula's end, triumphant in her amazing climb. A family of Aussies, her grandfather was quick to share with us why Australia is better than New Zealand. We listened politely and were soon on our way.

It was a rather large hill. 

We drove into the town center to browse the main street, eager to check out one shop, in particular. The Sealside Gallery sold work exclusively by New Zealand artists, and had everything from pottery, wood, paintings, silk, sketches, sculptures, paper products, and jewelry created from silver, gold, bone, and the native paua shell. And books, and unique paper goods, too! Sadly, the gallery's advertisements said it was going out of business. Happily, there was an extra 10% off everything in the place in an effort to sell out before the doors closed. Being that we're suckers for local art, it was naturally our first stop after the seal colony.

The artwork inside was beautiful, and clearly the product of skilled hands. Her name is Elizabeth, and that day she was behind the counter, happy to answer our questions about the work and the artists. It soon became clear, however, how much stress Elizabeth was under as the closing neared, and our polite conversation about art changed to one that circled the economy, a little bit of politics, and the general public's desire for that which is cheap and quick. It was sad to see such an inviting and spectacular platform for artists be shut down because people would prefer to save money. While Chris and I save where we can, supporting the arts is something we like to support when we can. I wanted to buy out the entire store as I watched Elizabeth's eyes gloss over from the heartbreak of it.

After a rather stimulating conversation, Elizabeth answered a call and Chris and I went back to browsing the gallery, trying to figure out what we might be able to get back home in our luggage. Elizabeth walked over when she found me standing in front of the same item for a stretch, and explained to me the significance of the symbol hanging from the silver chain. It means new beginnings, she said, to which I replied, I'd rather not, then. When she asked why, my voice broke for a moment before I could answer her. I shared with her the previous night's events, and attempted to minimize the pain out of embarrassment, honestly. Some people don't understand the relationship a person can have with their dog, but Elizabeth did. Instead of just telling me how sorry she was (she did), and that everything would be okay, she said something to me that I didn't expect, and that surrounded me with the warmth of genuine compassion and love. She did understand that relationship and knew how devastating it was to lose it. Instead of turning and getting back to work, she focused completely on me for a moment and her tear-filled eyes told me she understood, and in a way, she took a little bit of my pain away from me. It was like a soul hug.

We concluded our visit to the Sealside Gallery with teary-eyed hugs - really. Elizabeth squeezed me the way my mom does. When Chris and I left, we did so with a small bag of pieces from the gallery, mostly jewelry and thoughtfully and cleverly-composed cards, along with a book Elizabeth gifted to us written by a woman she admires. But more than that, we left with a meaningful connection to another person, one I've not forgotten since, and don't think I ever will.

Thank you, Elizabeth, for your open heart. 

We spent so much time with Elizabeth in her beautiful gallery there wasn't much time left to spend in Kaikoura, but that was okay. I'd gotten much more than I'd anticipated from this little seaside town. During a deeply sad moment in my life, something about this place embraced me and gave me comfort. As we pulled out of town on our way to visit some seal pups up the coast, my worries about forever associating Kaikoura with pain and sadness dissipated. Though the waves of grief came often, I knew right away that I'd be leaving a little piece of my heart here in this place, cared for by these people.

Thank you, Kaikoura, for the hug.