The long and winding road

Posted on December 31, 2011 by gaelharrison

It’s the last day of the year and I have a Bishop’s Cake in the oven, the ironing is done, the rain is falling and the whole of New Zealand is washed out. Oh I am so glad we got home from our massive road trip yesterday. We drove about 2,000 kms and saw scenery that was as diverse as a child’s picture book. Each corner we turned was like a page, as we drove past beaches, rivers, farmland and native bush.

Christmas was in Wanganui and the sun shone on Lyn’s beautiful home, and John and I posed by roses, lilies and lemon trees.

We fed grapefruit to her sheep that were sheltering from the sun, reminiscent of a Pre-Raphaelite painting.

I was very disconcerted when Lily the pet lamb (now approaching 20 and the new mother of twins) came up to kiss my new pink skirt with frothy yellow teeth… I made a hasty retreat.

I had to smile overhearing John talking to a lady at Christmas lunch. He was asking her if they export the cattle to Indonesia as they do in Australia. She looked at him very oddly, ‘Export the Catholics? Well I can’t be sure…’

The next day, we followed the Wanganui River up to Pipiriki,

past hamlets called the unlikely names of Athens, London and Jerusalem. Sister Aubert founded a convent there in the 19th C and I looked around the beautiful little church attached. I took some quiet time to reflect.

Mountains dominated the landscape. On our way to Wanganui we were overshadowed by Mt Taranaki, where the Tom Cruise ‘Last Samurai’ was filmed.

Then we drove east, down the Desert Road, with scenery so like the bleak moorlands that surround Dalwhinnie and Laggan, and where the NZ soldiers train on their elbows in their camouflage outfits and get ready for wars.

Being in the Pacific Ring of Fire, we were in the heart of the trio of active volcanoes and decided to make the Tongariro Alpine Crossing. 20 kms of agonising climbs and descents, and with a bag full of provisions and a variety of clothing we set off from Turangi.

It was drizzly to start, but as we reached the saddle between Ngauruhoe and Tongariro the sun came out, and we could appreciate the awesome beauty of the place. We walked through landscape in the crater’s belly, and could have been on the moon; we read a sign that said if we heard any rumbles we had to run… quite. Apparently it blew up in 1995-96.

Then we reached the volcano’s red crater, steaming ominously, and I felt just a little afraid and found out later that the scenery was used for Morder in Lord of the Rings.  We oohed and aaahed at the emerald and blue lakes,

and slipped down the black scree, feeling quite liberated. But then after all the magnificence the mist came down, thick and alien and we made the descent unable to see the person in front. It was terrifying. We were totally dependent on the white poles marking the track as it zigzagged down for 800m. My toe nails will never recover from being shoved back into my toes, and at the end of the ordeal I felt as though I had danced for 5 hours on a hard stage with Anna Pavlova.

We took ourselves off to the thermal pools and soaked in temperatures of 40 degrees. I cannot describe the feeling of bliss! But to no avail, the next morning we both walked as though we had been hit by a train!

The bus driver taking us back to Turangi was full of the local gossip. A 17 year old youth had been arrested for sexually attacking a 5 year old girl in a campsite. According to the gossipy bus driver, he was from out of town but had come to be with the Mad Mongrel Chapter of the Hell’s Angels in Turangi. New Zealand is riddled with these gangs, and we were so alarmed at the stories connected with such peaceful looking towns. Anyway, the Mongrels had vowed  to kill the youth. They were going to slice him a bit, then spreadeagle him in the bush and leave him for the wild pigs to eat. Then the bus driver pointed out the place where he had seen the pigs… not so far from where we had walked. Dear God.

We drove to Taupo and saw the lake and drank coffee in such a cool pottery and John wanted to buy just about all the lady’s stock! We might have done, but how on earth would we have got the frog, the poppies, and fairies home I wonder!!  Not to mention the pukekos.

We drove south to Napier, where for miles and miles we saw only trees and bush, and pine trees marching over mountains, looking like the bristles on an angry dog.

Napier was a total surprise. It is the Art Deco capital of the world. It was not till later I found out that Napier had been the victim of an earthquake, the worst natural disaster in New Zealand (until Christchurch) and the city had been totally destroyed in 1929. The rebuild took place in the ‘30s, hence all the building and style of the place. Quaint.

It was there we stayed in a luxurious motel where we caught our breath and enjoyed the bubbles of the local Hawke’s Bay wine, and the ensuite spa! Nice.

We drove on to Gisborne and were met with a population of ‘sweet young things’. They had all gathered for the annual ‘T in the Park’ or ‘Drams in the field’ or the Kiwi equivalent. The booze shops were doing an amazing trade, and when we tried to stock up with some wine and whisky we were in a queue of about 30! It is NZ’s biggest music festival held for the New Year. Poor things will be having a soggy time of it. So glad we are home and dry.

Captain Cook arrived in a bay in Gisborne and went ashore to stock up on food and water, but the local Maori chief must have organised a Hakka and the result was bloodshed, bad feeling and the captain retreating with no fresh supplies, and sulkily named the area ‘Poverty Bay’!

The drive back over the mountains was like being in the land of the long winding roads, feeling at times never ending,

but we came to the Bay of Plenty (!) and we were glad to get a bed for the night in Whakatani.

The rain came down and it hasn’t stopped.

Now it is New Year’s Eve, and another year is over. What will 2012 bring? Whatever, we must be positive and optimistic, but first I must vacuum, for you must never let the New Year come in on the old year’s dirt. Then it will be time to be thinking of a toast for the bells! Happy New Year from New Zealand!

Posted in Auckland - New Zealand-2011-12 | 1 Comment

Kiwi christmas musings

Posted on December 19, 2011 by gaelharrison

At last the sun is shining. I was beginning to feel like Noah, cooped up for days on end with my Manet jig saw (now completed)

and have almost finished the Degas. This does not help with making the most of my short time here, but what to do?  I also feel very piano, lack-lustre and vaguely melancholic… could be the season, and could be the ‘new country’ syndrome, which I know will pass. I was so disappointed that the fishing charter trip was cancelled due to weather. I had been really looking forward to it, for ‘they’ say that snapper are just hurling themselves on to the hooks at the moment. Let’s hope we get another chance.

We did venture forth at the weekend and drove west to Muriwai Beach. Had to smile at all the instructions!

The sea was wild, the intrepid surfers were braving the waves but we just marvelled at the coast line and the angry skies.

The bottle brush trees are in their full glory, and are so much more sumptuous here than in Australia. They must be the equivalent of holly or poinsettia at this time of year, as all the Christmas cards feature them.

We went to visit gannet bay, and I came as close to a David Attenborough experience than I ever had before.

There were thousands of these birds, all nesting in neat precision, many nursing bundles of fluff which looked at first like dirty bits of old wool.

The parent birds went off for a soar, for the sheer joy of it, and I snapped, feeling like I did in Macau with the racing cars, that I would be lucky to catch one.

The wing spans were huge, I had no idea.

Actually I had no idea what a gannet was apart from a seagull. Well it is, with a yellow head and they have such a strange life pattern. Imagine…you are born on a rock in New Zealand, then for your first flying lesson you take off for the 2000km flight to Australia where you hang about and grow up and see the world. Then you have a notion that you may want to marry and have a family, so you head back to the rock, find a bird, and start again. I suppose not so different from our own ‘youth of today’!

We headed south to Bethell beach, on the edge of the Waitakere Range, and by now the storm clouds were gathering.

We did wander out across the black volcanic sand, and see the dunes that apparently nurture baby penguins. It was bleak, beautiful and desolate. Driving over I thought of the stories I had read about the numerous graves in the bush clad foothills, where only handcarved slabs of kauri mark the spot where a loved one lay. Many died from ship wrecks and were buried by local people. I heard of three seamen found near Huia in 1863, their graves marked by a simple cross. They were later moved to a simple little bush grave, ‘Laid to rest,’ their epitaph reads, ‘in this quiet place.’

We ventured out on Sunday evening, and met a throng of others all under their umbrellas scurrying into St Mary’s Cathedral. We looked like a scene from Renoir’s Parapluies.

We were treated to amazing music, carols and readings and I came out hoarse. All the great worthies from Auckland had graced us with their presence, and we had mayors, MP’s, bishops and what not…it was all very uplifting. We ran home through the puddles, sharing the umbrella and went to bed humming ‘God rest you merry gentlemen!’

One carol featured the red bottle brush I mentioned earlier,

‘Pohutukawa’s crimson bloom,

Gold wayside flowers, lupin, broom,

Glow round our coasts, across the land:

A canvas painted by God’s hand.’

 

It was all good, but the hymn writer forgot to mention these blooms which were growing like weeds everywhere we went…so beautiful, and I just wanted to snap them whenever I could. Wouldn’t have minded a bunch, to take home!

So Christmas is ahead, we are going to see the sights, and have a long list of ‘things to see’ so hope this weather improves. Land slips in Nelson, rivers and campsites flooded in Taranaki gloom and rain filled skies does not bode well, but hopefully the sun will come out. I shall think of Natasha and Leo in China (having a wonderful time, according to her text) Nick and Kathryn in Sydney, and Gerry and Cathal in Ireland. I sent Gerry her birthday card and thought as I wrote, how this would be the last birthday card I address as Miss Geraldine Harrison!

Christmas greetings to all, and when I write again, let’s hope I can include a picture of a hand caught snapper! (or a marlin or a  hammer head????? Ha Ha!)

Posted in Auckland - New Zealand-2011-12 | Leave a comment

Trips to north and west updated

Posted on December 14, 2011 by gaelharrison

Monday morning in Parnell. The new house (No. 2) is fine, one of four townhouses owned by Mary who is a very kindly, pernickety landlady who has a penchant for ornaments and knick-knacks that must be very precious to her. They have to stand in such a way on such a table. I too have things that are of significance to me in our house in Edinburgh, and it struck me how annoying ‘things’ can be to someone else who has no involvement in their purchase. As the great philosopher David Hume said, ‘Objects have absolutely no worth or value in themselves. They derive their worth merely from the passion with which the purchaser pursued them.’ I have taken some clay mushrooms and some strange candlesticks and hidden them in a cupboard.

 The other tenants are very highbrow… the organ master for St Mary’s Cathedral lives at number 4 and a museum curator lives at number 1.

 John has gone off to work, dragging his feet and muttering about ‘the snake pit’. The morning began badly when he discovered the severed legs of a spider all on his side of the bed! He did ask me if I felt anything run over me in the night???? Apparently he woke up with the sensation, and had visions of being the star of his own version of Dr No! I did shake out the sheets, but there was no sign of the rest of the beast!

 We went driving on Saturday, north of Auckland, meandering along the Hibiscus coastal  route

and came face to face with a pakeko bird in the Shakespeare Reserve. It was blue with a red head and large cartoon-like feet!

We had hoped to try some fishing, but the winds were wrong and the tides were wrong and it was not to be.

 Instead we found Warkworth and I have fallen in love with a tree. I don’t remember hearing about the KAURI tree, and then suddenly I found myself face to face with an amazing specimen, 800 years old.

I spread myself against it, as you do,

and then walked in the bush lands behind it, seeing tree ferns known as ponga, or silver fern. This fern is the emblem of New Zealand and made famous by the All Blacks.

When we went into the museum nearby, we saw all the products made from the kauri, and I was amazed to learn that the kauri gum or resin was more valuable at one time than timber or gold (it was used for high quality varnishes apparently). When they realised how lucrative it was, men used to search for it in swamps and dig it out, and it was like amber with preserved dead things inside it. All very fascinating.

This museum reflected a different quality of life than the museum we visited in the one time gold fields of Arrow Town in the South Island. Here there was evidence of a more genteel way of life. There was a replica of a milliner’s shop, a school dentist’s clinic (from Hell… with its antiquated drills), and underwear showing off old Pa Broon’s ‘combinations’ that men lived in all year round, and ladies’ trapdoor knickers with, and without, buttons! All hanging side by side on a ‘washing line’!

 I felt pin pricks in my eyes when I read a letter from a 23 year old boy writing from the trenches in 1917:

Dear Mum,

Long before this reaches you I will have left this world forever. I have known for some time that I can never regain my former health and I cannot bear to think of the future in my present condition of health.

Life is one long ache, with nights of sleeplessness and I will be happier where I am going.

I do not want you to grieve for me for it will not be long before we are all reunited in the land where there is no sickness or pain and where there is no parting.

I have no fear for the future, for I am merely giving back the life I owe.

Goodbye,

Your loving son,

Lawrence.

 So the kauri tree in all its magnificence lives on, witness to the families that settled and made their lives and hats and histories along the north coast not so far from Auckland. John thought it highly amusing to see me thus…and walked off and left me to reflect on my sins! huh.

 Sunday we ventured out again, but this time we drove west across the Waitakere Ranges on killer winding roads, reminiscent of a curling rattlesnake.  I was nearly sick and had horrid memories of roller coasters. From the dense forests of more fern trees and lianas and unidentifiable trees we finally came down into a perfect surfer’s paradise: Piha Bay.

We ate green tipped mussels whilst I ogled some very attractive young surfer gods, and the sea whipped up the surf as they battled to stay on board. It was all very nice. I do like spectator sports! I remember years ago Gerry took an odd interest in football. I was quite intrigued until I realised she was following the Italian team who had some very attractive, sultry players. Oh we are so shallow!

 We somehow retraced our path over the mountain chicanes again, and came down at Titirangi and drove to the tip of the peninsula at Whatipu, where we decided to climb to the summit of Mt Donald McLean. (!) There were just the two of us in the bush, and it was all so thick and unfamiliar and somehow ancient and foreign.

The ferns made me think of Jurassic Park, and I was half expecting some of those weird prehistoric birds with the long legs and fierce looking helmets to come screaming along the path. I think the Moa was the largest bird of its kind, but is now extinct (Phew).

Between Piha beach and Whatipu is Karekare beach, the scene where Jane Campion sited her film, The Piano. It was so isolated and beautiful and atmospheric.

 I was more afraid yesterday in a country that has no poisonous creatures or scary reptiles than I was in South Australia with their brown snakes and red back spiders. It is all in the atmosphere and imagination.

 The drive back was beautiful, and I am intrigued by the nasturtiums that grow willynilly, threading themselves along the banks and sides of the road. Has someone gone along and strewn the seeds to make a colourful show?  

It is also disconcerting to see bougainvillea, banana trees and bamboo growing alongside montbretia, holly hocks, marguerites and buttercups, all growing regardless of the season. Summer has only begun here, on 1st December, yet there seems to be no rhyme or reason for the appearance of such an array of flowers all at the same time. Colours are exquisite, and the greens are so dense, yet so soft, your fingers just itch to touch them.

 I am about to start another jigsaw. I so enjoyed the one I did in Adelaide before we left. Funny thing, jigsaws, they were introduced as dissected maps, as an educational tool for royalty and aristocrats, but have since been seen as a way for people to stave off boredom and death! Some see them as a way of killing time, and Daniel Defoe once said that perhaps that ‘was the worst of murders’! I just know that sometimes I can be worried about things, and have a lot on my mind, but when I do a jigsaw it’s not the everyday things that torment me when I walk or drop off to sleep, instead it’s pieces of sky edged with a blob of green or a shiny pit of metal – could it be the vase or a piece of the chandelier? I had to laugh when I read how Queen Victoria described her evening with Lord Melbourne. Together they worked on a puzzle, and she wrote, ‘The pleasantest gayest evening I have passed for some time. I sat up until half past 11!’

I see in the papers that snow has arrived in the UK, shutting down airports and causing all the headaches of winter. Christmas is nearly upon us, and I feel very removed from it all. Perhaps we should go to the Cathedral and listen to our new neighbour play the carols. This time last year I was in a delightful frenzy cooking and baking and making ready for the family feast. Now I am off to find another ‘straight piece’ for the edge! I am doing Manet’s The Bar at the Folies Bergere, 1882. You learn so much about a painter’s brush strokes and little tiny details when doing a jig saw or am I just justifying my new hobby! This is the one I did earlier!

Posted in Auckland - New Zealand-2011-12 | Leave a comment

New Zealand – Land of the long white cloud

Posted on December 7, 2011 by gaelharrison

I am sitting here sipping liquorice tea, and nibbling big red strawberries. Outside the sun is shining and I have a wonderful view from our 27th floor apt of Auckland spread below… the harbour is ahead and the park lands and city are fused together like a colourful jig saw puzzle. From my lofty position I have a good view of Parnell in the distance where we have signed on the dotted line for a house to rent. We pack up and move in tomorrow.

In Adelaide at this time the streets were lined with Jacarandah trees, here in Auckland there are so many magnolias, so beautiful and such a perfect flower. Also love the song by JJ Cale!

We arrived in New Zealand on Saturday and were met with the Korean manager, who is given to ‘the odd tipple’.  His face has that bloated shiny look, and I don’t think it’s the job that has tipped him over the edge. I think he just has a ‘party’ disposition! John and I were instructed to find ourselves a place to live, so we dutifully spent Sunday scouting around in our new hired car, with the GPS and a map of the city, all in the pouring rain. Indeed eachday I have felt a bit  like Eeyore and the rain cloud,

as I seem to have had my own personal cloud following me about. Today I marched along the harbour defiantly trying to walk faster than the long black cloud above me!

We looked at Howick, so pretty and compact with the sea lapping along its own private beach, just down the hill, and picturesque marine villages with names like Cockle Bay and Half Moon Bay, but in the end we chose Parnell.

The street is full of arty boutiques and galleries and so on, and loads of restaurants and down from there we are just a spit away from the Parnell rose garden and Judge’s Bay. It is all very nice. I am looking forward to unpacking, and buying vinegars and spices and filling my cupboards and fridge with things I might want to use tomorrow or the day after! I feel I have been camping for quite a few weeks now.

Yesterday whilst out and about on Queen’s Street, I saw some crazy abseilers doing their acrobatic stunts at the Metro Centre in Aotea square. They were dressed as crabs and lobsters and so on. I didn’t really pay too much attention. Later I watched the News  and saw that the ‘mermaid’ had fallen 20m from the top.  Horrified spectators thought it was just part of the act, and thought she would stop any minute, but she didn’t and landed on the square. It was awful, but by some miracle she has only broken her cheek bone.

I missed the drama (thank goodness) as I was in a café reading about pandas arriving in Edinburgh and a pod of orcas thrilling the motorists, pedestrians and boaties in Wellington Harbour.

It is all go with animal stories. I was really intrigued with the dancing praying mantis!

Christmas is in full swing here and it seems so odd with people walking about in shorts and sunglasses. Also there is a tendency for fun, and crazy stunts in gardens and streets.

Whilst driving out to Mission Bay on Sunday (with the wipers going flat out) we passed a huge wall of rather a strange design. John was quite disparaging, saying how he didn’t care for the building.

It wasn’t till we got closer that we realised it was a huge wall of Maersk containers on the container wharf, and was the result of a 4 day strike.

 Looked like a mighty wall to us, and I just hope there were no poor people being smuggled in any of the boxes. (Have I seen too many episodes of The Wire?!!)

John came back last night full of despair. This job seems worse than the Adelaide one, but after a hot bath, and a wee dram he perked up and we went for a therapeutic walk in the nearby Albert Park.

 Oh well, we sat and enjoyed the setting sun, and the views of our apt and the magnificent trees that one of these days I must find a name for.

I feel quite up-beat and positive about this stay. There is the whole of the north to explore, and seas and rivers to try out my trusty rod. John said that some guy at work said I would need a much mightier line…you only catch ‘brutes’ here apparently!

Posted in Auckland - New Zealand-2011-12 | Leave a comment

Adelaide Revisited

Posted on November 28, 2011 by gaelharrison

I do miss Glenelg. The walk along the promenade everyday was just so therapeutic, here in the centre of town it’s difficult to get going as traffic lights constantly seem to be on red. I do like the ease and proximity to the market however, and a daily fix of a ‘skinny flat white’ and the newspaper is a very civilized way to the pass time. But I have been struggling with my jigsaw… the most difficult puzzle I have encountered for years. All the colours are mud brown and black. I am going blind and mad with frustration. It is actually supposed to be ‘an old master’ still-life of a vase of flowers. I shall persevere.

Eddie Izzard last week at the Festival Theatre was OK; his rambling stream of consciousness took in most of the Old Testament, with his old friend Noah making a welcome appearance. He does ‘God’ as James Mason and ‘Noah’ as Sean Connery. Quite funny, but the ramblings ended as mumblings and I couldn’t hear. Maybe I should invest in a trumpet (for hearing, not blowing).

John and I drove out to Noarlunga at the weekend and walked miles along the beach, to feel the wind in our hair and breathe in the sea air. All very nice and invigorating. It will soon be officially summer (1st Dec) and it is nice to know that the shark-spotting planes will be going over once an hour. Also in the Hills, everyone is on fire-alert. A worrying season, it would seem. But Santa is alive and well in Rundle Mall, and is glorious in his hugeness!

I snapped some pretty Christmas trees and Sturt peas in a nursery. I just wish I could buy some. They were found growing in the desert by Charles Sturt, the explorer who crossed Australia from the South right through the middle to the top. Glad he had time to appreciate the pea.

We finished the day having a seafood buffet at the Grand Hotel in Glenelg… now that was a treat.

I ate too much, but convinced myself the shellfish were a necessary part of one’s diet – loads of zinc etc.

I had to smile earlier in the week when I read about the Magill Estate winning the Restaurant of the Year. This is the wine estate that boasts the Grange Red Wine that costs $600 a bottle. Well now you can eat a meal that would complement such a bottle. I was worn out reading the menu. Imagine trying to find the following in the supermarket:

Coorong Mullet, smoked over vine clippings in a barbecue, with slices of preserved truffle and a ridiculously delicious grissini filled with truffle cream.

Failing that, you could also opt for Kangaroo Island marron with a tangle of peas, greenery and a dressing touched with honey, and scallops with walnuts, endive and crisped pork cheek!

I have been wondering what to cook to impress my new prospective ‘in-laws’. I think a fish pie might be a better option!

But the best thing was yesterday. We drove first to a very lovely suburb, King William Road, where I would really love to buy a house, very classy with jacaranda trees forming avenues and vines draped along the verandas of the shops.

So nice. Sort of like Chipping Camden and Broadway villages in England, where it is all so picturesque with 400 year old wisteria taking over the ancient houses.

Then on to Belair National Park where we thought we would go for a 4 hour trek into the bush. Needless to say we decided to do this, after we got there, so we didn’t take water, and the day was HOT. Never mind, our tongues didn’t swell up, or go black and we managed to march into the wilderness with only the birds for company. I was busy telling John about the warnings in the newspaper about brown snakes being seen around Adelaide, and how we have to be wary etc. The undergrowth was quite verdant, and I was gaily marching along, full of the snake stories, when we reached ‘Echo Tunnel’.

John suggested I go in first, as he wanted to take a quick snap. I objected, but was told that I should just remember that South Australia was mostly ‘discovered’ by intrepid Scotsmen… so I should just get in there. Hmmmmm.

The tunnel went on for ever and ever amen, and the light at the end was a bit similar to what I suppose people see in near death experiences.

I was yelling loudly, very pleased that the echo was working and scaring any sleeping snakes away.

But the highlight of our walk was seeing a REAL koala in a tree in the wild. No zoo, or conservation area, he was just free to hug his tree and stare at us. It was fantastic.

After many sweaty hours tramping through the bush we were glad to get back to the car and glug the water.  We were both so tired,  it’s been ages since we have done that kind of walking… memories of tramping  through the forests and paddies on the  Hash in Hanoi with Kate and Jasper… I was sort of hallucinating and trying to conjure up the ‘beer truck’ but to no avail!

Tomorrow I am off to the quilting group to meet up with my old sewing friends. I am taking along my Ukrainian embroidery that I started in Kiev, and needless to say didn’t finish. Now I have the chance… I just hope I still remember my Russian alphabet as the pattern is all in Russian!

And it’s farewell from Australia…we are off to Auckland on Saturday!

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Lost in Macau

Posted on November 22, 2011 by gaelharrison

Since leaving Adelaide our travels seem to have gone around in a full circle. I remember eating pizza in a shack-like restaurant in Kings Cross in Sydney almost 3 weeks ago; trying not to look shocked at the girls wearing little more than stretchy belts, whilst policemen with sniffer dogs patrolled the streets. I pointed out to John a portrait of Jesus hanging on the wall. He became the landmark for when we were exploring and needed to get back to our hotel in Potts Point, a leafy classy area just a breath away from all the drugs and vice further up the pavement. Of course we also saw the Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge,

and ate dinner and sat in the sun with Nick and his girlfriend, Kathryn. It wasn’t all hanging out with Jesus and the fallen women!

Scotland was a whirlwind of visiting and not coping at all well with jetlag. I remember eating a lot of toast in the ‘wee sma hours’ and feeling totally zonked most of the time. The highlight for me was a visit from Gerry and Natasha,

while John flew south to meet up with his kids. For us it was a ‘brideshead revisited’ time and most of the talk was of weddings and plans. Of course we all dressed up in our gowns and Natasha looked stunning in hers, me in mine, but Gerry looked the star of the show, and we were both in awe of her in all her splendour. Roll on February when we can dress up for REAL!  In the meantime Natasha is going for a month to China and Gerry is going to Colorado for some induction before taking up her new job in Dublin. Changing times for her and Cathal.

It was lovely to see Edinburgh in the colours of autumn, and walking along the Water of Leith was just so good. We bought loads of second hand books in Stockbridge, as the price of books here in Australia and NZ is just a joke… £7-15 for second hand paperbacks. One of these days I suppose we should buy a Kindle but for the moment, we still hang on to our old ways.

We did take the train to Evesham to visit John’s 97 year old mum and his sister and brother-in-law, and it was such a nice visit.

I slept under ancient beams in a house built in the 16th Century and which I was told witnessed the Battle of Evesham. I should check my history here, but I think it was all to do with Cromwell and his revolutionary army. I didn’t feel the presence of any ghosts. No doubt they left after Roy started all his renovations, turning Ye Olde Bakery into a family home. I loved waking up and looking out at the red and gold leaves falling past my window… aaaah Yves Montand singing in my head again.

When we landed in Hong Kong, it was as though we hit the ground running, and the whole time we were there we didn’t get a minute to catch our breath. I think I am still hyper-ventilating! John’s son, James, and his girlfriend, Chris, whisked us everywhere. I was asked if there was anywhere special where we would like to go. Long ago I read the book, The World of Suzie Wong, and later saw the film with Nancy Kwan and William Holden, so off we went to Wan Chai and ate the most amazing dinner, then patrolled the ‘girlie’ bars!

Poor James, he was nearly broke as the girls kept massaging our backs and necks and for each little attention they demanded ‘a drink’. I was unaware of the bargaining going on; I just thought they liked us! Two lithe nearly naked ones did a bored sort of dance in front of everyone, and John tried to keep an impassive face as though he wasn’t there… in spite of ‘Karen’ busy massaging and chop chopping his back! A careful study of indifference!

Next day we sailed on the Star Ferry to Kowloon, then drove up to the Peak, and saw the sights and I tried to imagine life in the ‘rich lane’ where people live in the lap of millions. We saw the contrasting lifestyle in Aberdeen harbour where the boat people live on sampans and some never come ashore.

It was a world of contrasts. I loved Soho, where the government have built an amazing elevator system to transport everyone to and from work every day. We sat eating breakfast watching people of all walks of life going up the hill on the moving staircase amidst the ancient buildings.

.

Later we caught the ferry to Macau. It was the weekend of the Macau Grand Prix.

The plan was that we were to watch the Formula 3 racing from our Hotel terrace. But first after booking into the 5 star hotel, we met up with lots of James and Chris’s friends (mostly pilots and wives and girlfriends… I checked that they weren’t going to be flying us the next day, as I was a little alarmed at the drink that was being consumed) and we were taken to a quiet Portuguese fishing village which apparently was just how Macau used to be. The food was delicious, Portuguese-Chinese fusion. Rain fell outside the plastic awnings, and I nibbled my crab and prawns and squid, drank loads of Chinese beer when suddenly I realised the restaurant was situated in a church courtyard. And yes… there was the same portrait of Jesus that I saw in Sydney. I asked John to photograph it for me; he had to brave the rain but he took the porticos and the church façade.

 

The architecture was all so familiar; you could almost imagine you were in a Spanish or Portuguese village.

Then we went on to the casinos. Oh my! One of the pilots told me that more money is made in a month in Macau than in a year in Las Vegas. Well we went in, and I was open mouthed at the sheer opulence and the magnificence of the place.

I wandered about watching the roulette, blackjack, craps, baccarat all going on in a fevered frenzy. Our group did well, many doubled their money, but they were on the cheaper tables, and didn’t take too big a risk. I watched one group of Chinese playing blackjack, it was very tense, and a guy picking his teeth next to me laughed and said, ‘Us Chinese, we go crazy, yes?!’ I could only agree, and then there was a roar as the player just won $10,000!

Luckily I didn’t feel any urge to throw away even one dollar; somehow I would prefer to buy a new lipstick or a pair of shoes!

The following morning John and I escaped from the hotel plushness and wandered out to the street beside the hotel and found a foot massage joint. We were ushered in, and persuaded to have full body massage. We asked for pyjamas, which were later yanked off us, quite without ceremony. I had to giggle, it reminded me of Vladimir in Kiev! It was amazing. Part physiotherapy – my girl had fingers like lobster claws, and she really did her shiatsu stuff, but then she applied the oil, and that was just heaven on earth. Both of us returned to the hotel as floppy as jelly fish. John looked very calm and relaxed and seemed to be enjoying his return to the Far East!

And the racing! I have never been so close to so much noise or speed in my life. I tried to photograph the cars as they roared past, but sadly each time all I got was another picture of the road.

There were screens recording the races so we could see where the cars were careering off to after they whizzed past us. It was actually very exciting, and I was surprised. I didn’t expect to enjoy it at all.

John and I decided to go for a walk afterwards, in order to see Macau properly. We took a taxi as the warren of streets were a nightmare and so many were closed off because of the racing, but when we arrived at St Domingo’s cathedral the crowds who had been watching the race all decided they were going home, and we were marooned without a hope in hell of ever getting a taxi.

We quickly looked at the historic square, a juxtaposition of ancient brushing against Macdonalds and Body Shop, then tried to decipher a map (all in Chinese). By this time John was getting snappy, ‘Where are we? What direction is the hotel?’ and I studied the map, trying to look intelligent and make out the Chinese writing… hmmm – tense moments. We walked and walked, and the sun set. We stopped and had watermelon juice beside a strange reconstruction of the Queen’s royal carriage (???) then plodded on, criss-crossing the streets, until we finally got to a casino that we sort of remembered. The taxi queue was about 40 people long. We decided to take our chances. The minutes ticked to nearly an hour, and we were supposed to catch the ferry to Hong Kong at 7 p.m. Both of us were getting a little anxious. Our flight to Adelaide left at 10.45! Our phones didn’t work and no one on the planet knew where we were! Meanwhile, whilst standing in the taxi queue, we listened to a rendition of Shirley Bassey singing ‘Diamonds are forever’ and the fountains in front of the casino were keeping time, dancing, and undulating and changing colour. Quite impressive. If we hadn’t been so stressed it might have been more fun. Eventually I did a crying maiden act to the concierge and we were able to hire a private car (at great expense) and we got back, at one minute to 7!

And now we are back in Adelaide. Not in our beautiful ocean view apartment, instead we are only a spit away from Chinatown and Victoria Market.

These next few weeks will be different, but that is good. This apartment is adequate, it’s clean, and has all the necessary things for our comfort. The street outside has an avenue of Jacaranda trees which must have been stunning a week or so ago but the petals are falling now, making a purple carpet on the pavements.

We will only be here for a couple of weeks we think, so we must just keep positive and enjoy it all whilst we can. On Wednesday I have booked tickets for us to go and see Eddie Izzard! How amazing is that!

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Hearts and Roses

Posted on October 27, 2011 by gaelharrison

How wonderful to be back in the land of natural light, and see the sea and the vast blue sky.

I drank my coffee under a palm tree with the pigeons nestled in the fronds. It was all so unusual. I normally associate pigeons with railway stations and around people eating fish and chips. I am waxing lyrical after my 5 days locked up with the ill and elderly. I passed my ‘test’ yesterday, and it would seem there are no blockages so that is good, and I have a little spray for ‘just in case’ and a daily dose of aspirin, and an appointment to get my gut photographed at some point as the reflux pain is awful, so all in all I am full of the joys for when liberty has been denied, the release is so much sweeter. I walked around Jetty Road this morning glad to be part of the happy throng. I confess I did feel mortal and quite afraid and the initial experience was all very sobering. I thank the good Lord that all is well.

The hospital was a nightmare. Not per se…for the nurses, the doctors, the facilities were excellent. BUT! The awful food and sleepless nights were grim, although I remember in the local hospitals in Hanoi, patients there didn’t get food or bedding, and were totally dependent on friends and relatives. The ward seemed to become the focus of the day, the outside world lost its reality, and suddenly I became interested in my fellow inmates with all their sad ailments. I was quite riveted with the woman across from me who had cut her foot and fallen badly on her back, and her kidneys were failing fast. She was agitated, and kept twisting her hands and muttering and raving and I wondered if it was drugs or alcohol? She was very very sick.

My neighbour for a while was an Aborigine girl who had been so drunk she had fallen and broken her nose, jaw and lost three teeth. The doctor told her he would have to re-break her nose with a hammer and chisel. She was in a bad way as I listened behind the curtain… her liver was shot and she had the DTs and was seeing creepy crawlies all over her skin.

A confused old man defied the nurse after she yelled at him to stay put in his bed and he fell heavily on the floor, breaking his hip. He was a sorry sight, lying naked and forlorn. The worst thing was the poor lady who had ‘an accident’ in the bed next to mine at 4 a.m. Oh dear God, the smell. I did feel for some of these old ladies, as they were being harassed to go home as soon as possible, and three of them said to me, ‘I don’t think I’m ready, I don’t want to go, I’m so dizzy.’ They were all in their mid-80s, and so fragile, and not able to take care of themselves.

One real rough diamond of a guy who had come in with epilepsy was showing an elderly lady how to put his nipple rings in, she was quite intrigued.

‘But why?’ she asked.

‘Because it’s sexy and turns on the girls,’ ugly guy replies.

‘Hmm,’ she sniffed, ‘I may be an old girl now, but I was a bit of a girl once and I don’t think it’s sexy.’

‘But it’s not your era is it, darling?’ he said rudely, and chortled off back to his bed. Ugh, was all I could think.

So all in all it was an experience, and I had John bring me in ear plugs to mute some of the groans and moans, and I had to laugh as the nurse nearly rammed one down  to my ear drum, as that is how they take your temp nowadays. I was barely awake when she decided to do ‘my obs’. (I am so technical!) Tricky gouging it out! Still, a bit of light relief.

It was heaven to escape on Sunday afternoon for two hours to the Botanical Gardens next door to the hospital and smell the roses.

South Australia has the perfect climate apparently for roses, and I was just in heaven, oohing and aaahing at all the colours and ramblers and teas and floribundas. Lorikeets were perched on pergolas, and kookaburras were laughing in the giant red gums in the backdrop. Sadly John tightened my leash and dragged me back to the prison where I had to stay for another 2 nights until THE TEST.

But now I am free, and sadly packing up to leave Jetty Road and Glenelg and the lovely city of Adelaide. We are staying 2 nights in Sydney before the flight back to Bonny Scotland and back into cashmere and possum socks and the trusty red duffle coat. Three winters in one year is just NOT fair! John should know this week where we return to, but I can hear Doris Day singing, Que sera sera etc… Auckland, Sydney or back here for a brief stay???? Time will tell but in the meantime, I will remember Mr Diamond’s words from that wonderful trip to Mandalay in Burma, ‘The past is gone, the future is still to come, so we must live for today…’ Carpe Diem. Amen.

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Drama at the yoga

Posted on October 24, 2011 by gaelharrison

No pictures…am in the Royal Adelaide Hospital…came in after having chest pains at Yoga on Friday. Failed the stress test (ecg ) and now tomorrow have to have dye injected and my heart speeded up, and I am so stressed as we fly on Saturday…Please Please Please let all be well. In the meantime I am developing the greatest respect for nurses. OH MY GOD what a horrible job. I am in a ward of ancient ladies, with bedpans, groans and just awful things. I want to go home. Adieu for the nooo.

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Melbourne and NZ

Posted on October 11, 2011 by gaelharrison

My head is spinning from our whirl wind tour. It was quite a week. Melbourne was beautiful, and we walked along the Yarro River,

and around the precision of the gridded streets, avoiding celebrating football fans, and taking trips on trams to see the sights.

Look at the sculpture above….and the sign above John’s head! I didn’t even see that when I snapped!

I loved how people have slid off the well-heeled streets and make use of the lanes running down between them…it is almost reminiscent of Hanoi.

Restaurants and bars are set up and people dine amongst the graffiti.

In one lane there is an argument scrawled in white paint on the wall of a property, concerning the lack of maintenance of a tenant’s property! Mostly though it is just colourful artwork.

Didn’t like seedy St Kilda, but was drawn to the cake shop windows…oh my. This area was originally settled by Poles and people from Eastern Europe and their cakes are still made and displayed…I even saw the almond crescents that so bewitched me in Kiev. Sadly I had just eaten, alongside some Hell’s angels, told you the area was dodgy…you wouldn’t like to wander about there, alone at night.

Talking about nights, we were wakened by two lesbians next door, obviously having an emotional fight, as one woman was crying, ‘but you called me Anna!’ Time for the ear plugs!

But the best part was taking a tram way outside the city to the Dandenong Ranges, where we caught a bus that whisked us up to cute villages specialising in cream teas amidst native gums and giant ferns.

We ate pumpkin and ginger soup beside a bird feeder with about 6 crimson rosellas.

We decided to walk to William Ricket’s sanctuary, through the bush, and so felt very in tune to what the man envisaged with his special place.

He lived and worked at Mount Dandenong from 1934-1993, making 92 ceramic sculptures of aborigines which merge into the trees and ferns. It was truly magical. Funny how creative people are so eccentric, and how they somehow leave their mark in the most unusual ways and places. After oohing and aahing and snapping the various sculptures we crossed the road and went down to a restaurant. There we found the owner busy feeding a wild kookaburra on his wrist.

It was enjoying some red meat. He told us that he had been feeding it tit-bits for about 2 years, and later when we walked away we saw the bird laughing happily on a branch, wild and free. Wonderful.

After the impressive aborigine sculptures we decided to visit Melbourne’s Art Galleries.

I was quite taken with one that specialised in indigenous art. To be honest, I have never really been a fan, but seeing these massive canvasses and reading the stories behind the blobs and blotches of colour I realised they are more a story than just a brilliant combination of colour and pattern.

There was a recording of one elderly artist describing what he was painting, ‘the round red blobs are the women’s bottoms and the circles around them are the lines that women draw when sitting on the sand whilst talking about men and whether they might marry. The long line here is the snake, and he is really a man disguised, and he is looking for the water hole where the red kangaroo has its dreaming place.’ Aaah! Now I could see it!

Auckland was alive to the sound of Rugby. It was busy, and John had to meet with colleagues to discuss him going to work there. I went to see Jane Eyre! Then we flew down to Queenstown in the South Island, where we were stunned by mountains that make Ben Nevis look like a hill and as for the Adelaide hills, you could just spit over them! The Remarkables are over 12,000 ft, and frame the lake like mountains should…blue blue  water and sky and snow-capped rugged peaks.

Around the lake I snapped the weeping willows and the cherry blossom and we dined on green tipped mussels and drank wine that grew in the alpine region. It was all story book stuff. We went up on the cable car to where my Gerry worked ten years ago, in the Sky Bar, and looked with horror at crazy people para-gliding and bungee jumping.

Much more appealing was fine dining with Catriona and catching up and falling back into the friendship that began when we were about 12.

The meal was something from ‘Master Chef’ and the waiter almost told John just what part of Canterbury his duck came from, and we watched quietly bemused as he steam ironed the tablecloth on our left, ready for the next customer. Such elegance!

Next morning, Catriona took us on a tour to Glen Orchy and Paradise! Imagine!

We dined in Kinloch, beneath a mountain range that features hugely in Lord of the Rings, and each corner we turned we couldn’t believe how beautiful it all was.

The following day we went to Arrowtown, a quaint old town, that looks as though it has been preserved as the Gold Rush Town that it once was. We visited the museum, and I was struck again how amazing these first settlers were. Hardy boys, that’s for sure, and the girls were no mamby pambies either. Aye, they were made of stern stuff back in them days! I looked at a list in the ‘doctor’s surgery’ of the deaths and causes of….cholera, diphtheria, drowning, horse kicks, and one poor woman died of childbirth at the age of 53, delivering her 10th child.  Was it all for ‘the greed of gold?’ Apparently gold is still being found, and a school kid found a big nugget up in a river just a few months ago. Bet his Dad (or school teacher) confiscated it pretty damn quick! HA HA.

Back to Auckland to watch the defeat of England, and Ireland and I got 4 flea bites from the awful room that was the only available accommodation that we could find.

And the news…a man taken by a shark in Perth, and a 48yr old woman rescued from the Katherine River in the Northern Territory. She was going for a swim in a croc infested part of the river…drunk as a lord. The police had to use a winch cable attached to the patrol car…you’d think the crocodile would have had her by the time they had got that all in place.

And now, it’s back to Adelaide and our lovely flat, and the ocean just outside, and a mountain of washing. But it’s so easy to put on the machine. Thank God I am not a pioneer!

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An eclectic collection

Posted on September 28, 2011 by gaelharrison

Today the farmers will be dancing in their fields, for at last there has been some significant rain. The beach is empty as a consequence, and yesterday’s revelries are but a memory. I walked past a volley ball game where a pretty red bikini-clad blonde was entertaining a gallery of Samoan youths, and Japanese camera clickers….the Australian idyll was alive and bouncing! I gave a surreptitious glance to the six pack Adonis that she was partnered with…just added a little flavour of the day!

I then marched on to Brighton to get my spine cracked by the chiropractor. John and I have both signed away our savings for a course of spine realignments to hopefully alleviate neck pain. Mind you after he cracked mine on Saturday I thought I might have to be bound and gagged before I returned, but amazingly it seems to be helping. The procedure is a little more brutal than the aromatic massage that I might usually choose. He will re X-ray us after 6 wks and we should see all our discs free of fusion…hmmmm, let’s hope. We were glad to call in for a coffee  in Brighton after the consultation, imagine our surprise coming across a rather unusual style of decoration!

Someone obviously had a bit of a fixation!

We went to see Rhinoceros in Love…what fun. From China, it was of course in Mandarin and we had to read the ticker tape to keep up with the fast flow of wit and turbulence. All about the unrequited love of the rhino keeper for a beautiful dreamy girl, and the play was threaded through with satire about China’s consumer world of messages and Western pop influences. I loved it, the angst, the drama, the amazing stage water bath that suddenly appeared complete with waterfall. We sat at the end, dumb struck, and emotionally drained.

From high drama to John’s first fish! It was very exciting as he hauled in his catch with just a hand line. It was just such a pity there was such a cold wind and we didn’t have enough clothes on, so had to scuttle off to the car shortly afterwards. The guy next to us was catching squid, and he caught a whopper….thank God it wasn’t us, I just don’t know how we would have coped! As it was when I cooked the perch later, the great fisherman kept muttering, ‘Poor thing.’ Sort of spoiled the occasion!

We returned to Handhorf again on Sunday, not really by intent, but just cruised in the old fashioned mode of ‘a Sunday drive…destination irrelevant’. The day was hot, and we decided to visit Sir Han Heysen ‘s house where we sat in the garden alone with only the fairy wrens with their blue plumage darting around the bushes for company.

The bushes were bobbing with honey eaters and above the blue gums were majestic and rosellas and galahs were swooping up to the branches in swathes of colour. Neither of us wanted to leave. The house is so beautiful, and the gardens are just so alive. Paradise on earth. One little wren took a great fancy to itself. We came back to the car to find the tiny Narcissus glued to the wing mirror, cheeping away at its reflection!

The day turned out to be the day all the Vintage cars did some kind of rally and ended up in Birdwood in the Adelaide Hills.

As we sat and ate our obligatory meal of a ‘trio of wursts’ with a selection of mustards and sauerkraut the old Jags, Mercs, MG’s and polished Minis cruised the street on their way to the meeting place. We had a prime spot and enjoyed the wisteria that is flowering everywhere, framing our view.

Yesterday was my last day at the quilting class. Sadly they break up for a while, so I won’t see many of the ladies again. I was struck yesterday how like a Maeve Binchy novel it was, these ladies with their stories, quietly stitching and sharing snippets of their lives, and helping one another create these fabulous heirlooms. One donated her kidney to her husband, another who had been adopted as a child just found a brother and a new family, so many stories woven into the threads. I shall miss them. But I am  happy as I have achieved my goals here in Adelaide.

I have finished my ‘Doha’ quilt, finished my ‘Adelaide’ pillow, and finished ‘The Higland Rocks’. I was awake for hours one night, hating how I had ended it before, and marched along the beach the next day, then came back about 5pm and poured a large glass of red wine and wrote and wrote, about 2,500 words and NOW I have finished! John says I should do that all the time…be like Hemmingway, write with the glass at hand!

After the quilting, Sharon and I drove across town to get her machine fixed and when she opened the boot she casually said she and her son had found a giant huntsman spider in the corner. They had shooed it out, and it had scarpered into a bush. However on the way back she casually told me that one permanently lives in her son’s car. It drapes its web around the steering wheel and he has to disentangle all the stickiness each morning. He can never find it though! I felt a little on edge as I had heard that although they won’t hurt you, and they are very good for getting rid of creepy crawlies, they often cause death just by scaring the living day lights out of you.

IMAGINE one falling on your head, and plastering itself on your forehead and eyebrows, like one did on some man. He drove across the road, causing a huge smash and having a heart attack. Amazingly he lived.

I’d also heard of one getting entangled in a woman’s lacquered hair. I still think we have one out on the balcony, I only saw it once, but the corners are still reminiscent of Miss Haversham’s wedding scene, with little curtains of sticky spider webs trapping all the tasty tit bits. I leave them be.

We are off to Melbourne this weekend, then Auckland. I am looking forward to seeing Catriona in Queenstown. We were once school friends, and later shared many a good time in Kintail in the West Highlands of Scotland and now we shall meet again, on the other side of the world. I hope she takes us gold panning. Now there’s a thought!!!!

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