NEW ZEALAND CAMPING 2013: DAY #9

Saturday April 27, 2013

We slept pretty well last night. My ankle gave me a bit of a problem a couple of times during the night, but felt better in the morning.

The dawn was spectacular. The sun rose on our right and the sky and clouds were a pinkish gold – so Rab told me because I couldn’t see the pink clearly, but the gold was there for sure. I tried to get some good shots but they really cannot show the beauty we saw. It was a tremendous way to start the day, sitting sipping our coffee and watching the changing colours in the sky and the city  and docks wake up below.

Peg had asked us last night what time we would like our breakfast and we had agreed 08.00, so a good shower, with me sorting the clothes for re-packing and we were ready to start the day.

Of course the view from the dining room table where we had breakfast was terrific and so was the food. There were delightful stewed plums followed by an excellent muesli with yoghurt. Peg had offered us an omelette each which we accepted with alacrity, although we declined the cheese filling despite Peg’s insistence that an omelette without cheese was like a day without sunshine. The end result of her cooking which included parsley and chives, but not the cheese, was excellent.

Peg’s house was full of an eclectic collection of art, some of which was to our taste and others less so. She was also captivated by the chrysalis of the Emperor Butterfly which she had brought in from her garden and which was hanging from a cut bloom that had gone to seed. It was a beautiful piece of work  that had been created by Nature – and I wondered whether the golden tiara around the chrysalis had anything to do with the naming of the butterfly.

Having discussed our options for the day we had decided to just drive around the coast to see what the city and suburbs were like and then perhaps pop into the city for some shopping – Rab having been on a shopping diet, unsatisfied by the glories of Geraldine. It was a lovely sunny day and the gale force wind had dropped, so Peg agreed it would be a splendid idea and said we could pop into one of the delightful cafes and just sit and watch the passing show while we had a coffee.

So off we went, winding down the hillside and following Peg’s directions that we would have needed to use the night before. Not so easy even in daylight, but we made it down to sea level in the end. There were some lovely views as we drove around – and a fair few fishermen, so something must have been on the bite. What a great way to spend a Saturday.

For most of the drive we were on a fairly narrow road  with lush green wooded hills soaring up alongside us – sometimes quite steeply.  

Every now and then we would come across a little settlement of half a dozen houses, while up in the hills we could sometimes see the facades and roofs of dwellings. There were two or three larger villages with some delightful old houses in them. Mostly wood structures in what might be termed Historic Beach style with a Victorian look to most of them. The few modern ones just didn’t fit, for our money – all glass and flat surfaces. No character.

As we came to the end of the coastal road, and turned inland, the houses on the hills grew thicker, leading us to speculate what the population of Wellington might be. I suggested about 400,000 on the basis that the total population of New Zealand was about 4 million with about 1.5 million living in Auckland. Rab felt that there must be more, based on the number of houses we could see, but a check with Wikipedia that evening showed that I wasn’t far out, although I had overestimated the Auckland population. It was interesting to see that 75% of the population lived in North Island – which is why there were so many more sheep than people in South Island.

We wound our way over roads that were in good condition, although very narrow with tight bends and steep climbs – thank goodness we didn’t have to pilot a van – as we made our way through the outer suburbs.

I was getting a bit peckish and suggested a stop in a little village where Rab had decided that she had to buy something on her list. Incidentally, talking of shopping, the incident of my long shoe laces shows how poorly my mental faculties work these days. I had bought a new pair of walking shoes which had the long laces that the Chinese manufacturers seem to favour. Darned nuisance they were – would even stand on them at times as they dragged along the ground. I had been meaning to buy some shorter laces and Rab even had them on her shopping list when it dawned on me that if I cut the offending ends down to a better length I would have no problem! Geez, Terry, get a hold of yourself.

But we didn’t eat. Rab’s argument against lunch was that we had  a late and good breakfast and, as we didn’t want to drive at night over the winding roads to and from Panorama, we should have an early evening meal, just before sunset – i.e. about 17.00. Despite my protests and my concern that I might faint away, she was adamant, so on we went, with my intake limited to a packet of crisps. We didn’t buy anything at the shops either, I might add.

Heading back towards the city to complete our circular drive, we went through an area where all the street names had a distinctly Indian flavour – there were the names of many cities that we recognised and I guess the ones we didn’t were also Indian places. We could imagine some old colonial codger setting up the suburb after serving time with HM Government in India, relishing the memories of his time in the sub-continent.

We had by now realised why we had difficulty in spotting the road names – which led us astray from time to time. The road name signs had a pale grey or violet background with white lettering – very difficult to read on the move and they were also placed at varying heights and situations. This became a real issue when we got to the city which is a mad web of inconsistent (at least to the visitor) one way streets.

Panorma circled

With a lack of comprehensible warning signs, we had a tendency to either overshoot a junction or take an earlier one.Before going into the city proper, we diverted to the docks. There was not much of interest there, but we were able to identify Panorama high on the hill.

But we made it to Kirkaldie and Stains – the Harrods of Wellington. After stopping off in the docks which were very quiet. We managed to work out where Panorama was from  where we stood, but took a shot to check that we were right. We were lucky to find a parking spot near the shop as there was a fair bit of traffic despite the fact that it seemed that many shops were only open half days on Saturday. As I tried to puzzle out the charges on the meter, a friendly passerby told me that there was no need to pay over the weekend – nice touch. The emporium was like stepping back in the past – not quite to 1863 when the shop was established, but certainly to the middle of the last century when department stores like this were so typical. And where, as in Kirkaldie’s, women retired to the Ladies Powder Room, while men had to be satisfied with the Man’s Room.

Rab enjoyed looking around at the very high quality goods and got chatting to one of the dear old ladies who were serving behind the counters, who may well have been born soon after the shop was established. She recommended that we look in Cuba Street  for a nice restaurant.

Satisfied with her dose of shopping, Rab agreed to my proposal that we should have a look at what was available in Cuba Street but then head up to Mount Victoria to see what the view of the city was like from this high point. Well, easier said than done, since Cuba Street was one way for part of its length and one way the other way for another part and, just to confuse us two way for one block. We spotted a couple of likely places and then made our way, with a few reversals and wrong turns up to the summit of the mountain. Very  disappointing. The view over the bay was not better than Panorama and on the other side the  city and suburbs looked like cities and suburbs.

So back we went to the city and, having plotted a route through the web of one way streets landed up precisely where we wanted to be in Cuba Street – AND there was a parking place available. Our first choice restaurant was not open, so we went to the second, an Italian one. Delicious food for both of us, with my appetite honed of course  by a seven hour absence from food.

It was getting towards dusk as we made our way back up the hill. As Peg had said, it wasn’t difficult, at least in daylight.

A glass of wine with Peg, some delicious cheese, a great sunset and we were ready to turn in.