I am a big enough person to admit that my patriotism (only word I could think of) towards the north of England has been known to descend into prejudice against the south. As it turns out, that patriotism/prejudice extended to cover the North and South islands of New Zealand too – my mind does some strange and inexplicable things. For no reason I can fathom, I was expecting the North Island to be better than the South Island but, having now spent a couple of days amongst the Smelly Southeners, I can confirm that this irrational, judgemental conclusion is complete and utter (if you’ll pardon my French) bollocks. So far, I actually can’t pick a favourite between the two, though the South has undeniably had better weather...
Tuesday we were in Wellington, and – true to North Island form – it was bucketing down. This being the case, we went to the Te Papa museum (indoors, you see) and learned some genuinely interesting stuff about Maoris, the first New Zealand settlers and giant squids (I’m not sure why either). The museum is the biggest in the country and was very impressive, but museums with my family tend to result in arguments – mum walks too slowly, dad walks too fast, my brother couldn’t give a toss about any of it and I want to look in THAT exhibit over THERE. In any case, I would certainly recommend it to anyone who visits Wellington (see above). We also had a wander round the shops, and it was here I learnt that Wellington is New Zealand’s capital (I had previously assumed it was Auckland) – I know it’s awful that I didn’t know that already, but the thing is, Wellington is really small. I’d bet money that my hometown is bigger, in population and physical size, and it certainly has more shops. (A bit of research into this led me to the intriguing discovery that New Zealand’s entire population is just shy of 5 million. I’m pretty sure that’s less than Birmingham.)
On Wednesday we got the ferry to South Island, which would have been beautiful (we were sat right at the front of the boat, facing floor-to-ceiling windows) had it not been for the shrill, obnoxious children who insisted on sitting directly between the window and me and just smacked my leg out of the way when I pointedly stretched out. The journey was three hours, and frankly any longer might have pushed me to murder (my mother was impressed that I made it three hours), on the other side of which we had a longish drive to Kiakoura. The views on this drive, for the first time since we got here, were NOT shrouded in mist and rain, which made a rather nice change. When we got to our hotel, we actually changed into our shorts and spent an hour on the beach. We were pretty shocked too. The view from our balcony in Kiakoura were incredible, actually; a bay of turquoise sea, leading onto a golden sandy beach and then straight on up to snow-capped mountains – it was quite a sight (see below for proof).
Thursday we arrived in Christchurch, which was trying so hard to be England it was almost funny. Cobblestones, place names, brick houses – they even had Cambridge-esque punts on the river. I’m mocking it, but it was actually quite nice to see the town (or maybe city – it’s kind of hard to tell here) up and running – they were hit by an earthquake a few months ago that shook many buildings down to the foundations. Nobody was killed, so English newsreaders didn’t think it worth their time, but there’s still a lot of scaffolding and fresh concrete about Christchurch, though they do seem to be largely back to normal. We actually re-met up with my mum’s friend (who’s staying with her parents in Christchurch for Christmas), which was really nice – after two weeks of motels, it’s surprisingly lovely to be in someone’s home again.
Today we drove over Arthur’s Pass, running away from the rain with all due speed, and it was quite a long one – arguably not the best way to spend Christmas Eve, but to be honest it doesn’t really feel like Christmas. As I type, my dad’s fixing baubles to the hotel lights, serenaded by Annie Lennox’s carols, whilst my mum sits on the balcony in her shorts, listening to the ocean with a beer in hand. See what I mean?
Just as a quick add on to this (which I wrote a couple of days ago), Christmas day and Boxing day were also spent driving, which I rather enjoyed actually, and there were lots of stops to see various stunning views along the way. Could be worse, really.... :P
Tuesday we were in Wellington, and – true to North Island form – it was bucketing down. This being the case, we went to the Te Papa museum (indoors, you see) and learned some genuinely interesting stuff about Maoris, the first New Zealand settlers and giant squids (I’m not sure why either). The museum is the biggest in the country and was very impressive, but museums with my family tend to result in arguments – mum walks too slowly, dad walks too fast, my brother couldn’t give a toss about any of it and I want to look in THAT exhibit over THERE. In any case, I would certainly recommend it to anyone who visits Wellington (see above). We also had a wander round the shops, and it was here I learnt that Wellington is New Zealand’s capital (I had previously assumed it was Auckland) – I know it’s awful that I didn’t know that already, but the thing is, Wellington is really small. I’d bet money that my hometown is bigger, in population and physical size, and it certainly has more shops. (A bit of research into this led me to the intriguing discovery that New Zealand’s entire population is just shy of 5 million. I’m pretty sure that’s less than Birmingham.)
On Wednesday we got the ferry to South Island, which would have been beautiful (we were sat right at the front of the boat, facing floor-to-ceiling windows) had it not been for the shrill, obnoxious children who insisted on sitting directly between the window and me and just smacked my leg out of the way when I pointedly stretched out. The journey was three hours, and frankly any longer might have pushed me to murder (my mother was impressed that I made it three hours), on the other side of which we had a longish drive to Kiakoura. The views on this drive, for the first time since we got here, were NOT shrouded in mist and rain, which made a rather nice change. When we got to our hotel, we actually changed into our shorts and spent an hour on the beach. We were pretty shocked too. The view from our balcony in Kiakoura were incredible, actually; a bay of turquoise sea, leading onto a golden sandy beach and then straight on up to snow-capped mountains – it was quite a sight (see below for proof).
Thursday we arrived in Christchurch, which was trying so hard to be England it was almost funny. Cobblestones, place names, brick houses – they even had Cambridge-esque punts on the river. I’m mocking it, but it was actually quite nice to see the town (or maybe city – it’s kind of hard to tell here) up and running – they were hit by an earthquake a few months ago that shook many buildings down to the foundations. Nobody was killed, so English newsreaders didn’t think it worth their time, but there’s still a lot of scaffolding and fresh concrete about Christchurch, though they do seem to be largely back to normal. We actually re-met up with my mum’s friend (who’s staying with her parents in Christchurch for Christmas), which was really nice – after two weeks of motels, it’s surprisingly lovely to be in someone’s home again.
Today we drove over Arthur’s Pass, running away from the rain with all due speed, and it was quite a long one – arguably not the best way to spend Christmas Eve, but to be honest it doesn’t really feel like Christmas. As I type, my dad’s fixing baubles to the hotel lights, serenaded by Annie Lennox’s carols, whilst my mum sits on the balcony in her shorts, listening to the ocean with a beer in hand. See what I mean?
Just as a quick add on to this (which I wrote a couple of days ago), Christmas day and Boxing day were also spent driving, which I rather enjoyed actually, and there were lots of stops to see various stunning views along the way. Could be worse, really.... :P
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