As I set off driving south on Thursday morning, this is the landscape that greeted me along Highway 1. To get an idea of what Highway 1 is like, imagine if Tyne Boulevard stretched all the way down the coast and was the main highway between big cities, curvy and two lanes all the way (Atlanta residents, think Briarcliff Road). When Highway 1 hits a city or a town, it transforms into the main street, passing by storefronts and through a few roundabouts. Most of the small towns bear some resemblance to historic Franklin. On the map, you can see my route down Highway 1 from Christchurch to Oamaru, and then on to Dunedin. It was a beautiful day to drive down the coast, and I got to Oamaru in time to have lunch and walk around the town square before heading to the penguin colony at 3:45 for a behind-the-scenes tour. After the tour and the penguin viewing, I still had about an hour and a half left to drive to get to Dunedin - in the dark. As beautiful as Highway 1 is during the day, it is just as spooky at night. There are no streetlights, and the road was pretty much deserted. Every time headlights came over a hill in the distance in the right lane, my first thought was, "Holy shit! They're in the wrong lane!" It was like a minor emergency every few minutes. The road into Dunedin curves sharply down a very steep hill, which was treacherous, but once I was in the city, I found my bed and breakfast with no problem. I even managed to parallel park my car on the left side of the road on High Street, a San Francisco-style super-steep Dunedin street. Here's a shot of my car (a Nissan Pulsar) outside the Grandview Bed and Breakfast. I had originally booked the smallest room in the bed and breakfast, but a couple of weeks ago, the owner e-mailed me and told me that he had upgraded me to the largest room, the "Spa Room," at no cost because I was the only guest. Above on the right is a shot of my room, bed, bath, sink, and toilet all in the same space. There was also a fireplace with a vase and stereo system inside. The owner was out of town, but his friend Keith was looking after the inn. Keith was in his late sixties and very talkative. He and his wife had taken a three-month Greyhound tour around the United States, and he told me all about it. Who knew there was so much to complain about in the United States? He also told me all about his "super-annuity" (i.e., retirement or pension, which is of course not enough), and the details of his 2006 tax return. When I first arrived, he made a big deal out of how "romantic" the spa room was, even though I was obviously standing there with my backpack, tired and alone. At one point in the evening, I popped my head in the common room where Keith was watching television to ask him a question. "I'm sorry to bother you," I started out, but he interrupted me: "As John Wayne said, apology is a sign of weakness! Don't ever be sorry!" Thanks for the life lesson, Keith.
There's more to come about the Oamaru Blue Penguin Colony, yellow-eyed penguins at Sandfly Bay, and parrots at the Dunedin Botanic Garden. Stay tuned!
Just a quick update to let you know that I've made it all the way south to Dunedin (pronounced duh-NEED-in), via the Oamaru Blue Penguin Colony halfway down the coast (three hours from Christchurch to Oamaru, and another hour and a half to Dunedin). Forty-nine little blue penguins climbed up the rocky shore tonight in Oamaru (pronounced oh-ma-ROO), and tomorrow morning at sunrise I'm going with a guide to the Otago Peninsula to see the yellow-eyed penguins head into the water. Photos weren't allowed in Oamaru, but the guide for tomorrow told me he'll allow a zoom lens and video camera.
It's cold here! The temperature is well below freezing outside, and the ground is still wet from a snowfall earlier this week. I'm staying at a bed and breakfast with no central heating (of course), but I have a space heater and an electric blanket, plus a bathtub right in my room! I'm borrowing the owner's computer at the moment, so I'll post more stories and pictures when I'm back in Christchurch on Saturday.
I've been having fun at home here in Christchurch doing some portraits of Kelly and baby Nikita. Kelly is a huge fan of Anne Geddes, so we tucked Nikita into a pot with some dish towels and tried to create a Geddes image of our own. Six-week-old Nikita is very patient with having her picture taken, and we had a blast yesterday documenting all her little details. If you'd like to see all the pictures, click here to go to my photo website.
Before this trip, I had always thought Australia and New Zealand were pretty much interchangeable in terms of culture, language, accent, and the general social world. When I was booking the flight from Christchurch to Melbourne at home, I kept searching for "domestic" flights between the two cities. I also had the mistaken conception that Australia and New Zealand weren't very far away from each other.
In reality, the flight from Christchurch to Melbourne is four-and-a-half hours long (and these two cities are among the most proximate in the two countries). Traveling between the two is like international travel between the States and any other distant land: strict immigration control (for Australians and Kiwis as well as foreigners), quarantine inspections (complete with "detector dogs"), check-in two hours before flight time, and proof that you have a ticket out of either country. There is nothing "domestic" about flying between New Zealand and Australia.
The two countries have separate currencies (the Australian dollar [$0.84] and the New Zealand dollar [$0.75]), and very separate senses of national identity. Any New Zealander I met in Australia was quick to point out that he or she was a Kiwi. The accents were surprisingly different, and after a week in New Zealand, this was quickly obvious. The Australian accent sounds more like a British accent, but slightly coarser. The Kiwi accent, on the other hand, is lighter and lilts upward more often at the end of sentences. To my ear, it sounds overall friendlier than the Australian diction.
While there is an awareness of the native New Zealand population (the Maori people), here on the South Island, at least, there is little sense of tension between the Maori and the European New Zealanders. By contrast, in Australia there seemed to be a greater acknowledgment of the indigenous people and the wrongs done to them by settler Australians. A number of cultural factors contribute to this difference: the abuses of the Maori were not as bad as the Australian treatment of aboriginal peoples, the New Zealand government has issued a formal apology to the Maori, and the government continues to funnel large amounts of money into the Maori community. If there was tension, it seems to be in the past. There is a Maori-language television station, and many government signs appear in both English and Maori (at the airport, for example). In Australia, reconciliation efforts are ongoing, there is a push for a "National Sorry Day," and many shops feature aboriginal artwork and products, but the tension remains palpable. Perhaps because the country is so much bigger, the problem and its resolution are so much bigger in Australia than in New Zealand. These impressions are based solely on my few days of observation, and little research into the issues.
The contrast was made especially sharp because I was traveling between the mostly rural south island of New Zealand to one of the largest cities in Australia. Melbourne is home to 4.5 million people, and the area was extremely urban and developed. The highways were huge, along with streets of tall buildings that seemed endless. Maybe it's not fair to compare Australia and New Zealand because of this, but even so, I think I got a good impression of the people. It's my sense that people in New Zealand are somehow more connected to the land and dedicated to a simpler life. The general attitude here is much more easy-going than either Australia or especially the United States. Don't get me wrong; things like malls and McDonald's and "Dancing with the Stars" are as ubiquitous here as anywhere. It's just a sense that people are different. Christchurch is not a huge city like Melbourne, but it's not tiny, either. With 400,000 people, it's about the size of Nashville. And yet the main south highway is two lanes, and you might have to stop for sheep or cows. When dogs killed penguins on Camerons Beach, the story made headlines on the six-o'clock news.
I won't be traveling to the north island, where the bigger city of Auckland (population 1.3 million) likely creates a more urban feel. In addition, there is a much larger Maori population on the north island, and it's possible that racial tensions run higher up there. I had such a great time in Melbourne, but I find that I much prefer the smaller and simpler environment here. I was so happy to land finally at Christchurch's tiny little airport. I was proud to be able to direct the taxi driver through the North Shore streets and up to my house by the beach, where the lights had been left on and the door left open just for me.
We met up with our tour group outside St. Paul's Cathedral at noon, and we were off to Phillip Island. There were seven of us in all: a couple from Michigan, a couple from Brisbane, Australia, A.-J., me, and our guide, Carmen. The drive was relaxing; Carmen offered really interesting information about the landscape and the animals, but mostly she kept the commentary to a minimum. Along the way, we stopped at a winery where we sampled a number of not-very-good wines (except the port, according to A.-J.). In the fields behind the winery, we saw some beautiful Australian rosellas, birds that look a little like parrots, but with primarily red and blue feathers. Click on the photos below to see the rosellas close-up: Next, we pulled into Maru Koala and Fauna Park, where we had a canned photo opportunity with a world-weary koala bear followed by a cafeteria lunch. After lunch, we toured the fauna park. First stop: wombats. Who knew about wombats? They are marsupials who burrow and live underground. As a result, they have downward-facing pouches. See that anus-looking opening between the wombat's legs? That's the opening to the pouch. This wombat, named Tara, seemed resigned to her life in the fauna park, and was happy to pose for pictures as long as we were interested. Post-wombat, we moved on to the Tasmanian devil. I don't have any pictures of the Tasmanian devil, because he was hiding inside a log. According to the guide, he is very dangerous and can bite through both bones in a person's arm with no problem. Next came the crocodile, who could have been dead for all we know. They don't feed the crocodile during the winter because apparently he stores up food during the other seasons and draws off those resources during the winter months. The crocodile didn't move the whole time we were in the room. On we went, passing by a yard of very sedate dingoes, pictured below. I couldn't help but hear Meryl Streep and her desperate Australian accent in my ear: "The dingo ate my baby!" We went from the dingos to a couple of very dopey, very enthusiastic emus. Here's a quick video of our experience feeding the emu.
Next we encountered another koala bear. In Victoria (the state where Melbourne is located), it is apparently illegal for people other than animal handlers even to touch a koala bear, so we received a number of stern warnings. The koala seemed almost aware of his fame and untouchability, and possibly a bit drunk on the giant quantity of eucalyptus leaves he was ingesting. He lay on his branch and didn't pay much attention to us. The sign below sort of sums up the koala's attitude toward everyone around him. But around the corner from the koala bear was the afternoons biggest surprise: kangaroos! The kangaroos were polite, tame, and absolutely delightful. They hop around just like on cartoons, and when you hold out a handful of food, they nuzzle your hand and reach up gently with their two little hands to pull your hand down to their level. In the photos below, you can see their little paws with black claws holding on very gently and carefully. They are possibly the sweetest, cutest animals I have ever seen. We spent the bulk of our time with the kangaroos, who seemed never to tire of our company, whether we were feeding them or scratching them behind the ears. Most of the kangaroos we saw were young, since they grow to be six or seven feet tall. We encountered one very large kangaroo who didn't seem to know his own strength; when he reached up to pull my hand down, he nearly knocked me over. He was taller than I am, and he looked like maybe he worked out. Here is a short video that features a kangaroo hopping, eating out of our hands, and cleverly getting hold of the food bowl and pulling it down to his level.
We said our final goodbyes to the kangaroos, and at last we were on our way to Phillip Island and the sunset Penguin Parade. A.-J. and I enjoyed yet another cute little gift shop and indulged in some penguin and kangaroo paraphernalia, including tiny penguin snowglobes. We splurged and upgraded our tickets to "Penguin Plus" so we could sit closer to the action. I was crushed to learn that there was absolutely no photography allowed near the penguins. It seems that the bright light from flashes hurts the penguins, so to be extra-cautious, the caretakers on Phillip Island outlawed all photography, even video and flash-less cameras. Even though I was disappointed, it couldn't dampen my excitement about finally arriving at the Penguin Parade. I was prepared with my hat, scarf, and gloves, but it didn't turn out to be quite as cold as we had been warned. A.-J. opted not to wear her ridiculous hat, but I wore my own ridiculous hat with pride. Around 5:45 p.m., we saw the white bellies of the first penguins bobbing in the waves, and then they started to walk up the beach. The pictures below are photographs I bought in the gift shop, and they show exactly how the penguins look as they make their way up the beach and into their burrowed homes. Some of the penguins (the younger ones) walk over a mile to get to their homes. We even encountered a penguin crossing the road as we drove off Phillip Island.
Our island guide had informed us that this is a "false mating season" for the Little Blue (or Fairy) Penguins. Something about the length of the days at this time tricks the penguins into thinking it's time to mate, so they head up to the beach. The guide explained that most penguins are monogamous, but "penguin promiscuity" was not uncommon. That is, if a penguins call out and have to wait too long for their mates, they might just find another penguin to shack up with. More than 400 penguins marched up the beach that night, honking and stopping and starting, several couples walking arm-in-arm (wing-in-wing?). They seemed pretty organized about where they were headed, but at one point, a group headed up a hill, got halfway there, stopped, and then turned around and came back down. We also saw a penguin couple start calling and quacking and dancing around each other, and then they threw themselves down in the sand and started having sex! It wasn't what I was expecting, but I guess we had been warned about penguin promiscuity. Other penguin couples met up and headed into the bushes to shake things up. Some penguins just stood completely still, alone, staring straight ahead. Most penguins just kept walking, leaning slightly forward, getting things done. We watched the penguins for about an hour and a half, and then piled in the van for the two-hour drive back to Melbourne. Once we arrived back at St. Paul's Cathedral in the center of town, we rode the train for another hour back out to Box Hill. There is a heavy immigrant community in Box Hill, and the area is almost like an Australian Chinatown, so we thought we'd find a nice Chinese restaurant and have a late dinner before walking back to Margaret's house. We chose a nice-looking place with white tablecloths and set menu, and the food and the service were both very good. Halfway through the third course, though, A.-J. looked up and stopped chewing. "Maria, a rat just ran up the wall," she said. We considered that for a few seconds. Then we decided that the rat wasn't going to bother us, so we kept on eating. As we finished dinner, we were the only people left in the restaurant, and we noticed that the waiters had also become aware of the rat. They seemed to be trying to play it cool, but they were looking up at the same spot and chattering to each other in Chinese about it. Since I hadn't seen the rat to begin with, I walked over and looked up with them. Out of a small hole in the wall up near the heating unit stuck a little nose and whiskers. The waiters smiled at me nervously. Back at the table, one came over to explain: "The rat comes every night at this time!" Shortly after, the head waiter (manager?) came over with his explanation: "I never see this rat before tonight." A few minutes later, another waiter dropped by with his story: "At my house, rats come to heating unit, too." We paid, chalked it up to yet another experience of Australian wildlife, and walked home at the end of a splendid day.
With an hour to spare before our day-long tour to Phillip Island, A.-J. and I ducked into St. Paul's Anglican Cathedral in the heart of Melbourne city. The cathedral was built on the site of the first Christian services in Melbourne in 1836. The present cathedral was consecrated in 1891, and construction of the magnificent building continued well into the twentieth century. The exterior ornaments and interior design are far more ornate than Christchurch Cathedral, with exquisite wood carvings (including a possum climbing up a column in the rear of the church!), detailed mosaic tile floors, and a massive gold podium in the shape of an eagle.
I arrived in Melbourne on Thursday, where I was invited to stay with A.-J. with the Sisters of Our Lady of Sion. The nuns live in a little cluster of houses in Box Hill, each one with her own separate little house. A.-J. and I stayed with Margaret, a very proper 80-year-old Australian nun who always made sure that we had everything we needed, including a constant flow of bikkies and a cuppa (i.e., cookies and a cup of tea or coffee). Margaret and several of the other nuns (most of them near her age) insisted on driving us everywhere we needed to go, and including long scenic tours of Melbourne city along the way. There were many sudden stops and starts, much gripping of the door handle on my part, and absolute refusal to look at a map whenever we got lost (which happened nearly every time we set out). One of the sisters, Celia (who goes by the "street name" Sis), drives like a pro, and fortunately she took us to the airport.
It was so great to be able to stay with the sisters. Margaret took such good care of us, and I enjoyed having a glimpse inside her life as a nun. The Sisters of Our Lady of Sion are devoted to advancing Jewish-Christian relations, and they were so excited to have someone like A.-J. staying in their community and speaking around the city under their sponsorship. When we pulled away on Sunday, the entire community gathered in the street to wave goodbye to A.-J. and thank her again and again. I am so grateful to the sisters for giving me a place to stay and including me in everything. Even though the driving was a little more exciting than I'm used to, it was a fabulous way to see Melbourne! A.-J., Margaret, and I had lunch on Thursday in a lovely restaurant by the river, the Studley Park Cafe. A.-J. happily ordered pork belly over polenta with carmelized onions. We saw this parrot in a tree outside the restaurant. Wild parrots are fairly common in this part of Australia. A.-J. and Margaret "having a cuppa" in Margaret's kitchen. A.-J. kicks off her shoes and begins her lecture, "Anti-Judaism in Christian Biblical Scholarship," at the Leo Baeck Center, a Liberal (similar to Reform) synagogue in Melbourne. With A.-J. after the lecture. A.-J. with Sister Kathleen having a glass of wine. The sisters love to drink wine, so we had wine and bikkies every night.
I'm glad to be back to my familiar little room in Christchurch after an absolutely fabulous trip to Melbourne. I've got lots of pictures and a couple of little videos from my trip with A.-J. to Phillip Island. En route to the Penguin Parade, we saw koalas, dingoes, wombats, crocodiles, emus, and kangaroos. We are so smitten with the kangaroos that we think they might edge out the penguins for sweetest, cutest animal of the day. But only by a hair; the penguins (we saw 400 of them!) were cute as buttons.
It's late here in Christchurch and I just got in, but stay tuned for the whole story and lots of pictures. Below you'll find a preview of things to come. Time to fire up the space heater and get some sleep!
Greetings from Melbourne, Australia! I met up with A.-J. here on Thursday, and I'm staying with her and a small group of nuns, the Sisters of Our Lady of Sion, in Box Hill, a suburb about an hour east of downtown Melbourne. Last night, I attended A.-J.'s talk on anti-Judaism in Christian biblical scholarship at a local synagogue, the Leo Baeck Centre. Earlier in the day, we drove out to a very picturesque riverside restaurant, the Studley Park Cafe. A.-J. and I and Sister Margaret, our host, had a beautiful lunch. In the park outside, I even saw two parrots squawking in the trees!
Tomorrow, we're off on a day-long tour: the Penguin Parade at Phillip Island. Along with penguins, we're supposed to be able to feed kangaroos and see koala bears. The penguins we will see are little blue penguins (like the ones in Christchurch), but this time they're in the wild. At sunset, the penguins run up from the water and burrow into the sand for the night. It's this sunset display that we'll be watching.
I've got lots of pictures, but limited internet access here. I'll post images from A.-J.'s talk, a pair of parrots, wine with the sisters, and the Penguin Parade as soon as I get back to Christchurch (late Sunday night). It's supposed to be really cold out on Phillip Island, and A.-J. and I both have new hats to wear. Stay tuned to see if she actually wears the very warm (but also very ridiculous) hat I picked up for her today!
Kelly, Gail's daughter, with her five-week-old daughter, Nikita Madison. Nikita waning. Roxy, the extremely obedient and respectful Jack Russell terrier who loves to fetch. 10 Ballance Street, North Shore, Christchurch
Of course, dryers are not common in New Zealand. I have grateful access to a washer, though, and the air is so dry here that the towel-warmer works perfectly!
New Zealand (Click to enlarge)
Australia and New Zealand
New Zealand in the World
Present Time
New Zealand is 17 hours ahead of Nashville. In New Zealand, it is seven hours earlier than Nashville, thenext day. For example, when it is 2 p.m. in Nashville on Monday, it is 7 a.m. in New Zealand on Tuesday. In Melbourne, Australia, it is two hours earlier than in New Zealand. You can check the time here: The World Clock.
