New Zealand
The Curly Tree whitebait patties stand on New Zealand's South Island
Our cheerful chef. (Try saying those last two words three times, fast.)
One or two of us opted to shoot photos of their more adventurous counterparts instead of eating the patties.
The greeter at the Auckland airport
Scene at the Chinese New Year celebration in Auckland
Prince greets Ray in the tradtional Maori manner.
Prince, Auckland Maori leader
An eye-catcher at WOW
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 Whitebait patties on the grill
Whitebait: a collective term for the immature fry of fish, typically between 25 and 50 millimeters (1 to 2 inches) long. . . . Whitebait are tender and edible and … regarded as a delicacy. The entire fish is eaten including head, fins, bones, and guts. . . . (Wikipedia)
Those New Zealanders don’t mince words. Our intrepid band of adventurers was introduced to whitebait in the flesh, so to speak, without benefit of the above explanation. Before partaking, however, we coaxed the truth from our evasive kiwi guide, and after watching the cheerful chef at work, most of us mustered up the courage to sample the only item on the menu, whitebait patties on gluten-free bread. Honestly, it’s better than it sounds. Mixed into an egg batter, whitebait makes a surprisingly mild but tasty snack. Add a fresh breeze off the nearby Tasman Sea and you have a perfect stop in a long travel day. Fourteen travelers, plus guide and driver, were midway through a two-week tour of New Zealand. For me, to be in New Zealand is to speak the language, to have all the amenities of modern life, to feel strangely at home, but also strangely untethered in a new land. So much is reversed. To go south is to enter a chilly clime of snow-covered peaks and glacier-fed streams; to go north is to hike through warm volcanic valleys as steam seeps from the ground in primordial mist. Everywhere, traffic comes from the “wrong” side of the road. “Look to the right before you cross the street,” I was warned as I set out to explore Auckland soon after we arrived. What People See It’s interesting, what people happen to notice when they travel abroad. Chatting with a clerk in one of those ubiquitous New Zealand shops that sell gloves and scarves and other winter wear made of possum fur, I told her I had little need for her wares since I live in Southern California. “Oh, I lived there for a couple of years,” she said. “You know what I noticed first thing? When I flushed the toilet, the water swirled the wrong way!” And what impressed me most about New Zealand? Well, aside from the giant statue of some Middle-earth person overseeing arrivals in the Auckland airport, the rich Maori traditions, the long scenic stretches of highway devoid of traffic, the soaring peaks, the rolling farmland . . . I’d say it was the friendly, trusting people. No security check for domestic flights leaving Rotorua and Christchurch, no bag check at the fabulous (and free) national museum in Wellington. And by the way, want to take photos? Shoot away almost anywhere except in the Parliament building. Of course, to a security conscious American, it can be disconcerting to discover your hotel room in the toasty north of the country A) isn’t air-conditioned; B) has no screens on the windows which open onto a balcony walk accessible to flying insects and anyone who cares to climb a flight of stairs, and C) no safe in which to store cash and passports. Oh, well … Our tour began in Auckland, New Zealand’s largest city, where about a quarter of its 4.5 million inhabitants reside. With a couple of behemoth cruise ships in port, World Cup cricket matches in progress, and Chinese New Year celebrations, Auckland was bustling. The day after we arrived, however, we gathered on the uncrowded grounds around the War Memorial Museum for an introduction to Maori history and culture by “Prince,” leader of Auckland’s host Maori tribe. We Meet a Maori Leader After a welcome in both English and Maori, Prince invited Ray, one of our travelers, to represent us in the traditional Maori greeting. Replacing the handshake of our culture, the greeting involves touching hands (representing the sharing of feeling), noses (the sharing of breath) and foreheads (the sharing of thought). It’s a spiritual, as well as a physical, experience. Prince spoke at length about Maori history, mirroring in many ways that of so many indigenous peoples on the planet: the attempts of European settlers to abolish their native language, the take-over of tribal lands, political marginalization, for instance. Although still suffering higher rates of poverty than the pakeha, New Zealanders of European descent, Maori have actively advocated for themselves, and their influence and presence is everywhere apparent—in government institutions, where all official documents must be in both Maori and English; major museums, which devote many exhibits to Maori history and artifacts, and the media, both print and electronic. After leaving Prince, many of us chose to tour the War Memorial Museum. The name misleads: the building contained a wide variety of displays, the most unique being the temporary exhibit called WOW: World of Wearable Art. But wearable by whom??? I couldn't help but wonder. Scenes from the World of Wearable Art
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Flowers in the War Memorial park fernery
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On to Rotorua
From Auckland, it was on to Rotorua, a center of Maori culture, in the heart of volcano country. Enroute, we stopped briefly outside the Turangawaewae marae, the tribal meeting place and official residence of Tuheitia Paki, a former truck driver who became king of the Maoris of all New Zealand in 2006 after the death of his mother, who had reigned for 40 years. The marae was a modest affair for a king, something you could easily drive by with scarcely a second glance unless you noticed the impressive carved gate barring entrance. The following evening we visited the Mitai Maori Village in Rotorua. There, after watching canoes full of intimidating “warriors” arrive, we were treated to a performance of the traditional haka, the ancient tribal war dance and fierce display of strength. Having survived this mock-fearsome ordeal, we were welcomed by a very civilized host and treated to food prepared in the traditional Maori hangi, a pit oven in which food is cooked over heated coals and rocks for several hours. Yummy! Food service, on the other hand, was another matter. Picking up our food buffet style, we bought wine at the "no host" bar, and dined at long buffet tables with several hundred other visitors. Definitely not a cultural immersion experience. But great fun, nonetheless. (By the way, clicking on a picure on this--and any other page on the site will enlarge them so you can see more detail.) |
The carved gate at the entrance to the Turangawaewae marae
The warriors arrive on the scene.
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Dinner being prepared in the traditional Maori hangi, a pit oven
A haka dancer
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Leaving Rotorua
While that was our last scheduled visit with the Maori, there was another fascinating chance encounter. As we lined up to board the plane for our flight from Rotorua to Christchurch, a large group of Maori rose and started singing with heads bowed prayerfully. At the same time, another Maori group, young adults, joined our line to board the plane.
On the plane I was seated in the midst of them. Those who had been singing, I learned, were other members of their community seeing them off and—unless I’m guilty of gross misinterpretation—having little faith in the power of the plane to stay in the air without divine intervention. Judging by the gasps and occasional screech of some as we flew through the famously unstable kiwi air, I’d guess there weren’t many frequent flyers among them.
With a bit of prodding, my seatmate told me he and his companions were going to Christchurch for a national haka competition. Knowing unemployment was a major problem for many Maoris, I hesitated to get too personal, but my curiosity got the best of me and I eventually asked him kind of work he did.
“Possums,” he replied. “I hunt possums.”
While that was our last scheduled visit with the Maori, there was another fascinating chance encounter. As we lined up to board the plane for our flight from Rotorua to Christchurch, a large group of Maori rose and started singing with heads bowed prayerfully. At the same time, another Maori group, young adults, joined our line to board the plane.
On the plane I was seated in the midst of them. Those who had been singing, I learned, were other members of their community seeing them off and—unless I’m guilty of gross misinterpretation—having little faith in the power of the plane to stay in the air without divine intervention. Judging by the gasps and occasional screech of some as we flew through the famously unstable kiwi air, I’d guess there weren’t many frequent flyers among them.
With a bit of prodding, my seatmate told me he and his companions were going to Christchurch for a national haka competition. Knowing unemployment was a major problem for many Maoris, I hesitated to get too personal, but my curiosity got the best of me and I eventually asked him kind of work he did.
“Possums,” he replied. “I hunt possums.”
The threatened native vegetation now thriving on Sanctuary Mountain
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By that time, I’d been in New Zealand long enough to know that possums, while not the only imported pests in the country, are the major offenders. Non-native, they were brought from Australia long ago and, with no natural predators, have proliferated and become a major threat to the environment. Country-wide, they’re believed to consume 20 tons of vegetation per night and large swaths have been denuded of native vegetation.
New Zealand, in fact, was one of the last land masses to be inhabited by humans, and until man came, the only animal life on the islands consisted of birds; with no natural predators some of them, like the kiwis, became flightless. Humans, of course, eventually brought in all manner of foreign animal life and the only avian kiwi we saw was in a dimly lit indoor enclosure in Hokitika—dimly lit because the kiwi is nocturnal and inactive if there’s too much light. Because habitat destruction is such a major issue, many New Zealanders are actively involved in attempting to return it to its earlier state and I was impressed not only by the government’s focus on issues of the environment and conservation, but on the numbers of volunteers who play active roles. |
A volunteer tracks the falcons being lured back to Rotorua on the North Island of New Zealand. He's just one of thousands of volunteers who are working to help native flora and fauna thrive and return to some semblance of the conditions which existed before the introduction and growth in number of non-native species (and humans).
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Luring Back the Falcons
Strolling about the immaculately groomed grounds of the Rotorua Town Hall, I encountered an interesting fellow moving about, pointing a strange blue contraption skyward, and apparently tracking something that only he could see. After checking the sky (and seeing nothing) and observing him for a few minutes before deciding he was harmless, I asked what he was doing. I soon knew more about the destruction of falcon habitat than 99 per cent of people on the planet. As it turns out, a group of dedicated bird lovers has implanted signaling devices in falcons they’re attempting to lure back to Rotorua by placing food in open cupolas atop the city hall. This cheerful volunteer paid $1,000 for the lifetime privilege of scanning the sky with the gadget that picks up not the sight of the falcons, but the sound of their implants as they fly about the area. “There are several of them here today,” he reported happily. |
Beautiful Rotorua Museum of Art and History
where falcons now fetch food from a rooftop cupola while the surrounding park hosts band concerts, community gatherings, and family outings on a warm Sunday afternoon.
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The long narrow steps which we climbed to a platform high in the forest of Sanctuary Mountain
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 On the platform
By far, the most extensive effort we saw to restore natural flora and fauna was on Sanctuary Mountain. There, more than 8,000 acres have been enclosed by a 29-mile pest- proof fence, which keeps predators out and has allowed native undergrowth in the tall forest to regenerate and thrive. Several native animals, including kiwis, geckos, and giant wetas (the heaviest insects in the world) have been successfully reintroduced in the enclosed area and some are now being released into the surrounding open spaces.
The small paid staff (the equivalent of 12 full-time people) is assisted by 400 unpaid helpers. We were led on our tour by a knowledgeable young volunteer who pointed out that the enclosure is constantly monitored and maintained. If a branch falls on the wire atop the fence, a text is automatically sent to staff who immediately inspect the site and make any necessary repairs. Predators are relentless in their attempts to enter the protected area and mere minutes heightens the danger of a breach. |
Starting our hike through the steamy Waimangu Volcanic Valley.
On to Waimangu
Nearby, we had a very different outdoor experience as we hiked through the steam where natural forces have had their way with the environment, unaided by man and unimpeded by predators. The Waimangu Volcanic Valley, the result of the eruption of Mt. Terawera in 1886, is billed as the world’s youngest geothermal system. According to Barry, our guide, the eruption completely changed the landscape in a period of about four hours. Still active, occasional smaller eruptions occur and warm vapor constantly rises as the earth continues to vent. It looks—and feels—primordial. Cameras placed in strategic locations throughout the terrain take photos at regular intervals to record visible geothermal changes.
In addition to the vigorous environmentalists, New Zealand is home to avid gardeners who thrive on a very different approach: the creation of stylized, completely tamed, not-to-be-missed Hamilton Gardens that cover the former disposal site of the city of Hamilton’s trash. A sprawling facility featuring five garden “collections,” each containing three to six separate, complete displays, the gardens are a feast for the eyes. There was just one problem. We arrived and were turned loose to explore on our own with no introduction to the lay of the land. For the directionally challenged, it was easy to get, uh … lost.
Nearby, we had a very different outdoor experience as we hiked through the steam where natural forces have had their way with the environment, unaided by man and unimpeded by predators. The Waimangu Volcanic Valley, the result of the eruption of Mt. Terawera in 1886, is billed as the world’s youngest geothermal system. According to Barry, our guide, the eruption completely changed the landscape in a period of about four hours. Still active, occasional smaller eruptions occur and warm vapor constantly rises as the earth continues to vent. It looks—and feels—primordial. Cameras placed in strategic locations throughout the terrain take photos at regular intervals to record visible geothermal changes.
In addition to the vigorous environmentalists, New Zealand is home to avid gardeners who thrive on a very different approach: the creation of stylized, completely tamed, not-to-be-missed Hamilton Gardens that cover the former disposal site of the city of Hamilton’s trash. A sprawling facility featuring five garden “collections,” each containing three to six separate, complete displays, the gardens are a feast for the eyes. There was just one problem. We arrived and were turned loose to explore on our own with no introduction to the lay of the land. For the directionally challenged, it was easy to get, uh … lost.
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A Study in Contrast: Waimangu Volcanic Valley and Hamilton Gardens
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Waimangue Volcanic Valley, Top Row: Left, steam rises from the ground in the distance. Middle, perpetual steam looks like fog over a warm pond. Right, a pond, appearing to be thickly muddy is actually covered with living water fern; ducks (not visible here) swim in the water.
Hamilton Gardens, Bottom Row: Left, a pristine formal British garden awaits visitors. Right, a Maori landscape is peopled with carved figures. Right, a pathway winds its way around an inviting Asian scene.
Hamilton Gardens, Bottom Row: Left, a pristine formal British garden awaits visitors. Right, a Maori landscape is peopled with carved figures. Right, a pathway winds its way around an inviting Asian scene.
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Arriving for lunch at a thriving dairy farm
Time for Lunch
Highlights of any trip with Overseas Adventures, the group I traveled with, include a home visit or two. The first was on the North Island dairy farm of Ray and Dorothy, certified organic farmers who served us a mouth-watering lunch of tea sandwiches, fruit, “bread biscuits” and sweets. My favorite was the bread biscuit. Try it sometime:
3 cups, grated cheese, aged cheddar recommended
3 eggs
3 slices bacon, cut fine
onion, chopped fine
salt and pepper
Highlights of any trip with Overseas Adventures, the group I traveled with, include a home visit or two. The first was on the North Island dairy farm of Ray and Dorothy, certified organic farmers who served us a mouth-watering lunch of tea sandwiches, fruit, “bread biscuits” and sweets. My favorite was the bread biscuit. Try it sometime:
3 cups, grated cheese, aged cheddar recommended
3 eggs
3 slices bacon, cut fine
onion, chopped fine
salt and pepper
Our hosts explain the the routine in their open air milking parlor.
Mix the above together. Remove crusts from bread. Butter the bread liberally and place in a cupcake tin, butter side down. Pour in the above mixture. Bake at 375 for 30 minutes (or thereabouts).
No low cal on this dairy farm!
Before touring the farm and the gleaming open-air milking parlor, we gathered in the comfy living room where Ray and Dorothy told us about life in the dairy business. Theirs is a family operation, and while Dorothy handles much of the paperwork, their son, who lives nearby, helps Ray with the constant demands of farming. The price they’re paid for milk fluctuates wildly, they said. With miles and miles of fertile farmland, New Zealanders produce far more than they can consume, and 95 percent of their milk is exported to Asia, usually in the form of cheese, powder, or other products with a long shelf life.
No low cal on this dairy farm!
Before touring the farm and the gleaming open-air milking parlor, we gathered in the comfy living room where Ray and Dorothy told us about life in the dairy business. Theirs is a family operation, and while Dorothy handles much of the paperwork, their son, who lives nearby, helps Ray with the constant demands of farming. The price they’re paid for milk fluctuates wildly, they said. With miles and miles of fertile farmland, New Zealanders produce far more than they can consume, and 95 percent of their milk is exported to Asia, usually in the form of cheese, powder, or other products with a long shelf life.
 Trevor discusses sheep farming.
The Amazing Eye Dog
Later, on the South Island, we visited another family operation—Toby Hill, where the star of the show was Pete, a bright-eyed, eager sheep dog who lives to herd. He waited with us eagerly, watching Trevor's every move, anticipating he was about to be put to work. When Trevor opened the gate, Pete streaked in without a sound and disappeared over a rise. Soon, we had our first glimpse of a small flock as they raced over the rise and stopped to cluster close to us. Satisfied that they were where they should be, Pete kept them in place by simply looking at them. Never a bark, never a hesitation. Trevor explained that Pete was what is called an "eye dog," bred to herd sheep and keep them under control simply by quick movement and intensity of gaze. A sheep shearing by Trevor followed. He also explained how the raw wool is bagged and compressed for shipping: Four-hundred-pound bales are compressed to half their original size before being placed in shipping containers. After arriving at their destination, the stays holding them together are clipped and—viola!—the bales expand to original size. Trevor and Heather maintain a flock of 400 sheep and a herd of 100 cattle, all of which are kept outside with a mild climate year-round. As though that were not enough, they also have a colorfully landscaped facility, separate from the farming operation, available to rent for weddings, reunions, and other social events. |
The sheep--some shorn, some still sporting their heavy wool coats--stop in a cluster where Pete had herded them.
Pete, the eye dog, at work
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Aurum Winery vineyard, completely netted
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In Wine Country
We’d been told that almost any crop can be grown somewhere in New Zealand with its varied climate and topography, and another stop in rich farm country provided convincing evidence of just how productive New Zealand soil can be. Near Queenstown, we visited the Aurum Winery where 10 acres of land provide major support for three generations. After a walk around the netting-covered vineyard and through the orchard of varied fruit, we were treated to wine samples and snacks. On the last night of the trip, some of us helped those who had purchased more wine than they could pack lighten their load. It was party time! On to Milford Sound |
Sampling Aurum wine
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Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.
--Gustave Flaubert I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list. --Susan Sontag |
 A Milford Sound scene
Before leaving the South Island, however, we cruised Milford Sound, our vessel surrounded by soaring peaks and thunderous waterfalls on a gray, drizzly day. Almost as impressive as the sound itself was the bus ride there from Queenstown on two-lane Highway 94 that curled around, climbed up and swooped down mountainsides.
The next day, we embarked on a different watery adventure—taking to the jet boats on the Dart River. It was a wild ride, requiring a waterproof cover-up and firm grip on the grab bar! Our "driver" delighted in quick swirl on the very shallow river. No still photo can do the ride justice. This was followed by a tamer bus and walking tour of Lord of the Rings country. |
Linda, Carol, and Barb cruising Milford Sound
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Jerry, Pete and Al, the lucky guys they're married to, doing the same thing.
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All dressed up for the Dart River ride
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 The bearded miners' cabin in the heart of Reefton
Reefton:Shades of the Old American West
A stop in Reefton rounded out our South Island stay. Chief claim to fame? It was the first town in the southern hemisphere to have electricity. It’s a touristy little burg that felt much like a town in the old American west, complete with a replica of a bearded miners’ camp, complete with (you guessed it) bearded miners. They served us tea and scones, cooked in authentic old-time pots over an open fire. Only photos can capture the spirit of the place. Winding down our tour, we flew from Christchurch to Wellington, the capital of New Zealand—and speaking of what you notice as you travel in a new land, here’s what I noticed in Wellington: in the airport, they have escalators going down, but not up! What’s that about? In Wellington, we visited the Weta Cave, a small museum which displayed (and sold, of course) Lord of the Rings memorabilia. Some of our group then chose to tour the Weta Workshop where artists and technicians specialize in amazingness for the movies. I decided, instead, to spend more time at that national museum I mentioned earlier—official name, Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa (meaning “container of treasures"), commonly called just Te Papa. Even with the extra time I spent there, I couldn’t begin to see it all. |
A bearded miner cook at work
School kids enter the national museum in Wellington. Hats are required for sun protection.
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The "beehive," central government office building in Wellington
Going Home
On our last day in the country, some of us took a short walk to the parliament and central government offices for an early morning tour. With close connections to “mother country” Britain, New Zealand’s democratic structure is quite different from that of the U.S., and a guide did his best to help us understand what seemed to us a complicated system. One surprising note: he showed us the upper house chamber, but said, “Actually, there is no upper house any more. In 1951, the members decided they were extraneous and abolished themselves, so to speak.” Kind of refreshing, I thought. The country now has a unicameral legislature, the House of Representatives.
With that, it was time to fly away home, and as usual at the end of a group tour, leaving meant saying good-by to people who, after two short weeks, felt like long-time friends. In our group of 14, we had eight Hoosiers—down to earth, friendly, casual people (like everyone else on the tour)—six of whom hailed from Indianapolis, about 70 miles from where I had grown up. We bonded, and here we are.
On our last day in the country, some of us took a short walk to the parliament and central government offices for an early morning tour. With close connections to “mother country” Britain, New Zealand’s democratic structure is quite different from that of the U.S., and a guide did his best to help us understand what seemed to us a complicated system. One surprising note: he showed us the upper house chamber, but said, “Actually, there is no upper house any more. In 1951, the members decided they were extraneous and abolished themselves, so to speak.” Kind of refreshing, I thought. The country now has a unicameral legislature, the House of Representatives.
With that, it was time to fly away home, and as usual at the end of a group tour, leaving meant saying good-by to people who, after two short weeks, felt like long-time friends. In our group of 14, we had eight Hoosiers—down to earth, friendly, casual people (like everyone else on the tour)—six of whom hailed from Indianapolis, about 70 miles from where I had grown up. We bonded, and here we are.
Dancing in from Aptos in northern California, Ray and Anne
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. . . and joining us from outside Ft. Wayne, Indiana, Janet and Kent
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And here we have Sally from Stillwater, Minnesota,
and her sister and brother-in-law, Bob and Patty,
from Sun City West, Arizona
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The Indianapolis contingent: Linda, Jerry, Carol, Al, Barb, and Pete
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And finally ... me
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This trip was taken with Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT). To obtain a referral discount for first-time travel
on any OAT trip, contact Marj via the "Contact Marj" form on the home page.
* * *
This trip was taken with Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT). To obtain a referral discount for first-time travel
on any OAT trip, contact Marj via the "Contact Marj" form on the home page.
* * *