If there was a theme to our three week trip around New Zealand then it was serendipity - the faculty for making fortunate discoveries by accident. For example, with no planning at all Pete and I managed to drive into the Bay of Islands, the place where the treaty with the Maori people was signed in 1840, on the very day the act was being celebrated - Waitangi Day.
But the most outstanding example of serendipity was our meeting with Sharon, a former work colleague who retired from the police in January.
I knew that Sharon was retiring as the local newspaper had done a big article about her, describing her outstanding career as a detective and how much she has done to promote the rights of female police officers. Sharon was awarded the Queen's Police Medal for her dedication to policing.
The article sparked a memory of talking to Sharon last July at the retirement function of another former colleague. It was a dim memory as I had intended to pop in for a quick pint and say goodbye at about 5 O'clock and was still there at eleven.
At the party Sharon confided to me her plans to retire and that she would be visiting Australia and New Zealand as soon as she did. We made a tentative agreement to meet up in NZ. I made a profound promise of 'See you in New Zealand, Sharon' , which I forgot by the time I reached the bar.
As our trip reached its final week, Pete and I drove across New Zealand from Te Anau to Dunedin. En route we opted to stop off at the small town of Gore for a coffee. Duly refreshed we mooched up and down the main street of the town and then popped into a bakers to buy a sandwich for the journey. The baker was about to close (yes, half day closing - it still happens in NZ) but she kindly pointed us towards a cafe that would oblige. It was the same one we had visited earlier so we crossed the road and went back in.
As we pondered the sandwich options there was a familiar voice behind us.
'What are you two buggers doing here?'
Serendipity had struck once more and we turned to see the smiling face of Sharon.
After meeting Sharon's mum and her cousins we agreed to meet Sharon for a meal in Christchurch on our final evening.
Serendipity also played a hand in determining where Pete and I stayed in Christchurch. The B and B I originally booked was unable to take us due to some building work, but they arranged for us to stay with Ngarie and Garry, a kind and generous couple who have left a lasting impression on me. Unfortunately, I also left a less than welcome impression with them.
We met Sharon and her lovely cousin Jane in a gastro pub near the city centre. I smugly showed off my new Maori tattoo, which had only been done hours earlier.
Shaun had done me proud. The tattoo was much bigger than I had imagined it would be and, as promised, it tells my story. It is truly a work of art that depicts not just my family but also the rings of Te Wheke, the octopus, to denote wisdom and the eye of Kiatiaki, my guardian.
The tattoo is on my upper arm, quite close to a tattoo of two lion footprints which to me denote my freedom and my affinity with Africa. When I showed Shaun the lion prints he said:
'Man, it looks like you've had the mini-paws.' He is such a wit that Shaun.
The evening with Sharon and Jane was a very pleasant and fitting end to our NZ journey. The Black Shag, one of several beers brewed at the pub, was very much to my taste and 'One for the road' soon became 'Two for the road'.
I awoke next morning to two horrors. No, not Sharon and Jane you dirty devil. Horror number one was I had a dreadful hangover due to more Black Shags than I'm used to. Horror number two was seeing the perfect impression of my beloved tattoo on my pillow case and bed sheet. A very expensive pillow case and bed sheet as it turned out and when I confessed my sin to Ngarie her face went as white as her Oprah quality organic cotton linen had once been.
To her great credit, Ngarie was very good about the whole thing and even fixed me up with a variety of hangover cures. I wasn't so good and promptly threw them back up. As you know by now, travel for me is all about voyaging to distant lands so I can puke over them.
Anyway, after my chat to God in one of Ngarie's many loos I collapsed on the ink-stained bed. This was somewhat unfortunate as I was supposed to be driving Pete to the airport as he had a connection to Auckland to make.
Acting above and beyond the call of duty the ever-patient Ngarie whisked Pete away and left me to die in peace.
I must have retained a small amount of the hangover cure as 2 hours later I emerged from my room shamefaced but revived.
Kiatiaki, my guardian, obviously knew what she was doing when she led me to Ngarie and Garry as the former kindly prepared my breakfast for the second time and uttered words of sympathy that I clearly didn't deserve.
We parted as friends. Ngarie posed for a photo with Wainwright and I signed the door that serves as a visitors book. And then I was off, on the first leg of a journey that took over 30 hours, allowed me time to watch 5 films and brought me back to cold, wet England.
And in case you are wondering, Ngarie has written to assure me that the ink stains have come out. In return I have vowed to respond to her many kindnesses by 'paying it forward', and not, as is my custom, by spraying it forward.
So what now?
My journey down under has allowed me to tick off quite a few of the challenges I set myself. A few still remain though, including: see the Northern Lights; catch a big fish; and fire a machine gun.
I hope to have the resources to stay off the treadmill until the end of the summer, which gives me time to tackle some writing projects. The most important of these is my book, which has the working title: The Adventures of a Middle Aged Gapper or possibly: Around the World in 80 Spews.
Between now and May I must complete my creative writing degree by submitting 10,000 words from said book. I have agreed to submit the first 4,000 words to my university tutor by the end of April.
So, over the next few weeks I will be writing about my antipodean adventures for inclusion in the book whilst they are fresh in my mind and trawling through past blogs to write about my early adventures and how it all began. I will publish excerpts from my musings on Australia and NZ on here - bits that I simply did not have time to write about whilst I was away, but which are noted in my journals.
I also have approaching 3,000 photographs to download, edit and touch up. Naturally, I will publish some on here. And for those that know me I will put a few albums on Facebook in the same way I did when I returned from Africa. In the meantime I hope you like the shots of Pete and I plunging down the 21 foot waterfall near Rotorua. That's us at the front of the raft (I'm in the white helmet).
Live long and prosper.
But the most outstanding example of serendipity was our meeting with Sharon, a former work colleague who retired from the police in January.
I knew that Sharon was retiring as the local newspaper had done a big article about her, describing her outstanding career as a detective and how much she has done to promote the rights of female police officers. Sharon was awarded the Queen's Police Medal for her dedication to policing.
The article sparked a memory of talking to Sharon last July at the retirement function of another former colleague. It was a dim memory as I had intended to pop in for a quick pint and say goodbye at about 5 O'clock and was still there at eleven.
At the party Sharon confided to me her plans to retire and that she would be visiting Australia and New Zealand as soon as she did. We made a tentative agreement to meet up in NZ. I made a profound promise of 'See you in New Zealand, Sharon' , which I forgot by the time I reached the bar.
As our trip reached its final week, Pete and I drove across New Zealand from Te Anau to Dunedin. En route we opted to stop off at the small town of Gore for a coffee. Duly refreshed we mooched up and down the main street of the town and then popped into a bakers to buy a sandwich for the journey. The baker was about to close (yes, half day closing - it still happens in NZ) but she kindly pointed us towards a cafe that would oblige. It was the same one we had visited earlier so we crossed the road and went back in.
As we pondered the sandwich options there was a familiar voice behind us.
'What are you two buggers doing here?'
Serendipity had struck once more and we turned to see the smiling face of Sharon.
After meeting Sharon's mum and her cousins we agreed to meet Sharon for a meal in Christchurch on our final evening.
Serendipity also played a hand in determining where Pete and I stayed in Christchurch. The B and B I originally booked was unable to take us due to some building work, but they arranged for us to stay with Ngarie and Garry, a kind and generous couple who have left a lasting impression on me. Unfortunately, I also left a less than welcome impression with them.
We met Sharon and her lovely cousin Jane in a gastro pub near the city centre. I smugly showed off my new Maori tattoo, which had only been done hours earlier.
Shaun had done me proud. The tattoo was much bigger than I had imagined it would be and, as promised, it tells my story. It is truly a work of art that depicts not just my family but also the rings of Te Wheke, the octopus, to denote wisdom and the eye of Kiatiaki, my guardian.
The tattoo is on my upper arm, quite close to a tattoo of two lion footprints which to me denote my freedom and my affinity with Africa. When I showed Shaun the lion prints he said:
'Man, it looks like you've had the mini-paws.' He is such a wit that Shaun.
The evening with Sharon and Jane was a very pleasant and fitting end to our NZ journey. The Black Shag, one of several beers brewed at the pub, was very much to my taste and 'One for the road' soon became 'Two for the road'.
I awoke next morning to two horrors. No, not Sharon and Jane you dirty devil. Horror number one was I had a dreadful hangover due to more Black Shags than I'm used to. Horror number two was seeing the perfect impression of my beloved tattoo on my pillow case and bed sheet. A very expensive pillow case and bed sheet as it turned out and when I confessed my sin to Ngarie her face went as white as her Oprah quality organic cotton linen had once been.
To her great credit, Ngarie was very good about the whole thing and even fixed me up with a variety of hangover cures. I wasn't so good and promptly threw them back up. As you know by now, travel for me is all about voyaging to distant lands so I can puke over them.
Anyway, after my chat to God in one of Ngarie's many loos I collapsed on the ink-stained bed. This was somewhat unfortunate as I was supposed to be driving Pete to the airport as he had a connection to Auckland to make.
Acting above and beyond the call of duty the ever-patient Ngarie whisked Pete away and left me to die in peace.
I must have retained a small amount of the hangover cure as 2 hours later I emerged from my room shamefaced but revived.
Kiatiaki, my guardian, obviously knew what she was doing when she led me to Ngarie and Garry as the former kindly prepared my breakfast for the second time and uttered words of sympathy that I clearly didn't deserve.
We parted as friends. Ngarie posed for a photo with Wainwright and I signed the door that serves as a visitors book. And then I was off, on the first leg of a journey that took over 30 hours, allowed me time to watch 5 films and brought me back to cold, wet England.
And in case you are wondering, Ngarie has written to assure me that the ink stains have come out. In return I have vowed to respond to her many kindnesses by 'paying it forward', and not, as is my custom, by spraying it forward.
So what now?
My journey down under has allowed me to tick off quite a few of the challenges I set myself. A few still remain though, including: see the Northern Lights; catch a big fish; and fire a machine gun.
I hope to have the resources to stay off the treadmill until the end of the summer, which gives me time to tackle some writing projects. The most important of these is my book, which has the working title: The Adventures of a Middle Aged Gapper or possibly: Around the World in 80 Spews.
Between now and May I must complete my creative writing degree by submitting 10,000 words from said book. I have agreed to submit the first 4,000 words to my university tutor by the end of April.
So, over the next few weeks I will be writing about my antipodean adventures for inclusion in the book whilst they are fresh in my mind and trawling through past blogs to write about my early adventures and how it all began. I will publish excerpts from my musings on Australia and NZ on here - bits that I simply did not have time to write about whilst I was away, but which are noted in my journals.
I also have approaching 3,000 photographs to download, edit and touch up. Naturally, I will publish some on here. And for those that know me I will put a few albums on Facebook in the same way I did when I returned from Africa. In the meantime I hope you like the shots of Pete and I plunging down the 21 foot waterfall near Rotorua. That's us at the front of the raft (I'm in the white helmet).
Live long and prosper.
No comments:
Post a Comment