Kiwis and Fairy Bread

29 December 2023

We have entered the last week of our adventure. In one week we will be home again. WOW.

The landscape is always changing as we drive around this most beautiful of countries. One hour we will be in a wide valley with crops, vineyards, herds of cattle, sheep, even farm raised deer, plus acres of grass being watered to feed all of that livestock. One either side of the valleys will be hills and mountains of all shapes, sizes, colors and textures. Greens of every color from bright to drab, pale to deep. One hour there will tall trees, then dry low growing golden grasses. Next the hills will look like ugly green toads with round warts of a grass called tussock. Then the mountains will rise again, their deep fissures filled with gravel, like a giant’s slag heap. Roads will curve around rivers of roaring rapids or wide shallows with waters that are drying up. And then once in awhile, in the South Island, one will glimpse the snow capped peaks and perhaps a waterfall. Falls are thin and quiet, drizzling down the side of a mountain. Or very loud and wide, like the aptly named “Roaring Meg”. I say it again, this is an extraordinary country.

While Mike drives, I keep an eye on the directions called out by Google Maps. I call out the time and distance to the next direction (“one and a half kilometers, roundabout, first exit” or “13 kilometers to a right turn, 45 minutes to destination”), This way he can keep his sharp eyes on the road. I take notes in a small journal and inadequate photos on my phone. I refer to these notes later so I can write it all down for you, Dear Readers (and myself too!)

And so we drove into Queenstown, a city built on the steep hillsides at the base of The Remarkables mountain range at the edge of Lake Wakatipu. We parked at the edge of a public park and were immediately amazed by the site of orange parachutes criss crossing as they descended the mountain, one following another in the exact same route. They landed one at a time. They were coming from the top of the steep peak right behind us, on which ran a snazzy looking gondola.

We had time before checking into our holiday park so explored downtown a bit. The city was packed! It is the height of the holiday tourist season. Not only foreigners like ourselves, but Kiwis themselves also go on holiday between Christmas and New Years. Imagine if Memorial Day and The 4th of July happened at either end of a single week. Can you picture it? Then you’ll have an idea of what this city was like!

As we walked around we noticed a familiar site: a pink bus. It could only be our friends from both Akaroa and White Horse Hill. There was no one in the van, but a block or so down the road I was suddenly hugged from behind! It was our dear little friend Mawaba and all her family. They were going for a walk into town so we joined them. They treated us to some excellent gelato. Thank you!

While Mike and Mawaba’s brother Youseff talked photography, I played a game with Mawaba. Now anyone who grew up with me or has seen me work with kids will know that my never-fail game to play is What Time is it Mr Fox. The rules are simple: Mr Fox stands at one end of a space. The players yell out “What time is it Mr Fox?!” For which the response is a time. The players then take that number of steps and count out the time. When the players get really close to Mr Fox, he calls out “Twelve Midnight!” At which point the players run away and yell and tried not to get tagged.

Whenever I teach this game to a child we must play it a minimum of four times. It is always 4 times. It was the same with Mawaba. And then Zina, her mother, encouraged us to walk along the lake. We picked up shells and rocks. Chased some ducks (Mawaba declared herself their queen). There were lots of boats sailing in and out of dock including a real steam ship (see tomorrow’s post!) and little two person submarines shaped like sharks.

Before we knew it Mawaba had made up a game of her own. And we started to play “Shark Shark, what is the time?”. This is how it is played: One must Open your hands like a big shark’s mouth as you ask the question. And you run away at 11 o’clock. It was delightful! As is the whole family. We loved our afternoon together. Zina and family, if you are reading this, Happy New Year!! Please keep in touch.

Back at camp I caught up on writing while Mike explored the beautiful gardens on the edge of the lake. Paths wound around roses, dahlias and sculptures. I made some excellent nachos in the holiday camp kitchen and waited for dark which wasn’t until 10:30! Rain started. Miranda kept us dry and cozy as usual (I really like this van bed!). With little Mawaba’s voice in my head, I lay down. “Shark, Shark, what is the time? Eleven o’clock.” Time for bed.

(NOTE: As I write this it 2 days later, it is New Year’s Eve, we are in Milford Sound and have just rung in 2024! Happy New Year Everyone!!)