Kiss Me, Hardy!

Since my arrival in New Zealand, the city of Nelson has been on the periphery of my plans. In talking with both Kiwis and travellers, the general opinion of the place was positive, but no one ever seemed able to give me a specific reason to go there. Now that I've been there myself, I can see that it is difficult to describe Nelson in a few words. But I'll try anyway.

One irrefutable fact about Nelson is that it is one of the sunniest places in New Zealand. In a country known for being able to produce four seasons in one day, anywhere with consistently good weather is a rarity. I've heard that last year Nelson's sunny day count came second in the country to that of Whakatane, on the North Island, but Nelson has a reputation beyond what statistics can prove.

Describing the character of any city is a challenge, but this one is particularly tricky. It is the center of a large agricultural region, and so draws in a horde of working holidaymakers during harvests. Abel Tasman National Park is not far away, so the city also draws in its share of outdoors enthusiasts. But the city itself has a vibrant center with an alternative streak, more befitting an American college town than of the center of one of New Zealand's most productive agricultural areas. And yet Nelson does not have a major university, although it does have one of the two main campuses of the Nelson Marlborough Institute of Technology. More than anywhere else I've been in New Zealand, Nelson manages to balance elements of several city types without exclusively being any of them.

My visit was brief, but I did manage to see the geographical center of the country. Being previously aware that Nelson has a sizable Italian population, I also kept my eyes open for a decent pizza joint. What do you know, I found one.

Stefano's Margherita. Delicious and reasonably priced.

In one of Nelson's many parks.

Looking south from the center of New Zealand.

Looking west over the city.

The center.

 

Hitching Through the Hills

On a recent three-day weekend, I took the opportunity to visit Nelson, which is on the northern shore of the South Island. I had only ever heard good things about Nelson, so I was curious to see what it had to offer. Getting there was the first challenge, however. The bus network would follow a longer route and arrive after dark, while hitching on the less busy inland route was far from a guaranteed success. In the end, I decided to keep things interesting and hitch.

Being an employee of Arthur's Pass Café and Store, I get free rides on the Atomic shuttle that stops in the village if there is space available. So I took the bus to Stillwater and began to hitch along Highway 7. I've previously referred to Stillwater as "Backwater" - it's just too easy - but there was enough traffic that I got a ride within 15 minutes. It was only a dairy farmer heading to the next village after doing his grocery shopping in Greymouth, but it was a start.

A slow start, as it turned out. I waited outside the next village - Ngahere - for two hours. When I finally decided to start walking and get a change of scenery, an SUV pulled over almost instantly. The driver reached across and flung the door open, simultaneously talking on a mobile phone and chasing one of his small dogs into the back seat. As I sat and listened to him debate crayfish prices, the dog reclaimed his spot, this time on my lap. He eventually hung up his phone, and after a ride of about 30 minutes, I left the driver and the dogs behind in Ikamatua and began to walk again.

I marched past cow pastures and appreciated the unusually good weather for about 10 minutes before another car stopped. It was driven by Dave, a gold miner heading home to Reefton. He had just gotten out of a troubling situation, and was keen to give me all the details. I'm not keen to do the same, so I'll just say it involved the end of a long relationship and a brief stint in prison.

Once in Reefton, Dave left me at a spot that turned out to be on the wrong road. I managed to redirect myself - Reefton was the biggest town I'd seen all day, but it was easy enough - and starting walking out of town. My ride turned out to be a minivan driven by an Australian foster mother, accompanied by one of her children. She was full of information about the area, and indicated a spot where a landslide had covered an entire village. The ride was over all too soon, and they left me in Inangahua Junction.

I barely had time to start walking out of Inangahua Junction before a car pulled over. It had two mountain bikes on the back, two occupants, and a back seat packed with gear, but they made space. My new travel partners were two American guys, both from the Northeast and making their way up from Queenstown. They were going all the way in to Nelson, and although I was out of my depth when they brought up mountain biking, we all thoroughly enjoyed the scenery.

Every time I hitch, I am reminded how fun it is. I almost enjoyed getting to Nelson more than I did the city itself! But it does deserve its own post, so watch this space.

What lay ahead of me in Stillwater.

Also in Stillwater.

In Reefton.

If this place had its own phone book, I could probably rip it in half.

Rugby for Beginners

Recalling previous posts, such as this and this, it is apparent that I have not written about rugby in far too long!

Athletic seasons in the southern hemisphere obviously differ from those to which I'm accustomed because the seasons here are reversed. The World Cup that I so thoroughly enjoyed in Wellington brought an end to rugby for 2011, right as summer was beginning. Now that the leaves are starting to fall and the days are getting shorter (and I'm once again mixed up by the seasons changing at the opposite time), rugby season is in full swing.

Rugby season in New Zealand includes multiple consecutive competitions, and the first is the Super 15. Originally the Super 12, this competition includes teams from South Africa, New Zealand, and Australia. It essentially operates like any North American sports league, but the travel distances involved are staggering. I used to hate it when the Red Sox played on the West coast because it started three hours later...but when New Zealand teams play in South Africa, the game starts at 3 AM in New Zealand!

To further complicate the logistics, Christchurch's stadium was rendered unusable by last year's earthquakes. Their team played "home" games all over the world, and somehow still made the final. This year, however, they have a temporary new home in Christchurch, and my flatmate Austen and I decided to take advantage of the low ticket prices and the relative proximity to Arthur's Pass to take in a live game.

Rugby fans need not read the following: the team from Christchurch (and the Canterbury region as a whole) is called the Crusaders, and they're in red. The opposition is the Stormers, who represent Cape Town, and they're in blue.

Before the Crusaders appeared.

The opposite stand had flamethrowers mounted on it for key moments.

The Other Wild West

After a brief visit to Christchurch, I returned to Arthur's Pass for one night before continuing on to Hokitika for the Wild Foods Festival. As I've mentioned before, the West Coast is a particularly untamed part of New Zealand, both geographically and culturally. So there's hardly a better place for a festival that celebrates my kind of weirdness - the tastiest ways to consume the food provided by one's immediate surroundings.

Hokitika is not a large town, so its accommodation is stretched to the limit by this festival. I ended up camping in one of several specially designated sites for festival guests. As at New Year's in Queenstown, the camp site was a rugby field. Wild Foods has earned a reputation as a weekend of partying and costumes, which has unfortunately shrunk the importance of the food itself. But the overall atmosphere was friendly, and the food was still the highlight.

As I travel, I keep a mental list of unique foods that I've eaten - whale and puffin in Iceland, rabbit in Morocco, reindeer in Alaska, etc. I added some new ones to that list while at the Wild Foods Festival, including crocodile and kangaroo, which were both tasty. At the end, my main regret was that the festival only lasts one day.

The driftwood sign on Hokitika beach.

Crocodile on the left, kangaroo on the right, human in the middle.

Live huhu grubs, straight from the tree.

Raw mountain oysters.

Rebuilding, Respectfully

You may have heard of Christchurch, New Zealand for a variety of reasons, but since I've been in this country, one issue has predominated: the earthquakes of September 2010 and February 2011 that absolutely devastated New Zealand's second-largest city. Almost everywhere I've been in this country, I've met Kiwis who have been forced out of Christchurch in the past year. But despite being fairly close to the city, most of what I know about it I've heard from other people. I was recently given a brief holiday from work, and decided to get a closer look at the still struggling "Garden City."

The February 2011 earthquake was the weaker on the Richter scale, but was also the more devastating because of where and when it struck: downtown at lunchtime. In terms of the human cost, optimists mention that it being lunchtime meant fewer people were in the buildings that collapsed - it's a thin silver lining, but it's something. Structurally, the damage to central Christchurch has ensured a slow recovery, and plenty of former residents have given up and relocated.

But some people remain committed to rebuilding (among them my friend Marcus and his family, whom I must thank for putting me up while I was there), and my main interest in this visit was the Re:Start mall. Some of the city centre's retailers have reconstituted their shops in shipping containers. The last time I saw these rectangular metal boxes used in construction was in Nome, Alaska, where they represent the absolute nadir of housing possibilities. Given that experience, I expected to see the Re:Start mall as a symbol of the city's collapse.

But I was impressed. The shops have done a nice job of using the space available and making metal boxes look attractive. I'm a bit of an urban planning nerd, and I was fascinated by the new dynamics at play in such unique circumstances. Although much of downtown remains inaccessible, this small portion of it indicates the commitment that some people feel to this city, at least from my outsider's perspective. At the same time, I had to remember that while I see a clever usage of newly available space, some locals see the place where their friends died. No reconstruction can heal wounds of that magnitude. I suppose this is the major challenge facing Christchurch at the moment - rebuilding, respectfully.   

Part of the fenced-off red zone (I was reaching over the fence).

The Re:Start mall.

Hobbies Up High

Frequent relocations have been a necessary evil in my life over the past six years. While the results have been worth it, packing up and moving is not always exciting. And it means forgoing certain hobbies: things like a guitar and a fishing rod, for instance, are often too awkward to pack.

Now, for the first time in my life, I'm working full-time with an indefinite contract. Without realizing it, I've begun to settle in to Arthur's Pass. It's happened in bits and pieces: I discovered the squash court and gym, then learned one of my coworkers was willing to lend me one of the five guitars in his house. And on a recent trip to Christchurch, I found a cheap fishing rod.

A few days ago, I managed to try out my new fishing set-up at Lake Pearson, just down the road from Arthur's Pass. While I didn't catch anything, it was a useful research trip - i.e., I learned exactly how cheap my new rod is, and what I need to do to make it work for me (that's how hobbies work, isn't it?). And I was able to take in yet another gorgeous piece of New Zealand's scenery. Some examples are below.

On a side note, I've also begun taking an online travel writing course. I publish my assignments on a blog, which I've decided to keep separate from this one. It seemed better to keep a clear distinction between course work and personal updates, as some of the assignments require me to practice writing techniques that I wouldn't otherwise use. Bearing that in mind, anybody is welcome to check out my other blog at americanuck2.matadoru.com. Any comments or advice you wish to offer would be appreciated (as they are here).

Weekends in Las Greygas

Arthur's Pass attracts visitors primarily for its scenery, hiking, and wildlife (read: the kea). With a population of less than 50, one might expect that those of us who live here would have trouble filling our spare time. That has not proven to be the case, at least for me: the Bealey River has more than one swimming hole, all at a temperature just warmer than freezing; for some reason, there is a public squash court; and I've been able to indulge a number of my curiosities, including experimenting with new baking recipes and taking an online course to improve my travel writing skills.

But there are obviously numerous services that this place cannot provide, a supermarket first among them. So I've been taking advantage of our free seats on the bus service that comes by every day to go to Greymouth. Greymouth is the largest town on the West Coast, but that isn't saying much in one of the wildest districts of New Zealand. With its history of mining, fishing, and forestry, it is now facing many of the same challenges as other blue-collar towns and cities across the Western world. Put more simply, it's the kind of place that causes people to roll their eyes and groan when its name comes up in conversation.

But coming from a settlement that doesn't even qualify as a village, Greymouth might as well be Las Vegas. It has a supermarket, a department store, and a cinema (!), among many other things that Arthur's Pass doesn't have. Although I like to think its name is highly appropriate - there's plenty of rain and concrete - it's hard to stay bored when I have a week's worth of purchases to make. And it happens to be right on the ocean (in this case, the Tasman Sea), something that, in my opinion, should always drive real estate values up.

I don't think I've ever seen a more typical Kiwi house.

I guess they couldn't agree on how to spell it. So they used both.

The Tasman Sea.

The Grey River on an atypical sunny day.