Interislanding

THE COOK STRAIT, NEW ZEALAND - 30th January 2010

With my blog uncharacteristically up to date as I write this, and with the barrage of activities that filled pretty much all my time in New Zealand up to a few days ago subsiding away (to be replaced by days of endless driving with little more excitment than the occasional stretch of dual carriageway), I felt it would be a good time to pen some thoughts to wrap up the loose ends of this stage of my journey.

I say "pen" in its most literal sense - with my mobile out of action I've been forced to shelve my previous strategy of typing blodys as emails to myself whenever I found myself sitting around doing nothing. Instead, I´ve found myself taking a trip up memory lane with a good old fashioned Bic biro pen and a diary journal book that I´d picked up in Mangalore but never really got the best out of. Sitting atop of the interislander ferry´s observation deck, basking in the warm summer sunshine, I have to say it´s a refreshing change from dimly lit air conditioned corner rooms - not to mention the intrinsic satisfaction and emotional appear derived from the handwritten word (hence why I continue to send, and enjoy receiving postcards, despite overhearing wisearses in shops joking "Postcards?! Seriously, who still sends these?).

The interislander I am sitting on has got to making one of the world's truly great ferry journies. The Picton approach section (coming towards the South Island) in particular is a perfect introduction to the majestic scenery South Island has in store for its visitors - winding your way through the seemingly endless bays and inlets of the Marlborough Sounds, the observation decks house as many happy snappers with SLR cameras as your average Japanese tour bus rocking up outside Christ Church (of the Oxford, rather than Kiwi, variety). Of course, my disdain for the latter as a Pembrokian in no way stopped me spearheading the former - photos will appear in due course.

What is telling, of course, is that here on the return journey snaps are minimal. Once you've gone all the way around South Island, you get progressively more desensitised to scenic beauty; Milford Sound won´t be topped by anything, so once you´ve seen it it´s pretty hard to be impressed again!

The other factor to account for though - this particular ferry has very few tourists among its sellout passenger group. Instead, it´s loaded with black t-shirt wearing long haired rock fans gathering en masse to see rock legends AC-DC tear up Wellington for the second night tonight. It is literally all anyone can talk about; it´s hard to imagine what a big deal it is over here when a big band comes over to do a stadium gig, with a population of barely 4.5 million of which a third is in the Auckland/wider north-east region, this sort of thing happens rarely. So every radio station has been talking about it non-stop for the last week (trust me, I´ve been listening to a LOT of radio), and the AC-DC fans on board are looked at with some sort of reverence. When you´re used to Wembley Stadium hosting a succession of sellout gigs all summer, leave alone the O2, Twickenham, and indeed any number of venues across England, it´s pretty easy to be unimpressed. But I guess it just hammers home how, with the UK´s population density, just how much culture we´ve managed to squeeze into a country as physically small as ours.

Once back in Wellington, it'll be into another rented car and straight up north to as far as I can manage tonight. The Daihatsu from the South Island won't be missed, but all said and done it did somewhat grow on me after the rollocking review it got on day one. It's lack of power was crap in infinitum, but the handling was actually not too bad once you got a feel for its transmission. In effect, it had a range of about 750 revs where it performed well - anything higher or lower and it was a hunk of junk - but as a driver it was quite rewarding to have to drive a car, rather than letting it drive you (like the cruise controlled automatic I had back on the Great Ocean Road). But, I´d still take my Polo any day of the week. Or indeed my North Island Hyundai...

And, finally, while I´m on the topic of driving, a quick note about Kiwi drivers. Joe and Simon had warned me back in Whakatane that "they're the nicest people in the world, but Kiwis can´t drive to save their lives". I can happily corroborate this story, with particular reference to one area. Corners. Going down straights roads for mile after mile, they´re fine. But the moment a corner appears, its slam on the brakes, lose all your momentum, and spend the next 5 minutes accelerating again. On South Island, with its twisting hill roads, and in a car whose strong point is anything but power, momentum is crucial - not least for getting decent fuel consumption. But it is inevitable that the car in front of you that's happily bombing it down the straight road well over the speed limit will end up crawling round a slight right hand bend at 40km/h, and it one foul swoop ruin 2 kilometres of gently built up, fuel-burn minimising momentum - and it is pretty damn annoying.

But, aside from that, the Kiwis are great guys - with my mate in Kaikora taking the biscuit.

The best (small) city on Earth?

NEW PLYMOUTH, TARANAKI - 19th January 2010

The United Nations certainly think so. In 2008's "International Awards for Liveable Communities", New Plymouth - situated at the foot of Mount Taranaki on the northern coast of a peninsula created purely by its volcanic activity - scored the gold medal for cities with a population of up to 75,000, while also (unsurprisingly) scooping a separate magazine award as "New Zealand's best city".

I, for one, am certainly not going to dispute the results. The moment you set foot in the town you feel calm, relaxed, nature and human society in a harmonic balance with one another. Looking in one direction, you can watch the waves of the Pacific Ocean come crashing into rocks lining the city's award-winning Coastal Walkway; turn 180 degrees and you're facing the towering presence of snow-capped Taranaki overlooking the relatively modern cityscape (as in the photo I've stolen from Google Images on the right).

Located where it is, New Plymouth is off the bog-standard tourist trail - backpackers en route to Wellington and the South Island tend to head through the middle of North Island via Taupo and Tongarira National Park. However, with the freedom of movement offered by my own wheels, I was able to schedule a visit to see Dale, my second cousin, and finally meet her husband and daughter. After failing to do so for all of the 2 and a half years they lived in Swansea, I found it quite amusingly ironic that I was more than happy to make a 400km detour to see them in New Plymouth, but never once considered driving a couple of hours into Wales!

Lunch was fantastic. Dale's parents-in-law are in NZ for a few months, and between herself and her mother-in-law we had a proper Mangalore-style feast - green curry, chicken, pilau rice - all were savoured as the first proper Indian food I'd had in weeks.

Post lunch playtime with Rochelle (Dale's 3-year-old daughter) involved an imaginary but nevertheless rowdy tea party, before I headed into the town proper to check out the Coastal Walkway as well as Puke Ariki, the (again) award-winning museum-come-library-come-information centre. My hostel for the night is right next to Pukekura Park - a massive affair that combines a botanic garden with the most scenic cricket ground I've ever seen (right), with the coolest open air concert venue anywhere (the stage is in the middle of a lake!!!). Anyway, throughout the summer the park hosts the annual Festival of Lights, with the botanical walkways lit up in all sorts of colour as night falls, accompanied by different acts and performances every night. Tonight featured a model plane demonstration on the cricket ground's outfield, and included model jet engines making the most God almighty noise; and a live set from some band who did some surprisingly good covers of the likes of Elvis, MJ and The Verve (a google search suggests they're called "Tank Stanley and the Acid Collectives", and that they were gonna "blow your mind").

Dinnertime awaited though, and I was back at Dale's for another long missed dinner - classic Chinese takeaway. My stomach sleeps content tonight, before tomorrow's long drive to Wellington...