Time Travel

...Well that's the only way I can explain it, the fact that I blinked and started to think it was about time to write, blinked again and suddenly it's been nearly two months!!??  Sign of good times well spent I suppose....but I can't right now remember a single thing!

Short blog then don't know what all the fuss was about.

Please, as if I'd let you off that easily, I have to bore you far more than this first...

I suppose I should start with real life, just to prove we are having some, before I harp on about more trips etc.  I believe when we left you last Martin's job at Statistics House had been reshuffled by the earthquake causing his building to be reshuffled.  Sounds frustrating enough after a 3 week wait for a start date, but alas, it got worse as, the day he started replacement work he got a call saying they were ready for him and he should start Monday.  That was Friday evening.  The agent, who is clearly reputable and honest and as all folk with the word AGENT in their title tend to be, then suggested he just jack in this other job so he could take hers.  Thanks but no thanks to her translated as, "Great give me a call on Monday morning and let me know your thoughts."  Mmmm so needless to say Martin has not yet worked for Statistics House...however when he explained the situation to him they did express a desire for him to keep in touch, so who knows that could change- not though if Hays have anything to do with it!  In the mean time he's had a great time and met some great people (because apparently the office working week in this country is only 4 1/2 days long; Friday being half work and half hanging out with your mates and a few bottles.  Dress down and drink down Fridays!) working for Sharp's offices and a Property Managing Agent (there's that agent word again.  Needless to say Sharp was the preferred role and they wanted him to stay too!).  He's also landed the role of Henry VIII in a production of Anne Bolyn which he is rehearsing as we speak- sounds rather good too!  Obviously.

My day to day goings on are somewhat less glamorous.  Dressing down and drinking up is less possible/appropriate- all be it more necessary sometimes- in the wonderful world of childcare!  I'd been taken on by a group of 5 childcare centres called ChildSpace to do some supply work, with a view to potentially taking over from one of the centre deputy managers while they were on holiday, in the UK funnily enough.  I thought that was unlikely to happen though as our trip meant I couldn't cover the whole of their 6 week leave; however I obviously did OK on the days I worked prior in their other centres as I am now there and have been asked to come back when we're home...er....from home.  That would be great news, except it's just in time for the NZ equivalent of OFSTED.  Say no more.

I'm not going to lie, I was dreading going into a nursery-age setting...I'd only ever seen glimpses of it back home and those glimpses looked like everyone (staff and children) was bored and getting very cross about it.  There are things to love and hate about it and how it's done here but for the most part I'm enjoying it....this may have something to do with the fact I seem to have developed a habit of making a HUGE mess with the children, the name of learning, obviously, just before it's time for my break.  The lack of British red tape is taking some getting used to though and I'm sure everyone is sick of me asking for forms and proformas and whether we can and can't do things and if so when and for how long!  I've been with the whole range from infants to 5 and am currently with the 2-3 year olds and definitely think that's the place to be...despite the nappies.   That said having experienced a spate of streakers this week I'd say bring back the nappies any day!!

On that note I'll take you back to my happy place, holidays.  All in the name of research you understand!  They go in for Groupon and LivingSocial type bargain offer schemes a lot here and I've been fully taking advantage and using these deals as a means to see the place.  Our first little mini break (of this blog!) was a trip to the mountains to try a spot of skiing- after all you can take the couple out of Surrey.  We headed about 3/4 hours in and north to Mt Ruapehu; a place that, I thought, was far more famed for it's walking as it has one of the "Big Seven" treks, the Tongariro Crossing in its peaks.  I didn't actually know you could ski there at all....not that we really did particularly, Ha!  I was very impressed with how quickly out pre-teen ski-school experience was all flooding back to us....when it dawned on me that we were essentially "bombing it" down the flats of the learner lane.  Attempting to traverse the real (green) run was much hairier....what with all the kamikaze kids whooshing past us on all sides!  By the end of the day our confidence had really grown and I even attempted a jump!  To a fashion.  Well I skied up to it, freaked out and slowed down to such an extent that I banked on the top of it.  GNARLEY!  It was certainly worth a day out and in a beautiful location not far from the banks of Lake Taupo we will be back....in fact we're already planning to walk the crossing in Summer.  It's still weird that's December.  I think we'll definitely try skiing again and not just for a day or for the hot chocolate- or calve cramp.

We had to be a bit more dedicated with our next trip as we hot footed it aaaaalllll the way down to Stewart Island, the last piece of land before Antarctica.  That said it was far more balmy than you'd expect for the middle of winter- us Britts really do get a bum deal.

So we set off from a bar on Sunday night to the ferry terminal to catch our over night ferry down South.  "Hilariously" it only actually takes about 30min to get to the South Island from here, the other 3 hours of the journey are spent traversing the sounds, which is actually really beautiful to just watch, if you're not facing a 13 hour drive.  Luckily we had an early check in and a cabin (best £20 you could ever spend.  Ever.) so could sleep through it.  In theory.  In reality we'd had the latest bout of earthquakes hit over the weekend, as usual this time bigger than the last (you've never known good time management until you've attempted to shower or use the toilet during times of seismic activity.  True story.  Not fun.), that plus a couple of drinks made the movement of the boat and waves feel uncannily like more tremors.  So I swapped blissful cruising sleep for drunk panic.  Less than ideal...particularly when we had to drive through Seddon, the epicentre, about 45 minutes into our road trip.  One adrenaline crash power nap (that accidentally lasted 2 hours) and a few pit stops later we pulled into Bluff and found, literally, the only building with any lights on was a hotel that was about to close it's doors for the night.  Luckily it let us in before it did.  Except it also let everybody else out.  Seems Bluff isn't so much your Winter mini-break type destination.  Cue night two of terror based sleep deprivation; this time at the hands of the Alfred Hitchcock type decore, shadows and eerie middle of the night sound effects resonating through this seemingly abandoned hotel.  Dawn broke and with it came the realisation that we hadn't been dismembered and breakfast.  Thus our distaste for Bluff started to thaw.  We actually had a lovely morning exploring view points, the end of the world, I mean State Highway 1 and the ships graveyard before abandoning our car at the horror hotel and catching our ferry.

I had no idea how mammoth Stewart Island was, I literally thought it was a dot that had fallen off the South Island.  Turns out it has 700 km of coast line....but what gives it its dot like feel is that there are only 20 km of roads.  Pretty much the entire population (all 400 of them) is based around one bay and the rest is sprawling bush land and I'm sure an abundance of secret Fern Gully'esque wonder.  I am, there's a even a place there called Fern Gully so it stands to reason that there must be!  After the horror hotel debacle we decided to pre-book into Jo & Andy's B'n'B...which turned out to be a treasure trove of a place in which (literally) every spare (and not so spare) piece of wall space was covered in bookshelves.  Catalogued bookshelves.

As you know we'd journeyed allllll this way to see the Southern Lights, Aurora Australis, as I had it under good authority that this was THE year to see them and July August were THE months.  PERFECT.  But for all of the cloud.  All of it.  Cloud that arrived just after sun set on our first day and stayed until we were safely on the ferry out. A trip on which I read that actually the lights had been seen as far north as Christchurch- even Wellington recently.  Boy were my cheeks red.  Anyhew, though we did not see the sky dance we did see a plethora of other amazing things, including a real, live, WILD kiwi.  For those of you at home, no not the fruit, the bird, the national bird of NZ that a lot of you have surprised me by not knowing.  For those of you at other home, no it was not a weka (though we saw them too) it was definitely a kiwi.  Though, as we told more locals and saw the sympathetic glint sheen across their eyes we couldn't help but be reminded of the time when we were last here and two very excited tourists (gawd who'd be them?!) came bounding up to us eager to show us the all their amazing kiwi photos they'd taken....of a weka.  But to be fair that was in the middle of the day at a car park, our sighting (of a kiwi.  I swear.) was in the middle of the night(ish) in the bushes of a remote lane.  None the less we soon learnt not to tell too many people.  One thing there is no doubt that we saw were albatross.  Amazingly striking and intimidating birds that stalked us on a fishing trip that we took on our second day there.  Yes fishing.  We did quite a good job too, caught enough blue cod for dinner (and one terrifying red bucket mouth, NOT for dinner) when we got home and rather tasty it was too!  Seeing the island and surrounding by boat also gave us the chance to explore neighbouring Ulva Island and bird reserve as well as an abandoned whaling station back on the main island.

The trip to Stewart Island was topped off and summarised nicely by stopping to watch a seal frolicking in the channel on the way back to Bluff...before one of the crew told the captain that Carol had an appointment she needed to be back for.  Perks of living on a huge island with only 399 neighbours and all this amazing nature and wildlife on your doorstop I guess.  So we bid adieu to the seal and carried on our road trip.

That however is for another blog another time.  Not least because this is FAR too long (I did promise to bore you) but because we stopped off in Christchurch on our way home and I think that city and its people and their incredible spirit and courage deserve more than a passing mention.  As scary as these few months of wobbles have been, we Wellingtonians really know nothing about earthquakes.

In the mean time if after all that you still need tiding over, here's some snaps we've taken a long the way...like the other album this will get added to a LOT while we're here.  Road Tripping NZ