A load of bull

Living in Wellington, it is easy to forget that this is a predominantly agricultural country in which the dairy and meat industries are the prime earners of export dollars. Easy to forget that there are no EU subsidies for New Zealand. And that its status as a “first world” nation, indeed its existence as a nation, relies on sheep and on cows. But we get occasional reminders. Today the Dominion Post business section had a large feature on bulls. Several pages on artificial insemination and the selection of sires. Including, I kid you not, an advertisement which appeared to show (it was photo-shopped – unless it was a very big syringe indeed) a hypodermic needle penetrating a bulls scrotum. You don’t get that kind of thing in the local paper back home. (And for anyone suffering under the fond illusion that this is how those gold plated sperm are extracted – let me assure you – the actual process is far less clinical.)
I was reminded of a diverting newspaper account of a local agricultural festival in a rural area, north of here. There were sheepdog trials and the like. Man-and-his-dog races. And a race – for humans, not their dogs – which involved completing the course with a bulls testicle (uncooked) in your teeth.

Wellington Houses

The one-off approach to building houses in NZ is easy to see as a quirky and endearing. But winter is setting in and I can see the fly in the ointment
Most houses are fairly flimsy affairs with little or no insulation of any kind. Estate agents seem obsessed with something called “flow” – as in “indoor-outdoor flow”, a phrase frequently seen on their blurbs. I think this means that the kitchen and living areas are open plan and that you can wander straight out into your barbecue area. Oh, and as it is perpetual summer let’s have a nice high ceiling. This would be fine if it was perpetual summer. However when the temperature drops to 5 deg C and there is a Southerly gale creating an impressive wind chill, you may realise you are living in a building that has the thermal retention of a paper bag. And no central heating.
Of course the priority for building regulations in this area has been earthquake resistance and I have no doubt that in an earthquake, having a thin walled timber framed house collapse on you is infinitely to be preferred to a load of breeze blocks and bricks. And most recently built houses are insulated.
In the picture you can see a typical Wellington single storey villa, in colonial style with one of those characteristic corrugated roofs. Nice Cabbage Trees in the garden and lots of electricity wires outside because it is on a bus route.
You can also see a picture of this house. Sorry, this well appointed shed with integral conservatory and great view. I am wearing a lot of clothes, indoors.

Kiwis and Tuis

The iconic NZ bird and informal mascot of the nation is of course the Kiwi. Such that the locals are more than happy to be called Kiwis rather than the long winded “New Zealander”. And “kiwi” often works much better as an adjective of course. However outside zoos, most human Kiwis are unlikely to ever see a kiwi, due to their shy, nocturnal habits and threatened status. Incidentally there are several breeds of kiwi – varying in size between a hen and a turkey! When the Maoris landed and found the place full of not only kiwis but the even larger flightless moas, it must have been like Christmas dinner every day for a couple of centuries. If the moas are anything like most local birds they would have had no fear of danger and would have carried on browsing until surprised by a spear.
But the nomination for second place in the most popular bird stakes must be the Tui.
Tuis are like starlings in drag. They are just slightly larger than a starling, with a similar profile, and with dark, shiny iridescent feathers. Around their necks is a tasteful wispy white collar and under their chins, what looks like a rather fluffy white bow tie.
They feed mainly on nectar and fruit, depending on the season and are a common sight in the suburbs and parks of lovely green Wellington. The Tui has a long proboscis like tongue which enables it to probe down and access the rich feed of nectar that these flowers provide. There is a well known breed of NZ beer named after them, which tends to increase their "brand recognition".
But it is in the vocal department that the tui excels. It’s not so much a song, as a distinctive riff, comprising an extensive range of squeaks, trills, creaks, caws, quacks, hoots, “ow”s and any other sound they can imitate and hence add to their repertoire.
And if there happens to be an alpha tui sitting on the tree outside your door, as there was the other day, you can see that it is not just a case of: take up a wide stance, open your beak and let rip. It is much more of a performance than that, with lots of mannered head movements. Like a very expressive tenor in the opera, intent on communicating the full range of emotions to the back row of the circle. I suspect the point of this is to display the bow tie to best effect, to potential mates and local rivals, as it bobbles about in a highly visible and slightly comical manner like a couple of animated pompoms.
In the picture is a tui we saw feeding on a wild rata flower in South Island. Sadly these beautiful flowers result from buds which are a most delectable food to the accursed possum. This was in one of only two areas where we saw them in bloom.

Dolphins in Lyall Bay

Lyall Bay is a popular socialising spot for the dog, and for humans there are the added attractions of watching the planes land/take off and of course the Maranui café.
This morning at nine there appeared at first to be a large swimming race, heading for the shore, escorted by a couple of kayakers – and with not much distance between the swimmers. The double take revealed the swimmers to be a huge pod of dolphins, spread out in a line. There must have been several dozen of them. (see white line in not very good photo)
Over the next hour or so we were treated to a spectacular display of coordinated energy. The pod, always spread out in a line, were, we assumed, pursuing a large shoal of fish back and fore across the bay. They would sweep towards the shore churning up white water, giving a fair imitation of a herd of galloping sea horses. Then, to change my metaphor, they would all do simultaneous handbrake turns. The pod would then set off in a different direction, with the leaders leaping out of the water, trying to get ahead of the shoal. Then a turn again as they stormed back inshore. Some lucky air travellers must have had a good view if they looked out of their plane window while coming into land.
And the display continued as we sat in the Maranui, gazing out to see and munching through their world class “muesli”. (For the record: dried fruit and nuts with a few toasted oats, accompanied by yoghurt, honey, a generous helping of stewed fruits of the forest, and slices of pineapple, banana and poached pear. About a 15 on a scale of 1 – 10.)

West face of the golf course

This is another nice walk from Kingston shops. If you can get someone to drop you at the bottom of the hill it is even nicer. The walk proper starts opposite the playing fields at the bottom of Farnham St. Pick up the City to Sea signs and head turn back to the right across the small park. The path takes you down some steps past some lovely tree ferns. You emerge onto a quiet side road. In front of you is the council tree and shrub nursery. Your route turns right and then left along the boundary of the nursery. This morning there was a kingfisher perched on a wire, along with a few starlings.
You emerge onto the edge of the Berhampore Golf Club and your path lies along its margin. It then turns away from the golf course, towards Brooklyn ridge, which is still high above you. The path here is a wide logging path with plenty of evidence of fairly recent tree felling. The city founders replaced the original forest with fast growing pines, which are now being gradually felled to allow native trees to return. Stay with the main path ahead and do not get seduced by the side paths. Although they look promising they are just logging dead ends. As you climb, the path turns right towards the ridge and becomes extremely steep. The surface is crumbling rock, as the top soil on these ridges is not much more than a smear. It is amazing that trees and large shrubs can grow so successfully. Look for the enclosure with half a dozen goats on the slope to your right. They are being used to clear honeysuckle and clematis which choke the shrubs. This morning there was a small, vocal flock of Rosellas (Australian parakeets) perching on an area of dead scrub. Boots and a stick are helpful to get you up this almost vertical incline. The track then enters the scrub and there is a final pull up to Quebec Street. There are fine views from the ridge, with the harbour in one direction and the Cook Strait in the other.

Gulls and herons

There are two types of gulls found in the Wellington region. The small Red-billed kind – compact, pristine and glamorous. You will see them anywhere near the sea in small groups. If there is a chance of scraps from humans there will be a local pecking order firmly established..
The other kind is the much larger – but fortunately more reticent - Black Backed Gull. Although only the adults are black backed and the juveniles are mud coloured. But juvenile or not they are good sized birds, very similar in appearance and call to the herring gulls found in UK. I was looking at a discarded wing feather the other day and it was a fair bit longer than my shoe.
From our vantage point on the Brooklyn ridge, the gulls daily routine can be observed. In the morning they head south, down the valley, heading for the landfill. Hundreds of them can be seen wheeling above it like snow flakes. And in the evening a ragged and well-fed procession flaps back towards the city centre. Where, I guess, they spend their nights roosting on man-made cliff tops. Worth considering for anyone thinking of buying an apartment in the centre.
But they don’t spend all their day at the dump. If you go to Owhiro Bay in the middle of the day you will see where they all hang out when they have gorged on the food that human Wellingtonians throw away. There is a stream here which normally forms a lagoon at the top of the beach. A perfect spot to take on fresh water, rinse the smell of rubbish off your plumage and then retire to sit on a rock, digesting and socialising.
In the photo you can also see a much rarer bird – a reef heron. (Unless is it is a melanistic form of the common White Faced Heron?) I have seen one (the same one probably) here before. They have a peculiar way of feeding which we observed down in Golden Bay. It will crouch down in shallow water, imitating a Kiwi or more probably a lump of driftwood, until it sees some prey – and then a long neck suddenly flashes out from the huddled, un-heron blob, like the strike of a venomous snake.

Really clear skies

They really are clear skies. Late on Good Friday afternoon, doing a spot of yoga on the decking and admiring the blue above - when I spied a satellite, moving east to west, almost directly overhead. First time I had ever spotted one in the daylight. Could have been the space station possibly, which is apparently getting bigger and bigger. But even so, impressive visibility.

Makara

After a chilly Maunday Thursday with a decided threat of winter, Good Friday was a gem of a day. Clear skies, warm sunshine and silky breezes. And it is a proper Bank Holiday here with all but the corner shops closed.
By driving over the hills behind Wellington, through scrubby hills and paddocks, you arrive at the coast at Makara Beach. It is a relatively sheltered pebbly beach and has a small wetland and lagoon behind.
I chose to take the low road round the headland, a stony scramble between high tide and cliffs, rather than the cliff edge path.
As promised on the sign in the car park the pipits were also out and about. You can tell they are NZ natives as they are so fearless. And so were lots of (human) kiwis enjoying the shore and the sunshine. Lots of activities in evidence – kayaking, boating, rock fishing and paua (abalone) hunting.
In one area the sea had arranged smooth pebbles in a regular array like cobblestones. In another it had bulldozed up boulders and huge tree trunks maybe a two or three metres above the next highest pebble banked waterline – giving an idea of the raw power that the Tasman can muster when driven by a severe southerly gale.
It is on the cliffs here that Meridian are building a big wind farm (at last!) –and half a dozen of the turbines could be seen idling on the skyline.
Very busy in the bay by mid afternoon. I imagine the café probably ran out of hot cross buns and cake. And masses of sea anemones and other sea shore creatures visible at low tide. One little girl, peering from the rocks, very excited: “Holy Moly – it’s a real octopus!”. And I met a Brittany Spaniel (like a Welsh Springer with long legs) called Harry. Quite a charmer.

Wellington cafes

Cafés, cafés, cafés – there are cafés on every corner in Wellington, and quite a few half way down the street as well. How can so few citizens drink so much coffee? How can the cafés all generate enough business to stay in business? I am afraid I don’t have the answer to these and other questions of universal significance.
Wellingtonians do like their coffees – and their coffee breaks. This morning at about 11.30 we stopped for a cup in The Bach near Island Bay. The Unique Selling Point here is that they have sightings of killer whales 100 metres in front of their property (twice this year already). You also have the sounds and smell of the sea and views of the craggy coast and of South Island in the distance. And in the middle of the morning, on a weekday, it was busy. With lots of men of working age. Some of them possibly having a work related conversation – but others maybe indulging in the serious business of the morning coffee break. In the heart of the business district it would be the same picture. And of course they all do baked goods and sometimes meals as well. And they normally have magazines and the daily paper available.
I'm no judge of coffee. Nice and milky is my style. So have have to use other criteria when making recommendations.
Difficult to pick just one in the City – but maybe Pandoro’s near Te Papa on account of the French bakery and patisserie (stock up on their 5 grain sourdough while you are there). There is something very comforting about being able to peer into the actual bakery, beyond the counter. In Newtown the Recovery Rooms opposite the hospital is good – and has an adventurous menu. There is a little French one further up the road as well, with nice patisserie and bread. Both good for buying treats for hospital patients. (Even I can say that the coffee in the new Wishbone cafe in the hospital is best avoided. The Fuel coffee bar is better.)
And out of town – apart from the Bach with its tantalising possibility of Orca sightings – the Maranui in Lyall Bay wins the overall prize on the grounds of its fantastic breakfasts. The view is pretty good as well (the bay and the airport) and so is the building. Try the veggie breakfast - it lasts all day. A lifetime high I’d say. Or for something lighter, their two substantial rounds of grainy toast with avocados and tomatoes (a kiwi classic this).
And if you are a visitor to NZ you have to learn what to ask for. A "latte" will usually have quite a lot of foam. A “flat white” less. If you want skimmed milk you have to ask for “trim”. So I take a deep breath – I have to take a run at it - “A large, half-strength trim flat white please”.

Pick Your Own

A “Pick Your Own” day yesterday, bathed in warm autumn sunshine. Penray PYO just south of Otaki was the premier destination. They specialise in chillies along with other produce. Yelps and guffaws are heard from the picking lines as reckless harvesters try the strength of the various varieties. A great grandmother sits on the ground in her sari, guarding buckets of sparkling scarlet chillies, while her relatives do her bidding. We staggered back to the pay station, with about 4 kilos of Italian tomatoes as well as a bags of chillies, capsicums, apples, pears and a big bunch of parsley. The whole lot came to about £8.
Then we drove over the hill to the organic blueberry farm in the Upper Hutt. Worth a stop for the aerial view of the Kapiti coast and island in one direction and South Island in the other. A lot more of S. Island is visible from up there, than at sea level. I suspect you can see all the way to Cape Farewell.
The blueberry farm is on the tranquil banks of the Hutt river (although I'm sure the Hutt not always tranquil judging by the boulders in the river bed). They make world-class blueberry muffins in their café – definitely worth a detour if you in the Hutt at weekends. Some of the blueberry bushes had turned an intense crimson – one of the few signs of autumn. Unfortunately I had my camera set incorrectly and came home with a series of Monet like smudges.
The chillies are glistening red in bowls. The tomatoes are currently being rendered down into a vat of sauce. And the capsicums are crisp and crunchy which you chop them up. And the blueberries have a fresh taste and firm texture that you don’t find in supermarkets.

Wellington housing

If you were kidnapped from a British city, and dropped off on a street corner in Wellington, you would be immediately struck by the fact that the houses look different. Different to UK houses. And different from each other. With very few exceptions the houses in NZ are detached. The majority are single storey. And it is very much the norm for each house in the road to be unique. In hilly Wellington some of the houses would actually be either up, or down, a few dozen steps with mail boxes at street level.
And as you sat in the gutter, removing your blindfold, the building materials and methods of construction would also catch your eye. Many external walls are boarded. And many roofs are of “corrugated iron”. You know you are getting used to the place when you start to see a corrugated roof as an attractive vernacular feature. The folk round the corner re-roofed their house last week. First they nailed wooden battens to the shiny silver corrugated roof. Then they attached tiles - well actually they are plastic imitation tiles. All done in a couple of days. And being single storey, no need to put up scaffolding.
The two houses in the photo illustrate the extremities of the “every house unique” rule. These two are on the coast, near Island Bay. One seems to be a copy of an Irish “tower house” such as you find next to farm houses, in the South East. Next to it is a house which is glued to the cliff face. Access to the house is via a lift. There is no road access and no track. There is not even the trace of a track. Construction as an extreme sport.

Gangs of NZ

One of the interesting features of NZ life is that there are Gangs - rather well established gangs that have branches (chapters I believe is the technical term) all over the country. There is occasional inter gang violence and ongoing criminality by gang members. Sometimes they are involved in things like pawa (abalone) poaching rings. The two most famous gangs are “Black Power” and “The Mongrel Mob”. Picture well built guys with serious amounts of tattooing. But the Mafia they aint. (Mind you, pawa poaching is not to be taken lightly!)
There is a story on the front page today’s “Dominion Post” (the Wellington daily paper) about a Police Matron who is retiring after a long career, taking care of remand prisoners with health needs. So she was well known to all the regulars in Wellington courts. She was once caught in the crossfire, when Black Power gang members fired (with a shotgun) on a police van in which she was escorting a member of the Mongrel Mob. She sustained a bruised leg – and then received an Interflora delivery of flowers from Black Power, by means of an apology.