Last stop Sydney

Am sitting in my favourite Sydney cafe, City Extra, with superb views of the  Bridge and directly opposite the Manly Ferry,  anchored about ten metres in front of me. And Sydney is finally, after a week's solid downpour, showing its finery with the sun streaming down in a still somewhat cloudy sky.

An excellent flatwhite coffee arrives, and the morning is perfect. Have arranged to have lunch in Paddington with old friend Patsy and two of her friends, at one o'clock. Just time for a must-visit Circular Quay moment.Tonight at Woy Woy Bay with good friends and tomorrow return to Hobart, for the packing! Two days at Matraville of rain, visiting bro, no changes there!, but saw a great movie yesterday, after a delicious Thai lunch in Chinatown with old friend Hedimo, (in pic).

The movie was 'Satellite Boy', anIndigenous movie, beautifully filmed in the Kimberley, about two young boys trying to save their land, their 'country', from the multinational mining concerns pillaging the west of Australia. It was a film all Aussies should see, especially white ones! And it had a sort-of happy ending.

Sitting at Circular Quay in the sun is a great way to say 'see you later' to this great, buzzy city, filled with all nationalities claiming it theirs. People are lucky to live here, that is, if they like big cities, and ones getting even bigger every day.  

Now on Central Coast train to meet Malcolm for my last night at Woy Woy Bay.

Lunch was a cheapie at the Unicorn Hotel, Paddo, and Patsy's two guests were mid-West American, Charles, and his wife Eva, born in Deutschland. They are professional house sitters and she has just written  her first book, a kids' book called 'Lahni's Mission' about a Samoid dog. Also illustrated by her, as she is an artist. I arrived well early and found a table near the door, so when I saw them arrive they recognised me first, or actually at the same time. We had an instant rapport, and the conversation never flagged for a good ninety minutes. It was a most enjoyable lunch and we exchanged emails with a recognition of kindred travelling spirits. Eva even knew about ECKANKAR when I mentioned on parting, that my next Sydney visit is for the Seminar in January at Brighton Le Sands. They even invited me to stay if they had a suitable house-sitting going on. Quite an exceptional encounter.

 

Wellington Airport

Cannot believe my nine days are over and just five weeks, or is it four, before my new life begins in the Land of the Long White Cloud.

Spent the morning on Courtenay Place, eating a nice bespoke omelette and chatting with a Melbourne girl. Visited Westpac bank and found I need to make arrangements through Cwth, which, of couse, told me in Hobart I needed to organise it through Wellington. It's probably with both of them when push comes to shove.

A short text from Maria confirming she will email me details later. All on track there. Arrived two hours early, not necessary for Wellington airport, but time to check out the locals and have a final excellent coffee. Two locals in photo. Most Kiwis are travellers, a bit like Aussies I suppose. Also discovered the Kiwis are much more stringent about cabin luggage, seven kilos max, so my trusted trolley is now consigned to the hold. Good to note for future trips.

It has been a thoroughly successful time here and I am well prepared to do the necessary, whatever it entails, to leave Hobart, and Tassie, behind. 

Eureka!

It's Sunday night, the eve of my departure from Wellington. Today dawned fine and blue skies, the first of the visit, and a welcome change so I can stroll and look at the streets a little more easily. I take the bus all the way into the city, to the Train Station, an Art Deco style piece with no trains running because of the blackout I presume. They were the worst storms for fifty years inWellington.

 I stroll and look and finally decide it is time for a coffee, so a nice one appears out of the blue, it is actually a magazine shop, dedicated solely to magazines, hundreds of them. The young man at the coffee bar at the entrance is an excellent barrista, and I buy a Saturday's Dominion to read while I order a flat white. He is very charming and we chat and he tells me he isa country boy never left NZ. Also works at Rush, the new gay bar in Wigan St, he confesses somewhat self consciously. I ask if he knowsSean,my friend   from AIDS NZ , he does and likes him. So we we now are at ease and he says he has been 'out' for a while but doesn't do the scene, doesn't even like it. I sympathise with him and introduce myself, he is Sam, I'll come back another Sunday for another coffee.

It's nearly time for the ECK Sunday meeting so I take the bus, only to discover my Snapper card is empty! I think I've forgotten to 'Snap' off a few times. The driver generously gives me a free ride, understanding my predicament. Arriving early at Flashdog, I meet Harry and then Gwyneth, who is Cherel's friend I was destined to meet. We chat and Peter arrives and then we wait for Floss.

A good class later, Gwyneth gives me a lift to see my first flatshare which I had arranged yesterday at 3.30 with Maria at Oriental Bay. It had seemed too good to be true and I was glad to have Gwyneth with me.

 It is only five minutes from the city, along the bayside, spectacular buildings and obviously some of the best real estate inWellington. The house is perched high on the cliff and worse for wear, but interesting to say the least. Number 42, looks a mess downstairs but upstairs I recognise from the photos, but it looks not like I had expected, but at that rent, what could I expect? A dishevelled blonde d'une certaine age answers and then a bubbly Filipina called Maria comes and says Hullo Paul!  I am instantly won   over and in the next hour we chat and have a cup of tea and decide, that, yes, this is the place I've been looking for, although it's quite different from anything I had thought about. But it's strictly and totally Wellington, and a twenty minute walk to town, along a spectacular bayside route. 

 I can't quite believe I agree immediately to live with Maria (Pam) and her flattie Amy, but I do, and I think it's as perfect as I could wish for. Amy has a twenty-two year old gay son who lives in Wellington she wants me to meet, and Maria sings like a bird. We exchange songs and seal the deal. I will cancel my pre-booked BnB and move in the Sunday of the Seminar, July 28, for my new life in Wellington. 

It's just as my dreams predicted only better. I will become a real denizen of this fabulous city, as I may now not even need a car. What a miracle!

Maria drives me to the city and I get out for an Iraqi kebab, then walk along Cuba St  to my favourite cafe where I have my honey and ginger tea. Really I cannot believe my 'luck'! Home to tell Emma of my good news and tomorrow to Sydney.

Te Papa - Wellington at its best!

Wellington is fulfilling its prophecy as a windy and wet city, but in spite of this wholly inclement weather, I am enjoying its cold, as within is a stoic warmth, not unlike that of Hobart. Its people are resilient, tough, good sense of humour and very willing to help a stranger, all important traits to consider.

Today I intend to look at a potential living place in Kilbirnie, next to Newtown, and also at Kelburn, where Victoria University is situated. And tonight, a piece of real Kiwi Theatre, at the Downstage Theatre.

Just booked the local play, well reviewed, Sydney Bridge Upside Down, which seems a good choice. Have arrived at the fabulous Te Papa Museum on the waterfront, and am having a coffee before visiting the Andy Warhol Exhibition. This museum is one of the very great attractions of Wellington, user-friendly, gigantic, never can see enough, and great on a cold and wet winter's day. Am just so happy to be here, and it's free, except the AW exhibition of course, which, btw, was fantastic.

Home from an excellent beautifully acted play of pure Kiwi character and origin, devised from a much neglectd classic and given extra thrust through a creative adaptation and screenplay. Enormous talent deserving of a standing ovation, but played, because of the horrendous weather, to a half filled room.

Needed a bit of time adjustment but a worthy and even great, play.

I'll be visiting that theatre again!

Cafe Can Can on my Birthday

Another wonderful night's sleep in my cosy Wellie room, awaking to mist on the windows, another  cold wet day with snow forecast. Not as bad as in Christchurch which as well as recent earthquakes has flooding rains. A large cup of hot Nerada tea starts my day, and as I notice Emma leaving I ask if she is free tonight we are having a meal out, and she is welcome. She says she's busy, may be  going to the cinema with friends. Happy, I retire to my room to contemplate the day and the future of my sixty ninth year, sounds a lot but not really in the scheme of things.

Ping! my mobile goes with a message. Who could that be as few have my overseas number? It is Emma inviting me to a birthday lunch at a local French cafe called Can Can. Interesting, I was going to have lunch with Sean Kelly at the AIDS foundation to discuss volunteering, but that can wait. I text back saying Yes, where and when? I'll get picked up because it is raining, Emma signals, and I am happy to get ready and prepare the orange almond cake I had baked, with a glaze to finish it off.

Also to ring Sean and make a date for tomorrow.

 Twelve thirty arrives and Emma is punctually there for the appointment. We pop down two minutes in the car to this cute and tasty cafe at the end of a small arcade in downtown Newtown. It's filled to overflowing and the menu is small but choice, with French classics. We  order quiche with side salad, a 'raclette' for Emma and a salmon with leek for me. Emma's cheesy quiche arrives with mine, steaming hot and very tasty indeed. It is the full French experience with the staff all French and speaking with a charming very French accent. We both reply in a bit of French, no problems there. The clients are varied and all enjoying the food, some are oldWellington  citizens on a lunch out, regaling each other with stories from the past and the present, the internet has changed everything, especially in far-flung Wellington where half its population has travelled and the other half is living abroad, like Emma's three siblings, in London and Japan. 

We discuss life in general and Emma asks me about my francophilia and I have to tell her a long story, which may be related in blogs to come but not for today. Suffice to say, she listens politely and I wonder if it is too much, but then I want to hear her story, which is just as interesting, although she is a mere  forty summers old.

Glammaphones

It's June twentieth, my birthday over, thank God, and now for my sixty ninth year, but not mentioning any numbers! Had a lovely take away Malaysian meal at David and Viva's in Kilbirnie after a very uplifting singing of the HU.

Floss's sister Dee was there whom I had met in Melbourne thirty years ago, just passing through on way back to Brisbane. Discovered hat Viva is a supremely talented musician and singer, now retired but with a sparkling career behind her, and of course married to David the premier photographer in Wellington. They are quite a couple. Floss dropped me home a mere five minutes drive away, this is certainly the area I want to live in, close to the city, an interesting suburb and close to friends. The right house will appear when I am ready, and that is not till August 5.

A quiet at home morning with the cat as I am singing with the Glammaphones tonight at St Andrews Church on TheTerrace. Need some energy for that as I'm not sure what it will entail. more tomorrow.

But before that a meeting with Sean Kelly of the Wellington AIDS foundation to enquire about some volunteer work, no doubt there will be something to do there.

A late morning coffee and Almond croissant at the Can Can where I am writing this, busy and good 'grand creme' coffee. Must write a few postcards to commemorate my visit.

Have just returned from an excellent and informative meeting at the NZ AIDS Council where I met the director Sean and his excellent counsellor in chief Brenda. They were both super charming and offered  me a warming Earl Grey tea, it is indeed wet and windy in Wellington and everyone is apologising for it. A week of bad weather they say, it  must get better, but I am enjoying every minute if it. I still have two hours to spend, so go into a cafe bar down Willis street, which by the way, is the via Condotti of Wellington. The cafe, called Chillout, serves an excellent game pie, with salad and sauce, for just a few dollars, so I am satisfied I will have the energy to sing in the choir tonight.  

The talk with Sean, a native northern Englander, and Brenda, a native from Ottawa, was sympathetic and encouraging, they recognise I have quite a bit to contribute and look forward to my arrival in five weeks. It is indeed an excellent start to this part of my NZ episode. It is time to close so I am the last to leave, I say thanks, and I'll be back, for another pie another day.

Still more time to kill, I see doors unusually open of a Catholic church on a hill, St Mary's, and go in for half an hour's contemplation on my good luck. A beggar accosts me with a long story about his poor wife, so a couple of dollars poorer, I say thank you, and goodbye.

The weather is indeed what they told me about, and people are so rugged up and aware that all is as it should be, in Windy Wellington. I continue my trek to St Andrews on The Terrace, another ten minutes walk, but see a welcoming Hotel foyer of the Grand Chancellor ready to keep me warm and dry until choir calls at 6.30. As well there is an excellent pianist tinkling the keys and no one to listen to him but me, and a very appreciative me at that! This is exactly as I thought Wellington would be, a small Melbourne, circa sixties, but with the edge of the 21st century. And SO much to offer...

Shopping - The Movie

I have just from seeing an amazingly good Kiwi movie, made this year and set in a coastal village a bit north of Wellington. Well if 'Once were warriors' didn't stir you up than this one will. We were four in the  A1 cinema, and it was a smaller one, at the well restored Embassy Cinema at the top of Courtenay Place. The story of a mixed blood family trying to make its way as much as it could in the depressed economy of the east coast, the teenage boy Willie, and his chubby little brother, are the main protagonists, showing how family love wins out in the end. But the tests Willie goes through, and the domestic abuse in his family, are sometimes hard to look at. The alcohol, drugs and partiesin the   eighties when it is set are jarringly accurate, but the gypsy caravan and its tight knit family certainly come off the worse. It is a film which deserves to win international prizes, with exceptional acting in all roles.

 So now on to my FrenchConversation meeting at the The Establishment cafe. Emma will be there later, but I go early to look at the place. It is a Guinness style pub with the main tables reserved for the French crowd.  I lose courage at facing ten new people all drinking and laughing, so I take the easy way and decide to have a Turkish sandwich and go home. Again on Courtenay Place with the locals walking by, the rain has stopped but snow is predicted for tomorrow, my  birthday. What a lovely gift!

Courtenay Place

My first venture into the city of Wellington, and I am greeted with typical Wellington welcome, ie, I am caught in a downpour and am offered a lift into town by a local, called Peter.

It looked quite fine this morning, although steely grey skies met me as I opened my holland blinds in my north facing bedroom. It  was already eight o'clock and I had had at least eight hours sleep. I  heard a tiny miauw at my door and let in my NBF, Pippy. She snuggled up to me in bed and I managed to take a few photos of her. I patted her and as predicted by Emma, she dribbled all over me ...such is life with a drooling cat! It was just too nice in bed to get out so I dreamed on for an hour and didn't emerge till nine-thirty by which time Emma was up and ready to go to her yoga class, full of energy, a good start to the day. I told her I'd cook a meal some time soon but not sure when as my schedule was fast filling up. 

'No worries, it's leftovers tonight anyway', she smiled and I felt quite at home. I decided then to bake my famous whole orange almond cake for Wednesday when I am going out for my birthday, she may even come with us, who knows? So after some muesli and banana and a strong brewed coffee I picked up my umbrella to leave, thinking I would walk all the way to the harbour and look at the sights.

 Well soon into my walk the heavens opened and the rain poured down so I took refuge in a sheltered driveway opposite. Waiting there, looking at the torrents sheeting down, a small rather battered van appeared next to me waiting to drive out into the rain. I noticed its number plate, BONVIN, good wine, and wondered about the driver, a wizened up little guy about my age behind the driver's wheel. I looked at him directly and he wound down the passenger window and we spoke. 'Pretty wet ay?' HI rather stupidly ventured, and he smiled and said, 'Yeah, are you going into town?', offering me my first free ride in Wellington, more than I had had in three years in Hobart!

Hs name was Peter and yes, he was a wine importer, originally from Dunedin, but now living in Newtown, Wellington. We chatted on and I told him I was moving to this wonderful city, and he smiled, telling me how he liked Sydney and Melbourne too, and he'd been recently to a  wine exhibition in Melbourne and went to the Dali show at the NGV. Of course I had to repay his kindness with my Dali story, which he lapped up like a greedy cat. After all, I had met and had tea with the great artist and his wife Gala, when I lived as his neighbour in Cadaques. We introduced ourselves and I said I was  sure we would meet up again sometime, as I intended to live in Newtown when I found  a place, or had I already??

He dropped me just where I wanted to go, Courtenay Place, the epicentre of Wellington, and where I had fond memories of my first visit in Cafe Mr Bun. I went in, ordered a coffee and poached eggs, and found a perfect seat in the comfy leather armchairs to watch Wellington unfold outside the large widows overlooking the wet plaza, a perfect cross-section really, of Wellington street life. I couldn't help but make the comparison with Hobart. Not a wheelchair or limp in sight, a healthy and happy bunch of Kiwis, of many nationalities and so used to this windy wet weather in their capital city. I think I'll get used to it too. 

This afternoon I will do the classic wet day thing, go to a movie at the Embassy, the original and classic cinema which is showing a New Zealand movie I am unlikely to see anywhere else.

The Embassy is truly a relic from the past. A tiny Irish lassie tells me she used to live in North Hobart, she's escaped too! But really, even on the wettest Monday in Wellington's history, there is still more life  there than Hobart in Collins St on a Saturday night. I decide to forego the Maori movie about a poor shoplifting Maori boy and take a  walk on the wildside myself, so Cuba Street, here I come.

Part of the street is made into a mall, and the upper end is where the Comfort Hotel is where we have the Seminar in five weeks time. I take a few shots and discover an Opportunity shop next to the hotel. Memories of my last visit and my purchase of the preloved 1950s white dinner jacket linger, so I go in and buy a cool brown soft Derby, much better than my tired navy blue beanie, so into the bin with it!

Feeling the fatigue of a day on the road, I opt for a ginger and honey tea at 178 Cuba, seems like a uni student hangout as the Faculty of Architecture is just down the road. I realise I have walked nearly through all of Wellington, except of course, the fabulous waterfront which I will save for a sunny day. It will be home for another quiet night with Emma and Pippy, no Tango for me tonight!

Hall Street Newtown

One night and one day later. Met at W airport by my new hostess Emma. Promptly  and efficiently I was picked up and taken to a lovely brick home in inner city Wellington. She is a charming kiwi, originally from Christchurch, country stock and very well travelled, having lived at length in China and Japan, speaks fluent French. My room is delightful, faces North and bed is large and comfy. My nine nights here should be fine. She is also an excellent cook and has just baked a lovely banana cake which she shared with her other lodger,Gemma, from Canberra, and me.

 I pop out for a quick meal at an Indian restaurant in the area, there are many, and have a Chicken Tandoori, quite Ok but not cheap.

The area has many restaurants so eating won't be a problem, and I may even cook once while I am here as the kitchen is great. I go to bed early and have a good ten hours sleep which I need.

Awake on Sunday at nine thirty and read a text from Viva....ECK meeting today at noon and another at one thirty, so I am already in action in Wellington.

The day went well and met Floss and David and Viva in Flashdog studios which houses the ECK centre here. The plans for the Seminar are well under way, and I rashly offer my services to sing at the Seminar..I have long thought about doing something at a Seminar so I may as well start now.

I make some plans for the rest of the week. The Eckists have already booked me for a  birthday dinner  on Wednesday night. And then there is the Tango fest which is on for a week, I'll have to take part in that  at least  one evening or daytime class. It is an enormously big event here and attracts people from all over Australia. My week is already gone as there is also one evening doing Scottish Country Dance, as there are twelve venues in and around Wellington! 

My life in Wellington could be just as busy, if not more, than in Hobart. Tomorrow to the city and check out some places, perhaps make phone calls to prospective people to share with. Hope the weather improves but so be it, if that's how it is.

Kiwi reconnaissance

June 15, 2013.

In air, fifty minutes from Wellington, my destination I have waited over seven years to reach.

Leaving Hobart this morning was done like clockwork. Awake at 4am, no alarm, all things prepared from last night, scheduled departure time 4.45 with Anthony warming up his car at twenty to. It was dark and wet, slippery roads so I didn't want to rush. arrived at Hobart Airport at twenty past five, shook hands with Anthony who said he wanted to be in my back pocket.Through security in a flash and time for a last airport coffee. Flight took off a minute early and arrived in Melbourne on time. Check in perfect, told it was a long walk to Gate 18 B, so I began another security search and customs check. The customs officer, a charming young woman, complimented me on my passport photo. i knew all was in order, I had even been given leg room in exit number 18 c.

I chose to see the movie Argo, the award winning thriller about  the Iran hostages. It made me nervous about going through customs in Wellington with my raw almonds I bought yesterday, but heck, I'll try it anyway.  The kiwis I see in the cabin are many and varied, but the overall impression is very favourable, I think it's going to be even better than I had thought. Breakfast is served and I unwisely have a third coffee which doesn't sit well in my stomach, a bit too much acid. Must rectify that.

I ask for a glass of water which is immediately delivered, with a smile. I turn on the flight details on the screen, ETA 2.35 local time, a three hour flight and I can't wait to touch down in Wellington. my kind AirBnB host, Emma, emailed last  night saying she will pick me up at airport in her Silver Toyota. i hope my Travel Sim works so I can text her when we arrive. What a great start to this much anticipated trip,which  will set the stage for the next chapter in my life, a chapter that I've waited seven long years to open. I take photo. I look pretty tired.