Aussie trip

I am at Wellington airport and it is like the apocalypse has happened with no survivors. Reason, I am two hours early, and there are very few international flights from here. Ooh well, sit and drink coffee and prepare for six hectic days in Sin City, or that's what it used to be called when I lived there, many years ago. I wonder if the moniker still fits? Think it does funnily, but perhaps no longer for a near seventy year old LoL!

This is the new international departure lounge at Wellington. At least it is truly an international lounge, which dear old capital Hobart had problems giving up on. However Australia is the only destination it seems, as all other flights go out of Auckland which is a much grander airport. Of course it makes for super simple departures which I will remember next time, and as it is only twelve noon now in Sydney, I can permit myself an airport espresso.

It is now five months that I have resided in this amazing antipodean country, separated from the rest of the world, and Australia, by wild ocean currents and vicious gale force winds, both of which I have  experienced living in its vibrant capital, Wellington. The orderly nature of the Kiwi is manifested here in this newly designed somewhat futuristic lounge, where the vast majority of people are Kiwis, which you can tell from their demeanour. No brash Australian exterior, or self effacing 'I'm not here' of the Taswegian, but a sort of complacency, but hard-won, of a people used to conquering adversity, but not revelling in its conquest. A nation of trampers, a self-sufficient race which must have invented the back-pack, a hybrid race but proud to be New Zealanders, as against the Aussies in particular, who are their favourite nemesis. Not that I have experienced anything more than good hearted anti-Aussie banter, as nearly all Kiwis can count some of their family in Australia. Take for example the present Oz Prime Minister Tony Abbott, who long ago proudly married a beautiful, if somewhat traditional, Kiwi beauty. 

There is indeed a Kiwi look, not an inbred look, but certainly one that comes from a Scottish heritage, now blended with the Maori islander caste, in many cases. The proud Maori race is in stark contrast to the subjugated Australian Aborigine, who is still struggling for recognition in his own land. Although the Maori did lose a lot of land in the land wars, they proudly kept their culture and traditions which are evident in every part of the these ever-shaky isles.

And it is exactly this, I believe, which sets apart the Kiwi so much from his Aussie counterpart, the fact that this extremely youthful country is founded on a fault-line, as much, if not more, threatened  as San Francisco, whose inhabitants seem to live blissfully ignorant of the fact that their own city went down in disastrous circumstances less than a hundred years ago. Here, earthquakes are a constant threat, and loom in the recent memory of most inhabitants, especially those in the South Island who lost their houses and livelihood, and some their lives, in the terrible earthquake of 2010. It will be a long time before the once-beautiful Christchurch resumes its full capacity as New Zealand's number three city.

Sitting beside me is an example of what I am describing...a young Kiwi couple, obviously some Scottish heritage, or perhaps blended with Scandinavian, both studiously ready for their Aussie adventure, she reading her book honestly borrowed from the city library, and he diligently studying the latest software on his mini laptop computer while unselfconsciously sporting a patriotic Kiwi footy vest. They have next to them the ubiquitous bottle of spring water, bought unfortunately, like most, from the supermarket. He has a backpack, she, just a bag, both in extremely sensible shoes and ready for the awful onslaught that Sydney has to offer the naive Kiwi. 

For they are exactly that, even more naive than we Aussies, and I say this from broad experience. It is one of the reasons that New Zealanders have endeared themselves to me, with their simplicity, their honesty, their goodwill and amazing courage and adventure. Just look at Sir Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy - three immense films which could never have been made anywhere but New Zealand, by an intrepid director who could only have been born and nurtured with the Kiwi sense of 'you can do it, but do it well, my boy'. The result is a burgeoning film industry, the envy of the world, with skilled workers who work for a pittance in comparison with the rest of the movie-making world. There are three more 'Avatar' movies to be made here in the near future. It is indeed a nation which punches far above its weight in many fields, and always with great laconic humour and no expectation of great recognition. Not that it hasn't been discovered by many an American or Pom who can't wait to get their hands on this still verdant paradise, in Middle Earth, at the extreme southern end of the world.

I still have a lot to learn while in residence here, and this is going to be one hell of a year!