Auckland and Waiheke

 At Welly airport, early as is now my wont. Awoke before six without the alarm and was up and about to prepare leisurely for this three day jaunt to the steamy city of Auckland. I checked the weather and it is 97% humidity there like Sydney, and also like Sydney in other ways. Although I will very quickly embark on the ferry to visit Norma on the most liveable and luxurious island in the world according to Forbes Magazine. And I already knew that... it is a beautiful forty-five minute ferry ride and to arrive in the bay is to alight in a paradise. House prices have escalated and Norma, where I am staying, is locked into her million mansion but it's a mere cottage compared to some. 

Had modest coffee at the airport to start the trip...nothing like Memphis

Big crowds leaving Welly to Christchurch and Auckland for the weekend, although the Test Cricket match in Wellington has sold out and there are no vacancies in the hotels in Wellington. Aussie is leading the Black Caps by quite a margin it is sad to say, having won the toss and bowled the Kiwis out for only 183 runs. They are set to win yet again, but you can never tell, I will keep the line open.

This weekend has been planned for a long time, and I now discover it clashes with the Island Bay Festivsl where our Scottish Dance group is putting on a show. As well as many other things happening in this city, chock full of diversions and entertainment in this unseasonably hot summer which everyone is enjoying. We are suggested to arrive half and hour before departure, I was here one hour before, and at least I have time to relax and blog, siting watching the many Kiwis quietly and efficiently queue for their respective departures. They are enormous travellers, like the Aussies I suppose, but I dare to suggest even more are travelling per capita than over the ditch.

At Auckland University, at 11am, after quick bus ride from the airport and getting lost, I miraculously arrived on time, just!  Photo is of  Witi Ihimaera being interviewed by Mr. Diamond.

There were some good questions but unmemorable responses from Witi, except for his Maori heartbeat when he fell in love, once with a woman, the mother of his two daughters, and later with a man, which I suppose gave him a faster rate. After the talk I remained in the room to speak with a woman who had unsuccessfully asked him about the influence of Missionaries on his homosexuality rather than from the Maori race. It was a question which he managed to evade completely, but which I thought was so accurate I waited to talk with her. Her name was Giselle and she lives in Dunedin. She used to be a stripper with Carmen Rupe. Would have been a gorgeous big-busted lady in those days, and later she worked in San Francisco in a big Department store selling fragrance. Then made redundant with the financial fall-out of the 2001 Twin Towers disaster, she returned to native NZ and Dunedin. Her American Dad was Jewish and an artist who knew Picasso in Paris, and her Mum would have been a gorgeous Kiwi girl whom he met in NZ during the Second World War. We exchanged stories about meeting with Nureyev as she is also a balletomane. Actually she was was quite in the loop. I gave her my card, she returned the compliment with her phone number so hopefully one day I will catch up with her, as Dunedin is on my visiting list.

Where we had tea and Quinoa later, a lovely Korean cafe, called 'ThisandThat'

Black Caps on the rocks....

BrisVegas in gay Auckland, would be fabulous.

First stop on the trip to the wondrous Waiheke Island.

A Waiheke belle sitting opposite me with her MacBook Pro.

The impressive arrival at the Island, with million dollar baches of five bedrooms and three-car garages, overlooking the pristine waters.

Lovely Oneroa Beach five minutes below the village where Norma works, and close to her home on the cliff.

Well, say no more...

Here I am at Norma's house on the magic isle of Waiheke. It is out of Alice's fabulous Wonderland as it is surreal, even her Zebra striped guest suite. We stayed a while chatting on the beautiful Onerora Beach, then drove back to placate the animals, a friendly fluffy white dog called Monty, and a shy ginger tabby called Fergus, The other puss, Max has yet to appear, if ever!

Norma is as fashionable as ever, although she assures me no facelifts, but she looks after her body very expensively with the best of everything and designer clothes are her big indugence. As she frankly admits, shopping is her 'retail therapy'. My small gift of earrings may not be in this category, but they are different. 

I take a nap on the Zebra bed and a shower in the ensuite, as she has said she will pop out for some take-away pizza at her regular favourite place, her shout, she insists, after refusing my offer.