First guests, from Toulon

At last my BnB is happening, for better or for worse. It really is like a marriage and you just have to get used to sharing your space with strangers. My first two guests were from heaven, and gave me great optimism for the future. A young French couple, inveterate travellers, replied to my listing within one hour and booked me for one night and stayed three, they loved Wellington so much, and also my home I do believe. I gave them my usual hospitality and they were also very generous in accepting it. They accompanied me to my first Winter Solstice party at a WOSOSI friend's home which was perfectly delightful with lovely warm people gathered around a warm fire drinking mulled wine. The two young ones enjoyed the unusual company and it was a great start to their little stay. I hope to find more guests like them, but I don't think so as they were very special. They also keep a fantastic, up to date blog which no doubt featured my place in their last posting. I must have a look one day. I was even filmed and interviewed for another of their projects. I wonder where that will eventually appear?

The Tiger Room

The Flower Room..

The youngest person at the Winter Solstice 

Leaving Christchurch

I can't say I was unhappy to leave this desolate city - it is such a tragic sight and its recovery seems so far away. The insurance companies are slow, if not downright impossible, and many residents have been traumatised by the event and have no real help, they just 'get on with it', but it will be never like it was. I felt very sad for them and the sight of the luxury airport on my departure did little to alleviate it. But that's life and them's the breaks. However I was very glad to get back to wonderfulWellington 

Christchurch airport...

...a bit empty...

..like the bus exchange in the city!

The once magnificent cathedral...

..they are cleaning one building anyway.

Day 2 Container City

After a good sleep at my BnB at Hillmorton where I heard personal disaster stories last night of the earthquakes, there is obviously no-one who was not affected in one way or another, either financially, physically or mentally and spiritually, by these recent disasters. My host had a breakdown, lost his job, and it was through the resilience of his wife, a Thai theatre nurse and good at everything, that they survived. Their house was also damaged and it is propped up with girders; also they had the Insurance Company from Hell as I have heard them called. But they move on and do what it is necessary to survive. 

Eight o'clock comes, I shave, have a perfunctory instant coffee with awful white bread, and make a hasty exit after doing my emails to discover two more bookings at home! Wow! It's working, and I have discovered a couple of things for my own BnB, little pre-packaged oriental cakes to go with peppermint tea and a more personal key ring for the guests, but I am reassured that my bay window room is easily one of the best to be had, anywhere!

After a quick bus ride into town I am now in the the Container site where people have shown their resourcefulness in successfully bypassing enormous legal complexities and paperwork for which NZ is renowned, and that's not to mention inefficient bureaucrats, to get this service centre up and running. This was quite an achievement. They are not making much money anyway so their inflated prices are certainly understandable. 

Locals hungry...

Chic Containers..

Blue skies and sun shining...

...on my own '19th' table and soft ficelle.

A nice touch to remind me of my birthday today is the table marker for my order, the toasted ficelle eventually arriving a bit limp, but hey, who's to complain after what the've gone through.

My plans for the day are to see more of  the disaster zone and then slowly make my way to airport before the school kids get out, as yesterday it was bedlam.

What I do notice here, especially in contrast with Auckland and Wellington, is the absence of native presence, few Maori and seemingly no islanders, the cooler climate obviously having something to do with it! There are many Indians however, probable from Fiji. However the quintessential English element is everywhere, even with a River Avon, and a cafe, now defunct after the quake, overlooking its narrow banks. Picturesque nonetheless.

Listening to i-pod and reading his Kindle

The Caffeine Laboratory...

Well I have just finished the grand tour of quake city, and it leaves me gasping, with a sort of emptiness inside and wishing to leave. I stop for one more coffee on the Container site, this time from a barista who, covered with tattoos, does not reflect the art of his tattoist. He is a bit surly and serves mediocre warm coffee, possibly reflecting the timbre of the space in which he works. I do notice however he smiles and jokes with his friends so perhaps he just thinks I am a gawking tourist and he doesn't waste time on them. I am now off to the airport, the afternoon chill is setting in and I need to be heading home. More later about the quake and its effects.

The improvised transport Hub in Christchurch

The ruins of the Cathedral and the Millennium Chalice

Christchurch....what's left

Today my adventure is to the capital of Canterbury, the once regal and historic city of Christchurch. For those who don't know, this once beautiful cathedral city has been devastated by earthquakes, not once, but twice in the last four years, so I am prepared for the worst. The weather forecast has also been not too promising but on the free bus ride into the city I am greeted with a few watery rays of a forgiving sun. 

Alighting at Transport Central, a few sheds having been put together for the time being, I ask where to go. There is really nothing here, except work sites and empty carparks. There is a palpable lack of energy in the air, but one of resignation, as if it is always like this in Christchurch. They have also been assailed by torrential rainstorms in the past few months. Feeling like a coffee and something to eat, Ballantynes looks inviting, it is a restored department store with gourmet foods on the shelves. So I enter the warm atmosphere (it is about eight degrees celsius outside) and order my normal flat white coffee, see a piece of pizza with chicken and cranberries which appears interesting and I order it. After all I left Wellington this morning at seven a.m. in heavy rain, where I got drenched after parking ten minutes away from the terminal, and am still drying out. But all is well and the hot excellent coffee satisfies my senses.The pizza is OK too, but not real pizza crust. We are in the provinces I must remember. 

Before I forget, my early departure, it was still dark, resulted in the surreal visioning of a group of about twenty young school kids riding their bicycles through the tunnel connecting the air port. Lights flashing, voices shrill with youthful excitement, they were accompanied by their teachers in an experience which for them was a natural part of their education - the skill of night bike riding. What would theybe doing for the rest of the day I wondered? It was a vision I won't easily forget.

After this necessary stop I have another priority on my list and that is to find an optometrist as I have now a pair of glasses with only one ear-rest, the other having broken off this morning with no warning. However I suspect it is because of a super tightening by the  Newtown optometrist yesterday, who may have not been so happy at not charging me for the service, which optometrists normally do. Oh well, it's something to experience in this foresaken city, to get a repair job, so I ask the waitress if she knows of an somewhere I might go. But she doesn't, except way out in the 'burbs. The infrastructure of the city is still practically non-existent, as the problems of rebuilding, repairing, getting insurance claims etc etc from very tight insurance companies are proving to be very, very difficult. However I'll just go walking to discover what I can.

Earlier on arriving from the airport where a local bus was right there waiting for me, I perceived not too desolate a city driving into the centre, but then on arrival it hits you. It is a bomb site. Where the beautiful cathedral once was, is now ruins, and they are still deciding what to do with it, rebuild, or demolish. Some enthusiastic commercial people have used containers to set up small business on the empty square and it is there that I will visit later as it looks like a creative success story.

But here in Ballantynes business is quietly humming with many sitting at the small tables for their morning coffees, mostly elderly, like me, as Christchuch has an aging population with the younger people deserting in droves. Except, of course, for the student population which is vibrant with the University of Canterbury being one of the best, if not the best, in the country. So as with much of NZ, they educate the young brilliantly and then immediately lose their talented graduates to other countries. A pool of intellectual resources this country certainly is, and Christchurch produces a goodly part of them I would surmise.

As you can see from the daily Press, they are constantly in a state of repair, or how to make the most of what little is left, using prefab homes as an interim measure, but for how long, one wonders?

Making the best of it...

My quickly eaten pizza with cranberries

After my brunch I wander out to survey the rather depressing scene. I happen near a bus stop and see a bus signed 'Lyttelton', and decide to take a ride to the ocean. It is indeed a pretty half-hour rodeand the shipping, or fishing, township has also been earthquake ravaged. I wander along the picturesque streets and soon grab a return bus as my spectacles are calling. Once back in CC I locate an optometrist who sends me quickly to their mechanic for the necessary repair job. 

I am mightily pleased and another bus ride to a nearby suburb finds this necessary tradie to do the job. I know it was my impatience which created this situation in the first place, so I happily fork out the thirty dollars.  I now decide should I catch the Chopin movie at Colombo Cinema or just bus it to my host's destination. Feeling a little fatigued I take the latter option and now am happily ensconced in the warm bed looking forward to an early night. More about my hosts later.

Amazing New Zealand

This is the country of the New Amazons there is no doubt about that.

Yesterday along Evans Bay Parade, in the face of strong Northerly winds a lone cyclist was pedalling a not-so-new bicycle along the dramatic windswept road, hugging the coast as if it was about to be blown away. He was laden with the inevitable backpack, but an enormous one, stuffed with probably all his worldly possessions. It was slung at a precarious angle across his back, doubtless increasing the weight and discomfort. But no, this man was head-down, pedalling furiously, a string around his neck carrying ID of some sort, but the expression on his face was what marked him forever. He would let nothing beat him, nothing. Where he had come from, where he was going, I have no idea, but he was going to get there, with pedal power and grit. This is such a Kiwi trait, to do it against all odds.

To illustrate this yet again, that same day, in the evening in downtown Wellington I was waiting for a bus to take me home. I was well rugged up as it was a wet and windy day, typical of this city. A young man came lurching across the street having been shopping for provisions at the New World supermarket in Willis St. He was totally ordinary, in black as most young people, but he was in bare feet. Middle of winter, on ashfelt cement pavement, in bare feet. I jokingly asked if he'd lost his shoes, and he seriously looked at me and said. 'I prefer to walk in bare feet' and with a smile, he boarded his bus. Here was a Kiwi who was in touch with his country, albeit in this case with cold, wet pavement, just as the Australian Aborigines were for tens of thousands of years in bare feet, with little else to adorn their bodies. That is until the white man came and introduced him to the customs of their so-called civilisation, and also gave them unimaginable ills and habits which practically totally destroyed their ancient civilisation and culture. Thankfully they have survived, but only just, and still have a long way to go to be recognised for what they are, a great and enduring race of proud people, long persecuted and misunderstood. Such is Western civilisation...

A lovely hot ginger and honey drink before my Ti Whanawhana class.

The lovely Cafe Scopa...

Tomorrow I am off to Christchurch for the first time, just to privately celebrate the beginning of my  seventieth year.

Kawa Kawa Tea at The Laundry

So much to relate, three great movies, a move to Air BnB, and a little more shopping!

Tea at The Laundry

The movies, my last three of the fest, were possibly the best I have seen.

It is two days later...I forgot to save my last blog and I lost it, merde! So I have returned to the same spot to rewrite the blog. A lot has happened in two days but that is for a later episode, this one is for the movies.

The last three I saw at the Festival were first, an excellent drama set in San Francisco, very accurately portrayed in the days of early testing for AIDS. Called 'Test' it covered a few months in the lives of acouple of modern dancers, very good ones, in SF, and their battle to come to grips with the virus that was crippling the gay world in the US, and especially San Francisco and the arts scene, where so many talented gay people worked and played. They were typical of the exciting group of young men who were in love with their dancing  and did it extremely well. This movie was a delight for dance lovers, and also depicted sympathetically and sexily the situation of different attitudes to coping with the virus and its possible disastrous effects.These were happily not shown however, and the love element, which was shown, did prove overall, the most effective solution to coping with the imminent dosaster. A six star movie.

The next one, from Poland, was totally different. A brooding closeted priest, living in the country looking after a group of deliquent boys, is beautifully played by a top Polish actor. The boys finally discover he was gay and engineer his departure. However not without one of them falling hopelessly in love with him and following him to his next posting, deciding with the priest's help no doubt, to join the seminary where he would better be able to be close to, and even live with, his older lover. A strange story of sex in Poland and the Catholic church's closing of eyes to the enormous problem of gay priests which exists all around the world. It was touching, somewhat tragic, but illuminating and finally a sad indictment of the Catholic Church. Also six stars.

And finally another great doco of the festival about American Mark Bingham, the courageous and charismatic young man who diverted the plane on the  9.11 death mission and saved the Pentagon from disaster. His mother also featured as a large and amazing figure from whom he inherited his bravery and ability to cope in all adverse circumstances. It was called 'The Rugby Player' as Mark was a talented footy player who had adopted this English code and become a gay role model and great player. There is now a fierce rivalry between the US and Australia in Gay Rugby, and it is celebrated by the competition for the  'Bingham Cup'. Each two years it is fought in either country, most recently being won by Australia. An Australian girl who hosted Mark as a young exchange student also featured and gave fabulous stories about her beloved friend. It was an inspiring movie and I certainly give it six stars.

This was a fitting end to the festival for me. My friend K from Tiwhanawhana who came with me  also loved it. The Out Festival was as exciting as it was varied, and was so easy to attend that I felt privileged to be a Wellingtonian, and proud of my very favourite city in the world (at present).

And now on to Sunday night dancing with H.  Lots more to tell about my new BnB and launching myself on the Cyber Scene!

Kawakawa with honey

Sunday night on Cuba..

Lesley's Birthday

Another big day shaping up for A's last day, hopefully. The house will need to be cleared, both physically and metaphorically, before the next person arrives, perhaps that is why no-one yet has come forward. Her b.f. is bringing the van for the final move tonight. I plan to be 'at the movies'.

Today we had another party for Lesley, wirh his good friend K who is down from Auckland. A cake was brought by H and his partner P and it was all very merry at BP. It is great to be with Gemini friends as they are always such good company. Who knows, I may get a Gemini to share with, if not, to visit!

Am now at the Paramount for my penultimate queer fest movie, called 'Test', about, naturally, HIV testing in San Francisco at the arrival of AIDS in the eighties. Too close to home? I don't think so, as I am academic about all of this and lived through it to boot. We'll see how this one shapes up. H generously gave me his leftover tickets so I now have four freebies for tonight as well. K from TiWhanawhana has accepted my invitation to come with me for two more tonight, and both look interesting so I may even finish this festival on a high note.

H with partner P at B.P. 

Lesley with the lovely Kayleen

...they're worth two - both Geminis!

At the Paramount with the ubiquitous 'New Yorker'

..two of the better US offerings at the fest.