In this Quirky Tale, I recount our recent travels Downunder (and to the left a bit). New Zealand is a beautiful country, but alas... it is more expensive to live there these days, and many people are feeling the challenge of trying to make ends meet. Still, good to catch up with friends and re-visit.
Meet your Teacher
Mitaka, Tokyo, Japan
Transcript
Greetings and welcome. And these are. Quirky bedtime stories. I would say I am well-travelled, But I do not travel well. There's distinctions in there. There are various reasons for that, I believe, The main one being that I am genetically predisposed to inflict suffering either on myself or those in my company, Due to an abundance of Dutch genes. And they express themselves. Sometimes in a negative fashion, Under stress, Shall we say. Over time, Of course. One has realized that these things can be controlled and I do my best to do that. When these challenging situations arise, Especially Travelling. Recently, My wife and I, Blessed be she, Returned from a trip down under, And to the left a bit if we were flying from Japan, To the land of the long white cloud. Aotearoa. New Zealand. Locally regarded or referred to as Godzilla. For many appealing reasons. It is a land far away. Tucked at the bottom of the expansive blue of the Pacific Ocean, And if it had not been anchored in place by the gods themselves, It would have been sucked into the endless spinning vortex of the Antarctic itself. I could you not? At the very southern point of these blessed isles, It is possible to see the Aurora Australis. And, In midsummer, The days are long and stretchy. Not quite the land of midnight sun as in the North. But pretty darn close. I'm not a native of those green rain-soaked isles. But I do call it my second home, After being plonked there unceremoniously at the age of nine, Due to some impulse my parents had to immigrate there from the Netherlands, Way back in the distant past. I remember very clearly arriving in Wellington Airport. In a rather confused and befuddled state. Wondering how it was possible to go from the civilized world of European splendor to the corrugated iron construction that appeared before me. Wellington Airport at the time was only accessible by DC-3s from Sydney, And consisted of a post-World War II hangar that had been moved there from the old U. S. Army boot camp at Paikakariki. Whilst still on the plane. We were all sprayed with disinfectant and bug spray, And then after waiting a further eternity, Apparently to let the DDT spray have its effect, We were allowed to disembark. We walked down the stairs that had been pushed out from storage by airport workers, And once at the bottom of this portable aluminium contraption. My elder brother promptly vomited. Not an auspicious start to a new life. Ay, Ay, Ay. Sad to say, Within six months of arrival, The family fell apart, Leaving us firmly stranded with no way back to civilization. But we are not here to recount the unfortunate events that followed in terms of lack of family cohesion, Being thrust into borderline poverty and shunted from one rental house to another, And so forth. On a positive note. Suffice to say that life in New Zealand at that time was probably ten times better than it could have been anywhere else, Given the circumstances. Mountains, Forests, Lakes, Beaches, Fishing, Hiking, Rugby, And all kinds of other sports, And a society that was free enough to allow a young lad growing up to make as many mistakes as he wished without imposition. I'm not sure if that can be said these days. I did end up calling New Zealand home until the age of 35 when my wife, Blessed be she, And I decided to. Dig our toes in her home turf to see if we could make it go over there or not. The planned five-year stay in Japan turned out to be permanent, And we are now firmly resident in Tokyo, And all is well and good. Getting back to our trip. We had not been back to New Zealand since the passing of my mother and the impromptu scattering of her ashes just up the road from Fisherman's Table restaurant in Paekakariki. Oddly enough, In this tale. That particular place keeps cropping up. Corona, COVID intervened and before we knew it, Eight years had passed. In the flying process, I believe that I am best suited to comfort and small luxuries in order to keep me happy, And that has taken some time to arrive at. At first, I would cram myself into ridiculously narrow economy class seats, And have to scrunch up my knees onto the seat back in front of me, Kink my head at an odd angle, And so wedged, Attempt to get some sleep on an extended 12-hour flight. Night. I could never understand why the flight attendant would wish me a pleasant day once we had arrived, As the experience certainly was closer to the unpleasant end of the spectrum than anything else. These days I state categorically that the flight is part of the vacation and insist that my lanky 190cm frame is at least catered for in some spacious seating. I would say that the best plane for that so far has been the Airbus A380, Which on a number of occasions I have chosen to fly. In, Even though it meant a bit of a tea tour through Singapore or Sydney. What a magnificent beast that is. Very much like being cocooned in a large, Flying marshmallow that gently wafts all aboard from one distant place to another. It is indeed a pity that they are at the end of their production. I suggest that you get on board one of those while you can. Thoroughly worth it. Any hope. Premium economy allows me a bit more room, The food is a bit better, And, Well, It results in a less grumpy Dutchman, And so very much worth it for the extra ticket price. On an interesting aside, These days Air New Zealand, Instead of bumping passengers up for free to business class, Hold seat auctions, Where you can place a bid for any vacant seat in business class, And if your bid wins, Then you get a seat. I did opt for that and entered in the lowest possible amount, Without any ritz-off, But never mind. Arriving at Auckland Airport after, I would say, A pleasant flight. Even though I expected the doors of the Boeing, Whatever it is, To be sucked open mid-flight, And strapped myself firmly to my seat, At least to improve my chances of survival should that happen. You may think I'm being a bit paranoid, But the safety record of Boeing these days is Not great. Anyway, My brother picked us up and. . . Took us to our hotel in Takapuna by the beach. Auckland, If you know anything about it, Is an oddly shaped hourglass city, With the main city and the north shore connected by a rather feeble and ageing structure proudly dubbed THE Auckland Harbour Bridge. Yes, That is a singular, As there is no other way across except by ferry or swimming. Not an issue in days gone by, I would say, But certainly one now is. Peak flow traffic gets snarled up in the morning rush, And again in the evening rush hour going back. And there is no solution at this moment other than not living on the North Shore or not living in Auckland. But seeing that this is Godzone's most fearless city, It seems that people somehow masochistically enjoy being stuck in their personalized tin cans for up to four hours per day, While the rest of the country, In its bucolic serenity, Is blissfully unaware of their daily struggles. And so it is. Never mind all that. We enjoyed our brief stay on the North Shore. The cafes at the beachside, Walking along Takapuna Beach. The steamed green mussels and beer. All good, Really. I did wonder, Though, Where all the people were. It seemed rather underpopulated, And this is not really a straight comparison to Shibuya in Japan, But underpopulated even at the weekends. And this is a straight comparison to the last time we were there, When it was certainly much more abuzz. My brother said that for many New Zealanders, Life is becoming increasingly more expensive and challenging. And that it is difficult and verging on the impossible for a family to make ends meet. Even with both parents working and the children off in the salt mine somewhere. Yes, The prices of everything are sky-high and heading higher, Due in part, I believe, To the complications created by that idiot in the White House, With gas now at $3 per litre. And unbelievably a block of simple cheese. Mainland cheese is now $20. When in my student days, Not so very long ago, We could get the same one kilo block of cheese for $2. 50 at the most. Unless my memory is rather quirky, Which is. . . It is now no longer possible to realistically buy a house and to be mortgage-free within this lifetime. Now, When mortgage holders shuffle off this mortal coil, Rather than passing on an inheritance to their offspring, They pass on family debt. And that gets added to the other debts commonly held. Student loans being an introductory tribulation for many. I may speak about the horrors of student loans later on sometime. We decide to avoid Wellington altogether on this trip, For no other reason than it holds painful family history within its hills. But I do check out the window, And far below, A glimpse of Pycock Reekie and the expanse of Queen Elizabeth Park at its edge. Some memories get brought to the surface at that instant, And I realize, In all honesty, That life there was not all unpleasant. And indeed many good times were ahead, Especially in the summers around Waikanae and its gorgeous river that abounded in deep cool swimming spots. Unfortunately, Those same spots are not accessible now due to numerous landowners preventing attempts at access. Who will. I had forgotten that Dunedin Airport is essentially a paddock twenty minutes out from the city, And our plane has to circle the runway a couple of times to scare off the grazing sheep. We jump into our rental car, Without much in the way of complications, And head north to the city itself. Always a pleasant reveal from the hills of Mosguil, To see the wee Scottish tomb below us. It hasn't changed much. And, To be honest, It can't really. There's nowhere to go. Hills on three sides and a harbour on the fourth, And there it is. The jewel of the South. Our stay in St. Kilda is in a rather quirky hotel at the very edge of the surf. We are able to see the hardy surfing crowd jump into the crashing waves of wetsuits and boards keeping them relatively warm in the Arctic waters. I'm never really sure if it's ever worth all the trouble to dedicate so much of life to this particular pursuit, But it seems to be meaningful. Or else, Why would they do it? Even when it is a known feeding ground for great white sharks that like to munch occasionally on the odd human form masquerading as a seal. I stand back in awe and admiration as I see yet again another surfer claim a wave and scoot gracefully towards the shore. The following day we head for a drive to Larnac Castle and an afternoon tea, As well as a romp in the castle gardens. We say castle, But it is actually nothing short of a rich man's folly, Built to try to impress his young wife. There is tragedy in the tale, I forget exactly what happened, But I hear there are ghosts, And weeping and maniacal laughter to be experienced if everyone decides to stay there over the night. Which you can, By the way. Onwards and upwards along the coast brings us to my favourite place in New Zealand, Oamaru. People think I'm kidding. But not so, In all honesty. It is the steampunk capital of New Zealand, Exhibits wonderful grandiose stone buildings down the main street, Has a number of old stately homes on the South Hill, And then there are the penguins. I do another tale dedicated to these well-dressed members of maritime society, And I encourage you to listen to it, If you choose to do so, Of course. Torrential rain, And winter gales do not dampen our spirits, As yet again we go penguin-spotting. We are pleased to discover that our wee friends are in good health and still attract numerous visitors each evening to witness their beach landings. This time, The audience seemed to be a busload of visiting Chinese tourists, And the commentary is given in English, And then quickly translated into Chinese. All good for business, Eh? On the way back from visiting our tuxedoed friends, We espy a restaurant named The Star and Garter, Which, Apparently, After a brief Google-related research, Has been in operation in the same spot in Amaru since the birth of the universe itself. It must be good, I say to my wife. Blessed be she. And we venture in. To be greeted by a restaurant full to the brim of local sheep farmers, Families, Friends, Relations, Trout fishermen, And glider pilots. It must be good, I say again. And we are not disappointed by the speed of the service, The quality of the roast lamb, And the general good nature of all gathered there. It feels like one big extended family. Known only to locals. So if you're ever in Amaru, It's worth a visit if you are ever there. I know that I will be a repeat visitor for sure. To my joy. The next day. I am made aware of a sweet factory on the outskirts of Oamaru that makes milk pot gummies. That are my absolute favorite must-haves after custard squares and a good potato and mince pie. The news gets even better as once we arrive at the factory shop, I'm faced with kilogram bags of gummies, Pineapple lumps, Licorice of all sorts, And a plethora of other sweets directly linked to my memory to childhood deprivations. I'm determined to settle that ghost once and for all, And buy a one-kilogram bag of milk-bottle gummies, Another kilo bag of pineapple lumps, And I'm balancing a bag of licorice all towards my right knee, When my wife—blessed be she, Still—holds me tightly in the headlock and screams, I get the message eventually, Although I do manage to distract her and quickly hide another bag of gummies under my jersey. Our last port of call on this rather eventful trip so far is Christchurch, With brief stops in Timaru and Ashburton along the way. If you do not know, Christchurch suffered a massive earthquake in 2011, The same year as the 9. 2 Fukushima earthquake in Japan. Perhaps they are connected somehow, Hmm? Interesting and highly possible as both New Zealand and Japan are sighted along the Pacific Ring of Fire. Christchurch. Has taken a long time to recover. And there are still areas of the city that are out of bounds due to land instability. The central Christchurch Cathedral, Which is still a heap of rubble, Bears a sorry testament to local and church politicking. Bear in mind that Notre-Dame in Paris was rebuilt within a year of its destruction by fire, If I'm correct. Christchurch Cathedral, On the other hand, Has been in rubble now for 15 years! Come on! Probably best to bulldoze the bloody thing and put a park with swings and a merry-go-round in it for kids. Much more useful. Unbelievable. Anyway, Let's hope that gets sorted within this lifetime. I catch up with Tony. An old friend from days gone by? And I believe I thoroughly impress him with my snigger skills. Even though one game takes us two hours to complete, The game is tight and tense, Until the very end, When I decide that there has been enough poncing around, And pop the remaining balls smartly one off the other, Clenching victory. At least that is my memory of it. A great game, Snooker And it reminds me that I must find a suitable snooker establishment here in Tokyo The problem is one of space, I believe A full-size snooker table is pretty bloody big And here they are, Numerous. Who holds with ease. Little pool tables that you can't do much with. Anyway, Further research is required. So, We've been back in Tokyo for a bit now, And currently there are three typhoons hovering off the coast of Tokyo, Bringing some respite. To the 35 degree heat that we are experiencing in summer. Lots of rain and lots of wind. Sometimes these typhoons do end up in damage, And yes, There has been that of late. So, Two countries at opposite end of a watery globe spinning through space and hurtling around the sun for an eternity to come. We live for a short time. And in the greater scheme of things, What we do, What we think and what we experience is temporal and fleeting. It makes it even more special. Don't you think? Be well.
5.0 (3)
Jeffrey
August 18, 2026
Surprisingly it took me two attempts to reach the end. But as always an entertaining ramble through some of your memories. And I can confirm a quite accurate account of present day New Zealand. Thank you as always Nico 😊🙏
