Off to Art Deco in Napier

Today is our biggest driving day as we head from Wellington to Napier + allegedly 4hours or so of driving.

We decide to have breakfast on the road and Haley’s phone skills find us a cute little cafe in Upper Hut that seems to be a converted church hall. They have bowls of coffee which we find very exciting. There is mince on toast on the menu - which I think is cute - but none of us order it.

Our other mission is to go to a wildlife park on the way that promises a white kiwi. We had been going to go to Zealandia in Wellington - but it only promised us sounds of the birds. We wanted to see them.

The wildlife park is about halfway - but it turns out to be tricky to find on our various electronic navigation devices so we end up resorting to entering the latitude and longitude into the Navman. Which seems to navigate us through some interesting backroads where the only other traffic is a guy on his lawnmower and the occasional tractor..

We pass through Greytown - which one prettiest town. And looks full of interesting shops and such - but also PACKED with people. There are lots of people snapping photos - we wonder if Eminem - who is in town for a concert - has popped out for a visit.

When we reach the wildlife sanctuary it is lovely. We get to see lots of birds and most importantly the white kiwi. Kiwis are bigger than I thought. And I can see why they are appealing - something about the way they move I think.

We have a lovely time there then get back on the road to Napier. We arrive at around 5  - just after all the shops are shut. This could be a good thing for my bank balance. The way into town seems not very deco at all - but the center of town is lovely.

The bay is also spectacular. I am intrigued by the beach - which is all round grey pebbles.

Oddly - because it was difficult to find accommodation the town feels dead. But we do manage a wander along the shore and through the Art Deco buildings.

Then we go to the supermarket on the way home and end up spending way more than we meant to buying chili sauce. There seem to be a lot more varieties here than in Australia.

I can see a real theme of chili sauce and coffee emerging in this trip...

A bit of mulch a at Te Papa

The first thing to confess is that I manage to stuff up our accommodation booking - so we have one more night in Wellington than we have accommodation for. Some last minute searching and a credit card get us accommodation in the Boulcott suites in the city - which turn out to be lovely.

Once lovely Matt has navigated us through the twisty turns streets and tiny tunnels - it was garbage day adding to the degree of difficulty - we park at our new accommodation. There is yet another great cafe close by for delicious coffee and breakfast and then we wander down to the Harbour side and enter Te Papa.

We had the option of Terra-cotta warriors and a big Gallipoli exhibit- but I wanted to focus on New Zealand things so we looked at all the Maori carvings and exhibits about the birds and interaction of people with the landscape. Beautiful carvings.

I don’t seem to have much to say about it but we were there for a lot of the day.

On the way back we stop at Hannah’s lane - which I had seen on one of those tourist activity snippets on a lifestyle channel. I buy some overpriced chocolate - but the soda shop on the show has gone and overall it seems less appealing than the presenter made out.  Sigh.

On our way back to our little townhouse, we picked this place to eat that specialist did in all kinds of slow roasted meats  just down the street from our hotel.  When I went out a bit later to get some extra bits from the car, I heard a “whoop whoop” evacuate now type fire alarm. I was relieved that it wasn’t our building but didn’t think much more of it.

As we go to dinner the alarm is still going - of course it is the place we had picked for dinner. It also turns out to be next to Wellington’s tallest building - so it is a bit of a drama with closed roads and 7 fire trucks.

Over all my impression is that Wellington seems like a little place and didn’t seem to me to feel like a capital city. I forgot to go on the cable car. A bit sad about that. And I haven’t seen Houses of Parliament and all those grand kind of capital city buildings - which is my bad for just not thinking of it.  But the feel of the city seemed much more homey than iconic to me. It also really is windy.

Nerding out at Weta workshops

Visiting Wets was at the top of Mats things to do list inNew Zealand (and OK so I was pretty keen too) so today is all about making sure we do that. I had booked everything you can do at Weta workshops tour for the afternoon.

The first thing we have to do in the morning though is pick up the hire car. Luckily the airport is only a short walk away. We can start our LOTR day by checking out Smaug and Gandalf flying giant eagles ( OK so maybe they are The  Hobbit) things) which are both on display at the airport.

We pick up the car RAV4 as advertised and Blue! It was doing a weird thing of automatically braking as you drove down hills so we ended up picking upHaley and going BACK to the airport so we could ask them. Luckily it turns out they sold delicious bagels and coffee at the airport. So breakfast was also sorted.  Wellington has to have the narrowest roads and the most blind corners of anywhere I have ever been. Luckily Matt took over the driving. I don’t know how the Armageddon trucks and busses aren’t just constnaly in accidents.

We had been warned that parking around Weta was difficult and we allowed extra time. But actually it was pretty near impossible and we hadn’t allowed enough. Turned out we had booked near school pick up time and there is a school there so that might have made it worse. And all the parking is just on the side of the aforementioned narrow roads.

Once we got there though Weta was awesome. They do mention that LOTR was 20 years ago (it really doesn’t feel that long) and that they have done a thing or two since. But the highlights were still getting to hold a fighting weight elvish sword, a Gimli walking axe (foam) and Orcrist.

The gift shop was pretty good too - kept finding just one more thing.

So we did the workshop tour - which includes windows into the actual workshop( no people making swiards on the day we were there) and an actual model maker to talk to - although none of us really had anything to say. Then a tour of the miniatures studio - which I KNEW was Thunderbirds but hoped really wasn’t. Then. a sculpting workshop that also included a room with lots of movie artifacts and was where we got to hold the weapons.

The miniatures were really interesting in terms of all the odds and ends that end up in them to represent other things. Apparently someone wrote in to the creator of the original Thunderbirds to complain about the lemon squeezer used to represent a jet engine. That became a challenge to incorporate as many lemon squeezers as possible into the miniature sets. I got to slide the pool back on the Tracy house.

The modeling workshop was also lots of fun. We all came out with a little head modeled on a base of aluminium foil. There was one woman in the group who just didn’t stop talking though. Made me nervous in case sometimes that is me. But she had something to say to EVERYTHING and then there was another woman who was that, “I can top that story.” person. It would have been nice to get some more instruction about modeling rather than hearing more than I wanted to know about that woman’s family.

But anyway lots of fun.

We have dinner at a delicious Mexican restaurant with three varieties of chili sauce. Paired with a rose sangria. Delish!

Are we there yet?

For some reason I couldn’t write any more on that last post...

So, on my second airport bus trip. I take the last seat - which is next to a toddler. Again, tell my tale of woe to that family, and shoot off the bus as fast as I can when it stops. Not as fast as the Schlubbs - who really are moving.

I can’t help noticing that the signs to the gate I am heading for again appears last in the range of gates on all the signs. And sure enough, when I reach the corridor it is on, it is the very last gate - again. Is there some auto setting when you are running late?

And by this time I really am running. I figure it can only be half a kilometre. I can run that far...

Glimpses of departure boards along the way show the status as Go to gate ( I’m trying!) - which is definitely better than Flight closed. As I get closer, I can see there is a queue. But after all this I can hardly believe it. “Are you waiting for the flight to Wellington?” I gasp to a friendly face in the queue when I am close enough.

“Yes,” she smiles.

“I thought I was late,” I exclaim in relief as I head to the back of the queue. Which now that I am stopped, I notice isn’t moving...

As I catch my breath, they make the announcement. Engineering have a concern about the plane (never what you want to hear) and they will have more news about departure times at 7. If you have lounge access you can go back there. Well, at least that is good news.

I head for the lounge to wait in comfort.

A departure time of 8:05 is eventually announced. Putting arrival to Wellington at around 1:30am.

Finally we board. This time from a gate that is NOT the last one in the corridor.  When the pilot comes on he announces that we will be aiming for 1:30 arrival - which is when Wellington airport closes. So if we are late we have to land in Auckland instead.

Aaargh. I’m still not on my way to Wellington!

But lucky for me we DO make it. We must have landed at 1:29 ...

Matt and Haley are still there waiting for me. And turns out we are close enough to walk home from the airport.

So - a more eventful journey than I was hoping for - but maybe it is all about the destination after all.

It’s about the journey not the destination .”.

I am writing this morning from the cosy and comfy living room of the air bnb that I am sharing with Haley and Matt.

Through the windows you can actually SEE the airport.  You can hear it a little - but their sound insulation must be really good because it is a dull hum rather than an overwhelming roar.

I am particularly pleased to be here because at various points in my journey yesterday I didn’t think I was going to get here. Although I would have ended up SOMEWHERE.

When I booked my flight I booked it from end to end -Canberra to Wellington. And I probably paid more attention to the price and the time it was leaving Canberra than to things like whether there was really time to get from one plane to the other in Sydney.

When I really concentrated closer to the time, I was concerned that there was an only an hour between flights. I mentioned it to the girl behind the desk when I checked in - but she reassured me that it would be OK.

So it was a DASH 8 plane - slightly longer commute but cheaper... Of course I was seated in the very back row.  Then, after a slightly delayed take off they announced that we were going to stay in the air for another 15 minutes due to delays in Sydney. All of that meant that as we taxied in it was 5:45 - which was also the time printed on my boarding pass for the next leg of my trip - Sydney to Wellington.

So - DASH 8. My hand luggage was too big and had to be checked. Every other time I have got off a flight like this the checked hand luggage has been waiting at the bottom of the steps. Not today. The luggage handlers are unloading it and all us dopes with the big bags have to wait around while they bring it over. “I’m really worried,” I say to the chap who appears to be in charge,”My international flight is supposed to be boarding right now.”

“Well, I can’t make this any faster,” he says, calmly. “And you have to get between terminals and through Immigration- so they probably won’t hold the flight that long.  But you can get on the first bus to the terminal.” Because today, of course, the plane is parked so far from the terminal that we need a bus.

I scramble onto the first bus (my new pal having reopened the doors just for me. A lovely man has been watching me with my rabbit in the headlights panic face and has stood up so that I have a seat. Of course I chat to him and the fellow next to me. “Wellington will still be there. There are lots of flights.”

“Yes,” I say, “But mine was getting in at 11:45pm already. There won’t be lots of other flights TODAY. “

Mentally I am preparing for a night in Sydney. And am grateful that our tour of Weta workshops is booked for the afternoon.

I bolt off the bus first to cries of good luck and wind my way at speed through the twists and turns and stairs to the actual gate. Gate 15 is what I need to transfer to the next terminal. Of course, we have come in two long corridors away from it. Off I go.

Where are those moving walkways when you actually need them?there appear to be none on my route.

I tell my tale of woe to the lady controlling the queue for the transfer bus. Luckily they are boarding one just as I arrive. “Where were you?” She says.

This strikes me as an odd question. “Where do you think I was?” I wonder. Do you think I just popped into the Domestic terminal for a spot of shopping on my way out.” But I reply, mildly, that I was on a plane from Canberra and she puts a stamp on my boarding pass that says priority- but seems to make no actual difference at all. They are much more concerned about the Schlubbs, who turn out to be another couple late for a flight.

I scramble to the bus - last one on again - and off we go