Today was to be a day of touristy stuff in NZ. I got the distinct impression this was not going to be Claire’s favourite day of the holiday but I suppose doing tourist stuff in your country of birth isn’t really that exciting, regardless of if you’ve been to the locations before.
On our agenda was Waitomo caves and Hobbiton. But first there was a little three hour drive to get out of the way. I decided I should take my share of the driving today so the first leg from New Plymouth to Waitomo was mine. Claire did mention it wasn’t an easy drive but in my cavalier way I said I could handle it.

We seemed to go up and down about five mountains, windy roads and got stuck behind the trifecta, caravan, truck and camper van. I think the older I get, much to my dismay, I get more like my father. I spent most of the journey complaining about people going slow or another truck appearing on the horizon ahead. I did though unlike my dad ever would, stop on the way. I remember many childhood journeys where he refused to stop on en route.

We arrived at a very touristy looking Waitomo caves with tourist streaming all over the place and my spirits dropped a little. I find a very touristy experience can diminish my enjoyment of certain things but I was completely wrong. We were taken into the caves by a very jolly slow talking guy who I reckon would make a very good primary school teacher. He made a few dad jokes like ‘they say if you feel one or two drops of water in the caves, it’s good luck, if you feel more than three you’re under the toilets’. One of the caves we went into was famous for singers holding concerts in and one of our group took the plunge and sing. She would have been late teens/early twenties. Such is the shamelessness of the youth eh? The sound of her singing filled the cave in such a rounded way. Our guide let us know the acoustics were pretty much perfect.

This incident though was preceded by a funny event. One customer in the group in front of us asked our tour guide to be quiet because he couldn’t hear his tour guide, to which our guide replied ‘talk to your tour guide not me’, the customer then kept waffling on and our guide was having none of it so he asked our singer to sing as loud as possible.

We got on a boat to drift through the glowworm caves which was quite amazing. They twinkled like stars on the ceilings and walls and lit the caves like a bright night sky. If you looked closely you could see them wriggling so the light was never static. It’s very rare you have the opportunity to sit in the dark, in silence and admire your surroundings in such a way. It was quite awe inspiring and something I was glad I did.

A short drive our motel for the night in Cambridge was followed by us heading out pretty quickly to Hobbiton to see where The Hobbit was filmed. Again I harboured a few worries that this would be a major touristy event and maybe ruined by that however I was pleasantly surprised to find the group numbers were limited, the tour guide funny and the whole experience pretty neat. It started with a tour around Hobbiton itself with the guide explaining how’s the Hobbit holes were built to how the whole place was kept. I did find myself wondering why they’d chose to build something and preserve it that they used only very sparingly in the film but I suppose it was one of the only fixed locations.
The culmination of the tour was a hobbit banquet at the Green Dragon pub. There was way to much food but of course as with every banquet everyone does have a habit of over eating. I think the beer was nice, I tried both on tap and couldn’t complain.

After 5 hours in Hobbiton we jumped on the bus and returned to the car. Only to realise both our phones had died and we didn’t really know where our motel was apart from 30 mins away. Probably the first real test of our relationship but together we pieced together the fragments of our memories and reached the motel after only three or four wrongly taken roads.

IJS

  
We woke to complete darkness and no sound. The best hotels tend to be like this. Whilst enjoying the spa bath last night we’d noticed the wind blowing through the vent. However our room faces an internal courtyard and so we had no exterior facing window so were unaware of what was going on outside.

Perhaps our first indication of it was a text from Claire’s mum apologising for the storm overnight. We thought nothing of it as we headed downstairs. As we got outside we were greeted with a huge gust of wind and worse rain than we had experienced on the drive here.

We’re starting to plan our food recommendations around the Lonely Planet and this morning liked the sound of Chaos. A modern jazz playing, hipster cafe round the corner from our hotel. We only got drenched a couple of times on the five minute walk but the ambience and food was well worth it.

This afternoon was a bit of a treat for me, a trip out to Mike’s brewery just outside New Plymouth and the perfect thing to do on a rainy day. The place was relatively empty, we stayed a couple of hours, ample time to get through all the beers on tap (all 12 of them) and to look around the merchandise. The place was pretty cool, a variety of buildings, a cellar door type, a brewery and another couple of sheds. Our time outside was limited though by the torrential rain streaming down the windows. The glimpses of the brewery cat darting past the window certainly provided some entertainment though.

Claire now took the wheel to drive back, I did offer but it was kindly yet firmly refused. A brief stop at a roadside green grocer for some more strawberries and grapes broke our trip back to New Plymouth.

Once there Claire took me on a trip down memory lane showing me the place she lived, where she use to work and the places she used to go. It was quite nice seeing her reaction to them and the mix of emotions they threw up.

We returned to the hotel to park and take a walk down the seafront. I think it’s probably the first time I’ve seen black sand, so unusual compared to the golden sand of most Australian beaches. The walk was cut short by the rain once again starting and we retreated to our hotel room.

Dinner was at what seems is a popular refurb in New Plymouth. Any eatery that pretends it’s something else, or maybe Joe’s Garage was once a garage but it’s not anymore. The decor was full of pictures of cars, the door handles were spanners and the walls were brick. It was nicely done but I suppose Melbourne is two a penny of these so to me it felt a little like being back home.

As we headed home to our hotel, the excitement started to build, tomorrow we are going to Hobbiton!

IJS

  
It had just gone midnight. I felt something strange, the bed was moving, the doors were opening and closing and I was gently rocking back and forth. I don’t know what I thought I wasn’t quite sleeping but I wasn’t quite awake either. Was it a dream? A scene from poltergeist playing over in my head?

Next thing I felt Claire push me to wake me up and then I heard her raised voice say ‘stop the bed rocking’. It’s all still very dreamlike, it doesn’t make much sense. The whole house is creaking as the bed rocks ba ck and forward. Through Claire’s panic, I try and process what is going on. I can hear noises from outside, my first explanation was its a strong storm and the house is pitching in the storm. For a second this seemed to make sense before I discounted it.

I was too busy trying to work out what had gone on to be scared. Then it came to me. A few years prior when living in Elwood, I remember lying on the sofa one night and suddenly a shaking began. I instantly got up and the apartment felt like I was standing on one of those rope bridges across a river that bounce up and down. I remember jumping up and down to see if it felt worse. Now I know though this was an Earthquake.

Claire came to the same conclusion pretty fast. The tremor stopped and I wandered through the house to make sure everything was okay. On my return to bed, my thoughts turned to confirming the thought. A quick check of Twitter confirmed a 6.6 magnitude earthquake had struck the South Island with shocks felt all the way to Auckland.

This day was about goodbyes, we said goodbye to Claire’s sister who flies back to the U.S.. And to Claire’s parents who flew back to Auckland. Although that one was less final. We now drive back to Auckland over the next few days. And today was my day to get back behind the wheel. 
After dropping everyone at Palmerston North International airport we drove off towards New Plymouth or rather I did. First time in Claire’s dad’s car so I attempted to be very careful. Probably best I don’t tell you the story about how I managed to get it up to 140 kph at one point. He did say it doesn’t get much of a run out so in mind I was just testing its capability out. It passed by the way.

I extended our journey round what I thought was a coastal route but what turned out to be no-where near the coast route but instead the scenery was fields and torrential rain. We stopped briefly at a strawberry farm. About 4 hours later we arrived at our destination for the next few days, New Plymouth.

Always nice to get an upgrade and our spa room is certainly different from our last two nights accomodation and the king size bed will be more comfortable than the double we slept in.

The rain continued to pour down and we decided staying close to the hotel was the best idea. We picked a closeby restaurant to the hotel out of the lonely planet and as luck would have it, it was in the hotel. The Japanese meal went down well. We retired by 9pm, drifting into a deep sleep.

IJS

Not the best nights sleep. Well it was one of those nights where I didn’t think I slept to well but I still appear to lie in bed till past 9am so it really can’t have been that bad.

Swimming was again on the agenda this morning after a successful swim in Auckland yesterday so off we went to the local pool. Considering the size of the town, the pool complex was amazingly big with three separate pools, a steam room and a sauna. And really not anyone about either. A leisurely 28 minutes was spent swimming up and down whilst the last two were spent challenging Claire to a race. We then eloped to the steam room for a few minutes before a freezing cold shower and a ride home.

Breakfast was kept simple, a couple of pieces of toast sufficed before I decided a wander was in order to explore all Palmerston North had to offer. An hour wandering into the city centre, round Rebel Sports (just to see how if differed from Oz), to the memorial in the centre and then a wander into Countdown (NZs Woolworths) and that was about all the highlights.

At the moment I’d wandered into Countdown, initially to get a paper but it then progressed to me innocently wandering up the beer aisle and gazing lovingly at the many beers I’d never tried, Claire messages and asked how far away I was. As an man in this situation would do, I took this as ‘come home now’ and so set foot slightly hurriedly back towards our Airbnb.

This afternoon was on paper for me at least a somber affair. A few weeks ago when we were in Coogee we learnt of the death of Claire’s grandmother. This afternoon was to be a memorial for her and the reason we’d flown to Palmerston North. I made it back in time for the second car over to the venue (Claire’s uncles house). In truth in the second carload there was just me due to my lateness arriving back. 
We pulled into the driveway of a beautiful large property with a very pretty garden, picturesque veranda and an ornately decorated house. I noticed as we pulled up at least 10 cars in the drive, so many more than I was expecting.

We walked towards the house and was instantly greeted my Claire’s uncle who I instantly found very warm, maybe it’s a bit of a NZ trait but everyone seems so welcoming and very happy to chat. Its not necessarily what I find in Australia and when you don’t know people it’s very nice because I’m feeling everyone is making an effort to come up and chat to me. It certainly makes events like this very easy and inspite of the reason we were there I really enjoyed conversing with a hoard of people about a variety of things from how we’d both met to what I thought of Brexit to how I came to Melbourne.
The more welcome and loved people make you feel, the more you let yourself become you.

The speeches were quite beautiful and although I never got to meet Claire’s grandmother it certainly gave me an idea of how she was and many of the traits I see in her granddaughter now make sense. Especially her strange love to grapes. Claire’s mother’s speech was particularly touching and gave a timeline of her life from leaving England in her teens to her final few years.

Much drinks and food was consumed over the course of the day and I thoroughly enjoyed being there. We arrived back in our Palmerston North home for a debrief and to head to bed after a long day.

IJS 13/11/2016

  
It’s not really anything I get nervous about. I used to but now it’s something I quite enjoy. Maybe it explains my love of biographies, I enjoy meeting new people, learning their stories. We wandered up from the bottom of the house, I’m feeling the apprehension coming from Claire. We walk into the kitchen and are greeted by two big smiles. Claire’s father and sister. From there it’s seamless, conversation flows back and forth, I feel the warmth in the room. Claire’s mother arrives back from the shops with the breakfast, the introductions are over. It’s strange how fast things feel normal in these situations.

Breakfast over I head out for a swim. Supposedly it’s good for my back which has been playing up for weeks but I just think of it as a vigorous exercise I can do without pain. I’m the worse swimmer though, I don’t like to get my hair wet so there is absolutely no head under water stuff for me. After my 30 minute swim I noted a few things, in Melbourne I’m a slow lane swimmer but in Auckland I’m a fast lane swimmer, no-one gets naked in the showers (apart from me) and there is hardly anyone swimming on a Saturday morning.

The morning passed and we climbed on another plane off to Palmerston North. The flight was a pretty easy hour up in the air and upon landing I did something I’ve done for the first time. Walk from an airport to the place we were staying. Saying that it was only forty minutes and I did manage to get a picture of me under a large sign saying ‘toot if you love Palmy’. Obviously to me this all talks about my love of chicken parma but to others it may talk about the city we’ve just arrived in.

We arrived at our Airbnb which was a nice house on a quiet suburban street. Have to admit since Claire has introduced me to Airbnb I have begun to love it. The places you stay really are a bit more homely than a roadside motel. The house was large, four bedrooms of which we only require three and a nice fully fitted kitchen. Where we prepared and cooked a functional yet delicious meal for Claire’s parents and sister who drove down from Auckland.

We briefly walked a quick 10 minutes down to the local supermarket where my eyes lit up at the amazing selection of beers I hadn’t tried before. Claire shopped the rest of the store whilst I spent 10 minutes wide eyed in the beers department.

The night was lovely. We all sat round the table, eating, drinking, talking, doing crosswords with a mixture of serious and not very serious conversation. Sometimes the best of times are the simplest of times. It was a lovely evening full of warmth and laughter.

IJS 12/11/2016

Claire eating yoghurt. It’s quiet. Lots of empty seat as. Light streams in from the window. The tails of the flying kangaroos roll past the window. It’s that time again. Our second international trip but it’s only the same time travelled as a trip to the west of this sunburnt land.

The airport is empty, it surprising. People slowly stream through as we get nearer to check in. It’ll be midnight when we arrive, well ten really the two hour time difference loses us a couple of hours.

I can’t remember if it’s my third or fourth trip to New Zealand. I can remember two times so in all honesty it’s probably my third. This time is different though. To travel with a kiwi as your partner is bound to offer a different experience much as I’d imagine someone visiting the UK with me would be. There are relatives to meet, events to attend and an insiders view to appreciate.

And so just past midnight (NZ time) we crawl off the plane into Auckland airport. The journey was relatively uneventful and quick. I suppose having travelled to Berlin a few week ago the near four hour flight was relatively insignificant. It doesn’t feel too unusual as it does sometimes when you land in strange new lands but that maybe because of Claire and her knowledge of this place it feels less unusual than it maybe should. We arrive at Claire’s parents house, security lights come on, I feel from Claire the comfort of home from the atmosphere that she creates which I dwell within. I have a quick scan around a home that is new to me but familiar after the many pictures I’ve seen.

We drift off to sleep in joint slumber with the rest of the house.

IJS 11/11/2016

  
It’s not nice. I know people suffer a lot worse things in their lives but sometimes it’s hard to gain perspective. It might help if I listened, if I’d actually started what was recommended straight away instead of employing my normal tactic and carrying on regardless. It seems like it will never go, like I’ll have this for the rest of my life but that is a pretty irrational thought. It’s hard not being able to do the things you love.

Being in a situation I’ve never been in, it’s hard to grasp some perspective to understand it may only be a few weeks of rest and then everything will be right again. Instead I sit there and wonder if my life will ever be the same again. Will I ever be able to run? Will I ever be able to go to the gym? Will I ever be able to cycle to work?

Physical problems are very much mental problems as well, if that condition robs you of something you’re good at and something that gives you confidence in life when everything else doesn’t seem to be going your way. It’s something that regulates my weight without me having to try too much. After losing 25kg a few years ago I’m extremely conscious never to put that back on and I’ve successfully managed this for the last few years.

It’s strange, the thought of it takes me back, takes me back to when I was a child, I remember my father complaining about his back. I can remember him lying down on a piece of wood, I can remember him in agony. I couldn’t tell you what age I was, most of my childhood memories appear like dreams to me popping in and out of the clouds. I rarely remember sounds or words said, rather snapshots, like photos of certain times that current events prompt. I remember feeling how those snapshots made me feel. I remember feeling my father’s anger, I’m unsure if it was at the people around him or just at his body. Disappointingly I can’t remember how long it went on for, but I know he hasn’t complaining of his back for many years so in that I see hope.

It’s not really the same either, he was in agony. This has never made me feel like that, it’s just something niggly in my back that doesn’t feel quite right. That’s painful, although not excruciating, it comes on when I make certain movements. In fact I could go through the majority of a day if I’m distracted with other stuff and not feel it at all. I think the thought is that the injury was done a few weeks ago and the pain I’m getting now is in some way to do with me over compensating for the injury.

I’m told to reduce all exercise, from cycling, running, gym and even walking. After a week or two of false dawns I’m nearly there. In my usual crazy way, when I was first told, I thought I knew better. Her advice to catch the train instead of cycle to work seemed silly to me. The ride is only 20 minutes, I don’t carry much weight and the trains I normally get on mean I have to push my way on and stand cramped for the whole journey. Saying that, the whole journey is only 10 minutes. After believing I’d made the right decision and my back was coming right, towards the latter end of the week a trip to the theatre and a couple of hours in a seat put me right back to square one the next day and so I decided I better follow the advice to the letter.

The only thing I’m really struggling with doing now is reducing the walking. It’s so much ingrained in me. Having never really driven, my legs have always been the way I get around. I’d think nothing of a 45 minute walk to get somewhere and would prefer it to sitting in a car (whether as a passenger or driver) for 10 minutes. I see it as a very incidental type of exercise and one I enjoy. A walking pace allows you to see things you’d just never see from a car, maybe a new restaurant or café, a shop selling some strange wares, or a piece of art that hides round the corner that you’d never lay your eyes on. I’m hoping, probably rather crazily, that I can keep at least a moderate amount of walking up if I trade off everything else. It may well be the last thing keeping me sane in this period when I’m unable to do any other sort of exercise.

I’m tired of taking painkillers too. Yesterday was the first day I actually decided I’d take none and in all honesty it was one of my better days. I understand the theory that they reduce inflammation and allow me to operate my back as normal, but the truth is I feel the pain through the painkillers anyway so can’t at the moment see the point. I’ve never been one to take medicine unnecessarily. My thought has always been when I do need them they will have a significantly reduced effect if I’ve been using them for minor things.

One thing that does seem to have worked and filled a desire within me to exercise is the back exercises I was given. Who would have thought that I’d love doing planks? Certainly not me. They have gone from being one of my least favourite exercises at the gym to probably my favourite. I suppose they appeal to my competitive edge, me versus the clock, how long can I hold it for? And they seem to have loosened things up for me too. I certainly feel better and more flexible for doing them. Maybe I can be a planking Olympic champion? Although I’m not sure my current record of 90 seconds is going to put me in medal contention.

And so I carry on. Day after day I wake up, think it’s gone, only to turn round sharply and feel the twinge of pain in my back. Reason would tell me that this is just a temporary thing and I need to be patient. But when has patience ever been one of my virtues? I suppose the great thing about things like this, and there are always positives to every situation, is that it may well teach me patience, it’ll help me find enjoyment in other things and if it happens again I’ll know how to deal with it.
IJS 24/10/2016

Well our last day in Berlin. A 3/4 day at least. We had struggled the day before with trying to get into the Pergamon and after some thought between the three of us that morning we decided we might be wasting our time. Instead we decided to head to the Hanburger Bahndorf which is the home of the contemporary art museum. 

Before that though I had to go grab my last German coffee of our week long stay in the German capital. Our usual coffee shop, strangely called Lunch Time was closed. Being Sunday in Berlin poses all kinds of problems. The largest being very few shops are open. I found one a few hundred metres away called the Einstein cafe and as per the rest of Berlin, the assistant spoke fairly good English. This fact has surprised me all week, we never truly experienced any language difficulties at all. Through either pointing or speaking English everyone understood. It certainly makes for a good travel experience.

Three coffees delivered home and we were ready leave our abode and head out. Our first job was to drop off our bags at the local train station which has retained it giant lockers for travellers from a bygone era. Whether it was cheap or not 6 euros not to have to carry our suitcases around all day. In fact to say just the lockers were left over from a bygone era is probably wrong, the whole train station seems to be. But it has a charm in itself. 
To digress for just a second, when we came back later for our bags the supermarket there has a policy of only letting so many people in at once on a Sunday, I guess because of staffing. But it’s strange to see a security guard outside waving people in and out.
Our trip out to the contemporary art gallery was a nice walk along mainly the back streets of Berlin and we arrived at a very impressive building to be met with a medium queue. For all the stereotypes of German efficiency, this wasn’t very efficient with only one person serving a growing queue of people. 

The gallery itself was nice although we just popped in to a special exhibit by a Turkish artist depicting her time in Turkey, her repression and images of everyday life. I enjoyed it. 
With the third member of our party having to leave a few hours before us we headed to a cafe she’d been recommended called Mogg. Mogg was run by a couple of Americans and supposedly has one of the best Reuben sandwiches in Berlin. For those that don’t know a Reuben sandwich had layers and layers of Pastrami. I myself was starting to go easy on myself for the flight and had a pulled pork one instead but very delicious. I as I have everywhere had a beer in my attempt to find new ones. I reckon I’ve tried a new beer every time we’ve gone out which is pretty easy to do when your in a foreign country. 

Lunch over we headed to the train station to say farewell and then decided on our next course of action.

I knew how much Claire had wanted to see the Pergamon so I suggested that maybe we have a look at the queue and if it was good whiz round it in an hour. To our surprise there was no queue and we took the opportunity to have a quick look round. And we were glad we did. The museum, a bit like the Neues museum had built rooms to replicate ancient structures. In this one they had replicated the Ishtar gate and a gate from Ancient Greece. Both amazingly ornate and the Ishtar one in particular had such vivid colours it was a very good way on imagining what it might have been like. 

After our visit, we raced back to the railway station and caught a train/bus combo out to Tegel airport for our departing flight home. Me being the conservative I am at times pushed to make sure we got there early and of course we got there mega early. It highlights a bit of a difference in style between us and I think Claire would have liked to get there a little later.
Tegel like the railway station is another building that is quite outdated with tiny check in areas and security checks. It’s nice to know they are working on a new airport soon. The trip to Abu Dhabi was surprisingly quick but it definitely helped having a travel partner with me this time to entertain me.

Our three hours went relatively quick and then we hopped onto our next plane to Melbourne, knowing what laid in store. Moving to a new suburb on the day we returned. 

IJS

This morning after a very Australian breakfast in one of the local cafes, eggs, sausages and beans, we decided to all split up and do our own thing for the morning after a brief stop to drop the bikes off. Having seen a big sports store close to the drop off point and having wanted to look for a few days I took this as my opportunity to finally go in. I can’t decide whether I was disappointed or not. I came out with three items so irregardless it did serve a purpose. All very humdrum and not really worth mentioning what.

Afterwards I decided to do a bit of tourist shopping and a bit of research around where to put our bags tomorrow. It turned into a four hour walk. But it was fun, searching for a magnet of the victory tower for a mate, buying a present for Claire and generally trying to capture a few good shots of the city.

I stopped for a beer in one of the bars on the river. Asking for a radler because that was the only beer they had that I hadn’t had. Amazing eh? I’m starting to find German bars that I’ve now drunk all the beer at. The beer I ordered was a Radler, so whilst sitting there I did a bit of research and learnt that a Radler means cyclist in Germany, is a mix of lemonade and beer and was considered a refreshment for cyclists. I didn’t cycle but I thought I deserved one anyway.

After a short pop back to our apartment, we then left for the Pergamon museum. Unfortunately the queue was two hours long. However it’s on Museum Island with a range of other museums so we went to the Neues Museum instead. This museum holds a large amount of Egyptian Art, which took up over half of the museum. It was very eye opening but after a while it all seemed to fade into one. Claire and I had split up early on in the musuem like we do usually but I got to the point where I just wanted to find her. Her enthusiasm is a real pleasure to be around when looking round galleries and museums and she soon energised me to keep looking. It’s very much something we’ve done to feed off each other’s passions. Of particular note was Nefertiti’s bust and the Golden Hat which recorded the lunar eclipses.

One thing I did enjoy was the two courtyards they had there representing an Egyptian and Greek courtyard. It was nice to feel almost like stepping back in time and was the first museum I’ve ever been to that has done anything like this.

Afterwards we drifted out for dinner at Atame Tapas (another recommendation) and enjoyed a delightful meal for the three of us. A brief stop on the way back for another drink and that was our final night in Berlin.

IJS