Coromandel Calling

I have a great friend who truly understands the meaning of her birthday. For her, it's a time of celebrating with close friends and each year for the past few years a small group has been off to some wild and wacky places for an afternoon of great food and wine and lots of laughs.

This year it took a more leisurely turn. A whole weekend!! And not just a couple of nights in some small shack in some small backwater. Not for her special friends. We spent two fabulous nights in the beachfront home at Matarangi on the Coromandel Peninsula. Matarangi was one of the first "panned seaside developments" in New Zealand and you can see the developer's vision in the red covered roads and the tidy layout. Not so all the houses that have or have not been built. This development is a delightful mix of the Kiwi bach and million dollar homes sitting side by side in relative peace and harmony. There are still many of the prerequisite "sheds" on some properties and a fair scattering of 60's caravans still cover proposed building sites.

I confess to being a very errant Kiwi in that I haven't been to the Coromandel in more years than I care to remember and so, for me it was another adventure. Like so many other palces I have travelled around New Zealand, the scenery was breathtaking. As we hugged the shoreline driving up the coast from Thames I was in awe of the panorama that unfolded at each corner. What I was also grateful for was that there had been no concession to the amount of development on the peninsula. The road was still only two lanes with a lot of one-way bridge systems and the topography had been followed - not changed. Mind you, I wouldn't like to be in the stream of traffic trying to get to or from your holiday place during the high season.

We enjoyed a mix of weather of the weekend. Friday was gloriously fine and we felt sorry for all the people at work (not really). Saturday was overcast but didn't stop a very long foreshore walk and nosey around the many deserted properties (all within proper limits). Sunday morning - although grey - was still warming and leisurely as we packed up and headed for our various homes.

We all shared in the cooking - it was like our own mini 'Master Chef' with the range of culinary skills on show. The evenings were spent watching whatever took our fancy on TV while we gossiped away the hours. Nobody was spared the gossip rod!!!!

Saluting our Kiwi heritage of ingentuity we even came up with an inventive use for the many large cockle shells we found. Individual serving dishes for olives, dukkah and oil. Even great for holding sea salt and cracked pepper. Bet Cuisine magazine cracks onto that trend when they hear of it. Remember it came from here.

The drive back was just as delightful and I strongly recommend this part of our little heaven to everyone.

THE BEST.................this is getting monotonous - but it was the views AGAIN!!!!

THE WORST...............once again the roads need mentioning. More than ever I believe our forefathers were paid by the kilometre when they dug these roads. More twists and turns than a Stieg Larsson drama (there's another story). The ants also get a mention - they certainly love beach houses.

I AM LEARNING........not all grass is friendly. What look like innocent dead stretches of lawn are actually killer patches of small prickles (bindies for the Aussies). You don't know about until you are right in the thick of it - and no one has any shoes.

Tourist At Home

It's a funny thing when you are a tourist in your home town. At first you struggle to see what others might see because you are so familiar with your surroundings.

I found myself back in Auckland with a week to kill between social gatherings and decided to get some exercise. Staying in St Heliers the logical thing to do was to walk along the waterfront. Even better - it was a fine day in Auckland. A rarity the locals tell me. Auckland is blessed with a picturesque waterfront that spans the eastern foreshore of the city from downtown to the well established and very gentrified Eastern suburbs of Kohimarmara and St Heliers. My own hometown experience of the waterfront was at roughly 60kph trying to navigate the traffic snarl to and from the city. So, doing it on foot at a leisurely tourist pace was certainly a novelty.

As I mentioned earlier - I struggled at first to see it through new eyes. I had seen the houses over and over again throughout the years and nothing much changed. Probably because I tended to look in the same place. I knew the beaches and the shops. And I felt really strange with a camera in my own hometown. But then I let the camera take over and I saw the intrinsic beauty of some of the buildings I knew so well and I found flowers and shrubs that I hadn't even noticed before.

What hadn't changed - even with the help of the camera - was the 'village' connection in Auckland. Not two minutes into my walk I ran into someone I knew. That is a real Auckland phenomenon. A population of around 1.5 million and you still run into people you know. Kind of comforting really - makes you feel that you are still connected to your home town. If you haven't done it recently or you've never done it all - do yourself a favour and stroll along the waterfront. The views of the harbour, that rock that is Rangitoto, the birds, boys and babes on the beaches and the colours on a stunning Auckland day. You cannot replace it.

THE BEST.......the stunning photo ops that continued to unfold the further I walked.

THE WORST.....the bloody traffic getting in the way of otherwise unspoilt vistas or resplendent old buildings.

I'M LEARNNG.......there are a lot of people in Auckland with nothing to do. Mid week in November there were streams of people about. Many of whom I wanted to stop and ask why they weren't working. Then I suppose they could have asked the same of me.

A Hint of Summer

Yesterday dawned sunny, warm and looked very much like summer. After several weeks of false starts to this most special of all seasons I had a good feeling about the day. The fact that there were no clouds, no wind and the weather forecast predicted fine weather all indicated that this could be the day to venture into summer 'stuff'.

I took the plunge, did the household chores, visited the local school Crafts market and then decided that this was the day Jack and I would go to Ocean Beach. First time for both. Quite daunting really. For me - because I actually didn't know where I was going and, for Jack, because he was actually leaving the property.

You know how it is when you are going somewhere you haven't been before - it seems to take forever to get there. This was no exception. We wended our way through the rural countryside heading east because that's where the coast is and, presumably, the beach. Unlike other coastlines that I have lived on there was no real hint that the ocean was coming up. You know, things like seabirds, other cars with beach stuff hanging out of them or even the sea itself. All I saw was paddocks, paddocks and more paddocks. To make it a little more intimidating the roads were windy and, from my previous experience with Jack, its not a good idea to go too fast on windy roads. Takes forever to get that vomit smell from the car seats! But, my patience was rewarded and we came to the crest of a hill only to see the most magnificent shoreline below us. And I mean below us. You'd think I would have been thrilled to get there without getting lost and both of us in one piece. Well, there was one last obstacle. The road down to the beach. Narrow, winding and with no fencing on the outside. Furthermore descending cars had to give way to ascending cars. That was me!!! Came round a corner and there's a 4WD coming up the hill. Panic set in briefly but we all breathed in and we made it.

Unlike big city beaches parking was no problem. Jack, with his usual enthusiasm leaped out of the car and commenced dragging me toward the beach. It was funny to watch his reaction when he reached the sand - a sort of 'this weird but nice feeling' look. Not daunted he plunged on. I quickly read the sign about picking up doggy do-dos if they occurred and naturally, being unprepared, that's the first thing Jack decided he would do when he was in full view of the public. Let me tell you - not on my watch. It must have been quite a spectacle watching a woman hurriedly drag a dog down the beach while he was in the crouching, concentrating position. I won that argument and he didn't leave his calling card.

I took him to the water's edge - now that was a little scary for the wee boy. And for me! The water was freezing. We both put on a brave face and scooted back out of the small waves. Jack continued to smell EVERY footprint in the sand for the entire time we were on the beach but it was a great day. You just have to sit back and realize how lucky we are in New Zealand to have such pristine coast line available to everyone and enjoyed by all without any cost or inconvenience. After about an hour of sniffing his way along the extensive length of this beach we returned to the car. This time, in front of the crowd, he decided to whine and bark at the other dogs so, there I was again, dragging a dog kicking and yelling to the car. I am sure it's a sight a lot of the locals won't forget for a while.

On the way back home I stopped at The Trading Post. This quaint cafe, come furniture maker, come cowhide reseller made a truly great coffee. The woman running the cafe was really friendly and even got a bowl of water for Jack who was seriously panting at this stage. I would recommend her spot to any traveller to Ocean Beach. Beautiful hand made New Zealand furniture is the bonus to the creamy coffee and delectable snacks.

THE BEST...........The views, just the stunning vista from the hilltop. Ohh - and the great coffee at the Trading Post.

THE WORST.......Driving down the narrow steep road to the beach. Shades of a very frightening experience I once had in Queenstown when I was, in theory, going to drive to Bungy Jump at Skippers Canyon. The road was just as narrow and just as winding.

I AM LEARNING......People who made the roads in rural New Zealand were obviously bored with job so they put corners in just to keep themselves amused. Either that or they were paid by the kilometre.

Grieving for the Very Dearly Departed

I know that recent times have been tough for lots of people near to us and this may see trite but I, too, have had a recent death. And I am grieving. Here's the reason for my grieving. Stop laughing while I explain why I am devastated.

These shoes have been EVERYWHERE. I originally bought them for a world trip. They have walked the hallowed streets of Paris' fashion district, been into the most elegant of boutiques on Rodeo Drive and traipsed around the giant Boeing Hangars in Seattle. They are my travelling buddies. More recently they saw me through a walking tour of Tuscany. Two weeks on my feet day after day and, on most occasions they were with me. They have had the Catholic blessing at the Vatican and frollicked through Hyde Park in London on a carefree spring day. A not once did they give me any trouble. Many ladies out there will understand the inestimable value of a pair of comfortable shoes. Sure they got a little smelly on occasion and there was a time, not long ago, when I really thought they should be retired. But since coming to Hawke's Bay they have been at my service unstintingly through the good and the bad.

And to think they had to come to such an ignominious end. There I was relaxing in bed on a windy, cold Hawke's Bay "SPRING" morning. The dog, the perpetrator, was on the floor happily chewing away on his toy bone. Well so I thought. I simply looked down to check on the little darling and there were my shoes suffering a horrible death. The 'little darling' was sent to coventry and my mourning commenced. Jack knows that something is amiss but he doesn't fully comprehend the sorrow he has caused and the total frustration of having only one decent shoe. I think it has something to do with his sock fetish - there were a pair of socks tucked into the shoes. I think a psychologist may be needed - not sure who for though.

THE BEST........the unstinting loyalty of these wonderful shoes. The wonderful memories that no-one can ever take away, no matter how the end came about.

THE WORST......still having one around to remind me constantly of my loss.

I AM LEARNING.....to know that toys aren't the only thing Jack likes to chew - and that shoes may have feelings.

For the record - they were Supersoft Diana Ferrari casuals.

Parenting - Round 2

Finally the lure of SPCA was too much and, one sunny afternoon, I called in to see what was on offer. Hadn't decided whether I wanted a cat or dog. One's more responsibility than the other but also one is more companionship than the other too! Having been bitten by one of the cats in the shelter my mind was made up that it would be a dog. Bad luck cats - blame the agro one.

There wasn't anything suitable there but....the seed of obsession had been sown. I knew I wanted a dog, not a puppy, because I finished changing nappies years ago, if you get what I mean. So, along with my sister, we took ourselves to Napier SPCA. I wanted character, smaller, loving and mature. According to the Inspector at Napier there was nothing there for me - except a Jack Russell cross puppy around 6 months. Not really what I wanted but, well, a look wouldn't hurt would it?

I was gone on the first glimpse. Especially after my sister ran ahead and simply said that he was "The One". Hope she is as accurate when Mr Right comes along! And so, Jack entered my life. I decided I would overlook the toilet training issue - can't be that bad, after all I successfully got two kids out of nappies. Jack is one character of a dog. He is quite laid back and just loves to be where you are. He loves tummy rubs, lots of walks and cuddles.

My property is a challenge for both of us because he can easily get through the fencing - so for now he is on an exercise cable whenever he is outside. Although I would like to say he is intelligent I have never known a dog to get so tangled in a cable. He looks at the sheep next door in wide-eyed awe. Doesn't really want to be with them because they are all bigger than him and they don't make the right noises. Just can't figure out what planet they came from. He would like to take on the neighbouring dogs - that would be until he came up close to them. Inherently he is a coward but with a lot of bravado. He loves his "cousin" - Mustard - and she tolerates him. His best friend is his toy rope knot. He chews the hell out of it.

THE BEST..........the laughs I get when he does dumb things with such authority. Runs after a ball full pelt without looking at the wall rearing up ahead of him. Crash. And I especially love the dewy eyed looks he gives you.

THE WORST.....toilet training. God it never gets any easier. I bet I am the only person standing in the freezing cold, in my pyjmas, morning and evening waiting for the elusive pee or poop to happen. Gone are my sleep-ins for the next few years.

I AM LEARNING....not a lot really. Everyday I think I have his routine down pat and everyday I am proved otherwise. Not really a bonding experience.

Rethinking the Joys of Household Chores

When I was a city gal getting the household chores done meant ringing the cleaning lady and turning the appliances on. How things have changed!!! No cleaning lady for this rural outpost. Could probably have one but really can't justify one at present. As for turning on the appliances. Yes, you can do that but..... here's a couple of things to remember. Every time I use water the pump has to go on to get it from the storage tank. Electricity isn't cheap in the country. Have to make sure I am using a "low suds" washing powder so as not to overwhelm the septic tank. Can't use both dishwasher and washing machine at the same time - too much for the septic tank. Don't throw anything down the sink like cooking fats, or coffee grounds, or bleach, or..and the list goes on. Septic tank has little 'bacteria friends' that do good work and if it packs up then I pack up! As for watering - trying to collect as much as possible because, once again, the pump is used every time I want to use the hose. And the hose doesn't reach everywhere anyway. It's all a learning curve and I ave adapted pretty well. In an attempt to save electricity and use the beautiful weather we do have in HB I try to hand the washing outside to dry. I've learned to pick my days. When I was a kid my mother always sung the praises of wind dried washing. Bet she didn't try hanging it our or keeping it on the line in 80+kph winds. This photo taken on a normal windy day. Didn't lose any washing but that is a common occurence here.
Always a good idea to pack up any loose furniture when you know the "winds" are coming. Otherwise you'll find you are scouring the neighbourhood for yours, and others, belongings. Guess it's one way to meet your neighbours.

THE BEST.....Listening to the wind whistling around the house and knowing that you are safe an sound in your little haven
THE WORST....Rewashing stuff that gets marked by flying dust and dirt. Sounds like Little House on The Prairie.
I'M LEARNING....to love my pink gumboots. A girl has to have style - especially when I seem to live in these things at present. You want to see the matching pink gardening gloves!!!!!!

HIstory, Beauty and an Electric Fence

This was the weekend of the Central Hawkes Bay Festival and the weather gods did their good work - two glorious days of spring freshness and clarity that made everything look like the best polaroid picture you could imagine. I had the best intentions of mucking in with the locals at Waipukurau on Saturday but that wasn't to be - so I missed the main street festivities but I did get to Pukeora Estate - a one time sanitorium now working towards a more regal existence as a conference and accommodation venue. There is a LOT of work to do. The location is amazing and the photos here show the view from the hilltop on which Pukeora is located. The vineyards are those of the local brew Sanhill. There were about 90 stalls taking up all sorts of nooks and crannies throughout the maze of buildings sporting everything from homemade babies clothes to wine and gourmet delights. Something of a Farmers Market meets the local fair. It was interesting but not arresting.


What was truly great was the drive to and from the Festival. Ongaonga is a small township that has embraced its history and preserved some of yesteryear's architecture - including the renowned "thunderbox" - the outside loo. The local museum opens between 2-4pm on Sundays and is obviously operated by locals. I came past a little before opening time and found them sprucing the place up - not sure whether they were expecting hordes or not.

A little further down the round is Tikokino. Historical again and the source of some great 'red shed' examples for my upcoming collection. And the countryside was dotted with lots of lambs dutifully looking for a free feed from mum. The countryside at its best. Delightful.

THE BEST.......once again the grandeur of the landscape and the green, green grass of home.

THE WORST....old ladies at country fairs who think they can stand in the middle of corridors nattering about everything and anything and then get annoyed when you gently move them aside. God help me when I get there.

I'M LEARNING......when you are leaning on a fence and wonder why your arm is jerking uncontrollably, it's not the early signs of Parkinson's Disease, it's the fact you're leaning on an electric fence. No permanent damage done, I hope, but it did get down to my toes before I realised what was happening. Slow learner!

Weekend in Luxury

My slice of heaven is not the only magical place in Hawkes Bay. This is another. Chapelwick Coastal Estate. About 90 minute drive from my place this historical property, owned by Rod and Raewyn Sykes, is a very special Bed & Breakfast with a touch of country and old world elegance.

Not only can you find beautifully furnished rooms to relax in, there is also the billiards room, the swimming pool and tennis court and a myriad of farm animals to play with. When I was at Chapelwick recently there were two new little lambs learning the ropes at Chapelwick. Trixie and Russell were only a day old when they came to live at Chapelwick and, during my stay, I was on lamb feeding duty. The plaintive bleats could be heard as you left the kitchen with the hungrily awaited bottles of milk for the babies. All I can say is thank goodness I am not a mother sheep - those lambs are not gently when it comes to getting their bottle's worth of milk. And their wool is like a carpet that they are going to grow into. But just delightful even if they are going to end up on my dinner plate one day.

You can also say a close up hello to Red, Stripe and Spot - the young heifers and check that the "girls" (eight hens) have done their duty each morning for your freshly scrambled eggs. Not into animals? Then just enjoy the acres of beautiful gardens or have a close encounter with the Lord in the Hunter family Historical Chapel sitting proudly in the corner of the estate. If you want to find out more check out their website - www.chapelwick.co.nz

THE BEST....Dreaming of yesteryear as you gracefully walk up the ornate grand staircase to your suite

THE WORST.....Cuddling up with the cutest little lamb that, in all likelihood, you could be eating in a few months

I'M LEARNING....that you don't need a rooster to get eggs. They're way too noisy anyway.

Things Aren't What They Seem At First

It was another early morning experience that simply proves that I'm not yet rooted in the rural way. I have an amazing view outside my laundry door. I look out onto the farmlands next door. The laundry door is full glass and the boundary fence is about a metre from this door.

Without my glasses on I looked through the door and thought I saw a workman, dressed in overalls, bent over outside my laundry door That's what a city girl would think! Quick mental search didn't come up with a reason why that would be and so a closer look revealed it was a horse, with a cover on, backed onto the fence scratching his rear. Hmm, could explain wny I am still single. Can't tell the difference between a man and a horse.

I did laugh at myself and then went to introduce my self to my new "nay-bour". I call him Nosey because he turns up most mornings. He doesn't like silverbeet, he's not that keen on freshly dug up weeds but he LOVES carrots. I see him most mornings for a nod and a pat and I can happily report that I can tell him apart from his human counterparts.

THE BEST......the same beautiful view every morning

THE WORST.....not knowing the difference between a horse rear and a man's behind.


I'M LEARNING.....that horses are picky eaters.

Sunday Morning Visitors

Sunday mornings you take your time - a leisurely breakfast, hot coffee and the paper. It's sacrosanct in my house. So, when unexpected visitors turn up they have to have a good reason to disturb this "my time". These visitors not only had no reason to visit - they shocked the hell out of me.

There I was quietly sitting at the dining table enjoying the paper when I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye. Looking up I was confronted by one of the largest sheep I have ever seen, dutifully followed by her two cute little baby lambs. What to do? I did what all good city girls would do - I rang my sister. When she had stopped laughing she suggested that I shoo them back through the fence before they found my precious vege garden. So, I gingerly went outside to have a chat with my new visitors (still in my pyjamas of course) and that started the brisk walk around the house. While on the march I could see no hole large enough to get this 'super-mother' back to the pastures so I retreated to the house for a think-tank and to dress more appropriately.

Coming out, I donned my pink and black gumboots (I meant business) and confronted the group on the edge of my garden. Because she wandered towards me when I spoke to her, I guessed she was a pet of some type, and so we all leisurely walked back down the driveway until I was convinced she was on her way.

Well, I haven't seen her since and I didn't see her or the babies as roadkill when I went out later that day. I figure that all's well that ends well. For me anyway.

THE BEST....the smile on the face of the little babies as they hurried after the mobile milk machine

THE WORST.....not knowingwhat happened afer they wandered down the driveway

I AM LEARNING.....to expect anything to visit on a Sunday morning.

My Slice of Heaven

I saw it Day Two of my arrival into 'The Bay'. I was no hurry to buy but very happy to start looking. By chance we went to the small hamlet of Maraekakaho (about 15 minutes south west of Hastings) because I had seen this cute house on the web and was keen to know where it was. And there it was - the cutest house sitting proudly on the small hillock overlooking pastureland. Ran into an estate agent who already had two other listings in the same and arranged inspection of all three that same week. Saw the house again on Day Four - loved it! Came back for a further look later that week - loved it even more! Put an offer in the following week and, by week's end, a contract was in place. So much for taking my time. But, honestly, I couldn't have written the property description better. It was advertised as a "Rural Retreat" and it lives up to its name. Nicely nestled at the end of a shared driveway the property boasts a gorgeous modern, clean lined home with a great outdoor entertaining area, a little vege garden, two car garaging, a petanque court and my own mini olive grove. There are neighbours around but not in your face. Perfect. So, now every morning I wake up to the view of pastures, hills and utter tranquility.

THE BEST.......Space, space, space

THE WORST.........Melting the soles of my slippers. Ditzy city girl didn't realize that the top of a woodburner stove can be used to cook on. Not the best place to put your rubber based slippers to dry. Not only that - the suede tops were still damp.

I'M LEARNING......to recycle almost everything. From no recycling to recycling fanatic. That's what lack of a rubbish collection service does to you.

Country Living Here We Come

Be Careful What You Wish For

When times were tough in corporate life I would sometimes say "give me the chance to leave and I'll head for the country". Well, little did I know that would come true sooner than I thought.

Am I sorry - absolutely not! But...did I know what "going country" might mean for a girl who has lived her whole life in big cities? Probably not - and so the adventures begin.
July saw me heading to the relatively small town of Hastings - outskirts Hastings to be exact. To my sister's vineyard. I fell in love with this part of New Zealand when my sister and her family moved here about eight years ago. Imagine looking out the kitchen window (any window for that matter) and all you see is grapevines and green pastures. Here was where I was going to retire. Here was where I was going to indulge my passion for good wine, good food, and great photography. Well, here was now except retirement wasn't on the agenda.

July is probably not the best time to experience rural Hastings - especially when your last port of call was Brisbane. I went from 20deg to 8deg and had to think of a whole new wardrobe. Flashbacks of New Zealand as a child - freezing cold mornings, ice on the windscreens, washing that wouldn't dry in the cold weather and foggy mornings. I went from inner city apartment living in a very temperate climate to a farmhouse in a "know-you-are-alive" climate. Phew. Bracing is the word the locals use for "bloody cold". But the sunrises, sunsets and clear skies can't be beaten.

THE BEST.....Not being ruled by the clock but rather by nature.

THE WORST.....Can't read in bed because it's too cold to have any flesh above the covers.

I'M LEARNING....A girl doesn't need a wardrobe of shoes.