tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39728911739470912192024-03-05T06:49:56.631-08:00Two and a half travellersAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-73711024177598994162013-06-02T20:55:00.001-07:002013-06-02T20:55:56.644-07:00That little update I promisedNestled in the ultra suburban hills of Orange County, where going to work, school and the play park, and wondering what to cook for dinner have become our new every day norm, it seems hard to believe that it was only a year ago that our travel adventure was drawing to a close.<br />
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We've been in Southern California for eight months now; we've rented a house, which has slowly become a home, Mr T heads off to work in an office (or just as often jumps on a plane to one far more distant office or another), the littlest Hobo spends her mornings at pre-school, and her afternoons running through sprinklers and riding bikes with the little group of friends that she has made, and I am slowly, but surely, turning that dream of a photography business into a reality. We have a garden with orange, lemon, grapefruit, apple, fig and guava trees and plenty of space for little legs to run around. All in all, it's pretty good in this palm tree framed, hummingbird filled life.<br />
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We spend almost every day under the sun in what feels like a perpetual summer; the climate here is better than I have experienced anywhere else, we've become regulars at Disneyland, and we have a plethora of beautiful beaches to explore, right on our doorstep. California offers an interesting and diverse landscape - the stunning coastline, the sandy canyons and a constant backdrop of mountains holding it aside from the rest of the country beyond. It's much more than I had ever imagined it to be, breathtakingly picturesque.<br />
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I experienced my first earthquake a couple of months ago - sitting in my office working away when suddenly the house started shaking and I felt like I was riding a wave - the other one and a half travellers didn't feel it - just a few miles away, each respectively in their office and pre-school, better built to handle these local natural phenomena than our house clearly is. It was scary and exciting at the same time, and I find myself wanting to feel another so that I can spend less time wondering what is going on and more time committing the experience to memory, while at the same time I fear that if another comes it could be much worse than the little 5.8 Richter, 60 miles away shimmy shake.<br />
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For a long time, we were wearied by travel, and apart from the necessary (work, and back to the UK for Christmas and a certain big birthday celebration) we didn't go anywhere much. I haven't been on a plane since early January, and that feels like forever! But recently the itchy feet have reappeared, and over the last month or so we've ventured up and down the coast to explore our new surroundings slightly further afield. We're enjoying a day or two here and there, but are also loving the feeling of having a base to return to - especially the littlest Hobo, who loves her bedroom, her 'stuff' and her routine.<br />
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Hotel chez twonahalf is back up and running, with our first friend having visited a couple of months back, our niece just left after a month here and we have a steady stream of friends and family booked in for the rest of the year - I love these opportunities to spend far more 'real' time with these people than we ever get when we dash around from one social engagement to another on a visit home.<br />
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We're as settled as you can expect to be after eight months - years of re-locating has taught me that. I'm experiencing a horrible wave of homesickness at the moment - but I know that it's normal at this stage, and besides I can't tell you where I'm homesick for anymore - South East England, Sydney, Washington DC, or our wandering existence of 2011/2012. Some places have much more visual (and meteorological) appeal than others, but ultimately it's the people, and if I could collect up all my favourites from around the world and pull them close, wherever that may be, life could be somewhere near perfect. In the meantime, I'm just keeping up the chant of 'this too shall pass' and making the most of my surroundings.<br />
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There's a good chance that some of the tears that are falling so freely over distant friends and family at the moment might be at least partly hormone driven too - we are excited to be expecting a baby boy in November. Who knows how that would work word-wise; two and two halves doesn't really roll off the tongue, and the littlest Hobo will no longer be the littlest, so I guess it's just as well that our current life is too boring to warrant many regular updates!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-78284314836236652872012-09-26T04:52:00.001-07:002012-09-26T04:52:37.294-07:00The next chapterAfter a three week trip to the uk we've just landed in California; this arrival marks the beginning of a new chapter for two and a half travellers. We're not so much hanging up our travelling boots as shifting into a more cruisy travel gear - we've opted for a return to corporate life for Mr Traveller, an opportunity for me to get my photography business off the ground, and a whole new beautiful land and seascape, which had always been high on our list of places to explore, to enjoy as our back garden, and weekend playground.<br />
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We've no regrets of the year(ish) we took to see some more of the world; we gave our daughter the gift of two parents undivided attention during an extremely formative year of her life, moments with dear old friends and family who would otherwise have been at best mere faces on a webcam, and at worst complete strangers, and a flexible attitude where she just rolls with whatever our current situation is. People always ask whether she'll have any memory of the past year - I'm fairly sure that without our prompts she wouldn't remember a thing, but she will never lose the knowledge that she's gained en route, and to her the world will always be a small place. <br />
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We've been on an emotional journey, losing my gran shook the very core of our little unit, but without our year of travel, I wouldn't have been there to hold her hand. We've had time to examine ourselves and our relationships, becoming more self aware. I've chilled out and relaxed a bit, and although he'd probably hate to admit it, Mr T has become somewhat more routine! <br />
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I can honestly say that we loved everywhere we visited, we didn't find anywhere we disliked. From the unique culture of Spain's San Sebastian, to the quaint fishing villages of Cornwall, from Korean spas and hospitality, to Ireland's rolling emerald patchwork quilt to each and every tiny nook of New Zealand which we explored in intimate detail. Above all my expectations, over a painfully humid summer in DC we made the sort of friendships that usually take years to build, and huge wet tears rolled down both the littlest hobos and my own cheeks when we said goodbye - this was a valuable lesson in life for me, which will put me in good stead for building future friendships as well as reminding me just how much a three year old understands. <br />
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But we grew weary of bed hopping, and of packing and unpacking our cases (my unpack limit always used to be four days, now it's a week), and cramming our cases into small cars in an intricate and finely tuned arrangement. The littlest hobo is craving time with longer term friends, and we think she'd benefit from an environment where we have a little more guaranteed control - bring on the broccoli! As much as I will miss the perpetual summer, we're exhausted from visiting, bored of eating out, and found ourselves craving the plane ride for some down-time, so it's time to shift the pace of our exploration of this wonderful world.<br />
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We headed off with a set of challenges which perplexed us; the biggest of all being a sickly daughter, as well as a lot of dreams, and not a clue where our next pennies would come from. We've finished our trip with a thriving, healthy three year old, a new set of challenges, a renewed vigor for the life ahead of us, and a whole heap of wonderful memories.<br />
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I feel so lucky to have had the opportunities we had, and excited (and maybe a little nervous, but that's a good thing) at the prospect of what lies ahead. I'm looking forward to sharing some of our coming adventures, but this real housewife in Orange County is signing off for now.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-91635580896682521322012-05-19T03:27:00.000-07:002012-05-19T03:27:23.330-07:00Reliving a few NZ highlights in RotoruaAfter three months in the country, we leave New Zealand in a couple of days. We're spending the last ten days with our dear friends in Auckland, but they need to carry on with their every day lives during the week, and as we all know, visitors, like fish, have usually gone off by the four day mark, so we decided that a little side trip was in order to avoid the risk of that being the case.<br />
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We had a think over some of our favourite places and activities in New Zealand. One of the highlights for us all, which I have still to write much about, was Queenstown - we had the most amazing time there with so many great things to do and so many stunning and beautiful places around it, I could easily have stayed for a month, if not longer. We looked into flights, but the cost was extortionate, so we had another think and decided to head back down to Rotorua. It's approximately a three hour drive from Auckland and has some of our favourite activities on offer, not to mention the geothermal heating being most welcome now that the first sight of winter is sweeping it's way across the country. It's a big tourist destination so there are a plethora of hotels, which means some great offers at this time of year too.<br />
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We kicked off our 48 hours with a return trip to <a href="http://www.polynesianspa.co.nz/" target="_blank">Polynesian Spa</a> - we didn't even pause to check in at our hotel before heading there. New Zealand is a veritable playground of hot bubbly pools and Polynesian is undoubtedly the top of the crop (more on that another day...). After we'd soaked ourselves sufficiently we headed to our hotel, which, like many in Rotorua also has it's own spa and geothermally heated swimming pool. With the huge playground a mere hop, skip and a jump away it would have been rude not to partake in a little swinging and climbing while we watched the sun set over the lake. The shivering temperatures that the dark brought made the final decision (and of course the most healthy decision too) not to schlep all the way across town for a third dip (ever, not in one day!) at the most delicious Holiday Inn buffet an easy one.<br />
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On Thursday morning I awoke to discover that the sore throat I had been trying to beat off the last few days had taken hold, so instead of the action packed day we had planned, I rested in the room while Mr T took the Littlest Hobo for a swim and a play in the park then I wandered into town and replaced her lost coat so that we could brave the icy temperatures and experience the other good reason for being in this particular spot this evening: <a href="http://rotoruanightmarket.co.nz/index.php" target="_blank">The Rotorua Night Market</a>.<br />
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Every Thursday evening a section of the street in the centre of town is closed off to traffic and a selection of stalls take over the area. I'd heard about it a couple of times and was disappointed that we'd managed to miss it by one day when we were here last time. We rugged up and headed down there just after the sun dipped beyond the horizon and enjoyed the vibrant atmosphere and live music while we feasted on a variety of yummy offerings. There's something I love about being out in the dark, with the lights twinkling, rugged up against the cold air and being warmed from the inside with tasty treats accompanied by the soundtrack of live music and general hustle and bustle. I can't help but smile.<br />
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Friday morning brought a healthier day, so before heading back up to Auckland we headed for a final dip in the Polynesian Spa then off to the <a href="http://www.skyline.co.nz/" target="_blank">Skyline Gondola and Luge</a>. Queenstown boasts the same attraction, and when we were there, after riding the Gondola up a remarkably steep mountain and admiring the breathtaking views we'd spent about 15 minutes or so debating whether or not it was a good idea to take a two year old on the luge. In the end the inner child in each of us won, and we bit the bullet and went for it - we were not to be disappointed. The luge is the ultimate adrenalin fix for wimps like me as you can control the speed at which you travel. Mr T took the Littlest Hobo on his cart and I flew solo, surprising myself by whipping ahead, yelling with delight around each corner and emerging at the end with a grin on my face surpassed only marginally by the one that adorned my daughters face when she followed me a few seconds later. So you see, we needed to do it again! While the view from the top of the Skyline is less impressive in Rotorua (it's still lovely though), the luge is far superior, lasting much longer and the track seemed more hair raising too. My poor daughter had me squealing in her ear all the way from the top to the bottom!<br />
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Although we still have a few days left, Rotorua was the perfect choice to occupy a portion of our last week in New Zealand. There's plenty to do, while at the same time being relaxing, Rotorua offers a little bit of luxury, while at the same time being child friendly, and there's plenty of natures wonders to marvel at, from the bubbling mud and the huge geysers to serene lake against a backdrop of mountains.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com6Rotorua, New Zealand-38.1368478 176.2497461-38.3366778 175.93388910000002 -37.9370178 176.5656031tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-48794005168845504952012-05-08T03:54:00.002-07:002012-05-08T04:24:09.599-07:00Beautiful souls<br />
It’s so easy to take friends for granted when they’re just around the corner and you can see them whenever you want. Moving countries for the first time, when we moved to Washington DC a few years ago, really brought home how important my friends were. I also learnt the value of putting the effort in to make new friends in our new home. Then we repeated the exercise when we moved to Sydney, only this time I had two sets of long distance buddies to keep up with, while at the same time finding a new set of friends.<br />
When we left Sydney for the UK last year, we were going back to old friends, slipping back into a comfortable familiarity with a warming ease. I love the way with old friends, we are always there for each other when we need to be, no matter how much time has passed since we last saw each other, or even spoke.<br />
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But then we hit the road, and it was suddenly just us. I’m so grateful for the opportunity that we have at the moment to spend so much time as a family, and all the benefits that that brings, but I miss my friends. Some days I have a hankering to go for a coffee, to roll my eyes and dramatically sigh ’Men!’ or to compare with my mummy friends the Littlest Hobos latest habit and feel reassured that it’s completely normal at that age and won’t automatically be qualifying her as a teen delinquent or something worse.<br />
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When we left the UK in January, the same friends who had left us in charge of their home while they were away on holiday six months previously, offered to sell our car for us, giving us the opportunity to use it right up until the last day. It was such a kind gesture and I was touched that they gave up their valuable weekends to do it.<br />
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A couple of weeks ago a close friend in Sydney, whose daughter is the same age as the Littlest Hobo gave birth to her second daughter. I was delighted to hear the news, but I know I would have felt the pain of distance if it hadn’t been for a constant flow of texts and emails in the couple of days following, I’m still sad that I’m missing out on those newborn snuggles, but I’m sure that being able to ‘chat’ was the next best thing to actually being there.<br />
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Over Easter, some friends came down from Auckland to meet us for a week, bringing with them a collection of thoughtfully put together toys as a refreshing change for the Littlest Hobo from the small selection that we are carrying with us. A couple of weeks later we spent two days at their house in Auckland, where we’ve stayed several times on previous visits to New Zealand, and I relished in the ‘coming home’ feeling that flooded the car as we drove up their driveway. We’re heading back there at the weekend, and I’m really looking forward to it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was great to catch up with old friends a few weeks ago</td></tr>
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I got an email today from a friend who was reminded of me when she walked into somewhere we used to go together… it made me a bit misty eyed, and it also made my day. I’ve got a few friends, spread over the three continents we’ve lived on, who make sure we stay in email contact, no matter how long it goes before they get a response, and two friends in particular who, like our families, have stuck with us through the not quite as advertised internet connections that we keep coming up against to check in on skype regularly - I love these chats, there’s something about the beauty of actually being able to see each other, seeing them in familiar surroundings, that is incredibly comforting. I love the normality of pauses to stop the baby eating the computer cable, or to grab a glass of wine, and the chatter of every day life.<br />
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What’s the point of this post? I’ve asked myself that several times… I suppose I just wanted to say thank you - to so many gorgeous souls whose everyday gestures, great and small, make our lives a bit easier, or remind us that they’re all still there, and in their own way make this trip a little bit more possible. I always say travel is about the people you meet along the way, but for me, it wouldn't be possible without the people who aren't right there right then too.<br />
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I’m so glad that we‘re doing this trip now, and not several years previously; I’m not sure that I would have managed to travel for so long without the tiny modern day wonders which have become part of our every day lives and ultimately, keep us in touch.<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-36980898102145153402012-05-02T22:50:00.000-07:002012-05-02T22:50:18.082-07:00The sun always shines on HobbitonNestled amongst the rolling hills of Waikato, near the small town of Matamata, sits the pristine setting that Peter Jackson made famous when he used it as the setting for Hobbiton in his Lord of the Rings trilogy. As we were heading there last Friday, through the heaviest rain that we have experienced since arriving in New Zealand, we questioned our sanity, and had we not already made arrangements to be there, we may well have turned the car around and headed for somewhere indoors and dry. But having spent the last two and a half months coming around corners to announce ‘that is so Lord of the Rings’ and constantly humming the theme tune, we were compelled to achieve a real LOTR experience, so we pressed on, and as we came over the hill and <a href="http://www.hobbitontours.com/" target="_blank">Hobbit Movie Set and Farm Tours</a> base camp came into view, the stair rods parted and the rumbling grey sky looked somehow less threatening.<br />
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We booked in for our tour and then headed upstairs to the Shires Rest café for a lamb burger to sate our appetite. The Shires Rest serves tasty food in a somewhat bland environment, so discovering that they are currently developing the Green Dragon Inn from an on-set façade into an all singing, all dancing pub and venue was music to my ears.<br />
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Hobbiton is set on a working farm with approximately 14000 sheep and a few hundred black angus cattle; as we waited for the bus to arrive to take us on the short journey over the hills into Hobbiton valley, we watched cows being herded and petted the four tiny lambs who were doing a good job of commanding visitors attention just by looking cute, and scoring top marks from our little hobbit.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All together now 'ahhhhhhhh'</td></tr>
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The bus appeared, and Danny, our tour guide, started his spiel as we headed through a couple of gates and into the picture perfect valley. Looking around, it was immediately evident why Peter Jackson had chosen this site as he scoured the countryside from the air. Not only was it hidden from any sign of modern day life, but it held a magical, timeless quality which screamed of everything you would expect of ’The Shire’ of Tolkien’s Middle Earth.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Over the hill and far away - it's hard to believe that Hobbiton is just over the hill</td></tr>
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Jumping down the steps of the bus, I noticed that each and every hobbit hole in view was bathed in a sunny glow, and only one or two fluffy white clouds adorned the bright blue above us - a far stretch from the sky that had frowned down menacingly just an hour earlier. As we walked around the set, marvelling at every tiny detail from the miniature tools to the pint sized washing lines, Danny explained the reasoning behind the wide variety of hobbit hole sizes - those which would feature in a shot with Gandalf were smaller, to make him appear bigger, whereas others were bigger, to make the Hobbits appear smaller. I was astounded by each minute detail - the lichen on the fences was man made, as was the tree that sits above Bilbo Baggins house at the top of the hill - the Littlest Hobo took great pleasure in the souvenir fake leaf that Danny handed to her as we headed back down the hill. I suspect that her miniature stature and, curly haired-ness gave her extra kudos in Hobbiton, even without furry flippers.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxHa2_vqgr_g_ByAn5E1LTrJ9tpvevdPjIb-H2LTEg8wKUvWWtZJLygtZ8uIpnPwRjmMhrLDlH6_jNmq5M0YW9gMsYJJYzVe5w5MAY-WMIM9tKdPbiQcq_prT6qtEo7iL0J6jZHuKhZ8/s1600/1-IMG_1804.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDxHa2_vqgr_g_ByAn5E1LTrJ9tpvevdPjIb-H2LTEg8wKUvWWtZJLygtZ8uIpnPwRjmMhrLDlH6_jNmq5M0YW9gMsYJJYzVe5w5MAY-WMIM9tKdPbiQcq_prT6qtEo7iL0J6jZHuKhZ8/s400/1-IMG_1804.JPG" width="255" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mummy, is this our new holiday house?<br /></td></tr>
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We worked our away around the set, posing in the miniature doorways for photographs as Danny told stories from filming and explained how everything worked. We were asked not to touch the props, and most of the hobbit hole doors stayed firmly shut, but there were one or two which we were allowed to open - although there wasn’t much to see on the other side (as the inside filming took place down in Wellington), it was good fun to pose as if you were just emerging from your hobbit mansion.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqS0jd593rhsfljwO5LnhUvSTMxxxwc9V1MP21O3R_sjQkegX1uhlCUDhHCm6ByfnSm0s3VppwrgZB3SvsROhM40U_2OXrHnE5F0NUlkFZ0qSfR6Zlk0upRbeewReO9RhkVXVbMCoFUo/s1600/1-IMG_1847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlqS0jd593rhsfljwO5LnhUvSTMxxxwc9V1MP21O3R_sjQkegX1uhlCUDhHCm6ByfnSm0s3VppwrgZB3SvsROhM40U_2OXrHnE5F0NUlkFZ0qSfR6Zlk0upRbeewReO9RhkVXVbMCoFUo/s400/1-IMG_1847.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bilbo Baggins hobbit hole - a veritable mansion at the top of the hill, looking down over the rest of Hobbiton</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello?</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_XNgAdxUQoSjkPT-d83d0oi5ekPO3F9lBh7-6_v26GbIX51Iabfv1jhb4Ql3r_q2I8d54ZHmUJ9ujeRIRJXvyggFwIJ9qXBxnTn1u9qzlTgpF0Lk5d-Ltl-KSQCVpKBWCesJFHd2F2k/s1600/1-IMG_1865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_XNgAdxUQoSjkPT-d83d0oi5ekPO3F9lBh7-6_v26GbIX51Iabfv1jhb4Ql3r_q2I8d54ZHmUJ9ujeRIRJXvyggFwIJ9qXBxnTn1u9qzlTgpF0Lk5d-Ltl-KSQCVpKBWCesJFHd2F2k/s400/1-IMG_1865.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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The coming year has to be the time to visit the Hobbiton movie set - not only has it been permanently rebuilt for the recent filming of The Hobbit trilogy (they were partially deconstructed after the initial trilogy was filmed, save seventeen hobbit holes which were rescued by a big storm which came through and halted deconstruction - this time they’re here for good), but the embargo has also been lifted, so you are free to take photographs too. I’m sure the completion of the Green Dragon will just be the icing on the cake. For now, we just settled for feeding the baby lambs with bottles as we basked in the bright sunshine when we returned to base camp, which wasn’t a half bad ending to our trip to Hobbiton at all.<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com4Matamata, New Zealand-37.8108803 175.7764607-37.9112393 175.6185322 -37.7105213 175.9343892tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-70483117585783324272012-04-23T04:14:00.000-07:002012-04-23T04:35:19.258-07:00Feeding wild stingray on the Eastern Cape<br />
I can’t take any credit for this one - I usually do my research and work out what there is to see and do in an area, but ultimately we were in Gisborne to meet up with friends and have a few days of bach time - relaxing and enjoying good food and wine while taking advantage of the ocean on our back door step. I gave the guide book a quick once over and didn’t even google what there was to see and do in the area, so when our friends asked us if we would like to feed stingray, it sounded like an excellent idea!<br />
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We headed over to <a href="http://www.divetatapouri.com/" target="_blank">Dive Tatapouri</a>, which is located on the edge of a shallow reef which sits immediately off the shore, on the beautiful Eastern Cape coastline. It was only a few minutes from our bach and approximately fifteen minutes from the centre of Gisborne. When we arrived, the adults and older child (age six) were kitted out with some rather fetching waders and long bamboo sticks, before being given instructions and a safety briefing. They told us about the rays we would likely see - the resident short-tail stingray and the much larger eagle rays who live further out at sea, but come in for feeding, given it is a regular occurrence. They showed us how to use our bamboo poles to create a fence to protect ourselves, should we need too (eek!). They also warned us about the kingfish, who it seemed were also rather partial to the bait we would be feeding to the rays, and rather quicker in the water.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizM7ZA0bRJap2xXYS2_YygUlrsV8YaY9P0yoCmHThUietbexeUIK8Fj7kTgo35TSIVK_yd2w-RqhE-e9Hxa6Df5-lt1wB-D1kK0IfGrHlJBteqfl6ajpkj6WPjXU9fQdsqWXhbAgWLDIU/s1600/apr+031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizM7ZA0bRJap2xXYS2_YygUlrsV8YaY9P0yoCmHThUietbexeUIK8Fj7kTgo35TSIVK_yd2w-RqhE-e9Hxa6Df5-lt1wB-D1kK0IfGrHlJBteqfl6ajpkj6WPjXU9fQdsqWXhbAgWLDIU/s400/apr+031.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't you wish your family was hot like us!</td></tr>
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Then the kids were set astride a giant banana boat, which our guide hauled behind him on a rope while the rest of us (probably about 12 people in our group, excluding our three little ones) followed across the reef in single file. Having never worn waders before, walking through the water in them was a novel experience, with a constant sense of foreboding every time you stepped into a patch of water any deeper than the top of the welly boot bit, although I needn’t have worried as my feet stayed perfectly dry for the duration. The bamboo sticks proved an absolute necessity within seconds of being in the water- for testing the depth of the water ahead (mainly as our supposedly single file line suddenly resembled more of a web, almost as soon as we hit the wet stuff) and secondly for keeping us upright as we waded over the slippery rocks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoguIlU-wr87lQJ9hqZZDUIg3TSjYwtGQGlCLFtl1iKpFjhaMNlFVrw-4AnuR2fTDlNY_EN4FPun2dU7hlFabv4dbhAQarKhwhnReGoWN0ZyiAfuJU3s6Q53R8MORS62kCXA1u3tWsF0/s1600/apr+035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzoguIlU-wr87lQJ9hqZZDUIg3TSjYwtGQGlCLFtl1iKpFjhaMNlFVrw-4AnuR2fTDlNY_EN4FPun2dU7hlFabv4dbhAQarKhwhnReGoWN0ZyiAfuJU3s6Q53R8MORS62kCXA1u3tWsF0/s400/apr+035.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Walking across the reef in a single file line, ahem....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ewex5aF9nfHIbmZW212hby3JwDogLrs4ExBY8Qq9FpuQO1iv6XtUZtr_tuoKlirXybmFudwOY8bNUACZgMd-nPNzipZL_UPLF91yonvBICiu-ThpwQUtcSgK5sejnbVFrvUfoQys0yA/s1600/apr+042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5ewex5aF9nfHIbmZW212hby3JwDogLrs4ExBY8Qq9FpuQO1iv6XtUZtr_tuoKlirXybmFudwOY8bNUACZgMd-nPNzipZL_UPLF91yonvBICiu-ThpwQUtcSgK5sejnbVFrvUfoQys0yA/s400/apr+042.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kids on the banana boat - they were all from our group - there were some older kids on our tour too who walked across</td></tr>
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We stopped at the far side of the reef and stood on a rock in a couple of inches of water, while the guide stood in front of us and shook his bait pot in the water. It didn’t take long for the short-tail stingrays to appear, along with the enthusiastic kingfish. Our children were still bobbing on their banana boat a few metres in front of us, and watching their little faces light up as they spotted and recognised the marine life appear around them was a magical moment.<br />
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Our guide handed out bait and we took it in turns to bend down and feed it to the stingrays. It was a tricky manoeuvre, bending forward while balancing on the rock, holding the bait so that the stingrays could sweep over your hand to reach the bait with their mouths below, all while avoiding a nip from the eager jaws of the waiting kingfish. I was cautious at first, especially after the boy standing next to me wasn’t so lucky and the kingfish managed to swoop in over the stingray and give him a nasty nip as it whipped the bait from his hand. The speed that kingfish moved will most likely ensure he never ends up as sashimi.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIR8iez0YjGNUvGDQBvsp4FWahCUP_-_xYQbDbFa55HE8_a99f-LfZMTWftLNT6ZmYNhMXjm38Ipi-4CgvpD4g1w8wllIi9O3heVKqvoR2e2DDrVVm3xwveNfh5YiRQu65z3XoBbm5TWc/s1600/apr+059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIR8iez0YjGNUvGDQBvsp4FWahCUP_-_xYQbDbFa55HE8_a99f-LfZMTWftLNT6ZmYNhMXjm38Ipi-4CgvpD4g1w8wllIi9O3heVKqvoR2e2DDrVVm3xwveNfh5YiRQu65z3XoBbm5TWc/s400/apr+059.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The eagle ray weren't shy with our guide!</td></tr>
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Touching and feeding the wild stingray was a unique tactile experience - they had a slightly slimy, vaguely bumpy cartilage feel to them, and as the bait is sucked up out of your hand it could only really be likened to a run in with a low powered Dyson.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJGaM4AdKu6Lgnhxipu-zjCAPurrkviPdgPmW_Af0wY5B4JXWuycHLPJnY_ee3EwyeNDRppyZY_rUVye8SCXBcw0rWO2Dueb9DIgpORufIbmWwKLFGkWDAsj0GkQ-jMXRZmJqA6ridmM/s1600/apr+084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJGaM4AdKu6Lgnhxipu-zjCAPurrkviPdgPmW_Af0wY5B4JXWuycHLPJnY_ee3EwyeNDRppyZY_rUVye8SCXBcw0rWO2Dueb9DIgpORufIbmWwKLFGkWDAsj0GkQ-jMXRZmJqA6ridmM/s400/apr+084.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ray's mouth is really far back - look how far it went up his arm! </td></tr>
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When the little kids tired of being on the boat (it took a surprisingly long time) they were brought onto the rock with us and touched the rays too. We’d been out on the water for around 90 minutes, but all too soon we were making our way back to shore and it felt like we’d been out there for just minutes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bkahgzZXAYXzF6E3m39GULLaIp9Vjf0STbuDIp3Lu8QAOyOr0JOdbCUNxgHF1aXhSPgLzrfrx9zXDNj-3OYxFCfYw8ZWCC4E6ml2hOF9oy5hImVFcIAWHUjlENr1S5XPWh7X5BbwI2Y/s1600/apr+063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bkahgzZXAYXzF6E3m39GULLaIp9Vjf0STbuDIp3Lu8QAOyOr0JOdbCUNxgHF1aXhSPgLzrfrx9zXDNj-3OYxFCfYw8ZWCC4E6ml2hOF9oy5hImVFcIAWHUjlENr1S5XPWh7X5BbwI2Y/s400/apr+063.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The guide placed bait in the end of his bamboo pole to encourage the rays to come to where we could feed them</td></tr>
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I’ve seen and touched rays in aquariums a few times, but feeding them in the wild was different - this is one of my favourite things about New Zealand - we have been presented with so many opportunities to see wildlife which we may be able to see in zoos or aquariums elsewhere, but here we can see them in their natural environment; no bars or glass between us and them, little or no stress on the creatures involved, and often we can get much closer than we would be able to in captivity.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm2tuUeybcNu7pkmS-SXfbSJXen_jXv-AE2PJY361wKg0nT1qMXRLsbRoz0pE9Tddi9y3tAb0vpQ4iij43qZCi9195_biz38jDEzIRAnaHTHt-bAJtKV2zz0F7GvtylkYyyyI_GI90VA/s1600/apr+086.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm2tuUeybcNu7pkmS-SXfbSJXen_jXv-AE2PJY361wKg0nT1qMXRLsbRoz0pE9Tddi9y3tAb0vpQ4iij43qZCi9195_biz38jDEzIRAnaHTHt-bAJtKV2zz0F7GvtylkYyyyI_GI90VA/s400/apr+086.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The beautiful coastline where the reef is situated</td></tr>
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What did we think of our stingray experience? Let the Littlest Hobo tell you….<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com6Whangara Rd, Okitu, Gisborne 4073, New Zealand-38.6656754710313 178.10142517089844-38.7152814710313 178.02246117089842 -38.6160694710313 178.18038917089845tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-12421066048174562382012-04-17T04:50:00.000-07:002012-04-17T04:50:02.726-07:00Whakarewarewa; Rotorua's living thermal village<br />
When we last visited Rotorua, several years ago, we spent an evening at a cultural show and hangi, which I really enjoyed. In spite of a few Kiwi’s telling me that it’s ‘just for tourists’ and ‘once you’ve been to one, there’s no point going to another‘, I was keen to experience it again, and in particular to let the Littlest Hobo see the singing and dancing, which I knew she would love. We were a bit wary, however, about taking her to an evening performance, where she would be up late at night and potentially unwilling to sit still and behave well if she got overtired . When we booked the Rotorua mystery hotel deal on lastminute.com and it turned out to be the Holiday Inn, I was excited to discover that it was right in front of Whakarewarewa Village, which Lonely Planet tout as one of the main draw cards to Rotorua.<br />
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Whakarewarewa Village, or to give it it’s full name Tewhakarewarewatangaoteopetauaawahiao, is a living thermal village; living in the sense that a Maori tribe still live there today. The wharepuni - homes, sit amongst the thermal pools, swirling steam and geysers that are synonymous to Rotorua, and it’s essentially a tourist attraction by day and a Maori village once the gates shut to their paying visitors at 5pm every day.<br />
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Out visit started with a guided tour, where we were welcomed by our guide Ropetahonekihimitataupopoki iharaira piripi; Robert to you and I. He talked us through a short history of the village, explained that the tribe is all one family, and inside the complex should be thought of as their home, so once we stepped through the gates we became guests in their home. Although he now lives on a farm beyond the village boundaries, Robert grew up in the complex and his face lit up as he told us stories of a happy childhood playing amongst the hot water and mud pools, finding ways to make pocket money and running around plastered in mud, scaring tourists. He explained that many of the houses these days house the older members of their community, who had lived there all their lives, and were accustomed to living with the steam, so wouldn’t adapt well to a life with everyday mod cons like ovens and showers.<br />
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Immediately after passing through the gates, we crossed a bridge with a river and a cool water pool beneath it. Looking down from the bridge, in and around the pool were Maori children of varying ages. Robert explained that they were penny diving; many years ago, when the first tourists visited Whakarewarewa before the bridge was built, they would pay a penny to be piggybacked across the river. When the bridge was built and piggybacking no longer required, the tourists began to toss coins into the river for luck, and the villagers, not understanding why the money was being thrown in their river, would go down and fetch the money from the river and keep it. It became custom for the children to do this, and the activity has continued to this day.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Diving for pennies</td></tr>
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Immediately upon entering the village, you can feel the warmth emanating from beneath your feet, and bending down to touch the ground, a few seconds is long enough, before your fingers start to feel the wrong side of warm.<br />
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We continued through the village and Robert showed us the oil baths - the outdoor bathing area where villagers go to wash, made up of several concrete baths which are filled via small channels running from the hot geothermal pools and derive their name from the oily texture and mineral deposits within the water that is used to fill them. The mineral rich water in Rotorua is said to have healing properties, and can be used to treat arthritis and eczema amongst other things - it's certainly very believable; Mr T suffers with eczema and found that it improved dramatically after a couple of dips in the Rotorua water.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the baths, with the water channel filling it from the hot pools</td></tr>
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We were shown a couple of steam box hangi - wooden boxes built into the ground to trap steam so that it can be used to cook food. Again, these are still used today; villagers often put their dinner in the hangi at the start of the day and return to collect it, cooked, at the end of the day. In the pool next to the hangi, some corn cobs were cooking using traditional methods - wrapped in a linen cloth, tied with a long rope with a brick at the end of it, and lowered into the pool, which is just below boiling point at the surface. Robert explained that meat couldn't cook in this way as the fat would react with the water with explosive consequences!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert showing us the corn cobbs</td></tr>
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One of the highlights of the tour is the view of the Pohutu and Prince of Wales Feathers geysers. The Pohutu (meaning big splash) is the largest geyser in New Zealand, rising at times to 40 metres, and the Prince of Wales feathers is the most active geyser. It is left completely to nature when they will erupt (some places add washing powder to make their geysers erupt at set times, as washing powder contains animal fat) and generally the longer they lie dormant the higher they will rise. On average, these two geysers erupt at least once an hour and you can get a feeling of how frequently they are to erupt by the weather - on a hot clear day they will erupt less frequently but shoot higher into the sky, whereas on an overcast or rainy day, they will erupt more frequently but to a lesser extent. For the duration of our visit they erupted constantly, and the sky was overcast. The bright blue pools directly in front of the geysers make good barometers for the villagers.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The geysers were erupting throughout our visit</td></tr>
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After our tour, we headed to the cultural performance area for a thoroughly enjoyable 30 minute show that included dancing, singing, the haka, stick games and even a little bit of audience participation. I really love the melodious music and the short performance was just the right length to keep the Littlest Hobo’s attention so that we all had a fantastic time. Whakarewarewa had a really laid back, friendly and approachable attitude which made me feel very comfortable, particularly with a young child in tow. Although they requested that everyone remain seated, I think this was purely so that those seated at the back could still see, and they smiled down from the stage when our youngest family member got up on the grassy area to the side of the seating to copy their dancing.<br />
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I can’t recommend Whakarewarewa village highly enough if you are visiting Rotorua, and especially if you have young children with you - being in a living village made for a unique cultural experience, and the tour was incredibly interesting and educational. Robert was an excellent tour guide, peppering our visit with little tidbits of information which added to the overall experience and really left us feeling like we’d had an insight into life in the thermal village. With the show included in general entry, the visit was excellent value at $30 each for the adults and two year olds go free. Most of the other cultural performances that I looked into were topping the $100 per person mark (including dinner) and would probably have been a bit too long and late to suit our needs with a toddler in tow.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com2Whakarewarewa, Rotorua, New Zealand-38.1598982 176.2644195-38.3597222 175.9485625 -37.9600742 176.5802765tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-64271000963605136342012-04-12T18:06:00.000-07:002012-04-17T00:30:58.984-07:00Easter in Napier - what's travel without the people you meet?<br />
Traditionally, we’ve spent Easter with friends or family, and this year was to be no exception with plans to meet our good friends from back in the UK who now live in Auckland. We planned to hire a bach together in Gisborne and spend a week or so there, but it obviously wasn’t meant to be - we left it too late and were unable to find anywhere to accommodate us all. Instead we opted to take one that was available from Easter Monday, so Two and a half Travellers stayed in art deco Napier a bit longer than initially planned.<br />
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Looking for something a bit more than just our own company, we booked ourselves into <a href="http://www.holidayhouses.co.nz/properties/3169.asp" target="_blank">Riverbend Family Lodge</a> - with three holiday chalets sharing the grounds surrounding the owners house, as well as a pool, hot tub and trampoline we thought this would be a good option for meeting some other people.<br />
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When we arrived we were greeted by the friendly owners, Greg and Kendall, who showed us to our accommodation and made sure that we felt comfortable to give them a yell should we need anything. The rain was pouring down with a forecast for much of the same in the days to come, and we were the only people staying there - in spite of this we still felt that we’d made a good choice, with cosy, functional accommodation and friendly hosts.<br />
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We spent the remainder of that day and the following dashing between the lodge, the car, and various indoor venues, feeling soggy and damp. But on the afternoon of the second day, the rain stopped and the Littlest Hobo made a bee line for the trampoline. Kendall asked us whether we’d like to join an Easter egg hunt on Easter Sunday (weather permitting) along with the other two families who would be there.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Napier beaches were pretty special</td></tr>
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The other chalets filled, and as the weather dried up, the children made friends and played on the trampoline, in the garden and the swimming pool. The Littlest Hobo loved picking vegetables, playing with the rabbits, cat, dog and riding horses - she had a ball. The Easter Egg hunt was a hit with all the kids, in spite of a wide range of ages, and the adults drank coffee and ate hot cross buns. The Littlest Hobo’s first horse ride was another highlight.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoo-Jhypm9ub_RHXMgji17YS5QBqBVvuyeNdLi-_1ljWBaDhHX3iA3Y4SnVZnplCMYfpL_tkGZj1iieAbJDJYREL1lVfSgXNfzuwjjvxqEK-35ncMNmwXsf2ncYeUtoU2t4j9iG7W2Tw/s1600/hunting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoo-Jhypm9ub_RHXMgji17YS5QBqBVvuyeNdLi-_1ljWBaDhHX3iA3Y4SnVZnplCMYfpL_tkGZj1iieAbJDJYREL1lVfSgXNfzuwjjvxqEK-35ncMNmwXsf2ncYeUtoU2t4j9iG7W2Tw/s400/hunting.jpg" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hunting in the vegetable patch</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZjEmCK6ivo1yA4nUCMuWQ_bFfmeEoYWElmQxXLId6FJDuU7QRcwQRkaF6SkStLaePCyJ98QGJJ2CgZz9UTSJyanPL_2ofFx7tPlZAOVkDpFIbbh33pf4_NSftW3D2_3DNWrDsOA4bL_I/s1600/stash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZjEmCK6ivo1yA4nUCMuWQ_bFfmeEoYWElmQxXLId6FJDuU7QRcwQRkaF6SkStLaePCyJ98QGJJ2CgZz9UTSJyanPL_2ofFx7tPlZAOVkDpFIbbh33pf4_NSftW3D2_3DNWrDsOA4bL_I/s400/stash.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Checking out the stash in her home made basket</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hot cross buns and hot coffee made the perfect start to Easter Sunday</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcdsxLsF4uTVESyOhyR-5v7-mQUpjWqlLXWeqtli8jU7A-TH5VmflNHPpufmVdc07gXOdpbrYA5_q0_s-xEvQUUOaqCMnmlpx0W0k1ARA40xLkd9C4SlOCzSdmNo_phx_wufMFPqJFCNg/s1600/jump.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcdsxLsF4uTVESyOhyR-5v7-mQUpjWqlLXWeqtli8jU7A-TH5VmflNHPpufmVdc07gXOdpbrYA5_q0_s-xEvQUUOaqCMnmlpx0W0k1ARA40xLkd9C4SlOCzSdmNo_phx_wufMFPqJFCNg/s400/jump.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They had more hop than the Easter Bunny on that trampoline</td></tr>
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Easter weekend had the potential to be a bit of a wash out, not only with the terrible weather, but after a couple of weeks where we hadn’t met many people and without being able to see our friends until Easter Monday, we thought we might feel a bit lonely. Thanks to the wonderful environment at <a href="http://www.holidayhouses.co.nz/properties/3169.asp" target="_blank">Riverbend Family Lodge</a>, this wasn’t the case, and we ended up feeling that this was probably the best place we had stayed in during our entire time in New Zealand. To coin a cliché, we felt that we’d arrived as strangers and left as friends. This was largely due to our fantastic hosts but also our fellow guests, whose company we really enjoyed too. The Littlest Hobo particularly took a shine to the teenaged girl who was staying next door, and her and her step mum babysat while Mr T and I went into Napier for some lunch - an unexpected and much appreciated treat for this travelling family.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitq77nkgORyl-yz081dqWhYRdfELkJ1o0c7hHMLsjhyQIs4jERZZDz7WBx57r6aVLaZWpmrfNULe7GKupt924Brag8gcFkq8rJFN3OhQRcJLUEGrp8_Ev_M0fnLEp3A85G9JdZaiktk2w/s1600/horse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitq77nkgORyl-yz081dqWhYRdfELkJ1o0c7hHMLsjhyQIs4jERZZDz7WBx57r6aVLaZWpmrfNULe7GKupt924Brag8gcFkq8rJFN3OhQRcJLUEGrp8_Ev_M0fnLEp3A85G9JdZaiktk2w/s400/horse.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First horse ride ever - Emma (Greg and Kendall's daughter) was kind enough to let the Littlest Hobo have a ride on Chloe</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6w4CQho2vyyMGBZbfFwzk6nNYiSld6kqiyMOE4TldwbBZtAqX6pW5VDSykVhEH0mZKxqto0AgcZJTQg_iCUKcTmd2Q0KTEEYE523eGZFWCCMSVbI8Wf7viirk_S8mRdN132Eqkbh41Yc/s1600/hottub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6w4CQho2vyyMGBZbfFwzk6nNYiSld6kqiyMOE4TldwbBZtAqX6pW5VDSykVhEH0mZKxqto0AgcZJTQg_iCUKcTmd2Q0KTEEYE523eGZFWCCMSVbI8Wf7viirk_S8mRdN132Eqkbh41Yc/s400/hottub.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out in the hot tub with her new buddies Mabel and Charlie! </td></tr>
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For me, one of the most important aspects of travelling, and the element that can change a good trip into a great one is the people that you meet along the way. Interesting stories, little quirks, spontaneous fun and random acts of kindness are what make the average travel blanket into a veritable patchwork quilt.<br />
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How have the people who you have met added to your travel experience?<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com4Napier, New Zealand-39.4928444 176.9120178-39.5908749 176.7540893 -39.3948139 177.0699463tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-17120767776941855242012-04-05T02:36:00.002-07:002012-04-05T02:53:14.238-07:00Kaikoura - in search of the whale's song<br />
When I was young, my grandparents were models for Gary Blythe when he illustrated the childrens book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Whales-Song-Picture-Puffins/dp/0140559973" target="_blank">The Whale's Song</a>. I loved reading it, and although I was a teenager when it was published, seeing my Nana and Grandad in print added a touch of extra realism to the story, make believing that I could have been Lilly - the little girl who listened to the whale's song. This book was the start of a fascination for the graceful giants that roam our oceans, and since I first read it I have always been keen to see a whale for myself. <br />
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From living in Sydney, my understanding of whale watching was that it is a seasonal activity, taking place as the whales complete their migration from May to September, so when I realised that <a href="http://www.whalewatch.co.nz/" target="_blank">Whale Watch Kaikoura</a> offer year-round opportunities, I was delighted. Inspite of having heard that Kaikoura was a veritable haven for aquatic wildlife, I was a little skeptical. On further investigation, I discovered that the Kaikoura Canyon, just 1km from the coast, offers a unique geographical situation, encouraging an abundance of marine life, including a never ending stream of passing whales, along with several resident sperm whales - one of the only places in the world where this opportunity is available throughout the calendar year.<br />
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My alarm went off and I jumped straight out of bed, in spite of the early hour, then proceeded to bash around the unfamiliar house in the dark, trying to dress without waking anyone. First light was just breaking as I arrived at the whale way station (ha ha - like all good New Zealand railway stations, Kaikoura’s has a dual purpose - in this case it houses <a href="http://www.whalewatch.co.nz/" target="_blank">Whale Watch Kaikoura</a>’s base camp). There was only one car in the car park, so I walked slowly, looking out into the murky depths and wondering about the height of the monstrous waves that crashed on the shore nearby.<br />
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As more people arrived, I headed inside to check in. When you book your experience, you are warned that the trip is dependant on weather conditions. Out trip carried a sea sickness warning, and the rest of the trips that day were still marked as unconfirmed so far. After checking in, I joined many of my fellow whale watchers in purchasing a sea sickness tablet. I’d intended to keep it in my camera bag until needed, but in the end, mainly out of fear of not being able to find it at the right time, I downed it with a much needed caffeine fix from the on site café.<br />
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After a quick introduction and safety briefing, we headed to our boat; as we piled on we were advised to sit at the back for a less bumpy ride. In spite of my usual wimpishness, I felt strangely compelled to sit in the second row from the front. We headed out to sea, being briefed that we must stay inside the boat and seated due to the high speed we were moving. You’re not kidding me - we flew across the water, jumping over each massive wave as we hit it. As we sped along, our host kept our attention, with a constant flow of interesting information about the canyon, the marine life it attracted, and the whales.<br />
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Before I'd arranged the trip, I had done some research into the whale watching options and had discovered that you could go by helicopter or by boat. The helicopter trip is often touted as the superior option, as from above you will see the whole whale, whereas on the boat you will most often only see the spray from their blowholes and a portion of their back, their dorsal fin and tail. In spite of this I was keen to go by boat, not only because the trip was much longer (approx two and a half hours as opposed to half an hour), but also because I felt that I would get a closer look and have the opportunity to see that all important flick of the tail as they swam back down from a better angle. Seeing the images that our hosts showed us on the boat really confirmed that for me that I'd made the right choice, as well as highlighting just how enormous these mammals are! I was also impressed with their ethical standpoint, using only their eyes and ears to track and respecting the whale's desires by staying well back and following their lead.<br />
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Being the first trip of the day meant that we didn’t have the knowledge of the previous boats to guide us straight to the whales. Our only option was to head out to one of the spots where the whales often hang out and listen for them. When we reached the canyon, the boat came to a halt and we headed outside, bobbing on the ocean, surrounded by an endless variety of bird life, gliding on the wind then diving down to the surface. Meanwhile, the Captain took out a long conical device with a pair of headphones attached, an underwater directional hydrophone, and stuck the end of it in the water. He was listening for the whale's click - the means by which they communicate and navigate while they are deep under the water. He heard a whale and we all piled back inside to race of to the place where he had pinpointed it.<br />
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When we arrived in the right area, we all rushed back outside and those of us who weren't too green (I was grateful at this point for the seasickness tablet...) climbed the stairs to the upper viewing platform, and started scanning the waters. An announcement came from our host to say that they could see the whale, but I could only see water and birds. Then one of the crew members pointed the whale out to me, logging; a small portion of him visible as he hovered near the surface gathering oxygen for his next dive to the depths of the canyon to feast on giant squid. I raised my camera to my eye and snapped as many pictures as I could as his tail shot into the air then he dove down and was gone.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiaki disappearing below the surface </td></tr>
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The whale, recognisable to the crew by his markings, was one of the resident males; Tiaki. As we headed back inside they explained that on average, a whale stays on the surface for approximately ten minutes before diving for around 45 minutes. As we couldn't hear Tiaki after we saw him, there was a chance that he was in the shallows and might reappear, but while the captain was listening he had heard another whale, so we headed in that direction. As we sped across the water, one of the crew members spotted the whale, and then saw it dive before we had had a chance to get to it... rather than a 45 minute wait we listened again, and headed off in hot pursuit of another round of clicks. Although there were clearly a few people suffering with the motion of the ocean, I found the thrill of the chase exhilarating, and bouncing over the waves in the hope of another sighting really added to the experience for me.<br />
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This time, we were rewarded for our efforts and as we headed out to the viewing deck we could see a spray of water rising five metres into the air every ten seconds or so. We could see Mati Mati, another resident male, on the surface of the water, where he remained for approximately four minutes. He looked huge, and I had to remind myself that I could only see a small part of him - adult male sperm whales can grow to up to 20.5 metres - truly as big as a whale! Suddenly, he started to curve up out of the water and the crew told us that he was about to dive. He looked so graceful as the curved section rippled along to his tail and he lifted it high into the air before disappearing tail-tip last.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOEJtZP4mGtpUPgrKei08lSxXDxUu-ENbqTV9QEBeGEm2GxW-tFoBsF7pN7sBX7kovs8mq5yioJ2tyPqdy0G8OLvEfJBR23TvFQCIudJ_6Scpgr5aBJI7I5rsYtNh3fDvHepFtoocqKxM/s1600/logging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOEJtZP4mGtpUPgrKei08lSxXDxUu-ENbqTV9QEBeGEm2GxW-tFoBsF7pN7sBX7kovs8mq5yioJ2tyPqdy0G8OLvEfJBR23TvFQCIudJ_6Scpgr5aBJI7I5rsYtNh3fDvHepFtoocqKxM/s400/logging.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Logging, with a spray coming from the blowhole</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About to dive down again - cameras at the ready everybody!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4OQrnM-Q7rssrN2_T8Wz8dUCDR2Mt8qr-ZEgqhbIqYxLct7rm6XPr1eoONOC6Wlkf-Veb2c_8qu4JsuRdoZqdREketuuqi-L1Hc2gplEGYAtcx61g8RuewfM4h66NBTPisi0jjzCVLVg/s1600/tail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4OQrnM-Q7rssrN2_T8Wz8dUCDR2Mt8qr-ZEgqhbIqYxLct7rm6XPr1eoONOC6Wlkf-Veb2c_8qu4JsuRdoZqdREketuuqi-L1Hc2gplEGYAtcx61g8RuewfM4h66NBTPisi0jjzCVLVg/s400/tail.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With a splash of his tail he was gone</td></tr>
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Although we had only been there watching him for a few minutes, and we had only seen a small portion of the entire whale, it was a magical, breathtaking, awe-inspiring experience. I felt a real sense of camaraderie with my fellow camera touting whale watchers, as we all talked about what we had just seen and compared photographs.<br />
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At this point, as the whales weren't staying on the surface for long, the crew decided to call it a day on the whale chase and take us to an area which is popular with Dusky Dolphins for the remainder of our time. As soon as we arrived we were greeted by around 20 energetic dolphins swimming around the hull of the boat and performing for our cameras. Dusky dolphins are one of the most acrobatic species of dolphins, and they certainly didn't disappointing - leaping out of the water, flipping and synchronised swimming - there was so much going on that it was hard to know where to look! I found a new respect for wildlife photographers as I struggled to keep up with the speed of these playful creatures, who swam so close that I struggled with my telephoto lens - they coaxed out another set of smiles as well as squeals of delight from us all though.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJWhp24td1J3lc-rl2aXpjhWyG5oXwEssgjpZ9x67UwUk7jROY9QEQq4KmitWhqgeVwfdkfIsUdbs_TWZcO7szHN9wUs_HJdCZxk9XgPvG7F9LMak3lDOcAAqiv6vbkSkKyniGNBtzGs/s1600/duskydolphin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJWhp24td1J3lc-rl2aXpjhWyG5oXwEssgjpZ9x67UwUk7jROY9QEQq4KmitWhqgeVwfdkfIsUdbs_TWZcO7szHN9wUs_HJdCZxk9XgPvG7F9LMak3lDOcAAqiv6vbkSkKyniGNBtzGs/s400/duskydolphin.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I had a spellbinding morning with Whale Watch Kaikoura - when we returned to the shore I was ready to turn around and do it all again. My photos are hardly going to make National Geographic, but I'd had such a fantastic time, and I floated around on a high for the rest of the day. If you're ever in the area, it's worth making a detour to Kaikoura for the marine life alone, although the town itself, and the picturesque coastline with mountains right to the waters edge, is well worth a visit too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEBE9pGxYiY9peoSws7Xo8JwTbpAHogO25UHQW88gaOkRp8iu-r-J1Tw1mHyKsXQbR9-mASo-n4PzRisXCyEIHO5zUve1OT3B7p5i_SiGAFz5Y2Lh1kCShx1BmlJfZ4EXQoC3cx_WIZU/s1600/kaikoura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEBE9pGxYiY9peoSws7Xo8JwTbpAHogO25UHQW88gaOkRp8iu-r-J1Tw1mHyKsXQbR9-mASo-n4PzRisXCyEIHO5zUve1OT3B7p5i_SiGAFz5Y2Lh1kCShx1BmlJfZ4EXQoC3cx_WIZU/s400/kaikoura.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Kaikoura waking up for the day</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com8Kaikoura, New Zealand-42.4008174 173.681386-42.7760564 173.04967200000002 -42.0255784 174.3131tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-17473785058379535782012-04-03T03:48:00.001-07:002012-04-03T19:22:00.850-07:00Matariki - it was written in the stars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We’d been on the road for over a month when we all got a bit sick of staying somewhere new every second night, so we decided that a one week stop was on the cards. Mr T found a farm stay in the Nelson area. The family who own the farm were away on holiday themselves, but said that as long as we were willing to look after ourselves the place was ours, and we got a great rate too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJQg_UxSHQZKNsAuLIjkpxdQDGBhnWGcW6rKKx90HAE2tG4DnZw6K7PMaThxpq1EZekFuW-Khpa4OTC31zblYrPKqCefaqYBxqiJxQeK7Rj7rD0siEOoCxHzAB8j3T25xJRMnNrhm2pwk/s1600/swinging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJQg_UxSHQZKNsAuLIjkpxdQDGBhnWGcW6rKKx90HAE2tG4DnZw6K7PMaThxpq1EZekFuW-Khpa4OTC31zblYrPKqCefaqYBxqiJxQeK7Rj7rD0siEOoCxHzAB8j3T25xJRMnNrhm2pwk/s400/swinging.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The littlest hobo loved the garden at the farm</td></tr>
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We were wowed by the remoteness as soon as we arrived, based on lush farmland, with sheep roaming in the foreground and mountains looming in the distance. The garden was phenomenal - huge, completely fenced in with a swing a little bike and toy tractor which left the Littlest Hobo desperate to get out and play all day. There were adult bikes too and a basketball hoop, and a vegetable and herb garden and fruit trees to help ourselves from. I mustn’t forget the longest washing line ever - perfect timing given the huge bag of dirty washing we were carting around, and better yet I could satisfy my inner cavewoman watching our smalls flapping in the wind as the sheep grazed nearby.<br />
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Our cottage was in keeping with the ‘grandma’s house’ charm that we have come to expect from many of the older bach’s we stay in, along with plenty of kids toys, and a welcome basket with all manner of goodies along with information about the local area. My only disappointment was discovering that the internet access that had been advertised was actually only available in the farmhouse, and as they were away we couldn’t access it. On top of that, but much more anticipated, we had no phone reception, so we were completely cut off from the outside world. Although this wasn’t in our original plan, it ended up being quite refreshing, very relaxing, and in honesty probably about as close as we will really get to that technology free month that Mr T was hankering after when we first planned our trip!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were sheep everywhere!</td></tr>
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The Nelson region is renowned for it’s good weather, and our week here was no exception; although we made a few trips (Golden Bay/Farewell Spit and Nelson on market day) we also had plenty of time to just kick back and relax. We had freedom to roam around the farm, so we explored the hills and rivers, walked through the stream, chatted with the cows (much to their disgust) and watched the sun, and the rainbows, come and go. The old Matariki school house sits in the grounds; it’s been disused since 1942, but the door was open so we went in to explore, with plenty of it’s history recorded and preserved inside, and we took pleasure in finding our hosts family listed amongst the students.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Matariki school house</td></tr>
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I read some of the entries in the cottage guest book, and it made me feel sad that we hadn’t visited when the owners were home, everyone who signed the book sounded like they’d had an amazing time really experiencing the farm and really being welcomed like family. I was keen to see the dogs working to move the sheep and Mr T was absolutely itching for a turn on the quad bike. I’m hoping we’ll be able to find an opportunity to do these things on the North Island before we leave New Zealand.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Gnl3g8RxEIkILENnViSgVXeP_Wuw7dm5S63eXH0-xVe9bkkCX0cEINaM-l4q0tEMJX4Uevb_bPOIrX8knefjAxOR0lBhGJ4_dVyo8wc3bsleHpexMn6_J4qtCnU2Ana4HrVJDR8y80k/s1600/cows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Gnl3g8RxEIkILENnViSgVXeP_Wuw7dm5S63eXH0-xVe9bkkCX0cEINaM-l4q0tEMJX4Uevb_bPOIrX8knefjAxOR0lBhGJ4_dVyo8wc3bsleHpexMn6_J4qtCnU2Ana4HrVJDR8y80k/s400/cows.jpg" width="350" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What're you looking at?!</td></tr>
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Stepping outside after dark was the biggest treat of all; a veritable cornucopia of astrological delight enveloped me and captured my immediate and unwavering attention. Had it not been for the incessant attack of viscous sandflies I could have stayed there all night, every night, gazing up in awestruck wonder. As it was, it became a nightly ritual, after putting the littlest hobo to bed we would head out into the inky darkness and stand in front of the house looking up for a few minutes, the void of silence echoing on the mountains that surrounded us. I have never seen so many stars filling the sky - if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I would have struggled to believe it.<br />
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The farm was called Matariki. I didn’t know what it meant, so when we were in the children’s section of the Wellington library the following week, and I spotted a book by the same name I snapped it up and started to read. I discovered that Matariki is the name for the Maori New Year. The word has two literal translations - Tiny Eyes (stars) and Eyes of God. The celebration takes place in June, based around a cluster of seven stars, and focuses on the unique place in which we live and giving respect to the land we live on. With this new understanding I couldn’t think of a more fitting name for the cottage in the stars.<br />
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Staying on the farm was the antithesis of our life in Sydney - from living on a busy road with a shop opposite, a pub five doors down and a constant flow of passers by, with every form of public transport known to man on our doorstep and one of the most iconic views in the world from our lounge window, to a little farm nestled amongst the mountains on a dirt track that sees only a few vehicles pass by every day, a fifteen minute drive to the nearest shop, and almost an hours drive to the nearest sizeable town, and all of nature’s bounty right outside your front door. While this life isn’t what I’d chose personally for the long run, I thoroughly enjoyed my immersion into it.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com4Tapawera, New Zealand-41.3930711 172.8234206-41.5836661 172.5075636 -41.2024761 173.13927759999999tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-68613843581383335512012-03-30T02:14:00.001-07:002012-03-30T03:24:02.568-07:00Travelling NZ with a toddler: the South Island round up<br />
We’ve come to the end of our five week trip of New Zealand’s South Island, so it’s no surprise that we’ve been hit with a bit of reflection.<br />
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We’ve travelled over 6000km starting in Dunedin and finishing in Picton. We’ve argued over directions eight times, even with sat nav! We’ve visited 46 different places. We’ve seen the extreme South of the mainland (Slope Point) and the far North (Farewell Spit). We’ve watched the sun rise over the Eastern shores and set over Western waters. The map below shows our route.<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="350" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.google.co.uk/maps?f=d&source=s_d&saddr=Dunedin,+New+Zealand&daddr=Portobello,+Dunedin,+New+Zealand+to:Niagara,+New+Zealand+to:Slope+Point,+New+Zealand+to:Te+Anau,+New+Zealand+to:Milford+Sound,+New+Zealand+to:Queenstown,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Glenorchy,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Arrowtown,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Wanaka,+New+Zealand+to:Lake+Hawea+to:Fox+Glacier,+New+Zealand+to:Franz+Josef+Glacier,+New+Zealand+to:Greymouth,+New+Zealand+to:Pancake+Rocks+and+Blowholes,+Paparoa+National+Park,+West+Coast,+New+Zealand+to:Arthur's+Pass,+New+Zealand+to:Christchurch,+New+Zealand+to:Akaroa,+New+Zealand+to:Hanmer+Springs,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Kaikoura,+New+Zealand+to:Cloudy+Bay+Vineyards+Limited,+Jacksons+Road+(P.O.+Box+376),+Blenheim,+New+Zealand+to:Tapawera,+New+Zealand+to:Collingwood,+New+Zealand+to:Nelson,+New+Zealand+to:Picton,+New+Zealand&hl=en&geocode=FRjyQ_0djqopCik9UV8P4OQrqDFBmXmEhu8ABQ%3BFV6LRP0dy_ErCilHW7aoIrMuqDFApHmEhu8ABQ%3BFVgCOf0dULwUCilPgUrHDRMtqDGwfnmEhu8ABQ%3BFdMFOP0d4eASCimVKU-0U2otqDHwgXmEhu8ABQ%3BFcwHS_0dpSz_CSlrXmaVIG3UqTFQtHmEhu8ABQ%3BFXddVv0ddVcCCil18X88vwvWqTGgjnmEhu8ABQ%3BFQbhUP0ddJYNCilf3qjX8R3VqTEApnmEhu8ABQ%3BFYqiU_0dZWYJCil_mbBzH6TVqTEAcXmEhu8ABQ%3BFYg-Uv0dFjsQCikbVcRwfBjVqTHwXHmEhu8ABQ%3BFcn6Vf0dor0UCilvLey5HUbVqTHgwXmEhu8ABQ%3BFT5yWf0d7FUXCimP-d3MNVTVbDHQHGWrhu8AKg%3BFeDIaP0dNEMiCin96kCPhS8qbTFwbnmEhu8ABQ%3BFaRJav0d2O8kCik3tC_vJn4pbTHAbnmEhu8ABQ%3BFShCeP0dCng0CilTENVN2T8vbTGgcnmEhu8ABQ%3BFbG7ff0d0SA4CiE1rjIP_hL34A%3BFfSycP0d7uA5Cik_WtJba08ubTGg4XmEhu8ABQ%3BFerAZ_0dQThKCikB7cVjSC8ybTFFmXmEhu8ABQ%3BFe6bY_0dRklPCikT3kUJCswzbTGgWnmEhu8ABQ%3BFd0Zd_0dmShNCilHWVRveWMwbTHwc3mEhu8ABQ%3BFc8Def0d6ipaCil1fJE0OiA6bTE2mXmEhu8ABQ%3BFc7ghv0dXC5dCiEro_DmTrCjdA%3BFVFkiP0dfRNNCimZcuYiEQw7bTHwsnmEhu8ABQ%3BFV8Ek_0doMdKCinhuY_Gdew8bTFgZ3mEhu8ABQ%3BFZhCiv0dfRpUCil9LreRxOw7bTGApJbniO8ACg%3BFZ_0if0dbAtfCikFONSk6iY5bTFgoXmEhu8ABQ&aq=0&oq=Picton&sll=-43.678445,170.93364&sspn=6.642485,14.128418&mra=ls&ie=UTF8&t=m&ll=-43.678445,170.93364&spn=5.96339,6.43118&output=embed" width="425"></iframe><br />
<small><a href="http://www.google.co.uk/maps?f=d&source=embed&saddr=Dunedin,+New+Zealand&daddr=Portobello,+Dunedin,+New+Zealand+to:Niagara,+New+Zealand+to:Slope+Point,+New+Zealand+to:Te+Anau,+New+Zealand+to:Milford+Sound,+New+Zealand+to:Queenstown,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Glenorchy,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Arrowtown,+Otago,+New+Zealand+to:Wanaka,+New+Zealand+to:Lake+Hawea+to:Fox+Glacier,+New+Zealand+to:Franz+Josef+Glacier,+New+Zealand+to:Greymouth,+New+Zealand+to:Pancake+Rocks+and+Blowholes,+Paparoa+National+Park,+West+Coast,+New+Zealand+to:Arthur's+Pass,+New+Zealand+to:Christchurch,+New+Zealand+to:Akaroa,+New+Zealand+to:Hanmer+Springs,+Canterbury,+New+Zealand+to:Kaikoura,+New+Zealand+to:Cloudy+Bay+Vineyards+Limited,+Jacksons+Road+(P.O.+Box+376),+Blenheim,+New+Zealand+to:Tapawera,+New+Zealand+to:Collingwood,+New+Zealand+to:Nelson,+New+Zealand+to:Picton,+New+Zealand&hl=en&geocode=FRjyQ_0djqopCik9UV8P4OQrqDFBmXmEhu8ABQ%3BFV6LRP0dy_ErCilHW7aoIrMuqDFApHmEhu8ABQ%3BFVgCOf0dULwUCilPgUrHDRMtqDGwfnmEhu8ABQ%3BFdMFOP0d4eASCimVKU-0U2otqDHwgXmEhu8ABQ%3BFcwHS_0dpSz_CSlrXmaVIG3UqTFQtHmEhu8ABQ%3BFXddVv0ddVcCCil18X88vwvWqTGgjnmEhu8ABQ%3BFQbhUP0ddJYNCilf3qjX8R3VqTEApnmEhu8ABQ%3BFYqiU_0dZWYJCil_mbBzH6TVqTEAcXmEhu8ABQ%3BFYg-Uv0dFjsQCikbVcRwfBjVqTHwXHmEhu8ABQ%3BFcn6Vf0dor0UCilvLey5HUbVqTHgwXmEhu8ABQ%3BFT5yWf0d7FUXCimP-d3MNVTVbDHQHGWrhu8AKg%3BFeDIaP0dNEMiCin96kCPhS8qbTFwbnmEhu8ABQ%3BFaRJav0d2O8kCik3tC_vJn4pbTHAbnmEhu8ABQ%3BFShCeP0dCng0CilTENVN2T8vbTGgcnmEhu8ABQ%3BFbG7ff0d0SA4CiE1rjIP_hL34A%3BFfSycP0d7uA5Cik_WtJba08ubTGg4XmEhu8ABQ%3BFerAZ_0dQThKCikB7cVjSC8ybTFFmXmEhu8ABQ%3BFe6bY_0dRklPCikT3kUJCswzbTGgWnmEhu8ABQ%3BFd0Zd_0dmShNCilHWVRveWMwbTHwc3mEhu8ABQ%3BFc8Def0d6ipaCil1fJE0OiA6bTE2mXmEhu8ABQ%3BFc7ghv0dXC5dCiEro_DmTrCjdA%3BFVFkiP0dfRNNCimZcuYiEQw7bTHwsnmEhu8ABQ%3BFV8Ek_0doMdKCinhuY_Gdew8bTFgZ3mEhu8ABQ%3BFZhCiv0dfRpUCil9LreRxOw7bTGApJbniO8ACg%3BFZ_0if0dbAtfCikFONSk6iY5bTFgoXmEhu8ABQ&aq=0&oq=Picton&sll=-43.678445,170.93364&sspn=6.642485,14.128418&mra=ls&ie=UTF8&t=m&ll=-43.678445,170.93364&spn=5.96339,6.43118" style="color: blue; text-align: left;">View Larger Map</a></small><br />
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We’ve each slept in 13 different beds. We’ve had our first experience of staying in a youth hostel as a family - much to the surprise of some of us, it was pretty good, albeit a bit nerve wracking every time we saw a jar of peanut butter. We may even do it again sometime. Mr T has got his bach booking skills down pat and become quite a master at getting excellent rates, so that’s been our main accommodation while we’ve been moving around. We’ve also stayed in a couple of motels and one hotel, but it was no Ritz, believe me! We made one <a href="http://www.twoandahalftravellers.blogspot.co.nz/2012/03/accommodation-blunders-in-christchurch.html" target="_blank">accommodation stuff up</a>, but one's not so bad, in the grand scheme of things, and it meant that we added Akaroa to our list of places visited, which was definitely a good thing. I’m still hankering after a campervan experience and trying to work out how to achieve that.<br />
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The littlest hobo has coped with the changes in our lifestyle well, and for the most part seems to be enjoying it. We've managed well with her allergies and intollerences, as long as we made sure we stocked up on oat milk in bigger towns we didn't have any problems. Her asthma and cough seemed better when we were in rural areas, and I am glad to say that the epipens remain snuggled in their packaging. When I asked her what her favourite things in New Zealand were she said 'playing and cafés', but I know from the look on her face that <a href="http://www.twoandahalftravellers.blogspot.co.nz/2012/02/standing-room-at-penguin-place.html" target="_blank">Penguin Place</a>, the Queenstown luge, Hamner Springs thermal spa and staying on the farm in Tasman all ticked the boxes for her. We were all very fond of Queenstown, with so much to see and do in and around there (and the blog posts about that are still to come... we were too busy experiencing it all to write about it at the time) plus we had warm, comfortable, well equipped accommodation with amazing views, which is always a bonus.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bw01sN1jh4y8iX4iF6v_AYiBhTVWVxE0eOq3xQWzBxmbRzq3LMBRSiDE8ou3EhnWE5GB48w1ivKEUbXSp1vQgN9aV6RQhBqn0k9Nz58bodY8VJbWoZ1KaakElteP0a16G8TpPTVm880/s1600/queenstown+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4bw01sN1jh4y8iX4iF6v_AYiBhTVWVxE0eOq3xQWzBxmbRzq3LMBRSiDE8ou3EhnWE5GB48w1ivKEUbXSp1vQgN9aV6RQhBqn0k9Nz58bodY8VJbWoZ1KaakElteP0a16G8TpPTVm880/s400/queenstown+view.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our Queenstown apartment made staying in quite appealing</td></tr>
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We’ve encountered yellow eyed and blue penguins, sealions and seals, two gigantic sperm whales, a pot bellied pig, chooks, goats, horses, cows and approximately three million two hundred and eighty nine thousand and seventeen sheep. We’ve been bitten by more sandflies than I care to remember, and have the war wounds to prove it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdc1aeuYZBQrz2J5x2uASZaBWiK_ND4MampNvsS-qPbEpHUEXkv7zAlHfAwPBWGCj6TBmaRDDR1RwRPGQcZ5DHHBYOTZyKMrQJyQncPnGCUkud1Z9oWRjDlJR_7j6G0R1w5KM63Bro1zw/s1600/cows.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdc1aeuYZBQrz2J5x2uASZaBWiK_ND4MampNvsS-qPbEpHUEXkv7zAlHfAwPBWGCj6TBmaRDDR1RwRPGQcZ5DHHBYOTZyKMrQJyQncPnGCUkud1Z9oWRjDlJR_7j6G0R1w5KM63Bro1zw/s400/cows.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cows and sandfly in the middle of a long white cloud</td></tr>
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We’ve munched our way through seventy two inches of Subway seven dollar sandwiches, and at least one of us thinks that that is quite enough for now, thank you. We’ve also enjoyed our fair share of eggs, veges, fruit and milk fresh from farms we’ve stayed on and roadside stalls, and this is something that I love.<br />
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I've made over 1600 photographs, and so far the netbook is still standing under the weight of it all. That's a hefty slideshow that somebody will have to sit through at some point.<br />
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We’ve spent roughly NZ$8000 which is only $1,500 over our original (and possibly slightly unrealistic) budget.<br />
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On more than one occasion we’ve been convinced that ‘the land of the long white cloud’ is a truly apt name for this enchanting landscape. Our best view was over Lake Wakatipu on the drive from Queenstown to Glenorchy - actually, that was my favourite view ever, not just in New Zealand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgwn_kcGcylppib8aKp0G9uqubVmNVMwSePBmb8f7n7ddGI93IiJspJAsbwPnsUY8Syn2PkVM-svPjhTVEJy4U7D-ypcm8igSsznmV-UdDhQdha3yCsVAN8d31IK9z3TQlknvFLjkSmo/s1600/glenorchy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZgwn_kcGcylppib8aKp0G9uqubVmNVMwSePBmb8f7n7ddGI93IiJspJAsbwPnsUY8Syn2PkVM-svPjhTVEJy4U7D-ypcm8igSsznmV-UdDhQdha3yCsVAN8d31IK9z3TQlknvFLjkSmo/s400/glenorchy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Never have I experienced such diversity in such a small area - from the towering wonder of fjordland to the terrifying beauty of the glaciers and the <a href="http://www.twoandahalftravellers.blogspot.co.nz/2012/03/being-humbled-in-christchurch.html" target="_blank">sobering tragedy of Christchurch</a>, all within a few short hours drive of each other. The glorious isolation and tranquillity that encapsulates you in the soft rolling hills of Tasman is an equally necessary part of the South Island experience alongside watching dusky dolphins dance along the Eastern shores and getting an adrenalin fix in Queenstown (on the luge, of course!).<br />
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I didn’t really appreciate mountains until I came to the South Island - the place is covered in them, but they are all so different, and that realisation has been a bit of an awakening. Seeing the mountains swathed in cloud which slowly burns away with the warmth of the sun is a fantastic way to start your day, as is dipping your feet into an icy cold glacial mountain stream.<br />
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You could drop a destination or two from our itinerary, but it wouldn’t be the same experience. You could do it in half the time, but then you wouldn’t really feel everywhere, just see it through a glass window. You could double the time we spent, and you wouldn’t be bored; we left most places wanting more, which is a good feeling to carry around with you.<br />
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New Zealand’s South Island was everything we expected and more. If it isn’t on your bucket list, it might be time to start reconsidering.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com7South Island, Canterbury, New Zealand-45.1526707 169.8926333-48.221864700000005 164.8389223 -42.0834767 174.9463443tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-74296938233302484662012-03-18T02:39:00.000-07:002012-03-18T03:07:53.882-07:00Being humbled in Christchurch<br />
After <a href="http://www.twoandahalftravellers.blogspot.co.nz/2012/03/accommodation-blunders-in-christchurch.html" target="_blank">our accommodation debacle</a> we headed off to find a motel for the night - we pointed ourselves in the direction of the airport, figuring there’s always last minute accommodation around airports, but on the way stumbled upon a great little motel so we stopped there for the night. As I was checking in, the owner started to show me a few places on the map. I noticed that we were staying on the edge of the red zone, which he had kindly marked on the map - a sizeable chunk of the CBD which is currently shut off to the public while dangerous buildings are removed and the area is made safe again. When we’d first talked about going to Christchurch, some friends and family had asked us if we should really go there now, but everything I saw when I researched it suggested that Christchurch was encouraging tourists to start coming back, and we felt compelled to support that notion and include it in our great tour of New Zealand in the same way as we would have done pre-earthquake. We’d searched carefully for accommodation that said it was away from the earthquake hit areas, but here we were, right in the city, a block from some of the worst devastation.<br />
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We dumped our bags, then headed out to have a look around and get some food for dinner. We had only been walking for a minute or two when we saw fencing along the pavement - looking through we saw a church, closed since February 2011, the walls cracked and damaged, with Mary standing facing it, as if assessing the damage, made quite a statement. On the opposite side of the road was a motel, open for business with it’s vacancy sign burning bright, while the four houses standing right next to it were surrounded by more fencing, massive cracks visible right through the middle of each roof, the blackened evidence of a fire that had burned inside stood out stark against the white wall, while a recovery worker was busy at the front of the building.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZUStW_uRyxV6fDvd_i3J8S9yI_0Zxqcs6KT-yCoNW23l0Ab5vXbD21gyUxn4P8ZyAYDPTlGdUmGaHS91R8Y_-t49AZ2KxWM0UMUCMXwL5lU6fReWFlxwVHFIcIijb62pTWp9Oidw_BU/s1600/roof+damage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfZUStW_uRyxV6fDvd_i3J8S9yI_0Zxqcs6KT-yCoNW23l0Ab5vXbD21gyUxn4P8ZyAYDPTlGdUmGaHS91R8Y_-t49AZ2KxWM0UMUCMXwL5lU6fReWFlxwVHFIcIijb62pTWp9Oidw_BU/s400/roof+damage.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The motel next door was open for business - it amazed me how often we saw buildings standing shoulder to shoulder, one apparently unscathed while the other was a crumbling wreck</td></tr>
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It was confronting. A few weeks ago, on the first anniversary of Christchurch’s big earthquake, we watched When a City Falls by Gerard Smyth, which was an excellent documentary showing the devastation through the eyes of a Christchurch local, and of course I had seen the news reports when the earthquakes happened, but nothing could have prepared me for the city that we were starting to see. When I was chatting to our motel owner later, he pointed out that the media shows images of the same buildings over and over again, leading us to assume that the worst of the damage is limited to those few buildings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBwRVd-S7lT-O3vwDoXK-TLNIMSrhSSxYSP-5JDI-ITSvh9ObCi-mgSRiiWaO_QxuIoC3xnltlBA9sfUNrsLf-guCjTVGzc-8NW7wwlBmuRBQTG-H1asktoo7DWmxWtWa_xGyB0xZQjY/s1600/damaged+shop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHBwRVd-S7lT-O3vwDoXK-TLNIMSrhSSxYSP-5JDI-ITSvh9ObCi-mgSRiiWaO_QxuIoC3xnltlBA9sfUNrsLf-guCjTVGzc-8NW7wwlBmuRBQTG-H1asktoo7DWmxWtWa_xGyB0xZQjY/s400/damaged+shop.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the games machines were still inside</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-7CJN75Yf6q8BrmZy6DmSoiVoJFL6rFWSn0Wjquc-tm3TTSA_Mcwy3sMR5QKCYjS4OZvffAFdo0o0AZ_wMci3rHf-vr5SMfVCbY9wvPNKlgYCUXF-EquOiTCvkth7p25rsVvm0fw7Vw/s1600/highst.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-7CJN75Yf6q8BrmZy6DmSoiVoJFL6rFWSn0Wjquc-tm3TTSA_Mcwy3sMR5QKCYjS4OZvffAFdo0o0AZ_wMci3rHf-vr5SMfVCbY9wvPNKlgYCUXF-EquOiTCvkth7p25rsVvm0fw7Vw/s400/highst.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The area behind High Street - previously a major shopping area in Christchurch</td></tr>
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<br />
We continued on, soon coming up against more fencing; this time it shut off entire streets, cordoning the red zone. In front of us was the Crown Plaza hotel, and although it was Friday evening, there was still a team working away, meticulously pulling the unsafe building apart one small step after another. There were a couple of people standing by watching; locals, I assumed, looks of awe on their faces, maybe they were visiting memories of happier times, maybe they were recalling the chaos of that fateful day, or maybe, like us, they were trying to wrap their heads around what they were seeing.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq7TdPvGYPiOo2UKn-iVz6LAPlTr4CnOhLmpwZ_HXFGjJk6xWOwutV4OCFwezM8De6bJwHLHUrWOEVUNyDACHrsOlDRwAzUYxWwK03AZEZlInHqxnyp5sqF4SswiFX7zWmwMkVSWG0P2A/s1600/offices.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq7TdPvGYPiOo2UKn-iVz6LAPlTr4CnOhLmpwZ_HXFGjJk6xWOwutV4OCFwezM8De6bJwHLHUrWOEVUNyDACHrsOlDRwAzUYxWwK03AZEZlInHqxnyp5sqF4SswiFX7zWmwMkVSWG0P2A/s400/offices.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smashed windows, wooden boards and fencing were a feature around most of the streets of the CBD</td></tr>
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We walked on, skirting the perimeter of the red zone, walking carefully over cracked, raised pavements, all around us evidence of the day that Christchurch fell; broken windows, abandoned offices and the tell tale spray paint of the rescue teams who painstakingly combed the city looking for survivors in the days after.<br />
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It was Friday evening, a time when you would expect bars around a city centre to be heaving with office workers, keen to shrug off the working week and loosen their ties in preparation for the weekend ahead. The place was like a ghost town. Apart from the constant clunk and whir of machinery, the odd small group of tourists doing roughly the same as we were, and one or two people scurrying home at the end of their day, there was no other evidence of life. Our idea of getting dinner was fast becoming a ridiculous notion - we walked for almost two hours, admittedly with stops to gaze with wonder, before we found a Subway which was open and sold us what would become dinner.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixiF3u1H7OvoPyPlDCfGt4Kfp2MRKZxW0dAabFpd6XD099SD5YbmKrJUcXhFSHvSf4k4g7E_VsWX_C7sSMGOnc-mV3CGsfCe-n2g5FrPry9IFzIwyUOKqYK9Z9QymIGzkAosgEd-EFiHQ/s1600/mar+490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixiF3u1H7OvoPyPlDCfGt4Kfp2MRKZxW0dAabFpd6XD099SD5YbmKrJUcXhFSHvSf4k4g7E_VsWX_C7sSMGOnc-mV3CGsfCe-n2g5FrPry9IFzIwyUOKqYK9Z9QymIGzkAosgEd-EFiHQ/s400/mar+490.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sun going down in the red zone - the sparkle on the pavement is broken glass, still lying there since the quake</td></tr>
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<br />
One thing that I found particularly striking was the feeling that all this had just happened yesterday - peering through one section of fence would reveal smashed glass and crumbled concrete, look up and you would see smashed windows, curtains or blinds gently fluttering in the breeze, and everywhere was evidence of time stopping; posters advertising 2011 events, a set of flowerpots on a balcony which had clearly fallen over with the earthquake and their owner never been back inside to pick them up, and desks, stacked high with papers, chairs flung back as their occupants fled, thirteen months ago.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEial4Eb1dJ71MFpmMYyI8kK5oynKUXb1kkWWOsFrouGzNGGj9Bdb0AX5RjW4xFM2N16gsorJJbYSVONRslMDiIakXVxx87BcghBgHwvVgYun-gNklVjnb4RwONsohH4epE_eguR12GdCU0/s1600/yellow+house.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEial4Eb1dJ71MFpmMYyI8kK5oynKUXb1kkWWOsFrouGzNGGj9Bdb0AX5RjW4xFM2N16gsorJJbYSVONRslMDiIakXVxx87BcghBgHwvVgYun-gNklVjnb4RwONsohH4epE_eguR12GdCU0/s400/yellow+house.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Many of the abandoned houses have ladders hanging from the upper floors </td></tr>
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All of this adds to the feeling of being in a ghost town, but much more than that, it gives a glimpse of the panic of the moment, and acts as a poignant reminder of just how much the earthquake devastated the city - we saw people working every moment we were there, and yet a whole year plus hadn’t been enough time for them to reach these areas, to fix these things. Being so soon after the one year anniversary, we saw dedications attached to fences and lamposts of those who had died near that spot. I was moved to tears several times.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-uzX3cZVb6SY4z2SV9Na_X0ZQJmzyrBOgOaBSnK0Vu3W1VDRX1kdAs-hmQ2RHeAwWfUSgUePf_InOjhpQcrKc-gNkITDVPGsydxc-gHz33dax10B0U4_sGlDcKyc2CAHS3nMgD5ExdI/s1600/flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-uzX3cZVb6SY4z2SV9Na_X0ZQJmzyrBOgOaBSnK0Vu3W1VDRX1kdAs-hmQ2RHeAwWfUSgUePf_InOjhpQcrKc-gNkITDVPGsydxc-gHz33dax10B0U4_sGlDcKyc2CAHS3nMgD5ExdI/s400/flowers.jpg" width="208" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Looking at the flower tributes on the perimeter fence</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7tsWFA1U-p-t5qniUdHYOjW16_Ht41xs8iZhfO0TklT3iqVjJu3RVMzMRV0IA1u3FbTNsDmv-BItaVObMqG3SJXsa3LnmiZ-ZCNrBy_xXSgCfa2ol22VTWRiNygbt-GGFAHRolOzkrY/s1600/lamppost.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW7tsWFA1U-p-t5qniUdHYOjW16_Ht41xs8iZhfO0TklT3iqVjJu3RVMzMRV0IA1u3FbTNsDmv-BItaVObMqG3SJXsa3LnmiZ-ZCNrBy_xXSgCfa2ol22VTWRiNygbt-GGFAHRolOzkrY/s400/lamppost.jpg" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I found these flowers particularly moving - for the lives lost on a bus - one of the tributes was for a young boy</td></tr>
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<br />
We walked the entire perimeter of the red zone, and returned to our motel weary. Only one of us fell asleep easily, and slept soundly.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYtQfOrSXQ1s3bP3DxXE1XuRkqQPhGd0ZdqKaKjdpfKAkpmvaxVx8_0vH741ymf8CyDemH6fgzfOeGP6-_Sq8_lKAJJQaCnNIV1qQ9txi0yXF2xGRxUAIevl0cjE6-em9XWrMv__TYx8/s1600/popup+shops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYtQfOrSXQ1s3bP3DxXE1XuRkqQPhGd0ZdqKaKjdpfKAkpmvaxVx8_0vH741ymf8CyDemH6fgzfOeGP6-_Sq8_lKAJJQaCnNIV1qQ9txi0yXF2xGRxUAIevl0cjE6-em9XWrMv__TYx8/s400/popup+shops.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pop up shops - made from shipping containers - ingenious!</td></tr>
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The next morning, we packed up and left our motel and then drove to the other side of the city centre, to an area known as the pop up mall. We’d walked through it the previous evening and were so impressed - it’s a street of shops, banks and food outlets made entirely from shipping containers which has sprung up since the earthquake. It’s ingenious and I love it. We were looking for a farmers market that was rumoured to have started up near there. I’m so glad that we did return there - the area was buzzing, alive with people of all ages, going about there Saturday mornings and blowing life into Christchurch.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOtU0OeZVkiyNr-aqg_1jFe_ePtWXk2uVwhncThzcG9C8ba-3j7NexzF6VkunXZdZN2WjdP3Q_rzoSa1R_i7jpDXL2wUdJjtmYJRahQlOmOOAH9PKuiDqQI5jZdoPHy0Y835oKhJ_i24/s1600/popup+morning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgOtU0OeZVkiyNr-aqg_1jFe_ePtWXk2uVwhncThzcG9C8ba-3j7NexzF6VkunXZdZN2WjdP3Q_rzoSa1R_i7jpDXL2wUdJjtmYJRahQlOmOOAH9PKuiDqQI5jZdoPHy0Y835oKhJ_i24/s400/popup+morning.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pop up mall was alive with people on Saturday morning. We joined the queue of people to the left.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We didn’t find the market, but we did find a massive queue of people snaking through the mall, and moving forward at a reasonable speed. Remembering what another tourist had said to me the night before - that the red zone was being opened up for public access this weekend - we joined the throngs, and before we knew it, we were working our way through the usually out of bounds streets to the infamous Christchurch Cathedral.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6hnkw4oGl4zB0EPfqnTo_CqhnADErbUKEjvQ-xOTuE7mJx3rX2QCucok_JSJPkN3iFdeUPsNqLnHMfmvUAmObNH50oDvRP4yQVby4RMmce-Q4ADjdCO7Rh21pLhz6rFRwmQwViJRZH0/s1600/cathedral.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif6hnkw4oGl4zB0EPfqnTo_CqhnADErbUKEjvQ-xOTuE7mJx3rX2QCucok_JSJPkN3iFdeUPsNqLnHMfmvUAmObNH50oDvRP4yQVby4RMmce-Q4ADjdCO7Rh21pLhz6rFRwmQwViJRZH0/s400/cathedral.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christchurch Cathedral</td></tr>
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<br />
Turning the corner and seeing what is left of the Cathedral for the first time was a humbling moment, seeing the people of Christchurch going through this same passage much more so. The pathway to Cathedral Square was hushed and thoughtful, in spite of the huge number of people walking along. But the atmosphere in the Square was different; uplifting, and a definite positive vibe. It was an amazing thing to be standing in the middle of, to be a part of. I’m so glad that we returned in the morning, that we were able to feel the positive vibe that the people of Christchurch were living by and feel the life and soul of the city.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmQBj-cnS1tW-6Qifr_doQvR3y89gzIPJBm9vX3Ti4JxoKlFiyQTcMShugl49-K5EsURY06Rhcht6Oew9rdW2KMwFs4_uFQU8z56IPLUeM-zGX5goyaNKvWbJknDFZGnPGV8mNGUU3sw/s1600/wizard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBmQBj-cnS1tW-6Qifr_doQvR3y89gzIPJBm9vX3Ti4JxoKlFiyQTcMShugl49-K5EsURY06Rhcht6Oew9rdW2KMwFs4_uFQU8z56IPLUeM-zGX5goyaNKvWbJknDFZGnPGV8mNGUU3sw/s400/wizard.jpg" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Christchurch wizard had plenty to say, and people were gathered around him listening</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHDxoa2_DJHHcUrL4POtIpCWmje2qvie99xAqS2keRSLpHPYKarKqV3HOQacfZFkuM66n-ED9LbXBUNMCdfYS8douhaGhnMFgaiAFAD_AQxgPQiGujo8Sm8Hs3OLgBaJYTnCE2EXvue1A/s1600/yellowribbon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHDxoa2_DJHHcUrL4POtIpCWmje2qvie99xAqS2keRSLpHPYKarKqV3HOQacfZFkuM66n-ED9LbXBUNMCdfYS8douhaGhnMFgaiAFAD_AQxgPQiGujo8Sm8Hs3OLgBaJYTnCE2EXvue1A/s400/yellowribbon.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yellow ribbons inscribed with messages of hope </td></tr>
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<br />
Visiting Christchurch was an overwhelmingly sobering experience, a stark blast of reality that shook us right to our roots and made us shed tears, sit up and pay attention. After 24 hours, we were ready to leave, the weight of sadness bore heavy on our hearts. I have so much admiration for the people of Christchurch; they show such strength and durability as a community. Shining through the dust covered rubble, I could see glimmers of the city that was, and signs of a city that will rebuild itself. I saw a city that I would have loved to visit, and from everyone I spoke to I sensed a determination that one day Christchurch will be that same place again. And I look forward to returning some day soon.<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com6Christchurch, New Zealand-43.5320544 172.6362254-43.7154184 172.3203684 -43.3486904 172.9520824tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-72570583175508052432012-03-16T03:42:00.000-07:002012-03-18T01:23:23.818-07:00Accommodation blunders in Christchurch<br />
We arrived in Christchurch from Greymouth, via scenic Arthur’s Pass (which from now on shall be known to us as bumble bee alley, but I'll have to come back to that one day), and headed to the accommodation that Mr T had booked a few days ago. After he’d booked it, we’d received an info sheet that explained that the house was actually an old truck, and that linen was not included - no problem, I popped into The Warehouse and bought some discounted bed sheets and we were quite excited at the prospect of staying in a ‘van’. Plus the views in the photographs looked stunning!<br />
<br />
We skirted the edge of the city and headed through a few suburbs where we started to see hints of earthquake damage - uneven road surfaces and cracked pavement edges, a closed school, then half-houses, with their insides hanging out, hanging off cliffs. Many of the roads around the cliff walls were lined with stacked containers - I assume to act as a barrier. A few times Gipps sent us down a road, only to find that it had been cordoned off, so we would have to find another way around. It was a sobering experience.<br />
<br />
We made our way up the hillside, commenting that there was something comforting about being at the top of the hill, and knowing there was nothing else above us. We turned into the road we were staying in and down quite a steep hill, to the very end of the cul de sac and down a steep driveway. ‘Ýou have reached your destination’ said Gipps. Standing before us was our home for the next three days, clinging to the edge of the cliff , attached by some sturdy looking guide ropes to the rocky surface around it. It had the most magnificent views out to sea. And it terrified me beyond belief; I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be clinging to the edge of a cliff in an area that had been devastated by a major earthquake just a year ago..<br />
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We found the keys and let ourselves in - it was gorgeous and cute and I loved it. But I was finding it hard to take it all in beyond the cacophony of alarm bells which were blasting in my head. ‘A campervan!’ exclaimed the Littlest Hobo, ‘I love it! Where’s my bedroom?’ I glanced up at the mattress suspended in the ‘master mezzanine’ above our heads, as she and Mr T went off to find her bedroom. At the end of the truck, at the same level as the hanging mattress was a small door, high up in the wall above our heads, with a ladder below it. Mr T climbed up and pulled it open to reveal a bedroom fit for a princess, and they both bounded up the ladder enthusiastically. <br />
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I sat on the staircase that led from the entry level up five or six unguarded steps to the raised living area, looking down at the unguarded wood burner by my feet. I listened to their happy chatter, as I took in every toddler-unsafe area and tried to imagine sleeping here over night, with the littlest hobo in a separate area to us; an area that was accessible only by a two or so metre drop to the floor. It was blowing a gale outside, and the house was gently jostled by the wind. I sat and imagined how it would feel if we experienced one of the aftershocks that I had heard so much about the people of the city living through. I sat and imagined trying to sleep.<br />
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I glanced out of the window again at the unimaginably beautiful seascape, and noticed the cliff walk three or four metres in front of the truck. The info pack had mentioned a walk at the edge of the property that had been closed since the earthquake. I loved and feared this little place with each shaky breath I took. Mr T and the Littlest Hobo appeared in front of me, she was so excited. Í can’t do it’ I said to Mr T. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvqLrpHUdeDGFXT9YBRfUxRn4qZ2PN50usmVHD3dyEQ82kgtYNZVqcAnuazOfwvu3hYoTZH499lpmTcB0lExLktkgXVXnfwD7io38SUhOVCL6SuhiIFiNp4n1jdU-YuUgeYgQfM8OpKQ/s1600/van.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvqLrpHUdeDGFXT9YBRfUxRn4qZ2PN50usmVHD3dyEQ82kgtYNZVqcAnuazOfwvu3hYoTZH499lpmTcB0lExLktkgXVXnfwD7io38SUhOVCL6SuhiIFiNp4n1jdU-YuUgeYgQfM8OpKQ/s400/van.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
So we replaced the key, got in the car and drove, in search of a motel. I think the Littlest Hobo thought I was joking - she kept saying ‘no, we <i>are</i> staying here’ and ‘no, we love our campervan’ and I felt quite stupid - wondering if I was being all over the top and unnecessarily cautious when so many of the people of Christchurch have been living with conditions probably far more terrifying than this since February 2011. But I felt more comfortable with my decision than I did stupidity or disappointment at my wussiness, or frustration at wasting so much money. So we found a motel for the night, negotiated a relatively reasonable rate, and headed off to explore Christchurch. But that, my friends, is a story for another time.<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com6Christchurch, New Zealand-43.5320544 172.6362254-43.7154184 172.3203684 -43.3486904 172.9520824tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-67330571191238074142012-03-14T17:13:00.001-07:002012-03-14T17:13:39.024-07:00Travel inertia<br />
A couple of days ago we were hit by an attack of travel inertia. I had expected this to happen, but not so soon (three weeks) into our New Zealand adventure. When we were travelling through Europe last year, we learnt that travelling slower works better for us; seeing fewer places, but getting to know them more intimately, and from reading other travelling families blogs, I’ve found that this seems to be a trend when travelling with young kids.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWDzdZy_uBuop6QFrGg-2xduHRlqrpW-PIWuADLEkOcL-RNGh6V7cGu5BeAT2cl2FB3oTbz69hiU4gwhQocXuAhsp9-a7Ac4heoYHV5nTKXSnjaafheAyNNcjiG1biMvi83gEg4Av_D0/s1600/glenorchy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWDzdZy_uBuop6QFrGg-2xduHRlqrpW-PIWuADLEkOcL-RNGh6V7cGu5BeAT2cl2FB3oTbz69hiU4gwhQocXuAhsp9-a7Ac4heoYHV5nTKXSnjaafheAyNNcjiG1biMvi83gEg4Av_D0/s400/glenorchy.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The drive to Glenorchy was simply stunning - wouldn't have missed it for any amount of upheaval!</td></tr>
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But New Zealand is jam packed full of awe inspiring natural wonders dotted here there and everywhere across the country. The last few days, we’ve seen some amazing sights, but we’ve also covered a large number of kilometres, and we’ve been staying in places for one or two nights, taking things out the car, putting them back in, repacking bags so that we don’t need to get them all out at every stop.<br />
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As far as accommodation goes, it’s proved to be more costly than we expected (or than a certain unnamed popular guide book led us to believe), maybe partly due to the fact that we haven't keen to stay in youth hostels as the shared kitchen facilities make us nervous with the littlest hobo’s nut allergy (although I've just booked our first one to give it a try next week - watch this space!). But that means that I’m feeling a bit of frustration that we could have afforded a campervan after all, thus avoiding the constant bed hopping and lack of a firm base. Every time another motor home pulls up beside us in a car park (and believe me, there are so many there’s a very high chance of it…) we enviously check out their digs with a few sideways glances and marvel at how marvellous that particular one must be.<br />
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To top it all off, a couple of nights ago the Littlest Hobo was restless in the evening and started complaining of a sore tummy. As I was cuddling her, sitting in the bed that we were going to share that night, she vomited in a much more voluminous and projectile manner than I had even known before in her short life. Of course we were at a farmstay where we were only staying one night, there were no spare sheets in the cabin, and our spare pj’s were in one of the suitcases we’d left in the car, which was accessible only by being attacked by twenty thousand sandflies, so it all turned into a bit of a debacle, which we sorted in the end, but needless to say, it’s not what you need at 10pm in an unfamiliar place.<br />
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So when we arrived in the little cabin in Greymouth that we are currently staying in, we heaved a sigh of relief, filled the washing machine and swore that we were never travelling again. Once the littlest hobo was snuggled up in her bed we opened the maps and tore apart our plans for the next two and a half weeks until we meet our friends for Easter, taking out the stops that we’d been so keen to take and instead replacing them with a couple of days with long drives with a week in one place and a week in another. We came up with three different options and on a last minute whim, while we were trying to decide which of the two simpler routes we would take, I said ‘let’s sleep on it and make a decision by tomorrow night’.<br />
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I woke to a crisp sunny morning, opened the curtains and looked out to the ocean. There was a whole world out there and it was very inviting. I sat down with the guide books and read a little about the areas we had been trying to decide about, then when Mr T got up we made a plan for our day. We decided to keep it low key; a well needed rest day, stick to the cabin for the morning, let the Littlest Hobo play with her toys and dance around to her music while we made our final decision so that when we headed into Greymouth in the afternoon we could find some internet access and start making bookings. The thing is, a good nights sleep and the promise of a day off had changed my mind, and I was all set to go with the original plan. Lucky for me , I didn’t need to call on my persuasion skills too much - Mr T really wanted to see some of the stops we had planned too. So it’s back to our first route, minus a stop or two, and I’m sure we’ll get fed up with the moving around again before we get to stop for a longer period, but we just need to keep reminding ourselves that this is our big chance to do it, so it’s now or never! <br />
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On a side note, we’ve booked our flights to Hawaii from here, and we’re just about to start planning our Canada/US adventure. We’ll have approximately 12 weeks from start to finish and we need to start on the West Coast (either San Diego or Vancouver looking most likely, as there are people we want to see in each of them) and we have flights booked out of Washington DC. I’m hoping we’ll be able to do it in a campervan this time, but we’re still working out the logistics and budget etc. Any suggestions of anywhere we mustn’t miss would be most welcome at this stage!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com0Greymouth 7805, New Zealand-42.4503925 171.2107623-42.544123 171.0528338 -42.356662 171.3686908tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-36744421947609672512012-03-08T01:57:00.000-08:002012-03-08T21:08:19.828-08:00An abundance of nature's wonders in the Catlins<br />
The sparsely populated Catlins is located on the far south eastern corner of New Zealand’s South Island. Named after Captain Cattlin who bought a section of the land from local Maori in 1840, the rugged coastline and mountainous landscape dare you to explore one natural wonder after another - each time thinking that <i>this</i> must be the reason that people visit.<br />
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We booked ourselves in at <b>Nadir Outpost at Slope Point</b> - which stakes claim for the most southerly accommodation of mainland New Zealand; nestled in the hills with sheep ambling past our window and, it seemed during our stay, a permanent gale blowing outside, we felt a million miles from anyone. I was lucky to witness a sensational sunrise from our accommodation, I awoke to a pink hue which intensified as I dragged myself out of the warm bed and into the Baltic morning air with the ten thousand curious sheep (there are definite benefits to pulling your jeans on over your pj‘s when it‘s that cold), well worth the effort to see a rainbow, which landed just at the point that two rolling hills intercepted; it was simply stunning, but gone in seconds, and while I was quick enough to grab my camera, I wasn’t fast enough to whip out my tripod, which was necessary to do any real justice to the beautiful start to my day.<br />
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We stayed for 2 nights, and although we didn’t see every single sight the Catlins had to offer, we left feeling that we’d ‘done’ the region and could tick it off our list. The Catlins is remote, and we’d been forewarned to take enough fuel, food and cash for our visit as they’re not particularly readily available once you get there. We travelled from North to South, which for some reason seemed to be the opposite direction from all the guidebooks I consulted, but that seemed to make no odds, and there seemed to be an equal number of people travelling in each direction..<br />
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The first attraction we hit after entering the region was <b>Nugget Point</b>, where we took a short walk to a lighthouse adorned headland to warn passing ships of the picturesque rocky protrusions in the swirling waters below. The path is quite open in places and the drop down the sheer cliff faces to the rocks below, where we spotted Yellow-Eyed Penguins frolicking, made me glad that the littlest hobo is generally happy to walk next to us and hold hands - I suspect I would feel quite nervous taking a more inquisitive toddler down this track… a theme that developed as our time in the Catlins continued - there are some nerve-racking paths around, but I am fairly confident that's the reason this place is so beautiful.<br />
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We munched our lunch in the car (the littlest hobo managed to contain her disappointment that chicken nuggets hadn't materialised from the sea...) in what is becoming our standard fashion when the weather isn't conducive to an outdoor picnic, with the littlest hobo using the car as a jungle gym while we urge her to sit still until she's swallowed her mouthful. A coffee stop is an unwritten rule in our travel day, so when we unexpectedly passed a curious looking collection advertising coffee, we did a u-turn and ordered our daily caffeine fix. I'm glad we did because it turned out we'd stopped at the <b>Lost Gypsy Cafe</b> - a collection of ingenious inventions made from trinkets that others would most likely toss out with the trash, self-labeled 'fine acts of junk' all gathered in a groovy old bus. We grabbed our coffees and spent half an hour or so looking around. We would have paid the extra $5 each to look around the gallery, but little kids weren't allowed in, so we continued on with our journey.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLajNyYWxrIRC7JjdkhqW-2drxafG7BMTXye1HmkGtKfybufCm_6AocQPGp9SLBokXVm2hWZX7XWA-RxWJS6yiHu4oRwiuzBSTZBuCNP_jCDK0JLlVm43cwgLyc94rNkvgm3EIzEOwDjQ/s1600/gypsy_picnik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLajNyYWxrIRC7JjdkhqW-2drxafG7BMTXye1HmkGtKfybufCm_6AocQPGp9SLBokXVm2hWZX7XWA-RxWJS6yiHu4oRwiuzBSTZBuCNP_jCDK0JLlVm43cwgLyc94rNkvgm3EIzEOwDjQ/s400/gypsy_picnik.jpg" width="322" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hobo, meet gypsy....</td></tr>
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With the satnav claiming we still had a few hours to go (luckily we have now realised that a gravel road en route means that Gipps, as it is affectionately known, assumes that you will drive at 10km per hour) and the day drawing on, we debated whether we should really do another stop, but the weather forecast for the next day was rain, rain and more rain, so we pulled off the main road and headed to <b>McLean Falls</b> - in spite of it being the furthest walk of all the falls, we could hardly drive by a place with such a cool name. We weren't disappointed... while the walk was challenging at times and I wished more than once that I'd invested in some hiking boots, when we got to the top, the falls were spectacular.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mclean Falls - she's not keeling over with boredom, honestly!</td></tr>
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The next morning brought the predicted rain, that started soon after we rose, and continued all day. We headed to <b>Curio Bay</b> and <b>Porpoise Bay</b>, where we sat in the car looking out into the bay at the choppy waters in the hope that me might spot a dolphin through the heavy rain that was lashing the windows. When a lull came, we made a dash and spent a short while clambering around on the rocks at the petrified forest - we weren't lucky enough to spot any of the local wildlife (sea lions and penguins frequent the area) but the fossilised logs and rockpools were interesting to explore.<br />
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We gave up battling the downpour and made a beeline for the <b>Niagara Falls cafe</b> - I couldn't believe how many good write ups I'd read about this place, and we had to give it a try. The cafe is in an old school house and sells local crafts alongside the cafe - it was a great environment to sit and warm up/dry out while we watched the animals wander by the windows and a stream of hungry locals and tourists arrive for lunch. The food was delicious and filling; I ordered a bowl of seafood chowder and I struggled to finish it.<br />
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We battled over whether to do our next activity, as it was pouring with rain and we weren't very well prepared, but I am so glad that in the end we braved the rain because we had such a huge <b><a href="http://twoandahalftravellers.blogspot.co.nz/2012/03/recapturing-sense-of-adventure-at.html" target="_blank">adventure at Cathedral Caves</a>.</b><br />
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You can drive for half an hour in the Catlins without seeing another soul on the road, but at the same time, you will find that as there's an obvious tourist trail, you will tend to the the same people as you move from one of nature's great wonders to another. Having said that, it's certainly not crowded, and you can be standing with ten people around you one minute, then turn around to find you are all alone with only the bird song and the crash of waves to keep you company the next. There is undeniably a disproportionate number of sheep to people in the area - so much so that at long last and after several long months (since our trip to Ireland, to be precise) the littlest hobo has tired of shouting 'baaaaaaa' in a somewhat startling manner every time she sees a field full of the fleecy coated little creatures.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaa</td></tr>
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There are lots of short (ranging from ten minutes to an hour) walks, which make it really attractive with a toddler, and some of the tracks are even stroller friendly too. I would definitely advocate a trip to the Catlins on a South Island tour, and there's too much to see in one day. We found that two days in the Catlins was perfect - we had something to do the whole time we were there, and left with a sense of having seen plenty in the area too.<br />
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com1Slope Point Rd, Southland 9884, New Zealand-46.6652054 168.9714661-46.6869994 168.9319841 -46.6434114 169.01094809999998tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-75461183870169853932012-03-07T04:35:00.000-08:002012-03-08T01:39:32.032-08:00Recapturing a sense of adventure at Cathedral CavesWe'd usually do anything we could to avoid venturing out in the rain, so we were battling with what to do in the middle of a torrential downpour on our last afternoon in the Catlins. Top of my list for our time in the region was a visit to Cathedral Caves, but a one hour round trip in the pouring rain with our less than adequate wet weather gear and footwear was less than appealing.<br />
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We drove to the car park, ummed and ahhed, drove half way down the road back out again, then screeched to a halt (much to the joy of the campervan behind us) pulled up our big girl panties and did a u-ey. With the caves only accessible two hours either side of low tide, this was our one and only chance - two and a half travellers were going down the mountain.<br />
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We parked Jucy and I ran over to pay the meagre entrance fee, while Mr T got the littlest hobo dressed in her decontamination suit (otherwise known as puddle suit and wellie boots). The attendant assured me that we'd be fine in our trainers, but warned me that we may need a torch at the back of the caves - we didn't have one. So we shrugged and made for the path. Under the canopy of the mountainside forest, the walkway down to the beach was a breeze, keeping the wind, and the majority of the rain, at bay - I kept glancing down at people's feet as we crossed paths, glad to see that they weren't knee deep in mud spatters or one shoe down on their way back up.<br />
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When we reached the beach, the rain had dulled to what Peter Kay refers to as 'that fine rain that get's you wet right through'. We headed across the sand in the same direction as the people ahead of us, noting that on a nicer day, this would be the perfect beach to linger on, and after a few minutes we reached the entrance to the caves, most apparent for the ten or so people hovering around the mouth, posing with cameras and looking up at the jaw dropping rock formations in front of them. It was pretty impressive.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those two tiny smudges in the light area are people... these caves were HUGE!</td></tr>
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I think it was the size that first struck me - i just hadn't realised that they'd be so big. And I'd imagined the cathedral-like shape to have been formed by looking at a large rock next to a cliff, when in fact this was two mammoth caverns, seperated by a rocky outcrop at the front, but joined at the back, where they tunnel back deep into the rock cliff face - it was quite amazing really.<br />
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We ventured inside, and were distracted from the awe of the place for a minute or two by a dead possum lying on the sandy floor of the caves, which had been suitably commemorated by a visitor. I stopped to take a photo, and when I looked up, Mr T and the littlest hobo had disappeared into the darkness at the back of the caves. I hovered nervously, suddenly acutely aware of my echoing surroundings, and that the only other person who had been in the caves had also vanished into the milky darkness...surely they would reappear in a minute or two.<br />
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They didn't. I called out. No response. I felt very alone, and somewhat stupid, standing in this cave, with the tide creeping ever nearer, waiting for my family to reappear. I took a deep breath and realised that I was going into the darkness too - my little girl and my husband were in there somewhere! I advanced slowly, and stumbled over a mass of seaweed. Suddenly, I heard the littlest hobo's voice ahead of me - I called out to them and in an unusual moment of ingenuity started to use the autofocus button on my camera, which couldn't focus in the dark, to set of the flash, lighting the way with a series of explosions of light, enough to see Mr T scrabbling around on the floor a few metres ahead of me.<br />
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The littlest hobo had dropped one of her boots in probably the furthest point you could reach back into the cave. I cursed myself for buying her black boots. But using the light from the flash we found it, replaced it, and made for the front of the cave down the second path - the opposite one to our entry route. This space was even more spectacular than the first - whether it was our approach to it - from the darkness into the light, or the formation that the rocks had taken on from the continuous pounding of the waves; standing in this monstorous cavern left us completely awe-inspired once again at the wonder of nature's crafts.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favourite photos of all time - Mr T takes full credit for this one</td></tr>
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We spent a while taking it all in then took some photographs in this magical setting, running back into the cave as a particularly enthusiastic wave rolled towards us, and looking up just in time to see the other couple who had been standing close by wade around the entrance with their trousers rolled up to their knees. The tide was coming in, and we were standing all alone in the far cave.<br />
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Trying to keep our panic at bay (that was in the good parenting manual somewhere, right?) we backed up and watched the waves; the next few rolled in not far from where we were standing, and we thought about backing up into the cave again and coming around the other side. But mental images of the cave filling with water was enough to put me off that idea. I was reassuring myself that they had strict times when you could visit the caves to keep people safe, and we were still an hour before closing time. Suddenly there was an ebb in the waves, and we made a run for it, shoes soaking and spray flying into our faces, round the rock until we reached the other entrance, where people were still casually ambling into the caves, dry footed and definitely in no danger of that changing any time in the near future. I felt silly again. But the thrill of the adventure had been so exhilarating, and we headed up the beach, laughing, smiling, and with our hearts pumping and feet squelching.<br />
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A visit to Cathedral Caves? Yes definitely. In the rain? Don't let it stop you. With a toddler? They'll love the adventure (just as long as you're ready for them to hitch a ride with you back up the mountainside). I'd go so far as to say that if the Catlins wasn't on your South Island itinerary, you should think about adding it just so that you can visit cathedral caves.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com0Catlins Lake, Otago 9586, New Zealand-46.4787927 169.6388128-46.5006617 169.59933080000002 -46.4569237 169.6782948tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-37636450904831257442012-02-29T11:05:00.001-08:002012-03-07T01:11:53.792-08:00Dunedin with a toddler - lots to love<div>
We’ve just spent the first week of our three month New Zealand tour in Dunedin. It turned out it wasn’t enough time to experience all that the small city in the South West corner of the South Island has to offer, but realistically our budget wouldn’t have run to it all anyway, and we gave it a pretty good run for our money. Here’s a few highlights that helped to make our time there a great experience.</div>
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Sleepy <b>Dunedin International Airport</b> is 28km from the city centre with spectacular views over the mountains as you come in to land, what an exciting start to our trip! It’s quite a small airport so it’s quick to pass through and get on your way, and better still, we got a direct flight from Brisbane with Virgin Australia.</div>
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I hooked up with <b>Sarah Bond Travel Writer</b> through the travel community on Facebook and Twitter, and she gave me a personalised tour of Dunedin, meaning that I saw some of the hidden gems that other tourists would miss, we went at our own pace, and I got loads of history and info thrown in on the way. If you’re heading to Dunedin, and you know Sarah through the online travel community, I’d definitely give her a shout out!<br />
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I drank some really tasty coffee in a gloriously groovy environment at <b>Strictly Coffee</b>, hidden down a dingy back street. In keeping with it’s location, the façade is unassuming, but inside is a treasure trove of delights and the constant queue of locals is reassuringly welcoming. </div>
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<b>Discovery World</b> and the butterfly house at the Otago Museum is an absolute must for anyone with a child in Dunedin. There are loads of cool science experiments that are fun and educational, even when you’re knee high to a grasshopper, then you enter the butterfly house where you’re surrounded by a veritable flutter of foreign butterfly species, as well as a resident lizard, birds and some turtles.. The littlest hobo and I spent a good hour and a half in there and could have spent longer, had we not been heading off to reconvene with the third member of our travelling trio. </div>
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<b>Moana pool</b>, set high on the hill overlooking the city and the harbour below it, is the most fantastic swimming pool for toddlers. There is a leisure pool with a sloped entrance, a lazy river, sprays, and a wave machine, and a separate ‘learners pool’ aside from the other non-little person focussed areas. We really enjoyed spending a rainy morning here, getting wet inside rather than outside.</div>
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We loved the views at <b>Tunnel Beach</b>, even though the tide was so high when we visited that there was no beach to be seen (cue disappointed little girl…). The walk back up is a little steep for small legs (and unfit adults, ahem) which meant tired arms for Mr T by the time we reached the top, but it was a beautiful clear sunny day and gave us a great introduction to the local coastline.</div>
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We stumbled upon <b>Allan’s Beach</b> on the Otago Peninsula when we went for a drive on a rainy afternoon. The rain cleared as we were driving and we found ourselves in Portobello. A quick consult with the guide book pointed us in the direction of nearby Allan’s Beach, and after a short walk over Lord of the Rings-esque farmland we were really excited to find ourselves on a beautiful expansive beach along with a handful of other tourists and 5 sea lions, lazing in the sunshine. The wind blew away the earlier rain clouds, making for a blue sky afternoon and some interesting shapes being blown in the sand as we played on the shoreline.<br />
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The <b>suburb of St Clair</b> had lots of things we liked too - the heated salt water pool was a big hit with Mr T and the littlest hobo, and coffees in the adjoined coffee shop afterwards, with views of surfers scattered along the curved sandy bay to top it off. Mr t also attended one of Judith Cullen's cookery classes here (<i>somebody </i>bought him a really thoughtful valentines present this year!).
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We loved getting breakfast then schmoozing around the <b>farmers market a the station</b> on Saturday morning. We picked up some tasty local produce at great prices and there was a great atmosphere to soak up as we made our way through the throngs of locals and tourists alike. Then we headed along the platform and checked out the inside of the station which is rumoured to be the most photographed building in New Zealand.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Music to buy produce by, at the farmer's market</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.twoandahalftravellers.blogspot.co.nz/2012/02/standing-room-at-penguin-place.html" target="_blank">Our visit to Penguin Place</a> was a real treat; we were able to see endangered <b>Yellow-Eyed Penguins</b> up close in their natural habitat while leaving them relatively undisturbed. We were also lucky enough to see a group of young male seals lazing around on the rocks and grassy verges, doing what teenage boys do best!</div>
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There are so many things we didn’t fit into our visit, such as a wildlife trip out on the water, a ride on the Taieri Gorge railway, Speight’s Brewery and Cadbury’s World, but everything we did do made it a fun filled week, and it’s good to know that we have plenty to go back for next time too. </div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com3Dunedin, New Zealand-45.8787605 170.5027976-45.967197 170.3448691 -45.790324 170.6607261tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-72795007882086705732012-02-28T23:59:00.000-08:002012-02-29T00:34:45.103-08:00Standing room at Penguin Place<br />
Penguin Place, set on the breathtakingly beautiful Otago Peninsula near Dunedin, is a conservation reserve, dedicated to helping the endangered Yellow Eyed Penguin - apparently the most endangered penguin breed on the planet. The reserve gives walking tours in small groups, which get up close and personal to the penguins while allowing them to remain relatively undisturbed in their natural habitat, which were probably the most compelling reasons for us to choose this particular tour above the other options.<br />
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Entry, like so many places in New Zealand at the moment (due to exchange rates and a relatively buoyant economy compared to some other parts of the world right now), seemed quite steep initially, at $49 per adult (the littlest hobo was free) but when you start the tour and realise that the money raised from tours alone funds the entire facility, the charge seems quite justified and reasonable.<br />
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Our group listened to a short talk from Ainsley, our guide, about the penguins and the centre before walking over to the penguin hospital. The centre receives rescue penguins from a wide area, being the only one of it’s kind in the vicinity, and we were lucky to see several chicks as well as a couple of different breeds of rescue penguin too.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rescue penguin in the rehabilitation centre</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Yellow-eyed Penguin chick</td></tr>
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From the rehabilitation centre, we went on a short, bumpy bus ride across farmland, with spectacular views spanning both sides of the peninsula, to the penguin habitat. We’d only been off the bus and heading down the track for a couple of minutes before we turned the corner to find a penguin couple standing right in the middle of the path preening their moulting feathers - they were a new couple, but according to Ainsley, if they moult together, they often breed together too, so this was an exciting sight in terms of protecting the species, especially as currently, due to predators such as sea lions, numbers are on the decline.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The couple who moult together, mate together (hopefully)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monty the teenager with the distinctive Yellow-eyed Penguin markings on his face</td></tr>
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They seemed completely unphased by our presence and we all snapped away gleefully. We continued on our merry way, and seconds later we were treated to the sight of several male seals lolling round on the rocks, and another penguin ducking in and out of the long grass on the hillside, only a couple of metres from where we stood. It was amazing to stand so close to these creatures which we had only previously experienced in the zoo and they carried on as if we weren’t there.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing with the seals</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camera shy seal!</td></tr>
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Our tour took us down the hillside, past several penguin nesting boxes, most of which had penguins inside them to a series of bunkers leading to hides, which allowed us to get close to even more penguins while leaving them relatively undisturbed. We were lucky that most of the penguins we saw were standing - I got the impression that you would almost always see penguins on the tour, but the big deal is whether they’re standing or not; if they’re lying down it’s a bit like looking at randomly scattered rocks!</div>
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Visiting at this time of year was particularly cool because the penguins are moulting, and we saw fluffed up and partially balding penguins (the ‘ugly’ ones) right next to their beautifully sleek, neat and streamlined buddies with their distinctive yellow face markings at their very brightest (the ’pretty’ ones), who, it was incredible to hear, had been through the same appearance altering process just a couple of weeks earlier. </div>
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Mr T and I loved the tour and would definitely recommend it. It was an absolute treat to get up so close to these gorgeous little birds without disturbing them; we felt really privileged. The littlest really enjoyed it too, she coped really well with keeping quiet, loved seeing the wildlife and trotting along the trenches, and the amount of walking, with the exception of the hill at the end, was ok for her to manage or else wasn’t too much carrying for us (in the loosest sense of the word… I had the camera around my neck) when the slopes got a bit too challenging. </div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com2Otago Peninsula, 9077, New Zealand-45.8666667 170.6666667-45.877723700000004 170.6469257 -45.8556097 170.68640770000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-43129696463973441212012-02-18T05:47:00.000-08:002012-02-18T05:49:12.748-08:00Sydney stole my heart (and still won't hand it back)Mr Traveller has a theory - the Australian city you first arrive in (as a visitor) is the one that you feel the strongest affinity with. My first trip, in December 2004 was no exception. We arrived in the evening, and I was jet lagged and desperate for sleep, but the draw of the harbour was too much and we headed to Circular Quay for a nightcap and to bask in the breathtaking beauty before us. At that moment, I fell in love with Sydney; even though my eyes were drooping with the weight of too many sleepless hours on a plane, I couldn't tear them away from the spectacular view before me. We'd headed to Sydney to see how I felt about it; to see whether it would draw me in the way that it had Mr T, when he'd lived there as a backpacker a few years earlier - it did.<br />
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When we returned to live in 2007 (after another couple of visits), I was possibly even more spellbound with the city on the harbour, and launched into life there with gusto. We stayed for four and a half years, and there was never a day that I failed to be filled with wonder when I turned a corner to be greeted by the sight of the sparkling water glistening up at me. I never tired of jumping on a ferry to get somewhere and would opt to do so even if it took a bit longer than the bus. Unlike the majority of the people I meet, I'm not a fan of London or New York, I find them too big and impersonal and just not my cup of tea, but I love the size of Sydney - big enough to have everything you need and a whole lot more, but small enough to feel at home. It's touted as the city of villages, and that rings very true, individual pocket communities balanced around the glistening harbour and into the urban and suburban sprawl beyond, with their own distinct characters, but by and large co-existing peacefully makes for an extremely comfortable environment. </div>
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We're heading off to New Zealand next week, for the next part of our adventure, which I'm really excited about, but I couldn't let a visit to Australia slip by without some time in my favourite city in the world. So I packed my bags and waved goodbye to Mr T and the Littlest Hobo and took the short flight down. I've spent a fair amount of time in the Virgin Australia domestic terminal in my time, so arriving there was like coming home the moment that I stepped off the plane - a feeling that stayed with me for the entire visit. I made a beeline for the train and headed straight for Circular Quay - as it happened that tied in well with my transport needs, but even if it hadn't, I suspect I would have found myself there anyway. This is the way that everybody should arrive in Sydney for the first time, and if you are yet to visit, I urge you to choose this option. I checked the ferry times while I was on the train and knew I would have to dash to make the ferry, so I dug in my wallet for the ferry tickets that were still there from what had seemed mere minutes ago a dim and distant lifetime, and tore straight down to wharf 5 without a second thought that the departure wharves may have swapped around in the 8 months we'd been away - luckily they hadn't. </div>
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Once I'd made it onto the ferry - last passenger on - I found a spot outside and allowed myself to take it all in. The same sights, sounds and smells were still there under the cloudless blue sky, dazzling me as I shrugged on the old familiar overcoat that shrouds the most iconic coat hanger in the world. Sydney was back under my skin. </div>
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Not much has changed, and that is comforting and disturbing at the same time, because it makes it all the more comfortable to be there. I looked around me, as ever, seeing photographs to be made everywhere, and caught myself thinking that I'd come back and do it another day, when I had less to carry. It's hard not to get complacent when you are treated to such wondrous views on a daily basis and all too easily I appeared to have slipped back into that mantra. I didn't use my camera much - ultimately, I was there to visit friends, with a jam packed schedule, but I needed to remind myself that I wouldn't be going on a photography walk there next week or next month to avoid disappointment or regret later. </div>
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Seeing my Sydney friends was a delight. Being toddler-free gave me the chance to hop from suburb to suburb and stay with a different person every night, sleeping on couches and fitting into the daily swing of my buddies lives with the added benefit of the very warmest of welcomes home at the end of it all. I always say that one of the things that makes the UK appealing to me is the long time friendships that can't be replicated without time, and while that still holds true, catching up with people in Sydney confirmed that four and a half years is long enough to build some very special friendships too. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Captured with my iPhone, from Circular Quay station</td></tr>
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So after a couple of crazy but pleasure filled days, I performed what is becoming a ritual of sorts again today and stood on Circular Quay station, looking out at the bridge, the Opera House and the every day comings and goings on the water below. Drinking in everything in my view, and committing it once again to memory before turning on my heal and hopping on a train. Until next time Sydney, because while you still hold a piece of my heart, I can't be a stranger forever.</div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com0Circular Quay, Sydney NSW 2000, Australia-33.8618579 151.2105461-33.875043399999996 151.19080509999998 -33.8486724 151.2302871tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-3560640456038799232012-02-13T05:46:00.000-08:002012-02-13T05:59:17.849-08:00Picnic daysI love picnic days. The kind of day when you wake up with the sun shining in the sky, and you don't really have any plans, but you know you want to do something. They're brilliant for spontaneity, the best ones always seem to be those that you set out for ten minutes after deciding that that's what you plan to do. And they can be a great, budget friendly outing too from a sandwich and a bottle of water, to all out five star dining with chairs, fold away tables, toys and games and even your own bbq.<br />
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Having a picnic in Australia is all the more pleasurable, not only for the usually predictable sunny weather (I can hear everyone in Sydney at the moment groaning), but also for the provided facilities - many parks and beaches around the country are dotted with free to use bbq's, which are generally well maintained... just rock up and cook your food, all you need to do is clean the cooking surface before you leave, ready for the next person and to avoid temptation for the local wildlife.<br />
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Today was one of those days. It was warm when we woke. We had an appointment early this morning, but after that the day was ours and we didn't have any set plans. We've been into the centre of Brisbane quite a few times recently, so we wanted to go somewhere different. We've also spent quite a bit of money recently, so, mindful of our newly imposed budget, we wanted to keep costs low. And our nephew, who had to be at work at 5 this evening, was keen to come with us.<br />
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So we threw some salad and condiments into a cool bag, grabbed some plates and cutlery, a picnic blanket and a ball and jumped in the car. We stopped on the way for meat, bread and drinks, and headed to <a href="http://www.brisbane.qld.gov.au/facilities-recreation/parks-and-venues/parks/parks-by-suburb/seventeen-mile-rocks-parks/index.htm" target="_blank">Rocks Riverside Park</a> in Seventeen Mile Rocks. It's a beautiful, well maintained large park, by the river, with several bbq areas as well as a large play area and a kids water play area. Last time we went, on a weekend sometime last year, when we had to fight for parking and and a shady space to lay our picnic blanket, but today was different. There were only a handful of other people at the park, all using the water play area or the kids playground, so we headed straight for the barbie, where there wasn't a soul in sight, and got cooking.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB46xgizAXIJkZfo2bGu3cMAwQzEVOYRgb0ucl_s3S1XXRilmYGad3TZhp_BO11yzUSnExPDdCOV_rOXg6dga6FlDI8WRROY3KdgwgS1mmqPV357djGkgGxopLF6u5hhNiI6u8-mknEno/s1600/barbie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB46xgizAXIJkZfo2bGu3cMAwQzEVOYRgb0ucl_s3S1XXRilmYGad3TZhp_BO11yzUSnExPDdCOV_rOXg6dga6FlDI8WRROY3KdgwgS1mmqPV357djGkgGxopLF6u5hhNiI6u8-mknEno/s400/barbie.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
It was a bit soggy underfoot down near the river, so I guess this area had suffered with the recent floods, but it wasn't enough to spoil our fun, especially as we had no problem commandeering a picnic bench that was raised on a platform off the grass.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh64kX3JLPNFbKQjQyWBpO357me7ZlXlnFkzJuLgygx7y9DaI-hcU5FstbY5MHppZcwLdgKGspQVv_WALz9LNe62QOkHd3Hbp-NsiDjRuicDSBfEWLncnFhPY4yp1ER2Hrq-Gng90MKu8/s1600/picnic+table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh64kX3JLPNFbKQjQyWBpO357me7ZlXlnFkzJuLgygx7y9DaI-hcU5FstbY5MHppZcwLdgKGspQVv_WALz9LNe62QOkHd3Hbp-NsiDjRuicDSBfEWLncnFhPY4yp1ER2Hrq-Gng90MKu8/s400/picnic+table.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Posers!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
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After we'd eaten our burgers (and bagged about the same amount again to take home for later - got to hone our purchasing skills to help us keep to our budget, but at least we didn't have to cook dinner tonight) we headed to the water play area, which offered us a welcome opportunity to cool down, as it turned out to be quite a hot day. It's made up of a series of shallow pools, linked by streams and was perfect for toddlers (and adults) to paddle and splash around in.<br />
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There was only one other family there, so we made the area our own and chucked about a few buckets of water at each other then spent a while trying to create miniature tsunamis and dams in the streams. We've been trying to build the littlest hobo's water confidence recently, and we could see as she was jumping around and starting splashing fights with the rest of us, that she is much more comfortable than she was a few weeks ago.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitR59TVZF8X5YLBdK7el90wvAs6wuxvKC0eYomHURjvHEezkzW2TTqTHUWvxaIYvnMjilYP5Jgnu938SX0k7i62xnwobfvzCINqV87OX5dT3aI-yDBiGP31ATHgKbx0PDI94sof7fZm4s/s1600/waterfight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitR59TVZF8X5YLBdK7el90wvAs6wuxvKC0eYomHURjvHEezkzW2TTqTHUWvxaIYvnMjilYP5Jgnu938SX0k7i62xnwobfvzCINqV87OX5dT3aI-yDBiGP31ATHgKbx0PDI94sof7fZm4s/s400/waterfight.jpg" width="253" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who was having the most fun??</td></tr></tbody></table><br />
It's a week tomorrow until we leave for New Zealand, and I'm looking forward to plenty more picnic opportunities. We've been keeping a keen eye on the weather, and we're preparing for a shock to the system having seen average temperatures of 13 degrees, after our last few weeks hovering around the 30's, but I am really keen to start what feels like the real 'travelling' part of our trip.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com0Seventeen Mile Rocks Rd, QLD, Australia-27.5444658 152.9563785-27.5585448 152.9366375 -27.530386800000002 152.9761195tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-75380414680463378382012-02-09T14:46:00.000-08:002012-02-09T14:46:03.308-08:00Ten and a half travellers do Mooloolaba<br />
I woke up to the Littlest Hobo coughing and crying in her makeshift bed of sun lounger cushions on the floor beside me. In a sleepy daze, I scooped her up in my arms and cuddled her next to me in my bed, and she soon drifted back off to sleep. I started on my journey back to the land of nod too, but somewhere through the sleep-induced fog I managed to piece together the fact that Mr Traveller wasn't in the bed, no light was shining under the door, and the sounds of laughter from the card game down the hall that had formed the background for my night time slumber were nowhere to be heard. I started to drift back off to sleep myself, but then decided I'd better go and investigate. I gently lifted the Littlest Hobo back into her bed, glanced at my watch - 3.10am, and then tiptoed to the door.<br />
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Silence.<br />
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I pulled the door open and peered along the dark corridor.<br />
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Still nothing.<br />
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The apartment was still. In the living room, my brother-in-law and sister-in-law were sound asleep. I turned back towards the bedroom, but on a whim changed my mind and headed up the stairs to the rooftop and the pool area. I peered through the glass out past the still and empty swimming pool into the milky darkness beyond, where I could hear the waves crashing, 16 floors below, but everything else remained stupefyingly calm and still.<br />
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I opened the door, walked through it, and just as it was a couple of millimetres from clicking closed behind me, I grabbed a cushion and wedged it in the gap; earlier in the afternoon, before we had first arrived, a couple of our group had been locked on the roof when the door closed behind them and they couldn't open it again from the outside. I was surrounded by eerie silent stillness, and a chill ran down my spine.Not a soul to be seen. I turned on my heal and hotfooted it to the door. Just as I grabbed the handle, I sensed a slight movement barely within my vision over my left shoulder. The handle slipped through my fingers as I heard my name hissed in a hoarse rasp. Oh what had I got myself into?<br />
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Then I heard my name again, and the voice was a little clearer and more familiar. My eyes were gradually adjusting to the darkness, and the flapping that had appeared over my shoulder became a knee, and at the end of that knee my husband. 'We're locked out' he exclaimed. 'We're locked on the roof!' I turned to the door and glanced down at the precariously wedged cushion, glad to see that the door was still open.<br />
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'What are you doing up here? Are you on your own?' I asked. He repeated that he was locked out, then pointed to the others (our nephew and our niece's husband) lying further along the deck. As Mr. T hobbled to a standing position, ready to wake the two sleeping beauties, he promptly fell back onto the sun lounger, declaring his foot completely unusable (somewhat dramatic given that he was just experiencing pins and needles, having been lying with his other leg resting across the foot). My nephew jumped to his feet as the sweet smell of freedom invaded his dreams.He was visibly shivering and repeatedly informing me that he only had 'this tiny towel' to cover him. The third member of this unlucky and somewhat alcohol fuelled trio was shaken into wakefulness and I could complete my rescue operation without so much as a cross word (much to their surprise!).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpu02tLkDADj1rl4sXDWDzIlJOWfBS45y8KR19eCruwkPMNHmPDShbtK6IWj6p3kZ-lFtJ1vsg7m4znpAjknPNZFnI5Ol85vZ5KBeJkFSSOokxoEOspRRU6WKDYyY6KEKWLLbiJyuCD8/s1600/splash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpu02tLkDADj1rl4sXDWDzIlJOWfBS45y8KR19eCruwkPMNHmPDShbtK6IWj6p3kZ-lFtJ1vsg7m4znpAjknPNZFnI5Ol85vZ5KBeJkFSSOokxoEOspRRU6WKDYyY6KEKWLLbiJyuCD8/s400/splash.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pool was great for building the Littlest Hobo's confidence in the water</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnHG7tIGBfl8pviYnQafleXmsbz8T70zTWtm13Q1vVNRW12BNiRBCKPgKUQeOYdoEyqtbBOS6c6cqJOziabts_-5fWKx1DCyOGDvLB1oh0l6RmhuU1_KbedaAWb3cOKML5poc8DL2egA/s1600/chilling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnHG7tIGBfl8pviYnQafleXmsbz8T70zTWtm13Q1vVNRW12BNiRBCKPgKUQeOYdoEyqtbBOS6c6cqJOziabts_-5fWKx1DCyOGDvLB1oh0l6RmhuU1_KbedaAWb3cOKML5poc8DL2egA/s400/chilling.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reacquainting with the pool the next day</td></tr>
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But the dodgy pool area door had to be the only downside to this apartment. All we knew was that we were being treated to a weekend away by my brother-in-law and family and niece and her husband. On the day, we were told to drive to Mooloolaba and all would be revealed. Once we arrived in Mooloolaba we were directed on the phone into the Mantra apartment block, then we parked the car and headed for the lifts. When we stepped through the door of our holiday apartment, we weren't prepared for the amazing accommodation that was to welcome us. The roof top deck with private pool and spa was the first treat, looking out over the ocean below, and ours to enjoy all weekend.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3uhZR4ZIzU-zgD87emTpPKS_FKC8qXwcRXQ3Quf0Jjkrd_sJl2n9vYhJD4nNIpcGoVUHhBK7xIna2s79WoC1lkShdyJF3y213Fe3_6o1gxgix3GVtcZ0TaugEkVztBMfHVvfi6GLqUJ8/s1600/rooftop+pool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3uhZR4ZIzU-zgD87emTpPKS_FKC8qXwcRXQ3Quf0Jjkrd_sJl2n9vYhJD4nNIpcGoVUHhBK7xIna2s79WoC1lkShdyJF3y213Fe3_6o1gxgix3GVtcZ0TaugEkVztBMfHVvfi6GLqUJ8/s400/rooftop+pool.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving the pool!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjs9KpMIVJFFCH9OA07fjSxusQ4cZS3H53jRujPYJxTevcWo31O4et5GfQVCZ3ufm9U9F3BOUwsvmFZWZW8ctfdjROaKTve_Q9CCzkJcxtmreB6T_GOZOzOaPfYCdM2ubmFEHxuTXHlE/s1600/multiple+remotes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="101" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjs9KpMIVJFFCH9OA07fjSxusQ4cZS3H53jRujPYJxTevcWo31O4et5GfQVCZ3ufm9U9F3BOUwsvmFZWZW8ctfdjROaKTve_Q9CCzkJcxtmreB6T_GOZOzOaPfYCdM2ubmFEHxuTXHlE/s200/multiple+remotes.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So many remote controls for one room!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1PfR5Gz5OXBSn1lBQbTyMb9OoNfYos-UNXUj4sjQ7RVeq1u_jAPzMV0xjZ3XELLcDvIoEsulHmTu4MQvt0i6dVIsr8wa43Tl2kAZdN6meIeWdQmPbWxQFgeJSUdFjJo9IHOluC21jX7s/s1600/panic+button.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1PfR5Gz5OXBSn1lBQbTyMb9OoNfYos-UNXUj4sjQ7RVeq1u_jAPzMV0xjZ3XELLcDvIoEsulHmTu4MQvt0i6dVIsr8wa43Tl2kAZdN6meIeWdQmPbWxQFgeJSUdFjJo9IHOluC21jX7s/s200/panic+button.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The panic button by the bed</td></tr>
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Then we headed back downstairs and checked out the movie room, complete with mural painted ceiling and lots of overly technical looking Sony audio equipment. We checked out our bedroom, with a walk in wardrobe the size of another bedroom, speakers dotted the ceiling throughout and a marble-clad en-suite with views along the coast up to Noosa and beyond. I'm guessing this place belongs to someone important, given the panic button that was mounted near the bed.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIFwCs1ko1KwPYiCRiEWciouPXW891pTqEs4BCXTpR9_qQa20k68i3Ptt1UwiIHClMOszDb-TZT6EQgFP-jCFJUt1qYbq2QBVyDYISYE6wL1_WSfYEbKUoUx2WRm3MylSOQFx1JPms8U/s1600/cinema+ceiling.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNIFwCs1ko1KwPYiCRiEWciouPXW891pTqEs4BCXTpR9_qQa20k68i3Ptt1UwiIHClMOszDb-TZT6EQgFP-jCFJUt1qYbq2QBVyDYISYE6wL1_WSfYEbKUoUx2WRm3MylSOQFx1JPms8U/s400/cinema+ceiling.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mural on the ceiling in the movie room</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEfrb4ujZFnUL1vM2gmcHEVjf3WP_iSSDbCIqTtAEoHdd7GkFWfKxQ3IrK15wjAM7mbONZ0nnfYB1w19z-awIBDDfsSuzy5Oykgv7Fp_yKotqbI-d3cw3i3b1Qac0hg-sjBBUhaVt4_Q/s1600/ensuite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjEfrb4ujZFnUL1vM2gmcHEVjf3WP_iSSDbCIqTtAEoHdd7GkFWfKxQ3IrK15wjAM7mbONZ0nnfYB1w19z-awIBDDfsSuzy5Oykgv7Fp_yKotqbI-d3cw3i3b1Qac0hg-sjBBUhaVt4_Q/s400/ensuite.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our en-suite with views up the coast</td></tr>
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We looked around the rest of the apartment then regrouped in the living room. Then we noticed a couple of doors off to the side of the room... the first one was locked. The second one opened, to reveal.... another door! Feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland, we opened the next door to find a large empty room with a hung ceiling, several cut off wires hanging out the walls and ceiling and a large one way mirror on one of the walls. Standing right up against the mirror we could see into the locked room - nothing much to see there, but we were fairly confident that this strange area we had found was a recording studio.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdwre1eEnDxk2I-IN22_ldbKi272RzgBx3X8Vrpu9csRpvn5GkoyiqS30Kb8D0YzgvUHnM7AQinjJ3jObA3nHFjcPhd5I1vDFFhpN0Nn3jF4wI7_YeRw8dYdecY1nd_SsYV_NXUJB618/s1600/recording+studio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicdwre1eEnDxk2I-IN22_ldbKi272RzgBx3X8Vrpu9csRpvn5GkoyiqS30Kb8D0YzgvUHnM7AQinjJ3jObA3nHFjcPhd5I1vDFFhpN0Nn3jF4wI7_YeRw8dYdecY1nd_SsYV_NXUJB618/s320/recording+studio.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We think it's a recording studio</td></tr>
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With all the musical evidence around and the panic button too, plus the sheer opulence of the place, it felt likely that someone famous may own it - I would love to know who! Between flashy penthouses, long-haul upgrades to business class, and the Intercontinental in Singapore, we've been having a jolly old time for long-term travellers the last few weeks. I'm sure we're going to come back down to earth with a thump in a couple of weeks time when we arrive in New Zealand with out budget leading our decisions! Still, I am sure that the wonder of the beautiful area we will be visiting will make up for any home comforts or little luxuries that we suddenly find are missing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifud-Tef3sLmScHVLbYlv8XceSqISuW3Kmk5_fR3HFnMhjj_l_34NkWH6boycBEFyt3Y5kvJX9liqpoRJvc9ltCzIK3hcRDnaZ0rIYM5_OepPOJ0U5EZiH0M6lwewAZcaCxcZDtQKbrQk/s1600/view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifud-Tef3sLmScHVLbYlv8XceSqISuW3Kmk5_fR3HFnMhjj_l_34NkWH6boycBEFyt3Y5kvJX9liqpoRJvc9ltCzIK3hcRDnaZ0rIYM5_OepPOJ0U5EZiH0M6lwewAZcaCxcZDtQKbrQk/s400/view.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the balcony off our bedroom</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com2Mooloolaba QLD, Australia-26.6778695 153.117347-26.692058 153.09760599999998 -26.663681 153.137088tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-32181984100543202582012-01-29T04:36:00.000-08:002012-01-29T04:36:45.299-08:00Visiting Sentosa (with the rest of Singapore)<br />
Wikipedia reliably informs me that the Malay translation of Sentosa is peace and tranquillity, so naturally it was high on our list of places to visit while we were in Singapore last week.<br />
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The Littlest Hobo wasn't very well while we were in Singapore so we ended up dropping most of our plans in favour of taking it easy and trying to get her better, but on our last free day, after a better nights sleep, we decided we could re-discover the world beyond the hotel room and went for a day out to Sentosa Island Resort.<br />
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We got there using the SMRT underground train, which was an experience in itself given I'm rarely keen to travel on underground transport. But the MRT was clean, quick and functional, and felt safe and spacious, which were all big pluses. The Littlest Hobo was the main attraction on our short journey; with her blonde curly hair and overall cuteness this seems to be rule of thumb whenever we are in Asia.<br />
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We got off the train at Vivo City shopping centre (which was huge) and opted to walk across the boardwalk to Sentosa Island - alternatives were to ride the cable car or take the monorail. The walk took about 10 minutes and the walkway had several moving platforms, which was very welcome in the humidity of Singapore. As with much of Singapore, it was immaculately manicured and well maintained. When we arrived on the Island we paid for our entry - $1 per person and the Littlest Hobo was free. We couldn't really work out the point behind the $1 fee, but I'm sure there's some logic in there somewhere.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj3I03Gjhwl_rJgQrz_i2RxQVxB7EsVBkdnoozyDL5UnbY-XSmV9EXKsnqCWV7ZgLtt-v4h-Y3HVOW33AcWofmVsz3M56drDypFpWt0iZiMmYWvfHHDl8ur7TBtlc_EC5WgSnqDCx963k/s1600/boardwalk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj3I03Gjhwl_rJgQrz_i2RxQVxB7EsVBkdnoozyDL5UnbY-XSmV9EXKsnqCWV7ZgLtt-v4h-Y3HVOW33AcWofmVsz3M56drDypFpWt0iZiMmYWvfHHDl8ur7TBtlc_EC5WgSnqDCx963k/s400/boardwalk.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the boardwalk</td></tr>
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Once inside we started to wander in the general direction everyone else was heading in, and soon came across Resorts World, which is the main area for restaurants and hotels. It's also where the entrance to Universal Studios is housed, and a large portion of the crowd seemed to drop off at this point so Universal is obviously a big reason for many people visiting. This area felt really Disneylandesque, as much as I could remember from my one visit to Disney twenty or so years ago. The Littlest Hobo was quite taken with the giant M&M's at the huge sweet shop - that's the closest she'll be getting to a peanut M&M any time soon!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdJxV2CKdZtkokG8VF3HQhxK13jfKfyIrljPwBnXAVJ_s8smY9vKkZIcMonM5KM-IBBM5-uYjt-Cm3KIwQHEXX1x1mnHQ3D7-ZTZ-qtzjT8Qi9bagjODpjXXNXJjCmWnOqVtXjUj_I7Y/s1600/mandm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdJxV2CKdZtkokG8VF3HQhxK13jfKfyIrljPwBnXAVJ_s8smY9vKkZIcMonM5KM-IBBM5-uYjt-Cm3KIwQHEXX1x1mnHQ3D7-ZTZ-qtzjT8Qi9bagjODpjXXNXJjCmWnOqVtXjUj_I7Y/s400/mandm.jpg" width="376" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just beware of the nuts! </td></tr>
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We'd decided to head for Underwater World, and see how we got on there before deciding whether to go to anything else on the island. I was also keen to see the Merlion, and to have a look around the Sentosa Flowers exhibit, which happens for a few days every year around Chinese New Year. The Littlest Hobo had given Mr T a promise of tickets to the Songs of the Sea show for his birthday, so we were hoping to hold out to see it in the evening, but didn't know if we would manage to.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQV9Uvhm1elh78jvVqewNVC00buNMBY_5T7CKrkm3dmzbKAPoJve9HpIa8YUPUXppcELMMCVmbS3o578k-XSrRHml4tYWGL2ngoFfuv807FWlIjkhX8EXjEBlItKz240tkMJ5kBy6frg/s1600/sentosa+flowers+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoQV9Uvhm1elh78jvVqewNVC00buNMBY_5T7CKrkm3dmzbKAPoJve9HpIa8YUPUXppcELMMCVmbS3o578k-XSrRHml4tYWGL2ngoFfuv807FWlIjkhX8EXjEBlItKz240tkMJ5kBy6frg/s320/sentosa+flowers+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sentosa flowers exhibit</td></tr>
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Looking at the map before we went, I had imagined Sentosa to be about the same size as a theme park. The reality was very different - the place is huge! Given how small a proportion of the map Universal Studios occupied, I really should have been able to figure this out before we went, but it just didn't sink in until we got there and realised that Underwater World, at the far end of the island, was going to take us quite a while to walk to. On top of this, we went up one escalator away from Resort World and onto Merlion Walk, which housed the Sentosa Flowers exhibit, to discover that the vast majority of the p[opulation of Singapore were also spending the second day of Chinese New Year on Sentosa. We fought through the crowds, largely choosing to by-pass the flowers as this seemed to be where the main mass of people were congregating, and headed up the hill using a series of escalators. In amongst our horror at the craziness of the area, which is usually described as a nature trail, and our scramble to get past it, I did take a few seconds to look around and thought how beautiful it would be without 50,000 other people sharing the immediate vicinity with us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTc4YGjOXZYpqQ3-EtvMNkNcfnhdc9AhQRvNYL1K5xKjmUQ6TDTxMEmKUpeNaXJlAreb4hD4w1D4deIhpq5U3mEbGgYbIC8nVGan0bMU5KakcK_-kySJ89HckcmC8JBZBeGd6pFKWpok4/s1600/merlion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTc4YGjOXZYpqQ3-EtvMNkNcfnhdc9AhQRvNYL1K5xKjmUQ6TDTxMEmKUpeNaXJlAreb4hD4w1D4deIhpq5U3mEbGgYbIC8nVGan0bMU5KakcK_-kySJ89HckcmC8JBZBeGd6pFKWpok4/s400/merlion.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sentosa merlion, with part of the Sentosa Flowers exhibition at the foot</td></tr>
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By the time we'd got to the top of the hill, and fought our way through yet more people dressed in their new year finery and waiting to have their pictures taken amongst the flower displays, and a group of snake charmers who were pulling quite a crowd, we decided to sit down for a drink and some lunch. We were right at the crest of the hill, so, short of finding somewhere indoors and air-conditioned, this was the coolest place we would be likely to find - pretty appealing really. We bought three chicken hot dogs, which we didn't realise were cold until we bit into them, a water each and two cold beers - that'll be $40 of your hard earned cash please. I still suspect that it was this hot dog that gave me the upset stomach that lasted until yesterday.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXk6NQbhNGyuKGqECitZwkpX53Dy0Url1RxBhrw5C5HiT7EdwoxxNjM-AJuMUGBpjtpuQrJo80NBqVYAWmfBC2-FuepygtX50pWxWOcrr7u85q1g-btKuuw05oajV-okYzPs_Q3EPiZc/s1600/beer+and+hotdogs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLXk6NQbhNGyuKGqECitZwkpX53Dy0Url1RxBhrw5C5HiT7EdwoxxNjM-AJuMUGBpjtpuQrJo80NBqVYAWmfBC2-FuepygtX50pWxWOcrr7u85q1g-btKuuw05oajV-okYzPs_Q3EPiZc/s400/beer+and+hotdogs.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beer and hotdogs at a premium</td></tr>
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We continued on our trek to the far end of the island, made slightly more complicated by the lack of signage for anything other than those attractions within the immediate surroundings, but we worked it out and headed for the beach as the littlest hobo was asleep in the stroller. It was a really nice beach with lots of space and some sahdes dotted around. The slope into the water was relatively steep, but otherwise, the beach was fairly child friendly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbyw5QTofqRG-T7MoYqkRbQgOd9TMBNbzLtdasbjjxAFmUUYkov-ZvTvwl7WaEZOFFm5ScwGF7kYYFh_RYxuBUQuUALEv1GYJOPKAjqq9ybr8UQfIPvF5Ph1WHJInFXawS86k9U3qAcA/s1600/watching+jelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLbyw5QTofqRG-T7MoYqkRbQgOd9TMBNbzLtdasbjjxAFmUUYkov-ZvTvwl7WaEZOFFm5ScwGF7kYYFh_RYxuBUQuUALEv1GYJOPKAjqq9ybr8UQfIPvF5Ph1WHJInFXawS86k9U3qAcA/s400/watching+jelly.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Underwater World</td></tr>
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We made our way to Underwater World - we paid $26 for each of the adults and the littlest hobo was free as an under 3. We took about half an hour walking around the indoor areas, including an underwater tunnel which had a novel moving walkway which you could step off if you wanted to spend a bit more time in that section. We then made our way to the outdoor dolphin arena, where unfortunately a show was just finishing, and the next one wasn't starting for another hour and a half. We waited around for a little while but there really wasn't much else to do, and we were pretty exhausted from our hike around the island, so we jumped in a taxi and headed back to our hotel.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46f5EKiyaoe6vMtg22xaGDAzCzShg0XZtS0GI1EnxxtymvFxKKuTmwBjvc6p6sGAg4ufA5kjz-jB72ruk-Jk9lTjxzuWnuWVCRqmFAO6UhPJ-MGCyAjfbxgcKfN3Ds0kCxROOZYARYxY/s1600/jellyfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46f5EKiyaoe6vMtg22xaGDAzCzShg0XZtS0GI1EnxxtymvFxKKuTmwBjvc6p6sGAg4ufA5kjz-jB72ruk-Jk9lTjxzuWnuWVCRqmFAO6UhPJ-MGCyAjfbxgcKfN3Ds0kCxROOZYARYxY/s400/jellyfish.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favourite exhibit in Underwater world was the jellyfish</td></tr>
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I was a bit disappointed in Underwater World - maybe we have been spoilt with Sydney Aquarium, but I just felt that there wasn't enough here. In fact, the whole of Sentosa was a bit disappointing - possibly it would have been different had we not been visiting on what was probably one of the busiest days of the year, and possibly it wouldn't. We arrived wondering why we hadn't booked a hotel on the island, and left thankful that we hadn't.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com4Sentosa, Singapore1.2494041 103.83032091.2176541 103.7908389 1.2811541 103.86980290000001tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-8789171270317145812012-01-28T19:17:00.000-08:002012-01-28T19:17:17.206-08:00When the weather gets cold....<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">...sitting here in the warm, humid Brisbane 'burbs, trying to keep cool and avoid developing a full on 'fro from the damp air, having just a week ago departed from the chilly Northern hemisphere, i feel a million miles from the idea of 'when the weather gets cold', but this weeks <a href="http://www.bootsnall.com/events/indie/" target="_blank">BootsnAll 2012 Indie Travel Challenge</a> prompt is all about winter travel. </span><br />
<strong style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;"><br /></strong><br />
<strong style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; text-align: left;">When the weather gets cold, do you prefer to head to sunnier locales or do you love the outdoor adventures or off-season prices of winter? Warm or cold, what’s your dream winter travel destination, and do you have any travel plans for the coming months? </strong>
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<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">If we go on gut instincts I definitely lean towards the sunny side of the street, and I'm probably more of a fair weather traveller than a snow princess. Although we don't let it lead us entirely, our travel plans for the year have been influenced by trying not too spend too much time in winter climes, although we've also been trying to work a little bit of snow somewhere into the schedule too! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Too long in the cool weather and I find myself craving a sunny beach, but travelling off-season definitely has it's advantages too. The littlest hobo, while pretty adaptable, like many young children doesn't cope too well when it's really hot, so avoiding those super hot times means we can usually get out and about and have a more enjoyable time on our travels.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All rugged up for a bike ride at Centre Parcs in France, December 2011</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Travelling off season also has the advantage of beating the crowds and getting better prices, as we discovered on our recent <a href="http://www.twoandahalftravellers.blogspot.com/2011/12/review-centre-parcs-good-bad-and-ugly.html" target="_blank">stay at Centre Parcs</a>. I don't know that it would have been anywhere near as pleasurable if it had been mobbed as it's supposed to be in the school holidays! It's great visiting places and actually getting time to enjoy them without having to share the experience with every man and his dog. On the flip-side, travelling on a full flight at a peak time can have it's advantages when you are lucky enough to get upgraded, like we were on our flight from Singapore to Sydney the other day! </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">The heavy rain that has been falling outside our window for the last few hours is evidence enough that you can be subject to weather that scuppers your plans for the day at any time of year - lucky for us we are laying low in the hope that the littlest hobo, who has been sick since we left the UK, will start to feel a bit better, so the inhospitable outdoor setting just makes that easier to do, otherwise I'm sure it would be inducing cabin fever. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Ultimately, for us, the main drive behind travel comes down to experiences, and too much time doing any one thing means it just becomes the norm - a change in seasons can be the key to doing different things - while warm weather begs for the outdoors to be explored, cold or wet days make museums and other indoor activities more appealing. There's something invigorating about stepping outside into cold air, wrapped up snug in your winter clothes, but right now I'm enjoying the wieghtlessness of my summer clothes on my back. Maybe that's the way that human instinct goes, and why the world turns the way it does - we need the change to keep it all appealing. For now, the beach is calling me, but give it a couple of months and I'm sure a roaring log fire on a cold wintry New Zealand day will be calling my name. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">Do you have a preference for summer/winter travel?</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.bootsnall.com/articles/12-01/join-bootsnalls-indie-travel-challenge-2012.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Indie Travel Challenge"><img height="150" src="http://www.bootsnall.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/indiechallenge.png" title="Indie Travel Challenge" width="150" /></a>
<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;">This post was inspired by and forms part of the <a href="http://www.bootsnall.com/events/indie/" target="_blank">BootsnAll 2012 Indie Travel Challenge</a> - a prompt, question or challenge, every week for the year of 2012. I'm hoping that it will be a little more realistic for me to achieve than a photo a day proved to be in 2011!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #070604; font-family: Arial, sans_serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px;"><br /></span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com3Brisbane QLD, Australia-27.4709331 153.0235024-27.4850216 153.0037614 -27.4568446 153.04324340000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-41792767375710915522012-01-22T07:18:00.000-08:002012-01-22T17:54:07.056-08:00You learn something new every day, just think what you can achieve in a year!This week, the <a href="http://www.bootsnall.com/events/indie/" target="_blank">BootsnAll 2012 Indie Travel Challenge</a> posed the question; What would you like to learn through travel in 2012.<br />
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There are the obvious ones - I'm doing my <a href="http://www.thephotographyinstitute.co.uk/" target="_blank">Photography Institute</a> diploma at the moment and plan to finish that this year, and Mr Traveller is hanging out to do another cookery course or two. Of course we want to learn about the places that we're visiting, and the people that live their, and I'm sure we'll also learn quite a bit about how to, and how not to, travel with a toddler. After our dash half way across the globe a couple of days ago I think it's safe to say that we still need to learn how to pack a bit lighter; I really hope we can get that down pat by the end of this year. Seriously, do we really need to take our electric toothbrush around the world with us?!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6cgTW6Rp9IiSm3wIzF65YbqgvmnwRpw03hO5VY5LW-O3lSq4ksWNOsExBb9sKKiCXx7AMg57x8yggDctu-t540XpZreZHv5R0HLxqFgSlJNV4HEbNVvmykWGm9YOy6udQV2BJ0DTlyA/s1600/photography.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN6cgTW6Rp9IiSm3wIzF65YbqgvmnwRpw03hO5VY5LW-O3lSq4ksWNOsExBb9sKKiCXx7AMg57x8yggDctu-t540XpZreZHv5R0HLxqFgSlJNV4HEbNVvmykWGm9YOy6udQV2BJ0DTlyA/s400/photography.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Focussing on photography</td></tr>
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But I think the most important thing for us to learn as a family this year is a bit about ourselves. We need to establish what we want to do next. When we set out on this journey, we knew we wanted to see a bit of the world, take more time to appreciate the things we never had time to stop and take in properly in the past, and spend more time together. But what we didn't know, and couldn't agree on, is what we wanted next. We've got to decide which country we will live in; Australia, the UK or somewhere else entirely. We know we're not perpetual full time travellers. While I fully appreciate the sentiment of it, home schooling isn't our thing, and having experienced a relatively large amount of moving around as a child, I'm not sure that that's what I want for the littlest hobo either. So we want to settle back down somewhere, but where? In that typical expat way, our family and friends are precariously positioned at intermittent points around the globe; how inconsiderate that they're not all just sitting in some sleepy little village waiting for us to come back and life to resume!. And surely it's somewhat inevitable that what we are doing now will have some influence on the lifestyle we choose then - chances are we're not going to want to live the 5 days a week office working big disposable income little time to spend it lifestyle that we previously enjoyed. I want chooks that lay eggs, I want a veggie patch and a herb garden that I manage to cultivate sometime beyond 2 weeks. I want time for my family, and time to take photographs and to relax. But I love the city too, I love the action, and the convenience and the people. So I need to spend some time thinking about that and work out what I really want, and which little corner of the great wide world can best offer that to us, and Mr T needs to do the same thing. Our learning for 2012 is all about delving deep inside our own minds and getting to know ourselves.<br />
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What are you hoping to learn in 2012?<br />
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This post was inspired by and forms part of the <a href="http://www.bootsnall.com/blog/indie-travel-this-week-on-bootsnall.html" target="_blank">Boots n All 2012 Indie Travel Challenge</a> - a prompt, question or challenge, every week for the year of 2012. I'm hoping that it will be a little more realistic for me to achieve than a photo a day proved to be in 2011!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com0Singapore1.352083 103.8198361.098096 103.503979 1.6060699999999999 104.13569299999999tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3972891173947091219.post-74959867658219876122012-01-21T07:04:00.000-08:002012-01-21T07:04:10.008-08:00Hello Singapore!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We arrived safely in Singapore last night, checked into our hotel and went for a wander to get some food. We haven't done much today as we've been battling the jet lag and the littlest hobo has having a hard time with the air con making her cough (and vomit while we were in the restaurant having breakfast, oh yay) so we've been taking it easy, just walking around the area and enjoying the hotel facilities. Here are a few highlights of the day in pictures though:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJ907_QxpwTbXyDHoLNvFRZTXkt1hbJMVrwT7gNUnbR2yVc6JQ7YwvLjVILtVxIs0a1kRfzcu9PJ6UdXhzcZe32GA1C7qb7SgA92gnwx8i3xdpPSA_H1iWj4b3gRDJR-sQIIQdNZ6KfY/s1600/wake+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJ907_QxpwTbXyDHoLNvFRZTXkt1hbJMVrwT7gNUnbR2yVc6JQ7YwvLjVILtVxIs0a1kRfzcu9PJ6UdXhzcZe32GA1C7qb7SgA92gnwx8i3xdpPSA_H1iWj4b3gRDJR-sQIIQdNZ6KfY/s400/wake+up.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wake up... wake up! I'm so happy that you have managed to sleep through the jet lag but it's 7.30am and we're sooo hungry!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqMUgD4H2YDaxC2XI5ZrDw95m7s9LjD21T4j8S93BNnGC_Us5f_3oVvra2XSGBJCUyw1E_BN3ESWbqW3Oz9hlRqyX2PT7tKXopigzKDEdV6cbkUCU_KDRSPEBZZ_Ec5yKI6EBVeuUwuM/s1600/singapore+raining.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqMUgD4H2YDaxC2XI5ZrDw95m7s9LjD21T4j8S93BNnGC_Us5f_3oVvra2XSGBJCUyw1E_BN3ESWbqW3Oz9hlRqyX2PT7tKXopigzKDEdV6cbkUCU_KDRSPEBZZ_Ec5yKI6EBVeuUwuM/s400/singapore+raining.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a really dramatic storm with some huge crashes of thunder and flashes of lightning, so what do I do? Head out on the street with my camera of course!<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkDLTMV0yN9Iwqsv4ODdM6tzF0HkVM8aBkHfD-s8vTpcH6GEJYopz6LOxhO0LlToXYqxuMTLh-hPFpRseH3jDaty9nkChuM6M5r9SCjPaWNtB-QY3TggFY_sQ03hei_n5zL-HLBcKklg/s1600/bugis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkDLTMV0yN9Iwqsv4ODdM6tzF0HkVM8aBkHfD-s8vTpcH6GEJYopz6LOxhO0LlToXYqxuMTLh-hPFpRseH3jDaty9nkChuM6M5r9SCjPaWNtB-QY3TggFY_sQ03hei_n5zL-HLBcKklg/s400/bugis.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bugis junction, all decked out for Chinese New Year</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioROJlu0RfwdUwJ0dhSaZ7n-2nVuqYBCf5Czmt4Uij-gbkH_WGpSA11A5jFDrcZwxAB60hGNtuARhClQuXesY8cNaA4eFk8pFzjUdidwrC7NkhCXCF8Pi315fBrdRKvNxcKkD5chY59Vk/s1600/money+envelope.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioROJlu0RfwdUwJ0dhSaZ7n-2nVuqYBCf5Czmt4Uij-gbkH_WGpSA11A5jFDrcZwxAB60hGNtuARhClQuXesY8cNaA4eFk8pFzjUdidwrC7NkhCXCF8Pi315fBrdRKvNxcKkD5chY59Vk/s400/money+envelope.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mandarins are seen as symbols of abundance and good fortune during Chinese New Year, so there are mandarin trees with money envelopes attached to them everywhere, and they look great!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkyQdntx3ZnSfR1FL2oWM-p4aefM6DdjbSPshyjC78gcMkpwtUzCm13pxc8_OSX8AumBAIv32xOa5UtRIilz2oXsxiytKi16lIbJsslMJ4pYl_eu29Oh3JfCBOn0u_8fqrsiPU1NbEbA/s1600/evening+swim.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkyQdntx3ZnSfR1FL2oWM-p4aefM6DdjbSPshyjC78gcMkpwtUzCm13pxc8_OSX8AumBAIv32xOa5UtRIilz2oXsxiytKi16lIbJsslMJ4pYl_eu29Oh3JfCBOn0u_8fqrsiPU1NbEbA/s400/evening+swim.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An evening swim in the rain in the rooftop pool after the storm had finally subsided</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi40TI1Ew2btPDUwrHSkmrOVh7bd4oZ2edF9UZKhy2VFCh02xLj6t4cN07f_dv4UaJlEMndxTCjRQgNMeNNbCwtIHTiRnG8uhCuNHn6zts_pqPx53j06fIOGq4p4ThavucP5rmQoCX0zSk/s1600/fireworks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi40TI1Ew2btPDUwrHSkmrOVh7bd4oZ2edF9UZKhy2VFCh02xLj6t4cN07f_dv4UaJlEMndxTCjRQgNMeNNbCwtIHTiRnG8uhCuNHn6zts_pqPx53j06fIOGq4p4ThavucP5rmQoCX0zSk/s400/fireworks.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just as we were about to leave the rooftop we were treated to a fantastic and unexpected fireworks display - I was caught unaware so the photography is pretty rubbish, but it was a spectacular display, with loads of planet shapes and hearts, and I can't wait to see the Chinese New Year main event now that we've located a perfect viewing spot!</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05011404950784186537noreply@blogger.com0Singapore, Singapore1.352083 103.8198361.098096 103.503979 1.6060699999999999 104.13569299999999