Time seems to be flying by faster and
faster, at least that is how I am experiencing it right now. My short stop in Dunedin is one which I
will remember for a long time, mainly because I have found the right balance
between work and leisure.
Even before setting foot on the ground in Dunedin, I had a picture
in my mind of the place. Many Kiwis had told me that this is the city where the
Scottish feel is still strongly present. Indeed, in one way or another, this
city feels very European.
A strong tailwind results in the fact that
my coffee grinder (domestic flights are all handled with relatively small
aircraft)lands some 10 minutes earlier
than planned. And that means that my new host, Sean, is nowhere to be found.
Not that this presents any problem since I was already chatting time away .
Sean must have realised from the very First minute that I am not exactly a shy
person.
We head for Seans house, driving through a
beautiful green landscape, where I will spend the next 3 nights. I did got the
morning free to update my blogs but as you see, I did not succeed I have
barely finished replying my mail, when it is time to hit the road again. First
to the local TV studio as they had asked for an interview with the Belgian
visitor. It ends up being the fastest recorded interview ever, not in the
studio but in the nearby railway station, where a brass plaque on the wall
reminds of Passchendaele. The plaques (one on either side) were initially
installed on a locomotive but later on ended up on the wall of the railway
station. The second one is to be seen in Christchurch.
Then becomes a matter of running, walking
and running to make it in time to the cinema where a film about aMaori pilgrimage was shown. I have already
mentioned that the indigenous population of this island has integrated in a
much better way than in Australia.
I assume that the film was produced to make clear that the Maori culture has
also determined the image of this country. It brings the story of a group of
Maori children from the NorthernIsland on a pilgrimage to the Southern
Island, walking in the steps of their forebears. Along the way,
the group stops at several places where their ancestors had also halted on
their forced journey South. I am most likely the only European in the theatre
(which is sold out), so perhaps I look through different eyes. Somehow, I feel
uncomfortable as some parts come across as if they want to throw a sense of
guilt on the angry white man. Political correctness in a fashion word today
does this film fit under this umbrella???
On Thursday, I had my first college
experience waiting for me. Another lesson learned for me: check where the light
switches are! Halfway through my lecture, the lights suddenly switched on,
resulting in the fact that the laser beam is no longer visible. Since no one
seems to know where to find the switch to turn the light off, I have to
continue without the use of the laser. Somewhat different from the usual
talk The group was smaller than expected (about 15 in total) but that was
compensated by the attention with which my lecture was followed.
After my talk, Don McKay was introduced to
me. In a way, his path resembles mine a bit: from a farm to becoming a
historian (with that difference that he has a university degree). He takes me
to the local army museum, where I get to see a lot of WW II artefacts. Our next
stop is a local pub, where I am being presented a local beer. Another reason
why Dunedin has
more of a European feel to it:there is
a brewery and a chocolate factory bang in the middle of town. The amber beer
actually goes down very well. Having said that, I am pleased that I only asked
for a half a pint. Had I gone for the full pint, I would have ended up being a
singing Belgian!
On Friday, an interview with the national
radio was scheduled, followed by a visit to a local artist who makes brooches
of bullets and pieces of brass. Can you imagine my surprise when recognising
the cards on the table, showing the design? In 2007, NZ head of Defence in London stayed at my
place, asking me to distribute those cards amongst my Kiwi guests. And now I am
here, meeting a most charming man with whom I would have loved to chat for a
longer time. No time to be wasted though: my next stop is the Otago museum. A
flying visit this is but long enough to make clear to me that an art-loving
soldier had brought back to the homeland, a wide range of Egyptian art pieces,
including 2 mummies!
Just enough time for changing outfit:
minutes later, this lady in red is ready for a lecture in the local library.
The talk is being organised by the Settlers museum but since the building is
still in refurbishment, it has been moved to the library. No one has any idea
of the number ofpeople that will attend
but it soon becomes clear there isnt sufficient space to seat the more than
100 interested ones showing up. Sean had informed me that a talk here never
lasts longer than one hour well, that is as good as asking for the impossible
to happen. So my start was a warning followed by a joke and the promise that I
would not return in the near future. Good enough to get the group on my side
immediately. It has turned out to be a beautiful evening, followed by a chat
with many of the audience afterwards. To that extend that we were kindly asked
to leave the room because they wanted to close. A lovely dinner is a local
restaurant put a very nice capstone on this visit. Thanks everyone!
Another ungodly start yesterday: I am
already closing my suitcase at 5 am. On to the airport then where Sean waved my
out on my way to my new adventure, one that has brought me to Christchurch.
John and Olive what a wonderful reunion
with loyal guests of Varlet Farm. First stop is a restaurant to enjoy a very
filling breakfast, after which we head down to the coast. The journey takes me
along breathtaking landscapes. Every tourist has to agree with me: this is
nature at its best: hills, a beautiful coast line with idyllic villages dotted
in between this is what New Zealand has to offer, topped up with warm hospitality.
Exhausted I retreat to my room. Just before
sleep gets me in its grip, I realise that I have just learned what it really
means to live life to the fullest.
No better environment to write a blog than
an airport: so here I am again. After a very short night, constantly
interrupted by heavy rain on the tin roof, I am once again waiting for a
flight. Heading for Dunedin
this time
On my journey, it has become clear to me
that kiwi hospitality is more than a step higher than in any other country. The
plan was to spend the night in a hotel since I need to be at the airport by 6
am. Well that didnt happen. As soon as John and Elizabeth learned that I had
returned to Wellington,
I received an invitation to stay with them again. On top of that, Elizabeth was so kind to
take me to the airport too. This is a country with 2 faces: on the one hand
side, there is the more than relaxed atmosphere but I stand in amazement when
hearing that every week, the eldest daughter is getting out of bed at 5 am to
play water polo! As there is only one swimming pool in town, which is suitable
for this sport, school teams are booking their training ungodly early in the
morning. This young lady is playing water polo at 6 am in the morning, going to
school after that in order to finish the day with a hockey training. Her mother
proves to be equally active: either she goes walking for an hour or on a day as
today (with heavy rain) she kills time with swimming.
Fact is that the school culture, where
sports fills a much bigger part of the curriculum,appears to bear fruit. If the newspapers got
it right, NZ currently holds the highest number of Olympic medals per capita.
So it pays to get up early in the morning: that is the conclusion I draw.
Todays flight will bring me to Dunedin, the second last
stop on my planned route. As Dunedin
is a relatively small city (120.000 inhabitants of whom 20.000 students) , I
have only planned a 3 day stop. Busy days by the sound of it, as I have two
scheduled lectures: one in the OtagoUniversity and the second
one in the library. The Settlersmuseum,
who is organising the second lecture, could not host my talk, due to major
refurbishments.
A new challenge here: it will be my very
first talk in an university auditorium. Having said that, the auditoriums of
some of the museums I have lectured in, are most likely not inferior than the
one I will be presenting in tomorrow
Meanwhile, I have safe and well arrived in Dunedin. A strong tail
wind brings me here 10 minutes before the official timing. This city has the
reputation of being a bit of Scotland
down under. Never having been to Scotland, I have no grounds to
compare. All I see are endless pastures where countless heads of cattle are
grazing in the most scenic landscape. Milk and butter are main products in NZ
export. As I understand, almost the whole quota ends up being bought by China. Is it
this high demand which keep the prices relatively high? With a price of 65
cents for a litre milk, it sits above the Belgian price. Or do I have that
wrong?I learn that farmers would love
to increase their live stock. However, New Zealand shows to be a very
conscious country on environmental issues ( gradually that shows in the
building regulations as well) hence the fact hat no more licences for more
cattle are being handed out. As far as I am concerned : a very courageous
decision of the government. They look on long term instead of going for the
quick gain.
Being picked up by a stranger surely has
its charms Except for a name, I have no information on my new host. The best
attitude is to wait till someone steps forward to me. Sean soon appears in
order to bring me to his home, where I will be staying the next couple of days.
Not much time to sit and relax though since I am being expected for a TV
interview this afternoon. Already I start sweating: as talkative as I might be,
a camera still has that paralysing effect on me. I can only hope that this will
become an experience of which I will be able to think off in a pleasant way in
the years to come. One thing is for certain: this journey is one that I
couldnt have dreamt of in my wildest dreams!
Travelling teaches you to look at the world
through different eyes, that is for sure. When leaving Belgium behind,
I took that uneasy feeling with me: the gnawing insecurity, which constantly
reminded me that I had left a safe haven behind in order to walk in a dark
night to an uncertain future.
Months later, I understand that there are
times in everyones life,when one just
have to overcome the fear to jump. In that respect, my choice to explore the
world, was the best decision I have ever made. Even though I have no idea which
direction my life will move to: the fear is gone, I am now convinced that one
door has closed but another will open for me.
The past few days, I have spent with a
mixed Belgian-British couple. Just before arriving there, I had a little taster
of the local mentality. The plan was for me to take the train to Featherston
where David was going to collect me from the railway station. Already I know
that I would be able to write a book on the Australian trains perhaps I might
add a small chapter on NZ trains?What
abouta train not departing because of a
problem to connect the locomotive to the carriages. The various attempts left
me with a brown suspicion that they did their very best to lull us to sleep.
One gentle bump after the other till finally 15 minutes later, we were ready
to depart. The 4.25 train from Wellington
is the first one in the evening and proves to be completely full. Jenny, the
train conductor ( a cheerful lady, born of Dutch parents, who came to NZ at a young
age) approached a grandmother, travelling with her 4 year old grandson, to ask
if the little boy could sit in the hall as there was an elderly lady with no
seat. To my utter surprise, the grandmother responded very agitated and refusedpoint blank to take the little boy on her lap
or to seat him in the hallway (which I am sure he would have loved since there
were more children in the corridor). I immediately volunteered to give up my
seat but in the meantime the problem had been solved by a mother who had no
problem to take her toddler on her lap. Whats wrong with society, I wonder. Life
doesnt always go over a path of roses However, with a bit of good will from
everyone, the world could be so much nicer.
Once arrived in Featherston, I was to discover
to discover the beautiful house, where I will be staying for the next four
days. Strangely enough I could almost feel the Flemish touch that had
decorated this place as soon as I walked in. Moments later, Patsy arrived home
and from then on there was nothing that was going to stop us : we literally
chatted till our vocal cards were raw! For Patsy, I prove to be the first
Belgian visitor she sees ever since she left the country some good three years
ago. Needless to say that she wouldnt let go of the opportunity to communicate
in her mother tongue. I soon learn that this couple is living proof of the fact
that fairy tales sometimes do become reality.They met each other while Patsy visited New Zealand a meeting that would
change her life for ever after since they are now happily married. This young
woman left everything behind in Belgium
in order to discover her piece of paradise down under. The happy look in her
eyes tells me that she has taken the right decision for sure!
Featherston and Greyston are quiet
villages, settled in the most picturesque landscape. However quiet these
villages end up to be during weekdays, they turn into a busy hive during the
weekend as a lot of city people venture out here in search of that authentic
feeling, that is still hanging around here. The economical crisis has hit here
too as I spot a number of shops to rent as well as an unusual second hand
shops. And guess what I find in one of those LPs from Bouwdewijn de Groot
(Belgian singer), Rob de Nijs (Dutch) , Gilbert Bécaud (French) and Nana
Mouskouri (Greek) .. a piece of long time gone European culture.
Disaster, o disaster , on Sunday morning as
one arm of my glasses just slated. Without them I am as blind as a bat when it
comes to reading. No optician in the village, so I need to try my luck in Wellington. The first
optician, gives me a very worried look before informing me that it will take at
least one week to have my glasses fixed. Given the fact, that I am leaving for Dunedin tomorrow, this is
not really an option. Next shop, same story which leaves me ultimately with no
other option but to buy a new frame. Not a blessing for my budget as I soon
discover that frames are a lot more expensive than in Europe.
However there is some blessing in disguise, since I find a frame with exactly
the same dimensions, allowing me to recycle my lenses. This lady can read again
without any problem!
Meanwhile I am staying overnight in Wellington in order to
catch the plane early in the morning. Although, hearing the news this morning,
in which was announced a volcanic eruption in the northern island and that this
was going to affect air traffic, I started having doubts. Fortunately, I am
heading South, so hopefully the ash cloud will not interfere.
So many times, I have left a place with the
feeling that I will return sooner or later. Not different here Wellington has a special
charm, which is tempting me. Without any fixed schedule, I have no clue whether
I will ever settle here . However a voice deep down inside tells me that Wellington will surely
welcome me with open arms
