Winter wonderland

Thursday morning I awoke to the cacophony of Australian birds like the ones below. 

These are the kinds of birds that visit C's balcony.  How cool are they?  Answer: very.

After two flights, a four hour stopover in LAX (quite possibly the worst airport I’ve had the misfortune of visiting, and I’ve been to airports in Kenya, Cuba, and the Dominican Republic), and more than 17 hours in the air, I emerged in Toronto.  The sun had set.  It wasn’t 6:00 yet.

This morning, I awoke to the kind of silence only heavy snowfall can bring. It’s a calm, insulated silence. One that is only broken by the whoosh of wind rustling the bare tree limbs, and the rumble of snowplows.

A tug of the blinds revealed a scene straight off of a Hallmark card, or an ad for snow tires.

This shot isn't the best -- It lacks some perspective, no?

Thanks to global warming, white Christmases are no longer a given, even in Canada. But this year, old man winter is certainly delivering stuff.

There have already been a few “snow days” – mornings where the weather is deemed too dangerous for school buses to venture out. There is a good three feet of snow on my mother’s front porch, and an astounding five or so in the back yard.

Ahhhh...there's some much-needed perspective. Now do you see what I'm talking about? 
That there is my sister, Val and Chevy.  They are both awesome.

The dog’s house is under a foot of snow.  My mom dropped her GPS somewhere between the car and the house and hasn't see it since.  It'll likely make an appearance some time in April. The other day, they had to send in a helicopter to rescue some people stranded in their cars during a blizzard on a highway not too far from here.

They don’t call this neck of the woods the snow belt for nothing.

If I knew I had another four or five months of this to go, I’d likely be gnashing my teeth, moaning, you know: lamenting bible-style.  But with only four weeks here, I’m saying “bring it on.”

What we had to drive through to get to town this afternoon.

Macro Chevy!

The Eagle (or I guess, the Canadian Goose) has landed

Am at Toronto's Pearson International airport.  I believe I must have been the third or fourth person to clear customs.  I swear, I was out of there in less than three minutes.  Waiting for my bag was a bit longer, but the gleeful reunion with my mom ad soon-to-be stepdad was not to be.  They're not here yet :( Or maybethey are here, but at the wrong gate,  or even wrong terminal.  Gah!

And yet again, Pearson has let me dow in the Tim Horton's department.  There is none to be found in the area.  Boooo.

Anyway, I'm home!  and I was actually thrilled to see the snow. 

TTFN! and wish me luck in finding my peeps.

Being Seduced by Sydney

Oh Sydney, you gorgeous enchantress you (insert sigh of contentment here).

Your sand-fringed beaches beckon me. Your undulating harbours delight.  Your parks and green spaces charm me.  Your lovely climate soothes me. Your myriad of shopping centres entice. Damn you Sydney.  You had me at Hello.

How lucky I am to be in this utopian city again. It’s a place that is no less beguiling the fourth time around. 

This time, I’m lucky enough to be visiting a very good friend of mine, who we will call C.  C has been living in Sydney since July and has been extremely welcoming to the road-weary traveller crashing on her couch.  Having been here a few times before, I’ve run most of the tourist attractions that interest me (Tauranga Zoo, the Opera House, the aquarium etc.) and after two months of hostels, I’m almost shamefully happy to just sit around an empty apartment all day and watch TV and occasionally cook.

Me with some sort of building in the background.

Hyde Park.

That’s not to say that I have been completely sedentary and loser-ish this past week.  I have been keeping somewhat busy. I’ve spent time rediscovering some familiar haunts such as the Botanic Gardens, Darling Harbour and Hyde Park.  I’ve visited a few of the many beaches.  I’ve avoided buying anything beyond essentials (this is a major accomplishment on my part.  The stores here are both plentiful and oh-so-pretty.  It really is a shoppers’ paradise).

Sydney skyline from the Botanic gardens

A few highlights of the week:

•  One night, C and I attended a get-together of Québecois living in Sydney (we figured being franco-Ontarian counted) at a pub in the trendy area known as The Rocks.  It was heaps of fun (as the Ozzies say).  There were about 25 or 30 people at the gathering and it was great to be around the Québécois humour for a while.  It was also so strange to hear people speaking French with a Canadian accent then with an Australian accent in English – many of the people had learned to speak English here and therefore had the distinctive Aussie twang. 

My first weekend here we somewhat spontaneously headed an hour and a half south to the city of Wollongong.  There we hung out on the beach, explored the downtown, and took in some of the local colour at a rather seedy pub where we both enjoyed a drink and spent the night (hotels/pubs/pokies/bars are common here).

One of the lighthouses near Wollongong beach.

Last weekend we headed north to Newcastle, a city that, for some reason, Lonely Planet named Australia’s place to be.  Newcastle does have its charms, mainly of the beach variety, and the YHA where we stayed was top notch, but the city itself was a bit odd.  Though there are a reputed 400,000 inhabitants, there was no obvious downtown.  Big buildings were scarce, and much of the areas we visited were a bit run down.  No matter, we enjoyed ourselves immensely at the beach and (mainly) avoided sunburns.

Wollongong beach

• 



The huge ocean baths in Newcastle.  They're basically ocean-fed pools next to the beach.  The water is calmer, warmer, and there`s no chance of sharks! They're fairly common at beaches here, but these ones are huge.  They.re actually the biggest in the Southern Hemisphere. 





The main beach in Newcastle

• I went snorkelling at Clovelly beach, a narrow strip of sand and surf between much more popular Bondi and Coogee beaches.

Clovelly beach.  While "snorkeling" (swimming with goggles) I saw quite a few fish, including a particularly nice blue one.

It’s a strange time to be here.  Not only is the Christmas paraphernalia out in force, but so is the Oprah mania.  The talk show queen is in the country officially to film two shows, and unofficially to promote tourism in Australia.  The government actually shelled out $3 million to bring her and some 300 of her viewers here in the hopes of boosting tourism.  Her antics have been dominating the news here for the past week.

The temporarily renamed "Oprah" house.  I feel bad for first-time visitors to Sydney whose view of the iconic building is marred by the stage and all the other eyesores.



The famous Bondi Beach. If you're needing a knock to your ego, this is the place to go. The beach is thicék with hard and bronzed bodies. 



Sydney Harbour bridge.

As you can see, I've been wandering around a bit barefoot here too. In the distance you can see Bondi.

A stunning cemetary overlooking the ocean between Bondi and Coogee beaches

These are a few of my favourite things that I can't have here.

In a very short week, I'll be home and I must say, I'm excited.

Of course I miss the people most of all -- family, friends and, it goes without saying, Chevy the dog.  That's a given.

But loved ones aside, I miss a few other things quite a bit, and I plan on indulging in them at least a few times over the month I will be at home:

• Baths  Showers are good and all, but there's nothing like soaking in warm water and reading a book or even having a glass of wine.
• Sleeping on a real bed    Two words:  Bunk beds.  One number: 31 (years). The two should not mix.
• Tim Horton's hot chocolate and coffee  I will very very likely be scratching this itch within an hour of landing in our fair country.  Sweet.
• marshmallows  It's not that I'm a huge fan or anything, but the marshmallows here are just odd and fake tasting. 
• Poutine  It is a crime that this has not caught on elsewhere, but to be fair, no one makes cheese curds like Quebec (actually, does anyone even try?)
• Air popped popcorn and Kernels  I don't think my love of puffy deliciousness is a secret. It was generally the main component of one meal a week back in Canada. I think I'm suffering from withdrawal.
• Butter tarts  yet another delicacy that hasn't gone global for some unknown reason. Shame.
• Maple Syrup  self explanatory.
• Chips of the all dressed and cheddar variety  They have lots of very good chips here (or crisps as they say in NZ) and in flavuors we don't have in Canada -- Lamb and mint, chicken, balsamic vinegar and onion, sweet and tangy, etc.  But no all dressed or plain cheddar (or dill pickle for that matter, but I don't like them anyway, so I'm OK with that)
• Sandwhiches from La Botegga in Ottawa  Take the best sandwhich you have ever had and throw it to the ground, stomp on it, spit on it, and turn your back on it and walk away to La Botegga and get yourself the most mouth-watering square of cheese, meat and bread you will ever have.  mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
• Pizza from either Picollo's in Lafontaine, or Lorenzo's or Collonade in Ottawa  This part of the world has tons of great Thai, Indian, Japanese, Turkish and Cantonese food.  But for some reason, pizza eludes them.  The crust is dry and bland.  the sause uninspired.  Cheese is woefully scant. Oh, the humanity.  I want a slice (or 5) of pizza dripping with greese and tastiness. 
• President's Choice fizzy water  It's so good, so healthy, and so cheap!
• My mom's granola and soup
  (not together, obviously).  My mom may not know how to glaze a ham to perfection, or how to braise a lamb shank (she's a vegetarian), but the woman makes the best granola and soup.  Bar none.
• Christmas cookies, both the baking and consuming of them  Sugar cookies, shortbread, ginger bread, and -- a personal favourite -- peanut butter balls.  You will be mine.  Oh yes, you will be mine. 

Feel free to enable me in this endeavour.  As you can imagine, I will very likely be putting on 10 pounds or so over the month.  Be warned.

It’s beginning to look a lot like (bizarro) Christmas

I keep having to remind myself that Christmas is a scant few weeks away.  It’s not that there aren’t reminders – stores of every ilk are hawking their wares with a festive spin (“It wouldn’t be Christmas without a new set of patio chairs!”  “Dingo’s World of Socks: For all your Christmas needs” “Get all your Chrissy prezzies at The Athlete’s Foot”). 

Decorations drip from awnings, tree limbs, and window frames. There was even a Santa Clause parade in Auckland last weekend (I missed it) complete with floating snow man (which makes absolutely zero sense given that it’s currently in the mid-twenties there).

Despite all this, I find it impossible to get in the festive spirit.  It’s just too weird to have Christmas lights when the sun doesn’t set until 9:00 pm. And that there are huge fake pine trees decorating building lobbies and public spaces when all the other trees around are fully covered in leaves, and many of them are palms. And that I’m traipsing around in sandals and sporting a rather impressive tan.

Well, in a short week I’ll be back in the land of REAL Christmas. You know, snow, darkness, cold.  Somewhere where the sight of someone in a fur-lined red suit doesn’t make you itchy.  Where “Let it Snow” and “Jingle Bells” and “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire” make sense.

But, I guess “I’m dreaming of a White Christmas” fits for once.

Let's have a look at what Christmas looks like down under:

Decoration in a swank Sydney shopping centre.

Kitchiest Christmas tree ever in Darling Harbour

The coolest Christmas tree in Auckland's Western park.  It was basically strings of lights -- 350,000 of them. Every night there was a light show and there were bean bag chairs set up beneath it so you could lie at the base and watch.  I did for 30 minutes.  It was trippy.

The huge Whitcools Santa and his reindeeer. I guess he's an annual fixture. Two years ago he had an inexplicable wagging finger.  They've scrapped it, unfortunately.

Going Native

An aspect of kiwi culture that I find rather charming and quaint is the fact that going barefoot is so acceptable here. 

It’s actually fitting, given that it’s the unofficial land of Hobbits. 

It’s not uncommon to see folks (men, mostly) traipsing about un-shod in the street, at the shop, or in the mall. Never will you see one of those stern “no shirt, no shoes, no service” signs hanging in a window.  It’s jarring at first, but I really like it now.

I like it so much, that I decided to give it a go last week.  Three days in a row I set out on errands barefoot (though I carried a pair of shoes in my purse, just in case).  It was rough going at first, especially since my first attempt was in an area where the road was rather bumpy and uncomfortable. My next two forays were on smooth sidewalks, through a park and even into a store (!) and it went very well. I’ve been assured that with time, my feet would become tougher. 

I’m not sure I’ll make a big habit of it, especially since I’m going to be away from NZ for the next six weeks, but it was still a fun experience to have.

Island hopping in Auckland

I am quite the neglectful blogger, aren’t I?

A thousand apologies for my absence of late.  I have no excuses beyond general laziness. It happens.

What have I been up to these days? Well, I spent ten days in sunny Auckland going for long walks, catching up with some mates, eating great food and drinking far too much wine.

One of the highlight of the week was that I managed to visit three of the islands in Auckland’s Hauraki Gulf.

Leaving on the ferry from Auckland harbour.

First on the menu was Rangitoto island which, atop of sporting a name that is oh-so-fun to say, is really pretty interesting.  The 5.5km long island formed some 600 years ago after a series of volcanic eruptions. 

From afar, the island’s volcanic heritage is apparent thanks to its conical peak.  Up close, it’s fairly obvious too.  The terrain is littered with dark, jagged rock and the vegetation (of which there was more than I had expected) is of the hardy and stunted variety.  It took me about 45 minutes to walk to the island’s summit and I enjoyed the beautiful views along the way. 

Yet another awkward pose thanks to the ten-second timer.

mmmmmm...old lava

What was less enjoyable was the teeming mass of young teens lounging noisily at the top. It appears that it was a 70-student-strong school group on a field trip. They were well behaved, as far as teens go, but the decibel levels (think giggling, screaming, cell phones playing music) were a bit off putting when all I was hoping to hear were birds and the occasional passing plane.

I shouldn’t have despaired, for I was soon to get that solitude and silence I craved.  Within the hour I had reboarded the ferry (thanks to its handy hop-on, hop-off service) and was deposited on the much grassier Motuihe island. Though the island was far from deserted (a few dozen people alit from the boat at the same time as me and yet another school group was enjoying a field trip on this island), it was much easier to distance oneself from the pack than on Rangitoto thanks to a wide variety of walking tracks.

With nearly three hours to kill before the ferry returned to collect passengers, I quickly set off to explore. Not really knowing where I wanted to go, I decided to wander about and see what the island had to offer.  Turns out it had a fair bit: grassy fields, pretty trees, huge plants, secluded beaches, and lots of birds. Other than the boats drifting by in the distance, I didn’t see another human for over an hour.  It was glorious. 

My own little secluded beach.

On the weekend my friend Inky (whom you may remember from Christchurch some six weeks ago) and I headed out to the most popular of the Hauraki Gulf islands.  A mere half-hour boat ride from Auckland, Waiheke is home to some 8,000 people, and during the summer months, some 3,000+ cottagers, and countless tourists and daytrippers descend on its pretty shores.  It’s not hard to see why. 

From the sky, Waiheke looks like a big ol’ inkspot, which means it boasts dozens of picturesque bays, a number of swimming beaches, and plenty of fishing spots.  Its enviable climate lends itself well to wine production, and as such many small vineyards produce some decent (if pricey) whites.

It was a nice weekend. Inky got to partake in his rugged outdoorsy pursuits (sleeping in the bush, spearfishing, rock climbing, cliff jumping), while I enjoyed the calmer side of island living (sleeping in a hostel, lying on the sand, floating in the sea). An activity we both enjoyed was drinking wine on the beach (wish this was doable in Georgian Bay) and eating a delicious meal at the Skinny Sardine (stuffed chicken breast and sinfully buttery garlic mashed potatoes for me – I’m salivating just thinking about it). 

Setting sun over Auckland.

Sun setting over Waiheke

My last two days in Auckland I didn’t do much beyond tying up some lose ends, repacking my bag, and visiting a friend I’d made my first week in the country.  It was pretty chill.

As many of you have likely see via Facebook, I now find myself in soggy Sydney. It's apparently been raining here an extraordinary amount these past few months (which explains why I’m inside writing rather than enjoying Bondi or Manly beaches). I’m here until the 16^th at which time I’m hopping a plane back to Canada for Christmas and some rather important nuptuals. I’m looking forward to it.