Look what I found

Can you tell what it is? They're really hard to find here in New Zealand and it has been ages since we've eaten any. About two years I suppose. Any ideas?

It's a waffle iron. Waffles are not popular here. In fact, when I excitedly took over a taste of our first waffle to our kiwi neighbours, they had never before tasted waffle. So, where did I find such a desirable beauty? Well, it all started with a trip to the beach.

Saturday morning woke up warm and beautiful, so after a quick trip to the market, we headed back over the hills into Sumner. We met up with some friends there with our swim gear, sun screen and lots of ideas. While Stephen and Gavin grabbed some surf boards and headed out to the waves, Nina and I stripped down to our swim suits and splashed and played in the waves. Body surfing, running in place, trying really, really hard not to swallow any salt water (to no avail). And Matt and Emily watched from the rocky beach, taking pictures and enjoying the heat. After a meander down to the ice cream shop to dry off (and get ice cream obviously) we jumped back into the car and drove home.

On the way home we passed by a little shop that had long intrigued us. We had walked past in once or twice before when it was open and peeked into the darkened door way, glimpsing piles of teetering pots, ragged books and long forgotten toys and tools. Today it was once again open and we had the time. So we screeched to a park and jumped out of the car.

Stepping into this place was like walking into a story book. We emerged from the warm heat of the sunny, summer day to a dimly lit, musty aired, cool room so jam packed full of stuff there was hardly room to stand. We squeezed our way in between glass cases filled with mismatched tea settings and tiny glass figurines, a stuffed lamb with a bow-tie placed on top of a pile of cloth-covered books and a decomposing fish mounted on the wall, piles of records and a strange looking metal contraption on a pillar. Wait - could that be. . .? A waffle iron! A beautiful, round silver waffle iron. A short search brought up a cord, a quick test with an outlet and then the bartering began. After a good barter, a quick trip home and a bike trip back, I eventually wound up with a waffle iron. And this morning we enjoyed a delicious breakfast of tasty waffles with maple syrup, yogurt and fruit salad.

[mmmmmm - waffles]

Golden Bay

After our lovely tramp in the rain and delightful soak at Maruia Springs, we hopped into our car and drove up the island to Golden Bay. One of the teachers Stephen teaches with has a house up there and had invited us to drop by and visit. We drove past flooding rivers and green, green pastures, up mountain roads and through little towns with names like Paenga and Pokororo. We drove and we drove and finally we had one more pass to go. This one was in fact a surprise. We certainly hadn't expected such a steep and winding and seemingly endless (the thick fog didn't help) mountain pass just before our final destination, but we persevered and eventually popped out on top of the hill, blue skies above us, thick soupy fog behind us and a clear view to our final destination.

We arrived a wee bit late for dinner, but our lovely hostess had waited and after a short walk on the beach, we tucked into a true British curry at 9pm. Then it was quickly off to bed and dreaming of sunshine and sand.

And that is exactly what we got the next day. Pancakes for breakfast, then off down to the beach to collect mussels for our dinner. Wainui Beach is one of the boring beaches (or so we were told), but just off-shore was a mussel farm and on one side of the beach there was a collection of boulders that provided home to the more wild mussels. So we wandered on down, picking up seashells and sand dollars along the way.

Eventually we found ourselves in amongst the rocks. The mussels however were about the size of a quarter/Kiwi dollar/British pound - they were very small. Certainly too small to eat. But we kept looking and eventually found some edible looking ones tucked deep into the crevasses of the boulders. So we picked a few of them and wandered on back to the car.

On the way back to Pohara, where our hostesses house was, we were dropped off at another beach (Tata Beach) so that we could enjoy the lovely day by walking home along the coast.

Tata Beach is another beautiful example of the large and plentiful beach found in Golden Bay. We threw the disc around - until I tossed it out into the ocean and Stephen had to go up to his waist to get it back. Eventually, we made it to the end of the sand and the start of the headland that would bring us around to the next beach. This is where our awesome rock-climbing/scrambling skills came into play.

Up - over - around - under - ooooo, cool bug - up again - hmmmm, over or under . . . under - and finally, the last wade through the sea to the beach - oh, that not the beach, there's still a lagoon in the way. . . with very sucky mud.

But finally, we made it (another one of Stephens teacher friends pointed a safe way across the mucky-bottomed lagoon where he and his daughter were fixing their boat). We wandered down Ligar Beach and up towards the road (the next head land looked somewhat more daunting than the last).

We walked back along the road, with a quick stop in at a little coffee and ice cream boat to fuel up and finally made it home. It was suggested we all head out to the nearby fish farm and catch ourselves some salmon to go with our mussels for dinner. It is more than somewhat difficult to say no to a good idea, so we hopped in the car and drove down to Anatoki Salmon.

Anatoki Salmon Farm grows Chinook Salmon for distribution to restaurants all over New Zealand. It also invites people to come by, borrow a fishing rod and net and catch their own fish. Once caught, you can take your fish to their fishmonger, who will clean them for you and if you like, hot smoke them with the flavouring of your choice. We opted for a cilantro-garlic rub for one hot smoked salmon and the other to be simply cleaned for BBQing later. Then it was back in the car and home to rustle up some dinner.

Dinner was delicious - if a little surprising. After a good clean and de-bearding, we steamed our lovely mussels in some white wine with chillis and ginger, then topped them with some beach picked fennel. Stephen, sliced and boiled some potatoes to grill up on the BBQ. And all this was served along side our yummy hot smoke salmon caught just 30 minutes prior and the only two lemons on our hostesses lemon tree. It's always a joy to be able to make up a dinner from the land around you and we thoroughly enjoyed this one - despite the unanticipated extras found in some of the mussels.

Who knew that tiny shore crabs and mussels had a symbiotic relationship, wherein the mussel provides shelter and the crab eats any unwanted rubbish that comes inside.

Weekend life

Last Friday Stephen and I went to our first Rugby game. It was the Canterbury Crusaders vs. the Wellington Hurricanes. The stadium (still half built) was packed and there was beer and fries in plenitude. I seem to have spent half the night watching the people around me to know when to cheer and when not to. In the end it didn't really matter as our team (yes, the local one) lost. And pretty badly at that. But the rain had held off so far and it was warm, so the night was not completely lost. We biked around for a bit and then went home.

The next day, I woke up, excited about the market that morning. Fresh fruit and veggies, meat and as-local-as-it-comes beer, there was even a chicken liver pate competition on this week. So it was to my dismay to walk outside and find my bike no longer locked up in the shed where I had left it the night before. Man was I ever pissed off. I mean it's not just stealing a thing, it's my mode of transportation, and it made Christchurch feel so much bigger and everything much further away. So I spent the day fuming about having to take the bus and looking at every single bike we went past to see if it was mine. Unfortunately we never passed my bike and I therefore didn't get the chance to jump somebody.

Sunday was much better. With the warm sun and quiet breeze it was hard to stay upset for long. Instead we packed up our swimming togs and headed down to the beach. After a picnic lunch, we played in the waves, body surfing, swimming, splashing, and just sitting. By the time we got out the wind had picked up just a wee bit to level of sand blaster and we decided to pack our stuff up and go for a walk. We watched surfers and kayakers play in the waves, before heading back to the bus and home again. And after a minor incident involving a sharp knife, the tip of my thumb and an excessive amount of tape and blood, we ate dinner, watched a James Bond movie and headed into bed.

The week has gone by relatively quickly since then. I've had several calls from various policemen to assure me they are looking for my bike. I have since purchased a new bike (one that will be covered by our insurance this time). And bogglingly enough I have also received a cheque for 220$ from my landlord who adamantly insists he should pay for it. To quote a childhood favorite of mine "These Kiwis are crazy!"

Today we celebrate Stephens' birthday. And in the tradition of Stephen, that means staying late at school (on a Friday) to finish up homework that is due late next month. I'm hoping to drag him back home at least in time for dinner and a cake, but we'll see. He is bigger than me.

Hope you're all doing well and enjoying spring,

Erin

PICTURES

New Brighton beach; just a 15 minute bike away from our place. Lots of waves, lots of people.

The giant chess set available for use any day you want it.

The market in Cathedral Square open every day (sunshine mandatory).

Punting on the river Avon which leads pretty much straight to our door, perhaps we should invest in a boat. . . . .

Stephen in our little kitchen. What it lacks in space it certainly makes up in style.