Welcome to the Beautiful South

For those of you who were wondering what had happened to me, last “seen” stuck in a thermal mud pool, I’ve spent two amazing weeks in New Zealand’s South Island. Now I am in Melbourne and having had meat and some sleep for the first time in 3 weeks I have just about enough energy to regale to you all my adventures. I appreciate that some of you have limited reading time and I realise that my e-mails have expanded rather exponentially akin to Harry Potter novels so I will try to be as brief as possible. Please note however, that that promise may prove to be just lip service as it is a challenge to cut down when I’m visiting such terrific places and meeting interesting people. Plus this time I have to cover two weeks.... Hey, I know, why don't you just print this out and read it at home instead?

Oh well, lets not waste anymore time and get this road on the show.

So as you probably got from my last e-mail New Zealanders, aka Kiwis, have a really good nature complemented by a wickedly dry sense of humour. Personally it took some adjustment to be around such genuinely nice people for long periods of time so it came as a relief to hear that even the Kiwis have their chips and issues.

Firstly, Kiwis hate Aussies, often making jokes suggesting that Australians are not too intelligent. Whether that be true or not, the Aussies lost whatever chance they had of a fair hearing in New Zealand when they bowled an under arm bowl at the end of some crucial test match a few years back thus preventing NZ from winning with a six. This grudge is so ingrained in the Kiwi identity that its even mentioned in their national museum!

Secondly, there is fierce competition between the North and South Island. Basically the general opinion is that if you only visit one you should opt for the South and that there isn't much of worth to see on the North Island. Having visited both I can see why you would go for the South as it is so sensational and breathtaking. That said, I really liked the North. In its own way it more than just a little incredible and I think its a place with amazing surroundings that’s still liveable in - the South doesn't strike me as a place you could live a normal life in unless you were a sheep farmer or a bungy instructor (or a sheep bungy instructor.. interesting!) Anyway, I think one of the drivers summed it up well (obviously he was a North Islander) when he said that the South is astounding because of its stark differences - lots of giant mountains, glaciers and amazing lakes but the North has much more variety in a smaller area - large lakes, alpine areas, desert terrains, thermal areas plus rolling pastures. Whatever, like most regional grievances rational arguments hold little weight so I would just suggest that you come and visit both and decide for yourself and please don’t attempt to convince any of the locals to change their minds.

Finally, all Kiwis (North or South) hate Aucklanders. Auckland is not the capital but it is the city with the largest population and the nearest you’re going to get to an international city. Aucklanders are nicknamed JAFAs which apparently are some kind of food but as one driver explained its also an acronym for Just Another F^&%ing Aucklander! Kiwis living out of Auckland don’t get on with these big city people more or less for the same reason as any city people and country people don’t get on, for example many are disgruntled as petrol prices were recently raised nationally by 5c to fund road building in Auckland which has notoriously bad transport systems. Many of our guides were Aucklanders who’d moved on desperately trying to forge new identities and loyalties in other parts of the country so one way to get a Kiwi wound up is by making them reveal their true Auckland roots!

Anthropology lessons aside lets get back to ME!

I finished off my visit in the North Island by spending a day in Wellington. IMHO it was slightly reminiscent of San Francisco - coloured houses overlooking a beautiful bay. This comparison seems appropriate as Wellington shares up to 3 major fault lines with the home of the Golden Gate. As a result Wellington experiences a lot of quake activity (quakes happen 95% of the time, obviously mostly harmless) - parts of the city as known today didn't even exist until they were brought up by an earthquake in 1855! This phenomenon plus other unique Kiwi facts are explained and demonstrated very effectively at New Zealand’s national museum Te Papa where I spent a couple of hours before leaving the city. Opened a couple of years ago. Te Papa serves not only as a national monument (its name correctly revealing its politically correct slant) but as one local friend suggested it also serves the dilemma of what to do in Wellington if you only have time to do one thing.

So that and other errands done (internet, supermarket and book exchange) I left Wellington from its “international airport”. Like Hong Kong, the runway in Wellington airport is surrounded by water which limits the kinds of aircraft that can land and take off to a Boeing 737 as the largest. Our plane was a 12 passenger plane which according to others I was travelling with was huge compared to what we could have flown in. I of course loved it and behaved like a child taken into the cockpit. Well we were basically flying in the cockpit as it was a studio flat of passenger planes. The seatbelts were amusingly like the one (!) I had fitted in my VW Beetle and there was less headroom than in my Hyundai Atoz but that just added to the cosy atmosphere! Being at close quarters with the pilot meant all fears of turbulence were a laid as I guess looking up and seeing the pilot chatting - “look no hands!” meant I was worrying over nothing. The view was amazing as we flew into the South Island over the Marlborough Sounds - just the beginning of that whole huge mountain, great lakes thing and before I knew it we had arrived in Picton Airport. Akin to the proportions of our plane Picton airport terminal was literally a garden shed. As we drove into town by bus where we passed Picton corner store which was at least 4 times the size of the airport!

Taking a break from the “Magic Bus” itinerary for a couple of days my next stop was Nelson by regular InterCity bus as it was to be my base for going onto one of New Zealand’s National Parks, the Abel Tasman. (If I said that the Magic Bus drivers were like Galgalaz or Virgin 1215 then just think of InterCity bus drivers as the Radio 2 of bus drivers, need I say more?)

It’s not surprising that the Abel Tasman trek is one of the most popular walks as it is basically an up-to 3 day trek of delicious rainforest overlooking secluded beaches. I chose to do a 2 day option where we kayaked one day up to one of the two beaches which have running drinking water, camped overnight and then walked on further until the water taxi picked me up and returned me to base. Apart from the first 15 minutes of kayaking where every muscle in my upper torso and arms went on unilateral protest at this undue strain it was a totally enjoyable experience as the weather and scenery were awesome plus I had that feeling of virtue of great adventure as well. As we were kayaking our guide and instructor Chris (NB all guides in New Zealand are called Chris) pointed out mountains where the opening scene of Lord of the Rings was set. I asked him if he saw it being filmed and he said no, he just recognised it from the film. I could identify with that coming from famous filming land myself (Fawlty Towers of course - the episode with the broken down car and the restaurant, you know...) Obviously everyone in New Zealand knows their local L.O.R.R. spot which is good as all the tourists are looking for them. What’s amusing is the number of people reading the book as if it was necessary travel reading. So much so that on occasion I almost felt it important to point out that the book wasn’t actually based in New Zealand but I never did as after all why discourage good reading hobbits, sorry habits!

I was actually travelling at this point with Su from the Isle of Man a woman I’d met earlier on in the week who’d asked to join me for the trek. This went to prove that you don’t necessarily stay life long friends with everyone you meet on your travels. All was bearable until she woke me up during the night saying she thought she’d heard a possum eating her food outside and that she was scared so should she go out? I assured her that I had food to share and that maybe if she was scared she shouldn’t go outside, advice that she promptly ignored choosing instead to go out and shine a bright torch on an animal that can actually be dangerous and then come back in and moan the rest of the night. Fortunately by the morning her possum encounter had tired her so much that she preferred to stick around and have the water taxi pick her and our stuff up from the beach where we had camped. This left me to do the walk by myself, a much calming experience. I was rerouted in my path as by the time I left the tide was too high for me to take the quicker low tide route but the high tide route from Anchorage beach to Torrent Bay is not quite as frustrating as an A41 detour or the back road via Ein Kerem and I just gloried in the stunning silver beeches overlooking the sea as I strolled through.

It seems appropriate at this juncture to mention how New Zealand is known as the Land of the Floating Cloud. The reason behind this seemingly derogatory nickname became clear during my Abel Tasman trip . Unlike many countries where clouds are just dull things in the sky that more than often signal bad weather, in New Zealand they rule. A cloud can change the lighting, the plethora of colours, the whole dimensions of a place. Sitting on the beach waiting for sunset, with one majestic move the whole mood of the beach changes from daylight to golden glow, the hills reflect different hues of greens and blues. The clouds are so large and majestic, it is clear that the name was given out of a deep knowledge and appreciation of the country.

Finishing my Abel Tasman trip on Friday afternoon this meant that I had to stayed in Nelson for Shabbat before moving on. Not a bad little town it was still not the most riveting of weekends. I stayed in the YHA which whilst perfectly clean, functional and well located, it lacked slightly in personality as did most of its residents - the Youth in YHA is often ironic. I coped by visiting the craft market and the town’s four bookshops (respect!) during the day (safest time to visit when you can’t spend money) as well as the local cathedral which had a roped off section marking where Queen Elizabeth sat 50 years ago indicating the frequency of celebrity visits to these parts. The cathedral also had an amusing saga about its building plans which reminded me somewhat of the great Kenton shul extension fiasco, pardon, plans of 1986 so I guess there was a Shabbat connection there somewhere.

Sunday morning I eagerly got up early to leave to get back to Picton where I would be picking up the trans-coastal train to Christchurch. I ended up hanging about in Picton, a kind of a Bournemouth resort but without the pier, for a while. an hour of internet plus a walk out to a harbour view later I was more than itchy to meet up with interesting people again. I was beginning to worry that my earlier stint had just been beginners luck. Knowing that this was not something I could really control I found myself just praying for anything to lift the boredom.

G-d bless, the Lord does listen occasionally. Upon boarding the train within 10 minutes I met up with someone who was to be on my Magic bus the next morning - “Quality” Kevin from Catford who was joined at the next stop by “Class” Mick from just outside Belfast. Kevin and Mick proved to be two really good blokes to whom I chatted to for the whole of the 6 hour journey (347km in 6 hours makes Railtrak look supersonic). It was a beautiful train ride passing through Kaikoura “the” place to swim with dolphins, whales, sharks and other swimming pool hogs and onto Christchurch. By the time we arrived, noting the brick houses, non existent in the more quake prone areas of the North it seemed that the description of Christchurch as the most English of towns outside England was not necessarily complimentary. More importantly by this time we’d realised that tonight was St Patrick's Day and that Mick being obviously Irish and Kevin whose parents were Irish had some celebrating to do. Well we taxied to our hostels together and arranged to meet later at “The Bog“ pub. By that time Kevin and Mick had been joined by Ruth from County Cork and it was fair to say that if my Purim celebrations were a little toned down this year I made up for it with St Paddy's day. Wherever we were it was clear that everyone and everything was Irish for the night. We heard two different live bands, I learnt how to jig and even saw 2 of the England cricket team (Butcher and Flintoff I do believe) tanked up following their success (finally!) against New Zealand. (There were also plenty of fans - England’s “barmy army“ hanging around too.) A good time was definitely had by all....

Next morning we met up with the new Magic gang (Jo who worked on the Whitsunday Islands in Oz but knew about boats from home in South England - rather Howard's Way like; Dianne, 30+ from Manhattan who’d just got in from Asia via Melbourne and was v West side in the nicest way; Justin, from Devon who I’d already met up North on a holiday after working in Oz who managed to describe anything and everything bungy and hostels alike as “it was ok”; Olly and Vicky “just friends, just out of uni and touring the world; Roz, 50+ finally touring the world leaving her kids at him; Richard and Linda from Sweden and so on) and headed down to Mount Cook and glacier country. As we drove through the initial flat lands of the Canterbury plains the weather was a bit grim but slowly got better. (this kind of matched Mick and Kevin’s hangovers as they had stayed out all night after walking myself and Ruth home at about 1:30.) The landscape soon became hilly and alpine-like until we could see snow capped mountains. Lakes Tekapo and Pukaki displayed a stunning aqua blue colour, the result of glacier silts apparently. Whatever, the view was stunning - real chocolate box cheesy. One of the outposts we were brought to was the Church of the Last Shepherd, a small chapel about the size of a small rural airport terminal. This was set up so that the front of the church had a big window over looking this stunning view in place of an ark (excuse the comparison - lehavdil) . All I can say is that I can’t imagine anyone having problems getting some kind of kavanah together there. By the way this would be a good point to warn you to be careful when guidebooks tell you that something is really isolated. Even if it looks so in the picture it just means the picture was taken when the last tourist bus had driven off. Trust me if its in a guidebook, it aint going to be too isolated!

Our new driver proved himself to be quite amusing as he told us about the various animals that have been introduced to the New Zealand countryside and then have had to been eradicated due to environmental problems over the years (The British and other European busybodies proving themselves to be the ultimate pests) As well as the polystyrene sheep (what do you mean no, did you ever see them move?) he also pointed out the two kinds of possum - the garden variety, brown and found in the fields etc and the other that was brown, red and flat and could be found on the roads....

Arriving at the Mt Cook resort we couldn’t do any of the glacier boat activities as they were all booked up due to earlier tours postponed because of that morning’s bad weather. However we were able to take walks at the bottom and gaze up at New Zealand’s tallest mountain (slightly shorter since losing 10 m in the early nineties) in all its glory. We were very lucky as it has been known to be under cloud for up to 5 weeks at a time and for us it was totally lucid and clear of cloud. The Mt Cook settlement is only small, made up of researcher housing and a couple of hotel-like places (we stayed in chalets belonging to one of the hotels) so there was absolutely no light pollution. This meant that that night we were treated to the starriest night I’ve ever seen - milky ways, galaxies, dairy milk, the lot - really fantastic!

[OK I have a confession. Every time history to do with Captain Cook is mentioned I get confused with Captain Hook. I reiterate. Please do not rely on my e-mails for correct historical fact - use your guide books!]

Back to the story. Well as the saying goes, it’s alway calmest before the storm and that night it was incredibly stormy and we set off for Queenstown amidst a huge down pouring of rain. On the bright side as the sun struggled to peak through we saw many rainbows out the window and yesterday’s lakes were transformed with ripples and waves, providing stunning scenery all the way down to Queenstown.

Now for those of you who don’t know - Queenstown is the self-proclaimed adventure capital of the world. The first bungy ever was set up here by A J Hackett in 1988 and today there are 65 different activities you can do. This according to Chris the driver (remember what I said about Chris’s) would cost you $4500 NZ to do them all and would take you minimum of 9 days (weather conditions providing). I think the hardest part about Queenstown is that in addition to the crazy day activities there is also a hectic nightlife there too. Its totally touristy but in a relatively tasteful way and its bizarre to look down what looks like a regular high street but find adventure shops, internet stops, trendy bars and outdoor adventure clothing outlets instead of chemists and newsagents! All this overlooking a stunning lake and mountains, for a change (am I getting too blase perhaps?)

Bungy not interesting me much... my first adventure was rather low risk - a day trip to the Milford Sound. Actually technically my first adventure in Queenstown was a visit to the Doctor. I’d been feeling a bit dodgy and my glands were up so I thought I’d be sensible. $60 later plus medication it came down to allergies but isn't it amazing how much doctors like to chat when they’re not tied down to NHS regulations or Kupa/HMO quotas!

Back to Milford Sound... Situated in “Fjordland - that's an area not a fun park” Milford Sound is really a fjord it just seems it was named that way to make it easier to pronounce. To clarify, a sound is a drowned river valley, a fjord is a drowned glacier valley. We drove down 5 hours to reach this body of water where we took a cruise where we could stare up at these giant mountains and waterfalls. That said, the ride was awesome in itself. Following a bland Hugh Grant movie which allowed us to catch up on sleep and then good chats with Heather an English girl I’d met on Magic who was one of the most travelled people I’d met (she’d visited Israel before and had a passion for world politics so the “what’s life like?“ questions could be answered with slightly more depth and intelligence) we then reached the point where we were just gazing outside and straining our necks to look up and see everything around us as everything was so enormous. On the way we drove past the beginning of several of amazing 3-4 day tracks which I’ll have to attempt on my next visit, when I have more time. We also stopped off on the Milford Road for various photo opportunities. This road was built by depression workers between 1929-1954 - toll roads now pay for all the maintenance needed due to little things such as tree avalanches and rocks the size of houses rolling onto the road. It rained on the way but that was good news as it just created new, spontaneous waterfalls. The cruise itself was wonderful and serene interrupted only by dolphins showing off outside and a spoilt Israeli teenager having a tantrum inside. The journey back was more sleep and movie focussed allowing sufficient rest before meeting up with the rest of the gang that night. Like we needed an excuse to drink - Mick was moving on due to time restraints so obviously a good send-off was called off.

I guess it was slightly bad timing on my part, if unavoidable, to do my high risk option about 3 hours after getting back from the aforementioned send-off. This option was the Shotover river three - White water rafting, a maniac ride on the Shotover jet ski and a helicopter ride through Skippers Canyon in the middle. At 7:30 in the morning my main challenge was clearly going to coping with the two v loud American women who were in on leave from their military base in Japan than any of the aqua-adventures. Encounters with people like these made me realise that thank G-d, the vast majority of Americans are nowhere near as loud or as obnoxious as we sometimes like to pretend they are. Loud Americans and hangovers aside white water rafting was a fun experience - the rubbery outfits made one identify pretty well with a flattened Michelin man and grade 3 rapids were sufficient to give the beginner experience with a kick. The helicopter ride through the valley was thrilling but not long enough, and the jet ski was an adrenalin rush however unfortunately it was raining which meant we had the added effect of feeling like we had hail stones being thrust in our faces. Mmmm - pleasant! On return to my hostel at 2:30 I was absolutely knackered and was already to shower and change into nice clean clothes when I realised I didn't have any - grrrr! Just as I finished my laundry, my Canadian friends from the North Island popped round (we‘d bumped into each other, the previous evening), one thing led to another and before I knew it was time to go meet people to go up on the gondoliers and watch the sunset over Queenstown.

Oh for the calm routine of the office............. not!

Friday morning and the Queenstown survivors head off to Wanaka, on a 50K road which takes and hour and a half - trust me it was windy. On recommendation I had chosen to stay in Wanaka for Shabbat. Before parting company we visit “Puzzling World” a couple of kilometres out of the town. This was a bizarre activity place (most bizarre by its location I think) dedicated to optical illusion and the like. Between the room on a 15 degree slant and the maze it was probably just all a bit too early in the morning to be fully appreciated! After photos by the bus I said good bye to all and was dropped off at The Purple Cow youth hostel (probably some reference to the Milka cow I suppose). I knew straight away that this had been sound advice (all from the women's magazines real life journalist Anna I’d met in Christchurch, yes those stories do really happen). Wanaka is built round a lake with glacier scenery and the hostel had huge windows from the reception and dining room which meant whatever you were doing you couldn't help but look out on this golden vision. After my hectic week in Queenstown it was just what the doctor ordered. Funnily enough about 10 minutes after I’d checked in Kevin walked in. He said he’d been in the supermarket getting supplies before the next stop and he looked around and asked himself why he was rushing through such a beautiful place. He also confessed to being exhausted from the week’s activities so I was rather relieved to find out that it wasn't just me who felt like an altakakker!

I had meant to a sky dive that afternoon but it was too windy so I postponed it till Sun morning. Meanwhile I took a bike ride on Friday afternoon out to one of the bays where I sat and chilled. On the way I rode past some amazing houses and quite a few building sites. By the extent of activity it would seem that some land had just recently come up for sale. Forget what they tell you in Ramat Bet Shemesh or even Boring Wood. Trust me, this is real prime location. Any noisy neighbours, ehm, the seagulls?

Enough energy exerted, I made my way back to the hostel and concentrated on lazing, sleeping, eating and reading over Shabbat, occasionally chatting to others I met in the hostel. For some reason this hostel had quite a few Israelis and it was here that my Israeli policy crystallized. Israelis in groups of 1 or 2 (3 maybe but you could be pushing it) are on the whole a pleasure to meet and to play landsleit with. More than that and you’re onto a chamoulla who you want to avoid like the plague. My logic is that in small groups they are being genuine thinking travellers who want to get to know the place and people around them. More than that and then they’re oblivious to anyone-else, they haven't really escaped their own world and can be totally rude and obnoxious to anyone who gets in their way. Vast generalization of course but who said this e-mail was objective?

Anyway back to relaxing... I did actually venture out for a walk in the afternoon along the other side of the lake to my bike ride. Here I discovered a very nice hotel which I would recommend to the more senior of you who are probably not up to youth hostels however nice the view!

All this rest and calming karma meant that I was in a great mood Sunday morning to do what I’d been wanting to do all my visit - a tandem skydive. Although I’d wanted to do this in Taupo which was cheaper and higher I was happy to sky dive over Wanaka as it meant I could see the deep blues, golds, browns and greens from the sky and it really sealed my Wanaka experience. Jumping from 9000 feet may sounds terribly heroic but to be honest its all tandem and you are basically just an appendage to someone-else who’s done thousands of these jumps before. I was actually quite surprised as to how unfazed I was. There was another instructor and girl who jumped from the plane before us and before I knew it I was there hanging out the plane goggles down smiling at the camera on the wing in “cool banana” position and ready to jump. The 30 seconds of free fall was a bit heart racing, G-d knows how I was supposed to have breathed through my nose, but once the parachute came out it was just a wicked way to see more of the country.

Of course I couldn’t hear much of the country for the next few hours but that didn't seem to matter. Back on the Magic bus I met up with Kevin and Dianne. Dianne had gone on an overnight to Milford Sound and so was catching up with us now. She wasn't too well but chose to move ahead anyway as it was her birthday the next day and she wanted to be with people she knew. We made our way down to Fox glacier via the Haast pass and a stunning bridge over a deeply stirring valley chocca with dark green foliage and 30 m waterfalls, appropriately named Thunder Creek Falls. On the bus I appreciated my temporary lack of hearing as we had a new driver who did not know of Joseph or our AOR preferences for music preferring to blast rap instead. Last stop was at Lake Matheson for sunset which is the most famous of the mirror lakes, literally lakes that are still and clear enough to accurately reflect everything above them, in this case, guess what -- incredible mountains and foliage!

By the way it’s true that you don’t hear too much about the Maori on the South Island as the original settlements were mostly North Island focussed. However there are all kinds of Maori legends explaining how mountains terrains ended up where - stories of marriages and betrothals and wars betweens mountains which suddenly make all those stories about G-d visiting and talking to all the mountains before choosing Mount Sinai sound quite normal!

Continuing the calm vibe as started in Wanaka our stay over at Fox Glacier was pretty low key. A coffee at a cafe and a drink at the one bar still open after 10. Next morning I left Dianne the birthday girl waiting for her antibiotics to kick in and went on a half-day walk on the glacier. First things first, this is when I learnt that a glacier is in fact a frozen river (yeh I had no idea - though it was a name for a snow capped mountain - duh!). The half day hike up to the glacier meant we got to walk on it using crampons and sticks and told to walk like a man (scratching optional). We could have done a heli hike which took you up to the top or “neve” of the glacier and explore caves and cool things like that but apart from being v expensive and booked out I liked our hike as I felt we got a really good explanation from our guide. Before getting to the glacier we actually walked a steep climb through rainforests which confused me. Apparently Fox Glacier, its neighbour Franz Josef together with some glaciers in Chile are the only glaciers to exist along side rainforests. I’m only a beginner but this doesn't surprise me because its totally wild to have an environment warm enough for a rainforest near such a cold environment as a glacier.

My last night spent in a hostel in New Zealand was spent in Greymouth, the place where we were to catch our train the next day. As it would seem from the guidebook, all of the hostels there are themed - we stayed at Noah’s Ark backpackers where each room is a different animal. We were in the leopard room - grrr. They also have the famous $3 all-you-can-eat BBQ at the local railway hotel. This all sounds nice but it is soon pretty evident that there is a lot of overcompensation going on here. As Dianne said - she would never look at Newark, New Jersey as ugly again. The hotel itself was so grim that we ended up going back and celebrating Dianne’s birthday by watching the Oscars (in normal time!) in the comfort of Noah’s lounge.

Next day (my last day in New Zealand - boo hoo) we hung out in the morning and then caught the Tranzalpine train that afternoon. Unlike the Tranzcoastal it was pretty full as there were lots of old biddies on a daytrip from Christchurch. Dianne and I escaped to the viewing carriage where we met the other two young people on the train - Adam and Rob from Chicago - and proceeded to have a good laugh with them till Christchurch. The view was quite amazing but by this time we were having too much of a good time to do the whole camera thing as we probably should of! Once in town we checked into a hostel (well I just left my luggage) and then went into town. I am yet to see Christchurch during the day but I have now spent two excellent evenings out there so the impression stays good with me. Cutting a long story short rather than stay the night at the airport I left the karaoke bar where we ended up at 3 o’clock and got a cab to the airport.

I was of course exhausted but didn't really realise until security discovered that I’d left my penknife, cutlery knife and nail scissors in my hand luggage and duly confiscated these dangerous items. On finding out that no they could NOT be mailed to me and they would just be incinerated I promptly burst into tears wailing “wasn't it bad enough what those b*&%ards were doing back at home?!” Of course this just made the security guard looked at me wondering what else I might have that wouldn't be safe in my hands while I stood there with that old mother adage “she’s so tired she doesn't know what to do with herself” resonating in my head.

And so thus ended my wonderful trip to New Zealand, otherwise known as Godzone (i.e. God’s own land). Maybe it was just the first real holiday I’d had in 7 years (or at all?) or maybe it really is such a special place - I definitely found it worth the money and the distance. Then again perhaps holidays are all about where you’re coming from as much as where you’re going. I was talking to Dianne who said that so far she’d actually preferred her Asia trip - the negotiating, totally different lifestyle, meeting totally different people and it got me thinking. I am probably closer now to being ready for that kind of break having been away for a few weeks, but I know that at first, coming from Israel it was such a relief to be in a place that things will happen when they’re supposed to, I don’t have to negotiate on everything, I can feel pampered even at a hostel level, and yes the biggest headline is going to be that the Aussies are trying to host the rugby world cup by themselves. Even the people I was meeting, that were predominantly English/ European supposedly from similar backgrounds to me - as someone who led most of my life in predominantly Jewish circles when in the UK and lived in Israel all my adult life they were almost as exotic and unknown to me as a person of any age or nationality could have been. Sad and sheltered perhaps but at least I’m getting a small chance to fix that now.

OK, if you’re still reading now then I really appreciate your patience and hope you’ve enjoyed. Melbourne so far is good although I dare say my next report will be shorter.

Wishing you all a very happy rest of Pesach

As always

Northy but Nice

Kia ora!

That's Maori for "be healthy/Hello" in that kind of Shalom means "peace/Hello" kind of way. May sound cheesy but I like the expression probably because it's the one Maori word I can pronounce. [I think I avoided cycling in the Whakarewarewa Thermal Reserve last week just because I couldn't summons up the courage to ask someone how to get there!]

Anyway so I'm here in Wellington chez Beverly Paris whose family lives in the wonderfully named neighbourhood of Haitatai (I think that's it – see what I mean) and who are being great hosts to me for my one non-youth hostel night in New Zealand. My short stay in Wellington (I leave tomorrow afternoon) marks the end of my trip on the North Island. Tomorrow I fly by (12-seater-you-get-to-see-the-pilot-eat-his-lunch-plane) to Picton to start my South Island traverse but that is for next weeks e-mail...

So where have I been since we last "spoke"? (Thanx all those who wrote back btw. If I haven't already replied I hope too soon) My basic itinerary so far has been as follows:

I arrived in Auckland on Wed afternoon totally confused because I had just traveled and put my clock forward and traveled and put my clock forward for what seemed like 24 hours or maybe it was less and hadn't really slept. Who knows? Was rather out of it so after dumping stuff off I wandered around town a bit - visited the shul in vein hope of getting the kosher kiwi directory but having just missed office hours by half an hour I trundled back to my youth hostel. This wasn't bad despite bunk beds that might as well have had an escalator going up they were so high. Collapsed into bed and then went insomniac later so chatted to fellow roomies (1 Israeli and 1 English - for this I travel thousands of miles?) and then went to an Internet café at 11:30pm and surfed.

I left Auckland early the next day and by all accounts this was not a too short amount of time to have spent there. Was picked up by the Magic bus - no this isn't a bus with wings or any other Chitty Chitty Bang Bang impersonator but rather the name of the travelers' network I am using. Basically I've bought a pass, which takes me a certain route around the country within a minimum number of days. I can choose to stay with the same bus or to stay longer in one place or go off the beaten track and pick up the next bus at a later stage. Pretty cool all in all, both for coping with the no traveling on Shabbat thing and just general maintaining my own independence and flexibility. I know I wont be able to go everywhere in the time that I'm here - for example I'll miss the north of the Northern Island - Kare Kare and Corimandel beaches and Bay of Islands but hey got to leave something for next visit!

My fellow passengers are a mix of 20-30's from all over the world with a few older still travelers. Drivers are quite funky mixing the role of driver with tour guide, logistics and personnel manager and general motivator. Also up to now (sample size 3) they have all seemed to be quite idiosyncratic about their music and sounds on the bus, wanting to ensure we travel with a good soundtrack. Any of you know me well you'll know I totally appreciate the effort. [BTW Sharon Wagner this is your job should you ever choose to relocate...]

Anyway we drove out of Auckland stopping for an overview from Mount Eden and then passed through several towns on our way down to the Waitomo caves. Won't bore you with the details except to say that was honoured to pass through the town of Te Awamutu - birthplace of Neil Finn, lead singer of the sadly disbanded Crowded House. In honour of this wonderful group I am dedicating this weeks installment to their discography and have hidden 13 of their song and/or album titles within the letter. First person who writes back with the full list will be guaranteed a Kiwi souvenir*.

*Please allow 128 days for delivery. The competition organizer reserves the right to interpret the word souvenir entirely as they wish. In the case of a tie, competitors will buy the competition organizer a welcome home present instead.

Anyway so onto the Waitomo caves. These were Stallegmites and Stallegtite caves with added glowworms. Floating on a boat in an underground cave lit only with insects is pretty awesome. All of this was hidden away under rolls and rolls of beautiful New Zealand countryside. This is just the beginning I am getting so much from the many shades of green and stunning tall trees that surround us all the time.

From here we're onto Rotorua the place with the smell, spas and bubbly mud. This is an area of very high thermal activity, so much so that all the water in the area is heated by thermal activity. It is not uncommon to see steam rising from geisers (pronounced gayzers - geezers are old men) near house and of course to smell the rotten egg smell of sulphur.

Despite my legendary memory for wedding dates and what you were doing this time last year, geology and history seem to have rather less tenacity for the Gold cerebrum. Thus I will not attempt to accurately explain the science and legends behind the amazing wonders I am seeing but that's ok because there are plenty of great guidebooks who do a much better job than I could ever do. I could try and sum it up though and say that in New Zealand most of the natural wonders come down to volcanoes and major (its not my) fault lines and most of the history is either due to Maori legends or 19th century European explorers getting lost or having accidents or both. Read the books and you decide...

Our first evening in Rotorua was spent attending a Maori hangi. This consisted of a warrior dance ("Haka" a la the All Blacks but no rugby after) and welcome ceremony followed a festive meal cooked in a special under earth oven. This all took place in a mock Maori village, which looked a bit like the Temple of Low Men but was very impressive all the same. I particular liked the demonstration of all their weapons and instruments used to develop hand-eye coordination for use of weapons. There were sticks and batons and all sorts and the women used these great ball and string things to do a dance so for me the whole thing was really a wedding shtick trade show! On return to the town I went with Katherine from Melbourne, a friend from the bus to a bar at one of the louder youth hostels. Without going into details here, suffice to say this experience did much to confirm that the locals of today are developing customs that are really no less bizarre than those of their ancestors.

This discovery continued the next day when I decided to attend a local attraction called the Agrodome. Teaming up with Mali of the Emek Refaim area and Shalem Center - this week's "Who do you know? Game" prize goes to Kinneret, Stephanie and Sam! - we made our way down to this attraction primarily known for its sheep shearing shows. Now some of you may have the impression that the weirdest thing New Zealanders do is use sheep for various recreational activities however it would seem today that this generation of Kiwis have been smoking something stronger and have come up with far more bizarre activities to while away the time. Mali and I chose to do the "Zorb"! How can I explain? Ehm? Well we both sat in a huge plastic ball partially filled with water, which was then pushed down a hill! My best way of explaining what it was like is to say wash-cycle! Whatever – absolutely hysterical! I guess you'll just have to wait for the pics to really see what I mean.

From there we did actually go and see the sheep show, but nothing could seem that bizarre after our Zorb experience. On the shuttle bus we had met up with Ron from Northern Ireland (met briefly the night before) who had been working in Oz and was just making his way home. Nice guy and among other things had some v interesting conversations with him discussing what it was like living with bombs near your house and how you just get on with normal life as much as you can and how home is home and you cant just move away. Understandably there aren't that many people doing the traveler circuit who can empathise with that.

It's funny. I had worried on the first night when the people I had got to know that day were leaving that I wouldn't find anyone to do stuff with the next day. When I woke up and started chatting to Mali it went to show (and has continued to since) how these things just fall at your feet in the travelers world. It's so easy to pick up with people, as you all want to do the same type of things. You can have great chats with people about what to do and how without even knowing their names. You can get away with asking first names but age and surnames are almost taboo! Plus there's this wonderful phenomenon of seeing people you met in one place a few days later somewhere else and its like you've bumped into old friends. Its kind of like we're all here together alone.

Anyway our day was by no means all deep discussion and we finished off wacky New Zealand country day with a couple of rides on the "Luge". These are sled like vehicles on wheels that are ridden down concrete tracks Nigel-Mansell-style down a hill. It was terrific fun and totally scary. Returning from the luge tracks in a gondaler looking out onto the distant sun - a perfect end to my first full day in New Zealand.

Got back and lit candles and had my Shabbat supper of smoked salmon and avocado sandwiches (encountering Gil and Raanan in the kitchen who were amused to hear they'd just missed kiddush) Had a nice low key day the next day taking walks round the Lake Rotorua and attending the Polynesian Spa. Brought Shabbat out the old-fashioned way - judging by when three stars appeared I think I brought it in way too early – and then got ready for my move the next morning.

Everyone promised me rain in New Zealand as apparently this season has been rather diabolical and British-summer-like but since coming from the all sunny Singapore it had remained all sunny here too. Maybe you really can take the weather with you. Anyway up until Sunday morning the weather had really been beautiful and so the sulphur smell that everybody had warned me about was really not that bad. Sat night it started to rain and the smell changed! Nevermind I was on my way out and the rain it was good for viewing the Wai-O-Tapu Thermal Wonderland. Amazing place, timed exploding geisers, lots of bubbling mud and strange coloured lakes. Then due to bad weather we ended up playing a kind of laserquest game (the girls won) instead of a mad rope dare thing. Then we went onto the quite impressive Huka falls of the Watekei river which runs from Lake Taupo up to Auckland. Played a quick game of Pooh Sticks (Kiwi rules) and then went into Taupo to find out that weather still wasn't ok for sky diving. Shame although not the end of the world (although this is supposed to be the cheapest and highest place to do it but whatever...) We then had 2 hours to walk around town instead (strangely reminiscent of Friday mornings at BA summer camp) by which time the weather had cleared up to reveal the true splendour of Lake Taupo.

Onto our stop for the night - Turangi, a rather non descript trouting destination. Best located for going to the Tongariro Crossing. This is the most famous one day walk in New Zealand and with an incredible reputation for being grueling in parts but rewarding in most others with all the wonders that New Zealand can bring I decided to stay and attempt this famous tramp (that's Kiwi for trek I wasn't hitching a lift or hanging out with untoward smelly homeless men). Because the altitude is high, warm clothing (layers) are essential. How happy was I that I'd bought my new fleece? How p*&^ed off was I when I realized I'd left it in the last hostel in Rotorua? Nevermind it was picked up by the next day's Magic bus driver leaving me, my Disney sweatshirt and cagoul to brave the altitudes of the crossing. Actually felt like a proper traveler in the morning as to attach my water pipe thingy to my rucksack I had to use my pen-knife and duck tape - hurrah!

Please note that I am not exaggerating the extremity of this hike. Completed successfully by thousands of people each year the organizers who shuttle us in still take the precaution of taking everybody's number of next of kin, just in case they need to know where to ship the body! This fact should be noted for later but do not worry unnecessarily. The fact that I am sending this message should be the ultimate spoiler to any ominous thoughts!

Well what can I say? Well the look of the whole day was definitely Middle Earth. I just felt like I'd been through one of those hobbit battles by the end! Beginning with a mild gradient with gentle waterfalls running beside, it soon changed into volcanic rock (with foliage) and a gradient that ventolin was invented for. This lasted an hour and then onto the southern yellow crater (1600 ft alt I think?). After that, more climbing, another 200 ft, to the stunning red (more crimson actually) crater. It seems I was rewarded for my slower pace as I discovered later that quicker walkers had not seen the red crater as it was still surrounded by mist.

On and off during the day I found myself walking with a group of parent age types from Christchurch who attempt a different tramp every year. In between my wheezes and embarrassment that these 55 or so olds were doing as well as me we chatted and it came out where I was from (hence the "here's Israel" comment I got every time I caught up with them or vice versa). In case any of you were worrying that New Zealanders were too politically in touch with the Middle East I can put your minds at rest. One guy asked me if this hike was anything like Mount Sinai. When I said I didn't know, as I hadn't been there because it wasn't part of Israel anymore, he seemed vaguely surprised. He later asked me about military service and conscription. He understood the three year thing but still asked whether those who were conscripted actually saw active service. Oh to have the luxury of not knowing about these things.

Back to the crossing: Just past the red crater one last climb signaled the top which was rather awe-inspiring. Through the clearing mist at that altitude I felt something so strong one could almost feel there goes G-d. Perhaps a bit OTT but its not often you get that close, so its only natural to get a bit overwhelmed!

After that it was all down hill (NB in this case this does not mean all easy, ok maybe easier). The rock face coming down was a bit tricky but the view was amazing as we went from moon like craters to literally emerald coloured thermal lakes. Stunning, beautiful, smelly - I left the Christchurch delegation to have a lunch stop and marched on.

I had always declared that my aim of visiting New Zealand was to see the blues and the greens. Far from disappointed I am just amazed by all the other colours I have seen as well. Rocks on the way up and down were covered with a down of tiny star red flowers and big green and yellow leafy plants together with lavender coloured and daisy like plants. We passed another thermal spring on the way down and the rocks in the water were blue and purple and green – literally multi-coloured. There was a haze of blue over the hills and the lakes as viewed from the top of the pass, which made me think I was wearing blue tinted glasses. My words can't do all of this justice but unfortunately my camera can't either as the battery run just as I got to the red crater. Luckily Peter and Myra of Victoria, Australia volunteered to send me copies of theirs (no I hadn't been talking to them that's just how nice people can be) so Mum and Dad if you get an envelope addressed to me in the next month or so, yes you can open it to check for photos!

On the way down, the path became greener and greener and alpine in nature. Stopping at a Department of Conservation hut (could have been Heidi's) two hours before the end of the trail I met up with Jill and Karen my Canadian roommates from the hostel in Turangi. Hailing from Newfoundland (pronounce that as if someone has wired your jaws together) Jill actually works as a National Park Warden somewhere "in the boonies" in Canada. While she was comparing notes with the Warden at the hut, Karen the physiotherapist was telling me how to deal with sudden cramps I was getting in my thighs. Oh well, its all good!

As well as the view the sounds were amazing too. When the wind wasn't howling, the silence was perfect. Of course towards the end my own howling of better be home soon threatened that silence somewhat...

Last two hours was just as beautiful and the last 45mins to hour was even more surprising as it was through a forest complete with stream (don't drink the water or risk nightmare stomachs for months) I probably would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't felt by the end that I had nails in my feet, or more specifically my toes but like all these things it was worth it.

So I actually finished the track (with breaks) in just over 7 hours, which isn't bad. That said I missed the 4pm bus but that was ok because there was one at 5:15 or so. I sat down on the grass, wrote a little but then as sure as I am I fell asleep. I woke up intermittently but wasn't really worried because there were lots of people around and anyway surely they'd check our names off the body bag list and realize if someone was missing, no? 5:20 I wake up and realize something maybe up. I wait a bit more thinking the bus was at 5:30 then I borrow a mobile phone (oh my little orange phone I missed you then) and called up the company - get their ansaphone - great! Then I called the hostel. Eventually it was sorted out, they had left me behind but one of the drivers came to pick me up and we all lived happily ever after. Back at 7 (others back at 5:30) I gratefully took up the offer of a free spa given to all those who participated in the crossing.

So all in all that leads me to this morning and why the whole of my body is aching and then some. Today's travels were thankfully less strenuous making the way down from Turangi via various stops - NZ army museum in Waioru, a chance to jet ski in Flat Hills (Ironic name) and passing through Taihape - gumboot capital of New Zealand amongst other bumpkin towns. Approaching Wellington our driver "Popstar" (self named as his real name is Richard Martin, hence he is Ricky Martin) stopped to perform the Haka for us by Kapiti Island as that's where it was composed, by a Maori chief seeking refuge. Into the harbour and as its said there's nothing like Wellington on a good day and we were fortunate to get a good day. It really is as beautiful as everyone says it is.

Having arrived in Wellington we were given a brief tour by the bus driver including a view from Mount Victoria and then we were dropped off at one of the youth hostels. This was where Beverley very kindly picked me up. This evening I was shown the sites of Wellington by night by my friend Paul Thomas New Zealand historian extrordinaire who also explained to me over a beer in some up and coming trendy area of Wellington a bit about how and why New Zealand has become so more Maori aware in the last twenty years and how trends have changed here in general.

This really was the best tutorial I'd got so far and if I got it right you could say that the European / Maori divide was never as bad as say the Australian White / Aborigine or South African White / Blacks for several reasons. Firstly the Europeans got to New Zealand a bit later than others. Secondly, when they did arrive Maori were recognized to be more organized, more powerful and lighter, and thus a higher level of savage and thirdly there's never been an inter-marriage problem from the Maori side as this just goes to strength their tribes. Most interestingly for me though was Paul's assertion that its just never been in the Kiwi attitude to be too racist. Basically New Zealanders never thought it polite to be racist and have always prided themselves on their race relations (hence protests by some against recent even more "politically correct" moves as being unnecessary). Kiwis are pretty polite people but I will give you a broader view on that next week when I've got to meet more of them.

Wow that was a bit of an intelligent end to this latest installment. I am now well coordinated and have a headache to match my muscle ache so I think I will call it a night. Tune in this time next week when I will present New Zealand the Southern perspective – is it really the Beautiful South? Which island will turn out to be the ultimate temptation island? Is the Fox Glacier really a giant mint? All this and more.....

Lots and lots of love to you all

I know that many of you wrote back to me and told me just to enjoy myself and not think about what's going on in Israel, well I kept part of the bargain. I am enjoying myself but am thinking about you all the time

Singapore Style

LG here, reporting from Sydney airport en route to Auckland. Time to check in about my first real travel destination... Singapore.

Before getting into major detail I’ll assume that you're all as ignorant as I am and will point out that Singapore is a country/republic not just a city, English is the official language and spoken everywhere (dodgy dialects not withstanding) and yes you can get Kosher food there. One other thing you should know is that the weather there is the same all the year round --humid, humid, humid with occasional breaks of rain and then more humid. In fact its a bit like Manchester in the reverse (except Manchester is never humid).

Being able to get straight back into sandalim and summer mentality - the humidity is really quite bearable as there's air-con everywhere and you just don’t seem to sweat SO much, Singapore had to be as good as it gets to start a trip away from the travails of life in Israel. I had 5 v relaxing and enjoyable days there and those of you who have seen me pop up on MSN quite a bit should not mistake that for boredom, rather delight in 24 hour cable internet access at my hosts and strange time zones.

Apropro to Israel my thoughts are with all of you back home during this latest bout of horrific events. I hope that the tone of my letters will not seem too blasé but the way I see it this trip is classified as respite care for me so I hope I can share some of that spirit with you too.

Anyway enough of the rambling... I arrived early Friday morning after an ok flight (despite all paranoia’s about thrombosis and other long flight ailments). The true traveler experience began with Sanghita from Singapore (family originally from India) who I sat next to on the plane telling me exactly what was good and what was not. There’s nothing like a local for proper advice.

First stop was Tammy and Yishai Klein’s place who were kind enough to put me up for the duration. They’re friends from Israel who are in Singapore on business for a couple of years. They live in a beautiful apt complex complete with swimming pool so as you can imagine I’ve hardly done much to prepare myself for the youth hostel experience. Tammy and Yishai were wonderful from the minute I entered the complex shouting out their names 'cos I got confused by the numbering to the minute I left when it decided to rain just as I had planned to walk to the station.

Anyway I spent the first day trying not to fall asleep while exploring orchard road. this is a v famous shopping road which is basically lots of Brent Crosses but much smarter (non-Brits please replace with the name of your favourite mall). Highlights of this particular visit was a huge borders book shop where I could have read for hours if I didn’t keep falling asleep, seeing a sushi bar where food came round on mini conveyor belt (no - no cuddly toys just food) and discovering that all these years Marks and Spencer's have been storing all my size underwear in their Singapore branch. I am evidently an Asian women at heart (if not in hip)! Orchard road also houses some very ostentatious hotels but do not fear it is not ALL tasteful! Orchard road also has (i kid you not) a 3 floor department store dedicated to Manchester United complete with the red cafe next door totally kitted out with Fergie's boys' emblem everywhere. Rumour has it Singapore has the largest MUFC fan club outside the UK chaired by a Jew, I think - so, what's new?

Anyway, decided after a couple of hours to return home soon as I was afraid I might get arrested for dribbling on the sidewalk from jetlag ($1000 fine I do believe). slept the afternoon, swam and then got ready for Shabbat.

Like the best provincial communities the Singapore Jewish community is small, the Shuls (2) are big and the Shul politics know no end. in the same vein the rabbi is Chabad (low key on Chabad, high on all things Jewish), all are welcome, whatever level of observance and the Israelis often do their own thing.

This week there was a Bar mitzvah so there was open lunch for all in the Shul (and supper as well I believe as per normal). Located in town walking to and fro also gave me a nice chance to get oriented to where things were. Just walking around Singapore is beautiful -- the foliage is very lush and they have these great wide trees that I forgot to find the name for that look beautiful as you see their branches spread out from below and from above they cover the city in a sea of green.

I wont go hour by hour on everything I did but suffice to say I covered quite a bit of the regular tourist stuff including the botanical gardens (lots of bright coloured flowers), the Jurong bird park (lots of bright coloured animals), the night safari of Singapore zoo (lots of black and white coloured animals). Also went on cable car from the WTC there, cycling in the east coast park - a national park overlooking the sea and drank an obligatory "Singapore sling*"at the famous Raffles hotel.(*coloured pink as it was aimed for women who didn’t want to drink beer out of a big nasty glass. that and the fact that it has enough alcohol in it to make any lady anyone's - cointreau, cherry brandy, gin, benedictine, D.O.M, angostura , grenadine, lime and pineapple 57% alc total - !!!). about raffles -- yes that was the hotel in Tenko and Paradise Road -- there's no doubt that the British empire paved the way for some of the bloodiest conflicts of the 20th and 21st century but they did build some jolly nice buildings while they were at it!

As is often the case on vacations ordinary mundane tasks become a treat too. went shopping to the fish, fruit and veg markets of little India. the market was an amazing experience (mega will never be the same again) - I’ve never seen so much produce I didn’t actually recognize. the stall holders were all very friendly and didn’t mind explaining stuff to the western tourist and allowing sampling. food purchases were then followed by a meander around the rest of little India. Like any immigrant area it is populated by shops and restaurants of the culture and while we tried to be as respectful as possible Yishai and I were a tad amused (watch out for the British understatement) by the huge sign we saw for "Gokolam - the household name in alter-making". Evidently this area could supply everything a modern Buddha could desire! I actually ended up buying a v tasteful not-quite sari thingy (the big smock, trousers and scarf set). my appreciation for Singapore as a shopping destination was increased when I realised how easy it was to fit into anything in the shop (apparently sizes have to be flexible due to the bowing down at temple bit.... oh...)

Rumour has it that Singapore has the same defence issues as Israel and so they collaborate on a lot (its all hush hush - they see themselves in a similar situation as they're surrounded by Moslem countries and are reliant on imports for everything). I believe the defence thing but not convinced that we're collaborating to get the right stuff out of them. We could definitely learn a bit about a setting up a multi racial society from them and how looking after your environment does a lot to put you in a good mood for life. that said I wont deny that a lot of the policy is administrated somewhat Guliiani-like but we can save that debate for another time.

I think that’s probably enough to give you an idea of it all. Next stop is New Zealand -- I’m only in Sydney for 3 hours although it already scores highly ‘cos the view is beautiful and the internet is free.

One last thing before I go... as you will know I am a big fan of the "who-do-you-know-game" so I will be giving points to all of you who help me get further with this on my travels...

This week's prizes go to Pearl and Leonard Roselaar whose friends the Applebaums from Shimoni Street were at Shul having just got off a cruise around Australia and to Dina Seigal -- Laura (?) who you went to school with in Teaneck says hi! I actually give myself a pat on the back as I recognized someone on my flight who I hadn’t seen since primary school days. Marc Zeidman formerly of Kenton now of Pinner -- so that’s an honourable mention to Ash and Barny as well.

Thanks to all of you who wrote following my last epistle... btw if you *don’t* want to see my travel diary before its published and still free then don’t be a passive aggressive and tut and delete. please e-mail me and I’ll take you off the distribution list.

Miss you all but having a great time

Lots of love