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