WAITANGI DAY (cont.)

Friday 6th Feb 2009 was NZ's National Day and we were in the right place to to celebrate. Okains Bay on the Banks Peninsula is the local playground for the good people of Christchurch and we went to beautiful Okains Bay for a Settlers and Maori day, (where a longboat was rowed along the river by a motley crew of young people) before camping among pine trees on the shore of a bay. Simply paradise! Julie did a valiant job of keeping us on the precipitous, long and winding road around the rim of the ancient volcano that makes up this peninsula.

We were befriended by Vivien and Malcolm from Christchurch, with Carlos, a student from Saudi, who offered us a bed and a meal if we ever return. thanks for that Viv!

However, as we drove and listened to the radio it seems that not all New Zealanders are happy with this treaty that was drawn up in 18-something between the government of Queen Vic and some (not all) Maori chiefs at a place called Waitangi. Knowing virtually nothing of the history, we heard an interesting phone-in discussion, with contributions from some disaffected Maoris. This echoed the sentiments of Aborigines that we'd heard in Australia; that many of the original inhabitants regard 'Australia Day' as the day their country was invaded.
Much like our ancestors the Britons must have felt about the Roman invasion; building all those roads and cities, spas and country villas, defining boundaries and fencing off private spaces! We're just following their tradition after all.

(Trying to get online in different places can pose quite a problem. First I have to find a computer that works, that doesn't have a queue waiting to use it, will hopefully allow me to download pics and store them to my portable hard-drive and last but not least, doesn't eat up all my dollars before I've finished answering emails, checked who's on msn messenger and written a few words of the blog!) That's my only gripe... the trip is still fantastic, in spite of cold and rain!)

To get back to our trip. We'd spent three nights and two days on the Banks peninsula and could hardly tear ourselves away, but the rest of the country beckoned and we returned to Christchurch briefly to stock up with food and water. We'd found a large shop full of secondhand goods and thought it prudent to kit ourselves out with a woolly hat for me and gloves for Julie, as well as a large duvet for extra warmth, as surprisingly the nights can be quite cold. So by Saturday afternoon we were heading South-east along the Scenic Highway down the centre of the country with a huge mountain mass appearing on our right.

Early evening we paused at Geraldine, a small town where we bought home-baked pies; one of venison cooked in wine (absolutely delicious) and the other of curried chickpea and vege (equally delicious.) There we noticed a small poster advertising a local Folk music Festival, so always on the lookout for an interesting diversion, we found it happening on someone's small organic farm and stayed there for the night, enjoying some really good singing and lively music that kept us dancing until midnight. (Really!) When it was announced that a sweatlodge was ready for use, Julie was ready for it, (we had been drinking wine) but I was not prepared to take off all my clothes and sit butt-naked in a large oven before plunging into the waters of a small freezing river, so I went to bed. I should mention that it had got so cold I had to don my fleece, coat and woolly hat when not dancing. I awoke at 300am to find that Julie had still not returned and again had to cope with these reccurring fears; that she'd got lost in the dark or fallen into the river and been swept away. What should I do in such circumstances? Go and search for her in the dark? Wake everyone to find her?

It was only when I'd got to the point of genuine acceptance that whatever happened couldn't be changed by worrying about it, that she suddenly returned with apologies and explanation that everyone went through the ritual three times they were enjoying it so much! (Masochistic to my mind.)

Next morning after some great Yoga stretches in a group and a good breakfast, we continued on the Scenic Highway across wild highlands buffeted by strong winds, to the first of two lakes of the most incredible turquise blue, due to certain rock particles in suspension. It was so bleak we moved on the the second lake, (I'll put the names in later) where we had a good view of Mt Cook in the far distance. AWESOME!

By evening we'd followed the course of a river down to the coast at Oamaru, where we camped in relative comfort, though it was very hot that night and we had to leave the doors and windows open while we slept.