Wellington and More

Hello, Let's create the scene....

The smell of sulfur, a Japanese garden, infamous New Zealand Sand Flies, snow peaked mountain caps outside our window, five in the evening, a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, and the white curtain moving with every cue from the breeze. We are in a tiny spot on the South Island map called, Maruia Springs. It's our detour for a couple of days to relax and soak our sore bottoms in the mineral baths after 3 days of horse trekking and a day of walking 15 kilometers. We're off the beaten path, with few tourists like ourselves, many a Kiwi getting away for the weekend, in the middle of nowhere, yet we have wireless access (hallelujah!!) We were redirected to this hot spring area, away from the other commercial hot spring area, by the amazing woman, Cheryl, who own the horse trekking adventure resort, that we just left yesterday. Maruia Springs Resort is own by a Japanese couple. They have done a lot of work to bring this resort up in value, honor the traditional Japanese style bathhouse culture and natural mineral pools, and to keep this place naturally sound and commercial free. It's gorgeous. There is this great building with traditional female and male Japanese bathing houses and since I can't go in with Jason I am missing my Japanese friends (Yae, you would love this) There is a fabulous Japanese restaurant here and tonight we are going to have the Japanese dinner it's called "Yose-Nabe", like a Japanese fondue (Yae, not the same as Shabu-Shabu?) Good stuff.

The morning started with this great hike through a forest and landscape like we had never seen before. The mist and clouds were hanging low creating this soft and delicate mood over the trees, streams, and rivers. Moisture and rain must be common for this area because the ground was covered in a spongy lime green moss and the trees were thin with dark bark and had this amazing green web like moss hanging from every branch. It was quite magical and surreal in appearance. We didn't encounter one person as we casually walked through this new environment, discussing our plans for the next couple of weeks and laughing about the last few days on the South Island. Our turn around point was this great swing bridge over a mighty river that was called "Cannibal Gorge", yes, because this was the scene of one Maori tribe (the native New Zealand people) having a victorious feed on the bodies of another Maori tribe. It is amazing to think that this area remains virtually the same since that time. Nothing but natural changes, humans have not managed to ruin it thanks to the obsession by Kiwi's to protect their land.

Since I am finding myself desperately itching my toe right now, let me describe to you the joy that all Kiwi's know as, Sand Flies. These are tiny little flies that are everywhere in the New Zealand bush (wilderness). They are blood sucking insects, like mosquitoes, yet you can feel them bit you and then they leave an itchy red spot to remind you of their being there. New Zealand has no predators, venomous snakes or spiders, so I suppose as we are all grateful for that and we can deal with Sand Flies; New Zealand's worst enemy. No bears, or lions, or wolves; just Sand Flies.

I have to send my apologizes for not writing sooner. Wellington kept us busy and since being in the South Island we have been deep in the middle of living off the land, middle of nowhere, but yet in the middle of everything in life, even without cell phone service. I'll write two blogs here and the first I'll dedicate to Wellington highlights.

The first few days in Wellington we devoted to city life; museums, shops, cafes, endless walking and people watching. It was wonderful to see this city, which was a bit San Francisco and New York on a much smaller scale. We found ourselves constantly gravitating toward Cuba St, which had all the best, fun, and hip restaurants and shops. The national Te Papa Museum was amazing in this full detailed account of the creation of the islands of New Zealand, the Maori people, the European settlers, the land, the wildlife and plant life, as well as New Zealand art and New Zealand's future and place in the world.

Wellington is an old town, with great old houses (some improved and some not), a small but beautiful harbor, and hilly, very very hilly. All over houses dot the hillsides with texture and color and the wind constantly speaks of New Zealand's place in the Sea somewhere between Antartica and Australia, but remotely on it's own. This sense of survival and independence is built into the people, the buildings, the houses, and the landscape. Young, unafraid, resilient, proud, and free. We discuss how these houses on these hills survive the amazing winds looking grey and damp and come out brilliant and shining on Wellington's gorgeous sunny and still days. What adaptation? What strength? What does it say about the people to build their capital city of this small country on the sides of hills at the tip of one island, at the brink of a fault line, and at the edge of the water that connects the north to the south?

Our last days in Wellington we decided to see what the surrounding area had to offer us. We explored the small towns of the Martinborough, wine region on the east, the beaches on the west, and black stony beaches just outside of Wellington.

After climbing a mountain pass (barely climbing over in our hired car), we descended upon a valley dotted with tiny towns, B&B's, sheep pastures, and wineries. We stopped casually for lunch on a small town main street with small town offerings and tasting rooms of local wineries. We found a silver shop and bought Jason his temporary new wedding ring and drove through paddocks envious of the sheep's view of great foothills and mountains as they madly grazed on endless green grass. Jason started this game of honking the horn at the sheep, just to watch them run away in panic and fear. I have to admit it was funny to watch them run (Randy, that was for you). We ended the day in a town called Greytown, where we stopped in a boutique wine shop for a glass of wine, ewe's cheese, pear's, and conversation with the young owner's. They gave us some tips for the big wine festival in the area that we would be going to on Sunday.

Instead of a high mountain peak to do our little ring ceremony, we choose these beautiful tide pools after a long walk down remote black sand and stony beaches outside of Wellington in an area called, Island Bay. We walked down this amazing beach, alone, and in awe of the power and moods of nature. This same area when we first arrived in Wellington, with the powerful winds, must have been an angry place; was now was sunny, joyful, and fun as the waves tossed over rocks and the tide casually crept up the beach. We climbed into the tide pools and watched the water pull through the rocks and shallow pools; ever changing, out and in, always bringing in the new. Shifting minute by minute every day. Quite. Then a loud wave would come crashing over rocks. Shocking. Then absorbing in the pools naturally. This resembles and represents relationships and life, perhaps, maybe it's cheesy, who cares; sometimes we learn best from simple observation in a time of quite and reflection. Jason and I stood there in our little haven of analogies and exchanged rings again, out of a abalone shell we found on the sand, rededicating vows; making the most of our ring mishap. In contrast to our wedding we were without watching eyes, flowers, and music. Alone. Knowing that we had many people around the world that would love to be standing where we were. Many people that support and love us for standing where we were and where we are. Perfection.

The west coast outside of Wellington gave us a great picnic on the beach with local organic cheeses, hummus, bread, and fruit we bought from a farmer's market. We feel asleep in the sun and I woke up to Jason nudging me to watch a Standard Schnauzer frolic down the beach. We couldn't resist but to go say hi. Image, Diesel in all his glory only six times as big. Following a great drive through some farm and mountain country we had the most amazing Fish and Chips ever in a small town on the beach. That night we headed back into Wellington for a Beatles tribute concert and a great dinner on Cuba St.

Sunday, the day for the big "Toast Martinborough" festival had come. We bought these tickets forever ago. After a major mission to get a train ticket out to wine country, we were on our way with thousands of other eager people, waiting to eat, drink, dance, and hopefully not pass out in between grape vines. Let's see, here are the words to describe the day....shuttles, hot, port-a-loo's, expensive, dusty roads, lots of wine, good wine, white wine, red wine, tasty food, pairing food, eighties band, jazz band, Irish bands (yep, just for you Ryan), rock bands, girl bands, frozen grapes, shaded places, sitting on grass, eating under grape vines, 3 pm, dancing (what would John Kim do?), falling down, people passing out, drunk Kiwi's, train stations, bus stations, taxi drivers, bagpipe players, green wrist bands, yellow wrists bands, white wrist bands, drinking wine out of bottles on the train, hats on train tracks, finish with pizza and a beer, dead asleep.

Monday morning after saying good bye to our wonderful host, Willy, we're off eager for new sites and adventures waiting for us just a beautiful ferry ride away, across the Cook Straight on the South Island. They say that the South Island is far more beautiful with half the population and much more sheep. All we know is there are horses, kayaks, trails, glaciers, more wine, good people, and roads waiting.

Lots of love,
Leah and Jason