The living room clock says 4:15 am when I get out of bed the day after Thanksgiving. In the kitchen the turkey bones are simmering away on the stove, just as we left them last night. The simmering stock pot keeps me company as I drink my tea, eat my Cheerios. Everyone else is asleep. It's a rare thing to be up before Dad. He's usually up by five, but when he's on holiday he does tend to sleep in. The house is very dark and only a few coqui frogs are still doing their shrill calls at this hour. Eventually it seems like the only thing to do is slip out the back door and finish my tea on the lanai. It smells like green growing things out here, but there's no hint of dawn yet. I can see a few stars winking through the clouds.
It occurs to me that I haven't had this much time alone since I got to Hilo. And I haven't been this pleased to have some time to myself in a long time. It's been nonstop visiting with one person or another since I arrived. First trip back in about four years. Friends of mine and my parents keep coming by the house to seeing me again or meeting me for the first time. I'm starting to feel like a visiting dignitary. But the five people currently sleeping in the house upstairs are the ones I've really been joyously spending every minute with - my mother, father, partner, cousin, and cousin's husband. It's been so lovely, I didn't realize 'til this moment that it's also exhausting.
Presently it occurs to me that I'd like to do sun salutations right here on the porch, as the first glow of dawn starts to show. I thought maybe it was silly to pack my yoga mat, but this is actually about the fifth time I've used it on this trip. I start with the slow stretches, yawning all the while and feeling my body begin to warm. I go through the salutations with ritualistic deliberateness, rejoicing in the fact that I have the health and strength to carry out these now familiar movements.
By the time I'm finished, I've made up my mind about something. Dad suggested yesterday that we go shopping for Mom's birthday present today, on account of the Black Friday sales. Neither of us are big on shopping, even when it's not the busiest shopping day of the year. But I don't know when I've last been home for Mom's birthday, and I won't be there this year either, but going with Dad to pick out her present feels like the next best thing. When Dad gets up, I have the pleasure of seeing the surprise on his face when he sees I'm up already. We get to work fishing all the bones out of the stock pot and as we're adding some left-over veggies, I tell Dad I want to go to the mall with him. It opens at 6am today, and if we sneak out of the house now we may even return before anyone gets around to missing us.
Friday, 11 December 2009
Friday, 23 October 2009
Two Year Anniversary of living in New Zealand: Day Two
Yeah, I know, this is WAY overdue...
We drove along the coast on Day Two, getting a gorgeous view all the way along.
Palliser Bay coastal road
We hiked up through a dry creek bed see the Pinacles, a sight that reminded me very much of the hoodoos of Bryce Canyon in Utah:
Next we stopped in Ngawi for refreshments. This is a tiny fishing village, known for it tractors, of all things. Because the sea is so rough and the coast is so rugged, there is no harbour so they keep the boats dry docked on trailers pulled far up the long stretches of beach. These trailers are hauled by tractors. It's quit a site, these tractors lined up on the beach. I didn't get a photo, but I'll include one my Mom too last time they were here:
Mom's photo of the tractors
Loren and I at the dairy in Ngawi
The area past Ngawi is known for its seal colonies. There's a 'bachelor colony' here that can be seen year round. You can also see mothers with babies the right time of year. (It was not the right time of year)
These guys were basking just meters from the road, and completely unafraid of people.
Our last stop was the light house. We ignored the warning signs and braved the rickety stairs, though the were literally falling apart in places.
The trip down was especially harrowing. But we were rewarded with a stunning view.
View from the lighthouse
And that was pretty much Day Two. Where will we go next year? At the moment Nelson is on the top of our list of places to visit next.
We drove along the coast on Day Two, getting a gorgeous view all the way along.
Palliser Bay coastal road
We hiked up through a dry creek bed see the Pinacles, a sight that reminded me very much of the hoodoos of Bryce Canyon in Utah:
Next we stopped in Ngawi for refreshments. This is a tiny fishing village, known for it tractors, of all things. Because the sea is so rough and the coast is so rugged, there is no harbour so they keep the boats dry docked on trailers pulled far up the long stretches of beach. These trailers are hauled by tractors. It's quit a site, these tractors lined up on the beach. I didn't get a photo, but I'll include one my Mom too last time they were here:
Mom's photo of the tractors
Loren and I at the dairy in Ngawi
The area past Ngawi is known for its seal colonies. There's a 'bachelor colony' here that can be seen year round. You can also see mothers with babies the right time of year. (It was not the right time of year)
These guys were basking just meters from the road, and completely unafraid of people.
Our last stop was the light house. We ignored the warning signs and braved the rickety stairs, though the were literally falling apart in places.
The trip down was especially harrowing. But we were rewarded with a stunning view.
View from the lighthouse
And that was pretty much Day Two. Where will we go next year? At the moment Nelson is on the top of our list of places to visit next.
Thursday, 15 October 2009
Soaking in The Culture
I fell asleep last night thinking of my experience of Yayoi Kusama's exhibit. Artwork that you can walk into the middle of, be surrounded by, the outside world obliterated. I have a lot of fanciful ideas of what kind of art I would create, if I had a lot of money and time on my hands. I would love to make sculptures so big that they became architecture, something you walk into and climb upon and experience. I never considered you could create that effect with a a room, some paint, and a bunch of custom-made inflatable objects. I walked around inside "Dots Obsession - Day" until I found a vantage point where I could no longer see the door. I was floating in a little world of bright yellow that made the black dots look like endless black holes. Large amorphous objects loomed, floated, leaned against walls, in the same colour scheme. The yellow dots on black of "Dot's Obsession - Night" was a little easier on the eyes. Another piece was a room set up as a mundane living room, down to the tea cups on the coffee table, every surface covered with coloured dots. The only illumination was black lights - which made the dots light up with a pale glow. Walking through this room was peaceful after 'dot's obsession' but also deeply eerie.
(Image shamelessly taken from www.stuff.co.nz)
My favourite piece was a room fitted on all walls and ceiling with mirrors, the floor was still water with a mirrored platform to stand on. From black chords tiny coloured lights hung at different heights all over the room - the only illumination. People were let in only in ones or twos, the door closed behind them for the full effect. The effect was that of floating in an endless world of little lights, like a starry night sky stretching in every direction. It was beautiful and peaceful. My two minutes was over too soon. I wanted a room like that in my home. When life got too overwhelming, I would just go in there and lie on my back, looking up at the endless sky.
(Image shamelessly taken from www.stuff.co.nz)
My favourite piece was a room fitted on all walls and ceiling with mirrors, the floor was still water with a mirrored platform to stand on. From black chords tiny coloured lights hung at different heights all over the room - the only illumination. People were let in only in ones or twos, the door closed behind them for the full effect. The effect was that of floating in an endless world of little lights, like a starry night sky stretching in every direction. It was beautiful and peaceful. My two minutes was over too soon. I wanted a room like that in my home. When life got too overwhelming, I would just go in there and lie on my back, looking up at the endless sky.
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
Two Year Anniversary of living in New Zealand
This is my much belated post about our trip to Lake Ferry and Cape Palliser. For our two-year anniversary of moving to New Zealand, I wanted to take a road trip to somewhere we hadn't been before. When I talked to Loren about where we might want to go, he told me to surprise him, which just made it more fun to plan.
Our route took us through Martinborough, so of course we stopped there for lunch and to check out some wineries we hadn't been to yet. It was the end of harvest season and the leaves on the grape vines were turning yellow.
One of our stops was a little family run winery called The Cabbage Tree. Often the tiniest operations make for to the most memorable winery visits. The elderly lady pouring our wine was also co-owner with her husband. After we bought a bottle each of their '04 pinot noir and their rose, she asked if we'd like a tour of their facilities. Turned out the converted barn we were in housed their entire operation, from tasting room to cellar. She lifted the lid off steel barrels so we could get a peek at their bright red merlot and watch her stir it with a huge red-stained wooden paddle. We saw their de-stemmer in action (a metal machine that pulls the stems off harvested grapes). Then we got to put our ears up to the hole in the top of a barrel of chardonnay, so we could hear the hiss of the juice fermenting. Our next stop was Murdoch James, where we got a real surprise when we tasted a syrah that we actually liked. Harvest was under way there as well, so after we bought a bottle of syrah, we got a look at their grapes and they let us taste fresh syrah and a pinot gris grapes. Here's Loren with the syrah grapes:
And crates of pinot gris:
Our accommodation was a tiny cabin just outside of Lake Ferry. Lake Ferry is a tiny village situated next to Lake Onoke and Palliser Bay. After settling into our cabin we took a walk along the beach at Lake Ferry. The beach is composed of tiny black pebbles, and it goes on for ages. The lake is brackish; a narrow strip of beach separates it from the ocean, and a break in this strip allows water to flow between lake and ocean. There were a few brave surfers out there. We had already been warned against swimming; the currents can be treacherous and there's nothing else out there between that particular strip of coast and Antarctica.
Where Lake Onoke meets Palliser Bay
We had pasta from Wishbone for dinner, and opened the rose from Cabbage Tree to go with it.
(this post is getting long. I'll do Day Two later)
Our route took us through Martinborough, so of course we stopped there for lunch and to check out some wineries we hadn't been to yet. It was the end of harvest season and the leaves on the grape vines were turning yellow.
One of our stops was a little family run winery called The Cabbage Tree. Often the tiniest operations make for to the most memorable winery visits. The elderly lady pouring our wine was also co-owner with her husband. After we bought a bottle each of their '04 pinot noir and their rose, she asked if we'd like a tour of their facilities. Turned out the converted barn we were in housed their entire operation, from tasting room to cellar. She lifted the lid off steel barrels so we could get a peek at their bright red merlot and watch her stir it with a huge red-stained wooden paddle. We saw their de-stemmer in action (a metal machine that pulls the stems off harvested grapes). Then we got to put our ears up to the hole in the top of a barrel of chardonnay, so we could hear the hiss of the juice fermenting. Our next stop was Murdoch James, where we got a real surprise when we tasted a syrah that we actually liked. Harvest was under way there as well, so after we bought a bottle of syrah, we got a look at their grapes and they let us taste fresh syrah and a pinot gris grapes. Here's Loren with the syrah grapes:
And crates of pinot gris:
Our accommodation was a tiny cabin just outside of Lake Ferry. Lake Ferry is a tiny village situated next to Lake Onoke and Palliser Bay. After settling into our cabin we took a walk along the beach at Lake Ferry. The beach is composed of tiny black pebbles, and it goes on for ages. The lake is brackish; a narrow strip of beach separates it from the ocean, and a break in this strip allows water to flow between lake and ocean. There were a few brave surfers out there. We had already been warned against swimming; the currents can be treacherous and there's nothing else out there between that particular strip of coast and Antarctica.
Where Lake Onoke meets Palliser Bay
We had pasta from Wishbone for dinner, and opened the rose from Cabbage Tree to go with it.
(this post is getting long. I'll do Day Two later)
Saturday, 25 April 2009
An afternoon spent in the presence of rare birds
I'm hiking up Turbine Track looking for hihi and bell birds. I'd picked out a little stitch call amongst the noisy Tui chattering. Stepping off the track, I followed one of the transect lines that stripe the entire park, allowing rough access and creating a sort of physical grid. I spotted the male first, bright and proud with his yellow flash along the shoulders, singing out a territorial call here and there. Then I saw the subdued browns of a female keeping company with him. I stood there a long time trying to get a clear view of her bands as she darted from branch to branch. I deduced they were some of the transplants from Mount Bruce; they use three coloured leg bands, while Karori Sanctuary uses four. I was just watching them, wondering how long it had been since they'd been seen last, if this spot up a little-used trail was their territory. My primary goal was to spot juveniles that had fledged this season, but these two might be a valuable find as well.
It was then I noticed an owl sleeping in a tree branch not four paces from me. It was startling to notice it sitting so near and in plain view. I knew it's mottled brown colouring had hid it from my eyes. As if sensing my gaze upon it, the owl opened it's eyes just them and fixed its attention on my with a piercing stare. I edged closer, but that spooked it and it flew a few meters away, finding itself another perch.
As I made my way back via Fantail Track, I passed through one area with a disconcertingly large concentration of Tui. I heard them more than saw them. One or a few tui make a lovely exotic music. They have an amazing range, easily outdoing any mockingbird as they ramble through a repertoire so varied that they sound like at least three birds singing at once. What I learned this day was that encountering a large gang of these birds can be a disorienting experience. They are largish, mostly black birds and they like to perch very high in the branches. So as I walked my path down into this particular valley I could hear an overwhelming chorus of birdsong, could hear the rustling of tree branches everywhere, but when I looked around I could barely catch a glimpse of any of them. I may have known intellectually that I was safe, but a part of me still found it spooky to be surrounded by so many creatures and not be able to see any of them.
Wandering through the woods, on the look out for birds, there's a pleasant kind of alertness one must tune into. There's something very fundamental about it, being absorbed in what is currently going on in the present moment. It's part of what keeps me coming back every week.
In case you're curious about the birds I've mentioned today:
Hihi (aka stitch birds)
Morepork (aka Ruru) the owl I saw
Tui
Tui song
On that last link, hover over the birds to see a photo, and click to download a short bird song clip. The korimako (aka bell bird), tieke (aka saddleback), Pipiwharauroa (aka fantail), and kaka are also commonly seen in the Sanctuary.
It was then I noticed an owl sleeping in a tree branch not four paces from me. It was startling to notice it sitting so near and in plain view. I knew it's mottled brown colouring had hid it from my eyes. As if sensing my gaze upon it, the owl opened it's eyes just them and fixed its attention on my with a piercing stare. I edged closer, but that spooked it and it flew a few meters away, finding itself another perch.
As I made my way back via Fantail Track, I passed through one area with a disconcertingly large concentration of Tui. I heard them more than saw them. One or a few tui make a lovely exotic music. They have an amazing range, easily outdoing any mockingbird as they ramble through a repertoire so varied that they sound like at least three birds singing at once. What I learned this day was that encountering a large gang of these birds can be a disorienting experience. They are largish, mostly black birds and they like to perch very high in the branches. So as I walked my path down into this particular valley I could hear an overwhelming chorus of birdsong, could hear the rustling of tree branches everywhere, but when I looked around I could barely catch a glimpse of any of them. I may have known intellectually that I was safe, but a part of me still found it spooky to be surrounded by so many creatures and not be able to see any of them.
Wandering through the woods, on the look out for birds, there's a pleasant kind of alertness one must tune into. There's something very fundamental about it, being absorbed in what is currently going on in the present moment. It's part of what keeps me coming back every week.
In case you're curious about the birds I've mentioned today:
Hihi (aka stitch birds)
Morepork (aka Ruru) the owl I saw
Tui
Tui song
On that last link, hover over the birds to see a photo, and click to download a short bird song clip. The korimako (aka bell bird), tieke (aka saddleback), Pipiwharauroa (aka fantail), and kaka are also commonly seen in the Sanctuary.
Tuesday, 14 April 2009
what's massage school like?
I'm lying face down on the table while three students regard my bare back. I can see their shoes through the face hole in the massage table. A fourth pair of shoes appear.
"Southern cross?"
It's our instructor. He's just making conversation with me while he observes my classmates pressing their hands into my back, marking the borders of my trapesius muscle.
I'm pleased he recognises the constellation. It's done in diamonds-like shapes, which tends to throw people off.
"Did you have a freckle removed?" My classmate C asks as he touches the scar on my right shoulder (They're on to the rhomboid muscles now).
"I had a mole removed. Turned out not to be cancerous."
(Mostly I forget that scar even exists. I've been reminded of it twice in the last week)
"You've got an awful lot of tension here. Man, what were these shoulders like before you worked on them, D?" He asks the pair of sensible shoes on my right.
D was my partner for our assessment the day before. And she did a great job on my shoulders, actually.
Just another day at massage college. You get to know your classmates pretty quick.
For me it's been a great class so far. I've got a break for a couple weeks now.
"Southern cross?"
It's our instructor. He's just making conversation with me while he observes my classmates pressing their hands into my back, marking the borders of my trapesius muscle.
I'm pleased he recognises the constellation. It's done in diamonds-like shapes, which tends to throw people off.
"Did you have a freckle removed?" My classmate C asks as he touches the scar on my right shoulder (They're on to the rhomboid muscles now).
"I had a mole removed. Turned out not to be cancerous."
(Mostly I forget that scar even exists. I've been reminded of it twice in the last week)
"You've got an awful lot of tension here. Man, what were these shoulders like before you worked on them, D?" He asks the pair of sensible shoes on my right.
D was my partner for our assessment the day before. And she did a great job on my shoulders, actually.
Just another day at massage college. You get to know your classmates pretty quick.
For me it's been a great class so far. I've got a break for a couple weeks now.
Thursday, 9 April 2009
Kyoto part VII (last one - I swear!)
Monday (continued)
I don't know if the day got colder then, or if we realized how cold it was because of the snow. We were after a tea shop recommended in our book. After walking past the place marked on our map a couple times, I went into a shop selling chopsticks and pottery to ask directions. I repeated the name of the tea shop - along with the word matcha - to the ancient lady behind the counter. She grabbed a cane and hobbled out to the street to point at a nondescript store front with neither English signage nor plastic food. I gave her a thank-you in Japanese (about the only thing I can say in Japanese other than names of food items). The tea shop was in an tiny old building, everything made of wood from floor to ceiling. Inside it was cosy and warm, with a space heater humming away in one corner. We both ordered matcha, which came with two sweets made of rice and adzuki beans, and took our time sipping the rich green tea as our hands and toes warmed up.
Tuesday
It was even colder, with the weather report calling for rain. Despite the large number of shrines, temples, and gardens we hadn't seen yet, there was no way we were doing anything out of doors in that weather. So we planned a trip to some sake breweries. This was meant to be easy, requiring very little time out of doors. However, or map led us astray. First up was Gekkeikan brewery, but we ended up at their central brewery, which is not open to the public. I am pleased to report, I was able to make out from the Japanese characters that we were in Gekkeikan territory of some kind, and I walked into their offices asking for the location of the sake museum (their tourist facilities, where we might learn about sake and also taste some). After waiting patiently while the staff discussed the matter at length, someone showed up who could speak a little English. He gave us a map, and better instructions. We thanked him profusely and headed out. That's when the snow started coming down in earnest, and we started to realise we had been unwise to leave the hostel without umbrellas. We had just started down the street, when a lady hurried up to us and asked us to wait here: someone would drive us to the sake museum! We were very thankful for the ride. The museum was interesting, and the sake was tasty. We bought a bottle of sake and a bottle of plum wine as well.
Loren with large sake fermentation tank at Gekkeikan Sake Museum
A short venture in the snow found us at stop number two: Kizakura Kappa Country, a sake and beer brewery. We got a very tasty lunch at their restaurant, and a flight of three little glasses of beer to taste. We guessed them as a lager, an Irish red style, and a hefewizen style. They were all tasty, and unsurprisingly we both liked the hefewizen best. They had a museum as well, though it was smaller and we were glad we'd seen Gekkeikan's first as this one had no English signs. In addition, however, they had a little museum dedicated to the kappa, a mythical creature, that apparently is know for being sneaky, and looks something like an anthropomorphic cross between a frog and a turtle.
Loren slurping noodles at Kizakura's restaurant
Somewhat lewd kappa sculpture at Kizakura's kappa museum
After that we called it a day. The weather was miserable; we bought a cheap umbrella at a corner store and headed home.
Wednesday.
It was my turn to be sick. Spent most of the day on the couch in the lounge drinking tea and reading my book. Loren did some wandering around the city without me.
Thursday.
Last day. I was feeling a little better, we mostly just got ourselves packed and headed to the airport around mid-day.
I don't know if the day got colder then, or if we realized how cold it was because of the snow. We were after a tea shop recommended in our book. After walking past the place marked on our map a couple times, I went into a shop selling chopsticks and pottery to ask directions. I repeated the name of the tea shop - along with the word matcha - to the ancient lady behind the counter. She grabbed a cane and hobbled out to the street to point at a nondescript store front with neither English signage nor plastic food. I gave her a thank-you in Japanese (about the only thing I can say in Japanese other than names of food items). The tea shop was in an tiny old building, everything made of wood from floor to ceiling. Inside it was cosy and warm, with a space heater humming away in one corner. We both ordered matcha, which came with two sweets made of rice and adzuki beans, and took our time sipping the rich green tea as our hands and toes warmed up.
Tuesday
It was even colder, with the weather report calling for rain. Despite the large number of shrines, temples, and gardens we hadn't seen yet, there was no way we were doing anything out of doors in that weather. So we planned a trip to some sake breweries. This was meant to be easy, requiring very little time out of doors. However, or map led us astray. First up was Gekkeikan brewery, but we ended up at their central brewery, which is not open to the public. I am pleased to report, I was able to make out from the Japanese characters that we were in Gekkeikan territory of some kind, and I walked into their offices asking for the location of the sake museum (their tourist facilities, where we might learn about sake and also taste some). After waiting patiently while the staff discussed the matter at length, someone showed up who could speak a little English. He gave us a map, and better instructions. We thanked him profusely and headed out. That's when the snow started coming down in earnest, and we started to realise we had been unwise to leave the hostel without umbrellas. We had just started down the street, when a lady hurried up to us and asked us to wait here: someone would drive us to the sake museum! We were very thankful for the ride. The museum was interesting, and the sake was tasty. We bought a bottle of sake and a bottle of plum wine as well.
Loren with large sake fermentation tank at Gekkeikan Sake Museum
A short venture in the snow found us at stop number two: Kizakura Kappa Country, a sake and beer brewery. We got a very tasty lunch at their restaurant, and a flight of three little glasses of beer to taste. We guessed them as a lager, an Irish red style, and a hefewizen style. They were all tasty, and unsurprisingly we both liked the hefewizen best. They had a museum as well, though it was smaller and we were glad we'd seen Gekkeikan's first as this one had no English signs. In addition, however, they had a little museum dedicated to the kappa, a mythical creature, that apparently is know for being sneaky, and looks something like an anthropomorphic cross between a frog and a turtle.
Loren slurping noodles at Kizakura's restaurant
Somewhat lewd kappa sculpture at Kizakura's kappa museum
After that we called it a day. The weather was miserable; we bought a cheap umbrella at a corner store and headed home.
Wednesday.
It was my turn to be sick. Spent most of the day on the couch in the lounge drinking tea and reading my book. Loren did some wandering around the city without me.
Thursday.
Last day. I was feeling a little better, we mostly just got ourselves packed and headed to the airport around mid-day.
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