Nelson in the Sun

In late April Desiree & I took a few days out and spent them in Nelson. By taking the four days after Easter as Leave, I had a 10-day break from work. Desiree was in the second week of the school holidays - it worked out well all round!

So, the idea was to fly to Nelson and just potter about there for a couple of days, then make our leisurely way over the Takaka Hill and find somewhere to stay over there.

We were booked into a Bed-and-Breakfast place on the edge of town & I hoped within walking distance of the CBD, although it proved a little further out than I'd hoped. The accommodation was a little too 'New Agey' for my liking, but, what the ...?

We only just made touchdown in Nelson, as the area was blanketed with a band of fog. As luck would have it, a gap opened at the right time to allow our plane in! It also made the scenic route the cab-driver used into town something of a mystery tour.

Nelson, huh. What does one do in Nelson? Well, if it's ANZAC Day, as it was when we arrived, not a lot until things open after lunch. We wandered about the Cathedral and then the Provincial Museum. The former was OK, but not as imposing as I remembered; the latter quite good in a simple modern style (more 'stories' than artefacts).

We found a likely place for a drink in interesting surroundings: The Free House, a 'pub' in a converted church which serves locally-brewed 'real ale'. A treat for me, although Desiree has taken to drinking beer recently, and found one she liked. What we hadn't counted on was that it was the monthly 'poetry reading' evening! We stayed for a while, but then succumbed to hunger and went in search of dinner.

We also wandered about Queen's Park Gardens, which were small, compact but very pretty. We had brunch in a cafe beside the Gardens and then into the Suter Gallery, which is surprisingly sizable, and with a number of very good exhibitions - a very pleasant way to spend an hour or so!

Shop-wandering - no real aim, passed time pleasantly enough. A rental car meant we could go to the World of Wearable Art exhibition which is outside of town. It has, as is to be expected, a display of fascinating creations, although not as many as one might have hoped for. And alongside it is a gallery of classic cars, and some beautiful examples indeed.

We also visited Te Mania Vineyard out near Appleby, and the Höglund Art Glass Studio & Gallery. Restaurants we tried and would recommend: The Boatshed Cafe over-looking Nelson Harbour, and the very pleasant, central city When in Rome Italian restaurant.

I had decided that we would take the coastal route to Motueka (& save the inland route through Upper Moutere for the return trip). We avoided the 'new' bypass route in favour of the old coastal road through Mapua and Ruby Bay. I was taken by how different the landscape is from when I was there as a teenager - smaller acreages under orchards and 'baches'; a lot more 'lifestyle' blocks and flash houses. We stopped at Mapua, for a wander around the jetty and a couple of shops before settling on a cafe & bar for brunch. And very nice it was too.

Motueka was bigger and much more given to servicing tourist needs than I remembered (from 40 years ago!).

So that meant over the Takaka Hill. When last we did it, we were in a dodgy second-hand Mini, the thermostat in which decided to mis-behave, so the trip up & over was fraught with over-heating problems. No such dramas this time however! I must confess I had completely forgotten just how high the hill is (791 metres) and how spectacular the views can be. Although the day wasn't brilliant, still the vistas are breath-taking, and even more so in the clearer weather we had on the return trip on Friday.

I even saw these very odd little mushrooms, with their silver caps, near the top of the hill!

We were keen to stay somewhere close to the sea, so, as Takaka is inland a few kilometres, we headed to Pohara Beach, and found a perfectly ordinary but satisfactory motel. That meant we had ample time to go back to Takaka and wander their small collection of shops. There is a heavy presence of artists in the region, and the tourist-orientated shops smack of aging hippies and New-Agers, but a refreshing change from Westfield Malls!

If Takaka is a 'town' (& that might be stretching things a little), then Collingwood is a village, but appears to have a more interesting history of fluctuating fortunes based around it's port, extractive industries and a series of unfortunate fires. It has two contrasting 'museums', side-by-side: one is a modernist approach utilising text-heavy 'story panels' and almost total absence of artifacts; next door is a separate building made up of two large display cases separated by a central passage. This latter is a collection of memorabilia and artifacts, a collector's passion, one imagines.

Wandering back to Pohara we paused at a workshop-gallery to ooh and aah at the prices of paintings and pottery, but without buying. We also stopped at the Mussel Inn - a delightful pub in "the middle of nowhere" based on a boutique brewery, which apparently is doing so well they can't meet the demand and so have contracted another brewer in Invercargill to brew to order!

Being seaside, the motel gave us a good view of the Bay, and the sunset, as well as an excuse to walk along the beach. It also attracted others, including one couple who brought their cat with them in their car, and took it for a walk on a leash beside the beach!

The return trip over the Hill was in glorious sunshine. In Motueka we turned off the main route to go through Upper Moutere.

I also saw this hawk beside the road, which haughtily looked us down, and then lazily took off to circle for prey.

We stopped at the village of Upper Moutere which was originally called Sarau by the original German settlers. Desiree finally succumbed to the crafts and bought a lovely small ornamental platter.

That left us with plenty of time to luxuriate in the warmth and sunshine over brunch, so we called at Waimea Estate for lunch in vineyard before heading for the airport and home - rested and refreshed.

Oh - I nearly forgot! There is a GALLERY of larger versions of the pictures above and the others from the trip HERE.

It rained!

Not for long, but heavily!

Our backyard is testimony to that.

Our House

May Day

Today (don't be fooled by the date above; this server is behind NZ time!) is May 1. Traditionally, this has been celebrated in many parts of the world as a significant holiday or festival. Celtic societies called it Beltane (or Bealtaine).

Beltane marked the beginning of the pastoral summer season when the herds of livestock were driven out to the summer pastures and mountain grazing lands. The lighting of bonfires on Oidhche Bhealtaine ('the eve of Bealtaine') on mountains and hills of ritual and political significance was one of the main activities of the festival. Another common aspect of the festival in Ireland was the hanging of May Boughs on the doors and windows of houses and the erection of May Bushes in farmyards, which usually consisted either of a branch of rowan/caorthann (mountain ash) or more commonly whitethorn/sceach geal (hawthorn) which is in bloom at the time and is commonly called the 'May Bush'. Furze/aiteann was also used for the May Boughs, May Bushes and as fuel for the bonfire.

But in more modern times, May Day has been co-opted by Left-wing organisations, and is celebrated as International Workers' Day.

In many countries it reflects the struggle to achieve the eight-hour working day, and is often referred to as Labor Day. New Zealand, of course, has it's own Labour Day, celebrated in October each year, to mark the eight-hour day principle fought for and won in the nineteenth century.

In a number of communist countries (The Soviet Union, East Germany, Poland, etc) May Day was used as an opportunity to show off the military muscle of these "peoples' states" - a jingoistic display of the 'victory' of the proletariat, as manifest in the virtue of the workers' party, the Communist Party.

So does the date continue to have relevance in 2011? I believe so, and perhaps, more than for many years.

In New Zealand we are 'blessed' with a centre-Right government. There have already been moves to wind-back the hard-won protections for workers - laws allowing employers to insist on a 90-day get-out clause (permitting sackings without reason or compensation) and the 'buy-back' of leave. The balance has swung firmly in favour of employers - the natural supporters of the National-led centre-right government.

And now National's bedmate in this government, ACT, has seen a leadership coup with disturbing overtones. The hard-rightist Don Brash has replaced Rodney Hide, suggesting the pressure will be stepped up on the Government to enact more measures designed to benefit the money-men, at the expense of workers and consumers.

The need for vigilance by workers is more necessary than before.

And then there is the continued disturbances in the Arab world - the latest being the growing tide of dissent in Syria. Libya continues to fester in civil war, while Yemen and Bahrain are still twitchy.

But the Middle Eastern ructions are not about "workers' rights", in the left-wing sense; they are not an expression of socialist-tinged or -led outrage at their exploitation by ruthless capitalists. The theme which seems to run through all of the current unrest in the Arab world, is a demand for "freedom" - from oppression by ruling oligarchs as much as from exploitation by capitalists, local or trans-national.

This demand for freedom manifests itself as calls for regime change, or the deposing of ruling elites, and for democratic elections. It is, in other words, more explicitly political than economic.

And yet the two are intrinsically linked.

For underlying both strands is the same human impulse: a need for what academics are now calling "agency". A need, in plain language, to have some control over one's own destiny, and to be treated with respect and dignity. To be paid fairly, to have enough time in one's life to enjoy life's pleasures, to have one's voice heard and views given due weight and consideration.

Those are the shared wishes of people everywhere - New Zealand as much as Libya; the USA as much as Syria; Great Britain as much as Yemen.

If we wish to preserve the gains made thus far, we need to remind ourselves that "Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty." [Wendell Phillips]

And marking May Day is an opportunity to heed Edmund Burke's caution: "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

Postscript

And what of the English Royal Wedding?

I'm with Billy Bragg: "The wedding was a just a display of harmless pageantry compared to the pernicious flummery of the Queen's Speech. Wills and Kate offer no real threat to our democracy, but the royal prerogative does, allowing the prime minister to exercise executive power without first consulting parliament. That's where reformers should focus their anger, not on two young people getting married. I wish them well."

The Windsors are the current rump of the oligarchs who ruled England and conquered Scotland, Wales and (parts of) Ireland. While their powers are today curtailed, and ordinary citizens have much greater liberty than they did in the monarch's heyday, that is a matter of degree (and for "eternal vigilance").

The unrest in the Arab world should remind us of the dangers if we are not vigilant.

Lest We Forget

The Scots of Waipu

On our way home from Paihia in January (Haven't I told you about that trip yet? I'll have to soon!), we took a short detour off Highway 1 to visit Waipu.
Why Waipu? Well, it has an interesting story of migration of a group of Scots after the Highland Clearances to New Zealand by way of Nova Scotia. It is the site of one of the few organised settlements in New Zealand (Wellington, Nelson, Dunedin, and Katikati are others of course).
But it's story is different in that New Zealand wasn't the original destination; rather the immigrants had headed for Novia Scotia, and then headed inland. Dissatisfaction with the settlement as it was developing there persuaded the community to try Australia, and while there, heard about New Zealand and so determined to try their luck across the Tasman.

View Larger Map
We had a wander around their museum, which has to rank as one of the best small, local museums we have visited. Not only do they have a fascinating tale to tell, they do so very well.
Especially appealing was the detail they have available about the individual settlers, and the extent to which the descendants of those settlers are still 'attached' to Waipu, and return for the Highland Games or for special commemorations.
In addition to the Museum, we had lunch, and wandered about a second-hand shop.
Oh, and I also took some photos of the Presbyterian Church, as I do. Although not the original building, it is still an impressive and attractive building.

But I was very taken by a small, inconspicuous memorial behind the Church - one I have only encountered before in Eastern Cemetery in Invercargill: a memorial to those children who died before birth. It is a very touching sight.

War in the Desert

I have been following the war in Libya with considerable interest. It resonates on several levels.
Firstly, the movement backwards and forwards along the coastal roads has echoes of the course of the battles during the Western Desert Campaign in World War Two.

Desiree's father served in that campaign, and I remember him talking to us about it, and the hardships of fighting in the desert conditions.

And there are the staggering pictures of the amateur soldiers with makeshift equipment and whatever weapons they can lay their hands on taking on Gaddafi's professionally trained regular troops, not to mention the mercenaries apparently recruited by Gaddafi. The progress of the war in Libya is a fascinating study in how a rag-tag army can, in certain circumstances, take on the professionals, albeit now with the aid of European & American air-strikes to neutralise Gaddafi's forces, especially their tanks.
And the 'popularism' of the rebels is, in itself, a fascinating glimpse into the changes sweeping through the Arab world. That world has long seen power concentrated in the hands of traditional elites; now, with the aid of new networking tools, the populace are finding their voice, organising (Yes, alright, the term is used loosely!), and making their views not only known but imposing them.
The elites are struggling right across the Arab world, whether allies of 'the West' (like Saudi Arabia or Bahrain) or virulent opponents like Syria. And their regimes are toppling.
But not with a fight, as Gaddafi in Libya and Assad in Syria are showing. And in both cases they resort to demonising the rebels as the puppets of foreigners (read the West, and especially USA), or colonialist Crusaders, invoking strands running deep through the history of the region.
What they seem incapable of accepting is that their day has passed; that they have outlived their usefulness, and that the 'people' they claim to represent and in whose interests they say they (selflessly) rule, don't actually want a bar of them.
And, worringly in the case of Libya and Syria, they will inflict considerable damage and harm to their citizenry before they relinguish their hold on the reins of power.