Vineyards

This is, hands down, my favorite view on the island.  This shot doesn't do it justice because apparently the iPhone isn't into panoramic, but you get the idea.  Its four vineyards that meet in a valley about a fourth mile from Tim's.

Happy Birthday Mama.

Zorbin'

Finally, my dream of traveling like a hamster and being the villain from The Prisoner is realized.

Fun with Sheep!

As mentioned, Hobbiton is also a sheep farm.  So half of the tour was exploring the film sets, and the other half was watching sheep shearing in a creepy shed where no one could hear you scream.

I bring this up because think of the potential for the compound tour once we have a gimmick.  Jimmy could lead a class in wood carving.  Uncle Chuck could show the proper way to set up barricades on the ditch following a hurricane.  Mum can lead seminars on laptops now that she has one.  And Annie could just be her adorable self.

Dad said I would only blog once then forget....

....turns out, I could keep it up for about a month.  Anyway its storming here so I'm going to finally update.  Leigh Anne was here about three weeks ago and we kicked off her visit by going straight to Hobbiton, formally known as Matamata before Peter Jackson got his hairy little hands on it.

Jackson found the land by way of a helicopter ride.  Before becoming Bag End, it was a prosperous sheep farm.  He rented the land and lived in the main house for over 13 months, having all the dailies sent there from Wellington.  When the shoot was over, New Line packed up all of the sets; however due to a wicked rainstorm they left some behind thinking it was too damaged to ever be used again.

That's when the sheep farmer's middle son, an accountant, realized he had the makings of a tourist trap.

Its a pretty surreal tour.  A bus takes you from town out to the farm and around the land.  The tour guide was freakishly knowledgeable, not only about the films but also about the family.  

"That branch is where Frodo eats an apple in the first five minutes of the first film."

"To the right you will see Ed and his daughters, herding the sheep .  Ed married his school sweetheart five years ago."

"Who wants to reenact the Hobbit dance?"

"Over there is a possum."

Apparently New Line sends out spies every once in a while to check up on the farm and make sure they are not playing movie clips or selling paraphernalia.  Because we were American, the tour guide paid us extra special attention.

Anyway the whole tour gave me some great ideas about the Compound Tour we could have.  All we need is a hook.  

I move to Rooooockferry

Oh, and I saw Duffy last night.  It made me miss dancing with Annie in the kitchen real bad.

(sorry for the picture quality.  i think we've finally spotted the iphone's camera weaknesses.)

Garden Party

This past weekend I covered a Garden Party at Fenton Estates, one of the vineyards on the island.  It was a fundraiser for the WESTPAC rescue helicopter trust, and a truly classy affair.  I got to meet the New Zealand Prime Minister John Key, who spoke at the event.  It was the first time he had been to Waiheke since being elected (he too was brought in to the fold in November, however to much less fanfare as old Obama).  It's kind of funny to think about: America went liberal, while New Zealand, a pretty hippy dippy place, elected a right wing guy.

It was amazing how not a big deal it all was.  There was minimal security, I wasn't frisked or anything, and I only made out three or four bodyguards.  I'm used to seeing political figures with press cores, he had maybe three reporters following him.  

I ended up sitting next to him for a bit and we talked about his new job and how I was liking New Zealand.  It was all pretty surreal, but then again that could have been the open bar.  Anyway here are some pictures of the party as well as of the amazing view the estate had (because WASPS everywhere, even in foreign countries, have the best views).

Hans Holbein the Younger paints cattle

During my travels, I came across a town park.  What made this park special were its two huge painted portraits of cattle.  I have no idea what that was about, still don't, but I like the idea of these two cows getting immortalized.  Maybe their the Adam and Eve and the town is populated by cow people, which I will leave to you all's imaginations of what that would look like.

WOMAD

I spent my 24th birthday being driven to New Plymouth, a town five hours south, drinking mimosas (open container laws be damned).

Tim and Zack took me to WOMAD, that's World of Music and Dance for those not in the know.  It was as fun and hippie as you would expect with lots of barefoot children, fire poi, zhengs, and bhatoora.

It was pretty awesome.  I've been to a few musical festivals, that while fun, had there drawbacks: overcrowding (Voodoo Fest), drunken jerks (Jazz Fest), too expensive (Conchella) and just plain dangerous (Virgin Music Fest in inner-city Baltimore...shudder...).  This one was interesting in that everyone was so polite.  When a couple asked another couple to move their lawn chairs so they could have a better view, the little sadist in me anticipated a fight. But nope, they moved right along.  Also we were able to leave our belongings at the main stage and not worry about them getting stolen.  

Anyway, I've already written 700 words on the festival for the paper on deadline so I'm not going to go into it anymore, except to say that the next WOMAD is in Abu Dhabi at the end of April.  So if Columbia doesn't happen, I think I know where I'm headed next.*

*Please, please don't tell Mum

Here are some pictures of the festival taken with my trust iPhone.  I also included a beach shot.  That body of water is the Tasman Sea and if you squint really, really hard you can see Australia.

Fake it 'till you make it

And so, after three days of work at the Gulf News, I have my first byline in a New Zealand paper.*

*And I'm still not exactly sure how the government works.

Bowls

It's if bowling had an affair with bocce in cricket's house.

In this act, Woodward and Bernstein will be played by kiwi

I'd heard of cultural shock.  I knew when I went to a foreign country I should have felt out of my element.  Uncle Tim kept warning me about it; whenever we go out and interact with the kerfuffle he's always asking if I'm okay and how I thought it went.  Since every thing's been fine, I really thought I wasn't susceptible to the shock.  Maybe I was evolved, or maybe New Zealand was just not that different.

That line of thinking pretty much hit a wall the second I walked into the Oneroa newsroom.  

It started out okay.  I got there early, and even then the entire staff was running thirty minutes late.  When I told the editor of all my newsroom experience, she was impressed.  I was feeling good until she went on a rant about the council's decision to ask for 60 million on appropriations.

I had no idea what council she was talking about.  Then I realized I wasn't sure what the governing body on Waiheke was.  And then it hit me I didn't know what the governing body of New Zealand was.  All I knew was that it was Parliamentary and right wing.  But is their right wing the same as ours? 

Whatever.  I'm still not sure.  I'll be wiki-ing later.  Anyway I felt out of my league.  The thing you have to understand about the island is that everyone--kids, elderly, town crazies, n'er do wells--everyone is politically aware. Hell, these people make their own compost.  There are over two hundred activist groups on the island.  Keep in mind there are only 8,000 inhabitants.  The Green party is dominant.  It's like if you were to take one of America's more liberal colleges and give them a whole island to themselves.  

(and even then its not the same.  I don't see them making compost)

Anyway.  It was shocking.  All of it.  Hopefully I'll get into the groove soon.

It beats the recliner

One of my favorite island places has to be...well...I'm not sure what you call it.

Let's go with my new reading nook.

Just a little ways down from the A-frame, the nook is situated on the cliffside facing the ocean.  It's pretty shaded and surprisingly comfortable.  

As for the other pictures, it's just other stuff I saw today.

Beach

To get to the beach from Tim's place, you have to go down a scary, if not picturesque, group of stairs.  They may not look intense, but they will wear you out.

(Incidentally, I did the stairs for the first time a few minutes after talking to Cousin Ross.  When I asked him what he had been up to, he replied "running the santa rosa stairs for two hours with friends."  He said this like it was a good thing.  Our respective healths are on entirely different levels.)

Anyway, its been pretty rainy for the past two days, but I figured I'd show you some beach shots.

The White House

Family, let me introduce you to Compound West's answer to the Cabin.

Meet the White House.

Built in 1932, it was the first structure on Tim's property and one of the first residences on the hillside.  Its a lot like the cabin, except a bit more relaxed and with a better view (no offense to the drainage ditch).

It's right next to Tim's A-frame, and uphill from where the main house is, but let's not talk about that.

One Tree Hill

Here are some pictures of One Tree Hill, a place I was familiar with only because U2 wrote a song about it back in the late '80s.  I knew there was no tree on One Tree Hill; ever since 1852, people have been cutting down any tree that sits on the hill for any number of reasons.  What I didn't know was that Uncle Tim is friends with the guy who cut it down most recently.  Apparently, the tree's latest incarnation was pine, which is not native to New Zealand.  Tim's friend, a Maori protester chopped it down.  I just love arbor revolutionaries.

Anyway, sorry for the quality.  I only had my iPhone on me, not to mention four hours of sleep.

I made it!

Woo!