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!