Saturday 23 November 2013

North Side

The next morning I got a spin off the building inspector from the local Council out doing his rounds, I stopped off in Monganui for my morning coffee, where some aul wan was so enamoured by my being Irish that she asked me to could I come out and work on her farm. I assured her that there wasn't a baby in the world with a bottom softer than my hands !

After spending a day extra in Paihia I had to miss out on Matai Bay which was a dose cos again it came very highly recommended by Diana the Kraut. I was heading all the way north to Cape Reinga. Got a spin off a phenomenally cool old geezer who arrived in the country 15 years earlier with his wife and not a word of english between them. They had spent the majority of their lives in communist East Germany, which I'd imagine, was no bag of laughs. He had a plumbing business for 12 years in Auckland (after spending the first year waiting for a work visa and learning english).  They sold that up, moved north and bought a farm.  They'd no experience nor an idea of what they were doing but learned how to make cheese and harvest olives and now they've a fully fledged hobby farm, the produce of which they sell at the market at weekends, with their free time spent scuba diving. Some pup and some life he has !

Northland and especially the Far North (thats actually the name, these white settlers weren't the most inventive lot!) is a magical place, absolutely beautiful, with rolling green hills and pristine, mostly untouched white sanded beaches and a fantastic climate.  Generally the people I met, while maybe not the most amazing craic or anything were absolutely sound out. Really laid back, all-round decent and easy to get along with.

Northland countryside


Got a few lifts off Maori guys and I've never been so enthralled by an accent before, unreal ! They are all exactly like the characters from Boy, a high pitched stacatto-like voice where they practically put a fully stop after every word !

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uULUhAa90z0

Generally speaking, it was the most successful hitchhiking I'd ever done, rarely waiting for more than ten minutes.  Twice, I'd cars pull up before I'd even gotten my bags from the previous car ! While mostly, guys my own age, I got collected by all sorts, old women, families, the works.  But as I waited at the turn off for Spirits Bay, I was ready to change plans because not one car had passed me and I'd waited for over an hour.  All of a sudden a car came screeching around the corner and jammed on the breaks.  It was a gravel road and as we sped down it, Adam from England, shouted at me that he does rally driving back home.  As my face practically retreated into my head from the speed we were travelling, I mustered a nod back to him, Jeaaysus. He was just coming to the end of a 2 year round-the-world trip, 2 weeks here, 2 weeks there. I could quite imagine it, certainly if he traveled like he drove anyway. When I told him I was off to Zambia, he said it was in his top three countries he'd been to alongside Vietnam and Colombia.  Music to my ears, any country on a par with Colombia is good by me.

Spirits Bay was fantastic, we sat down on this vast, open beach, about 3km in length with two jutting headlands on either side.  Like most places it had a strong significance to Maori culture, it was where the spirits of the dead gathered before departing on their final journey to the afterlife.


Spirits Bay
After Adam had legged it, leaving a dust-storm in his wake, I camped out at a really cool DOC (Department of Conservation) campsite and got chatting to McCall and Alex, a cool Canadian couple who were planning on doing the 3 day hike out around Cape Reinga the following day. We went out to the beach to watch the sun set, a fantastic experience.







Saturday 16 November 2013

Tally Ho !

In hindsight (and probably foresight to come to think of it), working til the friday before the monday  wasn't ideal but I managed.  Still, after 5 hours kip (packing boxes for shipping til 3 in the am) and an epic weekend finale I managed to make my Sydney flight in plenty of time, courteousy of J L Spanos Taxi Service.  My 9 weeks of travel were to commence. First stop Sydney.

Purpose purely to visit my aunty Josephine before I left her as the sole Daly in Australia.  She was none too impressed by my departing! Met up with Laura Sull (late of Bishopstown) and her pal Louise down in Coogee. Dinner with Jo and Richard followed and just relaxed for the eve.  Early flight to Auckland awaited me the next day.

My third trip to New Zealand having hitched around the South Island two years previously and a long weekend with Hessie to visit Trev and the Duffmeister (an incident packed weekend that was !), both of which had whetted my appetite for a third.  On arrival I had planned on heading north straight away but serious winds (up to 200km/h) put paid to that so I decided to stay put in Auckland for the night.

It mightn't look it but New Zealand is bloody big (tiny compared to Australia but 3.5 times the size of Ireland with a similar population size) so I had planned to limit my trip to Northland and the Coromandel. Had such a good time hitching previously and I was traveling alone for the most part I decided to repeat the task, partly for practicality reasons but mainly for adventure. Maybe I've become bored of actually arriving in my planned location on time by bus or something !  But continually met the coolest, interesting people who'd all hitched themselves in the past.

Got onto Izzy, my ole pal from my early Melbourne day, lived together in East Brunswick with the Wangaratta Crew (Nat, Joe and Stef). Izzy had moved back to Auckland and was living with her boyfriend and his pals in a converted shop on Symonds Street, really central location. Great to catch up with her again.

Took off early the day, bused to Silverdale, stocked up on supplies and stuck the thumb out. Not a great spot to commence but got a few short lifts and I was away.  Two young german shams who were living in some hut in the forest brought me most of the way (their car seemed to have been lived in for a fair bit of time too, fuckin mank!).

After a failed attempt at getting to Tawharanui (campsite was closed), the guy who brought me there dropped me all the way back to where he'd first collected me, I got a lift from an old English guy by the name of  Richard. Absolute gent of a man, dropped me (again, completely out of his way) to Goat Island and insisted on collecting me the next morning, which he did, to help me on my way.  He also invited me to visit himself and his wife on their estate at Hawkes Bay for a few days, legend. Unfortunately it was a fair bit out of my way so I couldn't.



That day I made my way up to Paihia the tourist town from which to access the Bay of Islands, which is the major kiwi attraction in Northland. Camped in the holiday park (which was surprisingly good, not usually a fan), lovely setting overlooking an estuary, and some sound people staying there, some good nattering was done.

Photo of dawn breaking from my tent in Paihia
Hung out with Diana the Kraut the next day, decent company if fairly dry, doing touristy things like visiting Waitangi, where the Treaty was signed (as late as 1840) basically turning the country into a colony of England.  I couldn't really see why this was this was is annually celebrated as a significant day for the country as it seemed to have sold the Maori people a pup (the crafty fckers wrote up a different Treaty in English with quite different conditions!).  But apparently it gave the Maori's a better deal than they'd have otherwise gotten. Headed over to Russell, the first capital of the country, and a heritage town. Pretty bland and dull to me.

Early the next morn I set off on a yacht with Laurent and Camille, a french couple and our skipper Glenn to the Bay of Islands.  Great day out, beautiful spot generally.  A rake of dolphins out there and a visit to the lovely Waewaetorea Island.  Later that night I talked the frenchies through the NZ v Aus match as they'd never watched rugby before !

Waewaetora Island


Next day I bailed, (not before time, gettin slightly tired of Paihia's touristy feel). Sweltering heat and a few lifts later (one from an 80+ year old woman - I love these stereotype defeating occurrences!) I got dropped off at the turn off to Taupo Bay (which came highly recommended by Diana the Kraut). Waited for quite a while, no traffic on this gravel road, finally a pick-up came screaming around the corner and jammed on the breaks. The two lads told me to jump aboard, I gladly obliged. As we tore off again, a hand sprung out the window with a bottle, the two lads were boozin (as you do!), it was a pre-mixed bottle of bourbon and coke, rancid shit but I didn't want to appear ungrateful so I grabbed it and took a few token swigs.  Good buzz all the same, traveling in the back of the pick-up with the wind battering me. Dropped me all the way to the beach, who says rednecks can't be sound ! Taupo was only gorgeous, more appealing than the Bay of Islands even.

Taupo Bay

Friday 15 November 2013

Melbourne Town

Looking back now, tis nearly three years since I arrived to Australia's shores, part of the most recent wave of Eire's youth flocking out across the world, our nomadic tribe, in a movement that has coloured our history and both enriched and pained our people.  Its a country that exists well beyond its boundaries.

My arrival in November 2010 took in a process of detainment that many experienced in Ellis Island in the past and many non-white arrivee's still experience today before finally setting foot on Australian soil.  My 36 hours in Kuala Lumpur International Airport, however, was completely of my own doing and not of the authorities.  I had spent the day scratching my ass, waiting to head to the airport, completely unaware that my flight was 1 hour earlier than i'd thought. Clown ! Missed it by ten minutes (I did eventually cope on) and spent the next day and a half like that Iranian sham who spent 17 years in Charles De Gaulle airport (although he didn't have The Sopranos to help him through it).

I left Melbourne with so many positive memories and a life richer for having lived there. It was fuckin class. Leaving came quickly, the decision was more about timing as long as I still had the freedom to decide. I did. I was off. Thank you and g'luck !

I will miss the place, I had great people there that I shared the three years with. Top notch. That's the hard part. It was the first place I'd moved to that I had people already there - Keefe, Brads, Wonger, Rowan, Spanos and Trev (three hours away up in the hills).  The first two legged it after a few weeks but the others were a major help, ready made networks whose friends became my friends.  That makes the lot of a dirty immigrant all the easier and I didn't really experience the tough settling in period, at least not a prolonged one.

Its a really stimulating city, an easy one in which to exist.  The contrast between life in Gertrude St of Fitzroy and that which awaits me in Zambia couldn't be starker! A largely white, secular, liberal area where stresses revolved around which cafe to breakfast in and which to take coffee in (to do both in the same place would be an unthinkable waste).  But with that, the cushy living, comes a lack, of what I'm not sure but the grittiness and friction that comes in other less 'liveable' places brings also stimulation and interest.  Not that it lacks character but a monoculture of 'creatives' and 'progressives' detracts from an area having a 'soul' so to speak.

My pad in Fitzroy

Melbourne gave me a lot. Super friends, work was great, and I'd a helluva lot of fun. In hindsight it worked out wonderfully, Canada may also have. I left while the going was good but I was comfortable that the timing was right.  My gut agreed and my gut has been good to me over the years.

Leaving was a bit of a rush but I probably managed it better than I expected.  Working up until the friday before my before my monday departure put me under all sorts of pressure to carry out all the things that needed doing but it got done.  A quality weekend to wrap it up was had, centred around a tremendous friday eve at Lilly Blacks, a typical laneway city centre watering hole that is a speciality that Melbourne does oh so well.  Having to work around the different groups required a bit of effort but it was so great to see all those I'd spent the previous three years with and a wonderful send-off to boot that continued into the not so early hours of the morning, gettting down in Boney.

Melbourne, I tip my hat to you, its been immense.