The 'Paris of South America': "Una botesha de malbec por favor?"

Flying in from opposite sides of the world, Roger and I reunited at the Tienda Leon bus station, Buenos Aires (BA). I was feeling pretty good, having achieved a Premium Economy upgrade thanks to AirNZ airpoints and eaten breakfast craning my neck to view the Chilean Andes. Roger had already been on a run through a park, lunched at an Italian and bought breakfast for our Airbnb, after arriving earlier on an awful Al Italia flight followed by long arrival queues. That night we took the subway to a steakhouse in trendy Palermo, where we had our first taste of HUGE Argentine portions andMalbec (although the maitre'D was unimpressed by our (in)ability to discuss the wine list in Spanish). We dashed back through the streets under a sudden, heavy rainstorm.

The next day we maxed out the BA walking tours. In the morning, the grand Parisien architecture, palaces, monuments and stories, particularly around history and politics. (Las Portenas (BA'ians): descended from Italians, speak Spanish, and live in a French style city with the airs and graces of English lords.) Our guide was quite outspoken, but presented the Falklands Memorial pretty evenly, which faces the mini 'Big Ben' gift from the English after WW1. 



After a salad bar lunch and icecream-flavour navigation in Spanish, we joined the Cementerio de la Recoleta tour - a highlight of the city that took us through crazy, ornate, grand, spooky and stylish crypts, from Eva Peron to a horrifying story of a young woman accidentally entombed alive, to a beloved wife killed in an avalanche and followed shortly by her dog (from unknown causes). 











Our Spanish was put to the test buying bus tickets to Cordoba, after which we needed a nap ahead of a colourful and sexy tango-and-dinner show. 

Leaving our bags at the bus station we thoroughly enjoyed the Museo Nacional de Belles Artes, from the traditional Argentinian religious inconography to bauhaus furniture. Lunch was a long affair in a little Mediterranean-feel courtyard cafe, with HUGE desserts that were probably the result of poor Spanish. 

We wandered through the Plaza de Mayo main square into the Puerto Madero area (having established the political history museum was closed), visiting a private art collection with some striking nudes and Antarctica photographs (in different displays). On the advice of a very helpful tourist info man we then pretended we were dressed better than we were, and took the lift up to the swanky bar in a high rise Puerto Madero hotel for sundowner drinks. Sun set, we scooted over to the bus station, wolfing down takeaway pizza ready for our overnight cama (bed) bus to Cordoba!

A short final note from the land of the long white cloud

[Dora] Roger wrote this, but he could have been reading my mind. 

Our arrival seems like yesterday. We landed in Auckland in the middle of a rain storm, an inauspicious start to an auspicious 22 months. Soon afterwards we were aboard a train towards Wellington, which has been our base for the last two years as we explore New Zealand.

We were immediately blown away by Aotearoa’s beauty. However, in our first few months we naturally missed home, particularly the friends and family who bid us such a warm farewell.

Now we’re on the other side of our journey, and we’re going through the same process. We’re again heading into the unknown, and while we’re pleased to be returning to the UK, we already miss our Kiwi friends and family.

Thank you to all of you who made our life in Wellington wonderful – we’ve lived, dined, swam, run, dragonboated, tramped, played, drank, planned, journeyed, cycled, worked and laughed together. In doing so, we’ve made a home away from home. It's been awesome sharing some of our adventures with visiting family and friends too.

We now know there are at least two places in the world we love loving. It’s unfortunate they’re on opposite sides of the world, but luckily we love sustained periods in cramped seating and bingewatching rubbish films! While we don’t know what the future holds, we do know it’s likely hold a great deal of New Zealand.

Off we go to South America, then New York, London and Riga (for a little while). We’ll keep the dispatches going for a little while longer.

p.s. Roger has actually been in London for work for the last few weeks. He’s been sofa surfing from friend to friend and catching up with family on the weekends. Meanwhile, Dora has been finishing her time at Meridian and saying her final goodbyes. 

We're now in Argentina - expect to hear more from us soon!

A true kiwi Labour Weekend

[Dora]

I can't write about Labour Weekend without mentioning the weekend before at Craigend, celebrating Andrew's birthday and seeing Tom, Sophie and Sylvie. Sylvie showed she was just as relaxed on the farm moving heifers as in a party situation, and will soon rival her cousins in spa pool aquabatics. When we next visit NZ we'll be coming to Whangarei!

On Thursday I boarded the evening chaos bus from Wellington train station to Bulls, listening almost all the way to the election coverage as Jacinda was annointed our new PM! Across the country (Gisborne) celebratory bubbles were packed into long-weekend-loaded cars.

Heading to Lake Rotoiti, Trish, Andrew, Tilly the Boat and I made a stop at Redwoods mountain bike park near Rotorua, to recce some mean trails for Trish's school trip. After some warm ups, I recced one particular downhill corner very closely. But only minor harm done (broken sunglasses, skinned elbow, more unusually placed bruises) and we went round to tackle it again with success. 

At the beautiful lakeside bach, we were joined by Mark and Katie who flew in from Christchurch, and Nic, Jo, Jasper, Freddy and Belle the dog who drove from Gisborne. Soon the stress of trying to leave a country, handover my job and plan backpacking was forgotten, replaced by hanging out with small children, watersports, relaxed meals, paua fritters and one Where's Wally jigsaw puzzle.

Trish and me, enjoying a geothermal soak on the shores of Lake Rotoiti

We kayaked round to a friend's bach, biscuited, wakeboarded and surfed behind the boat (Nic), fished, water skiied and bombed off the lakeside bush. On land, we practiced headstands and showed off our biscuit-vaulting skills in the sunshine. We visited a set of hot pools you can only access by boat! We played tennis, tasted Mark and Katie's wedding bubbly and graduated Belle to adult dog biscuits. 

Too soon it was Monday and time to say goodbye. Thank you Trish and Andrew for a true kiwi, bach-based send off!

Luckily, I had my personal videographers along with me (Mark, Trish, Andrew - thank you!) to document the water-based activities. 

Biscuiting

Bombing

Water skiing

The Finale Road Trip – Part two: PASSing through the South Island

We celebrated Wanaka Wednesday with a muffin. We were meant to skydive, but it was cancelled because of high winds. Instead, we slogged up Isthmus Peak, inspired by Lucy and Rich's winter run and sustained by stunning scenery and interesting camera modes (which was lucky, since I forgot the food). 

At the top there were great views of both Lake Wanaka and Lake Hawea (the isthmus being between the two). We jogged back to the car to reach an excellent spacious breakfast-providing Airbnb in the sleepy village of Luggate, visiting its only restaurant/pub/place-with-lights-on for some warm grub. 

As the week neared its end we had one more challenge to complete – the Gillespie Pass (a big one on Dora's tramping bucket list). The start of this is reached by jet boat, but unfortunately the driver was hunting so we had to wait until early afternoon before hitting the track. Luckily the jet boat ride was entertaining enough to dispel our frustration with the delay, as we shot up-river with only six inches or so of water beneath us. On the way we dropped off some fencing wire and nails to a local farmer.

Approaching Siberia Flats

We ascended to Siberia flats, emerging from thick bush into yellow grassland, clear skies and butterflies flitting out of the grass around us as we walked (Dora: “It’s like Disney!”). After a quick turnaround at Siberia Hut we forged on to Crucible Lake, a 6-8 hour round trip that we compressed into 5 sweaty hours. A root staircase led us into a hanging valley, where we ascended a moraine dam to enjoy sights of the frozen lake. 

On the lip of Crucible Lake

Our dash back to the hut took us back across several knee deep streams. Luckily Dora had read how to cross such things in Wilderness and we executed perfect best practice backcountry river crossings. Unluckily we had the slowest drying boots ever, making the next day extra uncomfortable (more on that later).

Even more luckily, our English/Australian hut co-inhabitants were very nice, and very good at making fires, which meant we arrived back to a warm room and pre-heated water for some healthy sustenance (inc. marshmallows). They had been playing hut parents for a couple of days, looking after a French girl who'd arrived having crossed the Pass on her own in pouring rain (not backcountry best practice). 

Friday was Gillespie Pass Day! After again profusely thanking our fellow hut-sleepers, we ascended beech and steep tussock, which gave way to rock and (expected) snow. It was a hard climb to the summit of the pass (1629m), where we briefly admired the forebodingly named Mt. Awful and Mt Dreadful, with an eye on the weather, before descending an even steeper track through tussock into the Young Valley.  

Made it to the top! Mt Awful (left) and Dreadful (right)

The descent into Young Valley

Once we’d re-entered the bush and found Young Hut for lunch, we decided to append another 20km to our 12km mountain pass and get to Makarora the same evening. The hut was cold, the weather was forecast to worsen, and we liked the idea of proper sheets. A rooty route march ensued as we loafed down the Young River valley. We crossed creeks, sped over swing bridges, and completed the day with a fording of the Makarora River that re-soaked our feet (and our thighs). Once we’d rejoined the main road some students from Wellington picked us up, as they neared the end of their own adventurous day trip from Picton to Queenstown (872km!). 

Back at our car, we were relieved to discover a vacancy in tiny Makarora's three A-frame 'chalets' ("I really would like an en suite tonight" - Dora) which meant we didn't have to drive back to Wanaka. The evening closed with us eating warm food, having warm showers, and warmly drying our wet clothing in front of two heaters. The subsequent steam set off the fire alarm. 

‘Ouch’ characterised the next morning, especially in the feet - Dora's doing a particularly good shiny hams impression. We crawled into our car, and crawled over Mackenzie Country to the Banks Peninsula . Our Wanaka Skydive had been cancelled again – I’m increasingly convinced they never happen. However, we’d hatched a plan to see some penguins, so after a hefty hearty brunch in Tarras we made for Akaroa, where a nice pizza, an odd hostel (room like a shed, only accepted cash) and a penguin tour awaited!

Very briefly disturbing the nesting penguin

Spot the penguin

A 4x4 bus took us to Flea Bay, where over a thousand making penguin pairs reside. At dusk the male and female swap babysitting duties, providing a great opportunity for humans to excitedly gawp at them, which we did. We were even lucky enough to see the rare Yellow Eyed penguin, as it trudged up the hill to its nest wish a resignation we recognised from our time on the Gillespie Pass. Our return to Akaroa was notable for the repeated intrusion of cows on the road, much to the consternation of our guide and laughter of the two children on the tour.

On Sunday morning we enjoyed a lovely breakfast and catch up with Jack, Charlotte and Miranda at their place near Akaroa. We then lunched with Phoebe, whose Harbour Tour was torpedoed by the shocking weather. It was the annual French weekend, so a glass of Pinot with food seemed appropriate. Driving back into Christchurch, we had the pleasure of visiting an exhibition at Christchurch Art Gallery by Dora’s cousin Julia, before joining her, Andy, their son Felix and Diana and David. 

I unfortunately had to leave to catch my flight back to Wellington, but Dora stayed in Christchurch an additional day for work, staying the night with her cousin Henry and his family Tomomi, Bianca and Manon. So started the month of fond and sad goodbyes to family and friends!

The Finale Road Trip – Part one: falling from heights

The latter half of the week before last was a whirlwind of logistics. On Friday, for example, we packed a MoveCube to be shipped back to the UK (8am), welcomed a cleaning army into our flat (10am) and handed over the keys to the new occupier (2pm). In between this, I had my final day at SenateSHJ, which concluded with drinks and a great lamb roast at The Bresolin. 

Matt and Phoebe kindly put us up for the night, and by chance were also flying out of Wellington Airport on Saturday morning. While they went North for some musical fun in Auckland, we scooted South, to tick off some final ‘must dos’ before we depart Aotearoa (New Zealand). 

We landed in the adventure capital of Queenstown, quite an adventure in itself as we descended below the tops of the Southern Alps.  After a supply stop at Pak’nSave we popped to the DOC office to purchase some hut passes, receiving a parking ticket for the pleasure.

The drive up Lake Wakatipu quickly dispelled our annoyance, with great views of azure waters below white-topped peaks. We blinked, so missed Glenorchy, and quickly reached the start of the Routeburn Track, which Greg and Becky completed last summer.

Time was getting on, so we donned our tramping gear and pressed onwards and upwards, depositing our heavier bag at Routeburn Falls Hut and reaching Harris Saddle. It was quite snowy, but the weather held out long enough for us to taste the famous views. We marched back to the Hut for some dubious dehydrated dinner, and slept well.

Sunrise from the Hut

The next morning we walked out, swimming in the river to wash away the exertions of the previous day. We established there was little to see in Glenorchy, so went to the locally-famous Kinloch Lodge, where they kindly upgraded us because of my winning smile (I think). 








Bikes were hired and we set off towards the Greenstone River, fording a couple of streams and enjoying the downhills much more than the ups. 

Our post-cycle recuperation took place in a hot tub. The views were stunning, enough to entertain me for about five minutes before I got bored of sitting in warm water. Even more recuperation took place over a dinner of venison stew and fish & chips, before a guided sunset kayak completed a pretty activity-packed day. 

After a Monday morning breakfast of homemade beans and homelaid eggs we drove to Queenstown, where I had convinced Dora we should spend a day downhill mountain bike riding. We overcame the parking challenges presented by a tourist honeypot that need a bigger pot, grabbed some serious-looking helmets and gondola-ed our way up the hill. 

It turns out downhill mountain biking is quite terrifying. The brakes are rather sharp, leading Dora to fly over the handlebars at the first corner. However, over the next four hours our confidence built, such that we zoomed down ‘Thunder Goat’ with only a fleeting consideration of our mortality (it’s much steeper than the intermediate tracks in our local mountain bike park). 

We nursed our bruises at a lovely Airbnb in Arrowtown, where our host provided a warm bedroom, a washing machine and some marinated chicken legs. All were much appreciated. 

Weeeeeee

On Tuesday I went for a pre-breakfast bungy jump, kindly purchased by my work colleagues. Although we’d throw ourselves off bikes the previous day, throwing myself down a canyon was rather a step up. However, all went well, despite me forgetting to tuck my shirt in.

We decompressed at a nearby cheesery, before seeing what wineries Gibbston Valley had to offer. At Peregrine we were impressed by scale of the slanted roof building, as were the architects who gave the structure an award upon its completion. Rosa Wines provided an entertainingly abrupt Czech hostess. 

Back in Arrowtown, we hired bikes and circumnavigated Lake Hayes, pausing at the Amisfield Bistro to enjoy a charcuterie board at Amisfield Bistro. Highlights included the Chinese settlement in Arrowtown (they came to mine gold in the 19^th century), some weird Truman Show-style housing in the Millbrook Golf Resort and the long downhill rise to Lake Hayes (much more fun than the equivalent uphill on the return trip).  Come evening, we were ready for a hearty meal, but unfortunately opted for some Mediterranean tapas where they forgot to cook the fish, although Dora insists it was “meant to be like that”.

Thinking inside the box

The last several days have been spent packing up our worldly possessions. We’re shipping a fair few boxes home while we journey through South America, meeting it on the other side of the globe. This involves lots of guestimation and lists, in which luckily I and Dora excel respectively.

We'll never know why Matt
was eating my head...

It was Dora’s turn on Morning Tea baking duty, so Thursday evening saw us taste-testing several meringues (verdict: ✓).

The main event this weekend was our leaving party, and New Zealand’s General Election. Most of Wellington was more focussed on the former, and arrived at our flat to help finish the ‘Phatt Rob Doger’ homebrew.

We Uber-ed to Joe’s Garage for the next stage of the evening – Quaff my Bluff. The game is as follows: person pours out generous taster of wine into everyone’s glasses, reads three pretentious tasting notes – one true, two fictional – and everyone then guesses which is correct. Everyone’s a winner, some more than others.

The night then continued to a bar, a club, and Burger King. All were fun. Dora particularly enjoyed Burger King, where she played basketball and raced arcade-style racing car games. After a recuperative lie in we headed to the tip to recycle the few items we hadn’t manage to sell or giveaway, and had sausages from the resident hot dog van (‘Rock Dogs’).

We spent the last of our energies watching a film in the cinema with Tim and Sophie. I had some gift cards from work, so spent as much as I could stomach on chocolate ice cream and milkshake.

Artistic hot dog shot

This week: completing our packing, eating increasingly eclectic meals as we use up our food supplies, and I bid farewell to work.

Things to do with lemons

Roger top, Phoebe right and me running in from the left!

This week, our main challenge was to use up a bag of lemons generously donated to the editors by Trish and Andrew.

It was also a busy week of getting out of work during the day. I took up two free yoga classes with colleagues (not always recommended) and we both went to the dentist (for the parents out there). A repeat visit to the sauna with Matt and Phoebe saw us finally jump off the waterfront platforms into the harbour - a Wellington must. We had lemon, honey and garlic baked chicken and I made lemon drizzle cupcakes.

On Thursday and Saturday morning I joined four other sopranos from the choir to record the voice part of an upcoming film score. The chapel is permanently set up for recording (bought originally by Peter Jackson), and we had the headsets, through which we got a click for timing, the rest of the music and the composer giving instructions in between takes. The score was hot off the press so we only sang each line once through before recording! It was very intense. If you live in New Zealand: Kiwi Christmas is a must-see this year. As a result of the hours of recording (so hard) my throat needed a lot of hot lemon water.

Lucy and Rich hosted us all for the All Blacks' walkover of South Africa on Saturday night, with a yummy chilli, cheese cake, brownies by Laura and...guacamole with lemons by us. 

Fulfilling a "when my foot's better" promise, we jogged the Skyline Track from Karori to Johnsonville on Sunday, with solid views of turbines and the hills and less solid footing thanks to gale force winds. We recovered by eating pancakes with lemon and sugar and honey and yoghurt, and making a big dent in the moving out in-house logistics.

This week we went to the World of Wearable Arts Preview Show, in support of the Neonatal Trust. After a pre-lunch dinner with Tim and Sophie we headed into the 3000ish-seat TSB Arena. We knew it was a good show, but were blown away by the slick production and creativity of the outfits! We both liked the science fiction and UV light sections, where monsters and robots roamed the stage as dancers writhed to beats of varying popularity. 

The final lemon was squeezed at work. Now we're onto the limes...