A&P Show

... which stands for "Agricultural and Pastoral Show", otherwise known as the Royal New Zealand Show, held annually across the country but it is generally acknowledged (by Cantabrians) that the coolest one is Canterbury's, held in Christchurch every November, with a public holiday to celebrate.

It's the first time I've been in about ten years, and was hardly typical, the weather refusing to cooperate. So it wasn't the usual sweltering Canterbury November day. Who cares? When you can view the following, the sun isn't necessary.

Slightly frightening funfair games and rides.

Big strong men chopping wood really fast.

Pretty horses jumping over things.

Ridiculous sheep (and other animals).

Hanging out with the flatmates, trying not to freeze.

Eating low-quality hot-dogs that seemed sooo good at age ten.

a little piece of me is in London

It's over two weeks ago now, but here am I: displayed proudly in a glass case in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London. I'm the big one in the middle; you may JUST be able to see a sketch of a vase. As the public walked into this particular room, we were given a card and a pencil and asked to draw our favourite ceramic from home; minutes later, we were part of an exhibition. Little pieces of people.

And now I'm home. There are wonderful things about being home:
- seeing people: family, flatmates, friends.
- living in a country where cigarettes are unpopular and where smokers are subject to etiquette.
- a silly and unpredictable climate which makes me feel quite a fondness for little old New Zealand, buffeted on all sides by the weather.
- ducklings, daffodils... etc.
- getting involved in the History department again.

Less wonderful are:
- the constant questions of "how was Europe?" What else can I say but "er, really good. Do you want more detail?"
- catching up on two months of missed Russian language classes. MY HEAD HURTS.
- a feeling of boredom as I go from extreme activeness to moments of free time.
- most of all, feeling like there is a little piece of me missing.

Here is what I wrote in my diary, sitting in Heathrow Airport on 29 September, waiting to leave London:

"I cannot believe it's only two months since I came through Heathrow for the first time, but at the same time it feels like yesterday. Up until writing, I've felt very matter-of-fact about it all--oh yes, I'll be in Christchurch on Thursday--but suddenly, a wave of unease hits me, and I just know I don't want to go. New Zealand is still my favourite place in the entire world--make that GALAXY--but I feel torn. I absolutely love this place; I've no idea when I will come back, if ever; it has been, possibly, the time of my life. And I'm supposed to just go back home and settle into life again? to consider my future in an unbiased manner when everything is whispering "England! England!"? I'm one of those people I hate, Miss Travelling-CHANGED-Me - no, I'm not. At least, I hope not. But I won't be able to explain it to anyone without hurting their feelings or elevating the NZ inferiority complex, which is not my intent or purpose at all. Being away has heightened my appreciation of what we have at home to a huge extent. But I want to be in two places at once, which we all know is impossible."

So here I am now. Loving being home; missing London. Struggling to find my niche.

David Bain

New Zealand has, over the last three months, been watching an important trial take place. The retrial of David Bain, fourteen years after his family was murdered. Bain was convicted in 1995 of the murder of his father, mother, brother and two sisters, and spent the next twelve years in jail. In 2007, the Privy Council decided that this was a "substantial miscarriage of justice". The re-trial has taken place over the last few months. Yesterday evening, the jury returned a verdict of "not guilty" on all five counts of murder.

The other theory of what happened is that his father, Robin Bain, killed the others while David was out of the house, and then killed himself. David returned, and found his entire family dead.

The horrible thing about this case is that there is just not enough proof either way. There are damning circumstances on either side. But never proof. The police happened to "lose" a lot of important material that could have had a bearing on the argument that Robin Bain did it. So there will be a large amount of people around the country who still believe that David did it. Right now, he is probably the most famous person in the country, and he will never be allowed to forget this case and move on fully.

I don't think he did it. But even if he did, I wonder how it happened that he ever got convicted in the first place. It seems that the police and the media made some rather huge assumptions, even tampered with evidence, didn't follow up other leads, and it is absolutely shocking that the principle of "innocent until proven guilty" was so distorted in this case at the beginning. It is incredibly frightening that an innocent man--or at the very least a man who could in no way be proven guilty--should be left to rot in prison for thirteen years, only being given a chance to appeal his case because he was lucky enough to find a wealthy and determined supporter, Joe Karam, to fight for him and shell out millions of dollars for his cause.

I am only happy that David Bain is now a free man. I hope he can move on with his life, and be left alone by the media, who were following him like hounds last night in the hope of emotional footage (which they got). I am also extremely happy that New Zealand does not have the death penalty - at least Bain got his chance to appeal at all.

the final installment

We arrived for our final night of the road trip in Wanaka, a pleasant town on the side of a lake bearing the same name, which entertains skiiers in winter but right now is into all manner of water sports. Coming to Wanaka, it felt like we were definitely returning to civilisation - suddenly, we had electricity 24/7 if we wanted it, instead of the lights turning off at 10.30 when the generator stopped; we had boiling water on command, instead of having to boil it over a gas stove in a saucepan. I didn't really expect to enjoy Wanaka though. It felt like simply a stop on the road back to Christchurch, after a really great holiday. And after the spectacular scenery of Fiordland, the niceness of Wanaka seemed a bit tame.

However, after wandering round the shops for a while, I had to admit that civilisation was actually quite pleasant. And then after walking around the lake for an hour, yes, well, Wanaka is very pretty and actually quite scenic. Then, going for a bike ride on the cusp of the night - I like this place.

It's great biking around a lake at sunset. I should do it more often.

The next morning, it was packing up again and heading home. Should be depressing, but we were taking a pretty spectacular route. You may remember, in early November, that I took a trip with another friend into the Mackenzie Country - this time we were driving through there on our way back. But also, before we reached that area, we were driving through the Lindis Pass, which is incredibly fun to drive (easy but windy and doooowwwwn), and also amazing to look at. It looks nothing like the highway on either side but is a big clump of hills that look like someone has spread out a huge brown blanket over a few sleeping giants.

Then, onwards to Christchurch and home. I was not quite as depressed to be home as I thought I would be, as I was exhausted and I wanted to start eating food again that wasn't out of a can, but that was one heck of a holiday. Six tanks of petrol = $300, motor camp accomodation = $70, but Central Otago, Fiordland and Wanaka in five nights? Priceless.

of rivers, mountains and fiords

We find our heroines, Allie and Katie, leaving Central Otago and all its dryness for the wetness of the fiords of the south - well, so we heard, anyhow, for we managed to time our visit for two glorious days of fine weather, a rare phenomenon in Fiordland, even in summer. As we left Te Anau, the last town on our way, we took the road towards Milford Sound - a place which Rudyard Kipling once called the eighth wonder of the world. The road opened up before us and we couldn't help gasping.

We were on our way to Gunn's Camp, which is about forty minutes before Milford proper, down a long dirt road. The camp was possibly the coolest one I have ever stayed at. It looks like the huts have sat there unchanged for the past sixty, seventy years. In each hut is an old coal stove; the camp kitchen uses ancient old gas stoves; there are no microwaves, kettles or fridges; it's a primitive old camp that has a lot of character and also a lot of friendliness.

Once settled in, we continued down the road toward Milford Sound, through the Homer Tunnel which goes down through the mountain, and then pops out again high up, a strange feeling. Down, down on twisted roads, finally ending up at the sea, and at Milford Sound. Mitre Peak (in the picture below) is a famous image in New Zealand, but somehow seeing the photographs doesn't quite prepare you for the impressiveness of the real thing.

We booked tickets for a boat trip the next morning, and then made our way back to Gunn's, slowly, stopping at every little walk you can take through the rainforest to waterfalls, rivers and chasms. This is a place exploding with life.

The next morning, bright and early, we drove back to Milford to take our morning cruise at 8.55am. The boat we were on was the smallest of the options, and goes right out to the Tasman Sea to look back up the fiord. Free tea and coffee, mmMM. Waterfalls, seals sunning themselves on rocks, huge sheer mountains everywhere around you which somehow don't translate themselves onto film at all well - here is one of my best attempts:

The captain of the boat gives a bit of a commentary as we go; luckily, he has an incredibly dry wit and so it's all very interesting. He takes pleasure in taking the boat as close to the biggest waterfall as he possibly can, spraying, even soaking most of us who were brave enough to stay on the outside decks. Not recommended for winter, but a surprising thrill on this more sunny day. Finally we arrive back on shore. What to do now?

Well, climb a mountain, of course! The Routeburn Track, widely recognised as one of the Great Walks of New Zealand starts only ten minutes down the road from Gunn's. Although if you want to do the whole thing it takes several days and a bit of money for lodging in the huts, the first couple of hours take you up to Key Summit and to an amazing view. While the track was lovely, walking up throught the forest, once you get past the treeline it's just - WOW. And then once you reach the top, well, I could have sat there forever, gazing at everything around me. Definitely the highlight of the trip. I wouldn't say it was an easy walk for me, but all that just fell away once you reached the top, to views like these:

Eventually it was time to come down, and go back to Gunn's. The next morning, sadly, we had to go, but on the way out we were treated to Fiordland in cloud, a mysterious experience that we had so far missed.
Onwards to Wanaka...

escape!

Went away, took far too many photos, can't bear to share too few - so, over the next few days, I will be sharing parts of my latest wonderful adventure away! Hopefully you can bear with it.

Basically, I have just had a wonderful holiday between the end of my summer job and the start of my Masters. Very much needed, very much appreciated, and it almost didn't happen due to money issues. Thank goodness and my father, it did happen! My friend Katie and I managed to cram a heck of a lot into five nights, and here are the first two: Central Otago. In the middle of the south of the South Island, this is the area that is generally the hottest place in New Zealand in summer and the coldest in winter. Luckily for us, it was cloudy most of the time we were there and didn't get the hellish heat they had a few days before, up to 40 degrees celsius (or about 105 fahrenheit).

My sister happens to own a section in Oturehua, a tiny little place in Central Otago with a pub, a store, and not much else, and on this section sits their caravan. We stayed in the caravan for two nights, and explored this part of NZ.

One of the cool things about Central is the history. This is where gold was discovered in the nineteenth century, and miners flocked from around the world to make their fortunes. So wherever you go, you can easily come across ruined huts like the one above, standing on the side of the road and looking very picturesque. We wanted to go to a place called Bendigo which is full of them, but didn't have the time, unfortunately.

This is sweet little St Bathans, which overlooks a striking Blue Lake with white cliffs that were created by miners sluicing it. The little town itself is full of old character buildings, and if it is a little gimmicky/touristy I can't say I minded.

On our second day in Central, we biked part of the Otago Central Rail Trail, from Auripo Station to Omakau. That was about 17km of a 150km bike track which is becoming more and more of a must-do for tourists and also Kiwis, and definitely my highlight of the area. My favourite part was around the Poolburn Viaduct, where you cross a scary, clattering, tall bridge, and then bike through a few old rail tunnels. As you can see in the photo above, it's striking, rocky scenery, and a lot of fun.

After getting to Omakau, we had lunch, and then Katie, who is basically an ironman, sped all the way back to Auripo, while I explored the pretty little cemetery nearby.

Later that afternoon, we drove up to see the Poolburn Reservoir. For some reason I've wanted to see this for a while - it's a Lord of the Rings location, if you remember the village of Rohan, which the Orcs attack in The Two Towers, and a mother sends her two kids away on a horse to escape to Edoras. The drive up there (below) along a gravel road was amazing - rock formations rising up everywhere; angry, atmospheric looking clouds.

Poolburn Reservoir was rather nice itself, although it was a murky day, with its cute little cottages nestled among the rocks (below), but we had a rather strange experience there. I have never felt more like a city girl. Or maybe like a cast member of Lord of the Flies.

We wandered out of the car and away down to the waterfront, where we vaguely noticed a dad playing with his two kids. However, when we got closer, we realised they were having a mudfight, and the dad actually started egging his kids on to throw mud at us! "They look too clean; go on, go throw mud at them." The kids ran over, little monsters, and with looks of evil glee on their faces shouted in sing-song voices "Let's get them!!" while their dad split his sides laughing in the background.

Of course, we ended up speechless, with great lumps of mud stuck to us. I think the dad told us to lighten up but I have to say I think we took it pretty lightly, just walking away instead of telling him what we thought of his parenting skills. We went for a desultory walk around some of the reservoir, muttering about inbred hicks, a term I never thought I would use on someone but which had become utterly appropriate. What a bizarre experience.

Luckily the beautiful drive back to the main road calmed us down, and we went into Ranfurly, a small town, paid to have showers at the local motor camp, and got ourselves dinner at the tavern. By now it has become one of those weird experiences it's sort of fun to talk about but I would love to see how those kids turn out one day.

The next morning it was time to leave Central Otago, and it was on a happy note that we left - Central is a legendary place for stone fruit and cherries, and on the way out, we stopped in Cromwell, and picked up bags of ripe, juicy apricots and nectarines, which truly must be the food of the gods. I only wish we had bought more, we must have consumed them in about three hours flat.

Onwards to Fiordland and Milford Sound - but that's for tomorrow's blog post.

the holiday

How was your Christmas?

Mine involved:

1) Driving down to Dunedin, the city where two of my sisters live. Two more of us travelled there, as well as my father. On the way down my brother-in-law and I stopped at Moeraki Boulders and I surreptitiously took this photo which I think is quite sweet:


2) Playing with two very cute additions to the family. My five-month-old nephew below:

And Oscar, the new puppy who lives in the house I was staying in. He's a Jack Frost, a cross between a bichon frise and a Jack Russell. He hasn't quite learnt not to nip people yet, but he's so cute that it's easy to forgive him.

3) Playing with new toys. The niece and nephew pictured below, and their brother, received this trampoline for Christmas, which, as you can see, they are enjoying a lot. In fact, I enjoyed it too.

4) Dressing up warm for the Dunedin "summer". Once again, I completely overestimated Dunedin's weather, and brought with me lots of t-shirts and shorts, and only one pair of jeans and a jersey. But actually it's almost pleasant having to snuggle up warm for Christmas - this coming from someone who has always had summer Christmases.

I am disillusioned with New Zealand politics

After the result of the US elections yesterday, the upcoming New Zealand election on Saturday just seems so unexciting.

As a columnist in the local newspaper, Rosemary McLeod, wrote in The Press today:

"I'll be voting without passion on Saturday. ... What would it take to make me think highly of politics? Some real idealism would be a start. I'd like to hear from politicians who looked to principle before pragmatism; who believed in something they could put a name to other than self interest, power for power's sake, waffly generalities that could mean anything, demonising other sections of society, or scaremongering. ... they wouldn't focus on punishing vile wrongdoers at the expense of elevating the unfortunate. They wouldn't talk about family as if they had a monopoly on the subject, or as if family could only mean one thing, or indulge in doom-saying and breast-beating about the state of the planet as if it was dead already. They'd believe so strongly in equality of opportunity and access to help for everyone that they'd make it happen. Idealism is great. ...
We are a weird little country, and getting weirder. Our politics are not uplifting. We know everyone, the bullies and the swots, the prefects and the ratbags who smoke dak in the toilets. And this time next week there'll be a bunch of new entrants. Maybe there'll be a future leader among them. Maybe the country will become a better place for their arrival. Maybe a lot of things, but mostly, I reckon, maybe not."

Having just come home from the central city, where I came across several parties doing their thing in Cathedral Square, including John Key, leader of the National Party, leader of the Opposition, who is probably going to become Prime Minister on Saturday - I CONCUR.

Labour Party supporters, wearing red t-shirts, trying to shout down the National supporters. They soon become very, very tiresome. I say to one of them - "you know, I hate National too, but you're actually making me hate National less." She looks a bit embarrassed and promises they won't shout when John Key speaks - a promise that is not kept.

John Key arrives, an hour late. He walks straight to the media, and starts shouting into the microphone about how America has voted in change, and New Zealand will vote for change too on Saturday. It's rather ironic considering Key has much more in common with McCain than Obama. He insults Labour, thanks his supporters - a crowd of business suits - and then it's all over.
Uh-uh, John. I didn't wait in the rain for an hour to hear you tell me you are going to win and that's all there is to it. I wanted to be persuaded, to be convinced, and you didn't deliver.

The two major parties of New Zealand are disappointing. I will vote on Saturday, but as Rosemary McLeod wrote, I'm not voting with any enthusiasm. I will be disappointed if the wrong people win, but I won't feel like it's the end of the world.

Surprisingly, as I stand listening to the Green Party - the party of environmental concern, legalisation of marijuana, and social engineering of whom I am usually very suspicious - I am nothing but impressed. Their leaders are there, available. They point out errors in the political practice of other parties, but without malice. They hand the microphone around the crowd, and answer any questions that are put to them, respectfully and sensibly. Above all, they are dignified, idealistic, articulate and passionate. Although I don't agree with everything they stand for, they have made me wonder if perhaps I would rather have people in power, or influencing power in a coalition government, who care more passionately about the future and people of this country than in scoring points off the other parties.

Well, I don't know. I'll be thinking a lot about it over the next two days. Who knows? I may completely shock myself and vote Green.

wanderings

It was only two nights - but I escaped the city! I'm back now from holiday and am about to describe it. My friend J. and I left Christchurch early-ish on Thursday morning and drove to Tekapo, where we were staying in this little cabin on the lakefront:

Lake Tekapo is home to the tiny and beautiful Church of the Good Shepherd. The lake was formed by a glacier so is a beautiful, almost turquoise colour, with mountains framing it.

The weather was good on Thursday, so we took the opportunity to go to Mount Cook National Park, leaving Tekapo almost as soon as we arrived. Mount Cook, the highest mountain in the southern hemisphere, is about an hour and a half's drive from Tekapo, and is best seen when not covered in cloud, so if possible, good weather is a big plus when visiting. On the way to Mount Cook you drive past and around Lake Pukaki, another glacier lake with even a more brilliant blue than Tekapo, and surrounded by bigger mountains and forests. This photo was taken on the day we drove to Mount Cook:

And this was taken the next day, when we drove past the lake again on our way to somewhere else. It seemed like every time we saw the lake it had changed colour slightly.

Although the weather was amazing for most of the drive, Mount Cook National Park was a bit more blustery. We went up the Hooker Valley track anyway. I love this country; it's rocky and big and dramatic. This is me at one point on it:

The swingbridge! This is always fun but I promise it is even more of an experience when the wind is strong and gusty. It hangs maybe 33 feet above the Mueller glacier river, which was crashing away below as we crossed:

Unfortunately we didn't get quite as far up the Hooker Valley as I would have liked, partly because of the worsening weather, so we didn't quite get around the corner that gives you a sudden view of Mt Cook - but it was enough to be there in the mountains in the fresh air with absolutely no control over your hairstyle.

Driving between different spots we stopped often and took lots of photos. This is the entrance to the Irishman Creek sheep station which may give Stacy a sense of déjà vu - a photo I took of this hut years ago was one of our Halfway Down the Stairs covers:

I also loved these fields... although not so much the reminder that the election is coming!

On Friday we visited the Clay Cliffs, near Omarama. The nice thing about this: it's on private property, accessed by a gravel road, so it's not quite so popular a destination as the Church of the Good Shepherd and other spots in the Mackenzie Country, and you're not always competing with busloads of tourists for photos (for, as we all know, I have a right to be taking photos but no one else does!). They're rather different from the standard diet of lakes and mountains when travelling in this area and it feels a little like you're walking into a mini-canyon:

On our way back from the Clay Cliffs, we took a turn-off to Lake Ohau. This is another spot that isn't quite so busy, tourist-wise, and I can't quite understand why, because it's beautiful. Maybe it's partly that we weren't expecting something quite so stunning, but we ended up sitting on the beach at Ohau for about an hour, enjoying the wind, the waves, the mountains. I realise that some of these lakes don't look all that different in the photos but this certainly felt different:

So those are the different places we visited. We also did a fair bit of reading or just relaxing on the Tekapo lakefront. One of the cool things about the place we stayed is the incredibly friendly wildlife. There were several families of bunnies that hung out fearlessly by our cabin, and some very fat and well-fed sparrows that would hop almost right up to you in the hope of food. We ate out... the first night at Pepe's, one of my favourite pizza/pasta restaurants, and the second at a Japanese restaurant, where I had delicious local salmon (there are salmon farms in the canals around this area). On Saturday we left pretty early, because I started my new summer job in the evening, and there was really nothing we wanted to do that would fit in before we had to leave. But I could happily and easily have spent a week there. I've started having fantasies about going and living in a tiny country house overlooking a lake with a big window and a desk, and just sitting there and writing books. Of course, in this dreamworld there's no such thing as money!

for your information

Suddenly my blog is a symphony in ... brown. I would never have thought it.

Anyway, this is just to let you know that, having asked your opinions a couple of weeks ago, I am going away on holiday tomorrow with a friend of mine to the Mackenzie Country. We'll be staying at Lake Tekapo for two nights and hopefully going to Mount Cook for a daytrip - if the weather behaves, fingers crossed. It's my 22nd birthday tomorrow so it feels like a fantastic birthday present! I'll probably thrust on the blogosphere a very long-winded and photo-filled blog post on my return.

who am I?

Now, a title like that can't be encouraging if you're looking for a breezy, lighthearted blog post. Rest assured I'm not going down an existential path here... more a geographic one.

As I said several posts before, I've been craving the mountains. Specifically, New Zealand mountains. I couldn't stop thinking about them while I was away from New Zealand last year; sometimes I felt like being away from things that felt the same way as those mountains made it harder and harder for me to do the ordinary things like breathe... Sounds dramatic when I write it like that! As beautiful as Australia is, and as good a time as I had there, it is just so completely different to this country. I felt oppressed by the heat, by the redness, by the smallness. That doesn't make a lot of sense because Australia is vast and empty whereas New Zealand is small and a lot of Australians feel quite claustrophobic here, apparently. But being in Australia felt, for me, like everything was on a tiny scale, vertically. You could drive for hours without approaching any sort of gradient.

Anyway, this is a tangent. What I mean to say is that I know I am a New Zealander because of this, my love for the land and the seas of New Zealand that make me miss them desperately whenever I'm away for long. At risk of going overboard, I feel a connection to the environment around me. And also to the people - I feel I belong with them and I understand them, even if I don't always get along with them. We are all equal.

I think this is quite recent among New Zealanders. Not that long ago - one or two generations - Pakeha* New Zealanders still talked about Britain as Home, and felt completely out of place in New Zealand. One of my favourite poets, Allen Curnow, wrote in the 1930s a poem that expressed this, ending with the couplet:
"Not I, some child, born in a marvellous year,
Will learn the trick of standing upright here."

In a detective novel I've been reading, written by New Zealand's Ngaio Marsh in 1943, this is expressed as well, in a suspicion of the natural environment.
The main character is looking at a poster of the English Cotswolds.
"It made Dikon, the New Zealander, ache for England. By shifting his gaze slightly, he saw, framed in the sitting-room window, a landscape aloof from man. Its beauty was perfectly articulate yet utterly remote. Against his will he was moved by it as an unmusical listener may be profoundly disturbed by sound forms that he is unable to comprehend. He had travelled a great deal in his eight years' absence from New Zealand and had seen places famous for their antiquities, but it seemed to him that the landscape he now watched through the Claires' window was of an early age far more remote than any of these. It did not carry the scars of lost civilisation. Rather, it seemed to make nothing of time, for it was still primeval and its only stigmata were those of neolithic age. Dikon, who longed to be in London, recognised in himself an affinity with this indifferent and profound country, and resented its attraction."

Well, Curnow's prediction seems to have come true. I feel able to "stand upright here", sure of myself and my surroundings, with the result that a lot of Ngaio Marsh's book just annoys me, with all of her references to the "terrible New Zealand dialect" and all the people longing for England and all of England's constraints. It's not against my will that I love the New Zealand landscape as my own landscape. There are still issues - it's difficult now to be unaware of the cost to the Maori of European settlement, and I recognise that the Maori have a claim on the land that goes deeper than the European claim. I will never be quite "indigenous".

Here comes the problem. I was talking recently to my supervisor, who is Welsh, who is extremely well-travelled, and who knows I want to see Europe someday. After asking me about my passions, which all turn out to be cultural - music, literature, drama - he said to me, "you know, you are actually a product of Europe. When you get there, you will understand what I mean." And he also said, "when you are in England or in Europe you really have a sense of walking on the bones of your ancestors."

Suddenly I'm aware of this tension. Maybe it was easier to be one of those past New Zealanders who never really settled down here, always looking back "Home", never becoming anything other than British. I am, I think, as much a New Zealander as it's possible to be, and I am part of the landscape now, but I am also drawn to Europe, to where my roots are, to the culture that has influenced me the most. And I'm not quite sure if I'll ever balance this. Maybe, after all, I haven't quite learnt the trick of standing upright here yet. If I'm here, maybe I'm not fulfilling myself in a cultural sense. If I'm away, I'll be longing to come back and be where I belong, physically and geographically.

We are still a young country, obsessed with these questions of nationhood. Maybe we all feel this tension; after all, the places we talk about as our nation's roots are on battlefields far away - Gallipoli, the Somme, North Africa, Crete, Monte Cassino... Who are we? How are we different from Europe, from America, from Australia? (Especially Australia!) Why is it that everyone else seems so secure in their nationhood and we are still confused? If anyone else can tell me exactly how long it will take, that would be great!

* Pakeha = of European descent

it's (kind of) up to you!

Today I handed in my dissertation. Ta-da!!!! :

The year is now finished for me, and I think I'm going to struggle finding things to do over the summer, having been so continuously productive and hard-working all year round. First on the list, though, is something I have been craving for months now - getting out of Christchurch.

I can't really afford this, but I'm going to do it anyway! This is my only chance before my summer job starts, and I'll only spend one night away, possibly two if I find somewhere to stay that's cheap enough.

The problem is, I can't really decide where to go. So I have a list here of several different options, all of which are close enough to Christchurch to visit without churning through ridiculous amounts of petrol. And I'd love to know your opinions on them. There are three areas I'm thinking of visiting, with several options about where to stay within these areas.

1) MACKENZIE COUNTRY.
Inland and south of Christchurch.
Mount Cook across Lake Pukaki.

Option one: Above, Mount Cook, the highest mountain in New Zealand and, I think, the southern hemisphere. If I go to the Mackenzie Country at all I'll be going here and doing one of the tracks in the national park, because I have been craving these mountains for yonks. There is also the option that I could stay here at the backpackers or at the campsite. Probably a bit more expensive, but imagine waking up and walking outside to see... that!

Option two: I could stay at Lake Tekapo. This is a peaceful, beautiful spot to stay, as long as you avoid the tourist buses passing through. It's only about ... an hour? an hour and a half? from Mount Cook so it wouldn't be a problem getting there. A bit cheaper, and it also has a FANTASTIC pizza restaurant!

2) THE WEST COAST.

The coast on the other side of the island from me! Much wetter, much wilder, and full of sandflies!

Option one: I could stay at Okarito, a tiny village on Okarito Lagoon. Classic West Coast beauty, with a gorgeous beach and a kayakable lagoon. Not too touristy. From here I could easily visit the glaciers, and it would be a little cheaper than staying right near the glaciers.

Option two: Or I could stay at the township near Franz Josef glacier, which would allow me to easily visit the glacier and also visit other spots around the southern West Coast.

Option three: Punakaiki. Famous for its "pancake rocks" and stunning coastline. Beautiful rivers, also kayakable. A little too far away from the glaciers to visit them, but that's okay, there's plenty to do around Punakaiki itself.

3) KAIKOURA

North of Christchurch, on the coast.

Kaikoura is a small town with delicious, FRESH seafood, and a thriving whale/dolphin watching industry. Some beautiful mountains are a backdrop for the town, and there's some nice walks along the coast. A little bit more expensive than the other places, probably.

So - what do you think? I'll be honest and say I'm leaning towards Mackenzie Country, simply because I've been craving the bigness and stillness of the mountains for so long now. All the same, when I look at those photos of the West Coast I start to salivate a little. And to drive to the West Coast I'd have to drive through the mountains of Arthur's Pass National Park, and so I could get my mountain-fix on the way there or back. I also salivate when I think about the fish of Kaikoura. :)

I can't promise I'll follow your advice. But I would like to know what you think!