I’m now prepared to have a different view on this.

The Sevens have got their own unique buzz that can’t be found at any other time or place. These tournaments consist of two consecutive days of around ten hours where you’re mixing with crowds of punters – in varying stages of increasing inebriation, weird and wonderful costumes, expensive food and of course, the weather – be it rain, hail or sunshine. And to add to the pleasure, you spend hours each day moulding your bum into a numb moon-shaped human frisbee from those hard, unforgiving plastic seats.

I’d thought for many years that I’d like to do the Wellington Sevens tournament in early February. But I was never seriously tempted to pay the “through the roof” price that scammers were asking for tickets.

When I saw the venue was changing to Hamilton I sounded Teddy out to see if he wanted to go. Of course, a ridiculous question for sure. Anything “rugby” and he’s a sure starter.

So, finally we had the “Sevens” in our sights. 

It was a no-brainer to buy tickets and book some accommodation early in the piece.

So, it was then that Saturday morning, 3rd February finally arrived. Hamilton, here we come!

The streets surrounding the stadium were pulsing with people heading to the stadium: White-haired wizards, tacky sailors, faux Hawaiian dancers, French street vendors and pot-bellied ballet dancers in gasping tutus.

There was no doubt that the culture of the sevens had transferred well to Hamilton.

Before we even reached the stadium, we were wide-eyed at some of the punters weird and whacky costume choices. Our weekend neighbours at the motel were well prepared for their version of fun.

We never gave any thought to costumes for ourselves as Teddy is always, and without fail, a dedicated All Black supporter so anything that would detract from his Kiwi loyalty would be out of the question.

We didn’t know what the weather would do on the day. Both rain and sun would become very uncomfortable if we didn’t get our gear right. The thought of sweltering in some full body costume didn’t appeal at all. Nor did I want to feel the chill in something flimsy if the weather turned to custard.

I’m stoked that we’ll have a better handle on the “what to wear” conundrum next time!

As the games got underway, we were entertained with a festival of great rugby, continuous music at every “whistle blow”, and an inspiring assortment of entertainment at various times throughout the day. And the weather held up a treat.

There’s always some things that stand out in your mind. Some are opportunities for a good laugh, others can give you goose bumps and it was a music interlude that did that for me.

Poi-E

At every break in play, music booms out across the stadium. And the music choices are extensive and range from one end of the music spectrum to the other.

The one tune that sent tingles down my spine was the famous kiwi hit  Poi-E by the Patea Maori Club.  It’s always a fantastic way to involve the public in the mood of the surroundings, however this song always seems to stir up a healthy dose local patriotism. 

Another thing that tickled my fancy was to see how much Teddy was enjoying the music. He even enjoyed it enough to start knocking out a few moves to “Twist and Shout”.

Teams’ Lap of Honour

Teams progress through the “round robin” to find their position in the play-offs. Top qualifiers progress to the Cup play-offs and the rest are sectioned into the Plate, Bowl or Shield play-offs dependent on what each tournament has on offer. Once a country’s team is finally eliminated from the tournament, they wander around the field perimeter waving to the crowd in their own lap of honor.  During these walk arounds (which incidentally were not mandatory), I was heartened by the support the New Zealand crowd gave to these international teams.  I felt proud as the crowd applauded the players as they stopped for selfies, signed kids tee shirts, flags or anything else that would serve as a cherished piece of memorabilia.

Win for Fiji Team

A win for New Zealand is always the end goal but sometimes it doesn’t happen as we’d like. This was one of the times that the win got away from us. But if I had to pick another team to win, it had to be Fiji. Having lived in Suva for over two years, I know how much Rugby means to the Fijians. The fact that the crowd had as many Fijian supporters as Kiwis, I still felt it was a bit of a home grown win anyway.

…and there is Huntly

Exhaustion wasn’t really on the menu, but we were a couple of tired old buggars by the time the weekend was over. In fact, I didn’t see daylight until 9 o’clock on Monday morning. 

As we’d intended getting away early on the homeward trek, Teddy had already sorted his weetbix, toast and coffee, (standard breakfast for the best part of fifty odd years). All I wanted was a flat white so figured I’d pick one up on the way home. We’d got as far as Huntly before I spotted a roadside coffee truck and not only was the coffee a delight. We were parked on the banks of the Waikato River, just opposite the Huntly Power Station. I realized that the view from the car window was a scene for a “must have” photo. 

Let me know if you agree.

Our next trip is to the Hong Kong Sevens next month. We are well into the planning and I look forward to sharing a few photos along the way.

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Some people have “firsts” of a magnitude that Teddy and I could never achieve (and frankly, nor would we want to), such as climbing to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, or maybe something slightly more subdued yet achievable, like a ‘stroll’ along the Great Wall of China or arching to kiss the Blarney Stone in Ireland.

Our “firsts” are unlikely to appear in any famous bucket lists, but for Teddy, whose life is a chronicle of well-photographed milestones, our journey will become etched into his memory. 

 So, as we start out braving the 30^o plus temperatures here is our list of Perth “firsts”:

1:  The Big Dry in 36^o Temperatures

 Our first and lasting impression of Perth was the parched landscape.

Not only was the air dry, but so was everything that I associate with the colour green. Brown wisps of vegetation marched like grass imposters across the lawns, verges lay unkempt and vast parklands find little relief from the fringes of protecting gum trees.

And I wept for the trees as their skeletal branches hung lifeless, their tiny parchment-like leaves wilting in the blazing sun.

And then there was sand. Lots of sand. In fact, the city of Perth was built on sand. My idea of sand is that castle-building stuff on the beach that burns your feet and finds its way into every crevice of your body.

In contrast, I am used to the ground in my back-yard resembling concrete. In the Auckland summer at least. Not that it’s rock-like at all, it is just dense dry clay that takes more than an ounce or two of effort to break through when I get the tree-planting urge.

But not in Perth. Sand is everywhere. Walking along a footpath, it’s easy to spot the sand blown from the parks and lawns as it forms a grainy layer across the concrete.

It had never occurred to me why Perth lawns consist of overgrown wiry grass. It’s because of the sand and it’s the wiry grass that helps to anchor it down.  Apparently, Perthites (or is that Perthinians) leave their lawn grasses long when they cut them. If they don’t, the sun burns away everything that’s left and it turns a lawn into a desert before your eyes.

Long live Auckland with its lush green berms and the ongoing battle with the Council’s “berm control”.

2:  “I get off on a 57 Chevy” (Eric Clapton)

 Eric Clapton certainly knew what he liked when he sang this song.

We had a blast from the past as we cruised the highways of Perth in an old ’57 Chevy!

On our first full day in Perth, our host and son-in-law chauffeured us through the city streets to Fremantle in his pride and joy: A purple 1957 Chevrolet (pillarless) BelAire Coupe.

Not only does it have more grunt than a yard full of pigs but you get the feeling you need your own servo hooked up just to keep feeding engine.

Teddy and I felt like a couple of 60’s hippies, waving to motorists and pedestrians who’d toot or wave their appreciation of the shiny beast.

Climbing in and out of the rear seat was a bit of a mission. But once we mastered the ‘slither and slide technique’, it was a breeze!

So, there we were; windows down, elbows on the chrome, the wind in our hair as we roared off into the distance.

Achievement: One sun-tanned arm from resting it on the sill and the other, a gentle shade of kiwi-white. 

3:  A Quick Stop in Old Fremantle

The port city of Fremantle is an area that was due much more of our time to go exploring. Sadly, for us to spend any length of time out in the open, we’d have required a tad more ‘kiwified’ temperatures.

But we did get a sneak peek as we drove through the older part of the city. From what we could see, it’s obvious that Fremantle has been around a lot longer than the modern centre of Perth City.

The streets tempted and beckoned with their abundance of old buildings to explore. And a number of self-walk Heritage Trails weave through this historic area. These range from the 4.76 km Freo’s Street Art Tail to the 3.48 km Fremantle Vintage Shopping Trail. Also included is the 5.72km Heritage Highlight Trail.

But in 33^oC temperatures and rising, we weren’t tempted to return later in the week to pound the hot pavements. At least another week of acclimatizing would have been a must to avoid behaving like a sloth on steroids getting from one end of a trail to the other.

4:  Our Touch of the Indian Ocean

“Our memories of the ocean will linger on, long after our footprints in the sand are gone” Anonymous

My daughter’s experience of a few years ago, convinced me to walk in her shadow. But only for this one time.

On her first visit to Perth, she photographed her feet as she stood in the waters of the Indian Ocean for the first time. Now, I had to do the same thing, didn’t I?

Well of course I did. And I did, with Teddy by my side we stood in the water at the edge of the Indian Ocean and gazed out to the horizon. I said to Teddy, if we left the land and just kept heading west, the next stop would be Africa.

Well, you don’t say that to a ‘geography genius’ without a comeback. “Nope, we’d hit Madagascar first,” he reminded me. Silly me! I knew that!!

5:  The Weekend, and It’s Markets Time!

Almost everywhere you look in Fremantle you are reminded of its rich maritime history, its Victorian architecture and the old buildings that provide a glimpse of its British Penal Colony background. And its location at the mouth of the Swan River, made it a perfect settlement place for the Swan River Colonists in 1829. 

But, for Teddy and me on a hot Sunday afternoon, it was more about the Weekend Markets. And we couldn’t leave until we’d at least had a wander around a couple of these and satisfied another “first”. 

Our first stop was the  E Shed Markets which can be found on Victoria Quay.

The original large timber-framed building served the Port of Fremantle for more than 100 years as a cargo handling facility. In 1966, it was dismantled and relocated from its wharf-side location to where it now rests.

As a marketplace, the variety and origin of the souvenirs, bric a brac and food outlets were as you’d expect from any weekend market. Stallholders touting their wares, showed off their “best” and “cheapest” while trying to extract every last dollar from the unconvinced tourists. Shelves were crammed with fake souvenirs of everything Australian. Stuffed koalas and kangaroos, wallabies and wombats. And green and gold tee shirts were everywhere.

I did try to convince Teddy that he should buy a replica Wallabies jersey but his response was a resounding “Nooooooo”. I couldn’t even encourage him to wear the Aussie favorite, an Akubra hat.

While we were enjoying the air-conditioned cool of the hall, we thought we’d stop for a snack. And although the food hall’s dining offering was basically standard fare, Teddy was able to track down some food he’d eat. Crispy golden fries, baked potato and pumpkin, staples of his diet, were readily available.

The pursuit of finding any food he’ll eat is always a challenge so when it’s there, you grab it when you can.

But as we left the markets, I was overcome by a cloak of sadness. The giant hall was dotted with gaping black spaces, shops whose owners had closed up and gone. Whole areas were cordoned off from the public and were perhaps an indicator that the E Shed Markets are fighting a losing battle with the more popular Fremantle Markets.  

I did find the Fremantle Markets had a more vibrant hum.

Along a tree-sheltered laneway I spotted a lone busker singing country, playing magic on his guitar as he closed out the world around him. Diners paid him little heed, and continued with their social interludes.

It would have been relaxing to sit and people-watch for an hour or so, but my tender gurgling tummy was telling me it was time to head homeward.

Maybe we’ll return another time. And just maybe in the winter. 

 6:  Kings Park / Botanic Gardens

I always relish the idea of wandering around a beautiful garden. 

We had the opportunity to do just that on our visit to Kings Park and Botanic Gardens overlooking the City of Perth.

The first thing that caught my attention was the hill. Perth is so flat and suddenly out of nowhere, there was this hill that rose up beside the city. It’s called Mt Eliza but at its highest point it only rises up to just over 60 meters above sea level. So it really isn’t a mountain as such.

The road to the top is a gentle tree-lined ascent to the ample parking area which even on a week day, was about half full. And once again the heat is there to greet you.

The mercury had already reached 36^oC so we were quick to find the grassed areas and shelter under the large trees and gazebos. These were strategically located to provide some much needed respite. 

The many gardens were well maintained and the grasslands lay lush and green (obviously well-watered); and all offering an extensive selection of Australia’s native flora.

The park itself covers an area in excess of 400 hectares, with about one third of that developed into grassland, walkways and gardens. The remaining 270 odd hectares is mostly covered in natural vegetation which is home to a reported 450 species of native plants and around 80 species of birdlife.

To be able to drive around and take in a typical Australian landscape within the city’s boundaries was a treat.

The other thing that fascinated me about this park was the vantage point that it offered to gain a true perspective of the city and the geography of the Western Australian coast. The expansive view from the winding pathways looked down on the inner city, across the Swan River and out to the hills in the East.

From this vantage point was easy to see why the city itself stretches forever along the coastline and can take a couple of hours to drive from one end to the other.

I began to daydream as I thought about the size of the country and could see a narrow ribbon of civilization clinging to the coastline by its fingertips. The city appeared to be crawling out of the ocean and clamoring up towards the plateau in the East.

But that final step was just a tad bigger than anticipated so civilization decided to take a small break until it had the strength to pull itself up over the top and continue its easterly spread. But I guess that last step was just too great so the city has lain in repose where it rested.

And that’s not such a bad thing. The city is unique, it is hot, it is beautiful. And Kings Park and Botanic Gardens offer up the most amazing views from which to dream your own fanciful ideas of the city’s growth and development.

7:  Fusion Festival

We didn’t have to venture far from home to visit the Fusion Festival (food and culture) in Beckenham on a Friday evening. More than a dozen performers and cultural groups, danced, sang and played in whatever style was their forte. And I was even entertained by a Perth based Maori cultural group, Manawa Mai Tawhiti  (“Yearning from afar”). 

Teddy and I posed for a pic with Surya, (Goddess of fire, warmth, light, sunshine and summer), and I would have to say she provided all of those in spades on that occasion.

The festival has been held in Langford Oval for the last 16 years but the organizers decided to change venue to cater for the ever-increasing crowds.

But I think they forgot to tell the food stall holders!

The catering extended to over 30 food trucks, but unless you were there extremely early, or were prepared to queue for a good 45 minutes or more, you went hungry.

I chose to queue for some traditional food of the Iberian Peninsula and was well-rewarded with some genuine Valencian Chicken and Chorizo Paella. And of course, Teddy managed to buy some chips.

But sadly, by the time many people reached the front of the queue, the food had run out. 

Half of our party went home hungry but my daughter decided on KFC to quell her hunger. I trust the organizers will get it right next year!

And now for a couple of Jaw Droppers.

My Biggest Gripe:  The Supermarket Trolley

Australian supermarket trollies have a mind of their own. In Kiwiland, the rear wheels on our trollies are fixed. Not so in Australia. Pushing a trolley down a supermarket aisle is like walking a horse on an ice rink. Each wheel is independent of all the others and in my effort to control the darned thing, I kicked the wheel with my jandal-uncovered toes. A big purple and painful OUCH!

My Biggest Head Shaker:  Fish & Chips… and Gravy!

I’m not sure if it is an Aussie thing or it’s just that tomato sauce hasn’t yet reached Western Australia. But everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE, people are eating good ol’ Fish & Chips covered in Gravy. One vendor was extremely upset because I wouldn’t try his gravy. Maybe, just maybe, their fish isn’t as good as ours and they feel the need to disguise it with gravy!!

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Cheers,

Teddy & June

Rain on the plane’s windows speckled the view of Nelson’s water-soaked tarmac. But Nelson is supposed to be sunny, I hear you say. Doesn’t it have the highest number of sunshine hours per year across New Zealand?  That maybe so, but that’s not the welcome that greeted Teddy & Me today. Our plane was forced to circle for a few minutes while the a backlog of flights negotiated the misty conditions. We touched down with no drama and only a few minutes later than scheduled. And the rain persisted. 

But it’s only water. And water will dampen the air but it takes more than a few raindrops to dampen our spirits. We didn’t come all the way from Auckland for the rugby just to be wussy about the weather. On the other hand however, I was still a tad tentative about my decision to book a B&B for our two-day stay.

Collingwood Manor – A Grand Old Lady

I discovered this B&B by accident as I was looking to book some weekend accommodation. We wanted something close to Nelson’s Trafalgar Park as that’s where the rugby was to be played. Collingwood Manor was the closest to the Park that offered excellent overnight rates. But I’d never stayed in a B&B before and I had no idea what to expect.

I’d booked a twin room, (which is usual when Teddy and I travel) but when the hosts were forced to juggle the rooms prior to our arrival, we were upgraded to a king-sized room each. I guess the other guests had a greater need for the twin room than we did. I mean, who objects to an upgrade? Not us that’s for sure.

But we still had no idea what would greet us on our arrival.

As we pulled into the driveway, I was entranced by the grand stature of a century old villa.

I sensed a journey to another time, but my t/shirt and cord jeans were no substitute for the flowing dresses that would have once adorned the veranda ahead. Its grandeur demanded my brief acknowledgment to the history and stories that lay within the sturdy walls.

I felt like an intruder as I approached the large wooden door that greeted me. We were met by Jules, the lady half of the hosting couple who ushered us inside. I’m sure I could hear the whispering walls unveiling their secrets as we were shown through the home and given the ancient keys to our rooms. I was surprised by the warmth exuding from every nook and cranny of the home. I could feel it wrap around and protect me from the cold chill of the flash-back winter outside.

Old and Traditional meets New and Quirky

Our rooms were a homely blend of old and new. Heat pumps in each room had replaced crackling wood fires, but it didn’t detract from the olde charm. The modern touches throughout the establishment melded well with the solid wooden archways, high ceilings, dado strips and stained glass windows gazing out onto the verandah. The ensuites in every room proudly displayed their old kauri floors and old style plumbing fixtures. It was perfect. The large sash windows framed the garden scenery beyond, but in the evening, modern roller blinds blocked out any intruding night. Their subtlety in no way detracted from the early twentieth century ambiance in the rooms. The guests dining come family room sat radiantly at the front of the home. With its bay window and stained glass panels above, I was reminded of scenes from early movies where the family would gather around the fireplace and tell stories recounting their adventures of the day.

Art and Artisans

Nelson is a city rich in the arts, and Ray & Jules have adorned so much of this home with local treasures. Ray’s insights into some of the pieces in the home is fascinating. Paintings and prints, ornaments and figurines, glassware and pottery. My head was filled with the visions of many artisans, toiling over their lathes, easels, and pottery wheels. And evidence of his search for the home’s history hangs in the grand entrance hallway where framed newspaper articles show details dating back to the late 19th Century when the home was built. 

Snuggle Down in Modern Comfort 

In the bedrooms, a modern stand-alone wardrobe provides a hanging place for clothes but lying on their tops sit old battered suitcases with stories they could tell from times long passed. Each room was like a history lesson but without the head ma’am at the front of the room. At each turn I could take myself back to earlier generations and wonder at their daily lives. I didn’t get to sit on the enveloping verandah as the rain and cool air persisted. But that can wait till another day when the sun will allow me to experience the delight of the home in summer.

A Bonus Find

The purpose of our journey was to attend a rugby match and the park was just a five minute walk away. But little did we know at the time, that enroute to the game we would be spoiled by a stroll along historic Elliott Street, a street of picket fences, fences protecting creeping wisteria, framing plots of standard roses and clumps of bright blue hydrangeas. Elliott Street is registered with the Historic Places Trust because of the row of restored century old homes standing at attention along the narrow street. Thirtyone of the homes are listed as heritage buildings. The homes have been restored to their original charm and my historic journey continued as I wandered past fences draped with clinging vines of delicate flowers in picks and whites. How beautiful this all looked and not in the least dampened by the persisting drizzle throughout the day. 

We’ll Be Back!

Our little sojourn to Nelson was a journey of discovery. Even when your rugby team loses, a warm welcome and comfortable surroundings are a great magnet to draw you back. Not only to hear Ray’s history lessons of a place that oozes its own personality but also to wander at leisure along Elliott Street on a sunny day. Will we return? Most definitely!  And the answer to the question…it’s a thumbs up for the B&B. 

(Disclosure: Several of the photographs used here, have been “borrowed” from the Collingwood Manor website. The rest I have taken myself.)

Gallery

Thanks for reading.

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Also, if you would like to keep updated on our new posts, you are most welcome to Subscribe to our mailing list.

We’d be honoured to hear from you.

Cheers,

Teddy & June