Wai-O-Tapu ... a Thermal Wonderland, New Zealand

I stepped back into life here in Belgium and, like an out-of-control magic carpet, life whooshed off with me.

Almost 3 weeks after the return, I finally created a space to go wandering through 2 complete folders from that trip through New Zealand.  There are so many more still to explore ... and process but most of the portraits are done now, with some massive ones still to do, Hunter and Clare, Peter and Christine.

Anyway, on our second day in the country, Christine and Peter took us on a North Island Roadtrip.  The image below was taken at one the ports of call on that first surreal and magical day. 

The Wai-O-Tapu thermal area covered about 18 sq.kms near Rotorua and it was area where collapsed craters, boiling mud pools and steaming fumaroles were the norm. 

They told us that the area is associated with volcanic activity that happened about 160,000 years ago and that beneath us was a system of streams heated by magma from earlier eruptions ... water temperatures of up to 300 celsius have been recorded.

Stunning isn't it ...

Winter in Antwerp ...

It has been difficult to return to this European winter ... return from swimming and wading at various beaches all over New Zealand.  Difficult to return from a country where you squint in the sun  ... to a country where the sun makes an occasional appearance.

Difficult ... yes.  Very.

But I filled my life with projects, as is my way.  And they're all EXCITING.

And there are lots of projects because other people are so interesting however ... there's only one of me and this attempt to not miss New Zealand has become a nightmare of a workload. 

I have 5 major projects.  These last two days have been spent, head-in-hands oftentimes, as I recognise that I might have over-committed myself, in ways that I seem to specialise in.

Each project is brilliant.  Some have been underway for a while.  Some involve 1,000s of photographs I have yet to process.  Others are future plans that excite the hell out of me.

Anyway, here's a glimpse from the other day when I wandered into the city in search of boots for the snow.  I found these boots and they were cheaper than the price listed here ... half price in fact. 

And the guy that sold them to me was the nicest guy.  We chatted about the countries we come from while I shopped for my boots.  A huge thank you has to go to him because shopping in Antwerp isn't always fun and the people aren't always friendly.  When I find the receipt, I'll come back and tell you which shop I bought them in ... so you can pop in too.

I miss my morning walks in New Zealand

Outside, there was that predawn kind of clarity, where the momentum of living has not quite captured the day. The air was not filled with conversation or thought bubbles or laughter or sidelong glances. Everyone was sleeping, all of their ideas and hopes and hidden agendas entangled in the dream world, leaving this world clear and crisp and cold as a bottle of milk in the fridge.

Reif Larsen, from The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet.

Meanwhile, I'm playing this song on repeat and up loud as I work here this morning. 

And before I forget, I found the opening quote over on the marvellous Terri Windling's blog.

A glimpse from one of those early morning walks I took, back home in New Zealand ... Cooks Beach, on the Coromandel Peninsula ... sunrise.


And so it is ...

Snow has arrived here in Antwerp.

It's cold, damn cold.  I woke at 3am and padded through the house, trying to work out if I could turn the heating up.  It goes way down at night. It was 14 celsius inside ... it didn't feel quite right. 

It's snowing again as I write this meanwhile a tram derailed over on the Leftbank here and it's a little messy when it comes to getting past Central Station on Tram 5.  But I need more Nespresso coffee capsules, just till a delivery can be made.

Sigh.  I'm going to get snowed on. 

In good news, my voice recorder arrived in the mail today.  Interviews can happen again.  I lost mine in New Zealand and was so sad.  I am so careful with my equipment, so very careful usually.

Anyway ... outside just now.

Back in a New Zealand Summer

Sitting here, having just completed 100-shot photo-shoot, a hotwater bottle on my aching back, Miss 8 downstairs with that horrible flu/cold that's going around, waiting for the predicted snow to arrive on a zero celsius day ... I find myself missing those sublime days, back in New Zealand, on that roadtrip in the little red car.

I miss pies too.

 

'Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas any more'.

We're just in from a weekend spent in Wallonia, where the temperature dropped to below zero celsius and snow fell.  And we gathered around a huge fire in a big old house and spent our time talking with good friends.

Actually, my heart has been warmed as friends have welcomed us back to Belgium after weeks spent wandering in that New Zealand summer.

Wednesday found me out with Jurjana, my truly delicious Croatian friend here in Antwerp.  She drove me to her favourite restaurant and we enjoyed a lovely lunch and catch-up session at Patrasche, in Hoboken. 

Thursday and Stephanie, an English friend, came over for dinner with her daughter.  Another few hours spent talking and listening.

Friday and it was Lucy, Fiona, and Ruth.  My lovely Irish and Belgian friends.  We began as an informal Nederlands class but they have become such good friends that there was something of a 'coming home' feeling as I arrived at Fiona's house.  Actually, we don't really speak in Nederlands anymore .... but, by crikey, we always have a most excellent time when we get together.

And this weekend was the icing on the cake.  We wandered over to the New Zealand/Belgian/American household, over there on the other side of Belgium, and the snow fell and our wandering souls were surely warmed.

We're back in Belgium where its winter.

On Returning to Belgium ...

People keep asking me how the return to Belgium is going ... what can I say?

We have been pleasantly surprised by the 9 celsius temperatures we've had since returning but the grey grey days are testing me.  It's winter, I know, but Belgium does grey in a way that is unlike any other place I have known.  My tan will surely be leached out of me ... perhaps within days.

I miss New Zealand food.  I went to a Delhaize supermarket yesterday and came away sad over not finding anything nice, then realised I was searching for New Zealand food.  Just that.  Nothing else would do.

We are still tired after 60 hours mostly awake as we crossed the world, and in crazy-making ways.  Yesterday we set up my work station here at the desk and later, as we failed in so many ways at the supermarket, we realised that we had potentially used up our daily quota of intelligence on the work station.  The intricacies of supermarket shopping were all but beyond us.

Last night, coming home from a new year party, Gert kept nodding off on the tram.  He had to be quicker in recovering than me, as he has already had two days back at work ... but there was a price it seems.

I miss the freedom of driving long distances through beautiful scenery on almost empty roads.  I miss the little red car.  I miss mountains and rivers, endless coastlines, and the variations of forest and bush.  The smell of the air.  I miss sunshine, family and friends.  I miss a lot of things but I'm almost sure it will be okay fitting back into life here. 

I'm not going to ruin my life with all that I miss.  After all, it's as Justine Musk recently wrote, it is time for you to go on an adventure. 

Here's to some good adventures in 2013 ... for all of us.

 

Riding the Waimakariri River with Waimak Alpine Jetboat Company

My cousin Tania, and her husband Al, had gifted both Gert and I a ride on a Waimak Alpine Jetboat however Gert's inner ear problem meant that he couldn't risk coming with us.  He stayed behind on the sun-drenched bank of the Waimakariri River as photographer and sun-worshipper.

It was bliss out there in that world only accessible by boat and Greg, our driver, was simply superb.  At some point on the journey I became fascinated by his instinctive reading of the river and asked him if it was anything like riding a horse.  I was trying to get a sense of how it was to ride a river, jetboat-style.

I could see that the jetboat wasn't like a conventional boat.  It didn't have a propeller that hung down in the water, and so we were screaming over incredibly shallow areas of river at times. Not only that, we were flying past river canyon walls with very little room for error, and the 360º spins were breathtakingly excellent.

They explain on their website:  Invented in New Zealand by William Hamilton in 1954, the jet boat has an impeller [propeller] that is encased in a cylinder [stator] to protect it from hitting stones or the bed of the river. Unlike conventional propeller driven boats the jet boat's unit is above the water line enabling it to travel through extremely shallow water (3" or 75mm).

But still, there was more to it ... watching Gregwas like watching a photographer instinctively seeking light for an image.  There was what was known, the rules ... river level, weather, and the state of the bends and then there was the rest.   The instinctive knowing.

It seemed like that was the place where a 360º spin could happen, and knowing the precise moment when to head towards the rockface and miss it.  How fast that corner could be taken at.

It seemed like a cross between art and science. 

It was bliss.

There Were Days Like This Out On The Road ...

My cousin Tania owns the house I love best in the world ...

Situated near the foothills of the Southern Alps, on the edge of a sometimes mighty mountain-fed river, it is a place of beauty ... a place of peace.  I love it there.

I have memories of staying there in the past, of slipping outside and crossing the dew-covered lawn, just happy about being alive in that place.

This time the Belgian Bloke and I only managed to fit in an afternoon visit but one that involved an afternoon tea on the lawn in the shade of the trees, surrounded by the most exquisite flowers and birdsong.  Beer and lemonade were involved.  Stories were told and there was much laughter too.

Next time we'll stay longer.  We were trying to do and see everything back there in my world and there weren't enough days in those 5 weeks at home.

Next time ...

 

The Little Red Car, New Zealand

I don't think I posted photographs of the little red car that got us round New Zealand's South Island yet.  And I hope to get permission to post photographs of My Friend Fiona, the old friend with the lovely husband who found us The car.

It never missed a beat and only went faster as the journey progressed.  I loved it.  I would have bought it if I were staying in New Zealand.  Well, and if I had money.

Anyway here it is, at the start of the big journey ... down on the east coast of the South Island, in the Catlins.

Hunter and Clare Shaw's Eco Retreat, Fiordland, New Zealand

On the first night of our roadtrip round New Zealand's South Island ... otherwise known as Di's Island, we were heading for Hunter and Clare Shaw's eco retreat in Manapouri, Fiordland.

I first met Hunter and Clare when I was living in Te Anau, back in 90's, and one of my favourite life stories is about their daughter Phoebe who came home from school and told her mum about the new girl's interesting mum.  The  'favourite' part of that story is the part where she told Clare that I reminded her of Lucy Lawless ... aka Xena Warrior Princess.  Who could resist...?

And that was the beginning of the friendship.  Later, after we moved to Dunedin, Hunter used to come up to work with clients in his Hellerworks massage practice and so he would stay, bringing venison fresh from the mountains or farm.  He taught me how to cook the most divine venison steaks.

Still later and they popped in and stayed a few days with us here in Antwerp and there was always an invitation to go stay with them when I finally got home.

And so we did.

I cannot recommend booking their eco retreat highly enough.  Gert and I were stunned when we were shown the light-filled, spacious cabin where we would be spending our 2 nights in Fiordland.

It's private, it's an exquisitespace, and it felt like home.  I'm highly qualified in the field of 'feels like home' as I've been searching for places that feel like home since forever.

But here is a taste of what they offer in their words: Lake Manapouri is just 3km away, the start of your Manapouri-Doubtful Sound experience and we are well placed for trips to Milford Sound and Fiordland National Park. There are many walking tracks nearby of varying degrees of difficulty, whatever your fitness level you will find something to suit and be able to experience hiking in Fiordland from the popular tracks to those that are used by few.

Your hosts are Hunter and Claire Shaw who both have a wealth of knowledge about the local area, its history, and the flora and fauna of the surrounding park, not to mention the numerous places to visit.

Hunter is a professional guide with interpretation being his specialty and has lived in the area for over 50 years. All Hunter’s working life has been involved in the National Park - in the early years with wild deer hunting and more recently leading trips through the World Heritage forests of Fiordland.

And friendly, so friendly.  Hunter is a story-teller, a man I spent a couple of days interviewing once upon a time.  He is a book.  I didn't write it but he talks about doing it himself one day.

So ... all this to say, if you are heading to New Zealand, or if you live there, and you are thinking about visiting Fiordland, consider staying at Hunter and Clare's cabin in the woods.   You won't regret it.

One of the things I loved about New Zealand ...

I loved the friendliness of strangers back home in New Zealand.

It's like nowhere else for me.  Turkey has been a close second, then Italy but New Zealanders ... they're my people and I'm so proud of them.

It was across the board, from the supermarket workers, to the people at the cafe sitting nearby,  people on the beach, and those jetski guys, to name a few.

They came into view while we were out on the boat in Mercury Bay.  I had the long lens on and couldn't resist.  This is the last shot I took of them.  The farewell shot.  Before this, they put on quite the display, making me laugh as I attempted to capture them in action.

A beautiful day, courtesy of Christine and Peter, much-loved friends of ours.

Blogging as a way to stay awake ...

I woke 36 hours ago, apparently, and went out with my camera exploring that misty Coromandel morning.  Then there was the big boat adventure out in Mercury Bay.  A short crash-into-bed afternoon nap, then 'assisting' the Belgian bloke in packing the big suitcases.

Later ...fish and chips some place fabulous where a Blues performance could be heard down at the seashore.

We continued on to Auckland city, the airport, and a 1am eleven-hour flight to Singapore. 

I didn't get an aisle seat.  Last night I learned that I need one.  My old motorbike accident body needs to walk every hour or so and my lovely seat companions slept.  I had a wee sleep but watched enough movies to know that it wasn't longer than 2 hours. 

We arrived in Singapore 6.30am local time and hunted for something to settle us down enough for me to write my blog post for Fans of Flanders.  Nothing worked so we found ourselves an airport hotel room for 6 hours.  But! there was too much in my mind and I never slept and voila, here we are some 14 hours later ... still awake and waiting for our flight back to Europe.

I do believe there might be a Russian parked directly in front of the big sports tv, making a Skype call that we're all getting to share... or perhaps I've become delusional.  The Aussie couple nearby seem irritated enough to suggest that it's really happening here in Singapore Airport.

Anyway, another photograph from my early misty morning walk on the day I was leaving ...