Mountains, Beaches and Bats

I'd set my alarm for 7:30am and when it went off, I wasn't happy. I grabbed it quickly before it disturbed the other people in the room and began to get ready. By 8:20 I was out the front of the hostel and immediately greeted by a small Scottish man with a clipboard who led me to the small bus which would take me to the actual tour bus. He chattered away to me whilst weaving through the morning rush hour traffic through the city and around Darling harbour and eventually into a suburb leading out to Glebe. He was a very weird man, asking about my boyfriend and why I didn't have a boyfriend and how I should find a boyfriend on this trip. He even went down the list of people who would be joining me on the tour trying to pick out which males were potential boyfriends. Luckily, it didn't take too long before I arrived at a YHA hostel where I could get out and breathe whilst I waited for the second bus.

I wasn't very enthused by the whole day, especially when the bus turned up and I was the last person to get on, meaning I was left with the small single retard seat at the very back of the minibus that didn't have a headrest but did boast a couple of extra seat cushions from where I assume the actual seat had broken. This wasn't why I wasn't exited though. I had no idea what the Blue Mountains was about. What was there and what to expect from the day. I'd really only booked it because I'd overheard people saying that it was something you just had to do whilst in Sydney. Also too, I think that the Great Ocean Road trip I went on raised all of my expectations for future days out that I have over here.

We drove through the Western suburbs of Sydney heading out to the Blue Mountains which was about an hour outside of Sydney itself. The view out the window was motorway and industrial sites and derelict houses for most of the way. We made a pit stop on the Nepean River which was a long wide river with some grassland on one side decorated with picnic tables, and quaint residential houses nestled on the other side of the river bank. The tour company set out some biscuits and juices whilst the driver went about checking who had paid and who was yet to pay. We stopped here for about fifteen minutes before pushing on. I was upset to hear that our first stop, which was in a clearing and had a lot of wild kangaroos lying about the place, had been flooded with the previous days rains and so we wouldn't be able to get there. Instead we were going straight to our second stop, Scenic World, but first we were going to make a stop at a look out point.

The road the bus took was basically a duel carriage way motorway, with a train line running beside. It passed through towns and passed by houses and shops. The driver explained that all of the communities based themselves around this one road, and just a few kilometres behind on each side was wild bushland. I could feel my ears beginning to pop with the gradual rise in altitude, but to look at the road outside, you would think you were just driving through Sydney still. At the first stop, we parked up amongst a lot of other cars who were there to see the sights and followed the driver through the bush and down some steps until we reached the top of a hill with a small fence around. This was amazing. The view was incredible, and especially for me with my complete lack of knowledge for what I was out there to see. The sky ahead was a hazy blue colour with low cloud congregating over the hill tops which looked like smoke from a chimney. The hills below, far below were textured with trees of varying shades of green all at different angles and layers with the clouds laying vast shadows over the canopy. I was suitably impressed.

*The Blue Mountains, are so because it is in fact a huge, maybe the biggest eucalypt forest and the heavy eucalyptus oil hangs in the air causing the sky to turn a hazy shade of blue, hence the Blue Mountains.
From here, we went to a cable car which would take us across and down to Scenic World, which from what I gather is a large tourist attraction built into a permeable rainforest that lives in the shelter of the huge cliffs around. The first cable car provided an opportunity to see all of the stunning views from a great distance, whilst the second, the steepest in Australia gave you a great sense of height. The way the trees looked below reminded me of broccoli florets. You could also see the Three Sisters, which is an eroded rock formation much like the twelve apostles, however their destruction has happened much more gradually as there is no ocean constantly attacking the structure. The Three Sisters is proclaimed by the Aborigine people to be a place of great healing, and apparently this notion of three or five or seven sisters represents healing and transformation in many tribal people all over the world which I found quite interesting.

After the driver took us on a guided tour around the rainforest and pointed out various trees and plants that had special significance to Australian culture, we headed back to the bus and drove to a little town called LeuraKatoomba Falls which donned a glorious rainbow over it's waterfall. Unfortunately, we were looking at it from over a valley and there was on way to get close to it as it was hidden away within all of the overgrown wilderness. We made the hike back up the hill stopping every few minutes for the elders and the unfit to catch their breath. The bus driver then drove a few minutes around the outskirts of the valley to another point, a place without tourists as the dirt track that lead to where we parked the bus was too narrow for a large coach to get down, and I thoroughly enjoyed that it was just our group here. This location did not have a name, but it was in fact a sheer cliff leading straight down into the leafy forest below, maybe 300 metres up? The first thing I did was ask one of the fellow passengers to take a photo of me as I nervously teetered towards the edge to dangle my legs in the air. The panoramic views were spectacular and I spent most of my time here just taking photos of everything I could see.

Before heading to the final stop, we make a quick detour into a residential area that sported a small clearing and in this clearing was a piece of solid stone with an aboriginal carving depicting a kangaroo that had possibly been speared. We had a discussion about what the artist was perhaps trying to portray before piling back into the bus and heading for the river's edge. It was late afternoon and the last part of the trip was to sail down the Paramatta river back into Sydney harbour on a large casual cruise ship. This took an hour and I got a good view of all of the lucky houses that backed onto the river, with varying architecture and most boasting private boat ramps straight into the water. The coastline was very consistent the whole way back to first Darling Harbour, and then Circular Quay in Sydney Harbour, broken up occasionally by private sail boats gently floating on the water.

After grabbing some fries from one of the vendors around the quay, I took the train back to the hostel and spent the evening watching a film before putting on my eye mask and falling asleep. Looking back, I believe that one of the main faults I can pick with this trip to the Blue Mountains was that it wasn't full of activity and the guide was not very passionate about his subject matter, but fingers crossed the next trip will be more enjoyable.

Bondi Beach.

I took the train to Bondi which was relatively easy. I'm quite lucky that this hostel is situated to closely to the main train terminal in Sydney. Three stops I think from Central to Bondi Junction, where I followed the crowds and caught a bus to the actual beach which was a few kilometres away. Another fortunate thing is my weekly ticket I bought covers all of my ferry, bus and most of my train travel too. I do like that I have the ability to just ride the rails like a hobo if I felt like it. The bus stopped right on the beach front, with newsagents and beach shops on one side, and a large grassy lawned area with some steps leading down to the beach front. There were lots of bars and cafes too, and a pavilion that held an art gallery, cafe and the toilets and showers. It was a glorious day, and luckily the beach wasn't too busy with it being a weekday (it was still busy mind!). The sand was quite pale in colour, but the general outlook was just like it was at Manly with the big aggressive waves and patrolling Baywatch style lifeguards. It was a lot smaller than I'd imagined as it was hemmed in by large walls of rock either side. After dipping my toes in the water keeping a careful watch for jellyfish and the sharks you often hear about, I lay down my things in a nice spot and spent the next few hours getting brown and I stayed there until the sun went in.

Coogee Beach.

I'd heard people talking about Coogee beach and I wasn't sufficiently happy with the colour of my skin yet, so I walked to Central and managed to jump on a bus that read 'Coogee' on the front. The bus took quite a long time to get to it's destination, driving though street after street of residential area, and I wondered if I was going the right way. But sure enough, the last stop was right on the beach front. It was a similar set up to Bondi and I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that all of these beaches are pretty much the same. Coogee was a lot smaller than Bondi though and a lot less busy in some areas, with most people congregating around the lifeguard area where you were actually allowed to swim. I stuck to the quieter area and lay backing in the sun for a good four hours before escaping to the nearby McDonalds and trying to bring my body temperature down with a large strawberry milkshake.

This morning, I woke up a little tired as I'd been out drinking with one of the chaps in my room in an attempt to socialise a little. I sat on the internet for an hour whilst I gradually woke up and I booked myself a ticket to see an opera at the opera house and I am greatly excited about this. It cost a fair amount of money for a rubbish seat three rows from the back, but the thought of actually seeing an opera performed at this majestic building and not just having my picture taken outside of it. Well, I will be able to boast wont I?! I also booked myself a ticket to go to the Sydney observatory on Sunday evening where you get to spend an hour and a half with an astronomer and again, I'm quite looking forward to this as it's something I've always wanted to do. Having spent all of this money, I decided that i wouldn't spend any money on my days activity and so I took the subway from Central to Circular Quay and spent a good forty minutes trying to get onto the harbour bridge as a pedestrian. I walked round and round the streets filled with cute Australian style houses looking up at the skyline and trying to follow the bridge above. I gave up in the end and took the train to where my hotel was back in Kirribilli and sure enough, the train landed me right on the bridge itself. I exited the station and walked the entire length of the bridge stopping to take photos every so often. My Dad had remarked on how wide the bridge actually is and how everyone sees it from the side but nobody sees it from the drivers point of view.

From here, I walked past the ferries and towards the Opera House to take a few more pictures from different angles and to examine where the box office ready for my ticket collection on Tuesday, before taking a turn into the Botanical Gardens. Again, they were a lovely piece of tranquil heaven in amongst all of the cities noises and smells and sights. I sauntered through slowly stopping to take a few pictures, before I walked into an area densely populated with trees and I heard a terrible screeching sound from up up above. As I looked, I saw a large bat hanging upside down from the very top of one of the trees and the more I looked, the more bats I saw dotted about, congregating upside down on their branches. Hundreds of them, all squawking. I took a couple of pictures and hurried out.

So I've just gotten back to the hostel. I bought a sandwich from a shop at Circular Quay and so I'm going to have that and watch a film tonight. I want to be up bright an early tomorrow ready to go and work on my tan a little more. I've just got to find a new beach to visit.

Mass, Memorial (kinda) and Museum

I've been having some serious problems with my eyes and head and neck. I can't remember if that was mentioned in my previous blog. I can't check because my telecommunications are on a world war ration in order to save money. So this morning, a little panicked, I rang up Specsavers in the city and booked the earliest appointment. Thankfully, the Aussie chap on the phone was very considerate when I told him it was fairly urgent. I had less than an hour before I had to leave so I quickly threw my things on and packed a bag heading out towards Central Station quite stupidly without much of an idea how I was going to get to the place.

I bought my return ticket and ran through the barrier and down the escalator in a true self important business man way, but when I reached the platform, I realised I'd gone onto the wrong line. And so sheepishly, I had to go back to the main part of the station, losing my return ticket through the barrier and getting more and more worked up as the time until my appointment was quickly narrowing. I asked a lady who worked at the ticket desk which train I would need to get in order to arrive at Hunter Street and she shrugged, staring blankly at the perspex screen between us. After she assured me that she was completely useless, I thanked her with exceptional sarcasm and tried to find a map of all the various stations. I ended up ringing Specsavers and asking them the easiest way to get to them and thankfully they were most helpful and I was able to get on a train pretty quickly.

When I arrived at Martins Place (the station, not a man), I walked around for a bit and asked a few people for directions until I found the shop, which uncharacteristically was hiding amongst all the high rises. The optician was very kind and upbeat and ran several tests on my eyes to make sure there was nothing wrong. And there wasn't. He advised me to see if the headaches get a little better, but if not I should probably consult a GP so they can run some more tests. Of course, this is out of the question as even with my travel insurance, I'd still have to front the medical costs until I got back to the UK. So it's a case of crossing fingers and just getting on with it.

I thought I'd make the most of my time in the city centre (not the hostel is more than a five minute walk to the action anyway), and started off in a McDonalds with a big frozen Fanta. I thought I'd try and head to the Australian Museum as I had a coupon for twenty percent off, but I ended up at St Mary's Cathedral. The architecture of course was no match for the historic medieval beauties of Blighty, but it was still impressive, standing on the grass and surrounded by hotels and restaurants in 'Hyde Park'. The door was open so I thought I'd go in and have a look. The inside was so very peaceful and settling. I walked around the walls of the building looking at the colourful stained glass windows and the detailed paintings and the yellow tinted vaulted ceiling and I lit a candle before taking a seat right at the back and surrounding myself in the tranquility. There were lots of other people sat, looking, kneeling, praying and others getting chased out after taking a picture and the flash giving their position away. As I contemplated leaving, afternoon mass began and so I decided to stay and listen. I didn't join in with any of the kneeling and I didn't know how you were supposed to respond to words and prayers so I just sat and listened intently to the story of Moses and the prayers for those around in the world in conflict and disaster.

I was thankful that the whole thing didn't go on for too long as I'd suspected it might. I left and headed again towards the museum but was distracted by the Anzac memorial. Anzac, from what I read, it the collective name for the Australian and New Zealand armies who fought from World War one until the present. It was a scaled down version of the Shrine of Remembrance that I'd visited with Mikey in Melbourne, with a small exhibition of war memorabilia telling a snippet of people's stories, and then up to a large round tower with stone scriptures and a torch that would never go out in memory of those who had died. I took a few pictures but then carried on my search for the museum.

I finally found it and went inside. There was an exhibition on the Aboriginal people, on wildlife native to Australia working back to extinct animals and eventually ending up with a big dinosaur display. There were lots of fossils and a lot of very detailed pieces on various spiders which I spent time looking over with a very morbid curiosity. The only thing that I can really recall from the top of my head is that boomerangs are generally not meant to return. They are used for hunting, and the ones that do return are either for use in games, or to scare birds out of the trees. That, and Australia is really trying to promote the work and craftsmanship of the Aboriginal tribes, and if what you buy is authentic and actually created by and Aboriginal, it should come with a photo and a story of the person who made it.

I stayed at the museum until closing, at which point the rain decided to fall, and it fell hard. I didn't have the motivation to run and become entangled in the bodies and their protective covers, so I sauntered, stopping at WoolworthsMcDonalds for my dinner because I was drenched and not really in the mood to walk about looking for something nutritious and cheap and from there I walked to the subway station, Town Hall, shivering and looking miserable as the traffic lights had no cover and were very very slow to change. By the time I got back to the hostel, I was completely soaked.

So, I've been sewing this evening. Sewing and getting my things ready for the Blue Mountains tomorrow and charging up all my electronic appliances. Fingers and toes crossed the weather will get better for tomorrow or I can already predict that I shall spend the day in a foul mood...

Chinatown Chinatown Chinatown.

Where was I?

I've been getting some excessively intent headaches these past few days each morning which blossom very elegantly into migraines come the evening time. This has sort of hindered a lot of my plans to explore the city. But nonetheless, I've tried.

I've been going to the little Chinese 'Paddys Market' pretty much everyday since I first discovered it. It started off with an obsession to find the man with the $10 hippie clothes and then became a thirst for buying little cheap things necessary to my trip. And little cheap things to take back home with me as presents for everyone.

I spent one day walking around the shopping district of the city, George Street, mainly a really long street that cuts right from the Rocks just past Circular Quay, straight down to China Town, and it was one hell of a walk. I did a lot of window shopping, visiting the David Jones and Myer stores, which are large departments stores like House of Frasier or Bloomingdales. I ducked into McDonalds to use their Wifi and bathrooms and treat myself to a delicious frozen raspberry Fanta, but I was careful enough never to order any actual food. The shops were mostly extortionately expensive, so I found myself going into the smaller Chinese shops with their promise of a fifteen dollar rack and nothing over ten bucks. Still, my heart was set on finding clothes exactly like my hippie things I'd bought on the Sunday...

I went to the Sydney Aquarium one day, Sydney's number one attraction, although I find that hard to believe. It was based at Darling Harbour, which is a short Ferry ride away just going a little further down past the Opera House. It reminded me very much of those SeaWorld places that you find by the British seaside, with grubby aged exteriors and cheesy posters outside, but it was still a pleasant way to kill time. There were many fish species and I tried my hardest to read as many of the pieces of information as I could. My favourite fish that I saw were the seahorse, cuttlefish and of course the classic hammerhead shark.

One of the days when there was a spot of sunshine early on in the morning, I chanced it and took the ferry to Manly. The ferry ride itself is something that my free guidebook claims everyone must do whilst in Sydney. It was just another ferry ride, but the passengers were a lot more excited and colourful than on my usual ferry back to Kirribilli. Manly was a pretty cool place. It's a seaside area, with a lot of shops leading down to the 'sea front', which was nothing like a sea front at all. In fact, it was exactly how you'd picture an Aussie beach to be after catching the odd few minutes of Home and Away and Neighbours. The colours of the sea ran deep in a gradient of blues and the sun was scorching hot and baking skin. The sea itself had high crashing waves and there were people out there trying to ride, as well as people learning a little closer to the shore hugging their boards before standing up and being thrown off by a wave just a foot high. The weather held out until around 4pm when you could see the rain distorting the view in the distance, so I had a quick fish and chip dinner before catching the ferry back and foolishly choosing the outdoor seating just as the downpour began. One of the sights that I remember clearly was a group of several yachts, maybe fifteen or so, sailing toward and then right by the ferry, their white canvas contrasting the grey backdrop of Sydney, and so silent, it was eerie as anything.

One of the days at the market, I was cornered by an Asian chap who wanted to give me a free sample of his Thai massage in order to lure me into his stall at the market. I obliged but was horrified when it felt as good as it did. I told him I'd think about it, but by the time I'd slinked my way up the aisle and back down the other, I had to give in. He began with the neck and shoulders as I'd asked, but then told me my back was very tense and needed I'd before I could agree, he began saying only twenty dollar, twenty dollar. He did the same thing with my legs and hips which brought the total up to $35, but before he could start on my arms which "needed it very much", I got up and said no thank you!

Breakfast at the hotel was a delight every morning until the last few, when although the same spread was produced, I was fed up with the same old things at eight o clock every day. They put on a full spread, three kinds of eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, fried tomatoes and then an alternate variation of fried bread, pancakes, quiche or seasoned potatoes. As well as this, there were four types of juice, about seven different breads, several cereals and peaches or a fruit salad and yoghurt. And the best part was it was help yourself to as much as you like. So I did. My huge free breakfast meant that I only had to pay and worry about my evening meal. I tried a local Taiwanese restaurant in Kirribilli, a place in Chinatown where the menu was all in Chinese symbols, a sandwich shop that made the heaviest sandwich I've ever had and a Thai cafe that served some lovely salads. It all 'put me on' as my Dad would say.

Glenferrie Lodge. Outside, other people who were also checking out huddled together under the front shelter bundled up in their waterproofs and commenting on the weather, but rather than put off my impending soaking, I marched out into the rain in my shorts and t-shirt and dragged my suitcase down all of those steps, making my way to the ferry. I was over half an hour early. Being a Sunday the ferry times were different and much less frequent. A girl struggled down the steps with her suitcase and I assumed she was in the same position as me. She commented on our predicament in the weather and we began talking. Her name was Nadia, she was working on her PhD in Geology and had been doing some research in Australia. She was from Colonge and had been staying at Glenferrie for nearly five weeks. We carried on chatting all the way to Circular Quay where we separated as she needed the train, and I wanted the bus.

I managed to find a bus that matched one of the four bus numbers I'd scrawled on my hand which took me to Sydney Central Train Station, but I asked the bus driver just incase. I'd been taking my time, as check in wasn't until the standard time of two o clock. Once I arrived at Central, I believe that the weather had worsened even more. My clothes were more than damp, but I feared for the contents of my suitcase and backpack. The scene was one that wouldn't look out of place with people running and screeching and knocking one another with their umbrellas, but due to my suitcase, I had no choice but to walk, so I did. I took an underpass hoping to be led into the station where I could find an ATM, but it was only around three quarters of the way along it that I realised I was actually going underground to the subway station, which meant steps... When I saw the steps that led up to the Elizabeth Street exit, another piece of tatty information written on my hand to remind me of the correct direction, my heart sank a little. As I hauled my case up the first step with one hand clinging to the handrail, I almost thought that I wouldn't be able to manage it up all of the stairs. But I did luckily.

I still needed that ATM, so I began to walk back towards the station and came across the hostel which was handy. I thought I'd go and ask them where the ATM was and whether I could dump my bag with them until check in. My room was ready, but of course the ATM they insisted I go to was one in the pub they owned attached to the hostel, and of course it charged. I politely said no thank you and then took my things up to my room before leaving in search of a REAL ATM.

The hostel reminds me in many aspects of Habitat. Very bright vibrant wall colours and very clean and uncluttered. There's a lift that takes you up to one of the four floors and you need your keycard to use it. The bathrooms also need the keycard which also stores the information of your gender, so you can't go into the men's and vice versa. There's a lot of posters advertising up coming events and parties and theme nights which makes me think that this is a bit of a party hostel which I'm not sure I'm okay with. My room is room 304, which is a four bed mixed dorm comprising of two bunk beds and four large lockers. The room is very big, very white, with an AC vent in the ceiling and a fair amount of space around the beds for you to dump your things. I can't hear any road noise, but I can hear the music playing on the top floor where the communal lounge and rooftop terrace are, but I'll tell you after tonight whether that annoys me or not! I'm sharing with two girls and one boy but as with all hostels, the people change most days so it's never for long.

(When I nipped to the market, I managed to find my hippie clothing guy at last! I went a little mad and spent forty five bucks on three tops and a skirt, but nevermind).

So I'm here for eleven nights before I head up to Brisbane. Fingers crossed once I settle down and dare to try and mix with the other people here that I'll make some friends as I did in Habitat. Damn Habitat for raising the standards to high.

My first day in Sydney, and all those other days that didn't count.

The past 6 days.

My plane ride from Wellington to Sydney was a breeze. The air was very calm and only allowed for one bout of "Oh my God the plane is going to crash!", which made a nice change and meant that I could sort of enjoy my flight. Being poor meant that I was actually looking forward to the meal that was served on the plane and I chose the steamed fish with cous cous over the lamb curry which the man next to me seemed to enjoy a lot (who thought of serving curry, renowned for all it's FRAGRANT spices, on a small confined plane?). Arriving in at Sydney airport, I remembered it very vividly from the first day that I arrived here in Australia, mainly because of the big duty free you have to walk through to get to customs, trying to entice you to spend even more money. I was thoroughly impressed that whilst waiting at the carousel for my luggage, my bag was the very first bag that came round. I don't think this has happened to anybody ever!

I called the shuttle company once I'd gotten into the arrivals area as instructed and was told to wait near the adjacent McDonalds where a driver would arrive with my name on a sign. So I parked myself and sat looking at everyone and deciding whether or not they were visiting or whether this was home. Many shuttle drivers came, and approached those around me leading them off in various directions, but there was no sign of my driver. I watched an elderly couple, maybe in their 60's/70's, an old lady who didn't say much who looked a little scruffy with her straggly gray hair pulled tightly into a pony tail, and her husband I assume, with equally unkept curly hair under a baseball cap, and a beer belly the size of Queensland, I watched them eat a burger each and get up before proceeding to me to ask me for "a spare dollar for a burger". I politely said that I had no change and they went on their way, asking other people on their way to the exit.

One hour passed and the strange couple (who I'd watched have another burger AND an ice cream cone each) had asked me twice more for a spare dollar and all the faces waiting for shuttle pick ups had changed. I decided to call the company again who assured me the driver was on his way, but stuck in traffic and there was no ETA. I was getting a little frustrated at this point, just because they should have factored traffic into the equation, and I'm sure it didn't take an hour to get from the drivers last point of call to the airport. Still, I had no choice but to wait. I got myself a frozen coke from McDonalds and stepped outside to get a little air. The strange looking couple came up to me once more, asking me for a spare dollar for a burger and at this point I lost it with them, telling them 'where to go' and  pointing out the fact that I'd watched them eat two burgers each in the past hour. They said nothing and moved on asking the next group of people. But at least they didn't ask me again whilst I was waiting. This is why there are always signs saying 'Do not feed the pigeons'...

I think an hour and a half had passed by now. I watched out the window as a man without a leg walked past on his crutches and I wondered if the accident had been recent and that was the reason that he didn't have a prosthetic replacement. I sunk down on the table feeling hot and tired and unattractive, when the same man approached me and I noticed his ASN shuttle polo shirt. He asked if I was Kim and said he just had to find somebody else before we could go. As amused as I was about the one legged driver, I was more concerned about having to lift my suitcase into the back of a shuttle. I had been looking forward to someone talking the thing off my hands, especially with the amount of weight I had in my rucksack and handbag. He found the other person, an Asian man, and whilst the driver was on the phone to someone, the Asian man told me that he'd had a phone call earlier saying that they'd found his cousins body in Christchurch. I just didn't know what to say. Thankfully, this guy put my suitcase in the back of the van for me and we were on our way.

I forgot to mention, what added to my annoyance was once inside the van, the driver asked me where I was going, and when I told him I had supplied the company with the address for my destination when I'd booked the service, he laughed and said he didn't know where we were going, and he didn't know where Greenwich Village Accommodation. The whole thing was beginning to take the form of a really crap joke.

We arrived at Greenwich Village Accommodation some time later. My heart had sank a little because I'd caught a glimpse of the Opera House, but then realised that we'd driven a hell of a way from it. The building looked quite seventies, but I assumed that was typical student halls. As I walked through the carpark

My few days here were not enjoyable. The first night, I deliberately didn't drink anything so that I wouldn't have to go in the bathroom (they were an absolute state. Filth and hair and mold and damp and one blocked loo and spiders), and when I woke up the next morning, I nearly fainted. I could barely move and felt very sick and exhausted and figured that I was quite dehydrated, especially with being in the heat all night. The internet only worked in the common area, so whilst everyone was in class I would go downstairs during the day and sit on my laptop trying to find somewhere else to stay, before having my prison dinner and running back into my room and hiding. I watched a lot of films, and didn't get very much sleep at all. Thankfully, once my Dad saved me again by booking me into a hotel and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, I began to see the funny side of the situation and just watched a lot of films before GLADLY moving out first thing Sunday morning.

I took advantage of the hot breakfast before I left. Cheap ham that was supposed to be bacon, a watery egg, a slice of bread and some spaghetti. But after that, I called a cab and got the hell outta there. I was glad that the driver didn't say anything to me because I wasn't in any mood to make small talk. I was very apprehensive about the new place I was moving to, simply because I haven't had a lot of luck so far. We arrived in a residential area at Glenferrie Lodge. The place looked tall and that was all I could really say about it on first impression. My fare came to $18.90 on the metre, so when the driver asked me for $23 I replied with my 'errmmmm.....' that I tend to do. I asked him how he figured that out and he apologised and repeated "18.90". I can't believe he thought I was THAT stupid!

Being a tall building and with reception up on the second floor, there were quite a few steps. I grabbed hold of my suitcase with one hand and the railing with the other and managed to haul everything up with some difficulty. I told the guy at reception that I knew I was early (Check in was 2pm, and it was 10:20) and he said my room wasn't ready, but told me there was a TV room I was welcome to wait in. I bought a can of lemonade from the vending machine inside the hotel and sat down and watched the news, all about Japan. The hotel is not really a hotel like a Hyatt or an Ibis. It's sort of like two town houses connected together with walkways and a garden, with a dining area and small TV area, a small reception in the hallway and then a lot of rooms and communal bathrooms. It seemed clean enough though. The only downside was that there wasn't any AC, but I suppose that's a very small price to pay for cleanliness and security. The reception man found me about an hour later and told me my room was ready. I put my signature on some paper and he explained about breakfast and where things were. I asked him about the internet and he said that time cards had to be used straight away once activated and that 24 hours access was £20 a day. I grumbled to myself. He then noticed my ohm tattoo. He asked me whether or not I knew what it meant because it was the symbol of 'his Gods' and I explained that I was raised Hindu by my mother. I could see his face light up and he carried on asking where I grew up and such and such. He then said, 'Tell you what', and told me that he'd give me the internet for $10 a day, so I told him how kind that was and scurried on to my room like a grateful mouse who'd been given a block of edam to herself. Praise be to Lord Shiva!

My room was small. Ground floor with the bathrooms right nearby. Single bed with a nightstand and a lamp. A small dressing table with mirror, and a TV in one corner with a fridge underneath. There was a ceiling fan too. I noticed the window was wide open, and although it had bars to stop intruders getting in, bars certainly wouldn't stop invaders getting in so I quickly shut the window. The only downside was a couple of marks on the wall next to the bed which look like blood and I think that they're squashed mosquito's, and there was a large cobweb up in one of the corners of the high ceiling, but I caught a Chinese man hoovering in the hallway and asked him to come and get it for me. I trashed the place immediately (when I say trashed the place, I mean I emptied out my bags and put my things so that they covered every inch of table top and put my shoes on the floor by my bed. You know, to make it feel mine).

It was coming up to 12 and I'd broken my headphones that morning so I set off to find a market. I was obsessed with finding a market because I wanted to spend a little cash. I'd seen a sign whilst in the taxi pointing to the Kirribilli Wharf, so I retraced the way and found the place where you get the ferry into the CBD around 2 minutes away from the hotel. There were a few people waiting there, and so I approached an older couple with their granddaughter and asked how you pay for the ferry and they explained there's a ticket machine at the other side where you can get your ticket to exit the terminal. The lady gave me her timetable and said it was very lucky that I'd turned up when I did, because on a Sunday the ferry's run hourly. I made small talk with the man about England and before long the ferry turned up. A big old looking green and yellow thing. You walk down a runway sort of thing and the ferry pulls up as close as it can and they put a little bridge between the boat and the runway for you to step across. I immediately started panicking that the walkway was going to fall into the water and I'd drown, especially as the water seemed to be quite rough, bobbing up and down like a crazy. There's lots of seats inside and some benches around the outside of the ship, so I opted for an outdoor seat so that I could get a good view of what was going on. It was a glorious day. Blue skies and hot sun beaming down and gently toasting my shoulders. The ferry makes a few stops around the bay area in amongst all the private little boats and yachts before returning to Kirribilli and then driving over to Circular Quay, which is the big ferry port where they all go. The whole thing takes around 15 minutes.

I was starting to feel a little queasy with all the motion as it's been a long time since I was on a boat. It all went away though when I caught sight of the Opera House. The ferry motors right past it towards harbour bridge before turning into Circular Quay. It was a spectacular sight. It's one of those things that you don't actually think that you'll get to see in your lifetime and it really did move me to see it with my own eyes. I found it so odd that people live and work by it and probably don't give it a second thought, but there again I suppose it's only like Big Ben or parliament in London. When we pulled into Circular Quay, I managed to get a ticket from the ticket machine and exited, not knowing where the hell I was going. I was expecting to be on a high street of some kind, but it was odd. Lots of stalls and newsagents and a Hungry Jacks and then if you walked to the left towards the Opera House there were bars and cafes. I headed forward to see if I could try and find a crowd to follow, but instead was presented by a lot of bus stops. Co incidentally, a bus drove past me and pulled up just a few metres away which was the 555, the free bus, so thinking what luck I quickly boarded it and thought I'd just ride it about.

I'd heard people saying that they were getting off at Chinatown and so I thought I'd follow suit. Sydney city seemed a lot different to Melbourne. It was bigger and with a lot more going on, and less of the cute back alleys and easy to follow grid based streets. It seemed to have less of an identity as it just reminded me of London, but without the garish red buses and smog. The bus didn't say anywhere what stop we were at each time people departed the bus, but I figured I was on the money when all the Asian people stood up to disembark. The street I got onto was exceptionally crowded with tourists. There were a lot of people holding signs with painted symbols, but I noticed one in English that was anti communist. I was offered around five different leaflets and let the crowds sort of take me one way like a current in the ocean. I walked to a corner and took a right when I saw a big sign on the corner of a large building that looked like a disused factory that read "MARKET CITY" (Remember what I was looking for? A Market? Well, I found a whole city!). I felt very pleased with myself that I'd found what I was looking for without even trying!

Market city was in fact a shopping centre, with a big food court and market and lots of clothes shops and outlet shops all on three floors. I took a leisurely stroll about, going into various shops and looking interested like I was going to buy something. Little did they know I'm poor and have no money! I noticed an escalator leading downwards to a place called 'Paddy's Market', which is a huge covered market that I'd read about in my guide to Sydney I'd picked up for free at the airport. The place was huge, with rows and rows of market stalls. Albeit as with most markets, you get ten different stalls selling to types of things, but still. I took a very slow walk meandering about, stopping off at souvenir stalls and stalls that looked a bit ethnic and hippy. I managed to pick up most of my presents for people back home as well as some cheap clothes for myself. I left the market feeling very satisfied with my buys. I walked back to where the 555 had dropped me off and just as I arrived, a bus showed up and I rode it back to Circular Quay.

It was only 3pm and the day was still gorgeous so I thought I'd stroll down the side of the ferry port towards the Opera House. Here were all the expensive bars that I could picture the suits frequenting on a Friday night after a hard weeks work. And above these were tall executive looking apartments all with balconies that gave you a great view on what was going on. And I bet they cost an absolute fortune. I carried on walking, right up to the Opera House. It was so full of character, with it's quirky acoustical structure and little square panels on it's slightly yellow tinted roof. I walked right down to the back of the Opera House and came back again, trying to get a picture of myself with it in the background. I must of looked like an idiot with my camera upside down and my arm outstretched, because a kind man who was walking past came up to me chuckling and asked if I'd like him to take the picture for me. I said that would be most helpful and pulled a big cheesy grin for the photo. Along side the Opera House, on a level down a little closer to the water, there was a bar, with lots of voices chatting loudly over a live band and clinking glasses. I decided to go down and investigate and ended up buying a $9 glass of Rose. All the tables were taken, but along the water side was a long seated area with cushions, so I grabbed a spot and enjoyed my rose in the sunshine, listening to the music diffuse into the atmosphere. This was one of the moments were you have to smile and realise how God damned lucky you are to be doing what you're doing. I tried to get another picture of myself with the harbour bridge behind me and a girl at a table nearby saw me again struggling so offered to take the picture. I drank my wine slowly, slowly enough that the last drop was no longer ice cold but lukewarm instead. Just savouring the sounds and the sights and the smells.

As the time for my ferry approached, remembering that there was only one every hour, I hurried back to the ferry port, stopping to get a Hungry Jacks to take back to my room and a $6 (Yes, $6) bottle of spring water to keep in my room. I rode the ferry back to Kirribilli and decided to have an early night ready for another good day tomorrow, making full use of the great transportation, my lifeline to the city.

The kindness of the people in Kia Ora

Sunday

Once I'd turned off my alarm, I lifted up the curtains that were above my bed slightly to see if I could see sunshine or cloud. I could see neither. Just lots and lots of rain drops settled on the window. This was okay though today, because I didn't have to go out anywhere in the rain. I got a quick shower and threw on some clothes and before I knew it, it was time to go outside and meet Sandy. The wind was bitter and I instantly regretted not putting on a hoody, but she arrived in her red Ford KA almost as soon as I stepped out. I hopped in and we drove to her daughter's house which is on the way to the train station to pick up some things. Sandy then drove me right to the top of a hill that I'd been eyeing up and it was so high that I could feel my ears trying to pop. It was a breathtaking view though, and she told me that the island you'll see in all of my pictures I've taken from around here is called Mana Island, and it's got a flat top because the local monster jumped and misjudged his landing, smoothing the top. She pointed out various bits and pieces and explained their history and names before descending the hill and driving back passed Moana Lodge to her house.

I wouldn't fancy driving over here, even though I'm sure you get used to it. The roads up the hills are like the country roads you find near Keyston and Hargrave, but with sheer leafy cliff faces one side and a nice opportunity to fall down the other side. And a lot of places, there's only room for one car. It's a second gear all the way job.

We reached Sandy's house which was right at the top of a hill down in a cul de sac, but down a long driveway. She explained that she had three acres and two properties on it, hers and the one that they built for her Father. It was a very quirky building built into the hill. There was a garage and down some steps to the main bit of the house and from there you could go up a flight to some bedrooms or down into some more bedrooms that had been built into the hillside and the roof of this part made up part of the garden. The garden had a cute lawned area and a magnificent view over the sea and the rest of it was wild bush and trees. I met Miles, Sandy's husband who'd just gotten back from a two week motorbiking tour of the South Island. The three of us got chatting until Miles had to go out and begin cutting some firewood outside, so Sandy began preparing lunch and I helped her. Lunch was to be scrambled egg with smoked salmon on lovely seeded bread. She poured herself and I a glass of wine and we worked and talked until it was all ready, where we sat at the table and Miles joined us. They talked between themselves like I was a member of the family with one of them stopping every now and again to explain who this or that person was. She also gave me some presents that she'd bought me for my birthday, some New Zealand bits and pieces for travelling, which was so sweet that she'd remembered from our brief conversation we'd had the day before. After we'd finished eating, Sandy said that on Sunday evenings they all have a big family dinner and asked if I'd like to come. Mostly wanting to, and a little not wanting to be rude, I said yes straight away! The two of them had to go to a memorial service that afternoon so asked if it was okay to take me back to Moana Lodge, but said they'd pick me up at 4:45pm that afternoon for dinner. I said many many thank yous as they dropped me off and went back for a sleep.

At four o clock I woke up and decided to start getting ready for tea, and at quarter past, I heard a knocking on the door from one of the people who work here, saying I had a visitor. It was Sandy. I apologised for getting the times mixed up and she said that she'd just come early because she'd had to pick up her two twin grandsons early (they live in the house near the train station). I told her I'd be two minutes, slung on a hoody and headed out. In the car were the two twin boys, maybe 18 months old, and one of her daughters called Zoe. When we got to the house, I hung out with Zoe for a little while helping her to watch the two boys. She was 23 and just finished a four year degree in fashion design but couldn't find a job in that field that wasn't in Australia. Three more children soon arrived and these were the children of Sandy's eldest son and his wife. These were shortly followed by the middle daughter who was the mother of the twins, Claire, who is my age. I really loved the children's names. Sebastian and Alexander were the twins, then there was Beatrix, Verity and Harold. I played games with the girls and had a chat with everyone sat together who again just treated me like I was a member of the family. We ate blue New Zealand cheese and brie with biscuits and wine. This is what Kim was missing!!!

Dinner was fabulous. A big dressed salad and corn on the cob and baked macaroni cheese with onion and bacon, followed by a birthday cake and Sandy and Zoe had made for me with ice cream. The cake was chocolate with real passion fruit in it. They had a cat too, Shiva, a big black cat with ginger bits and so I had to take full advantage and give her a lot of loving to make up for how much I miss Stella. After attacking the cat and explaining that I was a cat woman in the making, we talked politics (although my tiny knowledge meant that I couldn't input too much into the conversation) and compared the prices of things before Sandy said she was going to go and help put the twins in bed at their house so did I want to have a lift back. I gladly accepted, and as I was leaving, Miles said that he would be glad to take me out tomorrow with it being my last day and show me all the things that I'd miss without having a car. I was running out of ways to say, "that is so unbelievably kind of you. I'd love to", so I agreed and he said he'd pick me up at 7:40 in the morning for coffee and to make a plan with Sandy before she went off to work. I said my farewells to everyone and gave Shiva the cat one last nudge before heading back with the cheese and biscuits and chocolate birthday cake that Sandy gave me to take home.

I can't stress how absolutely amazing and kind these people are and I really think that today and tomorrow will be one of the most memorable experiences that I bring back home from this entire trip. These guys owe me absolutely nothing and yet they have given so much to an absolute stranger. The amount of stories of abuse and unfriendliness between everyone back in England really makes you forget that there are genuinely lovely selfless people in this world still.

It's a small world, afterall

Saturday

When I woke up, I stepped outside as I do every morning to survey the weather and judge whether or not I could go out anywhere. The sun was shining over the sea highlighting all the different colours in the ocean and there were people wind sailing and fishing and if you turned around to face the hills, you saw low lying grey clouds moving rapidly with the wind. I thought it'd be best if I hurried on out to beat the rain again, so I phoned my Mom quick and headed off to the train station carrying fleeces and umbrellas and sandals in my bag because I really didn't know what the weather would throw at me.

I got to the train station and began to feel very anxious that 'I wasn't doing it right'. I sat down sheepishly on a bench in front of the railway station shop on the side of the tracks that the lady from a couple days ago had shown me was the right way into Wellington and I waited. I noticed that there was nobody else on the platform, but I thought that maybe people just weren't going into the city today for whatever reason. Half an hour passed which meant the train was due, but it didn't arrive. I decided that even though it was lovely New Zealand, trains probably still fall foul of the same problems with tardiness that they do back home in the UK. I was feeling more and more self conscious though as people were walking past me from one end of the platform down to the underpass on the other side. I bundled up as the cold Southerly wind was picking up, when I man came up to me holding a piece of paper and said, 'You do know the trains aren't running today don't you?'. I said thank you to him as he directed me to where the replacement bus service was being run from and cursed all the other people who'd just walked passed me without saying a word.

I too went through the underpass to the other side and found a park with an archery club and a large parking area, but no sign as to whether or not this was the right place. I saw a lady standing twiddling something in her fingertips which I assumed to be a ticket and asked her if I was in the right place. She assured me that I was and asked in which direction I was going and told me she'd put me on the right bus when it came, South, not North. We began making small talk about public transport and she asked me where abouts in England I came from. Tired of saying "Northamptonshire" and having people nod blankly at me, I just said in the middle of England. She told me that she used to go to the Midlands when she was younger as her grandfather and a lot of her family lived in a place called Earls Barton, and at this point I was absolutely shocked! I told her that I was actually from Northamptonshire and how impressed I was that a Kiwi would know of the place. As the bus drew up, she asked me if I was visiting anyone here in NZ and I explained that I didn't know anyone over here and she replied "I can't have that!". When we boarded the bus and sat next to one another, she wrote down her name, Sandy, and her telephone numbers, saying that she lived about 2 minutes away from Moana Lodge and would love to have me over for lunch. She got off the bus in Kia Ora before my stop and I assured her that I'd give her a call later that night when I got back from the city.

When I got into Wellington, it was spitting a little. I spied a McDonalds opposite the station and couldn't resist the chance to get a precooked, perfectly sized meal that would fill me up for under 9 bucks. I noticed that there were a lot of young people, my age, dressed up like there was something big going on, and I couldn't reason that it was because of the Neil Diamond concert that was on!! I headed out towards the museum by the waterfront and got sucked into everyone all swilling beer and giving piggy backs and falling over. I ducked into an arts market that I found to have a look round and escape the huge crowds and loud shouting and the songs distorted by the wind. I bought a couple of things, one for myself and one for Sam and carried on towards the Te Papa National Museum of New Zealand. The further I walked, I could see that it was actually a huge music festival going on, called Homegrown. I toyed with the idea of perhaps trying to buy a ticket, but overheard one girl on the phone telling somebody that it was sold out. By this time, the rain was beginning to pour, so I took refuge in the museum as quickly as I could.

The museum was great. I eyed around to see where I had to pay and how much and felt like I had to sneak undetected into the exhibits until I saw a 'keep Te Papa free' donations box. It was quite a big museum, on lots of different levels, and the first exhibit I entered really impressed me as it was very technological and had a wall that reminded me of the computer Tom Cruise uses in Minority Report, where you use a little stick to control and manipulate images and colour and sounds on a huge screen. I learned about the history of the Earth and then New Zealand's history, native animals and natural disasters. On the next level, I learned about New Zealand's agricultural history and how things were introduced over the years. There was also a place called 'Bush City' which was an outside artificial bush showing you the different sorts of landscapes you can find out in rural New Zealand. On the third level, was a whole exhibit on the Maori and emigration into the country from all over the world and it's ties with Great Britain. On the next was an art gallery full of New Zealand artists and a featured exhibition on a Kiwi photographer who managed to take photographs from all over the world in the fifties sixties and seventies, and on the final level was a sculpture exhibit.

I spent nearly four hours in the museum revelling in the fun of the interactive pieces downstairs and the tranquility and peace of the galleries upstairs, walking at an incredibly slow and annoying rate just to make sure that I didn't miss anything. But the time I'd finished, it was after half five and the crowds were in full surge walking around the waterfront. I believe the different stages were placed in various places all over the quay. I went back to the station and got on the train to Waikanae (the last Kia Ora on my line) and took the train home, having to get off at Pouirua to change to the bus back to Plimmerton. I phoned Sandy when I got back who asked me how lunch sounded the following day. She said she'd pick me up at 11 because she lived at the top of one of the hills I spent a lot of time looking at. I had had an awful feeling that this lady was too good to be true and was half expecting her to not pick up when I called and left the conversation feeling very good indeed.

I had half a bottle of wine in the evening whilst watching Peep Show on my netbook, before eventually tiring and hitting the hay.

Happy 25.

The day of birthing.

I woke up at around 10am because I wanted to catch everyone on the phone before they went to bed, followed by work in the morning. The sky outside was ever so miserable and grey, but thankfully there was no horrific rain like I thought there might be, just wind. Enough wind to bang everything around that wasn't secured down. I wandered in the kitchen to get my bottle of water to have with my cereal bar and was so pleasantly surprised by the cake that had been left for me in the middle of the kitchen island from the owners of the lodge. Under a blue cover with "Happy Birthday Kim" written on the top lay a lovely big round cake with orange sponge and chocolate chips and chocolate cream frosting embellished with two blue candles and the word "Kim". I was so incredibly touched by such a small act of kindness that I had a potter around to see if I could find Helen and John to thank them, but I couldn't. I carried on with my breakfast and opened my few cards that I'd brought with me and was wished a happy birthday by two separate people whilst we exchanged travelling plans.

I took a leisurely shower followed by more phone calls back home to England and a two hour chat with my mom and my sister via the Skype. I'm afraid to say that my birthday was quite a slow day. After straightening my hair and putting on the prettiest dress I have with me and spending a good half an hour on my makeup, I moved into the living room with my netbook and speakers and sunk down in the comfy corner sofa and began watching TV shows on my netbook, all the while watching the clouds moving faster and faster whilst the sky turned to a deathly shade of grey/black outside.

By 5pm, my stomach was growling at me and the sky at the back of the lodge was so dark and heavy that it looked fit to burst with rain, so I thought I'd head into the village and try and beat the showers. At least that way, I'd only have to walk home in the wet. I marched off with my Ipod. Before I got to the restaurant, I was approached by a fat lady on a bench who looked like she smelled who started asking me for change and then when I said I had no change she said she'd be happy to take a note. I explained breifly that I was a backpacker and all of my money was hard earned and much needed and left her whilst she started muttering, obviously upset by my comments.

At the Indian, I asked for a table for one and the waiter looked at me as if I'd said a joke. He spoke to his colleague in a different language and then seated me on a table next to the bar. As I looked around, I realised that his concern was the fact that all the other tables in the place had 'reserved' notices on them.  I thought I'd really treat myself so I had a starter, main, rice and naan together with an expensive class of merlot cabernet sauvingon. By the end, I was absolutely stuffed, so I settled the bill and began the walk home, only to notice that while I'd been sitting, a large blister had reared it's ugly head on one of my feet, and the walk became very difficult.

When I finally got back to the lodge, I lit the candles on my cake and asked one of the ladies that was in the kitchen to take a picture of me. I made my standard wish and blew the candles out before telling everyone to make sure they had a piece because I couldn't manage the whole thing on my own. I sat back down on the corner sofa in my same spot with my glass of wine and began watching more TV shows on my netbook. The people here don't really mix with one another past pleasantries as they are all in couples or families or groups staying for just one or two nights. I didn't mind though. I noticed out of the corner of my eye the sunset that was unfolding through the window so I grabbed my camera quickly and limped out as far as I could to a corner where the land and the hills turn right and I took a few pictures whilst standing out there waiting for the evening to fade into night time. The sky was a beautiful orange glow behind the clouds, contrasting with slithers of deep blue into grey, with spectacular cloud formations of all different shapes. It reminded me very much of the glowing flame of the birthday candle I'd lit earlier. When I got back, I finished my wine and realising that I was the only person still up at ten o clock, I cleared up my things and got into bed.

New Zealand is pretty much a bottle of Kia Ora

Thursday.
I really have to keep reminding myself what day it is. Even though the time difference is only two hours from Melbourne, it's difficult to get my head around, especially with the emphasis that I'm all that much farther from home.

It was a lovely morning, although I wasted it a little by having a lie in. At around seven AM, I was awoken by two children having a screaming or crying match. I couldn't make out which but either one was just as annoying as the other. The walls are quite thin here and so you can hear everything quite clearly once it gets to a certain level. I put the pillow over my head and drifted back until around ten thirty.

When I got up, the sun was still shining brightly, so I grabbed a quick shower and made myself look marginally pretty and slung on my 'traveller' clothes, which consist of shorts, a khaki vest, rucksack and my walking boots. I asked the owner lady Helen who was at reception about the trains, their cost and whether or not you could pay for your ticket on the train or whether you had to buy it at the station from a machine like on the trams in Melbourne. I put my headphones off and started on my walk toward the station.

The station was very much like one of the stations you'd find in the countryside back home, consisting of one platform with trains going each way on either side. There was a little shop right at the end, but I was more concerned about which side I had stand on as I didn't want to end up on a train to the middle of nowhere. I asked a lady who was standing and she gave me a big smile and told me I was on the right side. She then went on to ask about where I was from and what I was doing and where I was staying and she boarded the train with me and showed me which side I needed to sit on to see the coastline. She joined me and told me all about the area and how it would be nice one day if the weather was fine to just ride the trains about. She helped me purchase the right ticket from the conductor as he had a very quiet thick Chinese accent which confused me greatly. She showed me a map and offered to come into the city to show me around, but I told her that I couldn't put her out like that, especially as she'd just got back from a 71km hike the day before. We talked so much that she missed her stop. When the train arrived at the next station, we said our farewells and I sat back pressed against the window once more with my camera in hand.

I arrived in Wellington city around forty five minutes later and got off the train to follow the crowds, as they seemed to know where they were going and I was just lost. I saw a sign towards parliament, so I followed those and found the New Zealand parliament buildings, which were quite striking, especially one part that was completely round with lots and lots of windows all around. There was a lot of green grass and shady trees on the site where everyone had gathered to eat their lunch and sit and talk on their mobile phones. I took some pictures, but there wasn't much to see due to the plentiful 'authorized persons only beyond this point' signs, so I carried on down a street in the direction that I thought was the city centre. I'm getting good at walking in the right direction and just finding what I'm looking for.

The city centre once I hit it, reminded me ever so much of any other city, especially an Australian one. The tall buildings made the streets seems quite claustrophobic to walk down, and there was a lot of shade from the buildings themselves and the awnings that they had coming off of them. One thing I did notice that there were a lot of book shops, both second hand book shops and one's belonging to chain stores. There were a lot of clothing stores which all seemed to have generic clothes in the windows that you might find from New Look or Top Man, this, together with numerous surf and skate shops. Nothing really look my fancy, and I was really after a new necklace seeing as my shark tooth one from Melbourne kept digging into my neck whilst I was trying to sleep. I walked up and down the streets just looking through the shop windows and stopped at an American style food court to get some food. Another thing I noticed in the food court is that everything is priced a little under what it would be in Melbourne, which is especially great considering you get a little more NZ dollar than you would Australian for your pound.



It took me around twenty five minutes to get down the hill through the gardens and I passed through some lovely rose gardens and saw some endangered species and even went through a graveyard. It shocked me how all of the dates on the grave stones were so recent, but I'm guessing that New Zealand is also a relatively new country like Australia so this would be the reason why. Once I got back into the city, I decided to find my original location and then walk a few streets over. I remember one of the girls at reception talking about a place called 'Cuba Street' which was where all the bohemian and alternative shops lay, so I walked around looking for this street, which I found eventually, passing the Wellington State Library and the town hall. I didn't think too much to Cuba street. Maybe Melbourne has really set the bar high for cosmopolitan, multicultural, ethnic shops and restaurants, but the street that was supposed to resemble Camden Town left a lot to be desired. There were some sculptures running down the middle and a lot of surf shops and many restaurants with all different cuisines from around the world, but there certainly wasn't anywhere that I could get my necklace from that I wanted.

After walking the length of the street, I decided to head over to the Victoria Quay (I think it's called. I dislike not having the internet so I can double check these things). I parked up on a rock that had a drop down to the sea. There were cruise ships docked amongst pleasure boats and fishing boats and children in their school clothes going down a ladder to a flat platform at the bottom and from there jumping into the water. There were people in rowing boats going back and forth in the distance and I sat here for a little while enjoying the sunshine on my back before walking the length of the waterfront until I found the museum which my Dad said would be a good place to go. However by this point it was 4:30pm and most museums close at 5pm, so I committed the location to memory so that I could visit another day and headed back through the maze of streets trying to find a souvenir shop that I'd passed earlier in the day but had no idea whatsoever as to where it was located. I was exceptionally chuffed with myself when I found it first go!

After I bought myself a necklace from here made of New Zealand pearls, I decided that I was quite bored of the city. It was coming up to that funny time of the afternoon where it turns to evening and the only thing to really do was travel home or find a bar or restaurant, and I didn't fancy either of the latter options because I had food to cook for dinner and I had wine also. I found Featherstone Street, which earlier I'd clocked as being one of the streets you could exit the station onto, and followed the masses back to the station in full realisation that I was about to join the commuter traffic on the train. When I reached the station, I realised that I needed to get to Plimmerton, but had no idea which train I had to get on as they only had the name of the last stop next to the platform number. I quickly checked my timetable and jumped on the train to something (everywhere has funny native names that you have to say with a weird accent. In my head, everything is Kia Ora).

I managed to board the train just as the doors were closing. I quickly asked a lady if this train went to Plimmerton and she ummed and arred and eventually said 'I think so'. The trains have steps inside which lead from the main walkway down to the doors to exit onto the platform, so I sat down on one of these and hugged my bag close to me. As we began moving, it suddenly hit me that this train was the Kia Ora EXPRESS, which is why the lady wasn't sure as to whether the train was going to Plimmerton. Although my ticket allowed all day travel on any train, I wanted to catch the sunset and didn't like the idea of riding the train for an hour to Kia Ora to have to ride it back into the city to catch a different train that actually went to Plimmerton. From what I gather, stations lie on a sort of, A B C set of lines and you can't get from the C line to the B line without going back to the start and riding on the B line all over. I figured there was little I could do about it and sat there watching out the window trying to see if I recognised any of the stops, but typically, I was sat on the other side of the train, so of course I didn't recognise anything! We flew straight through so many stops that I resided to the fact that I was going to have to ride the train back. But very luckily, it did stop at Plimmerton.

I did the long walk back to Moana Lodge and quickly threw some wine into a Coke bottle I'd acquired in the city, donned by big woolly sheep fleece (I'm so glad I bought it!), and headed out. Right near the lodge, there is a small boating facility with a boating club and lots of private boats stored there. Near the runway that slopes down so you can plunge your boat into the water, there was a little walkway that jutted out the side, so I walked down to the end of that, looking over my shoulder the whole time in case this was private property. I sat there with my camera and my wine for a good hour and a half and watched the sun fall from the top of the sky, all the way down to behind the island that you can see in the distance that is tall with just a few trees on the right hand side. I watched the sky turn from bright haze into soft pale blue into grey into dusk whilst sipping my wine and always watching the tide in case it came in too fast and I got trapped.

When I stood up to come back to the lodge, I realised that due to not having any dinner yet, I was almost drunk. It was also getting quite cold, so I hurried to do the two minute walk (I do love the proximity!), and came back inside to cook my tea. Following this, still tired from the red wine, I put on my jimjams and went to bed, watching an episode of Friends, Peep Show and ending with Father Ted, or Bed Ted, which has become the routine whilst out here. All of these programs I find very comforting, especially in times where I'm feeling lonely. Last night these feelings were frequent, just with the impending birthday and me missing everyone at home and wishing I was there to celebrate with my friends.

The one thing that I did learn yesterday was that I really am glad that I'm staying here at Moana Lodge. Even though the distance is a pain in the bum, I think I'm experiencing a little more of New Zealand than I would have in a hostel in the city. I know that I'm going to miss out on a lot of the touristy things, but ever other destination I go to I'll be right in the middle of the action playing the tourist. At least here, it's a beautiful place to turn twenty five and it offers me so much chance for introspection and relaxation.

Rain rain, go to hell!

Wednesday.
I woke up after around eleven hours of much needed sleep to a text from Melbourne Mikey, who had great concern about if I was okay after the earthquake the previous night. Of course, I knew nothing about it, and there was no visible evidence and I found this quite funny, the fact that I'd slept right though it. I'd been bitten on my left elbow and the palm of my hand, so after five minutes of brutal scratching, I broke free to take a look on how the day was outside so as I could go ahead and plan my activities. Unfortunately, when I stepped outside, there was gale force winds and torrential rain bearing down on the green hills. I retreated inside, soaked after two minutes, but this upset me greatly. After all, I had no food, and I had to walk more than 2kms to get any. 2kms would have been unbearable in that weather.

I phoned my mom, and together my sister and I looked for places I could possibly move to over the weekend that would be city centre located and much more practical for me considering I didn't have a car. But we couldn't find anything that wasn't a complete dive or booked up or both. I said goodbye an hour later feeling even more disheartened about the whole thing, and started watching some TV shows on my netbook to pass the time and help ignore the problem.

The sky outside began to get brighter and there was even a spot of sunshine through the curtains, so I seized the opportunity once the rain had stopped and decided it would be a good idea to head out in search of food. I asked at reception how far the supermarket was but they told me I wouldn't be able to make it on foot and I'd need to walk to the train station, catch a train, then head back and do the walk home. I didn't fancy this one bit, so I headed to the train station and followed the tracks, along a duel carriage way for about half an hour. And I found the supermarket, "New World". I tried to plan meals and bought as much as I could fit into my rucksack (including two bottles of wine. I had to). My cards, all three of them, all declined, but I have a feeling this was something to do with the fact that the pin pads needed you to swipe, when they're all chip and pin. I drew some money out and headed back. By this point, the winds had really picked up and it took me a lot longer to walk back into the wind with all the stuff on my back. At one point, it seemed near impossible as I was striding forward with all my might, and just not gaining any ground.

The annoying thing about the walk back to Moana Lodge is from three quarters of the way from the village, you can see your destination quite clearly, but the way you have to follow the meandering coastline means that you're not nearly as near as you think you are. Like how an S shape is far longer than a straight line. I got back. Sweat pouring down my face and the lady at reception was genuinely surprised that I'd made it. I put my things away in the kitchen in the little baskets provided and sat down outside with a nice bottle of vanilla Coke that I'd treated myself to. It was virtually tea time by this point, and my lack of lunch and taxing walk home meant that I was hungry, so I headed into the kitchen to begin cooking my burrito tea.

The kitchen is big and lovely and clean with all the utensils and cutlery and pots and pans. However there was a German family staying here and they're kids were running and weaving all around you, which isn't good when you're trying to carry knives to the sink to be washed. The Father of the children, to my horror, gave one of the children, who can't have been more than seven years of age, a box of matches and laughed and clap whilst the child took each match from the packet and struck it upon the side before throwing it into the sink. This complete lack of regard for those around and their child's safety meant that I was so close to saying something to them, but luckily my Dad called so I disappeared into my room in order to speak to him.

After dinner, I took a little stroll outside to see if there was anywhere nice that I could sit and watch the sunset, but it was bitterly cold with the wind. So I gave up on that idea and headed back to the lodge, where I poured myself a glass of wine and sat reading in a comfy armchair in front of the window facing the sea for the rest of the evening.

Wellington. Nicer than Wellingborough.

My apologies to everyone who checks my blog.

At the hostel, I found that I just didn't have the time to write. As soon as you sit down, somebody you know comes over and talks to you and asks you if you fancy doing this or that and you just have to go along with it.
I was having a drink one night with some of my friends that I'd made on the first night and I got talking to someone who'd just moved in. Micheal, a gay guy from North London who is studying at the University of East Anglia and currently doing a semester abroad at the University of Melbourne. We hit it off immediately and as my wine was running low and he didn't have anything with him to drink, I asked him if he wanted to go and find a club. Basically after a crazy night getting home at 4am we spent most of our time together for the rest of the week. Visiting places and having lunches and going out in the evenings and he made my time at Habitat hostel very bearable! It was very sad when we had to say goodbye to one another on Monday night but I really hope that we'll keep in touch, especially once he returns back to London in the Summer.

I'm in Wellington now and I will be able to update more regularly as I'm on my own.

So yesterday. Which was the first of March.

I woke up at 4am. I hadn't had a lot of sleep as the girls in my room had had a lot of fun during the night rustling plastic bags, which is my new pet hate. Then my Dad accidentally called my phone at 1:30am so I was very tired once I woke up. I went and had a shower and packed up my things and was downstairs ready to check out and wait for my shuttle bus by 5am. I was a little sad to leave Habitat hostel. I realised that I'd had some good times and I knew my way around the St Kilda area. But I was also terribly excited to be heading to my dream destination of New Zealand. As I waited outside for the bus, the usual prostitutes were still patrolling the street which made me think that if it were a normal night, Mikey and I would probably still be out drinking and just coming back with one of our kebabs that we used to treat ourselves to in the small hours of the morning.

Melbourne airport was dead. I had an expensive breakfast which was delicious. Buttery, fluffy scrambled eggs on toast and a pain au chocolate toasted just enough so that the rich chocolate oozed out all over my hands and got all over my face. I made my way to the gate and laid my things out on the chair using them as a pillow. The flight was running late so I decided it would be a good time to give people from home a quick call as my minutes are set to renew on the 3rd I believe. When I boarded the plane, I was sat right at the back in my requested seat (I wanted to be at the back to that I could take pictures without the wing being in the shot). It was a small plane, 29 rows with three seats each side. The last three rows, both sides of the plane, were filled with a Vietnamese tourist group on their way to tour New Zealand. Among those 18 seats, there was one with a white English speaking tourist. And that was me.

The flight was a breeze. Literally. As we came into land, the wind really picked up and the ride got very bumpy. We flew in over Nelson and the Malborough Sounds (the view I got of those from the sky was absolutely amazing). We came into land over the sea and you basically passed over a road and there was the runway, with either a sea or a large lake on the other side of the runway (I could see this would be a great place for accidents to happen!). The airport itself was based in a bay with lots of green hills and houses that I could see nestled within. The man at immigration was the friendliest guy on a border that I've ever met! Asking me about university and my job and telling me just to look after myself being a single female traveller. It was very refreshing and a nice way to be greeted into the country. My shuttle was right outside the doors once I'd passed through security, so I grabbed some money from the ATM to pay for my accommodation and off we went.

I was pressed up against the glass the whole way. The city itself didn't really look like much. It could have just been Melbourne. Grey, populated. But as we left, we began running along by the sea and climbing up hills with beautiful green forests all around and houses built high up in them.  The city reminds me of a sea side down, with lots of different coloured homes made of wood with balconies and decking attached.
Plimmerton is around 20kms outside the city of Wellington, so as we drove closer to that, the scenery became more and more beautiful. Somebody who lives here would probably tell you that it's not very nice here at all, but it is in my eyes. The houses on Moana Road are all different colours and different styles and all in layers as you head up the hills. Moana Lodge is a big white wooden building among all the houses with hills behind it and the sea just in front, with a little small sandy beach and patches of vibrant volcanic rock.

I checked in and was shown all around. I'm on the ground floor with one other bedroom and a bathroom that we share. There's a dining area, a large kitchen, and a living area with the most breath taking view of the sea and islands in the distance. Apparently on a clear day you can see right across to the South Island. There's a cute little courtyard outside too which I think would be a lovely place for a glass of wine if you caught a nice evening. Even though there is a road outside, it's still so lovely and peaceful here. Which is a good job, seeing as it's such a hassle to get into Wellington city itself, I will be quite happy spending a lot of my time just here. There's a lot of beaches and hills that I can explore on foot.

I don't think that any written description of this place that I give would do it justice. I can't upload any pictures while I'm here because the wireless internet does have a hefty charge attached so you'll just have to wait.

The only downside about this fantastic place is the fact that it's a 2km walk to the nearest village and a 5km walk to the supermarket, and this upset me very greatly. I dumped my things and took a walk to the village to get some takeout. I bought a bottle of water and some fish and chips and walked it the whole way back to the lodge and found a bench just outside facing the beach where I sat and had my supper, joined by a whole flock of seagulls pacing back and forth and just waiting for me to drop a chip. I really wanted to watch the sun set but the clouds began to keep in, so I could only see the sunshine get less bright as it faded into night time.
I came back to my room and got into my pyjamas and watched a film until I fell asleep, listening to the wind howling and the sea bashing on the rocks outside. Wellington definitely lives up to it's "windy city" title.

Apparently during the night, there was an earthquake of 4.5 magnitude, but I must have slept through it...