The view of Whangarei from Parakaki
I mention Whangarei because it was the first place I visited outside Auckland. On Friday 11th I headed north in a hired car for two hours, stopping only to avoid a lorry that had managed to overturn and block both lanes of traffic: the roads in New Zealand twist and turn wickedly, and are never level, with hills, mountains, valleys and forests in the way, making me extremely glad that I'd aborted the crazy idea of cycling round New Zealand before it had even got off the ground. I don't know if the rugged terrain is the excuse for the appalling quality of New Zealand driving, but it can't help.
I was visiting Whangarei on business, to help on a stand at a small education show with a newly appointed Acorn dealer, who needed help in getting to know the products and how to sell them. I met up with him at the show, managed to lock myself out of my car (NZ$25 later, I had the keys in my hand and felt a right wally), and met up with Sue and Mel, a lovely couple who looked after me and put me up in their house for the weekend (Sue's brother being the marketing manager at Acorn). The show was very quiet, but it was a pleasant weekend, and it all helped to fill the coffers. I also got to see what all the fuss is about: although the drive I did was far from scenic in relative terms, it was so luscious and green that I knew driving round New Zealand would be a wonderful experience.
The highlight of the weekend, though, was the election. I turned up in Australia just as the election was kicking in there, and a year later I arrived in New Zealand to find myself in the middle of party political broadcasts, election promises, and a fair splattering of confusion. The confusion was mainly because this election was the first MMP election (proportional representation to you and me), unlike previous elections, which had been run just like elections in the UK. MMP means everyone has two votes – one for the local MP, and another one for the party you'd like to see running the country – and most people I spoke to got quite confused when explaining the new system to a foreigner. None of this mattered, though, as Sue and Mel had some friends round on the Saturday night for an election party, so we all drank far too much wine, had a ball, and watched the results roll in (quite a fun experience when you know nothing about the personalities involved). I learned a hell of a lot about Kiwi politics as well as a lot about New Zealand, not least from a wonderful Dutch couple who had emigrated years ago, and had really lapped up the lifestyle1.
In the end the election ended up with no party having a clear majority, which meant the politics would keep on going while someone tried to form a coalition government. It all seemed a bit silly, really, especially as the chances were high that the party that got the most votes, the National party, wouldn't get into power because the third party (New Zealand First, a party lead by an MP who defected from National) held the balance of power, and almost definitely wouldn't want to form a coalition with National. Ah well, that's politics.
Rotary in Whangarei
My second visit to Whangarei was months later as I completed my trip round New Zealand – at least, in terms of returning to the starting point. I shot straight through Auckland to Whangarei, coming across the first real rush hour for months. Whangarei was hot and humid, but seeing Peter and his family again was worth the effort (I'd met Peter, the local dealer, on my previous visit). I discovered that mixing Kahlua and milk is delicious (and called a 'brown cow' by middle-aged Kiwis, though their children just look at them in despair when they tell you that), and after visiting schools with Peter all day, I was invited to a meeting of the Whangarei North Rotary Club. Now that was an interesting experience.
I've never really understood Rotary, simply because I've never really thought about it: I suppose I assumed that Rotary was another of these funny little clubs with quaint customs and a no-women policy. Of course, I was wrong on some counts – women can be Rotarians, as long as the members don't black-ball them, and the only clothing I could see was the chairman's chain of office – but at the end of the day there was plenty of formality and stuff.
All the more credit, then, to Peter and his Rotary friends, who were nothing if not interesting, friendly, and above all, laid-back. I suppose enjoying a Rotary meeting means that not only have you turned into your parents, you're doing a better job at being middle-aged than they are, but there's not many Pommy tourists who can say they've not only been involved in a Rotary club flutter down Christchurch casino and won, but they've also been to a meeting as an official guest. That's one more interesting and pleasant social experience to chalk up on the blackboard of life...
1 And the sense of humour. I must thank Hank, the male half of the couple, for my first taste of Kiwi humour:
Two paedophiles on the beach, one says to the other, 'Hey! Get out of my son!'
Well, I laughed.
