Anzac Day

It's 5:15am and the clock alarm has just gone off. Whilst this may not be that surprising for a working day, this is not one of them. Today, as is the case across the rest of New Zealand and Australia, is a national holiday. As I slowly get out of bed and wander into the kitchen, still shrouded in darkness, I do wonder why I have risen so early. Surely I'd have been better off having laid in bed longer, after all I get up early enough every day?

And I have done just that on previous occasions, dozing in bed, half-awake, listening to the sounds emanating from the Auckland Domain just a kilometre or so away. You see today, as the title of this post suggests, is Anzac Day. A day of remembrance for those who served and died in wars, conflicts and peacekeeping operations, and a day on which across the country, dawn services are held to commemorate the occasion.

So today, rather than luxuriating in bed, we've got up, quietly got dressed (or at least as quietly as one can in a house with no carpets and little in the way of acoustic suppression) drank our tea/coffee and set off through the dark streets up the hill towards the Auckland Domain.

Even now, as we walk through the eerily quiet streets of Parnell, I am wondering whether this is something that I should be doing. Isn't this a day for Kiwis? What can I, as a British Citizen and a self confessed pacifist, add to the occasion? Is this really meant for me? I'd hate to impose. I decide, rather lazily, that as I'm out of bed and dressed, there's only one way to find out.

Slowly, as the streets give way to bushes and trees, we are joined by others and by the time we reach the top of the hill, and the illuminated Auckland Museum comes into view, it's clear that we are not alone. Not by a longshot. The museum and the sacred ground in front of it, is surrounded by a crowd of people, hundreds if not thousands, who have come to join the service. It is quite a sight and surrounded by darkness, the museum looks spectacular bathed in red light, as does the Skytower on the horizon.

But I'm still unsure as to whether I should be here......

I didn't have to wait long to find out.

Within moments of the service starting my thoughts turn to those in our family who sacrificed everything in the Great War and, as the Auckland Mayor Phil Goff so eloquently stated, fought for peace that they never got to experience themselves. It was then, just as a single tear rolled down my cheek, that I knew that I belonged at the service. Whilst those gathered spoke about New Zealander's and Australians that sacrificed their safety for the service of their country, I thought about others around the globe that, even as we stood there, were engaged in conflict on some foreign field, town city or sea.

And with that, came a feeling of frustration at the futility of it all. What's the point in fighting for peace only to find it given up so cheaply and with little thought of the lessons that history has taught us? I'm sure that if our ancestors could do so, they would turn up and clip us around the head for being so careless. And we would deserve it....and then some. Even from the relative safety of New Zealand, the world seems a much more unstable place and...... I'll stop there, I'm getting angry and this is not the time nor the place.

By the time the Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern laid a wreath and the Last Post sounded across the field, my single tear had been joined by others and I'm thankful that I'm hidden by the cover of the darkness. But light isn't far away now, the sun is starting to rise over the Hauraki Gulf, silhouetting Rangitoto as it does and bringing the Tuis in the trees to song. As the last of the stars fade into the daylight, it's clear that it's going to be a lovely day and a smile breaks out across my face.

I had made the right choice, whats a few less hours out of bed. Besides, I can have a lie-in tomorrow. How does 6am sound? Perfect!

Out of Time

I think I might have to admit that I was wrong. I know, shocking. Having now been given a fresh perspective, and fresh being the key word here, perhaps The Gold Coast does has its charms after all.

We arrived back into Auckland in the early hours of yesterday morning, never a good time to arrive anywhere it has to be said, with the temperature barely above ten degrees. Or to give it its correct meteorological term, Bloody Freezing. How can that be? In a short space of time, a relatively quick three hour flight, we went from the balmy evening weather of The Gold Coast to a city where autumn was in full swing. Our attire of shorts, t-shirts and sandals seemed incongruous with our surroundings. Still it was the middle of the night so the cool weather was to be expected I suppose, and there wasn’t anyone around to wonder why we so poorly dressed. Tomorrow would be better.....

We learned, from a knowledgeble taxi driver on the way from the airport, that Auckland had recently been hit by an unexpected storm. Lashed with heavy rain and winds in excess of 100kph the city had taken a real battering. Trees were down, windows smashed, traffic lights at intersections off causing misery for weary commuters and over 150,000 homes were without power - a far cry from the late summer weather that we had left behind just shy of two weeks ago. 

Although the storm had now officially passed through the next day wasn’t much better, our moods no doubt further dampened by being back in work and ever so slightly jetted-lagged. Whilst the day was reasonably without incident, leaving the office was a real shock. Who turned out the lights? Ahh, of course, daylight savings. Whilst we had been happily travelling around Australia, New Zealand had taken the time-honoured step of taking an hour off the clocks and in doing so, plunged the city into near darkness for the commute home. At least the farmers in Scotland will be happy.

Throughout my journey home, people scurried from bus shelter to shops, their coats wrapped tightly against the still present wind and bouts of rain. Shop frontages reflected hazily in puddles of water on the pavement, enticing commuters into their premises to buy that last minute bargain. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was mid-April, one could be easily tricked into thinking we were on the approach to Christmas!

It has to be noted, however, that this weather is unseasonably cold due to a southerly wind bringing cold air up from the Antarctic but knowing that didn’t make it any warmer. Equally, whilst temperatures in Auckland struggled to stay above 15 degrees yesterday, there were part of the South Island that were enjoying their first bout of snow. Again, knowing that didn’t make it any warmer for us Aucklanders. 

Stepping off the plane yesterday really does feel like we stepped into another world. The modern-day equivalent of stepping through a wardrobe into Narnia. Thankfully it isn’t expected to last and in a few days the fast moving system will have cleared and temperatures will be returned to their seasonal levels, daily highs of 20 degrees with evening lows around 15, so it’s not quite time to put away the shorts just yet.  Frankly it couldn’t come soon enough. In the meantime, I’ve got photographs from The Gold Coast to keep me warm....well those and a fleece jumper and woolly socks!

The Gold Coast

If I was ever wondering what a Sim City city would feel like in real life then I couldn’t have come to a better place than the Gold Coast in Australia. Although that is not why we came to the Southern East of Queensland - we came here to watch some of the Commonwealth Games - it was certainly a fantastic opportunity to see how a purposely built city would look and feel. Kind of like Milton Keynes but with sunshine.

Firstly, everything is spookily modern and easily accessible. The newly constructed tram whizzes up and down the coast whilst buses fill in the gaps that the tram doesn’t serve. Cycleways line the boulevards and offer an ideal way to get around the short distances from amenities. Tall high rise buildings line the coast like modern sculptures, as if in worship to the seemingly ever present sun. Looking out towards the city and the many towering residential appartments, it’s hard to believe that this area was once favoured as a secluded holiday destination and has only recently boomed, well since 1875 anyway. With bars, restaurants, casinos, amusement parks and other resort paraphernalia its hard to imagine a more less-tranquil place. If you catch my drift.

Thankfully, and through good luck rather than good management, we chose the more secluded part of the city in which to base ourselves for the few days that we were here. Perched high up on the 14th Floor of a resort complex it offered an almost bird’s-eye view of the city and the hustle and bustle below. Add to that a (partial) view of the sea it was the perfect spot to retreat from the noise. And to see how the city-planners had mapped out the city. 

If this all sounds rather negative, it’s not meant to be. It’s just that as Europeans, being brought up on history and culture, The Gold Coast couldn’t seem further from home. It would be a great place to spend a week with kids if the sea and sunshine were you’re thing. Equally, one could imagine retiring here for the perfect climate and convenience of amenities. And, despite this not being our kind of place, as a work colleague warned beforehand, we have a great time. Our days soon settled into a pattern; early morning strolls along the beach as waves crashed onto the shore or leisurely runs along the coast, a dip in the pool to cool off, followed by breakfast from our crow’s nest of an apartment. An early lunch at the local beachfront cafe followed by a snooze before finally getting ready and heading off to the Commonwealth Games. With that kind of itinerary, one could easily see why living here would be ideal. Just don’t expect to have easy access to any culture or history. And if that comes across as though I’m a pompous-Pom then I apologise, but would like to add that just as the sun, sand and sea are part of some people’s upbringing, then culture and history are part of mine. That doesn’t make it right or superior just different.

As for the games? Well as far as the home nations go, and I’m looking at you England particularly, it hasn’t been good. It’s not that we’ve let our Australian cousins take the majority of the medals, although that does sting a lot, we just didn’t seem to turn up. There were some outstanding performances but few and far between. This was only ever a side holiday for us, a quick getaway if you like, but for others getting to the games from the northern hemisphere comes at a great cost, financially and in time. And to not turn up is not good enough frankly. But that’s the age of media-driven sport I suppose. The pride of representing your country doesn’t have the attraction it once did when Olympic sponsorship is dangled as a carrot. 

Back in the really world, as I look down on the perfect Sim-City-made-real city, I start to wonder. Surely the tram would’ve been better laid along the coast rather than a few blocks inland? Maybe the cinema would’ve been better on the main land rather than on a linked island? How about a ferry service or a bridge across that harbour? Hhmmm. Give me a mouse and I’ll soon have it sorted. Sure there might be some disgruntled residents whilst I make the adjustments but they’ll get over it. Well they do in the game and I’m sure that this would be no different!

Way Out West

If Michelle Shocked had happened upon Western Australia prior to penning her popular ode to Alaska, she may very well have written about letters being returned to Kalbarri rather than the titular Anchorage. Western Australia, just as it is with its US counterpart, is the largest state in the union. Or more accurately, the largest Ferderated State in the Commonwealth of Australia. And at a smidge over 2.5 million square kilometres it not surprising that it’s by far the largest, covering nearly a third of the continent’s land mass. But that’s ok, with a population of a little over 2.3m there’s a lot of it to go around.

Of all of the interesting facts about this place, the sparcity became very apparent when we set off from Perth and headed up to our holiday destination in Kalbarri. It wasn’t the lack of other vehicles that really hammered this home, or the fact that there were very few signs of human habitation during the 500km trip. Instead it was the roadside signs warning drivers about the lack of water and offering advice on how much one should be carrying in order to travel through the state safely. Now you don’t get that in North Yorkshire. And why would you? North Yorkshire, the largest county in England, has an area of a little over 8,600 square kilometres and has a population of 1.2m. If one could pick up North Yorkshire, and I’m sure there are plenty around that wish it were possible, and drop it into Western Australia one could do that 292 times and still have room left over for Lancashire.

So with less than the specified amount of water on board, but plenty of beer and wine, we set off north towards Kalbarri. Making a few stops on the way for sightseeing and that great British tradition of second breakfast, meant that we couldn’t make the entire drive in a single day. Well, not if we wanted to only drive in daylight hours anyway. Yes, I realise that the car did have headlights but judging by the dead kangaroos on the roadside, travelling at night is not for the faint hearted. Well not if you happen to be driving the equivalent of a motorised skateboard. The car we chose for our journey may have been fine in downtown Perth, but looked decidedly weenie compared to the rest of the vehicles on the road. These looked they had just stepped out of a Mad Max film; covered in red dust, piled high with outdoor equipment and with huge radio antennae that look like they could make contact with outer space. Which is probably just as well because if they had been anywhere other than the coastal highway then survival comes at a heavy cost. Literally. So alongside these, and the huge road-trains that service the minining industry in this part of the world, our Hyundai i30 looked puny and we were pretty sure that if we came into accidental contact with a ‘roo then we would come off decidedly worse. So a night-time stopover it was. 

Tired, sweaty and a little dusty, we pulled off the main road into Cervantes. “Cervantes,” the guidebook boasted, “is a delightful coastal town with stunning beaches and grand vistas.” Well it was on the coast. And it did have fabulous beaches. But that is as far as our agreement with the guidebook went. More accurately, and I am being charitable here, the guidebook should’ve read “Cervantes is a windy hole of a town with sandy beaches that spend the entire time trying to enter any open orifice. The views are spectacular, or at least they would be if you could see them through the sandstorm.” Maybe we arrived at a bad time. Or maybe we were just tired and needed some comfort. Either way, Cervantes didn’t help. After an astonishingly good meal in the local tavern, we returned to bed and were back on the road again at first light. 

Pretty soon there was a decent amount of distance between us and Cervantes and with the open road in front of us, we covered the distance with remarkable ease. Having absolutely no traffic on the road, and not a single set of traffic lights, junctions or for that matter bends between us and our destination we arrived into Kalbarri in next-to-no-time. Well, okay nearly five hours but with a place this big that’s the equivalent of “just popping to the shops”.

Kalbarri is an entirely different proposition to Cervantes. Admittedly they do share one attribute; they are on the coast. But that is the only similarity. Where Cervantes appeared god-forsaken, Kalbarri is a thriving beach community with shops, restaurants, a tourist information centre, playgrounds and other community paraphernalia. With so much going on, it’s easy to forget that you’re hours from anywhere; surrounded by the Indian Ocean on one side and a semi-arid dessert on the other. How the Indian restaurant managed to serve up such fresh and delicious meals is one of the wonders of the modern world. 

Our one and regrettably only full day in Kalbarri has been jam packed. It started by watching pelicans being fed on the local reserve, segued into a wilderness walk to a local look-out (view point) closely followed by a dip in the pool, a short nap, snorkelling in the aforementioned Indian Ocean and we’re soon to set off to witness another spectacular sunset. Something that 90% of Australia doesn’t get to see. Just today we’ve seen pelicans, kangaroos (living ones!), a huge nameless lizard that wandered across our path, parakeets, and coral fish. 

It’s been so good, that we wish we could wake tomorrow morning and do it all again. Instead, we’re taking the short drive back to Perth, only this time with plenty of water. There’ll be plenty of stops on the way and who knows, there may be even time for a second breakfast somewhere down the trail. But not in Cervantes that’s for sure!