Creature Uncomforts

It can be at times a bit odd living in another country, even as one as welcoming as New Zealand. Even after all this time, we still get asked “How long are you on holiday for?” as people assume we’re vacationing Brits escaping the winter in the northern hemisphere. Admittedly, we get this more often in smaller New Zealand towns rather than the metropolis of Auckland, which is understandable as they are wondering how on earth a tourist could get themselves so far off the beaten track.

The second most asked question, once they’ve got over the shock that we’re not tourists but are actually tax paying residents, is “Why New Zealand and not Australia? Didn’t you fancy living in Oz?” If it wasn’t for the fact that Kiwis are so open and friendly, one could get quite upset by this line of questioning and take it as a plea to please leave at the earliest opportunity! Instead, when the question is asked, I suspect that they already know the answer and are simply offering a chance to confirm that the correct decision has been made.

But it’s a genuine question. Why New Zealand and not Australia? Why chose to come and live in a place that’s even further away, and has a climate that is not that dissimilar from the one we left? Having pondered the question on a number of occasions, the truth is that it never crossed our minds to live in Australia. New Zealand was the only destination. It could be that, having turned down offers of employment in New Zealand fifteen years ago, we had unfinished business here. Another probable explanation is that Australia was a too obvious choice to make or that it’s just too damn big. Maybe the thought of living in a nation that keeps beating us at our own sporting events was too much to bear. 

All of those are, retrospectively at least, good enough reasons to skip over that continent and set up shop in its nearest neighbour. But search a little further and the real reason is obvious. Death. Or rather the fear of sudden and painful death! 

It has to be said that the sheer number of things that want to kill or cause you serious harm in Australia is mind boggling. Snakes, spiders and sharks are the obvious ones. But what about saltwater crocodiles, box jellyfish and ants. Yes ants! The Bull Ant, if intimidated will rise up with their mandibles wide open ready to strike and may charge at you. They are also carnivorous so don’t sleep near one of their nests. Meat eating charging ants. Strewth!

In comparison, New Zealand is, on the whole, a fairly benign place. That’s not to say that you couldn’t come a cropper here, but you’d have to do something to warrant Mother Nature taking a swipe at you.

Take, for example, the climate. Up here in Auckland, ice and snow are unheard of and whilst it occasionally rains, you’re hardly going to have problems. Yes the sun is a little strong due to the lack of ozone, but it’s easy to address. I’m talking about sunblock. But with almost every establishment having free access to sunblock only an idiot or unwary tourist would forget. Forget to slap on the slop and you’ll be red-faced from more than embarrassment for the rest of the week. 

It’s the same with the landscape. New Zealand, it has been said once or twice, is a stunningly beautiful country.....except for perhaps Huntley, and most of it is easily accessible with the proper preparation. Stick to the marked paths, take the correct clothing and watch out for the weather and you’ll be fine. Try and cross the Tongariro in what amounts to beach wear and you asking for it. Just because it’s been in Lord of the Rings it’s still a mountain and with that comes the changeable mountain weather. 

Similarly, wander off the beaten track in the hills around Auckland and it’s not impossible to get into serious trouble. With little-to-no cell phone coverage it just takes a twisted ankle or a fall down a gully to get into a right pickle. Stay on the tracks though and you’ll be fine.

The same goes for the fauna. Apart from the very occasional shark attack - and one can only assume these were by sharks that were on their holidays from Australia - there’s nothing here that is going to cause you serious harm. There is one spider, the white-tail, that will give you a nasty bite but in four years of living here I’ve only seen two. Besides, even these were imported from Australia so can’t really be classed as Kiwi.

That’s not to say I haven’t had my run-ins with the local inhabitants or Aotearoa....

A few weeks ago, in my preparations to head off to work, I was hunting around for my shoes. A simple task made more difficult through lack of sleep. It had been a hot night so sleep had been at a premium and this game of seek the shoes had quickly become tiresome. Typically, they were exactly where I’d left them the day before - at the side of the bed.

I mumbled something and promised myself that I’d be more mindful in the future - a promise that even as the last word left my thoughts I knew I’d never keep. Tired but resolved I put my feet into my shoes, tied the laces and walked back to the kitchen to get my bag.

“For goodness sake,” I exclaimed, “there’s something in my shoe.”

There was obviously a twig or something in my shoe. Being tired, and by now a little late for the office, I really didn’t want to untie my shoes and fish out the offending piece of vegetation. I’d try to ignore it.....it was no use, it was really uncomfortable.

Sitting down again, I untied my shoe, took it off and gave it a good shake. Nothing. I must have imagined it. Ah well, at least I’d checked. I put on my shoe for the second time, re-tied the laces and set off towards the front door.

“Blast!” I said to no one in particular, “it’s still there!”

I slumped onto the floor and once again untied my laces and took off the shoe. I was going to have to have a good poke around to get the object out. I put my hand into my shoe and....something moved!

“F*ck!” I exclaimed as a large and probably confused Weta fell onto the floor.

The insect made a dart for the nearest dark hiding place - which must’ve been an improvement on my well worn shoe - whilst I went in search for clean underwear. It was fair to say that the day was not working out as I had planned. Finding a large insect in a shoe THAT BEEN INCHES FROM WHERE I WAS SLEEPING was not part of the plan for the day.

On the plus side, I was now totally wide awake as the shock had been like having a double shot espresso and a litre of Red Bull intravenously injected.

I definitely don’t want a repeat of that so shoes are now stored away from the bed and get a huge shake before I dare put my feet into them. Who knows what might be lurking down there. Probably not a snake but it doesn’t hurt to check.

So in answer to the question about living in Australia? If I’m so discombobulated by finding a large but harmless insect in my shoe, should I even consider living in a place where real danger really lurks? Tough choice. I’ll let you decide and get back to me. I’ll be in the bar keeping an eye out for any rouge insects whilst daubing myself liberally with sunblock.