Happy Halloween!

I'm off to the land of Tasmanian Devils and wombats and probably some other types of Halloween-related things.
No real plans. No bookings. Just some money and underwear and a name of a statewide bus service.

Kelly landed in the hospital with another case of what is an unconfirmed but suspected case of inflamed intestines. She also had a fever and fainted twice while we were in the ER. The bout of pain subsided gradually over 12 hours and has not returned, she is able to walk and talk with no trouble. Due to issues with insurance and the lack thereof, she is currently not in the hospital with plans to check in within the next few days after her new coverage plan kicks in. While I'm abandoning her in Melbourne, she will be staying under the care of a friend.

Pauline, Pauline

With the final day of classes tomorrow, we conclude the course on Australian history with the recent controversies surrounding one miss Pauline Hanson.

For anyone unfamiliar with her career in politics, here's a very brief rundown:
Hanson created the One Nation Party, which was established as a corporation and run by the company/party directors instead of through democratic process. She was elected to office and gave a speech including racist statements on the threat that Australia would be "swamped by Asians." There was a significant amount of public support and protest after her election, and Hanson was one of the main figures in the Australian media between 1996 and 1998. Later, she was convicted of election fraud. And recently she's remained in the spotlight on "Dancing with the Stars" and back in the political sphere in '07 when she trying to launch yet another new party.

A Day with Flat Isabella

A friend recently e-mailed me about one of her students who is taking part in a 50 states class project modeled after Flat Stanley. They were going to start the project in November, but this student has Juvenile Myelomonocytic Leukemia so my friend sent out e-mails to try and get responses quickly.
Instead of printing out the photograph of Isabella, I drew her myself so that she could be more comfortable. It is, after all, not quite the right weather outside for the long sleeved shirt and pants she was wearing. Hopefully she likes the new outfit.

We hopped on the tram and spent Saturday wandering around around town to see the sights.

Once we got into the CBD, we went to Federation Square. There just so happened to be an Indonesian festival going on when we got there. Performers had been flown in from various islands in Indonesia to dance and play music. We sat and watched for a while under the warm sun. There were intricately designed costumes and plenty of beautiful dances.



Just across the street was Flinders Street station. It's a train station and one of the landmarks for Melbourne--seemed like another good place to show Isabella.

Then we crossed the bridge over the Yarra River. There's a ferris wheel in a park along the river, but we didn't have a chance to go for a ride. We did, however, take a brief trip to the Queen Victoria Gardens and smell some roses.

We finished off the day with a visit to the Melbourne Theatre Company. It was the last day of the International Arts Festival and there was a play I really wanted to see. Thankfully, she didn't mind coming along. We took a picture outside the theater with my sister and Stephanie who are both visiting from Seattle. Then I hid Isabella in my bag and snuck her in so she didn't have to pay for a ticket. There certainly are benefits to this method of traveling...

We saw the Apocalypse Bear Trilogy. It wasn't the most appropriate choice for a 2nd grader, so Isabella stayed in my bag. I loved the play with all of its oddities and eeriness.

Throughout the play there was plenty of humor and even a song sung in a school cafeteria. The three sections all involved the bear showing up, doing things such as preparing after school snacks and offering to pick up groceries, but then the bear would burst into a fit of his violent personality. We never saw him kill anyone, but he spoke of death in gory details. Overall, a very strange but intriguing play.

Prom

On Friday, the Melbourne University Food Co-op hosted a prom as a fundraiser. Australian schools don't have proms, so the turnout was quite large considering the minor amount of advertising at Uni Melb. Most of the people there knew about it through word of mouth from excited hippies who had never been to a prom.


Most people were decked out in secondhand formal wear, but there was a vast array of outfits ranging from '80s wear to modern gowns and suits and even a bear costume. Men in dresses, women in suits, genderqueers in whatever they wished, and mixtures of all the aforementioned. I picked a couple roses from our garden before heading out and tied them in my hair.

I perhaps put far more effort into this prom than any of my previous ones. Earlier in the day I was running errands. Upon passing by an op shop, I thought I'd look for some new shoes. So I spent a little while in the store dancing, jumping and jogging around to test out a few pairs. One pair seemed comfortable enough...

Later that night, walking several blocks to the prom, my feet started to hurt. It wasn't soreness and it eventually turned into significant pain. Even after I went shoeless, the blisters on my feet prevented dancing from being much fun. Thankfully (though perhaps not so much) the music played wasn't very good. Live bands performed bad covers of '90s songs.

My date had to work late, so she met up with us at the after party. I'm sorry not to have photos of her in a beautifully tacky red dress.

54 years old, man

I only remember my parents' birth years because of Chinese restaurants. For the first ten-odd years of my life, one restaurant in particular served as almost a second home. Though the paper zodiac placemat always read the same, it never failed to interest me. Mom was a monkey. Dad was one before: a Ram.

With that story, here are Kelly and I wishing our dad a very

Bach Organ

For almost 16 consecutive hours on Sunday, musician Calvin Bowman played the entirety of Bach's organ works at the Melbourne Town Hall.

This was yet another part of the Melbourne International Arts Festival. Though, Bowman resides in the state of Victoria, so I don't believe internationalism is necessarily a criterion.

He started playing at 8am and continued on through to 12:40am. There were only several short breaks scheduled during this feat for rest and meals.

Color-changing lights lit the 32-foot organ at Town Hall in all of its splendor. At times it glowed red, then shifted to a light blue or green. There is only so long my interest can remain piqued by one man with his back to the audience, and the shifting hues of the room made for additional observations. Some parts of the organ were only very visible in certain colors so each change was an opportunity to see more.

I attended just part of the performance for "Major preludes, toccatas and fugues II."
Take a listen, if you'd like. The video itself is unexciting for its entire duration, if at all, so I did not bother to make the dimensions large.

After the session of organ amazement, I went to the airport to pick up my sister. In addition to the long flight from Honolulu, she'd spent two days of her Hawaiian vacation in the hospital with inflamed intestines and was feeling ill. So we came home, she settled into the house and got some much needed rest.

Party

Yesterday was Jayt's birthday. One of her family's traditions is to have cake for breakfast, so I was up late baking the night before. I attempted to make them look like breakfast foods, but a failure to check for food coloring before shopping resulted in "eggs" with blue yolk.

In the afternoon, I went to the Antiverse (as opposed to "universe") Arts Market. It was located down an alley, in a squatted warehouse teeming with hippie punks. Just as I arrived, a man stepped on stage and started to perform tricks. He did some hat juggling and told jokes. Then he was assisted into a straight jacket, had a hat lit on fire and placed on his foot, after which he kicked the flaming hat into the air and caught it on his head. He escaped from the straight jacket and swallowed a curved blade sword for his last trick.

Jayt and I wandered around the market for a while. In a hippie fashion, there was free dumpstered food to eat and fabric flowers adorned a swing that hung from the rafters. The more punk aspects included a DIY tattoo station and numerous anarchist zines.

After the market, we went to a thrift store down the road in search of outfits to wear to prom next week. While I was perusing through racks of evening gowns, Scarlet and Erin came into the store looking for dresses as well. That night we were hosting a party. With the newly acquired dresses, we decided to make it a formal event.

Preparing for the party was incredibly fun. It had been secret project for the week, involving sneaking around three housemates and several late nights of work.

On Friday, after trolling up and down Sydney Road for supplies from all of the little random goods stores, I was so excited about the balloons that I inflated one as I was walking home--which made many other pedestrians stare and smile. Over the course of 24 hours, I think I got relatively good at the craft.

Hiding the pinata from Jayt was difficult. I had to move it from place to place, depending on when she would be home and where she may or may not go within our house. Considering how massive the dinosaur ended up, moving it became more difficult as the project continued. In the end it was hidden in my closet for everyone to find as the finale for the treasure hunt.

People were hesitant to whack the dinosaur. (I think this was because they were impressed by the craftsmanship.) After it was broken open, Jayt slipped inside the opening and wore it as a costume. Then we lit sparklers and ate cake.

Arts Festival Events #2

A friend double booked herself for the evening and was needing to unload a ticket to Körper. My original plans were to see a different show, but the German modern dance performance was calling.

The stage was bleakly set. There was a black tiled floor and a freestanding wall with a window. The music, as well, was minimal. It was reminiscent of sound effects, not so much melodic.

Parts of the show were spectacular. The group had amazing choreography in blending with one anothers' bodies. They lifted men into the air with the slightest of touches. Figures seamlessly wove in and out of the crowd. One man's legs became those of his partner, then the pair switched and her legs were his. It was all quite poetic and strange.

One of my favorite parts of the show was a scene taking place entirely within the wall window. Two women started in the window. They slowly moved to make room for two men, then two more, then even more. As it grew crowded, the dancers inched their way around and between the others. Using the glass and the wall, some of them rose to the top of the frame, all the while appearing to not be standing or holding onto anything.

There almost always tends to be an annoying patron or two who, for whatever reason, decided to see a show they clearly weren't going to enjoy. This time, the two men
were directly next to me. First, they had forgotten to turn off their cell phones. When the first man's mobile rang, his friend acted quite high and mighty. A couple minutes later, his phone rang too. They continued to talk, fidget and finally ended up standing up, stepping on the seats and exiting from the row behind. Now, these were relatively old men and were not at all graceful or speedy in their departure. Instead, one of them kicked my seat as he stumbled over the back of his chair.

After Körper, I headed over to Federation Square to see the end of Mary and Max--my original plan for the evening. I joined the group sitting on the cobblestone and watched the last half hour. It was cute and visually appealing. Perhaps I'll go back to see the first part another day.

There was also an installation at Federation Square with six young rappers from Sudan, Liberia and Tanzania. Though the video that goes with their music is slow, repetitive and not that interesting anyway, the teenagers' lyrics are insightful. Some of the topics I was already familiar with, but hearing them in this medium was interesting.

Arts Festival Events

Fringe ended on Sunday. The Melbourne International Arts Festival started Friday. For three days, the city was buzzing with both opening and closing weekend art shows.

Sunday evening I went to events at both. First was the International Arts Festival's bell-related trilogy. They had organized cathedrals and other buildings in the CBD to ring their bells in song at 7pm. I was too far from the activity to hear, but others' accounts made it seem no different than the usual chimes.

The Federation Bells are computerized to play songs on their own several times each day, but for the weekend Strange Fruit, a performance group, climbed onto poles and manually played the bells at sunset. As it grew darker, silhouettes of swaying figures against the sunset became lit from a golden glow underneath. Men and women clad in bright red swayed in all directions to ring different bells, even bending almost upside-down to reach the lowest ones.

The first couple songs were similar and a little too slow to remain interesting through the end of the second composition. Drums were brought in for the third, which had a quicker pace and I felt better blended the various pitches into one work.

After the show at Federation Bells, my friends and I headed out for a quick meal and then to Alexandra Gardens for a performance by Transe Expresse. The group wove medieval theater, circus and music to create "Ringing the Bells." It started by performers running with torches through the audience to platforms spread around the garden. From the platforms, the performers yelled in French accents at the surrounding viewers. After several minutes of this, they would run off to replace a performer on one of the other platforms. The costumes were stunning, yet peculiar, and gave off a creepy medieval aura.
Below photo by Xhanatos














All of the performers then rushed to their instruments on the center stage, which was then raised into the air far above the audience. They stood on hoops and small platforms, playing music from the sky as the structure spun like a mobile. During the show, the tent-like structure appeared to bloom, raising and opening the petals that held each of the musicians. All the while, three women did tricks on trapezes and ropes suspended in the center.

My final venture of the evening was a show at Bar Open in Fitzroy. The concept of "Guitar Relay" interested me: fifteen guitars were set up for musicians to use in improvising a song. The idea was that one person would start playing, a second would join in, then a third, and so on. If you initiated this with a group of people who know each other well and have practiced, I imagine it could be good. This was not.

Six or seven men sat on the floor of the bar with guitars resting sideways on their laps. One stood, playing his electric guitar with a violin bow. The others struck one or two chords at a time, letting the reverb carry the sound and fizzle out before playing more. Behind the men was a projection of astral images overlapped by the bar scene being recorded and modified on the spot by a man moving the camcorder from side to side on a tripod. Every few minutes one of the players would start playing a riff that was actually enjoyable, but it never lasted long and the screeching noises would take over. I tried to stay for a while to see if guitarists would change or the music would start sounding like music, but after 40 minutes little had changed besides the room beginning to empty.

Back Home to the Audley House

Back home. Lots of homework to do, friends to get together with and shows to see. For the sake of catching up with real time, I'll summarize the week.

Over the course of my first day home, our white board slowly gained more writing and drawing. It began when Jayt saw the clean kitchen in the morning and was later drawn on by Scarlet upon seeing photos of my bungy jump.

I got back into being domestic the next day by shopping and making a seitan stir fry with sushi for dinner.

The next few days were spent working on a significant amount of classwork, with several breaks of art events and getting together with people.

Sunday I upheld my regular visit to the Victoria Markets for produce. There happened to be a cooking demonstration because it was Asian Food Week. I had arrived at the markets early, so I sat and watched while waiting for the time when vendors slash prices.

Later that night, I went with friends to see Hannah Gadbsy perform a stand-up show at Trades Hall for the Fringe Festival. After the show we walked down Lygon Street and had dessert at one of the cafes.

Monday I had lunch with Carmel, my former homestay host.

Tuesday we had a large group of friends over for dinner. I used cooking as an excuse to take a break from working on my assignments. Thus, our guests ended up feasting on a variety of Greek dishes. (SIDE NOTE: HAYMERCHANTS, I'VE ACHIEVED POCKETS IN 100% OF MY PITA.)

Wednesday I met April for storytelling night at Willow Bar. Three of the four storytellers were great. The fourth was either too drunk to tell a good story or just wasn't funny. He told the kind of humor that I, and many others who did not laugh, interpreted as simply crude for no reason other than shock value.

Thursday was minimally eventful. We had a substitute instructor in swing dance class and I was feeling rather uncoordinated after two weeks vacation.

Friday we went to another Fringe Show. The Last Gasp, hosted by Daniel Kitson, was a collection of short comedy, musical theater, and theater sketches, as well as combinations of the genres listed. Kitson was hilarious. He decided it would be fun for the man next to me to throw a milk crate at him and award prizes if the crate landed on his head. This activity occurred between each set in the show, to a total of seven times. By the end, the man had won numerous treats from both backstage and the convenience store that Kitson ran off to for the specific purpose of buying prizes. He also got a bottle of his choice from the bar. But this man did not want all of his treats, so he gave me and my friends all something from his loot.

Auckland 9.30.2009

I started off my last day in Auckland by walking to the Auckland Domain. Along the way was the original cemetary of the city. It was only used between 1842 and 1886, shortly after colonization when the need for a cemetary first arose. After the city was more developed, the CBD had grown to contain the cemetary and construction in the area destroyed many of the tombstones. Some of these stones have since been replaced, but throughout the cemetary there are piles of rubble scattered over the graves instead of the headstones they once were.

The domain contains numerous modern art sculptures spread around the park in fields between trees and forested areas. In the center of the domain are two greenhouses and fernery. The fernery contains New Zealand endemic ferns (of which there are 80) as well as some native species that are found in other countries as well.

Also in the domain is the Auckland museum. It has an overwhelming amount of information covering Maori and Pacific island heritage, white settler history, geology, ecology and dinosaurs—who doesn’t love dinosaurs?

Next, I headed through Albert Park to get to the Auckland Art Gallery. It had an exhibition of New Zealand painter Rita Angus as well as one with various works relating to Captain Cook’s arrival and the interaction of Maori with white settlers.

I finally headed off to the library for a look at an exhibition on “Jumping Sundays” in Albert Park in 1969. On Sundays during that year, Aucklanders upset over the Vietnam war gathered in the park for concerts and protest speeches. The name was coined because of the jumping, dancing and musical (read: hippie) methods of protesting the war.

I got to the airport well ahead of schedule. My flight was at 10pm, but being an international flight I got there a couple hours early. The entire place was near empty. It was actually rather eerie. Five people stood at the security checkpoint waiting for me to approach, and within seconds I was on my way to the gate with two hours to kill. I opted to spend the time browsing through duty free shops for absolutely nothing in particular. I compared prices between stores, calculated how much items cost in Australian dollars and in U.S. dollars, and learned about the region’s wine selection by an enthusiastic fellow in one of the stores. I ended up buying some gifts for my housemates and spent the rest of the time being bored and drawing on a note for them to see when they woke up in the morning.

My flight was amazing. For some reason Qantas has yet to give into the general mentality of not serving complimentary food to its passengers. On the three-hour red-eye flight they served dinner with drinks (incl. wine), a post-dinner tea and coffee, and ice cream for dessert.

Taupo 9.29.2009

Weather predictions had been for continuous rain, but when I woke up in the morning, sun was shining. I quickly gathered my things and headed out the door on my way to the bungy platform over the river. I was the second jump of the day, right after a couple doing a tandem plunge. A friendly man handed me a release form to sign (the “if I plunge to my death I will not sue” variety) and weighed me to appropriately prepare the cord. He made small talk and then commented on my outfit.

“You are aware you’ll be hanging upside down in a dress.”

I nodded and stated that I’d thought it through and decided I really didn’t care. The fact that this skirt was my adventure skirt did not come up. It had been with me for a variety of adventures and I’d decided to give it the responsibility of holding memories in its threads.

“Just making sure because not everyone realizes that, you know.”

He wrote my weight in red marker on the back of my hand and

sent me off to the platform. A group of teenagers from a day camp had

arrived while the man had prepped me, now they all stood by the edge of the cliff watching.

Two men were on the platform waiting for me. One cuffed my ankles and attached the cord. He asked if I wanted to touch the water and, if I did, how far in I wanted to go. There are many factors that affect the jump and he said I may not reach the water. Hearing this and accounting for some leeway, I said to let me go in up to the chest. The other man directed me to walk to the edge of the platform, but with the bindings around my feet all I could manage was a penguin-esque waddle. He told me to keep my arms over my head and to lean forward, not jump off the edge. He counted down. I leant. And I plummeted. I ended up missing the water, but the fall was still amazing.

Possibly the best way to start off the day, I followed it up with a visit to the local history museum, a walk through the gardens and another by Lake Taupo. On the other side of the lake is Mordor, or rather, the Tongariro Mountains, which I didn’t have time to visit. The gardens, however were beautiful. They contained azaleas, rhodedendrons, roses, lilies and plenty more all in bloom. There was one small “scented garden” meant for the blind. Instead of dozens of flowers that were very pretty but all smelled similarly, this garden was full of very different aromas: lavender, rosemary, roses, fennel and so on.

Taupo 9.28.2009

So I wanted to see more of the country than the area directly surrounding Auckland. The islands I visited in the Hauraki Gulf were to satiate my desire for hiking and the natural environment, Coromandel was for history, and the city itself was for culture. But New Zealand is known for its adrenaline thrills--skydiving, bungy jumping, snow sports, river rafting and so on--and so I headed down to Taupo.

An inexpensive bus service runs from the Sky City tower to all parts of the North Island. It took about four hours to reach Taupo from Auckland, during which time I napped and looked through brochures for the area. When the bus arrived, it started to pour. Needless to say, the weather wasn't quite ideal for a visit to the local gardens or a walk around town. I hopped over to a travel agency and had them call me a shuttle service to Orakei Korako.

The shuttle was quite enjoyable. It was an independent business and the driver had her baby in the van, who kept smiling at the passengers and enjoyed playing with her mother's second set of keys.

The thermal park was interesting. In the middle of the forest, geysers and silica terraces from 150AD had found a home. I had never before pictured that the two could go together. In my mind, the concept of scalding waters equated with minimal plant life because I thought it would be too hot for survival, but some varieties of fern in the park exist only in geothermal regions.

Steam warmed me up from wet clothes as I walked through the park among geysers and beautiful silica formations. The park was fairly small, but it still had a bit of everything. It even had a thermal pool in a cave--apparently only two are known to exist in the world. I ended my trip with a complimentary latte in the cafe.

When I got back to the hostel, another girl was sitting in the bed next to mine. We exchanged brief histories and travel plans. She had come down to go skydiving in the morning but was afraid it would get canceled because of the rain (which had happened that day). I was looking through my list of possible activities, which she thought was strange because it was pouring rain again. I went out with my umbrella and went for a hike.

I walked along the Waikato River to Huka Falls. The falls are not all that impressive visually, but the river provides 65% of the entire North Island's power generation with 11 hydro-electric stations along the river.

On my walk back, I stopped at a hot spring just off of the trail. Thankfully I hadn't unpacked fully at the hostel and my swimsuit happened to be in my bag. So I sat in the spring chatting to a Kiwi until dark.

Coromandel 9.27.2009

The Coromandel Peninsula, across the Hauraki Gulf from Auckland, was once a prime destination in New Zealand for its gold mines. Hundreds of people flocked there and towns established across the land. Now the gold is gone and so is much of the population. There are now mostly artists and fishermen on the peninsula. It is one of the country's largest providers of mussels and prawns.

Stepping into Coromandel Town feels like walking into the past. Only one small strip of restaurants and stores account for the downtown area and many of the buildings still stand from the 1800s. A local history museum sits just north of the main drag and consists of three rooms stuffed with relics and snippets of the old town. There was even a cabinet of rock and mineral samples from the old Coromandel School of Mines.

The visitors center provides a free guide of the historic buildings in town with a walking map and descriptions of the buildings' pasts. The walk includes churches, the old hospital, a gold mine (now a mine museum) and politicians' houses.

It appeared that the majority of people I saw on the streets had come across on the same boat as myself. If a person wasn't working behind a register or serving tables, they were just visiting. The entire concept felt peculiar. It was almost like walking into a historic village where everyone dresses up and speaks in olde English.

Toward the end of the day, everyone was walking around with ice cream cones. I was on my way to get a latte and sit in a cafe for the last twenty minutes before our boat left, but after a dozen people had passed by while licking ice cream in that particular swirl of the tongue motion that you only really do with ice cream cones... I followed suit and sat in the grass underneath a warm spring sun.

Waitakere & Te Henga 9.26.2009

There are several beaches in New Zealand with black sand. The nearest to Auckland are on the western side of the island, and city train service runs to the edge of the Waitakere Ranges. A hike through some forest on my way to the beach sounded like a great day.

However, the Waitakere train was the only train not operating that day. It was replaced by a bus service going along the same route, which took about half an hour longer than the train would have. The end of the route landed me in Waitakere city, a very small town that I had to walk through on the way to the coast. There weren't any information centers or hiking trails particularly close to where I reached the edge of the national park, so I walked on the side of a road that went through the ranges. There wasn't a clear footpath so every few minutes when I heard a car, I'd step into the little ditch off the pavement and wait until the car whizzed past.

Even with the cars, it was a pleasant hike through a peculiar mix of forest and farmland. I'd be walking along, admiring the trees and listening to parakeets when suddenly a lamb would interrupt with its loud bleating. There were also horses, cows, chickens and even a couple emu--but they weren't as plentiful or annoying as the sheep. Apparently, New Zealand has a very large wool industry.

After walking for about an hour and a half, the walk was no longer fun. I was getting annoyed by the farm animals and bored by the scenery. All of the trees and ferns looked just like what I'd seen miles before. So I got out my iPod, but the cars interrupted any zone I'd get into with the music.

After a while, a woman pulled up and offered a ride. I gauged the situation: Her daughter was in the backseat, and the floor had pieces of paper and various toys strewn about. I accepted her offer. They were going only a ways farther down the road, but she drove me all the way to the beach. The daughter was adorable. We had fun with the windy, hilly road and pretended it was a roller coaster. Her mother even drove faster over the hills to give us a bit of a jump.

Te Henga (Bethell's beach) was beautiful. Black sand mixed with golden sand, creating ribbons on the ground from the waves.

There was a small inlet on the beach that only the large waves would flow into. It formed a sort of lake around one of the hills and had its own little beach on the other side. Signs were posted to beware of quicksand. Admittedly, this excited me. So I waded into the pool. It felt like regular sand. There were some parts significantly lower than the surrounding sand, and a strong current flowed through this inlet sucking water back into the ocean. I took another step and felt my foot start to sink. It only enveloped my foot an inch or two above my ankle, so I kept going and made it out of the small patch.

The personal beach I had just reached did not have waves coming over the sand. It was an ideal location for a castle; rather, it was an ideal location for a dark lord's citadel. I decided that evil rulers need to have more representation in the realm of beach art. Some kids saw me on the little beach and waded over as soon as I left. A boy stepped very carefully inside the walls of the citadel while his sister stood by. It looked like they were going to play with or destroy it, but he simply stood inside the sculpture (perhaps pretending to rule?) and then went back into the water.

The walk back to the bus stop took about three hours. Some teenage boys whizzed by and shouted. They laughed after I jumped. Otherwise, the trek was uneventful.

Tiritiri Matangi 9.25.2009

Tiritiri Matangi island was colonized by the English in the early 1800s. The settlers claimed the land from the native Maori tribe because of its ideal location in the Hauraki Gulf for a lighthouse. Later, they used the island for farming.

It became government property and was named an open nature reserve in the 1980s. Since the designation, Tiritiri Matangi has been under a continuous restoration project to repopulate the island with native flora and fauna.

The island has been a success story for several species of birds, including the takahe (pictured right) and spotted kiwi. Though the kiwi is New Zealand's bird of national pride, their numbers are dwindling. The takahe, a relatively large, flightless bird, has an estimated population around 200.

The conservation efforts on Tiritiri have given both species a home with native food sources and free from predators. Several species of birds on the island have grown significantly in numbers and allowed for some of them to be relocated to parkland on the main island.

It was glorious hiking the island. Given it was a weekday and rainy in the morning, there were only a dozen or two other visitors. I ventured off on my own, taking note of the blue penguin nest boxes by the shore, and walked along the beach by the turquoise water. I made it to a boardwalk birdwalk and walked along the path. Every once in a while, there would be a small sitting area to watch the birds from. There were also signs posted with images and names of the various birds, so they were easy to identify.

The rain clouds blew away and made way for a sunny afternoon. As I continued hiking around the perimeter of the island, I came across a group of women who were admiring some of the flowers next to the path. They invited me to join them. Apparently, the five women were all tour guides. With the small group visiting that day, they were left without anything to do and opted to walk around themselves. As we walked along they continued to stop and point out recent acquisitions and changes to the plant life. After a while, I cut ahead of the group and continued on my own.

Rangitoto island & Auckland arts 9.24.2009

In the morning, my cell phone had somehow managed to revert to Melbourne time. I had missed the first boat to Rangitoto. So I ran off to the wharf and found out there was a little more than an hour before the next boat. To kill time, I opted to wander some more and came across an exhibition of design proposals for Queen's Wharf. There was an entire room full of these proposals created by citizens and architects alike. Everyone who visited was encouraged to vote on the designs and write comments to the artists to consider before the next round. It was interesting to see what type of designs people were interested in, and fun to think I may have had a part in the future of Auckland's cityscape.

Rangitoto Island, the newest and largest of the 48 volcanoes in the Auckland area, was once a popular vacation spot. People had baches (short for bachelor's house) and would escape the city life and/or family to go on holiday at their bach. These houses were deemed illegal use of the land when it became a scenic reserve, so now there are only a few, uninhabited ones left standing. There was also a jail on the island for Auckland area inmates. The prisoners did public service by building the restrooms, boardwalks and paths to the summit on the island.

Environmentally, the island had an interesting mix of things to take note of. There are typical volcanic features, such as heaps of aa and lava caves. Then there are gullies (with the rare kidney fern), open fields and forest. There is also an extensive amount of red dirt.

I hiked the path to the summit, though it was foggy and I did not expect to have a good view from the top. My assumption was correct, but the hike was enjoyable and allowed me to see how the different areas produced significantly different types of flora. Along the way I passed through the kidney fern gully, which was gorgeous. The fern is a ground cover, but also grows up tree trunks and covers them in a bright green, bubbly looking coat.

Though I did not have a flashlight, I also took a side trip to the lava caves because, well, I love spelunking. My plan was to just go a slight way inside and come back out, but then I realized I had my keys in my bag--and the keychain light that my father gave me a while back did the job perfectly. If they don't yet advertise "impulsive spelunking" on the package, they should.

Earlier in the day, at the wharf design exhibition, I had picked up an event brochure for Auckland's Heritage Week. So on the boat ride back to the city, I looked it through and found a free event to go to that evening. It was only a few blocks from my hotel, too. The event was highlighting High Street and included a small art exhibition and two folk musicians. I had arrived early, being of the impression that the show would start at the time specified in the little booklet (why wouldn't I assume that?) so I struck up a conversation with a very sweet Kiwi woman. Rather, she struck up a conversation with me and decided we should be friends for the evening. She was quite enamoured with some of my American snippets and told me all about her family's history, as well as some general Auckland history. The musicians were great. There was also free food, cake and wine. New Zealand really does make a good Sauvingon Blanc.