nau mai - Maori term for welcome
Tauranga: At first glance, the colors of Port Tauranga are dark blue (the ocean), green (the plant life on the hillsides) and white (the houses and businesses). On this particular Sunday, our coach bus tour included a ride through the beach community (considered legendary by surfers) with its protected coves, high dunes, surf shacks, and contrasting multi-million-dollar, modern glass homes (like you would find in Los Angeles) across the street from the sand. Just beyond these natural and manmade riches, tucked between residential neighborhoods, is the Elms, a historic village dating back to the mid-1800s when Queen Victoria's people decided to impose their culture (which included their Christian beliefs) on the Maori tribe, the natives of New Zealand who still make up twenty percent of the population. What I enjoyed about the place is the well-tended English garden that encircles the property composed of a restored chapel, library, and main house, used primarily for sleeping. Our knowledgeable docent provided us with everything we needed to know and more.
From there, we motored inland past rolling hills, farms like you would find in Pennsylvania, yet more reminiscent of Scotland (where most of the British immigrants came from) until we reached a kiwi orchard, where we learned all about how New Zealand's cash crop, the kiwi, is grown on vines. At first glance, we thought we were in a vineyard. The grapes, however, were camel-colored, oval balls with fine hair. The last stop was a community center, a version of an Elks Club, outfitted with booths containing products, such as jams and jellies, cosmetics, tea, chocolate bars, etc. all featuring the kiwi as a main ingredient. (Tourist trap, maybe?) My personal favorites were the kiwi tea and scones with kiwi clotted cream. Here Great Britain met New Zealand in a delicious way.
Picton is a quiet, quaint hamlet by the sea that the large ships often bypass. Shuttles for the ship's passengers were provided as freshly cut lumber dominates the port area resulting in no safe areas to walk. We strolled through much of the town (a few blocks large), hiked through a slice of the outback (two miles worth) that rose up from the bay, and were treated to narration from Hannah (Vancouver native who wanted to find touches of her home elsewhere) and Andy, a native New Zealander. The most interesting fact that I gleaned had to do with the possum, a rat-like creature in a cuter outfit that I grew up appreciating while living in a mid-century modern house in the woods of New Jersey. The Europeans introduced possums to New Zealand in the 1800s. Since then, the population has exploded to 80 million creatures that the government is trying to curtail, sadly. No matter where you are in the world, overpopulation can happens when a new species is introduced to an ecosystem. However, the most memorable trait of Picton was/is its "handmade ice cream." All of us on the excursion received a free cone of honey vanilla from a local merchant. So delicious! Unsurprisingly, New Zealand is known for its dairies. I haven't had ice cream like NZ's since my college days amidst the dairy farmlands of Pennsylvania. If you are willing to take this world cruise or at least two planes, Picton is an unspoiled, unforgettable delight.
New Plymouth: The first bit of information out of our bus driver's mouth was that this mid-sided city in the shadows of Mt. Taranaki was the filming location for The Last Samurai, chosen by Hollywood movie location scouts because Mt. Taranaki looks remarkably like Mt. Fuji. For some reason (probably monetary), the company couldn't film there. Apparently when Tom Cruise, the film's star, was in New Plymouth to shoot, he was able to disappear into bars and restaurants. No one wanted a selfie with him in it. He was treated like a regular citizen.
Upon exploration, I found that New Plymouth looks similar to one of many Canadian towns along the St. Lawrence. The name "Devon" is everywhere as the first British settlers came from Devonshire, England in 1841. Land tensions between the native Maoris and the Brits led to war in 1860, which lasted about ten years. There was much division and resentment up until 1972, when the New Zealand government admitted to stealing Maori land and paid 98 million dollars in reparations to the tribe. Also at that time, tribal traditions and history were added to school curriculums (and remain) to ensure that the Maoris maintain their cultural identity. Peaceful relations between the factions continue to be a priority. (In this regard, the U.S. could really learn something from New Zealand.)
The most interesting sights along our two-mile walking tour of New Plymouth (hosted by a senior British docent) were the Richmond family home (New Plymouth's first family), a six-hundred-year-old sweet chestnut tree, antique American cars participating in the "Americarna" road rally, a verdant park where the original railway was built in 1875, and a cemetery where soldiers who died during the "Maori trouble" are buried. Of special interest to me, the retired English teacher, was an outstanding symbol of three feathers that is repeated on local monuments. A Maori prophet, their Gandhi, introduced it to represent "glory to God, peace on Earth, and goodwill towards men." (Sound familiar?) I spent the rest of the time allotted exploring a shopping mall right next to the shuttle bus stop, featuring some American stores, such as Sketchers. (The sneakers were very expensive at about $200 U.S. dollars at pair). I met a very good-looking young clerk who told me he was in love with the idea of my home state California, a visit to which is on his bucket list. I suppose the grass is always greener. Just one more thing: many Americans are applying for New Zealand residency lately. Hmm. I wonder why.
Next stop? Sydney, Australia. Catch you soon!
#New Zealand, #down under, #travel, #blog, #blogger
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