s e v e n i s a j o u r n e y

Saturday morning started with returning the little clock/radio/CD player to Noel Leeming, where I’d bought it the week before. I figured if I bought a piece of electronic equipment for the express purpose of playing music, the sounds that come out of it ought really to sound like music. Call me fussy, but I like bass *and* treble, and this thing provided neither. Bleah. Clock/radios that also play CDs are thin on the ground, considering that they seem like such a useful, natural combination to have. I’m currently reconsidering my priorities in that department. In other areas, HEPA filters don’t seem to exist at all (Chris wanted one to help him deal with the wood smoke). I can only conclude that New Zealanders don’t suffer from allergies the way Americans do (possibly on account of a regular intake of wood smoke from an early age).

The trip to Noel Leeming (who offer financial services, in addition to electronics and appliances) was largely to kill time before the 11:30 show of Spirited Away at the local theater:

It seats about 30, all in those comfy padded sofettes. That’s the ticket counter, where they also sell tea, coffee, and home-made desserts. The little lounge area out of frame to the left features a cozy wood stove. So civilized ! (They have “normal” theaters here, too — we went to see X-Men 2 at one in Lower Hutt last week. They all have assigned seating, though, so when you call ahead to reserve your tickets you can also pick out your seats.)

After the movie, we did some more driving around, this time around the bay to the east and up over the ridge into Wainuiomata. Wainuiomata itself is more suburbia, but just outside it, you pick up the Coast Road to the south, and that goes all the way down along the Wainuiomata River to the sea. On a lark, we decided to see just how far that was, and are glad we did. The really big, gazillion-acre ranches are called “stations” down here, and we passed Pencarrow Station, which seemed to be mostly sheep, although we saw some cows as well. The weathered-looking building there is, in fact, a shearing shed — I had a peek in the window and saw stacks of fleeces and bits of equipment and stuff. Down at the coast is an empty stretch of much-pounded charcoal-colored beach, with seal colonies farther down, and a research station. At the breaker line, you could hear the stones being ground against each other, on their way to becoming sand.

Out just before where the breakers, uh, break (I’m sure there’s a technical term for this, that people who haven’t lived inland all their lives would know), there are beds of this *freaky* kelp stuff. It’s thick and rubbery, and it kinda flails around in the foam like cthulhoid alien tentacles. When it washes up and dries out, it looks just as weird — almost crystaline on the inside, and leathery on the outside. I got more pics if anyone wants texture maps for alien spaceships. Anyway, the light shines through it in a really neat way, as you can see.

After the driving, we had some time to kill before we were supposed to be at a “cocktail party” being given at the house that the woman who is one half of the twosome responsible for the Utilikilt is staying at, so we parked at Cuba Street (which was busily rolling up the sidewalks at 7PM on a Saturday night — I’m told Courtenay Place, where the clubs are, is open later) and walked around a bit. Our noses almost immediately led us to a little hole-in-the-wall family-run Korean BBQ which smelled fantastic and was full of Koreans. “Ah-hah !” we said.

Later, stuffed full of bi bim bap and kim chi, we arrived at the party to discover it mostly composed of forty-something Celtic musicians. I am not as good at pretending to be an extravert as I sometimes like to think, but nonetheless had a good time once I got to chatting with folks.