Rotorua Area

Kerosene Creek near Rotorua… thought I’d give a quick comparison on our experience of this over the decades.

Henry, Joe and Freya in summer 2003

Henry, Joe and Freya in summer 2003

The natural hot creek is accessed by turning off State Highway 5, south of Rotorua, and driving along the unsealed Old Waiotapu Road for about ten minutes. Just before you reach a gate which prevents further access, pull into the parking area on the right and set off through the bush along a well-trodden path.


In 2003, our visit here coincided with a vehicle break-in. We had been warned about the possibility of this by staff at Wai-a-Tapu Thermal Wonderland so took precautions with our motorhome. In 2018, we did not know if this was still a potential crime spot but were extra careful and kept an eye out for unusual activity. We did see some rather rough-looking people turn up in a van, a man got out briefly with his dog but didn’t walk it which seemed odd. They hung around and it looked as if they were casing the joint.

We got there early in the morning and there was a couple already in the waterfall; then a crowd of people came along the path towards us, but walked past. It was a case of take your turn, because sitting in the horseshoe-shaped waterfall is the most exciting thing to do here.


One thing we noticed was that the water temperature was cooler than it had been in 2003. So, was it the time of year? It would figure that in the height of summer the creek would be hotter… or was this a more long-term change?

In late November 2003 it was like a very hot bath, turning your skin red after a few minutes; you couldn’t stay in for long. In early April 2018, the water was like a barely warm bath, but definitely an interesting experience for a natural water feature if you are not accustomed to this. The one advantage was, we could stay in the water for longer!

Slipping Away


If you go to see the glaciers of New Zealand in 2019 there is not a lot to see compared to 2004. If you do want to get up close to one, it has to be done by means of an expensive helicopter flight, or a long walk up the valley.

When I walked on a glacier in 2004 with my seven-year-old son Joe it was totally awesome, like a once-in-a-lifetime experience… at that time we had no idea how true this would be because chances were slipping away for a repeat walk in 2018 on our visit to New Zealand. Due to the glacier hardly being there.

In 2004, we chose one of the many trips offered by Franz Josef Glacier Guides. It was the cheaper option, involving a walk up the valley for about 45 minutes to get to the terminal face where we began walking on the ice.


Below is an extract from Middle England to Middle-earth:

We mounted some ice steps to a rough, stony area where we strapped on our Ice Talonz. After holding onto ropes to aid our ascent up some steep steps we walked on the level for a bit, seeing some crevasses. The ice was blue in places due to refracted sunlight. We stopped to look at a Moulin, a vertical shaft formed by surface water. Water was streaming into the bluish-coloured large hole in the ice, to join the watercourse 150m below.

After explaining about it our guide continued: “We're just gonna go and check out that nice big cave over there, then we're gonna go for a wander up that side of the glacier and then we might stop for about ten minutes and have a bit of food after that.”

Franz Josef Glacier used to extend down to the Tasman Sea, 18,000 years ago during the Ice Age. Nowadays it is receding back up the Waiho Valley due to climate change. This particularly sensitive glacier responds within a few years to snowfall levels at the névé and is exceptionally fast-flowing. The ice underneath the 20m-thick crust moves around one and a half metres a day through plastic flow and sliding on a river which acts like a cushion.

Our guide walked ahead of us, hacking at the rough, pre-formed steps with his ice axe to make the climb easier. Joe, right behind him, was allowed a go with the ice axe too.


In 2018 our family walked up the valley to get as close to the Fox Glacier as possible. It still looked quite far away when we came to the end of the path, as you can see from the photos.

Joe is looking pensive as he ponders the disappearance of the glacier he was able to sit right next to in the photo from 2004.


Signs inform you about the changes.


Today, if you want to get on the ice, you need to be pretty fit, aged over eight and have a lot of money to spare. Check out some guided adventures on the websites below if you are thinking of visiting the glaciers.


Franz Josef Glacier Website


Photo, right: our motorhome in the car park at Fox Glacier 2004.

Below: in 2018, Henry with our rented motorhome.

Abel Tasman Coast Track and Caples Track

Extract from Middle England to Middle-earth:

 Walking to Mid Caples Hut took us four and a half hours, with stops. The temperature read 26ºC (78ºF) on the thermometer in the shade outside the hut. We had been walking in woods mostly, so far, but now the track headed out into open meadow and we became hot and sweaty. At almost three o'clock we knew we had to press on. The rucksack was incredibly heavy — Henry carried it all the way — which left me with Freya (a big girl for her age of nearly four) when she was tired.

The track went uphill a lot with large creeks to ford. Mountains were on either side of us with a big prominent one at the valley head. This was our goal, taunting us as it appeared closer then daunting as we realized it was not.

The last meadow was wet underfoot, then we entered a forest which seemed gloomy after being out in the open. Tangled roots crossed the path, along with streams and rocks to negotiate. The grey South Island robin and little green South Island rifleman birds came within a foot of us. Our water ran out so we drank from side creeks as recommended by some rangers we had met carrying a load of pipes up the valley. The DOC leaflets tell you to boil water for three minutes or treat it as it may contain Giardia and other parasites or bacteria.

About to set off - Caples Track 2004

About to set off - Caples Track 2004

Joe and Henry went on ahead, Henry planning to come back and help me. We eventually got to the hut at 6.30pm.

I had envisaged a grassy meadow with the chance of a refreshing dip in the river, a reward for reaching the end of our journey. I was swiftly disavowed of that notion. The hut was situated in the middle of a boggy, fly-infested clearing in the bush and next to it, a towering mountain with waterfalls shooting down it. Where the river had got to, I was not sure.

A couple were erecting a tent in the clearing. The hut was advertised as sleeping 20 trampers but there didn’t appear to be more than 16 beds in bunks of four in a row, each fitted with brown vinyl mattresses. We dumped our stuff on a top bunk.

“It would be a bit odd if you were on your own and had to sleep right next to a stranger,” I whispered to Henry.

“That would depend on who you got next to,” he replied, raising his eyebrows at me.


In 2004 our big tramping trip was on the Caples Track near Queenstown. It took two days and was one of the few in the area we were advised to walk on due to having young children, as a lot of the tracks have alpine sections.


 This year we really wanted to enjoy more of the Abel Tasman Coast Track as we had had such a limited experience of it before. I loved this track with its array of beaches, and often beautiful weather as it is in a region that receives a large amount of sunshine. It is also brilliant because you can get a water taxi ride along the coast to a number of drop-off points, then walk back to the start. Which means you get to see more than if you had to walk there and back as you have more time. The coastal track is also easy to walk. As adult trampers, we gauged that form Bark Bay we would take a full day back to get back to Marahau, but it was achievable. Any further walking, and we would have been struggling. As it was, after a certain point the walk became less of a pleasure and we began to wish we were back at the campsite. All done in a day though, no need to take camping gear - damn near impossible, coming from the UK for a limited time.



 You have to watch it; don’t under-estimate your timing or you could end up having to jog back. At the time of year we visited (autumn) the sun set at about 6.15 pm which meant twilight was about half an hour after that.



Although there appear to be two companies, Abel Tasman AquaTaxi and Marahau Water Taxi, they are run by the same people. When I tried to book the aqua taxi, the website for Abel Tasman AquaTaxi had no booking facility but Marahau Water Taxis had easy online booking. We did eventually book it from the other side of the world but there were a few emails flying back and forth in order to sort it out. We wanted to park at the huge parking area near the AquaTaxi centre, as this was closer to the start of the walking track.

Don’t Run Out of Water!



We covered 15 miles (25 km) in a day on the Abel Tasman Track. We were dropped off at Bark Bay and walked back to Marahau. Having two young people instead of two littlies was great. No sitting down in protest in the middle of the track by a four-year-old. Instead… a mistake on our part led to a protest from Freya of a different kind. We left a bottle of drinking water on the water taxi and our supplies dwindled to a dire level. Then Freya started to complain and worry. We had allowed about 2 litres of water per person. It was a pretty hot day and we were starting to feel dehydrated. However, we gave the remaining water to Freya for the sake of peace and Joe and I bombed on ahead.



When I had envisaged emergencies like this I thought that at least we could go down to one of the beaches where they had drinking water (there aren’t that many either); but when it comes to it, you don’t feel like doing an extra mile, especially when it would be uphill on the way back. Joe and I eventually succumbed and drank from a small waterfall. Not recommended I suppose, but we had no ill-effects.


There is an inland track too, which is steep and more challenging. This 41 km track climbs steeply through the forest where at the top you are guaranteed of amazing views. You can make a circular walk by combining the two different tracks too.

Walking from Bark Bay to Marahau on the coastal track gives the opportunity to take a couple of diversions inland: Cleopatra’s Pool is a ten-minute walk off the main track and worth a look or a even a dip.

Falls River

Falls River

Cascade Falls, however, is a 1 hr 3o minute return walk so we gave it a miss. Walking across the inlet to the Falls River on the suspension bridge though, gave great views of the river below and plenty of people kayaking.

Cleopatra’s Pool

Cleopatra’s Pool

Coquille Bay and Fisherman Island: 2003 and 2018

I seem to have taken these two photos from almost exactly the same spot! It’s obviously one of the more beautiful viewpoints along the track. The first is taken in the middle of the day in summertime, the second one on our way back in late afternoon in the autumn.






Towards Frenchman Bay

Towards Frenchman Bay

Wellington - Spot the Difference


Once again, in 2018, we were in New Zealand’s capital city. Freya spent her fourth birthday not far from here and now she is eighteen.

December 2003

December 2003

April 2018

April 2018

Excerpt from Chapter 30 of Middle England to Middle-earth:


“Heading out towards Eastbourne, we too came to the end of the road. Looking for somewhere to wild camp, we parked up behind two housetrucks next to each other, right by the pebbly beach.

While preparing a meal I glanced out of the window and caught sight of a boy and girl cycling round with Joe and Freya. When the meal was ready I went out to call our children in. As I approached them the boy came up to me.

“Hi, I’m Bin,” he said, extending his hand towards me, “and that’s my sister, Hannah. That’s our housetruck over there.” Ben pointed to the Bedford, Ex-horse float from which his father, a blacksmith, ran his business.

Outside was a forge, the coal fire powered by a car fan heater, with a metal chimney which dismantled. The forge was stored behind the cab on top of the engine in transit. There was also a washing machine, a simple affair, the likes of which Henry remembered his mother using in the 1960s: a white cylindrical drum, powered by a lawn mower engine, with a mangle over it.

The next day we met Ben and Hannah’s parents, called James and Diane, when they invited us into their housetruck through the stable doors at the back end of it. Virtually every square inch of space was filled with something. The rear of the truck housed James’ workshop. Antique hand-powered tools hung from the walls: there were vices; a grinder; and a cabinet with many tiny drawers. Handles on the cupboards were fashioned from old spanners, and cup hooks were made out of forks…”

This was Freya’s fourth birthday, made special by having two other children to a little party. It was 2004, the second time we had stayed in the Wellington area.

Cable Car 2003

Cable Car 2003

... and 2018

... and 2018

Windy Wellington 2003

Windy Wellington 2003

The only thing that hasn't changed is the weather!

The only thing that hasn't changed is the weather!

Cave Troll in Wellington

Cave Troll in Wellington

The Weta  Cave 2018

The Weta  Cave 2018

Now and Then - Rivendell

In The Lord of the Rings films, Rivendell is the ethereal, magical realm of the Elves. Set in a steep-sided, wooded gorge, into which waterfalls cascade, it is a tranquil haven for the Fellowship after Frodo is stabbed by the Witch-king of Angmar.




The film site is found in Kaitoke Regional Park, in the foothills of the Tararua Ranges where you can visit or camp (for a small fee) and view the site of the film set near the Hutt River.

In 2003, the former film site was a field with a handful of interpretation boards describing where the set had been situated. Wait for it…





Wait for it… in 2018 not a lot has changed!

Which is good.


Archway Rivendell Henry and Freya pointing.jpg



There are a couple of interesting additions – an archway depicting the Fellowship’s departure point from Rivendell and a post with the characters on it which shows their actual height so you can compare yourself against it. Henry and Joe are nearly as tall as Aragorn. I am about Gandalf's height... I expected he would be taller! But hobbits take the biscuit. They are supposedly the size of children but this interactive post really brings it home to you. They are seriously small.






The interpretation boards here, in among the trees, give a lot more information than they did in 2003. There is a map showing your position in relation to the former set, this has details such as Frodo's bedroom, Elrond's house and the 'kiss bridge'. The position of certain trees is indicated, showing where exact parts of the set were but all in all quite difficult to figure out. I have included an example here just to illustrate this.




Why not just get the feel for this peaceful place by going for a walk like we did in the early morning? We met no one, and some of us did a bit of skinny dipping in the river.

Well, when you see a sign like this, it’s tempting on a hot day. The water of the Hutt River was pretty cool but it was quite early in the morning. Apparently the River Pakuratahi is warmer and calmer than the Hutt River.


There are a variety of walks and tramping tracks (the longest being 3 hours) in the park, which is open to visitors from 6 am to dusk. We chose The Swingbridge Track, a 2 km, one-hour walk crossing the Hutt River gorge and taking us through rimu and rata forest.

More Motorhome Matters

Having said goodbye to our motorhome in Christchurch, we discussed its shortcomings.

Obviously, being a rental vehicle, it is going to have a lot of wear and tear and potential problems. In the process of dropping off the motorhome, within the space of ten minutes two other people returned theirs who had also had problems – one had resolved itself though.

However, the customer service we had from Britz was excellent when ours got a plumbing fault.

There are some things to be aware of with motorhomes.

You will have to empty the cassette toilet, so if you haven’t got someone in your party with a strong stomach, don’t even consider a motorhome.

Motorhomes are noisy. Things rattle around as you drive – the grill for one. We tried stuffing a tea towel into the grill area with minimal effect.

You have to be prepared to drive long distances and keep pulling over to let people pass. The roads are quieter than the ones in the UK but you can still get a build-up of traffic behind you. ‘NZ roads are different, allow more time’ signs inform you. Yes, they can be winding (on the way to the Abel Tasman Track area they are winding and uphill) but there are also some long, straight stretches, as there are on the way down the West Coast. You can get a move on then.

But basically, you have to be pretty committed to some serious driving if you have about two weeks in New Zealand like we did and want to see a lot of the South Island and some of the North. Four to five weeks would give ample time. In two weeks we covered 3,874 kilometres, meaning we had to pay $256 for the road user charge at the end.


A Comparison: then and now


Cons for the Britz Frontier

In 2003 we bought our own Mitsubishi Canter 4-berth motorhome when we toured New Zealand. The motorhome was built on a truck chassis and had smaller height and length dimensions compared to the Volkswagen 'Britz Frontier' we hired this year.

The Mitsubishi was brilliantly manoeuvrable - you could fit it into a standard parking bay and it had an excellent turning circle.

The Volkswagen Britz Frontier felt unwieldy and bouncy. In fairness, you are going to get this with a big vehicle.

The Mitsubishi had a good interior layout that felt spacious.

The Frontier was adequate but cramped in certain areas. The shower/toilet room was not so well designed or as roomy. It was also tight for space between that room and the kitchen area, because of the preference given to seating/sleeping areas in this 6-berth motorhome.

Seating was just in the areas near the front of the vehicle. There was no option to sit in the back and look out of the big window.



Pros for the Britz Frontier


The Frontier - because it was more modern, obviously - had a reversing camera which was a good safety feature.

A Sat Nav was available. What a brilliant invention. We got lost so many times in our old Mitsubishi.

However, there is a sort of alternative to the Sat Nav. The Rankers app installed on my phone meant we were able to follow our progress via GPS because I bought a New Zealand sim card at the airport. The little blue dot showed where we located on the map and you could search for anything from playgrounds and camp grounds to petrol stations, dump stations and supermarkets. A good feature was Top Ranked Activities.

Britz also do their own Roadtrip app which had a few different search possibilities such as laundromats and public toilets. However, it didn’t work offline. You have 1GB of data available via WiFi through the Sat Nav but it is very temperamental.


In summary, we felt that the Britz Frontier was worth hiring and as a family of four we definitely needed the space. If we had been six it would have been uncomfortable. One of the beds had cushions missing, though I’m sure it could have been sorted by Britz. But I recommend checking everything over thoroughly before you set off.

We were glad of the freedom to travel but felt quite shaken about and were happy to leave it after two weeks of intensive travelling. It was probably the amount of time we spent in it that made it seem uncomfortable towards the end, and perhaps I’m looking at things through rose-coloured glasses but I have to say that the whole experience made me appreciate our old Mitsubishi…


A Celebratory Send-Off from Singapore

Apparently I had told Joe and Freya that we were having an early start. I was staggered when Freya knocked on our door, fully dressed and ready to go at 6.30 am. Chinatown was our first stop and we were there by  8.30 am. The MRT had been crowded with commuters, as it had been at 10.30 pm the night before. Standing room only.

 A practical point worth mentioning is that you cannot get a $10 day pass easily. I had read on TripAdvisor that it is a good idea to get one of these, but the reality is tricky. They are only available at certain stations (though quite a few) which means you have to use the MRT to reach the station in the first place, then actually pay $20. You get the $10 back from a place at the airport when leaving, but who knows if that would be convenient? So we faced having to queue at ticket machines and go through a rigmarole to obtain a ticket each. The machines also didn't take credit cards, only Singapore dollars in the form of $2 and $5 notes or coins. This was to become an irritation as we had to do it about seven times. You could top up the tickets and got a small discount after six uses.
At least the MRT was cheap, but it did add up. About $1.50 each per journey. 

Chinatown has temples worth taking a look at and we returned to show Freya one of the oldest ones - Thian Hock Keng. Although the Hokkien temple itself had not changed of course, a route through Telok Ayer Green to reach it was pleasant. Always a good plan to have greenery in a city as it is calming.


Chinatown Heritage Centre appealed to Henry but before we went in, hunger drove us to a cafe (takeaway or eat in) next to it where some confusion arose over pricing as the woman running it spoke English rather badly. Somehow we ended up inside (lovely air conditioning) eating pasties and drinking iced tea and coffee, but were charged an extra $5 once inside. 
Then I noticed through a window, the entrance charge for adults to the heritage centre - $49 each. We weren't having that, so made for our next destination, the island of Sentosa. 

This time the plan went well. Instead of paying $4 per person on the Sentosa Express, we walked across to the island on the Sentosa Boardwalk, a lovely wide walkway with flower borders. We later found out that you don't get charged on the train returning to the city, so we did it the right way round.
Sentosa has changed massively and oh boy was this not our thing. Universal Studios Singapore, a theme park where you get the chance to interact with movies like Jurassic Park, Adventure Cove Waterpark, animal encounters, Madame Tussaud's Singapore, an indoor skydiving centre, a luge, a sky tower, in all over 30 attractions.  A walk though all this mayhem gave us the chance to see queues of people, people with selfie sticks thrust about, excited visitors posing for photos in front of the giant Merlion statue, all surrounded by a choice of food outlets.


Passing through as quickly as humanly possible, we found one of the monorail stations, Imbiah, and got on a train (free) to Palawan Beach. Again, another change: the monorail no longer encircled the island which last time had given us great views of different parts we couldn't walk to and it also went right over the beach. I think buses had replaced it. One change for the better was nice: clean toilets and changing rooms, outdoor showers too.
Palawan Beach was just as alluring as last time. A suspension bridge leads across to the southernmost point on the Asian continent, after which there are small beaches. We found a private one and enjoyed it for more than an hour, delighting in swimming in the lukewarm waters, despite warning signs for jellyfish and stone fish! Other more predictable danger lay in sunburn which was hard work to avoid.

We seemed to have oodles of time and didn't know what to do next as the last thing on the itinerary was Gardens by the Bay, illuminated at night so we were going later. The promised thunderstorm had not materialized so leaving Sentosa by the monorail we wandered about looking for somewhere to eat and found a brilliant place called Food Republic where street traders had effectively come indoors and were all around the outside of a food court. There was a wide range of food choice - we had Singapore dishes, noodle-based with sauce that resembled soup there was so much of it. On the side was pureed garlic, a hot chutney and vinegar. More iced tea to follow.
Joe became agitated by the sight of a huge, black cloud and so we went straight for the Gardens by the Bay. It was not even 3 pm.


On emerging from the MRT station, we saw rain hammering down and people sheltering from it. We stood in an area as close to the gardens as we could get and watched a series of thunderstorms pass through, dashing hopes of walking outside. We would be soaked in minutes. A group of construction workers stood next to us, chatting. An hour passed and we were getting edgy. Still torrential rain fell, with flashes of lightning and loud cracks of thunder. We began to get desperate. Joe suggested going back to the hotel but Henry and I are more determined than that! As a gap between thunderstorms arrived, we prepared to make a move. The construction workers, who were supposed to be laying concrete, suddenly went off and re-appeared wearing bin bags. They had a couple spare which we cadged and went off, somewhat equipped for the weather.


I was wearing a thin shift dress and only Henry and Freya (who now wore the bin bags) had hats. It began to rain heavily after a bit. We scurried from one shelter to the next but Joe and I got soaked. My dress would dry out quickly - well that was the theory. Not in these temperatures. 

These are no ordinary gardens. They are exceptional, dramatic, totally over the top, totally Singapore. The main attraction is the 'supertrees', up to  50 metres tall, with an elevated walkway called the OCBC Skyway, between two of them and a restaurant in one.  They are purple and green constructions and have plants growing most of the way up. And they light them up when it gets dark, which would be at 7 pm. Two hours away. We had already been here that long.

Joe was especially fed up with the idea of waiting. We tried a cafe but apart from it being over-priced at $5 for a coffee, it was so cold in there I would be shivering. I walked out and the others followed.
Down on the lower level there was a much cheaper alternative, takeaway coffee at half the price. After that we gave in and paid a large amount of money to go into the huge conservatories (The Flower Dome and The Cloud Forest) similar to The Eden Project in Cornwall. Described as containing tropical plants - that raised my hopes of a warm-up. No chance. It was cold in there and there was a simulated mountain environment so it would get colder as we climbed upwards. The first feature was the tallest indoor waterfall in the world, 35 metres of it. Spectacular but not something we wanted to get close to. A young bride and groom were posing for photos by it.


Onward and upward, past flourishing plants, sculptures in among them; different country themes (we whizzed past New Zealand), then suddenly we found ourselves in a mini LEGOLAND. A display of carnivorous plants - the real ones and the LEGO ones side by side. This place was something else, a great aerial walkway snaking around the Cloud Mountain. It was the most fascinating experience of its kind we had had.
The other conservatory was less interesting - unless cacti and olive trees are your bag. It worried Henry how they had transported ancient olive trees to their new position. When we got to the temporary tulip display we had to run the gauntlet through a crowd of photo-mad people. Like something out of a nightmare, every way you looked you could see excited, Happy™ folks smiling for the camera or behind a phone. I thought I took a lot of photos but not compared to this and it was the vanity that got us, who wants hundreds of selfies on file, you would surely not get time to look at them all!


Blue sky was now visible outside and the Skyway was open, which there had been a possibility of not happening, they don't open it if lightning strikes are a risk. We gladly shelled out $8 each for this and were told the queuing time was 45 minutes. In fact it was half that time. We all ascended in a lift, then marvellous luck was on our side -  a magical event occurred. The sound and light show started! There were only two that evening and people were only allowed 15 minutes on the Skyway. Our allotted time coincided with a fabulous display of flashing lights on the supertrees accompanied by stirring classical music, including Can Can music and Rossini's William Tell Overture. Behind us was a view of Singapore lit up including a modern feat of engineering - the Marina Bay Sands hotel complex, three skyscrapers topped by a 340-metre 'SkyPark' with palm trees growing on it and a swimming pool. You could hardly believe what you were seeing and I wouldn't sleep a wink if I stayed there.

As we walked back through the gardens we were excitedly discussing what we had just experienced  and knew there was no doubt that this was a grand finale to our holiday, a celebratory send off from Singapore, the garden city...


An Evening in Singapore

The descent into Singapore was protracted. The airport was so busy that we had to wait in order to land.  Since we had last visited, they had built another terminal and the taxi driver who took us to our hotel told us that Terminal 5 was planned. Singapore is a popular stopover.
A prosperous, polite, island city-state, it has quite a few rules that become apparent to visitors. This helps to make a clean, safe environment. Before you arrive you have to fill out an arrival card. You are warned that bringing drugs into Singapore carries the death penalty. The form itself is a pain when you have been on an aeroplane for over 10 hours. Among other things you have to find your passport number, flight number and fill out your address twice, making sure you get everything right.

When you travel around Singapore, other rules make themselves apparent and it becomes obvious why the city is so clean. A $500 fine for eating or drinking on the MRT (the underground transport system) which also bans durians (a fruit) for some reason. In certain places you cannot smoke without risking a $1000 fine. And yet, our standards of personal safety do not match up with those of Singapore, for example: workers sit in the back of open trucks as they travel along the roads.

Having just two nights here - one full day - we had to get a move on. As soon as we had dropped our bags in our rooms we made for Little India. A ten-minute walk to Novena MRT Station, got our tickets, onto the train, a change from one line to another and a bustling world of colour and noise hit our senses. Cyclists swarmed past us, also buses, coaches, cars, as we queued to cross the road. Stallholders were getting their wares in, it was about 8 pm. Many of them sold bright, multi-coloured garlands for a few dollars. In contrast were jewellery shops, sometimes three in a row selling masses of gold, and they had customers in! What a wealthy place, such an abundance of products for sale.


Komala Vilas is an Indian vegetarian restaurant we knew in this area. Joe sussed out its whereabouts using the 'Handy Smartphone' from the Ibis hotel - amazingly, a phone for personal use, with free international calls that could be made with it to a selection of countries including our own. We were soon making our way through the tables at the restaurant, arousing some stares, being the only customers who were not local. 
The waiter showed us to a table with two men and a family. People were busy eating without cutlery, scooping up a variety of dips and chutneys with dosai pancakes. Soon we were doing the same. Some of the curries and pickles were eye-watering. My nose was starting to run and my tongue verging on going numb with the strength of the spices but I was determined to finish it. You get huge portions for a cheap price. Freya and I shared a chappathi and poppadom dish that came served on a banana leaf. There was even a kind of pudding - a little sweet dish of tapioca with noodles and cashew nuts in. Joe had onion uthappam. Sweet tea and coffee followed.
I was in long trousers and although it was fairly 'cool' that evening (maybe 27 degrees) as they had had recent rain, I was feeling it on the walk back to the hotel, trying to keep up with Joe and Freya. As soon as I got into the room, I ripped my trousers off and literally collapsed on the floor for a few minutes, before heading straight for the shower.


A Word on Christchurch

I'm backtracking a bit here. The day before the wedding was kind of frantic. Henry had to be in the centre of Christchurch by 9.15 am as he had an appointment at the barbers. Freya and I had an appointment later for a shape and polish of our nails. I had never had a manicure before and Henry had never had a shave at a barbers. Two new experiences - we are not normally the kind of people to go in for this sort of thing but there was a special occasion coming up.

However, parking in Christchurch was a nightmare. When we visited in 2003/2004 we parked by the Botanic Gardens at Hagley Park, where our kids enjoyed the open air pool. The satnav didn't seem to help as Henry missed a coupe of turnings and we ended up with a nail-biting finish with on-street parking by a dead-end where construction was going on. Henry raced to the barbers, slightly late. Dare I say it, it was a close shave (sorry!).

Christchurch was like a building site, following the 2011 earthquake. There were cranes everywhere, half-finished buildings, construction noise and the cathedral! Cathedral Square was unrecognizable. We struggled to get our bearings. The cathedral itself looked like it had been bombed. Half of it remained, the spire in a separate place. There is a temporary Cardboard Cathedral for worship somewhere in the city, (we didn't see it) but it looked as if they were unsure whether to re-build the old one. Was it too much of a risk? Maybe it is just time-consuming.

Saddened, we left. We also had to take the motorhome back to Britz (got lost!) and things were a bit stressful. We thought we could take leftover food back to the depot for other people to use (we had acquired some at Auckland) but there was no area for it here. They wanted you to buy it instead! 
The Omega car rental was right next to the motorhome depot and Henry went to pick up the car.

We were in a car now! A Mazda Premacy that had the indicators and wiper controls round the wrong way for Henry, who kept putting the wipers on! Definitely not needed as the day was a scorcher.

We made it to Akaroa just before sunset, viewing it from the balcony that was off a room Freya immediately decided was hers at the bed and breakfast venue. Henry and I had a downstairs room and our en suite had a spa bath. There were flowers in every single room, even the bathrooms - white lilies, yellow gladioli, and some I didn't recognize. We had bought a few flowers from Christchurch but our host said we could help ourselves to some from the garden, so we went round choosing roses and ferns and adding them to the bouquet I made. Henry made boutonnieres for himself and Joe.
After ironing our clothes we were all set for the next day...