Day 8. Sunday 12 August.

A disturbed night, partly from anticipation of an early start, partly from heavier weather as we transitted. An early wake up in Vansittart Bay as the anchors banged, rattled and creaked to the bottom and the zodiacs were off-loaded. We were in the first group to go ashore to Jar Island (so named because of the discovery of Chinese pottery shards)to have a welcome to country smoking ceremony, view the rock art and watch some traditional dances. Although cruises have visited here in the past, this was the first time the traditional owners from the Wandjina culture would conduct a welcome to country ceremony. And we smiled at the cultural contrast: the indigenous hosts had arrived for today’s important event in shifts by helicopter.

Because there were more welcomers than expected, the day’s programmed activities were delayed by half an hour, which meant nothing to many, but resulted in the cancellation of this evening’s wine tasting function. We weren’t going anyway.

The zodiacs ferried us the couple of hundred metres from ship to shore, in quite a significant swell. We’d been advised to wear spray jackets – good advice as there was plenty of spray in both directions: T copped it going in, and D had his turn on the return.

The rock art is in what was called the Bradshaw style after the grazier that found it, but is now usually described by its indigenous name as the Gwion Gwion style (the name derives from a small bird with a distinctive call that sounds like ‘gwion’). It’s origins are unknown, as there is no evidence of cultural continuity : the Wandjina, now the traditional owners, disown this art, describing it as ‘rubbish art’.

We’d heard about the mystery of this art: unknown artists, unknown culture, age anywhere between 17000 to 40000 years old, regarded as the oldest depiction of humans in the world. The elongated figures wear long stripped grass garments, tasseled headdress, bracelets, and are painted in fine detail with some kind of brush.

A visit to a crashed WWII aircraft is on offer in the afternoon, but there is a lack of enthusiasm, due the strengthening winds forecast to be up to 30 km/hour, and with an even heavier swell. Being the hardy adventurous types, we’d both decided to go anyway: the zodiac rides are a lot of fun. It turned out that the wind died down, making the trip quite pleasant. The wreck of the aircraft just reinforced D’s views about the unnatural nature of man’s attempts to fly. The good news is that all crew and passengers survived the crash landing, in better condition than the aircraft.

As we arrived at the site, the ‘boys’ re-enacted the crash story, to the background commentary of a Movietones announcer of the era. Very funny amateur theatrics!

Tonight is the All White Night for dinner: needless to say, we have nothing that is all white, nor even the allowed alternative of black. It coincides with the Officers Dinner, an opportunity to mix and dine with the ship’s officers. T reckons we’ve done more than our share of ‘officer dos’(and we are yet to be invited to join the Captain’s table).

Overnight to King George River, with a slightly delayed departure due to a late bus, probably held up by the road works. With sunset around 5.30 PM, we used room service and enjoyed a steak on our balcony, with stars out; locating the Southern Cross reassured D about the navigator’s skills. Why were we so whacked after a long sitting day?

Day 7. Saturday 11 August

Another perfect morning: turquoise water, pink rock walls, but we are not alone. T had been marveling at the sense of ‘owning the space’ till D pointed out the presence of a neighbor at anchor. Of course there had to be, since this is ‘the season’. But it doesn’t feel like a Saturday without the word quiz that characterizes normal Saturday mornings as D&T race each other for the 11 letter challenge.

The first expeditioners of the day were in zodiacs and off to explore the King George River at 7 AM. We take the afternoon trip, hoping that the sun on the gorge face will be strong.

After breakfast, T ventured into the handkerchief-size pool for ‘running practice’ (her alternative to the stretch class, for which she has no Lycra). Then a short film about the maritime incident of 1942 in which the cargo & passenger ship Koolama was bombed, disabled, repaired and then bombed again, having limped up to Wyndham with a handful of crew after ‘serious tension’ between captain and senior officers. Yesterday we had been told by the bus driver that a ship was resting at the end of Wyndham jetty: today we learned the story through an ABC documentary  ‘Malice or Mutiny: The Koolama Incident’, in which survivors, and relatives of both the Captain and the First Officer spoke of the incident. Multiple truths, various intents, interpretations, high emotions, jealousy, compassion and fear…a great story. But what is the real truth?

Another lunch – spoilt for choice – the cruise promised a French influence and it has delivered.

Onto our zodiac at 2 PM, captained by Lachie, the Honours university student who has ducked three weeks of his course to be here. Who wouldn’t? He later disclosed that he’d also taken a year off to follow his passion, which was all wildlife, but particularly birds.

The Wharton Limestone walls of the gorge are many colored: the reds of the Iron Oxide (aka rust), the black of the algae, the purple of the Manganese, and the white of recently exposed limestone and deposits of guano. The colours changed in intensity and hue as the sun dropped. Hardy trees – little more than twigs – cling to the rock faces, probably seeded there by a passing bird. There were occasional splashes of green growth on the sheer walls, as well as abundant lush growth on rock falls, nurtured by the nutritious iron content.

Our first stop was a Koolama Cove, where the ship had been beached and the crew put ashore. Nothing there to indicate what had happened, but the landscape and scrub was a reminder of what they’d had to endure, particularly those who had walked the 150 kms from there to the Mission at Kalumburu. After detouring up a side gorge, on to the main falls. Two drops of about 80 metres side by side, separated by a bluff. Just a trickle of water from both of them, which meant we could get right up to the waterfall face- apparently in the wet, the water shoots out tens of metres and vessels can’t get within about 50 metres of where the water falls.

We were a bit surprised to see a group of people on the top – turns out it was a party led by the ship’s captain, who’d undertaken the extremely difficult climb from the river to the top. One of the zodiac drivers offered a sum of money to anyone of his colleagues who’d be prepared to move the captain’s zodiac from the landing place to the other side of the river. There were no takers. 

As we started to depart there were two zodiacs from the ship ties up to the rock wall, dispensing champagne to one and all. As noted earlier, the blurb does promise a French experience!

By now it had passed 5 PM, so with dark falling at 5.45 PM, it was time to make the 45 minute bumpy dash back to the ship while there was still light. A convoy of about 10 zodiacs headed for home, navigation lights on as dusk arrived.

The afternoon was an opportunity to observe wildlife as well as the natural splendor. Birds sighted: a White Bellied Sea Eagle, an Osprey (and two chicks in a nest), two Pied Oyster Catchers, a Beach Stone-Curlew, an Australian Bustard, a Peregrine Falcon (which was attacking the Bustard), a Darter, a White Faced Heron, a Brahminy Kite – and two Torresian Crows. In the water: a Dugong, a pod of Dolphins, jumping fish – but no crocodiles.

Day 6. Friday 10 August.

Sailed all night to Wyndham through the Cambridge Gulf. Docked around 6 AM, with no commitments until 9.15, so a leisurely breakfast and blog catch up. The port sees very little traffic and visitors see mud but the whistling of the kites soaring above was a welcome.

On the bus at the appointed time for the two hour trip to Kununurra airport, longer than usual because of multiple roadworks, where we boarded our Cessna 208 propjet Caravan aircraft for the two hour flight over the Ord River, Argyle Dam, Bungle Bungle Ranges and the Argyle Diamond Mine, with snapshots of the surrounds of Kununurra. 

The produce gardens – melons, quinoa, bananas, mangoes, sandalwood trees – and more, were particularly impressive.

We had an aerial overview of Kununurra, but didn’t get into the town. Passed over the lake, where we’d stayed in 2007 in the caravan park and The flyover of the Ord River was a much easier journey than our three day canoe ride in that year – and it wasn’t raining!

The aerial views did not disappoint and T ran her phone/camera battery below 20%. Flood plains gave way to the ‘inland sea’ which is Lake Argyle, then long wave-like folding ranges, to the beehives of Purnululu. 2 hours of Pure magic!

Slightly less than two hours on the bus back to the ship, marveling at T’s almost favorite tree the Boab.

We followed up our day of sitting down with a short walk into the closest part town, keeping an eye out for hungry crocodiles. This part contains the Courthouse, Police Station, the old hospital and a few houses and several commercial enterprises of indistinct purpose. We recalled coming to Wyndham in June 2007 and at that time chatting to a young woman who had opened an art gallery. She specialized in printmaking and we bought a little piece with the boab tree image; her story had been one of going far from home to ‘find herself’ and it reminded us of our Jo who had gone to the UK. That gallery is no longer here. In fact the only retail outlets are a video shop and a cafe (both closed at 4pm). The motel (no longer in use) appeared in the recent TV series ‘ Mystery Road’, something that the coach driver spoke about at length this morning. He had been delighted to have had a screen role. 

The commercial and main part of this dying town is to south, at Three Mile, so called because….yes. The town as a whole is somewhat depressing, with little sign of activity, hardly surprising as the total population is now less than 700 people. However, Keith the bus driver, ex-pharmacist, loves living here and after 47 years, still can’t get enough of the beauty. He pointed out the ‘work camp/detention’ facility and  the alcohol drying-out facility – D is not sure what T’s dig in his side signified.

The afternoon concluded with a fellow passenger telling a long and fascinating family story of Wyndham.

This may be the last post until Broome, on 18 August – but we’ll try.

Internet connection will be intermittent and definitely expensive for the duration of our expedition, so posts will be rather random.

Day 4. Wednesday 8 August.

With the airport on the close horizon, we were treated to a mostly sound display of noisy Air Force fighters and heavy transport planes taking off and landing in the dusk and dark. Fortunately the pilots had been given a curfew (probably by their mums) and were snug back in their beds at a reasonable hour. This slight distraction by the brave warriors training for our defence did not in any way detract from the meal, which was indeed as delicious as expected – or perhaps even better.

So today is in large part waiting to board, which is from 1530. A late check out and access to the baggage room allowed us a wander into the CBD. While there, a couple of ladies checking in as we checked out assured us the journey would be fantastic. The Ramada Zen Quarter hotel has been good to us – friendly staff throughout, good bed and pillows, good facilities and close proximity to the city centre by foot.  T managed to slip a quick swim in before we got our taxi to the Fort Hill Wharf – a nice touch given the music played at SWUC a couple of times.

Needless to say, the process of boarding L’Austral was drawn out, but painless. We have joined 221 others on this trip, mostly Aussies, but some Kiwis, French, Japanese, Danish, English and British. Staff number 155, so a good ratio – better than at our schools! Once on board, we received the mandatory briefings on where everything is, security and safety, delivered in both French and English, introduced (aaargh) by the theme from The Love Boat. Departed Darwin at around 7 PM with a glorious sunset.

Dined a la carte and both chose the barramundi – three nights in a row! This version had a mussel sauce over it, which slightly overwhelmed the fish, but in a pleasant way. After dinner, some soloists provided music- while voices were good, they were unfortunately passed through a karaoke system, so were over whelmed by digital accompaniment.

The ship rocked and rolled a bit like we do these day – a gentle motion to each side and a bit of a sigh. Unlike us, it did it all night. D slept soundly, T less so.

Day 5. Thursday 9 August.

Headed into Indonesian waters for some bizarre requirement to make this an ‘international’ journey, with two Indonesian Customs officials on board, and our passports handed over for inspection, along with visa applications (the information supposedly copied from ours onto the form was incorrect, but we decided not to make a fuss). Interestingly, the two officials were still aboard when we left Indonesian waters and entered Australian ones.

Th morning was mostly taken up with briefings on safety, zodiac operations, and optional & included tours and then a lecture on the geology of the Kimberley, which was more geology 101 than specifically about this area. It was more interesting than the gentle snores of the elderly chap sitting next to us.

Lunch was a seafood buffet outside on the 6th deck, followed by a quiet snooze.

Our fellow expeditioners are an interesting demographic (average age 70?) and it seems from the few we’ve spoken to so far that quite a number might be regular cruisers. There have been some interesting life stories and experiences: but more interesting are the young staff members who have in their relatively short lives done such adventurous things. Danni is a scuba diver now living in Port Lincoln (born in Canberra, raised in Adelaide) whose main job is on a research ship investigating Great White sharks – having had stints in places like the Antarctic and Sub-Antarctic, & in South Georgia involved in feral animal eradication. Ri (Rebecca) is also a naturalist who has worked around Australia and in Mexico. They are both 30-something, at a guess. Lachie (or was it Toby?) is from Sydney and has taken off three weeks from his Honours year to be a staff member on this trip. There are 14 Expedition staff members, 13 of whom are youngish (compared to the guests) and with similarly interesting lives. Their brief introduction induced a slight feeling of envy for their lifestyle choices and opportunities. As our dining companion later commented’In our day, it was more like get a job and who cares about choice?’

The day was all blue…sky, sea, no land, no birds, no visible sea life, no other vessels and a different coloring at sunset.

Tonight was the Captain’s Gala Reception on the top deck. We stood around sipping Veuve Cliquot waiting for his welcome address, and introduction to key staff. The ship was rolling sideways through about 10 degrees (estimate – it might have been 2 degrees!) and quite a few folk needed to make an early exit. The pomp parade was reminiscent of the military lifestyle of our former life.

Dinner was a la carte in both restaurants for all tonight – there is a buffet most evenings in one. We were invited to join a table for 6 by a couple we’d met the night before – very surprised on getting there to discover that one of the others on the table was Dave Carpenter, who had been on the staff of Staff College at Queenscliff in 1985 when D was a student.

So we sailed on through the night, heading for Wyndham and a day of adventures – ours to fly over Purnululu NP and the Ord River. The briefing on Wyndham tells us it’s seriously dying; 11years ago we had experienced a very sad hamlet, perched on a muddy coastline , with the confluence of 5 big rivers. The rivers are still doing their thing, but since the demise of the live cattle export trade, there is nothing happening in the town. The port remains open for the two or three cruise ships, otherwise it’s a port for receiving diesel and ammonium nitrate.

Day 3. Tuesday 7 August.

Apparently the stressful journey from Canberra to Darwin deserves a rest day – but all part of the package.

An omission from yesterday. On our Uber trip from Phil’s Pad to the airport, the driver was distracted and was within centimeters (T has developed a sense of measurement from familiarity with fabrics) of rear-ending a car in front at some speed. It was T’s ‘Oooow’ that alerted him to brake heavily and avoid the collision. Just noting that this Suzuki had very good brakes indeed.

Today was an opportunity to partly explore Darwin on foot, limited of course by our feet and the heat. But high on T’s agenda was a visit to a fabric shop. It was not possible to get across on the ferry to the Tiwi Islands on a Tuesday, so a shop on the Esplanade would have to do. But first, there was a letter needing the Post Office and on the way there, T noticed a shop sign for Cloth.  D said he’d fill in time in the camping store, T crossed over to the Air Raid Arcade and found Anna Reynolds, textile artist. T was having a deja vu moment….she had previously met Anna in a shop in Hesse St, Queenscliff (about 18 months ago). It had been a Sunday morning, T had been peering through the closed shop window, Anna arrived to do something in the shop and invited T in. At that time, Anna said how she was closing down and going north. Well, here she was in Darwin, things were going really well and, with cutting shears in hand, today Anna talked non-stop about her sometimes rocky and colourful journey from artist, through deck-hand on a fishing trawler, to artist working with indigenous communities, to Batchelor College, to New York….. and she’s running late with that Masters thesis…showed T the abstract (very dense academic- speak) and there’s a dress to be finished for NT’s Indigenous Art Festival starting later this week. Exhausting! We’ll be on the Kimberley Coast by then, so will miss NT’s biggest annual event!  

That was followed by coffee at the Bush Traders on the Esplanade, a terrific indigenous business that provides an outlet for high quality clothing, art work, fabric and accessories in conjunction with the cafe. Luckily, a purple frock had been snapped up by a customer just ahead of D&T – T reckons it would have been a better fit on her, but the colour wasn’t right anyway. Nice coffee, though.

A few observations of the CBD…smoking is popular and there are plenty of empty commercial premises. Perhaps the hoped-for economic boom has not happened or has been and gone? The CBD was quiet – the only incident was an apparently very drunk man being placed (actually rolled) into a Police paddy wagon.

Then a rather long walk to the Botanic Gardens, through the lovely grove above, and a short stroll around the rainforest walk.

And on our way out, we looked up to see an origami peace crane that we’d walked under and missed on our way in. It was a sort of a blessing. Our thoughts and prayers have been with and for dear friends and relatives who are grieving at this time.

Then back to the Zen, via Woolies (!!!) to buy the makings for dinner -T said we’d have prawns and pawpaw but the prawns were all from Thailand. The fresh selection was barramundi, that will be pan fried and placed on top of a Thai salad with lime juice and chilli and washed down with a crisp Rose. And there’ll be potato sides (of course).

The Kimberley Coast trip is happening 11 years on…we’ve been wanting to get back to this part of the country since our magical road odyssey of 2007 but time, distance and other commitments ( life, that is) have kept us away. Now it’s time to do the craggy coastline by ship, Darwin to Broome.

 Day 1. Sunday 5 August.

The Kimberley adventure is off to a good start. Craig arrived 2 minutes early, alleviating D’s timing worries (and scoring some brownie points). Smooth flight to Sydney and a twenty minute walk to the Mantra Hotel then a train trip to Central to catch up with Phil and Helen.

Helen departed after one champagne, heading for the bus back to Canberra. Phil Ubered us to his pad at the rocks, and then cooked his famous pork Florentine dish derived from his travels years ago in Italy with his wife to be. A delightful, relaxed evening sharing just a couple of red wines. And Phil then arranged for the Uber back to Mascot, trusting that we will reimburse him in due course!

Grumpy alert. What is it about hotel guests that need to slam their doors late at night or early in the morning?

Day 2. Monday 6 August.

A damp morning in Sydney, but up to Darwin in 5 hours. T sat next to an older lady from Wodonga,  heading for a family catchup in Katherine who shared her life story. Having breakfasted in the airport before embarking, we were somewhat surprised and bemused to be served breakfast at about 11AM – the Qantas staff were equally bemused, but later told us that they were submitting a report suggesting that something approaching a brunch be served instead (eg sandwiches rather than an omelette or yoghurt, which were our choices).

Arrived to a very warm public holiday afternoon ( Darwin Cup Day). Shed the layers, then the  shuttle delivered us to the Ramada Zen Quarter overlooking the working end of Darwin Harbour. Views are not inspiring, but pleasant nonetheless. The lap pool was a boon, and it was cool rather than tepid. A couple of beers before dinner, which we’ve decided to have in the hotel cafe. Overhead fans are whirring, but delightful to not be in airconditioning.

Day 35. Sunday 10 December.

We’ve reached the five week mark – and it really is time to be home. The sky suggests that the drought may be about to end, which has a sort of slowing effect on us, adding to the sense of an end of journey, and of course some tiredness from the activities of the reunion. By mutual agreement this will be slow day. It didn’t start all that well as we’d allowed the milk supply to dry up so our morning cup of tea was threatened – and the bread for breakfast had become mouldy. A quick trip down the street to pick up supplies was extended by meeting some of our friends and joining them at their breakfast for a cup of tea and sharing the SMH quiz. What is the largest island in the Society Islands group? What was Cheryl Crow’s only #1 hit in Australia? What were the two films that starred Michelle Pfeiffer and Johnny Depp? Can the questions be any more obscure? Overall, the collective mind power did pretty well.

T went out for a slow waterfront amble leaving D to be slow at our digs. A perfect morning for a stroll, with a bit of cloud cover. Sunday families at the beach, folk strolling, cafes doing good business, gallery staff passing time on screens…

In next to no time it was bbq o’clock at Clarence St again. How did people still have chatting energy? But, energy there still was in abundance. Tony hosted, food and wine was shared, laughs rolled on and the Auckland skyline, cloudy all day, put on a golden show to finish the celebrations. It has been a marvelous 3 days in Devonport.

Day 36. Monday 11 December.

The reunion is over, but another celebration takes over: today is T’s birthday. We have a day to ourselves, and plan to catch the ferry across to Auckland to visit the Maritime Museum, to do a cruise of the harbour, do some galleries, have lunch …and whatever else takes our fancy.

We stopped at the ticket counter and missed the ferry by a whisker. Just as well: the security guard gave us detailed advice on what we should do, some of which was a bit confusing, but which boiled down to a recommendation to take the ferry to Whaiheke Island, about 30 minutes down the harbour, do a walk and catch a later ferry back. So we took his advice and paid the ferry man (actually a woman) for a round trip Devonport – Whaiheke – Auckland – Devonport, and then had just a short wait to catch the boat.

The harbor was beautiful. Whaiheke was much, much larger than we’d imagined – and full of creative art outlets. A comprehensive guide on these art offerings was available, so after a bus ride into the village, and a coffee overlooking the water, we set out to visit a few of them. Glass, jewellery, wood…and jandals.

At the public library/Arts Centre, T noticed a poster advertising a NZ film released this year called ‘Human Traces’ and decided that it looked interesting: a dark thriller. T was feeling her hot feet and figured a movie would be cooling/soothing. Google told us the film was screening in Auckland at the Academy Cinemas so back on the bus, catch the waiting ferry, hurriedly walk up Queen St, dodging cruise traffic, to arrive at the 3.30 start time. Perfectly timed! There were 3 filmgoers in a large cinema!

A stroll back to the ferry terminal, punctuated by short stops to dissect the film and discuss meanings and the occasional doge to avoid the scurrying passengers from the cruise liner docked on the very edge of the city. The end of a working day saw a fairly full ferry heading back to Devonport. Needless to say there was a passenger sitting immediately behind who shared with us all a private call involving the probate of a relative’s will all the way across the harbour. Technology manners please!

T had hankered for a French Rose in a green wine glass since Saturday when a couple of the ladies had ordered it on the wharf at midday (in preparation for Saturday night). So we stopped in for that and a beer for D before heading up town to look for a dinner spot.

Passed the Esplanade Hotel and couldn’t believe our eyes that a couple of our reunion mates from Canberra were still here too, and were enjoying a quiet drink looking towards the water.

After a chat we found Manuka Café and liked the look of the menu. T ordered scallops on a parsnip/kumara mash and D fried calamari on a rocket salad, which we shared. Delicious. T then had seared tuna and D grilled salmon. These dishes were just about perfectly cooked, so together with fresh wines and excellent service this was a wonderful way to head towards the end of a lovely day.

Back to our motel to try and fit everything back into our suitcases. Oh dear!

Day 33. Friday 8 December.

A day to ourselves before the first event of the reunion in the evening. We drove to Takapuna, a shopping precinct about 5 km north of Devonport for a spot of browsing in an area which is remarkably similar to Manuka or Bondi. T was in serch of some hot weather clothing. So much for the bag of thermals from Canberra! Traffic was intense and on street parking impossible. We left as soon as we could!

Our first catch up was at the organiser’s house in Devonport, where he put on drinks and nibbles for the 51 participants and quite a few others from family and associates. Our greatest fear was not being able to recognize people from 45 years ago – but although there were a couple of minor moments, it was all ok. The babble continued for 4 hours, with continuous food platters and liquid refreshments and of course some photo bombers prevailed. The hosts were indeed generous.

Day 34. Saturday 9 December.

The NZ heat wave continues. D joined the walking tour of the North Head Historic Reserve (basically artillery batteries built to defend against invaders, including the Russians, Germans and Japanese, none of whom came) organized for the group.

T wandered into town for a coffee – catching up with whoever arrived at 1100 outside The Esplanade. The town band was playing Carols outside the Library and a different Christmas tree had been positioned next to the NZ Christmas Trees that are just coming into red bloom (Pohutukawa trees).

A trio of girls adjourned to the shade of the wharf coffee shop and got down to verbal exercise. Another pair arrived and the workout got more energetic. Later, after D had spent 45 minutes trying to track down the verbal exercising T who was not at the designated meeting spot, we lunched with long time friends, the two men having been best man and groomsman at our wedding 45 years ago (anniversary is on Thursday 14 December) before heading back to the motel for a ‘nana nap’ ahead of the dinner tonight.

Drinks in the bar pre-dinner: ‘Is this a conference?’ asked a bewildered customer as he tried to buy a drink. ‘No, it’s much worse – it’s a reunion’. We were moved into the dining room, transferring a rising babble of conversation and laughter that never seemed to peak.

Few speeches, wonderfully short, toasts to the members of the class, to their partners and to those who have passed on. The meal was excellent, the wine flowed, the stories poured out, possibly embellished, histories updated… Hotel staff were excellent, managed by a young woman who gave lots of cheek. One class mate remarked to her that she reminded him of his daughter. She replied that he reminded her of her great grandfather!

The night ended at Cinderella time as the Hotel Esplanade called last drinks. There will be hoarse voices, possibly a few sore heads, but great memories to add to the store.’

Day 32. Thursday 7 December.

Google maps told us the drive from Paihia to 11 Buchanan Street in Devonport, our last accommodation before getting back to our own bed next week, would take 3 hours and 12 minutes. That was without multiple roadworks, heavy transport traffic, slow motorhomes – and of course a stop for coffee at Bianca’s at 1956 The Coast Discovery Highway (SH Route 1) in Kaiwaka. D had asked T when did she want coffee. A good hour past the preferred time, a suitable stop was found. As T got out of the car, D said, ‘I need to talk to you about our renovations’. T was amazed as D NEVER wants to hear about reno plans. Then as she turned around, all became clear! He then added, ‘Well, we’re almost there’.

Bianca’s was a delight.

Excellent coffee, wait staff with big (good) attitude and a little clothing room to rummage in. Then onward to the big city.

On arrival (after just over four hours – well done, Google maps) we had to search for our motel, picturing from the booking site a ground-level block within a garden. Everything in the street was either 2 storeys or very colonial period. D paced the street, upsetting a yappy dog; there was nothing that looked like our booking. Eventually, seeing some signage, he approached the front door of #11, upsetting the dog again. There was a note for Unit 1, but not for us. Eventually, a young woman wrapped only in a towel and lathered in soap answered; yes, we were expected and the motel turns out to be two units behind a large old residence, with no on- site parking. The rooms are old, self-contained, neat, well looked after and comfortable, but very small; although D remarked that the space is much bigger than the van.

As we departed to walk in the town, our motel neighbours arrived, and ‘Ove’ D was able to direct them to their room, where to park, who was at home etc. They were followed in short order by ‘Prue’s mum’ – who was also put in the picture although she didn’t seem all that interested – so now we’ve met two of the three generations: just waiting for the proprietor. We’re only a street back from the beachfront and the shopping strip in Devonport, dinner has been sourced from the deli in New World (Coles), the afternoon is balmy and the beer, brie and Sicilian olives in the garden taste very good.

Today it was time to touch base with some historical matters, so a short drive to the Waitangi Treaty Grounds (the birthplace of NZ). A cultural tour gave us the overview and the context for slower exploration of the site and the story. It was hardly surprising to learn that the melding of Maori and European cultures has involved pain, compromise, pragmatism, leadership…. and time. It was fascinating to learn of the linguistic variation between the English and Maori versions of the Treaty that led to bitter conflict and that still resonates today in the area of ‘land rights’. The Museum presented a clear chronology of the Treaty and was supplemented with a video re-enactment of the signing. The restored house of James Busby and the beautifully crafted Marae, the flagstaff and the grounds provided us with several hours of quiet information.

Inside the Marae not all members of the group of visiting high school students were engaged in their excursion. The teacher told the students to touch the carvings, absorb them for ’they are your story’….a couple of boys muttered and went outside, presumably they had better things to talk about.

With a few hours to fill we then set off to Kerikeri, a ‘normal’ working town 25 kms up the road. What a difference! Unlike Paihia (totally tourist), Kerikeri is productive: food, wine, engineering, fabrication, medical facilities, lingerie shops etc etc

We had been told about a walk/drive in a kauri forest just out of Kerikeri, so with minimal signage we headed in a rough direction. Found it and the boardwalk of 5 mins took the best part of a most enjoyable hour while we marveled at nature and those magnificent tress – and practiced our newly acquired photographic tecniques.

Kauri trees are being attacked by a die-back caused by a virus or parasite that gets into the root system and then kills the trees. Apparently many national parks/forests are now closed to bushwalkers, who are not happy, and those that are open require visitors to shed their footwear before entering. Our walk of 390 metres was entirely on a raised boardwalk.

Back into town to meet up for dinner with the first of the Duntroon contingent, 2 of whom we had run into in the Countdown grocery aisle yesterday afternoon, who had in turn met the next two at a coffee shop across the bay in Russell. A lovely meal was shared at Charlotte’s on the wharf – we all chose the deep sea fish, which was lovely, washed down with NZ wines. The reunion has officially begun!