Wellington stop over

For some of my chores in Wellington to make sense it’d be helpful to declare that Wellington isn’t the end of my trip and I won’t be directly returning to the UK. The ‘maybe more…’ meant I was flying elsewhere to complete a bit more touring. However, more of that later.

So after having settled in with Paul I had to go into Wellington to sort a few matters out. Paul is a peripatetic Lancastrian who splits his time between NZ and the UK. Sensibly he spends the better weather months in the respective countries. Despite his youthful looks Paul is long retired and amongst various pastimes he lets the property in full or part as an Airbnb. His guests are fortunate to have this accommodation so close to the city albeit they may need a head for heights.

The good folk of New Plymouth not only retained my soap box/holder but also a pair or trousers that I absent mindedly left hung up in a hotel room wardrobe. These needed replacing. Wellington has several outdoor clothing shops so this wasn’t a difficult to resolve. Next came the purchase of a hold-all bag that I would need to haul some stuff on the flight before abandoning it in my next hotel room. I then needed to visit an optician to see if they could adjust my spectacle frames to more tightly grip my face: elsewhere I’ve raved about Asda glasses. I’m starting to understand why they were so cheap. Lastly, there was the need to get my bicycle serviced along with obtaining a box to ship it in. That was accomplished although timing was tight for me to get the job done and then get the box back to the accommodation to pack it. This was a stressful part of the departure process and I knew it was coming. I did have difficulty sleeping worrying about all this coming together with a fixed flight ticket already purchased. Anyway it did.

So after that it was time for sightseeing, fine dining, drinking and err… ukulele playing,

I used to strum an acoustic guitar but never a ukulele but I had one thrust into my mitts and given a few chords to learn. Amongst 40 other players and a band no one could hear what a mess I was making of it all. I did tell one other players that in fact I was playing all the right notes but necessarily in the right order!

We had a look inside part of the NZ Parliament complex. A small and serene affair with, predictably, a lot of security to get in and out.

There was a lot of imbibing and much to both our amazement Mango IPA was very drinkable.

Paul was an excellent chef. He knocked this up at a canter. Fabulous. I’d not seen proper vegetables since the UK. I must try them again.

Sadly none waddled into view.

‘William’ flew in for a date (piece of fruit not dinner, a movie and how’s your father…) that I fed to him by hand. Me scared I’d lose a finger? Certainly! He was very gentle. These birds are now prolific locally after earlier concerns over their numbers.

The local Botanic Gardens were a local joy and strolling around the different vegetation was delightful.

With 24 hour news we watched the result in mid afternoon although it was Stupid O’Clock in Blighty. I have considerable challenges working out what day it is and the time back in the UK. Missing out on the politics isn’t a loss but following the football is a struggle.

Wellington has many hills. One early 20th century piece of infrastructure still runs up one hill and this is a tram. At the top we looked at its museum and then entered the Botanical Gardens.

Paul illustrating a sundial involving the observer putting their feet in certain positions and raising their arms. Wellington only occasionally kept to its side of the bargain by providing sun.

There are always interesting people. At 85 it’s a long time since he’s left Glasgow. In the interim working in Nicaragua, Australia and NZ kept him occupied. He was a fellow strummer at the ukulele class and told me a touching story of how he was dealing with all the time created by his now dearly departed wife. She’d left him with three instructions. First, get fit. He’s had several minor heart attacks. So now he goes to Pilates and has new friends from that. Secondly, he works at maintaining links with existing family. In the offing is a get together with a brother in Australia. Her last one was find a challenge: this is where the ukulele comes in. I’m not sure how good he’d become as I seldom looked around whilst I personally attempted to move my wooden digits around the fretboard. A very nice man getting on with life. I salute you sir.

On our tour of bars we found some excellent live music. Sadly I reverted to music critic mode about the song selection. Paul heard me out and we ended up bellowing to 80s classics in another bar… ‘Just a small town girl, living’ in a lonely world / Just a city boy born and raised in south Detroit…’

Lastly, Paul and I found our way to an upmarket restaurant for some fine dining and a little Merlot Cabernet Franc. All delicious.

So after exhausting the services of my chef, tour guide, landlord, chauffeur, carer and ukulele instructor I was ferried to the airport to embark on the next stage. Thank you Paul. Immense.