Next phase of our trip is New Zealand. We arrived in Auckland, and despite the queues and the grumbles eminiating from Americans and English folk of “this is ridiculous”, “you don’t get this back home” and “they need more man power” as we wait for our security checks, this time I am suitably un-nervy. The only incursion on my personal space is the people who for some reason, in a long queue feel the need to get right up amogst the other queuers. I’m not talking about being given room here, there was one lady who despite her husband being behind me, and my better half alongside me but towards the front end of our trolley, decided she must occupy the tiny square of space left right next to me. Every step I took I got a little glimpse of freedom, then sure enough she stole it away within moments. I have no idea why. There was plenty room next to her dude. Perhaps he smelled really bad, but I mean really bad, because I was in full travel stink mode. I looked around. There were red faced non-Kiwis everywhere, atop tippy toes, staring at the checkpoints like it was going to change everything, but not only that they were so uncomfortably close to the folk in front that they were practically dry humping, but complaining and angry while they did. I am at a loss as to why people can’t queue politely and consciously of the situation at hand and the people around them. As an island with a very unique ecosystem that is susceptible to invasive species at all levels, the subsequent measures to protect the beautiful land are quite stringent. And good on them. Rant over.

Danny, our host met us at a pub in town. We headed back to his and he gave up, nay insisted we take his own bed ready to see what’s what in the morning. Now, let me explain. We don’t know Danny. He is just a lovely dude who knows my brother. Upon hearing that we were here he said we were welcome to use his house. He had recently broken his toe at a bounce house, so was in some discomfort but still played the perfect host. I am also quite bitter as he clearly looks a lot younger than I despite this being quite not the case. He is also a conservationist working on saving Kiwis (birds, not people). What a gem. Danny Sir, we salute you!

We did a bit of moseying around St. Heliers. Lovely spot. We headed to Ponsonby and sampled some hipster area stuff with the great Andrew Kinnersly. A dude we know from Nice who had recently returned from South America complete with thouroughly amusing chat and stories from the journey.

I like Auckland, but I don’t love it. It’s alright. I do love that they have chippies here though and that they all sell potato fritters. I ate too much.

Next up we headed to Helensville. Helensville is home to one of my favourite people ever, Aisling O’Brien and an almost equally awesome person in her husband James McNab. Turns out the whole McNab clan is bread for pure wonderness. They are truly lovely people. On day one they bust out the big guns and let Conny in on some lamb slaughter, some cow wrangling and some sheep displacement. She arrived astride a quad with a grin from ear to ear.

Duncan and Jinny, James’s parents, could not have been more welcoming. I often have issues being amongst those salt of the earth, capable, farm type men who just get shut done, and usually with a good dollop of humour to boot. Duncan is one of those dudes (to be fair Jinny is the dudette equivalent). I always fear that my vegetarian, non drinking, non smoking slightly hipster looks and general girl hands will do all but endear me to these folk. I know that my Conquest of Conny is a big tick in my favour but I generally feel I am going to be misunderstood or made to feel a little awkward if not a lesser man. No such thing here. The whole family has a wonderful spirit and could not have made us feel more welcome. We went to a beach with navy blue sand, which was odd and beautiful. We played in the surf. We went to Puhoi pub and ate chips and did cartwheels. Conny rode a horse. We hung around with the 12 dogs. Conny had the most delicious meat of her existence (one of those lamb legs from day 1 went down particularly well apparently)We saw sand bars, harbours and general north island loveliness, but best of all we had a party. Ciara, Ais and James’s beautiful daughter turned 1. There was quite the turnout, more McNabs (equally as wonderful) showed up, friends, neighbours, a delightful chap who looked the spit of Sean Connery’s immortal Ramirez and all in all a blast was had. A couple of those coin-op rides you find outside supermarkets went down a treat, a teddy bear picnic and even a paddling pool with teddies replacing water served to entertain the kids, and beer and food took care of their carers. All wrapped up, when the babes were also wrapped up in their beds, by a Kiwi winning the world heavyweight boxing belt whilst we ate chip butties (with sausages from the butcher for those omniverous amongst our number). Pretty solid days entertainment I’d say.

Hanging out with Ais and James was a joy. It served to remind of the good times and wonderful to be just chatting the shit with folk I miss, but also serves as a solid reminder that we have all moved a long way from who we were back in those hazy Nice days of drinking in darkened rooms stumbling home amongst the tourists and the heat of Nice’s mid-morning sun when even those darkened dens had to let light in and chucked us out. They have a new life, not only the one they created in Ciara, which was done with fine babymaking skills, but the life they have been making as a family. Everything about what they do is ace, and they ought be congratulated for doing the life thing so well.

We both loved every second of our time with the Magnificent McNabs and we hope to see them again some day. They will all be ever welcomed in Austria when we are there.

Waiheke island is just off the coast of Auckland. It has a micro climate, and it also has a Kinnersly. Not the Andrew Kinnersly of the day out at Ponsonby, but his brother, Dan. He, as did his brother, worked with me in Nice, in fact, he worked with Conny too. Dan graciously let us use his house, he and his beautiful bride to be cooked us dinner. To be fair I think he was just showing her off, saying “look what I’ve done!” like a puppy, but rightly so, even though he’s a good dude, I’m at a loss as to know how he did it. We met his housemate Lenor, a lovely Toronto lady, who was mighty envious that we had more recently than her eaten at her favourite Toronto Mexican eatery. She even had pictures of THAT sweetcorn…mmmmmmm…that sweetcorn. We also met the cat, Fritz. Fritz was super cute, until he was chewing on your foot. Then less so.

Dan makes wine. He even made some with some grapes from Nelson, which fortuetously became a fancy gift for my Nelson-living brother. I have tasted it. It’s delicious.

I like Waiheke. It is beautiful and remote enough to tick my hermit boxes but also within striking distance of the mainland. However, back to the mainland we headed, to our old mates at Jucy to get re acquainted with a trusty steed from our past trip to NZ, the Jucy El Cheapo, but if you are not aware of what one is, you’ll have to read the next post.