Over to the North

13/03/09

We legged it to Picton this morning to catch the three hour crossing to Wellington along with a ferry load of other camper vans. It was quite windy on the deck!

We were strangely drawn to the $4 mood rings they were selling in the ferry shop and Ric wouldn't leave without us each getting one. I remember having one as a child and thinking then they changed colour according to one's on temperature alone, but they are still amusing things to have! Mine is always a different colour to Ric's.

I don't want to offend anyone and it may well be the capital of New Zealand but Wellington didn't seem particularly exciting and it was damn windy, so rather than hanging around there for a few days to try to get to know it better, we quickly headed north west to New Plymouth which is situated right next to the volcano Taranaki (or Mt Egmont as it is also known), just in time for Womad, a world music, art and dance festival.

Having been sober and without other friends to hang out with for some time, we decided not to bother with the three day ticket and just went for the Saturday instead. It was good fun; the weather couldn't have been better, the music was easy on the ear and the Pukekura Park setting is gorgeous but it was very different from the festivals with which we (particuarly Ric) are so familiar back home. There were plenty of strange looking hippy types so in that sense it was like Glastonbury and there were a lot of people just chilling on the lawns much like they do at Big Chill (and the others when the weather is conducive), but this was moreover a festival for families (with children of all ages) and was about drinking coffee, not beer, about eating gourmet pizzas, not illegal drugs and about flushing loos and wash basins instead of filthy long-drops.

Some of the Maori music was interesting but none of it was especially captivating and we found ourselves feeling restless a few times. I'm sure that if we were locals here it would be much more exciting and we would be a lot more involved. We noticed quite a few mixed race families. more so than anywhere else we have been so far. Aside from the usual coconut hat, jewellery and food stalls, was the more unusual festival offering of a tattoo 'studio' where people (us included) gathered to watch members of the public subjecting themselves to the tattooist's needle (don't worry, I wasn't even a little bit tempted Mummy).

In between the main stage and its audience was a large pond and it was highly amusing hearing the occasional quack and watching the ducks preen themselves, flap about, squabble with each other and/or sleep on the water as if they were oblivious to the several thousand people sitting there in front of them.

Poor Ric; we weren't searched on our way in to the park the first time but on our re-entry (we went back to the van to change in to shorts and flip-flops) security searched Ric's bag and told him he couldn't take his three bottles of beer in. Not wanting it to go to waste he opted to drink them at the gate, much to the amusement of all the ladies doing the ticket checks. I wish I could have helped but that Steinlager tastes foul!

Tomorrow, with just ten days left here in New Zealand, we are off to Waitomo Glowworm Caves.