29 December 2024

This is being typed, whilst sitting on the Bluebridge Ferry “Strait Feronia” on the 30^th. Having left at 1.34pm.

But now we’re looking back to a different form of transport.

Our long bus trip finally arrived in Wellington at about 6.30 am. We stumbled off the bus, thanked the driver, had a sort out in the concourse, and then hauled our bags over the road to the Downtown Backpackers. This Art Deco style building was once a full-on hotel called the Waterloo Hotel. One so flash that the late Queen Elizabeth II stayed there. And I have to tell you, that she wouldn’t be seen there in her current state.

Not that it’s a bad place to stay when in Wellington. The room we eventually got was clean, had its own ensuite, and we had a good night’s sleep. We were probably too exhausted to do otherwise.

Anyway, before that we straggled into the reception and asked to book in. As it was prior to checkout time of 10am, let alone check in time of 3.00pm, we couldn’t go to our room. However I doubt that we’re the first to arrive on what other trips have been called the redeye run, as they could put our cases into a locker and we were welcome to take the access key to the lounge and have a sleep on the couches there. This we gratefully accepted. We each found a couch, got out my pillow (and my neck cushion, which I let Pen use as a pillow), covered myself with my “Keep Calm and Call International Rescue” blanket, put on the eye mask was too hot to wear with the face mask on the bus, placed the cover that the pillow and blanket had been residing in under my feet – and promptly went to sleep.

We both woke up about 1.5 hours later, still somewhat groggy, but feeling a little more alive. After a bit of a wash we decided that we needed a sugar hit of some type to up our glucose levels, so we went hunting for a café that served breakfast at 8.00 am. Not an easy task the Sunday between Christmas and New Years in a city that’s being decimated by the current government’s desire to save money no matter what the consequences are to people’s wellbeing.

But, having said that, we did find a café nearby that sold what I thought were somewhat doughy, but edible pancakes and homemade lemon, honey, and ginger tea.

We could feel our energy levels get a much-needed boost.

As we still had hours before we could check in proper, and the weather was quite good for Wellington, we went for a walk around town, starting with the Parliament grounds. If you didn’t know it had happened, you wouldn’t even be aware that the area had been occupied for some days, culminating in a riot that burnt down the playground and some trees in the grounds.

The Beehive

We also checked out the rata in the grounds of the Old Government Buildings (now Victoria University’s School of Law). Being both part of the Metrosideros genus, many think that they are extra intensely coloured Pōhutukawa, but when you get up close, you can see that not only are the flowers more orangey, the flowers have larger “bulbs” that they sprout from.

It was about now that I came to the conclusion that the sun was too intense to be outside bareheaded, so I guided Pen to the Maritime Museum on the waterfront and dashed back for my hat.

When I rejoined her, I noticed that the New Zealand Portrait Gallery had a retrospective of Sir Toss Woolaston’s work.

Who the heck is that?

He’s a nationally renowned painter and we happen to have a painting by him at home. As it’s one of his early works, and therefore you can actually see who it is, then it won’t be worth much. But we’ve got it because Toss Woolaston wanted to go to Nelson, but he didn’t have the money for it. So he told Nan’s cousin that he’d paint his portrait in exchange for the boat fare. Uncle Fred wasn’t too keen, but in the end, he conceded and we’ve got that painting (including prevenance) hanging on the wall at home.

Because of this “family interest” and the exhibition was free, I suggested that we go in there for a brief look, which Pen agreed to. And it was basically in, once around the room, and out because, as I implied, I don’t like his work much.

It was starting to get really hot by this stage and Pen was looking for Peter Jackson’s biography. One second hand bookshop directed her to another, who did have it – in large hardback form, which isn’t great for lugging around the world. So she’d going to continue looking.

We went to a supermarket and bought our lunch and dinner and then took it back to the Waterloo Hotel/Downtown Backpackers, with a detour to what had been the BNZ bank. (I think.) What’s interesting about this place, apart from the way it’s been done up, is that down in the basement is what’s known as Plimmer’s Ark. In other words, the remains of John Plimmer’s boat had been found beneath the bank, taken away to be preserved and were then returned.

By the time we’d done all that and eaten our sushi lunch, it was just on 3.00pm and we were able to get the card to our room and hand in our general pass cards…

Once I’d found mine.

I’m finding with these things that I’ve lost, that I’ve put them in a safe place where I’ll know where they are and then forget where they are. This time, after searching my expected pockets, and returning to the dining area, and wondering where else it could be, I found it safely secured in my zip up breast pocket.

Like I think I said before, we had a good room with ensuite, even if I was concerned that it was going to be a little hot because of the low ceilings… Although Pen claimed they were high. Not compared to my house they’re not!

After doing a little blog recording and Lylo researching, I did a bit of emailing. I’d given Pen a personalised luggage label for Christmas and it had come out of this morning’s bus trip broken in half. As it had only travelled from Rangitoto to Auckland and then Auckland to Wellington, it didn’t last very well. The other thing I put in a warranty claim for was my water bottle. It too is personalised, but it had been getting harder and harder to remove the lid. Especially once the O-ring had slipped off and I’d had to hurriedly replace it – probably into the wrong place.

After our half a roast chicken and salad for tea, we went for a walk to find a place that sold hot chocolate. We ended up at the restaurant attached to the Ibis Hotel.

Following that, we retired to our beds to type up yesterday’s blog.

Steps = 21,144

Kilometres = 14.6