A Summer Holiday in Aotearoa New Zealand

Image of an artwork in Christchurch Art Gallery with the text Maori Sovereignty Never Ceded to the Crown

There comes a moment towards the end of every holiday when, no matter how much fun you’re still having, it becomes clear that it’s time for you to go home.

Mine came on our final evening at Millbrook – a beautiful and slightly swanky golf resort where we spent the last three nights of our recent trip to Aotearoa New Zealand. Walking back from dinner in the evening sun, toenails twinkling red, linen trousers rippling in the gentlest of breezes, stomach full of delicious food… I was feeling relaxed. Perhaps a little too relaxed.

Thinking we were alone, I stopped on the path back to our suite, turned to my family, and bust out a spectacular, head-banging, full-body rendition of the drum solo from Phil Collins ‘In the Air Tonight’.

But it turns out we weren’t alone at all, and the group of elderly women coming towards us on the path were not, in fact, a very enthusiastic audience. I think it may have taken them a moment to recover.

“Oh my God,” I heard my husband and son muttering behind me. “Definitely time to go home.” Continue reading

Off the island

An Air New Zealand wing tip with blue sky behind

It was our first trip out of Tasmania in more than two and a half years, and I reckon it’s fair to say we were all a little rusty. 

DorkySon was now so tall, and so out of practice at air travel, that the simple act of standing up from his seat caused him to bang his head on the buttons above and accidentally call the flight crew. DorkyDad gave an Auckland taxi driver the tip of a lifetime when he glanced over and read the frequency of the radio station we were listening to rather than the metered fare. And I packed a comprehensive first aid kit that contained absolutely everything except the one thing we actually needed. 

However, as international travel goes, it couldn’t really have been more convenient. A direct flight from Hobart to Auckland. One night in Auckland. A quick flight down to Wellington for five nights there. One more night in Auckland on the return leg, and then back across the Tasman for home. Short flights and a time difference of only two hours meant that for once, jet lag wasn’t an issue. 

We were there to see dear friends – a couple who have known DorkyDad since his high school and college days. We saw one of them six years ago – on our chaotic trip to South Carolina that coincided with Hurricane Matthew. But it had been nine years since we had seen the other – when DorkySon was just four. They live in the US, but were over visiting family in Windy Welly, and it made sense for us to hop over at the same time. A New Zealand trip is so much quicker, easier and more affordable than that long, long flight to the East Coast.  Continue reading