Auckland – Robins Have Wings

4 January, 20147 January, 2014

Oh, the People You Meet in Auckland, New Zealand

Awhitia Mihaere is a true force of nature. We don’t find this out right away. It reveals itself slowly, like the plot in a good mystery, and with each story she tells or life experience she shares. We get a clue when we meet her outside the Auckland Art Gallery or Toi o Tāmaki in Maori. (The Maori name of the gallery is important to note, as you’ll see later.) We were running late to meet her and we apologize. She tells us that it was no problem because it gave her more time to meditate and she greets us with a warm embrace.

I have even more of a hint of Awhitia’s powers than Tanya. When I told my friend Lisa that I was planning to go to New Zealand, she told me that I had to meet Awhitia. Lisa was attending a women’s leadership conference in Bali when she saw Awhitia give an incredible speech in her native Maori language. She knew she had to meet her. Lisa’s friendship with Awhitia becomes my good fortune and one of the best days in New Zealand so far.

Toi o Tāmaki turns out to best place to meet Awhitia because each piece of art within seems to release an intense reflection, memory or personal story for her. For instance, I tell her that I am struck by the presence of a Maori translation with every art piece. She tells us that she joined a march in Auckland with thousands of other Maori to push Parliament to have Maori recognized as the official language of New Zealand, Aotearoa in Maori, meaning the land of the long white cloud. In 1990, Auckland did just that and now Maori translations must appear in its public spaces, on signs and buildings.

SONY DSC — Awhitia with one of her favorite paintings, “This Land is Ours.”

A painting called “This Land is Ours,” by Buck Nin, inspires more protest talk. It depicts a 1975 march from the northern town of Te Haupa to Wellington led by Dame Whina Cooper to protest the loss of Maori land at the hands of the government with the rallying cry, “Not one more acre of Maori land.” As Awhitia tells the story behind the painting she beams with pride, remembering a Maori heroine in Cooper and her own role, joining the march as a teen. She seem so moved that I had to ask to take a picture of her next to the painting, which made her ecstatic. She pumped her fists in the air after I snapped the shot.

Awhitia’s activism actually seems to be her way of life, tightly woven into everything she does. She started a school in her home that has grown into a Maori institution that teaches students the Maori language, cultural arts and healing. She’s also a traditional birthing practitioner, helping modern Maori women give birth the way their ancestors did through ancient practices that her ancestors taught her. Besides massaging Maori women’s bellies with traditional oils during labor she encourages them to practice old traditions like having their placenta read to learn their child’s life path and then burying it in a place of their choosing so that the child always has a place to call home. Tanya and I think this one of the most beautiful concepts we’ve ever heard, and it’s at about this point that we start to realize that we are in the presence of a force of nature.

As we continue through the gallery, Awhitia shares more about the bright, bold pieces that we see and her connections to them. For one thing, she’s friends with the indigenous curator of the museum and she knows many of the artists. She points out paintings by some of the first Maori graduates of Auckland’s prestigious Elam School of Art and others that showcase Maori patterns. When we see an installation featuring provocatively titled books and colorful, primitively molded sculptures, the books remind her of her work as an indigenous cultural adviser in a prison, where she advised the prison on Maori traditions that should be up held by law. She brought romiromi traditional massage healing practices into the prisons along with an ancient traditional Hawaiian practice of peace and forgiveness, ho’oponopono, practiced by her husband and his people. Tanya and I can’t believe that we’ve uncovered another facet of this woman’s life and we tell her so. She admits that she’s had to scale back her prison work because of the negative energy, but also because her mother told her that she was doing too much.

Awhitia’s stories inspire us to share our own stories of race and culture in the US. We admire her ability to trace her ancestry to its beginnings, something many African-Americans try desperately to do. She said the movie “Lincoln” infuriated her because while Lincoln legally freed the slaves, she says they weren’t free because they were taken from their land, moved from one continent to another. For her, and in Maori culture, owning your own land and having a place to call yours is the essence of freedom.

This inspires Awhitia to share her ancestors with us. We search the gallery for a small room featuring gilded framed paintings of stately looking Maori men and women. She points to a grey-haired and bearded man with a serene face filled with tattoos from hairline to chin. “This is my ancestor,” she says proudly. Ihaka Whanga is her great grandfather 3 times removed on her mother’s side. Then she points to her ancestor on her father’s side Tawahaio Matutaera, who bears a more fierce countenance wearing shark teeth earrings and carrying a weapon made of whale bone that can lop a rival’s head off. Both men were chiefs of different tribes. Ihaka Whanga of the Ngāti Kahungunu and Tawahaio Matutaera of the Tainui, but both men wear the face tattoos known as Ta Moko from hairline to chin, indicating their status as chiefs and carrying their genealogy lines with one side of the face tracing the maternal line and the other the paternal line.

We think it is incredible that these leaders have been immortalized in oil and given a place in the gallery. Awhitia says that she is grateful that she always has a place to visit her ancestors and she thanks them for letting us spend time with them before we leave the gallery. We continue to bond over lunch at a down town sushi spot where Awhitia shares photos of her children, grandchildren and her Hawaiian hubby who is also a lomilomi practitioner, working with her in the art of massage in the birthing process. It was great to learn more about her family and we all feel like we’ve been girlfriends since forever.

After lunch we go for a stroll in Albert Park, bordered by the art gallery and Auckland University. It’s a lovely vibrant green oasis on a hill in the middle of the city with perfectly placed bursts of hot pink and purple flowers. We are drawn to the pretty iron fountain at its center and we sit on a bench nearby to let the sun warm our shoulders. And then we do what best girlfriends do. We take selfies. It was a perfect way to spend an afternoon and a great way to gain a genuine sense of a place through a very genuine person.

More than its monuments and natural landmarks, it’s the people that make a place and this turns out to be the theme for our third day in New Zealand. Tanya and I decided that we wanted to check out Auckland’s party scene our last night in the city. We set out down Ponsonby Road on a Thursday night to find almost every restaurant and bar closed. We’d pretty much give up around 10 pm when we decide to head back home, but we are stopped by the sound of karaoke crooners at a bar called Poof decorated with a comic strip theme. We’d walked past earlier in the evening and it was totally dead. Tanya said, “It’s karaoke, you know I have to go in.” And, I know she does. It’s the only thing happening on Ponsonby, so I’m game, too.

Tanya doesn’t really need to look at the songbook to know that she’s going to sing “Proud Mary.” But we look anyway to see if we can find a song that we can sing together. I never get the phrasing on Proud Mary right. That’s when Odin appears. He basically asks what we are doing there. He’s polite about it, but it’s clear that he’s shocked to find two black girls in a bar in Auckland, especially, two black girls in a gay bar in Auckland. Things start clicking. There’s a big Roy Lichtenstein-style painting on the wall saying, “We are the rainbow people.” Tanya remembers that the word “Poof” in Britain is often used to reference gay men. Then it hits me that there are way more men here than women. Odin continues his inquiry, he keeps asking, “Where are you really from?” After convincing him that we are from Washington, DC and that we are in Auckland on vacation, he invites us to hang out with his other friends, who are a few of the other straight people in the place.

Odin, Scott and Craig have taken their married friend Brett for a night out and the only place they can find is this spot. Scott tells us that Jan. 2 is some sort of national holiday and that’s why everything is closed. We pretty much have the same conversation with Scott as we did with Odin explaining how two black girls walked into a gay bar on Ponsonby Road in Auckland and with all the pleasantries dispensed folks start singing. Odin has decided that he and I should sing a song together and suggests, “The Power of Love.” I’m thinking Huey Lewis and the News, so it sounds good to me. But before we sing, Tanya, who has perfected her Tina Turner impression, decided to turn the bar out with Proud Mary complete with hair tossing and shimmying. There isn’t a crowd more appreciative than this group of gay men.

Then I find myself called to sing with Odin, who up until this point has been telling me how beautiful he thinks I am and I keep thanking him, flattered while noticing that he may be a tad drunk. It is very apparent later in the evening when he is walking around the bar with one flip flop on. At the point we start to sing, he has two flip-flops on, at least, I think, and I realize that I haven’t a clue what song we are singing. Never heard it before and I can’t catch the melody because Odin cannot sing. He is the epitome of bad karaoke singers in flip-flops. So, as he sings to me I try to jump in when I think I hear the hook, but our duet is tanking horribly and it’s one of those really long songs with like 10 verses. It’s as bad as it sounds. When it ends, Odin says, “I totally carried you.” He’s a funny dude. So, I think I’ll be his friend, in fact, Tanya and I decide we like these guys. Scott and Brett are in a band so they pretty much kill all the old 80s rock songs and Scott steps in to help a couple of girls failing horribly at singing “Roxanne.” You can clearly tell who has karaoke standards and know their way around a karaoke song book and those who don’t, but it’s all good and its all love in the only bar open in Ponsonby.

Scott really wants to impress us with more of his rock stylings and invites us back to his place for a jam session with the guys. I still have to pack before we leave for Rotorua and it’s 1 am, but Tanya is raring to go. “It’s our last night in Auckland,” she says. I know she’s right. This is part of the adventure. So, I gotta go. We do a very Kiwi thing on the walk to Scott’s and stop for meat pies at the local gas station. Well, they do and I just have a taste. Brett gets a Thai Chicken meat pie that wasn’t that bad. Craig, who once lived in San Fran and now lives in London, gets the traditional cheese and meat pie, which was pretty disgusting. The interior looked to be the consistency of mud.

After consuming meat pies, Scott breaks out a 2001 issue of the British Marie Claire featuring Odin as the bachelor of the month, his wide blue eyes staring out from its page. He answers questions like what’s his favorite movie: “There’s Something About Mary” and his favorite city, “London.” It’s awesome. The guys immediately start teasing Scott for having the magazine so accessible in his room with the page dog-eared. More wholesome hijinks ensure and we settle into Scott’s den converted into a music studio and listen to him and Brett play their favorite songs, mostly from Brit and Aussie bands, because there aren’t many popular Kiwi bands. Then he goes Canadian with some Bryan Adams. They aren’t bad. Tanya is enjoying herself thoroughly and doesn’t look like she wants to leave. But all good things must come to an end. We met some fabulous people in Auckland on our last day and we wish we’d had more time to spend getting to know them. But we’ve got to go. We have more adventures ahead in Rotorua.

2 January, 201428 March, 2014

Wine Tasting and Good Company on New Zealand’s Waiheke Island

By the end of our Waiheke Island Wine Tour, Tanya and I are tightly hugging our fellow tour-goers and our guide, Wayne. It could be that we are really tipsy or we just really like them. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. When Wayne picked us up from the Waiheke ferry, we had no idea what to expect other than tasting some good New Zealand wine.

We already enjoyed our 40-minute ride from the Auckland Ferry Terminal across the slightly green-hued Hauraki Gulf to Waiheke. Despite the grey skies and light sprinkles, it’s a pretty ride. I was particularly struck by the old Auckland Ferry Building, a marigold-colored edifice, standing stark against Auckland’s more modern steel structures. Families gravitate to the rear deck to snap the perfect shot with the Auckland skyline as a backdrop. Arriving at Matiatia Bay on Waiheke is just as picturesque with its mouth holding a nice collection of sparkling white sailboats and yachts.

So, when we exit the ferry, we are ready to taste more of Waiheke and drinking wine is always better with good company. It turns out we have good company in fellow Americans, Steve and John from Chicago, Mike and Vee from Christchurch and Mei and Dan from Singapore by way of the UK. We didn’t know we’d all be the best of wine tasting buddies right away; that came after four or five glass tasting flights at three impressive New Zealand wineries.

We start at Jurassic Ridge Vineyard and Winery operated by the impressive Lance Blumhardt, a former geologist and neurologist turned award-winning vitaculuralist, specializing in vegan wines. He’s already pouring wine for another group when we arrive and we squeeze into his tiny tasting room for our firsts tastes of New Zealand wine. We politely sip his Syrah Rose and Sauvignon Blanc, trading places with the first group between pours. One of the ladies in the group happens to be from the Washington, DC area, too, Great Falls, VA in specific. She lives in New Zealand now and she and a friend from LA are on a road trip across the country. She complains that her friend keeps getting into the drivers side of the car before realizing her mistake in a country where the driver sits on the right, not the passenger. As we chat about the DC area, the woman from LA throws out a statistic noting more men per capita than women in DC. Tanya and I look at her incredulously and ask, “Really?” But this conversation sounds like something from an episode of “Sex in the City.” Back to the wine.

With the Jurassic Ridge tasting room all to us, our tour group starts to loosen up a bit. Particularly when Lance pours his baby, a Montepulciano that calls his Sophia Lauren of wines. It’s Italian, round and full-bodied. Naturally, this wine gets a lot of attention, winning a gold medal and champion trophy in New Zealand’s top wine awards. It seems to be well deserved. The Montepulciano is delicious. It’s fruit forward with a hint of spice, like my favorites reds, Zinfandels and Malbecs. While enjoying this flavorful concoction, I ask Lance if there are similarities between his life as a neurologist and a winemaker. First, he says the obvious, doctors and wine makers like to drink wine. But then he says something unexpected, cleaning. He says just like in a operating room, you have to keep wine making equipment sterile to keep out bacteria or anything to alter the winemaking process. I’m tempted to buy the Montepulciano, but this is just our first stop. Mike and Vee have been here before though and they stock up before leaving.

We drive deeper into Waiheke to reach our next winery, Obsidian, on the way Wayne shares more about the history of the island through his own family history. He’s a native to Waiheke and his great-great grandfather came to the island during a particularly violent period in New Zealand. The British were intent up on removing the indigenous Maori from the land and paid men to fight in exchange for the land that they would eventually take from the Maori. He talks about the Musket Wars in Waiheke, in which one Maori tribe decimated all its rivals when its chief was introduced to the musket.

But the Obsidian Vineyard is nothing but peaceful. The tasting space is outdoors under an awning in full view of the vines. We start again with a Rose, followed by a great Chardonnay, stored in recycled oak barrels for a more balanced blend of oak, citrus and butter flavors. I see that Steve is impressed and Tanya and I definitely like it. So much so that we get bottles later. We also taste their Montepulciano, Syrah and Reserve Cabernet Merlot. All seem to be on the more mellow side, smoother and maybe lighter than what we tasted at Jurassic Ridge, but still good in its own way. Wayne and the sommelier here share more about the history of wines in New Zealand, noting that the country has only been growing wine for 35 years. I’m surprised to hear this because you always seem to hear about how great New Zealand wines are. Their reputation suggest years of cultivation, so to speak. But the explosion of vineyards has only occurred recently.

Our final stop on the wine tour is apart of this explosion and where our wino bonding really took place. The Peacock Sky Vineyard is the perfect setting with rows and rows of vines blanketing the nearby hills and the quaint tasting room nestled below. Wayne tells us that peacocks actually frequent the place, released by a woman who once owned them. Besides the beautiful landscape, the table scape for our tasting is pretty eye-catching, too. Our sommelier is already pouring pale pink sparkling wine into our glasses and there is an assortment of goodies placed neatly on a tasting card to be paired with our wines. It’s almost too pretty to eat, but at the same time, we can’t wait.

First, we are encouraged to taste the sparkling wine and we happily oblige, toasting each other a Happy New Year. Next we try a Chardonnay and we are instructed to do a mouthwash to taste the citrusy burn along the sides of the tongue. Then we taste a bite of what looks to be chicken salad in a pastry with the Chardonnay and the citrus magically disappears. Their wines seem to have more magical properties. Their Rose enhances the red peppery spice of a tomato soup, an oaky Merlot Malbec turns chocolately with a piece of gooey fruitcake. We all marvel at the transformations taking place in our mouths. Tanya and I say this is the best fruitcake we’ve every tasted, it’s moistness dispelling any thought of using at a doorstopper. Steve tells us that his grandmother made a delicious fruitcake that he remembers from his childhood. In his attempt to recreate it, he found that molasses was the secret to the moist texture.

We start to learn more about each other through stories like these over a gorgeous and delicious lunch, which we pair with more wine and champagne. We learn that Mike’s nickname is Stubby from his last name Stubberfield and that he and Vee used to throw incredible parties. Mei and Dan talk about life in Singapore. We talk about politics in the US, UK and Christchurch and we even talk about moonshine. There seems to be no end to the things you can favorably discuss with a little help from some well-fermented grapes. This leads to all the hugging at the start of this post. We hug when we exit the van at the ferry, thinking it will be our final goodbye, then we realize that we are all boarding the same ferry. We hug again when we disembark. The wine definitely has something to do with this, but we genuinely like these people and we hope to stay in touch.

At the ferry terminal, we realize that we are steps away from Auckland’s Viaduct. Steve and John are staying at the Hilton modeled for a cruise ship near by. Steve mentions that the area was redeveloped for the America’s Cup in 2000. They point the way to the outdoor space before we hug yet again.

The rain from earlier in the day has completely dissipated and the sun has returned with a vengeance. We peel off our layers and embrace the heat with a slow stroll along the Viaduct. Here are some of the things we saw along the way.

1 January, 2014

Ringing in the New Year in Cozy Digs and a Cool ‘Hood in New Zealand

Tanya loves our AirBnB home away from home. I’m standing outside of our rented garden apartment with our luggage while she screams, “Oh my God! It’s so cute! It’s so cute!” immovable inside the doorway. She’s like someone who just won the car on the “Price is Right,” unable to contain her glee. When I get inside I’m totally with her. There is no other way to describe this place but cute, not cute in a saccharine way, cute in that cozy Anthropologie way. If you are a woman and you’ve shopped at Anthropologie, you know what I mean. It’s perfectly accessorized with neatly framed wall hangings and interesting coffee table books.

Tanya Chattman — Tanya beeming in our AirBnB appartment

It’s like our AirBnB host Kirsten is speaking to us through the blue-tinted Wonder Woman sketch (of the Lynda Carter Wonder Woman, of course) hanging in the dining room and she’s saying, “Stay awhile.” We like her. We like her a lot. I suggested to Tanya that we stay in an AirBnB home because the site that allows people to rent their homes to travelers has taken the travel world by storm and I wanted to give it a try. I knew a few people who stayed in AirBnB spots and loved them. We feel like we’ve hit pay dirt. Tanya says it’s so much better than staying in a hotel. It makes us feel like locals and it’s the perfect launching spot for our New Zealand adventures.

I’ve come to be in New Zealand because of my friend, Tanya. New Zealand wasn’t really on my bucket list. But, by now, you know how I travel. I’m an opportunistic traveler. I travel when the opportunity arises and Tanya tapped me to be her travel companion on her dream trip to New Zealand. When I say dream trip, I mean that literally. Tanya had a dream that she would go to New Zealand one day, even before the Lord of the Rings Trilogy that she loves so much. When she awoke from her dream, she started saving mileage points and when she had enough, after years of business travel, she said, “Robin, you have to go to New Zealand with me.” She knows I can’t turn down a good travel invite, so here I am in Middle Earth.

After sipping tea and coffee on Kirsten’s balcony, lined with potted herbs and petunias, we step out to explore our new neighborhood, Ponsonby, which happens to be one of the trendiest hoods in New Zealand and another reason why we love our new home away from home. We are two blocks from Ponsonby Road, the main drag, one long continuous row of boutiques, restaurants and cafes with outdoor patios. The robust entertainment console on our Air New Zealand flight, complete with a concierge section, said that brunch was a big deal in Auckland and recommended a place called the Richmond Rd Café in Ponsonby and we go in search of good food.

The search turned out to be longer than expected. According to Google Maps, the Richmond Rd Café was a 25 minute walk from Ponsonby Road, which when we started out, didn’t seem that far. The walk took us through Ponsonby’s picture-perfect residential streets with real white picket fences covered in bougainvillea and other exotic flora. Soon we stared to appreciate our home and gardens tour, marveling at each Victorian-style bungalow. And then we started to feel a little uncomfortable when we caught a couple walking across the street staring at us. Tanya smiled and waved hello. They smiled and waved hello back, but we suspect that we look a little out of place. Then a car drives by and someone yells something inaudible, but rude sounding from the window. We hope it’s not what we think and we continue undeterred. Finally, we reach the café, not near other cafes or restaurants, but a block away from a supermarket and next to New Zealand’s version of a Pet Smart. We are wondering how anyone could recommend a place so far off the beaten track, but then again, as a traveler, you are always looking to do what the locals do and here they do brunch at the Richmond Rd. Café.

The menu is short. There’s breakfast or lunch, so we opt for breakfast. But first we have a couple of questions. What’s the “agria” in the Truffled agria loaf with wilted greens poached egg and a choice of bacon or Portobello mushrooms. Our waitress explains that agria is a type of potato mashed and served in a style that is somewhere between a hash brown and a potato pancake. I’m sold. Tanya asks about a dish with “hallumi,” it’s a type of cheese made from goat’s or ewe’s milk. She opts for the agria, too. It comes out super crisp in the shape of a triangle jutting from our plates and decorated with the egg, spinach and the most glorious layer of bacon, I’ve ever seen. It was quite tasty and our waitress was happy to welcome and make conversation with two Americans. She said it was good that we came when we did because on New Years Day there’s a line to get into the place.

With hunger satisfied, we make our way back to what we call the “real Ponsonby,” with way more foot traffic. A little brick alley marked “The Lane, caught our attention. The gated green space filled with outdoor eateries was attached to the Ponsonby Produce Market, which was also attached to a bakery. We decide to stop to get a few things for the fridge in our apartment. I love markets anywhere and this one is adorable. Tanya is a cheese fiend so we stop by the cheese counter where we meet James, who hands us several samples and then Tanya sees her cheese. It is, actually, a cheese bearing her name, spelled Tania, and she has to have it. Turns out it was pretty good. James asks why we’ve come to Auckland and we tell him that we are here for New Year’s. He’s dumbfounded. New Year’s, he asks? It’s clear that he wants to know why we’d come to Auckland to celebrate New Year’s and we explain that are doing more than celebrating New Year’s in Auckland. He seems relieved to hear this and suggests that we go to Mt. Edna for some of the best views of the city.

But there are some pretty good views right on Ponsonby Road, Auckland’s landmark the Sky Tower, a seemingly distant cousin of Seattle’s Space Needle in Toronto’s CN Tower, pops up over buildings and slips out from side streets as we walk. We walk as far as we can, taking note of cool places to eat or grab a drink later during our stay. On our way back to the apartment, I’m intrigued by a park with pieces of buildings strewn about its grounds. The pieces are part of an installation to beware of urban sprawl and the loss of old buildings filled with history. Western Park has a history all its own as Auckland’s oldest park. Further exploration reveals an oasis in the middle of Ponsonby and another great view of the Sky Tower. We let one of the steep trails lead us down a hill to a bench where we worshipped the sun and communed with birds, before heading back to the apartment to really rest before celebrating New Year’s.

We contemplate several New Year’s options and settle on dinner in the Britomart area at one of Auckland’s Top 50 best restaurants, Café Hanoi, a modern Vietnamese dining establishment with a moody interior of exposed brick and sparse wooden tables and chairs that somehow feel cozy. We start with a Cava to toast the close of 2013 and the beginning of 2014 and have some of the freshest spring rolls we’ve ever had. But our pick for the best dish at Café Hanoi is the Bún chá, Hanoi-style grilled pork with rice noodles and basil and mint, served in the tastiest broth ever. We used our ladle-shaped spoons to scoop up every last drop.

Our plan after dinner was to linger in the Britomart area to have a drink and find a place to watch fireworks, but many places in the downtown destination, hot with Auckland’s young and the hip, were reserved for ticketed events. So, we follow the crowd to the Sky Tower, which we are told is the source of the New Year’s Eve fireworks. The streets have been blocked for pedestrian traffic and we stand at the intersection of Queen and Victoria streets to await the light show. A diverse crowd thickens around us with mobile phones and cameras poised for the big moment. A flickering of the Sky Tower’s pinnacle starts the countdown and at midnight a blaze of fireworks shoot from its top in a gorgeous display. We join in with the ohs and ahhs with each fantastic burst. The display ends with the Sky Tower bathed in multicolored glow. The crowd immediately disperses, having seen what they came to see. Tanya’s take away: the whole thing seemed really phallic. She has a point. We both notice how orderly the crowd is, minus a few hoots and hollers, there is no pushing, shoving, gunfire or any such deviant behavior that we can see. We do happen to see a couple of overachieving revelers hurl just shy of their shoes, but the drunk are the same everywhere, right?

We realize that we don’t have any New Year’s revelry left in our tank and head for home. We choose to hop in a cab driven by a jovial woman named Sue, who also happens to have little patience for traffic jams of any kind. She immediately sets about urging people to hurry up and cross the street so that she can turn. She chides a car filled with partygoers for blocking the intersection, but adds with a smile, “Happy New Year!” All the while, she turns back to complain about how awful the traffic is, but her voice is warm and cheerful and I think she secretly enjoys the back up, showing us a her back way to get us home. We are thankful and we trudge up to our super cute apartment, thrilled that we are among the first in the World to ring in 2014. Not a bad start to the New Year or a trip to New Zealand.