Wanaka in the mountains

The sun is slowly going down in Wanaka, the trees are losing their leaves and the mountains are shining with the silvery coats of new snow. The Wanaka Festival is on and the locals are out in force to take in whatever is going on. I haven't been here for maybe 20 years so it's a bit like being a foreigner. There seem to be a lot of life-stylers living here, people who are drawn the mountains or the water of just the view. 

Whales by Olive. We had a good chat and she drew me these. Happy whales. Not all whales are happy.

This is from Phoebe who also gave me a concert of Ten Guitars on my ukelele. Above are full instructions on how to do in the comfort of your own home. I reckon Phoebe could have a future in infomercial advertising. 

I would also like to know why I was in Laura's dream. I would also like to know who Laura is so that I can get out of her dream.

This is Isla, who drew me a picture that I put onto my wall, she also brought her sister Beth with her, I think there was a bit of competitiveness. Not least of all in the face painting stakes.

Here's a series of double-shots.

This is Chris, a local architect, he was last living in London but when he started a family decided that this was the place for him and has been here ever since. 

And this is Brigit who I went to drama school with about 350 years ago in Wellington. It's so weird to meet friends who suddenly have children, well not that having children is sudden, just that seeing them multiplied by 3 is a sudden revelation.

Ten Days on the Island and off again

Goodnight Bill. Goodnight Lou. Goodnight May. Goodnight. Ta ta. Goodnight. Goonight.
Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.

The parting call from Evandale, then back in the van to Hobart and off on the big bird away from the island, away from the history, away from the questioning minds of kids, away from million dollar views, away from home but taking home with me.

Sunday market was a busy event, lots of shoppers (no recession going on in Evandale as far as I could see) and lots of folks with goods to sell. I even managed to score a bagain for myself in the morning.

This is Noah and Noah's mother. They were among the first visitors over at my house. Noah is officially the youngest visitor I've had at 7 weeks (excepting the young plastic baby in Ulverstone).

And this of course is Noah's Mother's brother. Yes they do have names but Noah was the only one that stuck in my head. He's going to go far that boy.


And this is Taylor and Tayla - I can remember their names because they reminded me of a 70s tv cop show. They brought with them a fair amount of local knowledge and their own complex web of relationships - they are kind of sisters. It was good to know that family can come from all directions and still get along together.




And speaking of families. This is Rob, she is living and studying in Launceston and had some really great observations. We were talking about the quatre acre and what it represented and she reminded me about how the quarter acre is really a patrichal construct. I think that is absolutely true when you think about it, and perhaps this is why it's not the only way of living anymore. She also reminded me that the quarter acre is a kind of entrapment as much as a freedom, particularly in disfunctional families (and let's face it, disfunctional families are as common as functional ones).
So I appreciated the conversation and new insights.

More Evandale visitors - many were from Sydney strangely enough. That's what you get from a great market.




Matching outfits - I couldn't resist. Perhaps they drive for the same team?

And this is a cheaty view because I'd just got out. The shade of the tree made for a cool afternoon though and finally when I headed south for Hobart the weather packed up properly leaving a fairy dust coating of snow on Mt Wellington.


And then that was it. Thanks Tassie - I'll be back for desert some time soon.

Launcheston lights up for crazy day

Today was awash with Launcestonites, many of them in the mall for Crazy Day sale. Many visitors were of the junior variety, spawning a grand array of cute photos.





You’d think I’d be sick of it by now, but the truth is, there is nothing so fascinating than the face of an inquisitive face staring straight at you. I mean, kids don’t arrive with any agenda, they’re just taking you for what’s going on right now, right here.


I got a good lesson on tea-making from Yen who told me how they make Earl Grey Tea.


And met Claire from the local paper.

Managed to solve the secrets of contemporary art with a bunch of arts students, many of whom had great questioning minds.

These guys kept me on my toes!

D is for Doornobs, departure port, deep sea, disprin and Devonport

So – this is Devonport – Rooke Street Mall to be presice

The town where the boat comes in and the tourists disperse in all directions but people who stay swear by it.
Today went quickly between rain showers and was filled with picturesque visits from folks from all corners of the district.

I learnt a few new words – Freckles – that’s these lolly-covered chocolates (they should be called Pimples) from Theresa in Devonport Discount Meats who brought me the freckles and cheese on toast. I was feeling smug and sated, when suddenly I got an image of those cows sitting in a field going ‘hey this is great, food brought to us every day, everyone is nice to us, what could possibly go wrong here?’… thankfully I reckon the locals here has slightly better intentions. This is Theresa...

And this is freckles

A couple of notable locals dropped by with stories of local elections, education systems and this guy who recently moved into a unit for $80 a fortnight – now that’s what I call a good deal.




Serenity is only a beer away.



And below is someone I met this afternoon and I can't remember her name damnit – she has a model house built by a couple (apparently the couple almost broke up making it, there was so much to disagree about). So, she bought it off them and decided to redecorate it over about 3 months until it was exactly how she wanted it. I wonder if she ever took it back to the original owners (who based it on their own house) to see what they thought. I hope the rest of the city gets a chance to see it too one day.


This afternoon I went down to Latrobe and found a whole street of heritage streets… interesting stuff.

Ulverstone oh Ulverstone

If only John Denver* had not tragically died in his prime, if Ghandi would only have fought back, if Ulverstone had not been overtaken by nearby Devonport... what kind of world would this be?

The morning threatened rain but the sun managed to pierce its way through regardless as did the locals of Ulverstone who came out like budding flowers to Apex park on Main road downtown.

The local Playcentre kids were up for a bit of drawing and provided the most photogenic shots of the day. I confess to adding the yellow to this picture, I'm not sure if it's supposed to be me but whoever it is looks like his middle name should be mister potatoe.





And here's the weirdest school project I've come across in the past few years (and perhaps a very effective form of teenage birth control). These guys are from the local high school and as part of their studies they get the chance to look after a computerised baby. It looks like a baby, it cries, it wets itself and it needs feeding. The person looking after it - I'm sorry I forgot her name - was up three times in the night to look after it because it needs 24 hour care. Isn't that amazing? Am I the only one who finds that incredible? Well I can tell you that latex baby was being well looked after it cos the moment his 'mother' went to the toilet out came the tears and there was an army of worried 'aunts and uncles' to look after it. I reckon if a teenage to stand up to that challenge they're ready for anything.





In fact I had a nice chat to these guys, for some reason the boys were the ones who sat up close while the gals stuck to their seats.


And this is the town crier. I'm not sure what he was crying about but there was no doubt he has a great pair of lungs.

And this is a bearer of gifts and stories. The gift is New Zealand Beans (though I'm pretty sure Heinz is either Australian or American) and the fact that they are Indian Beans is tribute to the Indians who helped found Ulverstone in the 19th and 20th century. Apparently this town was prize property for Indian Colonials who didn't want to go back to England after their time in the new world. Tasmania was the prize and Ulverstone was the icing.


*Actually the song I'm referencing is Galverston oh Galverston which is performed by Glenn Campbell not John Denver, but Glenn didn't write it anyway, it was a guy called Jimmy Webb - but I fear the original connection to the gag of Ulverstone is now completely lost anyway...