I presume this will pass but for now, it's all about the fronds here in New Zealand.
Water ... New Zealand-Style
I have been loving the clarity of the water here. Loving the crystal-clear plentitude of it.
I looked down today, while standing in front of Fantail Falls, and realised it was a photograph I needed.
No Rain on New Zealand's Infamously Wet West Coast Today ...
I have traveled the west coast of the South Island a few times and only once have I experienced sunshine. Sunshine that changed everything ... I didn't recognise the chocolate-box-pretty coastline that was revealed by the sun. It was shock and awe on a grand scale.
It happened again today. We set off in the little red car, leaving from Wanaka about 10. We drove west ... climbing hills, turning 35km per hour corners, sometimes constantly negotiating those tight corners, admired so many lakes and rivers. Then finally we reached The Gates of the Haast and wandered on out to the West Coast ... where the actual coast was waiting. Naked in the sun. No clouds. No torrential rain. No sandflies.
Just. Extreme. Beauty. Today there was more than 250kms of it.
Below is a small taste. We forgot to take notes on the 'where' of the photographs ... just to give you a small idea of how mindblown we were. I think this might be Maori Bay, as per our road atlas but anyway ... a beautiful beach, someplace on the West Coast of New Zealand.
And then there was the giant Gollum ...
Gollum was 'fishing', up on the ceiling, at Wellington Airport.
Himself and His Women and the Flowers ...
This morning, we were first up and active here in the big old house in the country ... as is mostly the case but I decided I would try releasing the hens and their rooster.
It's a process. You find all the scraps from the previous day, add some dry bread, find the big stick and then venture forth. You walk the course to their water trough, and drop the bulk of the food there, then wander back to the big door and prepare yourself ... not unlike the prep required for an Olympic 100m dash.
I threw the door open and took off ... sprinkling bread as I ran. Laughing because, for-goodness-sake, they're just little creatures.
I looked behind me, the little brown hen, nicknamed Curious Chicken, was right there on my heels but the others were nicely distracted by all kinds of things. I may have thrown the food container aside as I sprinted. They recognised it.
Gert and Momo, the dog who protects all his humans, stood up near the outdoor dining table ... I believe they were both laughing too.
Mission accomplished, I returned to the table and we sat there a while to watch them ... as you do.
I noticed a little black hen climb into the sweetpeas. She didn't come out. I pointed it out, suggesting we might have solved the mystery of the rest of the missing eggs. We waited until she came out then found the big stick, called Momo ... was distracted an attack of the giggles as he played sillymomodog around my feet ... then set out.
Hot on the heels of Sabine discovering 7 missing eggs at the base of the Livingstone Daisy last night, we struck paydirt again this morning. ELEVEN eggs had been laid at the base of my beloved Sweetpeas.
I must say, the hens have good taste. The Livingstones and the Sweetpeas would have to be two of my favourite flowers.
In the space of 12 hours we have gone from the bizarre situation of hens and no eggs to hens and 18 eggs, just in time for the big happy family returning from France.
Anyway, meet Himself and his Women.
The Waterloo Market, Belgium
Gert and I have twice enjoyed one of the Europe's top 10 markets ... the Waterloo Market, in recent days. We first heard of it via BBC's Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is and loved the idea that we could rummage around, with the possibility of finding both genuine antiques and quirky collectables there. As a New Zealander, from a country young in collectable material history, I loved the age of everything ... and the European flavour too.
The market is held every Sunday, in the carpark of the Carrefour supermarket in Waterloo. There are so many small stalls that it took us 3 hours walking to explore them all today. Last weekend, unprepared for the heat and having left the house without breakfast, we gave up our exploration as heat exhaustion set in.
This Sunday we were ready. A good breakfast, sunhats, a bottle of water, comfortable shoes ... no worries, mate. We were off and wandering with relaxed intent.
And I came home with a few small treasures. I couldn't afford the beautiful 19th century travel writing desk at 40euro, nor could I justify the darling old 1960s opera binocular glasses 10euro, or the exquisitely-shaped whisky hip flask but ... I did buy a pipe-rack for 7 euro. The quote on it will make a pipe-collector of me. And I picked up my first, a clay-pipe, for 3euro.
But it was the little blue leather coin purse pictured below, by Neiman Marcus, that I loved best. The woman gave it to me for 1euro when she saw I only had a 20euro note. I wasn't even haggling because she had only wanted 3euro total.
It works like a pelican's beak perhaps. The silk-lined leather pouch expands as you fill it with coins. I love it.
Parking isn't usually a problem, there are clean toilets in the Carrefour complex, and there is a range of places to eat. The market itself is laid out in an easy to explore grid too - so we backtracked to a couple of retailers, just in case the traveling writing desk became justifiable ...
Highly recommended.
