My Friend Fiona, and her Kiwi Bloke, Barry

I first met Fiona when we were 13 years old.  She was a Fairfield girl, I was a Mosgiel girl and somehow, during that first year in the district high school, we became friends.  And we've never stopped being friends in all the years in-between.  'Quite some' years, as some Belgians might say in English.

When Fiona and her Kiwi bloke, Barry,  first heard I was finally coming home after so long away they said, 'We'll find you a car for while you're here!'  And they did. 

Monday night and they invited us up to their place on the hill for a bit of roast lamb and a catch-up.  I should have known it might involve one of Barry's extraordinary inventions.  In this instance, it was a massive oven he'd built ... absolutely massive. 

Did I photograph The Oven Beast in its entirety?  I did not.  I'm currently regretting that but you do get a sense of it, perhaps, when you see how small the leg of lamb appears, in its cooking position, hanging from the Number 8 wire in the door.  The logs were monsters too.

Fiona and Barry have achieved so much in the years I've been gone.  They have built a new home on top of a hill that looks out over the east coast and down the valley into Dunedin city.  A beautiful new home built to resist the fearsome winds that occasionally come calling.

There are 2 horses living with them these days, a few sheep, one dog and two cats.  Fiona always has been a collector of small and helpless creatures.

At times they had Gert and I doubled over with laughter.  Many stories were told while sitting next to that huge roaring oven as the leg of lamb cooked and Gert got to know something of these excellent old friends of mine.  Friends I simply adore.

And the car they found ... well it's red and comes complete with its own set of stories too.  I expect it to feature in more than a few after we leave to explore the South Island next week.  I may have to start a blog page just for The Red Car. Let's see how that goes.

But to Fiona and Barry ... thank you for always being there over the years, and for being the kind of friends who accept all and expect so very little, including that 8 years of absence. 

Here's a taste of the view from their house on the hill.

On Holiday ...

I have trouble stopping.  I mean, I don't really know how to stop and relax.  For me life is about the stories, the journeys, the experiences.

When I go on 'holiday', life becomes a bit of an avalanche of new places, new people, new stories.  And so it has been with this trip to New Zealand.

We have had a most excellent series of adventures, spending time with the best of people and seeing so much beauty while we struggled with adjusting to these New Zealand days lived12 hours ahead of our Belgian lives.

This morning, just as I was thinking I might shake off the lingering jetlag, I said yes to watching my niece at her ice-skating practice.  The one starting at 6am.  I had begged her, as it was something I had missed all these years spent in other places.

I set my alarm last night however instead of waking to it at 5.35am, I woke up at 4.45am.  Too early to get up, to late to go back to sleep in a good way.

So I got up.  I worked for a while in the quiet the morning until it was time to leave for that rather cold ice-skating rink where I had an enjoyable time, photographing my talented ice-skating niece and chatting with my sister and a couple of mums.

Actually, life was a bit of a cascade today.  We took my other most excellent niece to school, then had Gert's camera sensor cleaned before wandering Dunedin's main shopping street.  We met the lovely Mark for lunch out at the Starfish Cafe.  'The Mark' who, in a move that would have delighted Christine and Peter, snuck down and paid the bill while we were finishing our lunch upstairs.  I have the most remarkably kind and generous friends.

This afternoon I slipped away to my bed and was lying there, feeling wickedly lazy, when I remembered ...  but this is a holiday.

8.45pm and here I am, back in bed but blogging.  Trying to stay awake, just a little longer, in an attempt to normalise to New Zealand time once and for all.

Tomorrow's a quieter day ... or that's what we're planning.

Wandering ...

My little sister, Sandra, packed us into her car and took us wandering today ... out along the Otago Peninsula here in Dunedin.

It's a favourite old haunt of mine.  I lived in 4 houses out there between Broad Bay and Portobello.  We drove by some of them. Loved it all over again.

We came back over the high road and she stopped so I could attempt to capture this place again.

Dinner tonight, up at Fiona and Barry's place but that's a other whole long blog.  I'll write it tomorrow because tonight I'm full of good food and exhausted from laughing often with old friends I adore.

My Beach in New Zealand

The photograph below doesn't really capture why I might feel passionate about this particular beach here in New Zealand and it's frustrating because Long beach is so definitely my beach.

My 17-year-old niece, the lovely Georgia, drove us out there yesterday and finally, it felt like I had returned ... completely returned.

Long Beach is located over the back of Dunedin city - turn left just before Port Chalmers, climb up into the hills and drive towards the east coast a while.

The sun was out, as was the tide, and the beach was like all of my favourite beaches here ... almost empty.

Cooper, the happy hound, fulfilled his role and chased the tennis ball endlessly.  And that was me, looking  like the happiest little kid ... just quietly wandering along the waters edge. 

The yellow lupins were in full-bloom and, honestly, they would have to be my favourite flower.  They have this delicate scent that, when mixed with the smell of the sea, is as close to heaven as I can get.

We sat in the sun out there on the beach, simply breathing in the best of New Zealand's air - 2 lovely nieces, my sister and brother-in-law, and the Belgian bloke too - just enjoying being there, back on that beach I love so well.