Holed up in Sydney
After our train trip from Canberra to Sydney, we were holed up in the Fullerton Hotel in Martin Place, readying ourselves to board our ship, Viking Mars the next morning. We had been wearing face masks everywhere (probably even more than we usually did at home), because we had to have a negative COVID test within 24 hours of boarding in order to join the cruise. Once we'd had the tests, nothing was going to stop us boarding that ship (except possibly World War III or something of similar magnitude). I’d told everyone I’d be posting commentary and photos regularly for those interested – I’d warned them ‘watch this space’.
Viking Mars anchored in White Bay, alongside Balmain, opposite the Sydney main city centre
While we waited to board our ship for light relief (not to mention food) we went to Bambini Trust Restaurant and Wine Room opposite Hyde Park for lunch. It's an old haunt of ours, where many a dry martini has passed our lips. It's amazing how good zucchini flowers stuffed with four kinds of cheese, spaghettini with prawns and, to finish off, affogato can make you feel – especially with a glass of Gamay. Sigh.
‘The last time we looked out from one of these ships we were staring in amazement at the Norwegian coast. Now we were staring in amazement at Australian shores.’
We arrived just in time for Chinese New Year. We were probably missing lots of other terrific exhibitions and events but we were too tired to care – our attitude was bring on tomorrow and the open sea (well the open sea was not till midnight Wednesday, but the idea was about right). Deja vu
Finally, over three and a half years since we last ventured onto the high seas, we were aboard a ship. Our ship for this voyage was exactly the same configuration as the one on which we travelled to Norway in 2019, so I kept having a sense of deja vu. What was different – and very strange – was that the last time we looked out from one of these ships we were staring in amazement at the Norwegian coast. Now we were staring in amazement at Australian shores. Even more disconcerting was that we were staring directly across to the apartment in Balmain I once lived in.
Viking Mars at sea
Ironically on the cruise to Norway in 2019, we’d been struck by the serious measures that Viking had in place to combat the risk of gastro-enteritis, one of the dangers of shipboard life. There were facilities for thorough hand-washing and warnings about the need for good hygiene everywhere on board. When the global COVID-19 pandemic struck the world – and the cruise industry in particular – the following year, Viking more than most was already in a position to respond.
Before long we were well underway, passing the Gippsland Coast, heading towards Melbourne where we were scheduled to arrive first thing the following morning, leaving for our next destination that same night. We could see fragments of tiny islands north of Tasmania on one side.
‘Ironically on the cruise to Norway in 2019, we’d been struck by the serious measures that Viking had in place to combat the risk of gastro-enteritis, one of the dangers of shipboard life. There were facilities for thorough hand-washing and warnings about the need for good hygiene everywhere on board. When the global COVID-19 pandemic struck the world – and the cruise industry in particular – the following year, Viking more than most was already in a position to respond.’
The previous evening we had left White Bay and passed under the Sydney Harbour Bridge and out through the Heads. For some strange reason I had booked dinner at the same time, so we only had glimpses of our departure through the windows of the restaurant as we scoffed Italian food and wine. I made the same mistake in 2019 as we left one of the Northern Norwegian ports, suddenly seeing towering cliffs and vast panoramas passing by outside. Still, the food was good.
The cruise had originally been a river cruise from Amsterdam to Basel in 2020. Then the global pandemic hit and it was postponed several times. Then when Viking started to operate in Australian waters it was converted to a Sydney to Auckland cruise, then postponed again. Almost three and a half years after our first, and until then, only cruise – from London to Norway in 2019 – it was finally happening.
Sailing around your own country
When we originally booked the cruise, I had thought ‘why would I want to sail around the coast of my own country?’, then I thought why wouldn’t I? Sailing down the East Coast of Australia was fascinating – especially by sheer coincidence on Australia Day (at least the most recent date of many dates called Australia Day). I’d only sailed this route once before – as a child travelling from Sydney to Hobart on the Empress of Australia.
Viking Mars head southwards from Sydney
‘We’d met a few Australians – including two Tasmanians – but I realised that the ship was full mostly of Americans. We had to ask for all the Coca Cola to be removed from our stateroom fridge – who likes gin and Coke anyway?. We thought we might find people like the two terrific Americans we met in 2019, who we still kept contact with.’
We’d met a few Australians – including two Tasmanians – but I realised that the ship was full mostly of Americans. We had to ask for all the Coca Cola to be removed from our stateroom fridge – who likes gin and Coke anyway?. We thought we might find people like the two terrific Americans we met in 2019, who we still kept contact with. The few Americans we had talked to already on this cruise seemed to be people who cruise a lot – they were usually very wealthy and that meant they usually turned out to be very conservative. They were personable enough, but at some point in the conversation you would find yourself fending off topics. It’s a bit like falling into conversation with someone from Britain and then suddenly being told how ‘they’ (the descendants of the Poles who died in fighter planes in the sky above London during the battle of Britain) had ‘stolen’ English jobs – the unexpected conversations of travel – but we still held out hope.
Going on an excursion
A major part of cruises are the shore excursions. Viking offers one free excursion in each port and you pay for the others. They aren’t cheap and while they are usually interesting and informative – cultural or educational in nature – they often involve piling onto a coach with loads of other people. For this trip – seasoned cruisers that we now were – we decided to make up our own excursions. You can pay for a lot of taxis with the price of a shore excursion.
Getting the ship underway
The morning we docked in Melbourne we walked off the ship and headed into the city – simple and easy. In an inspired move we had booked the Alexander McQueen exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria, in case we didn’t manage to get back to Melbourne before it finished. We found ourselves in a long queue at the beginning of the wharf, but soon realised this was to process people into buses for their tours. Instead we were directed to the exit for walking onto the pier, which was very straightforward. Our first self-selected and self-directed shore excursion was underway.
The McQueen exhibition was popular and packed and I wore my face mask throughout, but it was excellent and not-to-be-missed. Afterwards we walked through Melbourne on our first visit since early 2019, before the you-know-what began, and had lunch at the City Wine Room/European in Spring Street. We used to visit this every time we came to Melbourne. It was good to be reminded why we have always loved Marvellous Melbourne.
Then we headed back on board in preparation for sailing at 10 pm that night. ‘We’ll be back!’, we said. Next stop was Hobart where my fellow traveller would be celebrating her birthday, in the city in which I was born. Celebrating a birthday – even if it wasn’t your own – in the city you were born in, while en route to New Zealand. It didn’t get much better than that.
The city where I was born
The next morning we arrived in Hobart, the city where I was born. The last time we had been there was in 2019, for my birthday. This time it was my fellow traveller’s turn. Happy birthday! We were docked right next to Macq1 at Constitution Dock, the fabulous hotel we had stayed in when we were last in Hobart. That time there was another Norwegian ship at the same dock. We realised how popular the hotel was when, as we were returning one day, the Governor-General turned up for a stay.
I had been fascinated by Tasmanian chef Analiese Gregory, whose televison series A Girl’s Guide to Hunting, Fishing and Wild Cooking was terrific. She was from New Zealand, with a part-Chinese heritage and had previously worked in Sydney and around the world. She used to be the chef at legendary Hobart restaurant, Franklin, now closed. I realised that we had eaten her food, because we went there in 2019. My fellow traveller bought me a new aftershave called Etui Noir by London perfume house Miller Harris. I was wearing it every day. I was chuffed to discover that it turned out to be Analiese Gregory’s fragrance of choice. She described it as a ‘grandma perfume’.
Tiny reminder of the last land bridge
I woke up at five next morning and could have easily dropped off again but I started thinking and decided to get up. Outside it was starting to get light and from our balcony I could see what I thought must be Wilsons Promontory, the remains of the last land bridge between Tasmania and the Australian mainland. I now think it was some of the tiny islands that were once part of that bridge and now dot Bass Strait as a tiny reminder.
I went downstairs at 6.30 am for a cup of tea and brought back the two caffe lattes that Hong, one of the catering staff in the restaurant below us, made for me every morning. The crew on these ships come from everwhere you can think of. The previous day one of the bar staff had mentioned he was from Georgia, one of the oldest wine-growing regions in the world.
‘The next morning we arrived in Hobart, the city where I was born. The last time we had been there was in 2019, for my birthday. This time it was my fellow traveller’s turn. Happy birthday! We were docked right next to Macq1 at Constitution Dock, the fabulous hotel we had stayed in when we were last in Hobart. That time there was another Norwegian ship at the same dock. We realised how popular the hotel was when, as we were returning one day, the Governor-General turned up for a stay.’
The McQueen exhibition was popular and packed and I wore my face mask throughout, but it was excellent and not-to-be-missed. Afterwards we walked through Melbourne on our first visit since early 2019, before the you-know-what began, and had lunch at the City Wine Room/European in Spring Street. We used to visit this every time we came to Melbourne. It was good to be reminded why we have always loved Marvellous Melbourne.
Then we headed back on board in preparation for sailing at 10 pm that night. ‘We’ll be back!’, we said. Next stop was Hobart where my fellow traveller would be celebrating her birthday, in the city in which I was born. Celebrating a birthday – even if it wasn’t your own – in the city you were born in, while en route to New Zealand. It didn’t get much better than that.
The city where I was born
The next morning we arrived in Hobart, the city where I was born. The last time we had been there was in 2019, for my birthday. This time it was my fellow traveller’s turn. Happy birthday! We were docked right next to Macq1 at Constitution Dock, the fabulous hotel we had stayed in when we were last in Hobart. That time there was another Norwegian ship at the same dock. We realised how popular the hotel was when, as we were returning one day, the Governor-General turned up for a stay.
I had been fascinated by Tasmanian chef Analiese Gregory, whose televison series A Girl’s Guide to Hunting, Fishing and Wild Cooking was terrific. She was from New Zealand, with a part-Chinese heritage and had previously worked in Sydney and around the world. She used to be the chef at legendary Hobart restaurant, Franklin, now closed. I realised that we had eaten her food, because we went there in 2019. My fellow traveller bought me a new aftershave called Etui Noir by London perfume house Miller Harris. I was wearing it every day. I was chuffed to discover that it turned out to be Analiese Gregory’s fragrance of choice. She described it as a ‘grandma perfume’.
Tiny reminder of the last land bridge
I woke up at five next morning and could have easily dropped off again but I started thinking and decided to get up. Outside it was starting to get light and from our balcony I could see what I thought must be Wilsons Promontory, the remains of the last land bridge between Tasmania and the Australian mainland. I now think it was some of the tiny islands that were once part of that bridge and now dot Bass Strait as a tiny reminder.
‘Outside it was starting to get light and from our balcony I could see what I thought must be Wilsons Promontory, the remains of the last land bridge between Tasmania and the Australian mainland. I now think it was some of the tiny islands that were once part of that bridge and now dot Bass Strait as a tiny reminder.’
I went downstairs at 6.30 am for a cup of tea and brought back the two caffe lattes that Hong, one of the catering staff in the restaurant below us, made for me every morning. The crew on these ships come from everwhere you can think of. The previous day one of the bar staff had mentioned he was from Georgia, one of the oldest wine-growing regions in the world.
Early morning arrival in Hobart, the city where I was born
That day we were scheduled to travel down the East Coast of Tasmania, just as I had done all those years ago on the Empress of Australia. Ironically I’m sure that on that trip we had departed from White Bay as well. That time, so long ago, after too many lime milkshakes and sleeping in an upper bunk, I ended up throwing up big time. In fact the whole family except my father became sea sick. He had paid for all the meals for the entire trip for all of us, but in the end, he went down to eat by himself, while we all had apples and dried biscuits in our cabins – good times.
At that stage of the global pandemic Viking clearly recommended that passengers wore face masks on board and also when they went ashore (recognising that Australia at the time had high levels of COVID, having gone from hero to zero in as long as it takes a neo-liberal politician to say ‘personal responsibility’). Despite that recommendation, only a hardy few actually wore them – me included, of course. Generally though, unless you were in the scrum at the meal buffet or queueing for an excursion, the small ship was so roomy that you could easily avoid crowds. For me the highlight was the fact that Viking ships are like a combination of floating libraries and Nordic spas – what not to like? On top of that, there was the general bonus everyone says cruises offer – you only unpack once.
I had been teaching my fellow traveller to play chess. When I was at school in Tasmania a friend and I became obsessed – we used to play dozens of games a day until I could read the board like a book. I didn’t play much now, so it was good to rediscover an old (but rusty) skill. I had been asked to post photos of our cabin, so since it was a day at sea, that was the post for that day in transit.
A grim concentration camp regime
On our way from Melbourne to Hobart two days before, we had sailed between Clarke Island (with Cape Barren Island – Truwana – behind it) and the North East corner of Tasmania. We passed Falmouth, where we stayed at our friends’ place in 2019, and then the Bay of Fires, where we walked in late 2008. Cape Barren Island is part of the dark history of Tasmania because Aboriginal survivors from the Black Wars were forcibly relocated there in the 1830s – Australia’s own gulag. Expelled from their country, most died there. On top of our experience of visiting the site of the former Cascades Womens Factory in Hobart in 2019, you quickly realised the British ran a pretty grim concentration camp regime.
In Hobart the previous day we wandered to Salamanca Place and the Salamanca Arts Centre, where I bought my fellow traveller a pair of earrrings made by Tasmanian jeweller Lauren Harris (who lives on Bruny Island). They featured topaz mined on Flinders Island. Then we meandered up the steps through Battery Point, found the bakery we remembered that has been operating there for the last 25 years and drank coffee and ate pastries filled with cream cheese and sultanas. I thought how I could live in Battery Point – except I couldn’t, because it was so eye-wateringly expensive.
That evening, as the ship turned on its axis, then headed out to sea past Port Arthur, we ate dinner in the Chef’s Table – a five course menu themed around spices as La Route des Indes. The ship cooks had made a cake for the birthday girl and we drank Champagne and watched the sea roll by.
At that stage of the global pandemic Viking clearly recommended that passengers wore face masks on board and also when they went ashore (recognising that Australia at the time had high levels of COVID, having gone from hero to zero in as long as it takes a neo-liberal politician to say ‘personal responsibility’). Despite that recommendation, only a hardy few actually wore them – me included, of course. Generally though, unless you were in the scrum at the meal buffet or queueing for an excursion, the small ship was so roomy that you could easily avoid crowds. For me the highlight was the fact that Viking ships are like a combination of floating libraries and Nordic spas – what not to like? On top of that, there was the general bonus everyone says cruises offer – you only unpack once.
‘At that stage of the global pandemic Viking clearly recommended that passengers wore face masks on board and also when they went ashore (recognising that Australia at the time had high levels of COVID, having gone from hero to zero in as long as it takes a neo-liberal politician to say ‘personal responsibility’). Despite that recommendation, only a hardy few actually wore them – me included, of course.’
I had been teaching my fellow traveller to play chess. When I was at school in Tasmania a friend and I became obsessed – we used to play dozens of games a day until I could read the board like a book. I didn’t play much now, so it was good to rediscover an old (but rusty) skill. I had been asked to post photos of our cabin, so since it was a day at sea, that was the post for that day in transit.
A grim concentration camp regime
On our way from Melbourne to Hobart two days before, we had sailed between Clarke Island (with Cape Barren Island – Truwana – behind it) and the North East corner of Tasmania. We passed Falmouth, where we stayed at our friends’ place in 2019, and then the Bay of Fires, where we walked in late 2008. Cape Barren Island is part of the dark history of Tasmania because Aboriginal survivors from the Black Wars were forcibly relocated there in the 1830s – Australia’s own gulag. Expelled from their country, most died there. On top of our experience of visiting the site of the former Cascades Womens Factory in Hobart in 2019, you quickly realised the British ran a pretty grim concentration camp regime.
‘Cape Barren Island is part of the dark history of Tasmania because Aboriginal survivors from the Black Wars were forcibly relocated there in the 1830s – Australia’s own gulag. Expelled from their country, most died there.’
In Hobart the previous day we wandered to Salamanca Place and the Salamanca Arts Centre, where I bought my fellow traveller a pair of earrrings made by Tasmanian jeweller Lauren Harris (who lives on Bruny Island). They featured topaz mined on Flinders Island. Then we meandered up the steps through Battery Point, found the bakery we remembered that has been operating there for the last 25 years and drank coffee and ate pastries filled with cream cheese and sultanas. I thought how I could live in Battery Point – except I couldn’t, because it was so eye-wateringly expensive.
That evening, as the ship turned on its axis, then headed out to sea past Port Arthur, we ate dinner in the Chef’s Table – a five course menu themed around spices as La Route des Indes. The ship cooks had made a cake for the birthday girl and we drank Champagne and watched the sea roll by.
Viking Mars docked in Hobart
Heading acros the Tasman Sea
For the first time on this trip we were out at sea, rather than cruising along a coast. We had a couple of days in front of us, as we headed across the Tasman Sea, through Furneaux Strait and then up the East Coast of the South Island to Christchurch. While it had been fun while we were in Australian waters, it wasn’t a serious cruise because, after all, it was where we lived.Now we were into the overseas leg and had left Australia for the first time in over three and a half years. We were already an hour ahead of Australia and tomorrow we would be two hours ahead. I thought, ‘was this change in time zones trying to tell me something?’ Before long we were more than three quarters of the way across the Tasman Sea to the southern most part of New Zealand, near Invercargill. The ship was surrounded by fog.
The staff were mainly young and very talented. They put on musical shows at night. That sounded like a lot after a day of work. I wondered if they were paid extra for it, or if it’s the same old story that gets repeated across the arts world. One day there was an impromptu performance in the main atrium at drinks for repeat Viking travellers. I discovered that there were 880 passengers on this 930 passenger ship. There were 108 Australians amongst them. Over 700 of the passengers were repeat Viking travellers.
I was surprised that there were so many Australians, since most of those on board seem to be Americans. At the same time I was surprised that a cruise from Australia to New Zealand had so small a proportion of Australians. I gather that Viking offered American travellers special incentives to fly out to join the cruise, part of their focus on the huge American market.
The food on the ship was very enjoyable and extremely varied. There were several restaurants, Italian and Asian – we had booked each several times during the course of the two week trip. There was also another restaurant, which you couldn’t book, but could get into easily by turning up. Then there were several buffet-style areas which were more casual. We mainly ate breakfast, lunch and dinner in the largest, The World Café – when we were not having breakfast in our room. Our cabin was in the same area on the top most level that I booked in 2019, because it had only a short stretch of suites. We could walk a few steps into a small lounge at the very front of the ship, where we played chess, and then down into the main evening lounge, where we also sometimes ate – especially if we felt like Norwegian waffles.
Daily refills of gin
With meals you could get free wine and beer which was quite good and ranged across several types and origins, though usually under labels we’d never heard of, like when you buy wine at Aldi supermarkets. At other times you could pay for any drinks you wanted – very reasonably priced. For the seriously alcoholic or those with expensive tastes you could buy a ‘Silver Spirits drinks package’, which for a relatively cheap $350 Australian let you drink top shelf wines and spirits throughout the trip.
The staff were mainly young and very talented. They put on musical shows at night. That sounded like a lot after a day of work. I wondered if they were paid extra for it, or if it’s the same old story that gets repeated across the arts world. One day there was an impromptu performance in the main atrium at drinks for repeat Viking travellers. I discovered that there were 880 passengers on this 930 passenger ship. There were 108 Australians amongst them. Over 700 of the passengers were repeat Viking travellers.
I was surprised that there were so many Australians, since most of those on board seem to be Americans. At the same time I was surprised that a cruise from Australia to New Zealand had so small a proportion of Australians. I gather that Viking offered American travellers special incentives to fly out to join the cruise, part of their focus on the huge American market.
‘The food on the ship was very enjoyable and extremely varied. There were several restaurants, Italian and Asian – we had booked each several times during the course of the two week trip. There was also another restaurant, which you couldn’t book, but could get into easily by turning up. Then there were several buffet-style areas which were more casual.’
The food on the ship was very enjoyable and extremely varied. There were several restaurants, Italian and Asian – we had booked each several times during the course of the two week trip. There was also another restaurant, which you couldn’t book, but could get into easily by turning up. Then there were several buffet-style areas which were more casual. We mainly ate breakfast, lunch and dinner in the largest, The World Café – when we were not having breakfast in our room. Our cabin was in the same area on the top most level that I booked in 2019, because it had only a short stretch of suites. We could walk a few steps into a small lounge at the very front of the ship, where we played chess, and then down into the main evening lounge, where we also sometimes ate – especially if we felt like Norwegian waffles.
Daily refills of gin
With meals you could get free wine and beer which was quite good and ranged across several types and origins, though usually under labels we’d never heard of, like when you buy wine at Aldi supermarkets. At other times you could pay for any drinks you wanted – very reasonably priced. For the seriously alcoholic or those with expensive tastes you could buy a ‘Silver Spirits drinks package’, which for a relatively cheap $350 Australian let you drink top shelf wines and spirits throughout the trip.
That probably explains the number of people I saw ploughing into the booze before lunch – presumably getting their money’s worth. On our previous trip to Norway in 2019, we realised that we could live without the upgraded drinks package and we’d stuck to that – while the wine is agreeable, we weren’t there for the drinks. Because we hadn’t travelled for several years, we had splashed out on our cabin, so we got daily refills of gin in our room. While it’s nice to have the choice, who wants to stay in their room drinking gin for the whole trip?
After a day of fog and moderate swells, we emerged to find the coast of New Zealand towering before us as we passed between the South Island and Stewart Island further South and Antarctica beyond that. We were finally overseas, close to the bottom of the world.
Viking prides itself on its cultural and educational focus and designs its shore excursions to reflect this. Yet I was amazed that the stops in Sydney, Melbourne, Hobart and Wellington had no excursions to the Powerhouse Museum, the Melbourne Museum, the Museum of Old and New Art or Te Papa, the national museum of New Zealand, all world class institutions full of fascinating collections. At most, the generic Viking ‘Sights of’ tours mention the institutions in passing.
‘The library was everywhere and it was more amazing than it sounds. There were shelves of books dispersed all around the ship, with quiet corners where you could read in peace, mostly away from the intermittent live television broadcasts of American sports, which I didn’t remember from the previous trip – which luckily you could avoid. The library collection was ‘curated’ (to use the latest on trend word) by a London-based bookstore and many of the volumes, while representing the idiosyncratic choices of the bookstore, were surprising and exceptional.’
After a day of fog and moderate swells, we emerged to find the coast of New Zealand towering before us as we passed between the South Island and Stewart Island further South and Antarctica beyond that. We were finally overseas, close to the bottom of the world.
Viking prides itself on its cultural and educational focus and designs its shore excursions to reflect this. Yet I was amazed that the stops in Sydney, Melbourne, Hobart and Wellington had no excursions to the Powerhouse Museum, the Melbourne Museum, the Museum of Old and New Art or Te Papa, the national museum of New Zealand, all world class institutions full of fascinating collections. At most, the generic Viking ‘Sights of’ tours mention the institutions in passing.
The library was everywhere and it was more amazing than it sounds. There were shelves of books dispersed all around the ship, with quiet corners where you could read in peace, mostly away from the intermittent live television broadcasts of American sports, which I didn’t remember from the previous trip – which luckily you could avoid. The library collection was ‘curated’ (to use the latest on trend word) by a London-based bookstore and many of the volumes, while representing the idiosyncratic choices of the bookstore, were surprising and exceptional.
Out of touch on a floating library
Because I’d been on a floating library, I was a little out of touch with what had been happening in the world of Australian creativity and culture. A couple of days previously I had seen that the Australian Government had finally released its new National Cultural Policy. I’d had a quick glance at it but resolved to read it more closely and comment further. It was of extra interest to me since I was the Director of the Taskforce that co-ordinated the production of the last cultural policy under the previous Labor Government back in 2012.
One night at dinner we were sitting along from Tom Ward, a young Tasmanian guitarist who was performing on the cruise. He had played all around the world, including with other performers such as Tommy Emmanuel, and was Tasmanian Composer of the Year. He told us how musicians had been affected by the COVID-19 pandemic and what he’d done to survive and how bad Spotify was for musos. He mentioned that he knew many musicians who had released dozens of recordings but had given up performing and recording completely due to the pandemic and the patchy support the creative sector had received during it. It was unexpected moments like this that made the cruise.
Out of touch on a floating library
Because I’d been on a floating library, I was a little out of touch with what had been happening in the world of Australian creativity and culture. A couple of days previously I had seen that the Australian Government had finally released its new National Cultural Policy. I’d had a quick glance at it but resolved to read it more closely and comment further. It was of extra interest to me since I was the Director of the Taskforce that co-ordinated the production of the last cultural policy under the previous Labor Government back in 2012.
One night at dinner we were sitting along from Tom Ward, a young Tasmanian guitarist who was performing on the cruise. He had played all around the world, including with other performers such as Tommy Emmanuel, and was Tasmanian Composer of the Year. He told us how musicians had been affected by the COVID-19 pandemic and what he’d done to survive and how bad Spotify was for musos. He mentioned that he knew many musicians who had released dozens of recordings but had given up performing and recording completely due to the pandemic and the patchy support the creative sector had received during it. It was unexpected moments like this that made the cruise.
Afloat on a travelling library
Just over a week after leaving Sydney we arrived in Lyttleton, the harbour for Christchurch. As we arrived the larger Princess line cruise ship that had been ahead of us in White Bay, Sydney, was departing. The next morning a P&O cruise ship was being escorted in. It’s a serious working harbour and apart from the cruise ships, there was constant movement of containers onto the container ship docked in front of us. I’m fascinated by industrial heritage, so I was having a great time.
At our first landfall in New Zealand, we were booked on our first Viking shore excursion of the trip. We’d be hopping on a bus for a 25 minute trip into Christchurch and then a three hour tour around the city. We were going to see how it went. If it was too much like a cattle yard, we’d jump off somewhere.
On cruises there seem to be unexpected itinerary changes from time to time. Originally we were going to dock in both Dunedin and Christchurch, but then Dunedin fell through and it changed to two nights in Christchurch’s harbour, Lyttleton, where we had finally arrived. Luckily we were going back to Dunedin after we got off the ship, because I had always wanted to go there. The biggest change – and the most unexpected – was when it was announced on the night we left Sydney that we were unable to dock in Wellington. We were going back to Wellington later, but if I was on a two week cruise to New Zealand and suddenly discovered that we weren’t visiting cool little capital Wellington, I would be very disappointed.
‘Because I’d been on a floating library, I was a little out of touch with what had been happening in the world of Australian creativity and culture. A couple of days previously I had seen that the Australian Government had finally released its new National Cultural Policy. I’d had a quick glance at it but resolved to read it more closely and comment further. It was of extra interest to me since I was the Director of the Taskforce that co-ordinated the production of the last cultural policy under the previous Labor Government back in 2012.’
At our first landfall in New Zealand, we were booked on our first Viking shore excursion of the trip. We’d be hopping on a bus for a 25 minute trip into Christchurch and then a three hour tour around the city. We were going to see how it went. If it was too much like a cattle yard, we’d jump off somewhere.
On cruises there seem to be unexpected itinerary changes from time to time. Originally we were going to dock in both Dunedin and Christchurch, but then Dunedin fell through and it changed to two nights in Christchurch’s harbour, Lyttleton, where we had finally arrived. Luckily we were going back to Dunedin after we got off the ship, because I had always wanted to go there. The biggest change – and the most unexpected – was when it was announced on the night we left Sydney that we were unable to dock in Wellington. We were going back to Wellington later, but if I was on a two week cruise to New Zealand and suddenly discovered that we weren’t visiting cool little capital Wellington, I would be very disappointed.
Lyttleton Harbour, outside Christchurch, where I saw my first straddler lifting and shifting containers
That night we popped down to a ‘Dancing under the stars’ evening with the Viking band on the main pool deck. We were ready to boogie, but couldn’t quite get into the swing of things – perhaps another night might be the one. It was fun, though.
Rocking along in rough seas
We were rocking along in rough seas on the way to landfall in Napier the next day, having bypassed Wellington. Ironically Napier was devastated by an earthquake in 1931 and as a result was rebuilt in the new Art Deco style that was all the rage at the time. The night before I thought I could hear the waves, but it was my fellow traveller moving the sheets. I had discovered why we missed Dunedin and Wellington – we had been bumped by much larger cruise ships following the same route. I assumed they were more lucrative for the ports concerned.
While we were docked in Lyttleton we caught the excursion bus into Christchurch, our first landfall on this trip. We would be back there three times during the rest of our trip after we got off the ship, because we were using the city as a central base. There were parts of the city that looked extremely interesting, especially near where we would be staying, but I was shocked at how much damage was still to be repaired after the 2010/2011 earthquakes. It was a city full of outdoor car parks, where buildings had been levelled and rebuilding was yet to commence. We were told it’s was also due to planned downsizing – almost unheard of for a city. If you owned a building that was higher than five stories before the earthquake, you could rebuild to the original height. Otherwise five stories was the new limit.
Before we knew it we’d arrived in Napier, with its superb Art Deco centre, and then left again on our steady way north. If we’d arrived a fortnight later we would have been in the middle of the week-long Art Deco Festival.
One of our biggest revelations about travel
Napier was where we had one of our biggest revelations about travel – something that has shaped all our travel plans ever since. In 2016 on our first proper visit to New Zealand, we were trying to cover quite a bit of ground. We stayed in Napier for two nights and realised that the first night in a town you have just arrived and the second night you are just about to leave – which means you effectively have only one day in a place. Ever since we have rarely stayed less than three nights wherever we’ve gone.'
Rocking along in rough seas
We were rocking along in rough seas on the way to landfall in Napier the next day, having bypassed Wellington. Ironically Napier was devastated by an earthquake in 1931 and as a result was rebuilt in the new Art Deco style that was all the rage at the time. The night before I thought I could hear the waves, but it was my fellow traveller moving the sheets. I had discovered why we missed Dunedin and Wellington – we had been bumped by much larger cruise ships following the same route. I assumed they were more lucrative for the ports concerned.
While we were docked in Lyttleton we caught the excursion bus into Christchurch, our first landfall on this trip. We would be back there three times during the rest of our trip after we got off the ship, because we were using the city as a central base. There were parts of the city that looked extremely interesting, especially near where we would be staying, but I was shocked at how much damage was still to be repaired after the 2010/2011 earthquakes. It was a city full of outdoor car parks, where buildings had been levelled and rebuilding was yet to commence. We were told it’s was also due to planned downsizing – almost unheard of for a city. If you owned a building that was higher than five stories before the earthquake, you could rebuild to the original height. Otherwise five stories was the new limit.
Before we knew it we’d arrived in Napier, with its superb Art Deco centre, and then left again on our steady way north. If we’d arrived a fortnight later we would have been in the middle of the week-long Art Deco Festival.
One of our biggest revelations about travel
Napier was where we had one of our biggest revelations about travel – something that has shaped all our travel plans ever since. In 2016 on our first proper visit to New Zealand, we were trying to cover quite a bit of ground. We stayed in Napier for two nights and realised that the first night in a town you have just arrived and the second night you are just about to leave – which means you effectively have only one day in a place. Ever since we have rarely stayed less than three nights wherever we’ve gone.'
I’d noticed that many smaller ports were not set up for cruise ships, so passengers who didn’t want to join the buses on the structured shores excursions couldn’t simply walk off the ship into town. They had to jump on shuttle buses to get them out of the locked down industrial ports. This meant hopping on a bus at 7.30 am before the excursions started and then queueing in the hot sun and humidity to get on a return bus with all the other returning excursion passengers.
We discovered at the port talk that preceded arrival in each destination that one of the most significant Māori archaelogical sites in New Zealand was only 17 minutes by bus from Napier. The Ōtātara Pā was a massive fortified village site covering 58 hectares. Yet it was nowhere to be seen on the Viking list of excursions. We had planned to abandon the official list of excursions and take a taxi there, but we had to be back on board by 1 pm, so it was too tight.
We discovered at the port talk that preceded arrival in each destination that one of the most significant Māori archaelogical sites in New Zealand was only 17 minutes by bus from Napier. The Ōtātara Pā was a massive fortified village site covering 58 hectares. Yet it was nowhere to be seen on the Viking list of excursions. We had planned to abandon the official list of excursions and take a taxi there, but we had to be back on board by 1 pm, so it was too tight.
‘Of all the New Zealand working harbours we had visited on the trip, Tauranga was the workingest – it was very large, with ships of all sizes coming and going, and unlike some of the smaller ports, big enough to accommodate passengers walking off the ship into Mount Maganui. I popped ashore but it was very busy because in harbour there was also a much larger P&O cruise ship that has been shadowing our progress up the coast. On top of that, Monday was a public holiday because it was Waitangi Day in honour of New Zealand’s founding document, the Treat of Waitangi, between Māori and the British.’
Instead we went to a local Saturday market and enjoyed revisiting some of the places we had hung around last time – that was fun. As it turned out, a friend following in our footsteps subsequently visited the site and commented that it turned out to be a fairly bare and uninteresting location, so we weren’t too disappointed. We were less resigned about missing excursion opportunities in other places.
Tauranga - the workingest working port of all
Turning a shore excursion into an onboard incursion.
Of all the New Zealand working harbours we had visited on the trip, Tauranga was the workingest – it was very large, with ships of all sizes coming and going, and unlike some of the smaller ports, big enough to accommodate passengers walking off the ship into Mount Maganui. I popped ashore but it was very busy because in harbour there was also a much larger P&O cruise ship that has been shadowing our progress up the coast. On top of that, Monday was a public holiday because it was Waitangi Day in honour of New Zealand’s founding document, the Treat of Waitangi, between Māori and the British. As a result everyone and their dog was out in Tauranga. It was the perfect opportunity to turn a shore excursion into an onboard incursion. I spent the day in the sauna, pool and spa and the libraries – bliss. This was Vikingdom at its best.
At last we arrived in beautiful Auckland. It wasn’t raining when we arrived, but clearly it has been. I had hoped we would be able to walk ashore from the ship and as soon as we started to dock I knew exactly where we were – right in the heart of Britomart. It’s where we would be staying once we disembarked. In 2016 we walked down to this location and photographed a large cruise ship that was docked right where we were tied up.
Street art in Auckland.
‘I love port cities like this – Auckland, Vancouver, Sydney, Seattle. I never made it to San Francisco, but I’m sure that would be on the list. When we were in Auckland in 2016 there was much excitement because a large seal was swimming next to the wharf in the heart of the city.’
We had been booked on a two hour bus tour of the city but we decided to ditch it in favour of a walk around Britomart and Viaduct Harbour. I’d also become a bit tired of hearing people coughing their guts up, yet not making any effort to wear masks in crowded places, and a packed bus was not a good way to end our trip.
Ships, including Viking Mars, docked in Auckland Harbour
We’d had two weeks of cruising in Australian and New Zealand waters. Now we were moving onto stage 2 – four more weeks in New Zealand.
Fun and funky
Auckland was fun and funky. It was a short visit, crammed between the arrival of our cruise ship and the departure of the train to Wellington – which only runs three times a week. On our first day we disembarked from Viking Mars and walked our bags through Britomart to the very impressive Hotel Britomart. I kept thinking I was still on the ship. I could hear the odd thumping noise and the sound of the engines, but it was only the air-conditioning. I was definitely walking as though I was still at sea, feeling slightly unsteady on my feet.
Auckland was fun and funky. It was a short visit, crammed between the arrival of our cruise ship and the departure of the train to Wellington – which only runs three times a week. On our first day we disembarked from Viking Mars and walked our bags through Britomart to the very impressive Hotel Britomart. I kept thinking I was still on the ship. I could hear the odd thumping noise and the sound of the engines, but it was only the air-conditioning. I was definitely walking as though I was still at sea, feeling slightly unsteady on my feet.
Our funky hotel in Britomart in Auckland Harbour
That night we had a couple of drinks along the waterfront and then went to Cafe Hanoi, which has survived and thrived since we went there in 2016. It has been incorporated into the redevelopment of the area which produced the funky Hotel Britomart we stayed in. The food and wine was sensational, apparently despite not having changed since we were there last, and it made me reflect that if we hadn’t lost the Vietnam war, we wouldn’t have the Vietnamese – and their cuisine. The wine list was stunning, a mix of really diverse New Zealand wines and French wines – highly appropriate in a Vietnamese restaurant. I remember when the Vietnamese first started arriving in Adelaide. We tried the food but it never made much of an impression on me at the time. It’s curious but it was only when we visited New Zealand at the end of 2016 and ate in Apache in Wellington and Café Hanoi in Auckland that we finally discovered Vietnamese food.
On our last night in Auckland, from our table in fabulous Alma restaurant, we saw Viking Mars head out to sea on it’s way back to Tauranga, heading in reverse back along the route we had followed.
‘The food and wine was sensational, apparently despite not having changed since we were there last, and it made me reflect that if we hadn’t lost the Vietnam war, we wouldn’t have the Vietnamese – and their cuisine.’
On our last night in Auckland, from our table in fabulous Alma restaurant, we saw Viking Mars head out to sea on it’s way back to Tauranga, heading in reverse back along the route we had followed.
Auckland Harbour from our ship
After a ten hour 40 minute train trip from Auckland – which turned into an eleven and a quarter hour trip – we arrived in cool little capital Wellington. On the train, we seemed to be surrounded by people coughing their guts up, whether because they had COVID or had recovered from COVID or simply had a cold. We wore our masks (I double-masked, as though I was on an international flight), so we thought that hopefully we’d be okay. There was the same level of denial of COVID in New Zealand as in Australia – neither the population nor the politicians seemed to want to mention it, hoping it would go away
Back to an old favourite
On our first night in Wellington, we went back to old favourite Loretta in funky Cuba Street and we were there for lunch again the following day. I was sure there were new places, but on a short visit on the way to somewhere else, it was good to find some things hadn’t changed.
We had been catching up with my nephew and his wife and their two energetic young boys. They’ve made a good home in Wellington, both with jobs in the important industries of the future. My nephew works for Weta Digital and had just finished as lead on the digital effects work for the latest Avatar film.
Back to an old favourite
On our first night in Wellington, we went back to old favourite Loretta in funky Cuba Street and we were there for lunch again the following day. I was sure there were new places, but on a short visit on the way to somewhere else, it was good to find some things hadn’t changed.
We had been catching up with my nephew and his wife and their two energetic young boys. They’ve made a good home in Wellington, both with jobs in the important industries of the future. My nephew works for Weta Digital and had just finished as lead on the digital effects work for the latest Avatar film.
National Museum of New Zealand, Wellington
This trip seemed to be all about trains and ships. We caught the ferry to Matiu Somes island in Wellington Harbour and spent two hours walking its tracks and looking at the city from the sea. It was the closest we were going to get to approaching Wellington from the harbour, since our Viking ship didn’t make it into Wellington. Ironically as we were heading to the island, I saw that Viking Mars was docked alongside one of the wharves – clearly on the return trip they’d made it to the capital.
At times I had to stop and remind myself that we were really in New Zealand and that we had actually left Australia for the first time in three and a half years. I am fascinated by New Zealand English. In 2016, we encountered ‘trundler’ for a shopping trolly – how apt. On this this trip I had found ‘straddler’, the impossibly tall moveable forklifts that carried containers on the Lyttleton wharves.
‘At times I had to stop and remind myself that we were really in New Zealand and that we had actually left Australia for the first time in three and a half years.’
At times I had to stop and remind myself that we were really in New Zealand and that we had actually left Australia for the first time in three and a half years. I am fascinated by New Zealand English. In 2016, we encountered ‘trundler’ for a shopping trolly – how apt. On this this trip I had found ‘straddler’, the impossibly tall moveable forklifts that carried containers on the Lyttleton wharves.
Apart from a slick strip of generica along and around Lambton Quay, Wellington was grungy, I could possibly describe it as grubby, like Newtown when I first moved to Sydney in 1988. It reminded me of Seattle when I visited it in early 2005. It was really interesting, and small enterprises flourished in the industrial remnants, presumably with cheap rents. In Australia often new cafes were decorated in a retro industrial style, here it was just the way it was.
Maintenance is a big ask
However, maintenance of an ageing city is a big enough ask, and Wellington was long overdue for a load of it – add recovery from earthquakes and it becomes massive. Work was still underway on the damage to public buildings – such as the library – in the centre of the city that occurred just before we touched down at the end of 2016. Wellington must also be the vaping capital of the world. There were vaping shops all over the place and lots of people using their products. Maybe they thought it was a safer alternative.
Before we knew it, it was our last day in cool little capital Wellington. The weather had been totally out of character, calm and warm and clear. The next day we were to catch the ferry to the South Island, a three and a half hour trip. Severe storms were predicted for the top of the North Island, so we were hopeful that wouldn’t affect the ferry. The previous morning I had woken with the distinct feeling the bed was moving slightly. I checked but there didn't seem to have been a tremor at that time – perhaps I was still feeling the effects of being on the cruise ship!
The next morning we were preparing to catch the ferry, a trip through seas which were slowly becoming rougher as one of the most severe cyclones New Zealand had ever seen approached Auckland from the North. I had been assured the day before that the ferry company was expecting swells of only one to one and a half meters – the trip would be cancelled only when seas reached four meters.
Maintenance is a big ask
However, maintenance of an ageing city is a big enough ask, and Wellington was long overdue for a load of it – add recovery from earthquakes and it becomes massive. Work was still underway on the damage to public buildings – such as the library – in the centre of the city that occurred just before we touched down at the end of 2016. Wellington must also be the vaping capital of the world. There were vaping shops all over the place and lots of people using their products. Maybe they thought it was a safer alternative.
Before we knew it, it was our last day in cool little capital Wellington. The weather had been totally out of character, calm and warm and clear. The next day we were to catch the ferry to the South Island, a three and a half hour trip. Severe storms were predicted for the top of the North Island, so we were hopeful that wouldn’t affect the ferry. The previous morning I had woken with the distinct feeling the bed was moving slightly. I checked but there didn't seem to have been a tremor at that time – perhaps I was still feeling the effects of being on the cruise ship!
‘Before we knew it, it was our last day in cool little capital Wellington. The weather had been totally out of character, calm and warm and clear. The next day we were to catch the ferry to the South Island, a three and a half hour trip. Severe storms were predicted for the top of the North Island, so we were hopeful that wouldn’t affect the ferry.’
The next morning we were preparing to catch the ferry, a trip through seas which were slowly becoming rougher as one of the most severe cyclones New Zealand had ever seen approached Auckland from the North. I had been assured the day before that the ferry company was expecting swells of only one to one and a half meters – the trip would be cancelled only when seas reached four meters.
Entering the Cook Strait between the North and the South Islands as the largest cyclone New Zealand had encounterd bore down on us
We woke up in Picton, on the North tip of the South Island. To date our whole trip – cruise, stays in Auckland and Wellington and train from one city to the other had been a lead up to the main event – our visit (finally) to the South Island. We had stopped briefly in Lyttleton Harbour (and popped into Christchurch) on our cruise, but that was no more than a brief encounter. We now have almost three weeks left of our visit.
Impossibly beautiful
Picton was impossibly beautiful that morning, even if wet and slightly windy from the effects of the cyclone further North. The night we arrived it rained and raged once we had settled into our waterside apartment after we disembarked and walked our bags there. It was so windy that my hat blew off and disappeared into the bushes and I had to clamber over a fence to chase it down.
It was a miracle we made it at all. Firstly our early morning ferry, which would have arrived in Picton just after midday, was cancelled and we were transferred to a different ferry leaving in the afternoon. That ferry left late, as the wind picked up and seas started to rise. Luckily the swell wasn’t too bad – less than we encountered on the cruise as we headed through the same area coming from the South on our cruise ship. At that point we heard that our ferry was the last one, as all ferries had been cancelled for 24 hours and the port of Picton was closed, due to Cyclone Gabrielle.
Then, unexpectedly, the ferry broke down in the Cook Strait, just before we were due to enter the protected inlets leading to Picton. It had a power surge and all the lights went out. We sat wallowing in the waves as they checked how severe the damage was. Eventually we got underway, but took a safer and longer route to Picton. As a result we didn’t get off the boat until about 9 pm, over an hour later than we expected. Everything in Picton was either closed or closing – note to self, never arrive anywhere in the world on a Monday night. We cut our losses and went to bed. Luckily we’d had a few snacks and drinks on the ship – what else do you do for five and a half hours, except pop out onto the deck to take in the view and snap photos?
Impossibly beautiful
Picton was impossibly beautiful that morning, even if wet and slightly windy from the effects of the cyclone further North. The night we arrived it rained and raged once we had settled into our waterside apartment after we disembarked and walked our bags there. It was so windy that my hat blew off and disappeared into the bushes and I had to clamber over a fence to chase it down.
It was a miracle we made it at all. Firstly our early morning ferry, which would have arrived in Picton just after midday, was cancelled and we were transferred to a different ferry leaving in the afternoon. That ferry left late, as the wind picked up and seas started to rise. Luckily the swell wasn’t too bad – less than we encountered on the cruise as we headed through the same area coming from the South on our cruise ship. At that point we heard that our ferry was the last one, as all ferries had been cancelled for 24 hours and the port of Picton was closed, due to Cyclone Gabrielle.
‘Then, unexpectedly, the ferry broke down in the Cook Strait, just before we were due to enter the protected inlets leading to Picton. It had a power surge and all the lights went out. We sat wallowing in the waves as they checked how severe the damage was.’
Then, unexpectedly, the ferry broke down in the Cook Strait, just before we were due to enter the protected inlets leading to Picton. It had a power surge and all the lights went out. We sat wallowing in the waves as they checked how severe the damage was. Eventually we got underway, but took a safer and longer route to Picton. As a result we didn’t get off the boat until about 9 pm, over an hour later than we expected. Everything in Picton was either closed or closing – note to self, never arrive anywhere in the world on a Monday night. We cut our losses and went to bed. Luckily we’d had a few snacks and drinks on the ship – what else do you do for five and a half hours, except pop out onto the deck to take in the view and snap photos?
Picton - the top of the South Island
Our first strong earthquake
The day after we arrived in Picton we experienced our first strong earthquake – magnitude 6.1, occurring just North of Wellington. At first I thought the spin dryer had gone out of control but then realised it was way beyond that. I checked the official earthquake link and it confirmed I wasn’t imagining things. Later we drove an hour and a half to Nelson via Blenheim, through stretching fields of vines surrounded by high mountains, followed by some winding roads through forestry areas that included heavy logging. I was shocked to find how large and how long-established Nelson was.
I originally tried to find accommodation near there but it was all booked. In the end Picton was terrific because it was such a cross-road – the ferry arrived there, the train to Christchurch, which we got on the next day, left from there. I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to have picked up a car after our late arrival and driven through those twisting roads at night, all the way to Nelson.
The day after we arrived in Picton we experienced our first strong earthquake – magnitude 6.1, occurring just North of Wellington. At first I thought the spin dryer had gone out of control but then realised it was way beyond that. I checked the official earthquake link and it confirmed I wasn’t imagining things. Later we drove an hour and a half to Nelson via Blenheim, through stretching fields of vines surrounded by high mountains, followed by some winding roads through forestry areas that included heavy logging. I was shocked to find how large and how long-established Nelson was.
‘The day after we arrived we experienced our first strong earthquake – magnitude 6.1, occurring just North of Wellington. At first I thought the spin dryer had gone out of control but then realised it was way beyond that. I checked the official earthquake link and it confirmed I wasn’t imagining things.’
I originally tried to find accommodation near there but it was all booked. In the end Picton was terrific because it was such a cross-road – the ferry arrived there, the train to Christchurch, which we got on the next day, left from there. I definitely wouldn’t have wanted to have picked up a car after our late arrival and driven through those twisting roads at night, all the way to Nelson.
We were surprised in Auckland and Wellington to find that there were few public parks, and those there were had no shade. In sharp contrast Nelson had a fabulous park, full of shady trees, right in the centre of town. We were wandering past the park when we stumbled across a jeweller who looked interesting. Coincidentially it turned out that he had been commissioned by Weta Workshop to make the vast array of gold rings of many different sizes used in the Lord of the Rings – ‘one ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them’. It was definitely a sign. After much thought, we ended up buying a gold and garnet ring – a replacement for the much-loved Victorian-era wedding ring of my fellow traveller that could no longer be repaired.
Jumping off point
While we were there I realised that Picton was the jumping off point for the Queen Charlotte Track walks which were just across the Sound from us. All those travellers with backpacks I have seen boarding boats each morning had been heading to the Track. Back in 2016 when we last visited New Zealand we thought we might be able to see both the North and South Island in one trip. Wrong! We decided to leave the South Island to a later trip – which, as it turned out, was the trip we were finally on. However, at the time I checked out the Queen Charlotte Track. When I came to book this time I didn’t realise that the place our ferry arrived was the same place people set off for the walks.
It was a serious centre for outdoor activity. One night, as we ate dinner outside one of the restaurants near our accommodation, we got talking to a British woman who had moved to Picton with her female partner because they were free divers, who relished the type of open and outdoor life they could have in Picton. It was certainly a universe of its own. It might possibly be the most beautiful place we stopped in.
Things in the Cook Strait must have settled down, because when I looked out the door on the last night before we left, the Interislander ferry had finally gone and a new one was docking. Hopefully it wouldn’t break down.
Jumping off point
While we were there I realised that Picton was the jumping off point for the Queen Charlotte Track walks which were just across the Sound from us. All those travellers with backpacks I have seen boarding boats each morning had been heading to the Track. Back in 2016 when we last visited New Zealand we thought we might be able to see both the North and South Island in one trip. Wrong! We decided to leave the South Island to a later trip – which, as it turned out, was the trip we were finally on. However, at the time I checked out the Queen Charlotte Track. When I came to book this time I didn’t realise that the place our ferry arrived was the same place people set off for the walks.
It was a serious centre for outdoor activity. One night, as we ate dinner outside one of the restaurants near our accommodation, we got talking to a British woman who had moved to Picton with her female partner because they were free divers, who relished the type of open and outdoor life they could have in Picton. It was certainly a universe of its own. It might possibly be the most beautiful place we stopped in.
Things in the Cook Strait must have settled down, because when I looked out the door on the last night before we left, the Interislander ferry had finally gone and a new one was docking. Hopefully it wouldn’t break down.
Finally we were in Christchurch, in the gorgeous Observatory Hotel, next to the Christchurch Art Centre – the sort of place I always want to be. The train trip was great fun – it was sparsely populated and we had good seats and ran early. The train had been cancelled due to the cyclone, so we were lucky enough to get the last ferry out of Wellington and the first train out of Picton. The woman running the station was approaching retirement, so we had a good chat about why there should be more of it.
‘Finally we were in Christchurch, in the gorgeous Observatory Hotel, next to the Christchurch Art Centre – the sort of place I always want to be. The train trip was great fun – it was sparsely populated and we had good seats and ran early. The train had been cancelled due to the cyclone, so we were lucky enough to get the last ferry out of Wellington and the first train out of Picton.’
The Observatory Hotel, Christchurch
The night we arrived, as we walked from the hotel to the restaurant I had managed to book from the train, we could hear music students rehearsing in the hall next door. The food on the Viking cruise had been very good but when we were briefly in Christchurch when the cruise ship passed through on its way to Auckland, we had lunch at a small wine bar, The Cellar Door, adjacent to the hotel. The pan-fried fish and salmon crudo dishes were exceptional, better than anything we’d had on the ship (except for the sushi).
Foyer and lounge, Observatory Hotel, Christchurch
Fabulous wine selection
As a result, on our first night in Christchurch, we had the fish again. It was Hāpuku or groper, a type of fish I’d not had before. The restaurant has a fabulous wine selection, so I celebrated our arrival with a local Curiousity dry gin and soda. We tried three wines from Central Otago. With the fish I had a Felton Road Chardonnay and my fellow traveller had a Grüner Weltliner, an Austrian variety, increasingly being grown in Australia – and clearly in New Zealand. I finished up, sitting in the outside courtyard with a Mt Edward Gamay. It had been a long day, so we headed back to our hotel.
We had finally turned back on our cruising tracks and ended up in a place we had briefly encountered in the earlier phase of our trip. In Picton we had put a foot on the South Island, now we were in the heart of it.
As a result, on our first night in Christchurch, we had the fish again. It was Hāpuku or groper, a type of fish I’d not had before. The restaurant has a fabulous wine selection, so I celebrated our arrival with a local Curiousity dry gin and soda. We tried three wines from Central Otago. With the fish I had a Felton Road Chardonnay and my fellow traveller had a Grüner Weltliner, an Austrian variety, increasingly being grown in Australia – and clearly in New Zealand. I finished up, sitting in the outside courtyard with a Mt Edward Gamay. It had been a long day, so we headed back to our hotel.
We had finally turned back on our cruising tracks and ended up in a place we had briefly encountered in the earlier phase of our trip. In Picton we had put a foot on the South Island, now we were in the heart of it.
Cellar door restaurant and wine bar, Christchurch - we lived there
We used Christchurch as a central base to travel across the South Island and soon after arriving we caught the legendary TranzAlpine Express to the wild West Coast. At Arthurs Pass, the highest point of the TranzAlpine, we stopped so they could attach extra locomotives to help us through the longest tunnel of the route – the eight and a half kilometer Otira Tunnel. The outdoor viewing decks were closed for this stretch.
The TranzAlpine, one of three stunning train trips we travelled on while in New Zealand
‘In Greymouth our hotel had a large tour group of Chinese staying. I suppose it make it simpler and easier for them, with everything pre-packaged and certain in these uncertain times. In that respect they weren’t much different to most of the Americans on the Viking cruise, who flew in, boarded the cruise and flew out as soon as it finished.’
Pancake Rocks, West Coast
Quite taken with Christchurch
I was quite taken with Christchurch – we absolutely loved our time there. The contrast between it and the other cities we visited in New Zealand was marked. Wellington was pinned between harbour and hills, like Hobart. In contrast Christchurch was flat, so it could spread out, and had parks and trees. When we stopped there briefly several weeks before, I was not sure how much I’d like it, but as a city it seemed to a visitor to be far more dynamic than Wellington – it was like a place coming back from disaster, whereas Wellington was just starting to get there, with its overdue renewal.
I was quite taken with Christchurch – we absolutely loved our time there. The contrast between it and the other cities we visited in New Zealand was marked. Wellington was pinned between harbour and hills, like Hobart. In contrast Christchurch was flat, so it could spread out, and had parks and trees. When we stopped there briefly several weeks before, I was not sure how much I’d like it, but as a city it seemed to a visitor to be far more dynamic than Wellington – it was like a place coming back from disaster, whereas Wellington was just starting to get there, with its overdue renewal.
Christchurch Museum - the day we went to visit it closed for a five year strategic overhaul. We could have been in Italy
If you lived there maybe you wouldn’t be quite as optimistic as a casual visitor, but who knows? Perhaps the unexpected result of a major disaster can be that things are shaken up (so to speak), clearing the way for renewal to happen. Like Germany after the war, destruction can clear the way for a city to bounce back because everything is new (even the old stuff). Unfortunately a major earthquake is not what you’d choose to help make it happen.
Many people I've met, both in Christchurch and elsewhere, have told me how beautiful Christchurch was before the earthquakes struck. I was talking to Sophie, one of the staff at our hotel, and she told me her parents had said to her it was no longer the city they knew, but had instead become the city of her generation.
When I was much younger I made the mistake of trying to see the whole of the National Gallery of Victoria in one day. It was like seeing a whole film festival – exhausting. I think I made the same mistake with the Christchurch Art Gallery. It was amazing, with a comprehensive collection of works by New Zealand printmakers – many tiny – and an astounding exhibition about New Zealand history by Brett Graham, ‘Tai Moana Tai Tangata’.
Then after savouring Christchurch, we picked up a car and headed South for Dunedin, a city I had always wanted to visit – the adventure continued and we still had 12 more days in New Zealand.
‘Perhaps the unexpected result of a major disaster can be that things are shaken up (so to speak), clearing the way for renewal to happen. Like Germany after the war, destruction can clear the way for a city to bounce back because everything is new (even the old stuff). Unfortunately a major earthquake is not what you’d choose to help make it happen.’
When I was much younger I made the mistake of trying to see the whole of the National Gallery of Victoria in one day. It was like seeing a whole film festival – exhausting. I think I made the same mistake with the Christchurch Art Gallery. It was amazing, with a comprehensive collection of works by New Zealand printmakers – many tiny – and an astounding exhibition about New Zealand history by Brett Graham, ‘Tai Moana Tai Tangata’.
Then after savouring Christchurch, we picked up a car and headed South for Dunedin, a city I had always wanted to visit – the adventure continued and we still had 12 more days in New Zealand.
Dunedin – Glasgow of the South
It was the morning of our third day in Dunedin and I was enjoying myself. I’d always wanted to visit. It’s arts school trained many of the best New Zealand artists and the University of Otago had a world-class reputation. Dunedin reminded me in many ways of Glasgow, in both good and bad ways. The extensive vestiges of Victorian architecture were similar. Unfortunately the vaping shops and Irish pubs were like a cancer that brought it down. Like Glasgow, there was a solid underpinning of poverty. As much as I liked New Zealand, it definitely seemed to be a poorer country than Australia and after the most recent series of disasters, it would be even more so.
It was the morning of our third day in Dunedin and I was enjoying myself. I’d always wanted to visit. It’s arts school trained many of the best New Zealand artists and the University of Otago had a world-class reputation. Dunedin reminded me in many ways of Glasgow, in both good and bad ways. The extensive vestiges of Victorian architecture were similar. Unfortunately the vaping shops and Irish pubs were like a cancer that brought it down. Like Glasgow, there was a solid underpinning of poverty. As much as I liked New Zealand, it definitely seemed to be a poorer country than Australia and after the most recent series of disasters, it would be even more so.
Memorial in the once-mighty port of Oamaru
On the drive from Christchurch we stopped in at the once mighty port of Oamaru. It’s a place that was once a major port during the gold rush era and it is full of majestic Victorian buildings – it was astounding, completely unexpected. It’s also the self-proclaimed headquarters of New Zealand steampunk. We went into one of the many galleries and I commented to the woman behind the counter that once all the iron and coal has long gone, it’s arts and breweries that will fill the empty spaces.
‘We stopped in at the once mighty port of Oamaru. It’s a place that was once a major port during the gold rush era and it is full of majestic Victorian buildings – it was astounding, completely unexpected. It’s also the self-proclaimed headquarters of New Zealand steampunk. We went into one of the many galleries and I commented to the woman behind the counter that once all the iron and coal has long gone, it’s arts and breweries that will fill the empty spaces.’
The gallery was a co-operative of local artists from the Central Otago region which rents the building from the Trust that owns it – managed by the local council. She was off the land and had also been involved with rural co-operatives and we had a long chat about how the co-operative movement so often gets taken over and sold off by bankers and financiers, witness the NRMA in Australia. It’s ironic because some of the old buildings at the port had fadings signs of the North Otago Growers Co-operative, one of the old farming co-operatives which would have been inspired by the co-operative movement in Britain, that started in Rochdale on the the outskirts of Manchester.
The gallery was a co-operative of local artists from the Central Otago region which rents the building from the Trust that owns it – managed by the local council. She was off the land and had also been involved with rural co-operatives and we had a long chat about how the co-operative movement so often gets taken over and sold off by bankers and financiers, witness the NRMA in Australia. It’s ironic because some of the old buildings at the port had fadings signs of the North Otago Growers Co-operative, one of the old farming co-operatives which would have been inspired by the co-operative movement in Britain, that started in Rochdale on the the outskirts of Manchester.
Steampunk Headquarters, Oamaru
It had been raining on and off – more on – since we arrived, but I was not complaining since I like the rain and it was good for Central Otago, which had been in drought, with its landscape brown like Australia in normal times.
We walked and drove around Dunedin. It was cold for summer – it reminded me of growing up in Tasmania. I had to keep telling myself that when we were in Greymouth, a third of the way down the South Island, we were level with the Southern-most tip of Tasmania. Now we were considerably lower than that and were going even further South.
Discovering the world of laundromats
On our first day in Dunedin we discovered the world of laundromats – New Zealand has fabulous ones! On our last day we visited the Dunedin Art Gallery, checked out some superb jewellery by local artists – no more purchases allowed, but I did buy a tiny glass sculpture in the shape of the paper aeroplanes I made as a youth. The woman who sold it to me said she came from Arrowtown near Queenstown and we had more news of her while we were in Queenstown.
To celebrate my birthday in the city I had always wanted to visit, we went to dinner around the corner at Moiety restaurant, which showcased local produce in unusual ways. We were also getting to try a wide range of New Zealand wines. It was such fun – a fine way to end our stay in Dunedin. By that stage I was really looking forward to Central Otago and Queenstown.
We walked and drove around Dunedin. It was cold for summer – it reminded me of growing up in Tasmania. I had to keep telling myself that when we were in Greymouth, a third of the way down the South Island, we were level with the Southern-most tip of Tasmania. Now we were considerably lower than that and were going even further South.
Discovering the world of laundromats
On our first day in Dunedin we discovered the world of laundromats – New Zealand has fabulous ones! On our last day we visited the Dunedin Art Gallery, checked out some superb jewellery by local artists – no more purchases allowed, but I did buy a tiny glass sculpture in the shape of the paper aeroplanes I made as a youth. The woman who sold it to me said she came from Arrowtown near Queenstown and we had more news of her while we were in Queenstown.
‘I had to keep telling myself that when we were in Greymouth, a third of the way down the South Island, we were level with the Southern-most tip of Tasmania. Now we were considerably lower than that and were going even further South.’
To celebrate my birthday in the city I had always wanted to visit, we went to dinner around the corner at Moiety restaurant, which showcased local produce in unusual ways. We were also getting to try a wide range of New Zealand wines. It was such fun – a fine way to end our stay in Dunedin. By that stage I was really looking forward to Central Otago and Queenstown.
Street signage in Dunedin - the Glasgow of the South
Originally I didn’t think we’d go to Queenstown, that it would probably be too much a tourist hotspot, but in the end we decided to go there and see what it was like. It was the most expensive place we stayed in on this trip, but I could see why. Driving in (unfortunately in afternoon peak hour traffic) was bumper to bumper for kilometers. That was after the steady stream of traffic the other way, presumably as service workers who couldn't afford to live in Queenstown returned home. We thought it must be the hottest spot in New Zealand – and it was not even ski season. We decided we were going to roll with it and make the most of the atmosphere. After this we had remote Lake Tekapo for two nights, just down from towering Aoraki (Mt Cook), and then our final three nights in Christchurch before we flew out.
The biggest stone fruit and apple orchard ever
The drive from Dunedin through Central Otago was fascinating. By the time you get closer to Queenstown, round Alexandra and Clyde (Sam Neill’s local) vineyards start appearing but before then it’s like the biggest stone fruit and apple orchard you have ever seen. In the strip of land between the rugged mountains on either side, on the banks of the Clutha River, there was more variety than I’d seen in one place before.
Judging by the signs opposing the Labour Government’s Three Waters strategy to manage water resources, it looks like a National Party stronghold (the New Zealand equivalent of the Australian Liberals, rather than the Australian Nationals). We stopped and bought lots of fruit and had a home-made berry and cherry icecream.Our tiny hotel was terrific. They even had canapes and drinks each evening for guests. One night we followed that with a simple dinner in a local Italian restaurant they had booked for us and the food was excellent – all pizzas should be made so well. The Montepulciano was pretty good as well. The surrounding landscape was astonishing – even more dramatic than the route to Greymouth on the West Coast. The photos we took barely hinted at how dramatic the mountains were – and there would be many more to come.
Hang gliders drop in, Queenstown
Once we had settled in we wandered around Queenstown and realised how much there was to it. It was popular and busy but it had lots on offer – across a range of budgets as well. It was also stylish and well cared for, without too much ugly development. It was like Thredbo multiplied several hundred times. In Thredbo there’s not a huge choice of eateries and shops but here it was endless.
‘In the evenings when we are travelling we often have a picnic in our room rather than eating out – which is why where we stay is so important. We’d been eating the truckload of fruit we bought on the way through Central Otago – the apples were the freshest we’d ever eaten and the apricots actually had flavour.’
In the evenings when we are travelling, we often have a picnic in our room rather than eating out – which is why where we stay is so important. We’d been eating the truckload of fruit we bought on the way through Central Otago – the apples were the freshest we’d ever eaten and the apricots actually had flavour. Our hotel was a small boutique one with only 20 rooms, tucked away on the edge of the city centre. The only time we really noticed the noise was when we had the window open at night and the backpackers from Flaming Kiwi Backpackers behind us returned from clubbing at 4.30 am.
View from Coronet Peak, Queenstown
Overnight we received news that there has been much progress with our new apartment. Buyer inspections were going to start in mid March just after we got home and we would probably be moving in as early as mid May. I was enjoying travelling but I looked forward to having a home again and cooking a meal myself.
Where the wine industry began
The next day, after a lunch of our sandwiches on the oval next door to our accommodation, we drove to Arrowtown, the old gold-mining settlement up the road. It was full of shops, many very expensive, but also many with very high quality goods. In a gallery in Dunedin we had met an artist who grew up in Arrowtown and when we mentioned her in the local museum, we were told that everyone knows her and she was there that weekend for a party.
Our final full day in Queenstown was the fullest day of our stay. We drove up Coronet Peak, one of the ski mountains, which was packed with mountain bike activity, for the best views we’d seen while there. Then we took back roads to the Gibbston Valley, where the wine industry first began in Central Otago, for lunch followed by a wine tasting at Kinross Cellars, an outlet for five small local wineries that included some of the award-winning pioneers of the industry in the region.
Gibbston Valley - where the Central Otago wine industry began
Then we finished the day with a cruise on the lake on a glorious historic coal-fired steamship that I’d have expected to find only in Glasgow. Queenstown was an unexpected gem and I’m pleased that, almost by accident, we came. I came across the steamship cruise only after I’d booked our accommodation and was looking at what Queenstown had to offer. To top off the day, we enjoyed our final happy hour at our hotel.
‘My fellow traveller’s 95 year-old mother once had a test of her state of mind where she was asked to say how she felt about her life. She replied “happy”. The nurse asked her if she could elaborate and she replied “very happy”. As she got older, she became both more happy and more succinct. In recognition of her we were no longer going to happy hours, only to very happy hours.’
Steamer, Queenstown
My fellow traveller’s 95 year-old mother once had a test of her state of mind where she was asked to say how she felt about her life. She replied ‘happy’. The nurse asked her if she could elaborate and she replied ‘very happy’. As she got older she became both more happy and more succinct. In recognition of her we were no longer going to happy hours, only to very happy hours.
Iridescent turquoise lakes
The next day we were off through Wanaka, past Aoraki (Mt Cook) to Lake Tekapo, where we were going to stay for two nights. Many of the best places we’d discovered so far on the trip had been because we stumbled over them or friends suggested we must see them – like Pancake Rocks on the West Coast and Oamaru, the historic port on the way to Dunedin.
The next day we were off through Wanaka, past Aoraki (Mt Cook) to Lake Tekapo, where we were going to stay for two nights. Many of the best places we’d discovered so far on the trip had been because we stumbled over them or friends suggested we must see them – like Pancake Rocks on the West Coast and Oamaru, the historic port on the way to Dunedin.
We arrived in Lake Tekapo after a spectacular drive from Queenstown, past iridescent turquoise lakes due to the fine silt from the surviving glaciers round Aoraki (Mt Cook). We had two nights there, then drove to overshoot Christchurch to visit the historic French town of Akaroa on the Banks Peninsula.
Turquoise blue lakes
Ironically our first land fall in New Zealand (and the South Island) had been Lyttleton, the main Harbour for Christchurch, when our Viking cruise docked there nearly four weeks ago. After the Christchurch earthquake, Akaroa was used temporarily to dock cruise ships coming ino Christchurch because the tunnel linking Lyttleton and Christchurch was blocked.
After Akaroa we had three final nights in Christchurch before we were to fly home to Sydney and catch the train to Canberra. There would be a gap of a couple of months and then we would rendezvous with our new apartment in the sky, looking down on birds.
I’d managed to take some superb photos on the momentous trip. However, some of the most striking places – like the stark bare mountains around Queenstown are difficult to accurately represent without a specialist camera. The Southern Alps are beyond anything we can see in Australia – it’s like I imagine landing on Mars.
Height and heights
For a comparison, I looked up some heights.
Aoraki (Mt Cook) 3,724 m
Mount Kosciuszko 2,228 m
Mt Everest 8,849 m
Mont Ventoux 1,909
Mont Blanc 4,809
I’d been very taken by Christchurch – or at least the parts I’d seen. It was somehow appropriate that our first landfall in New Zealand was also the place from where we were departing – we had come full circle. Walking home from the Arts Centre we wandered through the Botanic Gardens – the very place where we were first dropped off in Christchurch by the bus from Viking Mars. We’d become quite familiar with the city and had even given up on expensive taxis and started using buses – we caught the number 29 bus trom the airport after we dropped off our hire car and we planned to use it to get to the airport with our luggage.
We ended up buying a hat from the merino people who run Bendigo Station in the Southern Alps, the people who had a cellar door for wool that we had visited on our drive from Queenstown to Christchurch. My fellow traveller said she didn’t really need another hat but I replied ‘we always need another hat’. It came in a cloth bag with ‘more trees please’ printed on it. That could be the motto for New Zealand. We realised we buy much of our clothing from New Zealand.
I’ve called my travel series ‘Travelling light’, but initially on this trip it was anything but. As a result of not travelling for years we had overpacked, so we had to post a large box of clothing and shoes back home from Auckland. Ironically it was mainly New Zealand clothing we had bought in Australia. Trying to pack for a cruise, followed by a trip across two islands, on trains and ferries and in cars, was no easy task.
Timing was everything
Then it was time to fly home. With this holiday timing had been everything. At the Art Centre we had been circling round the Central Art Gallery and Rutherfords Den, an exhibition about the founder of modern physics who used to work at the site when it was a university. On the day before we flew home we intended to finally see them – bad luck with the Rutherford museum, it was closed in preparation for a major festival that was about to start as we left. When we fronted up to the Canterbury Museum it had just closed for five years for a major upgrade.
It kept happening. Whenever we tried to buy sandwiches for lunch we’d always find they had sold out. In Tekapo many of the shops were closed because we were there on Monday and Tuesday. We arrived in Auckland just after major flooding had occurred and all the basements had hoses running into the street pumping out the water and we left Wellington on the last ferry out just as a cyclone was due to hit Auckland. Then we got on the first train out of Picton after they had all been cancelled for two days due to the cyclone. We managed to miss a lot – both good, but mainly bad.
The flight was surprisingly short, direct from Christchurch to Sydney, with no stop in Auckland. Given that COVID-19 was still with us, on this trip we decided to spend the kids inheritance – wait, we don’t have kids – and fly Business Class. It costs, but the minute I saw the endless crammed queues waiting to check in at Christchurch Airport and then realised there was only one solitary person in the Business Class queue, I saw my future. Sorry, kids. Because I booked in online well before we flew we found ourself seated in the absolute front row – the only person in front of us was the pilot. We were so distanced from other people that I didn’t even wear a mask – someone who double-masked on all the trains we travelled on during this trip, both in Australia and New Zealand. I thought hopefully I wouldn’t regret it.
Suddenly we were in Sydney. It was 8.01 am there, which meant in New Zealand it was 10.01 am. We were staying near the airport, because when I had booked prices for accommodation in Sydney were through the roof. This precinct felt like being in Singapore, which seemed vaguely familiar. We could hear the planes, which was unusual and comforting.
Dreaming of a savoury scone
The next morning I woke up dreaming of a savoury scone – my idea of the taste of New Zealand. They were everywhere in New Zealand and I had totally fallen for them. We had one last train trip – Sydney Central to Canberra at midday and our excursion to the Shaky Islands would be over. The whole thing had been marvellous and the only things that didn’t work out quite as we had hoped didn’t matter too much. Now it was back to real life – whatever that might be.
‘Some of the most striking places – like the stark bare mountains around Queenstown are difficult to accurately represent without a specialist camera. The Southern Alps are beyond anything we can see in Australia – it’s like I imagine landing on Mars.’
I’d managed to take some superb photos on the momentous trip. However, some of the most striking places – like the stark bare mountains around Queenstown are difficult to accurately represent without a specialist camera. The Southern Alps are beyond anything we can see in Australia – it’s like I imagine landing on Mars.
Height and heights
For a comparison, I looked up some heights.
Aoraki (Mt Cook) 3,724 m
Mount Kosciuszko 2,228 m
Mt Everest 8,849 m
Mont Ventoux 1,909
Mont Blanc 4,809
I’d been very taken by Christchurch – or at least the parts I’d seen. It was somehow appropriate that our first landfall in New Zealand was also the place from where we were departing – we had come full circle. Walking home from the Arts Centre we wandered through the Botanic Gardens – the very place where we were first dropped off in Christchurch by the bus from Viking Mars. We’d become quite familiar with the city and had even given up on expensive taxis and started using buses – we caught the number 29 bus trom the airport after we dropped off our hire car and we planned to use it to get to the airport with our luggage.
‘It was somehow appropriate that our first landfall in New Zealand was also the place from where we were departing – we had come full circle. Walking home from the Arts Centre we wandered through the Botanic Gardens – the very place where we were first dropped off in Christchurch by the bus from Viking Mars.’
We ended up buying a hat from the merino people who run Bendigo Station in the Southern Alps, the people who had a cellar door for wool that we had visited on our drive from Queenstown to Christchurch. My fellow traveller said she didn’t really need another hat but I replied ‘we always need another hat’. It came in a cloth bag with ‘more trees please’ printed on it. That could be the motto for New Zealand. We realised we buy much of our clothing from New Zealand.
I’ve called my travel series ‘Travelling light’, but initially on this trip it was anything but. As a result of not travelling for years we had overpacked, so we had to post a large box of clothing and shoes back home from Auckland. Ironically it was mainly New Zealand clothing we had bought in Australia. Trying to pack for a cruise, followed by a trip across two islands, on trains and ferries and in cars, was no easy task.
Timing was everything
Then it was time to fly home. With this holiday timing had been everything. At the Art Centre we had been circling round the Central Art Gallery and Rutherfords Den, an exhibition about the founder of modern physics who used to work at the site when it was a university. On the day before we flew home we intended to finally see them – bad luck with the Rutherford museum, it was closed in preparation for a major festival that was about to start as we left. When we fronted up to the Canterbury Museum it had just closed for five years for a major upgrade.
‘As a result of not travelling for years we had overpacked, so we had to post a large box of clothing and shoes back home from Auckland. Ironically it was mainly New Zealand clothing we had bought in Australia.’
It kept happening. Whenever we tried to buy sandwiches for lunch we’d always find they had sold out. In Tekapo many of the shops were closed because we were there on Monday and Tuesday. We arrived in Auckland just after major flooding had occurred and all the basements had hoses running into the street pumping out the water and we left Wellington on the last ferry out just as a cyclone was due to hit Auckland. Then we got on the first train out of Picton after they had all been cancelled for two days due to the cyclone. We managed to miss a lot – both good, but mainly bad.
The flight was surprisingly short, direct from Christchurch to Sydney, with no stop in Auckland. Given that COVID-19 was still with us, on this trip we decided to spend the kids inheritance – wait, we don’t have kids – and fly Business Class. It costs, but the minute I saw the endless crammed queues waiting to check in at Christchurch Airport and then realised there was only one solitary person in the Business Class queue, I saw my future. Sorry, kids. Because I booked in online well before we flew we found ourself seated in the absolute front row – the only person in front of us was the pilot. We were so distanced from other people that I didn’t even wear a mask – someone who double-masked on all the trains we travelled on during this trip, both in Australia and New Zealand. I thought hopefully I wouldn’t regret it.
‘The minute I saw the endless crammed queues waiting to check in at Christchurch Airport and then realised there was only one solitary person in the Business Class queue, I saw my future.’
Suddenly we were in Sydney. It was 8.01 am there, which meant in New Zealand it was 10.01 am. We were staying near the airport, because when I had booked prices for accommodation in Sydney were through the roof. This precinct felt like being in Singapore, which seemed vaguely familiar. We could hear the planes, which was unusual and comforting.
Dreaming of a savoury scone
The next morning I woke up dreaming of a savoury scone – my idea of the taste of New Zealand. They were everywhere in New Zealand and I had totally fallen for them. We had one last train trip – Sydney Central to Canberra at midday and our excursion to the Shaky Islands would be over. The whole thing had been marvellous and the only things that didn’t work out quite as we had hoped didn’t matter too much. Now it was back to real life – whatever that might be.
We had seen a great deal in New Zealand - and especially during our first venture to the South Island. We'd been reminded of the range of regions in New Zealand, and the excitement, and also the sadness - of the Christchurch earthquakes and the mining disasters of the wild west coast. It had been a very special visit, to a pair of giant islands that were like a bigger and better version of the island home where I grew up - Tasmania.
Memorial to yet another mining distaster on the wild west coast of the South Island
Once we were back in Australia – and back home(less) in Canberra – there were a few final memories I wanted to remember about our epic trip. I booked the whole New Zealand holiday from scratch. After a gap of three and a half years, I soon remembered how to do it again. When you book your own holiday you get to enjoy it three times – when you research and plan it, when you travel and when you look at the photos and notes about it afterwards.
A trip full of birthdays
One important and enjoyable element of the trip had been the huge variety of New Zealand wines we’d been able to try. It had been an eye-opener, getting to try Pinot Noir that actually tasted good and while Sauvignon Blanc (unfortunately, from my perspective) still rules, there were many other varieties being produced. Pinot Gris was very common, but also Syrah, Merlot and even Pinot Blanc, originally an Alsace variety. Given our cruise to New Zealand had been converted from a river cruise in 2020 from Amsterdam to Basel along the Rhine, passing right through Alsace, it somehow seemed highly appropriate.
‘When you book your own holiday you get to enjoy it three times – when you research and plan it, when you travel and when you look at the photos and notes about it afterwards.’
We’d had reason to celebrate. This had also been a trip full of birthdays – we were away so long that both I and my fellow traveller had a birthday on the road. The 70th Birthday Year of Stephen rapidly ticked over into the 71st Birthday Day of Stephen.
Because we had missed Wellington and the shore excursions in Napier had to be cancelled, Viking had come through with generous compensation for future cruise credits. There were 880 passengers, so that meant lost revenue for them of $1.76 million – cruising certainly involved big bucks.
When we were disembarking from the cruise in Auckland almost all the American passengers were flying straight home. For them a cruise is the whole holiday, whereas for us it was just the start, a convenient and relaxing way to get to New Zealand. I said to one of them from Cincinatti ‘are you flying directly home?’ He repled ‘I wish. We have a 12 hour flight from Auckland to San Francisco.’ I replied ‘Most times Australians can only dream of a 12 hour flight.’
There had been some bizarre elements to the trip along the way – like the taxi driver in Auckland who went on about how New Zealanders would always drive cars rather than take public transport and then was incapable of finding the main train station. After driving around and around, we finally had to give directions, because luckily we had walked there the day before to check where it was. I suppose it wasn’t helped by the fact that the magnificent old train station has been turned into social and emergency housing (not a bad thing in itself, though of course, as always it meant it was condemned to a life of sub-standard maintenance) and replaced by a container unloaded next to the tiny train platform. The hotel where we stayed in Wellington had previously been an isolation hotel during the COVID-19 pandemic.
‘In the world of cruising Viking is pretty exceptional, and cruising on a ship is very seductive, but I wondered if we might have been nearing the end of our (short-lived) cruising days. Our voyage to Norway was definitely one of the most memorable moments of my life – gliding through the deep fjords at night and travelling far above the Arctic Circle – but it was not all like that.’
We had universally bad experiences with taxi drivers in Auckland, with the first one having a card machine that didn’t work and in the process of getting paid in cash, charging me double. It was only $12 extra, but it still left a bad taste. Hopefully both incidences were atypical.
In the world of cruising Viking is pretty exceptional, and cruising on a ship is very seductive, but I wondered if we might have been nearing the end of our (short-lived) cruising days. Our voyage to Norway was definitely one of the most memorable moments of my life – gliding through the deep fjords at night and travelling far above the Arctic Circle – but it was not all like that. The food on the cruise could be very good but in Christchurch the lunch at the small wine bar, The Cellar Door, near where we stayed in the grounds of the former Canterbury University, now Christchurch Arts Centre, was exceptional.
Another cruise on the high seas?
On the trip we heard about an ocean cruise that circumnavigated Britain, which looked interesting, but I wasn’t sure my fellow traveller was up for another cruise on the high seas – too choppy and rocky for her liking. On our return we immediately rebooked the river cruise on the Rhine from Amsterdam to Basel that we were originally going to take in 2020, which was postponed repeatedly and then converted into our Sydney to New Zealand cruise. We were going with friends on that cruise, which would be different. We wondered if river cruising might open up future options.
Alternatively, we thought that may well be that. It had been fun, but pleasant as it was, there was something unusual about cruising and if you wanted to do it well, it wasn’t not cheap. On top of that I didn't feel at home with many of the people that cruising attracts – the crew of the ship can often seem more interesting than many of the passengers. One of them, Amelia, had never worked on a cruise ship before and had just joined Viking. She had recently graduated from hospitality college in Mauritius. I was fascinated because years ago, when I worked in publishing, we had published a book about Mauritius.
We wondered if a villa in the South of France or a cottage in Scotland or Cornwall – all of which we’d enjoyed before – might well be more our thing for the future. Time would tell and our travelling time would eventually run out, so we had to choose wisely.
On the Viking cruise there was a lot of music, much of it quite good. At times I felt like dancing. I thought when my fellow traveller and I got back home we might enrol in dancing lessons. Many years ago, when I lived in Sydney, my friend Noeline and I took ballroom dancing lessons – I wondered if it might be time to get back in the saddle, the challenge would be which style to pick. I think there are three essential skills in life – learning a second language, learning to play a musical instrument and learning to dance. Perhaps you could add to that learning to cook and learning to laugh. The rest is icing on the cake.
© Stephen Cassidy 2025
See also
Travelling light–along the Rhine and beyond
‘Travel during the global pandemic had become an artform. After our first ever cruise, from London to Bergen, via North Cape, way above the Artic Circle, in 2019, we decided to try something very different – a river cruise. We chose a short week-long one from Amsterdam up the Rhine to Basel in Switzerland. Due to the pandemic, this was postponed several times and then finally converted to a cruise in local waters, when Viking started to operate from Australia. It was then postponed again, before we finally sailed. Apart from the many attractions of travelling the length of the Rhine, the trip meant that I saw two cities in two countries I had never seen before – Amsterdam in the Netherlands and Basel in Switzerland’, Travelling light–along the Rhine and beyond.
See also
Travelling light–along the Rhine and beyond
‘Travel during the global pandemic had become an artform. After our first ever cruise, from London to Bergen, via North Cape, way above the Artic Circle, in 2019, we decided to try something very different – a river cruise. We chose a short week-long one from Amsterdam up the Rhine to Basel in Switzerland. Due to the pandemic, this was postponed several times and then finally converted to a cruise in local waters, when Viking started to operate from Australia. It was then postponed again, before we finally sailed. Apart from the many attractions of travelling the length of the Rhine, the trip meant that I saw two cities in two countries I had never seen before – Amsterdam in the Netherlands and Basel in Switzerland’, Travelling light–along the Rhine and beyond.
‘Once I had never been on a cruise and never imagined I would ever go on a cruise. That all changed when I visited Scotland in 2017. I became fascinated by the degree to which Scotland and Northern England were connected to Norway. A cruise to Norway on a Norwegian ship seemed highly appropriate. When I saw Viking Jupiter sitting high on the Thames, waiting for us to board I knew I had to come to the right place. The year before last, in September 2023, having recently returned from what was only my second journey with Viking Cruises, with another one planned the following year, I wanted to send the company some feedback about our experience. This is an expanded version of what I sent them back then, with another cruise under our belt since and a further one booked for 2026’, All aboard – travelling with the descendants of the Vikings.
Returning to France – liberté, égalité, fraternité
‘As we prepare to visit France yet again later this year, I had to ask myself why I find it so fascinating. Part of the reason is the influence French culture has had in so many areas. Part of the reason concerns a story told about Zhou Enlai, the former Premier of China. Asked by Kissinger what he thought were the long term effects of the French Revolution, he replied ‘it’s too soon to tell’. Even though it seems he was referring to the student uprising of May 1968, the truth is his answer could more accurately be a reference to the original French Revolution. I am very fond of a long term view – which seems particularly Chinese’. Returning to France – liberté, égalité, fraternité.
‘As we prepare to visit France yet again later this year, I had to ask myself why I find it so fascinating. Part of the reason is the influence French culture has had in so many areas. Part of the reason concerns a story told about Zhou Enlai, the former Premier of China. Asked by Kissinger what he thought were the long term effects of the French Revolution, he replied ‘it’s too soon to tell’. Even though it seems he was referring to the student uprising of May 1968, the truth is his answer could more accurately be a reference to the original French Revolution. I am very fond of a long term view – which seems particularly Chinese’. Returning to France – liberté, égalité, fraternité.
Travelling light – Into Northern seas: UK, Norway, Denmark and Germany 2019
‘Neither I nor my fellow traveller had been on a cruise before, but suddenly we were sailing from London to Bergen, retracing the steps of the ancient Vikings. When we were in Scotland in 2017, we became entranced by the centuries of exchange and movement between Northern England and Scotland and Norway. We saw a cruise that travelled from Edinburgh to Bergen and became quite excited about the idea. Before you knew it, we were booked to sail from London to Edinburgh, then across the Norwegian Sea far above the Arctic Circle to the Northern-most tip of Norway before working out way down through the fjords and passages of the Norway coast to Bergen, the second largest city in Norway. We hadn’t even been discouraged by the fact that earlier that year another Viking cruise ship was nearly wrecked when one of its engines failed in a huge storm and passengers had to be lifted off by helicopter above raging seas’, Travelling light – Into Northern seas: UK, Norway, Denmark and Germany 2019.
Travelling light – Island on fire: Tasmania 2019
‘On an island you’re never far from the sea – that is unless the island is huge, like Australia. In tiny Tasmania, perched like an afterthought at the foot of Australia, even the mountains in the centre are not far from the ocean raging around them – just as in the distant homeland from which those who settled it came. On the main island, though, everywhere is a long way from everywhere else. Two islands, very different in size, in many ways with both similar and different histories. Both on fire. But this not just about the fires – it’s about what happened in front of the fire, the life lived in a time of warming and burning, even if it sometimes felt like a rehearsal for the end of the world’, Island on fire.
‘On an island you’re never far from the sea – that is unless the island is huge, like Australia. In tiny Tasmania, perched like an afterthought at the foot of Australia, even the mountains in the centre are not far from the ocean raging around them – just as in the distant homeland from which those who settled it came. On the main island, though, everywhere is a long way from everywhere else. Two islands, very different in size, in many ways with both similar and different histories. Both on fire. But this not just about the fires – it’s about what happened in front of the fire, the life lived in a time of warming and burning, even if it sometimes felt like a rehearsal for the end of the world’, Island on fire.
I smoke baby cigars
‘Smoking baby cigars in the dark of the backyard. Like some Cuban presidente haranguing the crowd with reminders, I proffer a list of romantic anniversaries, our May 4th movement, our July 12th uprising – our moment when everything became new’, I smoke baby cigars.
Cut back to black
‘Cut back to black, thin chill drizzle mid-winter – infinite regression on petrol’. Also called ‘Revhead heaven’, Cut back to black.
Coming back to these stones
‘Coming back to these stones – in the sandy dry reaches of the Coorong in South Australia’s South East birds flicker across the flat water like beads of run-away mercury’, Coming back to these stones.
Landscapes in a rear vision mirror
‘Heading at a moment's notice into Broken Hill, breaking several traffic laws on the Barrier Highway, in the rear vision mirror the land kept switching colours’, Landscapes in a rear vision mirror.
Stopping by Lake George
Cut back to black
‘Cut back to black, thin chill drizzle mid-winter – infinite regression on petrol’. Also called ‘Revhead heaven’, Cut back to black.
Coming back to these stones
‘Coming back to these stones – in the sandy dry reaches of the Coorong in South Australia’s South East birds flicker across the flat water like beads of run-away mercury’, Coming back to these stones.
Landscapes in a rear vision mirror
‘Heading at a moment's notice into Broken Hill, breaking several traffic laws on the Barrier Highway, in the rear vision mirror the land kept switching colours’, Landscapes in a rear vision mirror.
Stopping by Lake George
‘Lake George is a vast stretching freshwater lake, with no outlet. It is only diminished by evaporation. Many stories are told about Lake George, a still point of the turning earth, with all the quiet of the eye at the centre of a hurricane’, Stopping by Lake George.See other work from the Conversations group exhibition, Goulburn Regional Art Gallery, 2004 – a collaborative exhibition of writers and visual artists.
State of origin
Multimedia piece developed with visual artist, Deborah Faeyrglenn, State of origin looked at where we come from, where we go next and where we truly belong. In this work the writer and visual artist combined word, image and computer technology to make visual music. Words and images moved across the computer screen, with no fixed address, State of origin.
The lost art of conversation
Installation, developed with visual artist, Deborah Faeyrglenn, on words, meaning, reflection and infinite (or at least, partial) regression. Three tall thin vertical mirrors stand against the wall, covered in bursts of words. Three matching paper shadows flow out from the wall along the floor. Words on the mirrors flutter and blur into shadows, The lost art of conversation.
balloon
A fictional narrative work in the form of a website, the website as writing. About the adventures of a refugee from the big city who sets up the High Country Thought Balloon Company. A series of brief vignettes about the characters, situations and stories which intersect the path of the balloons as they soar across the skies of the Southern Tablelands and Snowy region. It is about changing perspective, balloon.
Malacoota Inlet
‘Shutdown in a flat, wet land, the line beween sea and sky where grey meets grey, where stricken yachts come in’, Malacoota Inlet.
Sitting on twigs
‘Sitting on twigs in the flat lands, in a piece of country loaded with meaning, like a tightly coiled spring’, Sitting on twigs.
An everyday life worth living – indefinite articles for a clean, clever and creative future
‘My blog “indefinite article” is irreverent writing about contemporary Australian society, popular culture, the creative economy and the digital and online world – life in the trenches and on the beaches of the information age. Over the last ten years I have published 166 articles about creativity and culture on the blog. This is a list of all the articles I have published there, broken down into categories, with a brief summary of each article. They range from the national cultural landscape to popular culture, from artists and arts organisations to cultural institutions, cultural policy and arts funding, the cultural economy and creative industries, First Nations culture, cultural diversity, cities and regions, Australia society, government, Canberra and international issues – the whole range of contemporary Australian creativity and culture’, An everyday life worth living – indefinite articles for a clean, clever and creative future.
‘My blog “indefinite article” is irreverent writing about contemporary Australian society, popular culture, the creative economy and the digital and online world – life in the trenches and on the beaches of the information age. Over the last ten years I have published 166 articles about creativity and culture on the blog. This is a list of all the articles I have published there, broken down into categories, with a brief summary of each article. They range from the national cultural landscape to popular culture, from artists and arts organisations to cultural institutions, cultural policy and arts funding, the cultural economy and creative industries, First Nations culture, cultural diversity, cities and regions, Australia society, government, Canberra and international issues – the whole range of contemporary Australian creativity and culture’, An everyday life worth living – indefinite articles for a clean, clever and creative future.
Beyond a joke – surviving troubled times
‘We live in troubled times – but then can anyone ever say that they lived in times that weren’t troubled? For most of my life Australia has suffered mediocre politicians and politics – with the odd brief exceptions – and it seems our current times are no different. Australia has never really managed to realise its potential. As a nation it seems to be two different countries going in opposite directions – one into the future and the other into the past. It looks as though we’ll be mired in this latest stretch of mediocrity for some time and the only consolation will be creativity, gardening and humour’, Beyond a joke – surviving troubled times.
‘We live in troubled times – but then can anyone ever say that they lived in times that weren’t troubled? For most of my life Australia has suffered mediocre politicians and politics – with the odd brief exceptions – and it seems our current times are no different. Australia has never really managed to realise its potential. As a nation it seems to be two different countries going in opposite directions – one into the future and the other into the past. It looks as though we’ll be mired in this latest stretch of mediocrity for some time and the only consolation will be creativity, gardening and humour’, Beyond a joke – surviving troubled times.
‘I’ve been a little out of touch with what’s been happening in the world of Australian creativity and culture because for all of February and early March this year I was visiting Aotearoa New Zealand, on a journey that originally started in November 2016 and was then resumed over six years later. While I was away the Labor Government announced its new National Cultural Policy and soon after I arrived back I received bad news of a loss from the tight group of friends and colleagues who had helped form my cultural world-view so many decades earlier – when we spoke the language of community, the language of culture and the language of changing the world for the better’, Absent without leave – ocean crossing in an (almost) post-pandemic world.
Industries of the future help tell stories of the past – Weta at work in the shaky isles
‘After three weeks travelling round the North Island of New Zealand, I’ve had more time to reflect on the importance of the clean and clever industries of the future and the skilled knowledge workers who make them. In the capital, Wellington, instead of the traditional industries that once often dominated a town, like the railways or meatworks or the car plant or, in Tasmania, the Hydro Electricity Commission, there was Weta. It’s clear that the industries of the future can thrive in unexpected locations. Expertise, specialist skills and industry pockets can occur just about anywhere, as long as you have connectivity, talent and a framework of support that makes it possible. These skills which Weta depends on for its livelihood are also being used to tell important stories from the past’, Industries of the future help tell stories of the past – Weta at work in the shaky isles.
‘After three weeks travelling round the North Island of New Zealand, I’ve had more time to reflect on the importance of the clean and clever industries of the future and the skilled knowledge workers who make them. In the capital, Wellington, instead of the traditional industries that once often dominated a town, like the railways or meatworks or the car plant or, in Tasmania, the Hydro Electricity Commission, there was Weta. It’s clear that the industries of the future can thrive in unexpected locations. Expertise, specialist skills and industry pockets can occur just about anywhere, as long as you have connectivity, talent and a framework of support that makes it possible. These skills which Weta depends on for its livelihood are also being used to tell important stories from the past’, Industries of the future help tell stories of the past – Weta at work in the shaky isles.
My nephew just got a job with Weta – the long road of the interconnected world
‘My nephew just got a job in Wellington New Zealand with Weta Digital, which makes the digital effects for Peter Jackson’s epics. Expertise, specialist skills and industry pockets can occur just about anywhere, as long as you have connectivity, talent and a framework of support that makes it possible. This is part of the new knowledge economy of the future, with its core of creative industries and its links to our cultural landscape. Increasingly the industries of the future are both clever and clean. At their heart are the developing creative industries which are based on the power of creativity and are a critical part of Australia’s future – innovative, in most cases centred on small business and closely linked to the profile of Australia as a clever country, both domestically and internationally. This is transforming the political landscape of Australia, challenging old political franchises and upping the stakes in the offerings department’, My nephew just got a job with Weta – the long road of the interconnected world.
‘My nephew just got a job in Wellington New Zealand with Weta Digital, which makes the digital effects for Peter Jackson’s epics. Expertise, specialist skills and industry pockets can occur just about anywhere, as long as you have connectivity, talent and a framework of support that makes it possible. This is part of the new knowledge economy of the future, with its core of creative industries and its links to our cultural landscape. Increasingly the industries of the future are both clever and clean. At their heart are the developing creative industries which are based on the power of creativity and are a critical part of Australia’s future – innovative, in most cases centred on small business and closely linked to the profile of Australia as a clever country, both domestically and internationally. This is transforming the political landscape of Australia, challenging old political franchises and upping the stakes in the offerings department’, My nephew just got a job with Weta – the long road of the interconnected world.
‘We are all used to being astounded as we see growing evidence of how widespread contact and trade was across the breadth of the ancient European world and with worlds far beyond. The Romans and the Vikings and many after them all roamed far and wide. This is the stuff of a hundred television documentaries that show just how interconnected the ancient world was. Connection, not isolation, has always been the norm. Seaways were bridges, not barriers – a way to bring people together, not divide them. Now important archaeological work confirms just how widespread that cross-cultural, international network was across the whole of Northern Australia, long before the British arrived’, The Asian Century was underway long before the British arrived.
History all around us – the long term practical impact of cultural research
‘Cultural research has long term impacts in terms of our developing body of knowledge which stretch far into the future. Researchers are finding stories in our major cultural collections that were never envisaged by those originally assembling them – a process that will continue long into the future. The collections of our major cultural institutions are becoming increasingly accessible to the very people the collections are drawn from and reflect. In the process they are generating greater understanding about some of the major contemporary issues we face’, History all around us – the long term practical impact of cultural research.
‘You don’t have to be part of ‘Indigenous affairs’ in Australia to find yourself involved. You can’t even begin to think of being part of support for Australian arts and culture without encountering and interacting with Indigenous culture and the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities and individuals who make it and live it.’ The Magna Carta – still a work in progress.
‘I’ve travelled around much of Australia, by foot, by plane, by train and by bus, but mostly by car. As I travelled across all those kilometres and many decades, I never realised that, without ever knowing, I would be silently crossing from one country into another, while underneath the surface of the landscape flashing past, languages were changing like the colour and shape of the grasses or the trees. The parallel universe of Indigenous languages is unfortunately an unexpected world little-known to most Australians.’ The hidden universe of Australia's own languages.
Flight of the wild geese – Australia’s place in the world of global talent
‘As the global pandemic has unfolded, I have been struck by how out of touch a large number of Australians are with Australia’s place in the world. Before the pandemic many Australians had become used to travelling overseas regularly – and spending large amounts of money while there – but we seem to think that our interaction with the global world is all about discretionary leisure travel. In contrast, increasingly many Australians were travelling – and living – overseas because their jobs required it. Whether working for multinational companies that have branches in Australia or Australian companies trying to break into global markets, Australian talent often needs to be somewhere else than here to make the most of opportunities for Australia. Not only technology, but even more importantly, talent, will be crucial to the economy of the future’, Flight of the wild geese – Australia’s place in the world of global talent.
‘As the global pandemic has unfolded, I have been struck by how out of touch a large number of Australians are with Australia’s place in the world. Before the pandemic many Australians had become used to travelling overseas regularly – and spending large amounts of money while there – but we seem to think that our interaction with the global world is all about discretionary leisure travel. In contrast, increasingly many Australians were travelling – and living – overseas because their jobs required it. Whether working for multinational companies that have branches in Australia or Australian companies trying to break into global markets, Australian talent often needs to be somewhere else than here to make the most of opportunities for Australia. Not only technology, but even more importantly, talent, will be crucial to the economy of the future’, Flight of the wild geese – Australia’s place in the world of global talent.
Crossing boundaries – the unlimited landscape of creativity
‘When I was visiting Paris last year, there was one thing I wanted to do before I returned home – visit the renowned French bakery that had trained a Melbourne woman who had abandoned the high stakes of Formula One racing to become a top croissant maker. She had decided that being an engineer in the world of elite car racing was not for her, but rather that her future lay in the malleable universe of pastry. Crossing boundaries of many kinds and traversing the borders of differing countries and cultures, she built a radically different future to the one she first envisaged’, Crossing boundaries – the unlimited landscape of creativity.
‘When I was visiting Paris last year, there was one thing I wanted to do before I returned home – visit the renowned French bakery that had trained a Melbourne woman who had abandoned the high stakes of Formula One racing to become a top croissant maker. She had decided that being an engineer in the world of elite car racing was not for her, but rather that her future lay in the malleable universe of pastry. Crossing boundaries of many kinds and traversing the borders of differing countries and cultures, she built a radically different future to the one she first envisaged’, Crossing boundaries – the unlimited landscape of creativity.
Music makes the world go round – the bright promise of our export future
‘After ABBA, in an unexpected break from its traditional way of building national wealth from natural resources, Sweden managed to discover a new source of income. It was not as you would expect coal or oil. Rather than oil what it had discovered was song royalties, part of a fundamental change in the nature of modern economies which transformed them from relying solely on natural resources, transport and manufacturing to make creative content a new form of resource mining. Examples like theirs point to potentially major opportunities for the Australian music industry to become a net exporter of music,’ Music makes the world go round – the bright promise of our export future.
‘After ABBA, in an unexpected break from its traditional way of building national wealth from natural resources, Sweden managed to discover a new source of income. It was not as you would expect coal or oil. Rather than oil what it had discovered was song royalties, part of a fundamental change in the nature of modern economies which transformed them from relying solely on natural resources, transport and manufacturing to make creative content a new form of resource mining. Examples like theirs point to potentially major opportunities for the Australian music industry to become a net exporter of music,’ Music makes the world go round – the bright promise of our export future.
No comments:
Post a Comment