And now back to the capital city of Wellington, with only a few weeks left before striding further to more adventurous shores. I checked into The Cambridge Hotel, a dense grey building lurking in between a few substandard restaurants and local cafes on Cambridge Terrace. The Hotel, much derided in local terms due to the vagabond clientele frequenting its pub, has a 'backpackers wing' where the low lives are sheltered away from view of the moderate paying guests. The rooms are not so bad; impeccably high wooden beams and ceilings. There is graffitied and amended 1950's iconic posters pinned up on the walls to advertise the in-house deals on offer, there's also the added bonus of some curious looking erotica art hung proudly throughout each floor. The poster that caught my eye, in my current economic crisis, is that of eggs on toast for breakfast at The Cambridge Pub - annexed to the side of the hotel, for a wondrous $2. Thus far this week I have enjoyed this calorie and protein rich diet everyday at around ten in the morning, alongside the company of the local constructors and dead beat drunks whom at dawn already have a warm pint in their hands.
Wellington has had a turbulent past in regards to its geographical location. The tectonic plate movements of where the Australian plate rides over the heavier, but thinner Pacific plate has resulted in three major fault-lines running close to Wellington City. The last major earthquake was recorded in 1855, hitting the lofty heights of 8.2 on the Richter scale. Although a series of smaller undulations have been witnessed in the past hundred years, the population of the country hold their breath for the onslaught of another, long overdue, 'big one'. On Saturday night, I thought that I was in the midst of the predicted tremors as my bunk bed rattled violently to and fro. On taking off my night eye mask that I stole from my Qantas flight over (very Zorro) and removing my neon orange foam earplugs I was distraught to discover that the god of sleep was disturbed only by the nocturnal habits of two loathsome Welsh vulgarians, enraptured by the poisonous vipers of lust on the bunk directly above me. I decided to pack my rucksack - Rollerpig - first thing in the morning to escape the abominations of common decency and moved rooms down the hallway as the very fabric of my innocence had been torn.
Te-Papa entrance
Having made casual acquaintances with a southern country lad from England with the whimsically Dickensian name of George Baden Hugh Sulley, we opted to spend an afternoon to visit the much lauded Te Papa National Museum by the quay. The hugely enjoyable and interactive Te Papa, translated loosely from Maori as 'Our Place', was built relatively recently in 1998 and has a wealth of collections spanning over five areas: Art, History, Pacific, Maori and Natural Environment. The real jewel in the crown for those visiting is the preserved specimen of a captured female Colossal Squid, measuring 33 foot in height and having the eyes the size of a football.
Other highlights included a decorative display of 'pounamu' - the jade stone that holds much 'wairua' and 'mana' (spiritual presence and prestige), which increases with each passing of the emerald ornaments from generation to generation. The Maori believe that genealogy 'Whakapapa' connects people to one another and also to the natural world. A fascinating insight.
Meeting House in Te Papa (Te Hono ki Hawaiki)
After Te Papa's abundance of riches I walked up to the edge of the CBD to the Executive Wing of the New Zealand Parliament Building, named 'The Beehive' - an atrocious building conceived by the Scottish architect Sir Basil Spence in 1964. I took advantage of the daily free tours of the building so as to absorb the intricate workings within the government and the processes of developing state legislation. Murray, our soft faced and kind tour guide with a self proclaimed heavy dose of Alzheimer's disease, banished concerns of his mental state and successfully orientated the tour group down all the appropriate corners of the building. This included an extensive demonstration of the anti-earthquake measures of the structure, utilising 417 base isolators which effectively separate the building from its very foundations in the likely event of an upheaval from the surface of the earth. They should perhaps think about installing some of these base isolators onto my previous lower bunk at the Hotel.
Parliament - 'The Beehive'
Interestingly enough, the style of the debating chamber, including the pine green carpet and moss green chairs are direct reflections of the House of Commons in London. Murray was overly keen to address (on four separate occasions during the hour long presentation) that there are five Samoan members of Parliament at present (of the 122 in total). I'm still not overly sure of the significance of this, but it was pleasing to hear nonetheless, if only to make our elderly guide feel worthy of his role.
On to a more light hearted evening at the local cinema complex, where George (and all his elaborately embroidered affluent names) picked 'Iron Man 2' to watch in the comfort of an empty theatre. The verdict; not too bad and Robert Downey Jnr's instant on screen charisma ensured that it was totally watchable. In return I treated George to my favourite Sixth Form free period past time of 'Cinema Roulette' whereby after watching the initial film you paid for, you sneak into a random screen. You then have to take a seat and view whatever movie appears in its entirety. Our luck was in, as when we stealthily entered Screen 9 it was just starting to show some trailers and we were then rewarded with our patient and lawless game with a showing of Ridley Scott's Robin Hood. Russell Crowe's mythical character demonstrating all the merits of lawlessness, providing the poor with illegal provisions that we reflected with our own courageous game of chance.
Wellington Song of the Day: Fleet Foxes - Blue Ridge Mountains
As I sat amid the Sunday morning ambiance of the Olive Cafe on Cuba Street, I sipped my flat white coffee and was mesmerised by the smartie spectrum of glittering cakes behind the glass counter ahead of me that I could not afford to purchase as the baroque harmonies of the Seattle based indie-folk band's first album was playing softly in the background. This took my mind off succumbing to gluttony whilst the chorus of weekend babies crawling and crying ceased for only a few moments.
Fleet Foxes perform Blue Ridge Mountains on The Letterman Show - very Cold Mountain indeed:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dx7_Gmr4qMM
i-Pod Song of the Day: Josh Rouse - Rise
Josh Rouse's soothing voice and melodies usually put me to sleep, and I've never needed his songs more than this week. This is the last tune from his album 1972.
i-Pod Song of the Day: Josh Rouse - Rise
Josh Rouse's soothing voice and melodies usually put me to sleep, and I've never needed his songs more than this week. This is the last tune from his album 1972.
Should have caught a ride on a Brooklyn train / 30 years old and nothing's changed
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