Carols by Candlelight

12/19/00: Waiheke Island, New Zealand

Being in the southern hemisphere is a bit disorienting. The face of the moon is unfamiliar. The best sun exposure is to the north. And it’s full-on summer here, just when things are getting most frigid—and festive—at home.

So how do the Kiwis celebrate? One lovely tradition is called Carols by Candlelight. Throughout Auckland—perhaps New Zealand—families gather when the sun goes down (about 8:30) in parks and on beaches to light candles and sing songs of the season. Here on Waiheke, the gathering took place on a neighboring beach and featured, among other things, a local church choir, a brass band, an American folk singer, drummers and fire dancers, and hundreds of people scattered on blankets along the curving bay. In a true celebration of diversity, some held Bibles while others went BYOB. We sang along and struggled to keep our candles lit in the wind. It was mostly impossible. But the glow of the night was undiminished and we felt, in a small way, utterly connected to the most meaningful holiday moments we are missing at home.

Life’s a Beach

12/17/00: Waiheke Island, New Zealand

The best thing about living on a beach is probably the sound of the surf. On a good morning, it almost drowns out the 7 am hammering at the homesite right behind us.

But another bonus is the endless collection of shells and sea creatures the rising tide deposits on the shore twice a day. We’ve seen giant jellyfish and starfish. Hermit crabs and clams. Jackpots of sand dollars. Here are a few pieces that we’ve collected. Of course, we’ll return them to the sea (per NZ law) when we leave this lovely place.

Bush Views

12/15/00: Waiheke Island, New Zealand

Over the past month we’ve been trying to figure out why New Zealanders are so concerned about bush. Some Kiwis are urban types, others tend farmland, and lots of them gravitate to beaches. But no one ignores bush.

The Powers That Be, we hear, have stated that bush can no longer be removed; it’s to be a permanent part of the landscape. Even respectable property owners with big ideas can’t touch it. If you do—or it catches fire or dries up—they’ll make you replant it at your own cost! Naturally, this infuriates some folks. Does not my vote count, they ask, or at least my intent? No, say those with Absolute Power. Bush rules rule. Thus bush lovers are most pleased. They put on their best puppy-dog faces and point out that, if conditions are right, bush thrives and matures quickly. That in as little as four years, it will appear nearly natural. Those who disagree resist briefly, mutter under their breath, perhaps even pound the table in the pub. And then they go back to their farms and beaches, quickly and quietly, like good little citizens.

We warned him about its dangers, but this young boy was determined to investigate the bush.

Carving in Stone

12/13/00: Waiheke Island, New Zealand

Limestone carvings appear throughout the island. Here, a Maori gentleman touches up a piece that greets visitors to a Maori retreat that overlooks a quiet beach.

This particular sculpture is a receptacle for gifts (coins) from those who visit the retreat and want to contribute for what they use. Another, nearby, calls upon ancestors to protect guests and haunt any who do harmful things while on premises. Sun, wind, and rain actually strengthen and smooth the artworks over time, he explained. But sometimes a crack occurs that needs a bit of love and attention.

Interview: James the Gardener

12/11/00: Waiheke Island, New Zealand

We’ll be on the island of Waiheke for two months. And although we’ll probably always have plenty to say, it’s only appropriate to let some other people have a voice too. So we’ll introduce some sunny citizens of Waiheke from time to time. We begin with James, a hard-working and talented local gardener.

Q: So how did you get into gardening?
A: I just love plants. I did other studies. But someone suggested gardening for me as a form of healing, the plants really responded, and I’ve done it since.

Q: How many gardens do you tend?
A: 35. People keep recommending me and asking me to come back.

Q: How do you manage so many?
A: Fortunately, they’re all on the island—except one—that’s part of a marine sanctuary on Goat Island north of Auckland. Also, I just started employing someone.

Q: Still, how do you keep yourself inspired and fit?
A: You really want to know? Meditation. I meditate three times a day—about self-realization. Usually about a half-hour, but ten minutes will do it.

Q: Is it hard to grow plants here, since there’s no extra water?
A: Not really. You just have to make sure the plants are settled before winter. And know what plants will do well where. The winds and salt air near the beach make for a different environment than just one block inland.

Q: Have you always lived in New Zealand?
A: Almost. I grew up on the west coast, actually, where it’s much more rugged—with dark greens and black sand and intense storms. And I lived for a while in Switzerland.

Q: How long has Waiheke been your home?
A: Nine years. This is really my home now.

Q: Why?
A: It’s a magical place with so much spirit. The people are so diverse, friendly, and accommodating. You can be yourself. Someone with a million dollars and a big Jeep mixes with someone who goes barefoot.

Q: Is that part of being on an island, you think?
A: Island life is different that way. You have to chip in and care for one another.

Q: Are there any things about New Zealand you’d like to change?
A: There are probably some things to look at; we’re still a young country. We’re so far away and there’s so much room that we are a bit isolated. But that’s changing, I think.

Q: Do you have a computer to see yourself on our site?
A: No. I don’t even know how to turn one on! (Laughs.)

Q: Then please stop in and we’ll show you. Thanks for joining us.
A: It’s been my privilege.

The Annual Santa Parade

12/9/00: Waihele Island, New Zealand

At 4 o’clock on this summery Saturday, the Waihekeans welcomed Christmas with drums and bugles, homemade floats, bellydancers, Saint Nick, and other festive spectacles.

Since the island hosts only about 7,000 residents, the procession (which most anyone can enter) lasted only 25 minutes. Clearly, that’s not long enough for a grand parade. So they simply circled around and marched up the street again!

Working Through It

12/8/00: Waiheke Island, New Zealand

We’re on sabbatical, yes. But it’s also a working holiday, if such a thing is possible. Our business (purveying ideas and words) is quite portable, so we have taken the liberty, once again, of testing the limits of its mobility. (To read about the last time we did this, in 1994, click on Past Travels in the lower left of this page.)

When we left home a month ago, we brought our Powerbook and a handful of projects: a major tradeshow that needed a theme; a website we wrote a few years back that required a complete overhaul; and a few other loose ends we didn’t get sewn up before we departed. Three adapter plugs later, we’ve almost finished them all. And already have a few more on the docket.

Of course, working around the world isn’t as blissful as the IBM commercials would have you believe. There have been the requisite technical difficulties and disasters—chronicled earlier in this travelogue. But there are also formidable psychological challenges to contend with.

There is the lure of lounging and leisure—being practiced by most everyone around you wherever you go. There are the endless temptations of whatever novel place you’re in. It can be torture to tether yourself to a laptop in a cold spare bedroom when a crashing surf or village churchbells are calling. Or to try to work on the kitchen table when a sleep- and child-deprived 3-year-old is shoving a baseball card in your face or driving a toy Jeep up your arm.

Working on 777s, in hotel rooms, on cedar decks, and terracotta terraces is both glamorous and grueling. Yes, it is better that toiling in a cubicle. But it is still work, and—just like at home—you’d often rather be doing something else.

Yet there are times when sitting down to work is a comforting return to the familiar and mundane. It’s a welcome escape from surly clerks, stale croissants, and incessant drizzle. Working gives a traveler a justifiable reason to opt out, skip a side trip, and get a little privacy and P&Q. But that’s the bright side. Mostly, working on a trip like this is a strenuous exercise in discipline and concentration.

Nonetheless, we feel privileged that our work can accompany us wherever we go. And that our clients are willing to do the same. We are humbled by their enthusiasm and trust, and grateful that they put up with the inconveniences that invariably accompany a journey of this kind. In that sense, we are not on this adventure alone. In some small measure, they, too, are travelling the world with us. As are you, dear reader. And to steal a slogan, we sincerely hope you enjoy the ride.

Flora and Fauna Down Under

12/2/00: Waiheke Island, New Zealand

The people on this island must love their gardening; greenery and colors dominate the landscape here. Of course, given the virtual tropical climate, perhaps the plants grow themselves.

That’s certainly true with the pohutukawa tree (shown here) which, according to locals, releases its red flowers before Christmas when the summer ahead will be a long, warm one. They’re blooming now—as are hundreds of other plants, some of which we recognize and many we don’t.

The most confounding thing, though, is the lack of fauna (critters). We’ve seen only one wild four-legged creature since we’ve been here—don’t know what it was. There’s nary an alley cat. And hardly any bugs, either. In Minnesota, you need to watch your step to avoid tripping over the squirrels, rabbits, and other rampant rodentia. What gives? Who knows? But after screaming for years at varmint that do big damage to gardens, homes, and sanity, this respite is as welcome as the buds and the blooms.

Welcome to New Zealand

11/29/00: Waiheke Island, New Zealand

When we left Kuala Lumpur, the rain was pouring down, and the evening traffic was barely moving. It was also raining in Auckland, NZ, when we landed the next day (as if we bring our own clouds).

We meandered through the city to the port on a shuttle bus, and then boarded a ferry. Less than an hour later, we were on the island of Waiheke and in our home for the next two months. It’s summer here. The flowers and green are aglow all over. The first impressions left us glowing too. It’s good to be “home,” whatever that means. We’ll soon find out.

A Malaysian Market

11/26/00: Kuala Lumpur

Desperate to dig deeper into the city’s mysteries, we scored a babysitter at the hotel and had a night out on the town in Kuala Lumpur’s most vibrant neighborhood, Bangsar, where the night market was in full swing.

Here are a few glimpses of what we saw.