Tahoma, Lake Tahoe (days 69 to 73)

An eight hour drive from Las Vegas in Bob's BMW 535 and we were at the cabin in Tahoma, Lake Tahoe.  There's not too much to say about the drive.  Until you get to the last fifty miles or so, there's not too much to see apart from the desert and a few almost derelict towns, mostly ex-mining settlements.  [This posting is actually being written on the journey back from Tahoe.]

Actually, I rather like the desert, with its low shrub, Joshua trees, occasional tumbleweed, hawks hovering, looking for prey, and the odd dust devil. The dust devils are quite remarkable and I don't understand how they're formed.   Apparently, they are just mini-tornadoes, but they don't seem to move at all, just sitting there blowing up little clouds of dust.  They are only few and far between, so it's not at all obvious what causes them.  

There's not too much colour in the desert, but it seems that there are always impressive mountains in the distance, in whichever direction you care to look.  And the skies today have been so dramatic, clear blue with lots of really interesting low cloud, high-level Cirrus and the occasional vapour trail, slowly spreading, as it breaks up.   They're the sort of skies you might see as Microsoft Windows wallpaper!


Then, of course, there's the odd brothel, not too many, but every fifty miles or so.   They are really seedy looking places, often not much more that a caravan, stuck out in the desert, but with somewhat  'exotic' names such as Shady Lady.  It's hard to imagine who uses them, apart from, perhaps, the odd trucker.   Prostitution is not legal in Las Vegas, but it is in some of the outlying counties.  However, I can't really believe it's very hard to find whatever you want in Las Vegas, provided you have the money.

It's over twenty years since I was last at Lake Tahoe, but not much seems to have changed.  There's been some new building but, thankfully, so far at least, it's not been over-developed and is still a very attractive holiday location.  The lake itself is about twenty-five mile long, surrounded by mountains and totally calm, at least whilst we were there.  The colours vary from various shades of blue to an emerald green, depending on the depth of the water, which, at its deepest is over 1,600 feet.  In summer, there's a lot of activity on and around the lake, especially boating of various forms and swimming. 

One day, we drove to the southern-most point of the lake, Emerald Bay, one of the most photographed places in the country.   I remembered it from the last time I was there and it's still as beautiful.   Whilst we were there, we also walked up to the nearby Eagle Falls.  My camera surely worked overtime that day.

The nearby town of Truckee also looks very much the same as it used to, albeit with quite a few of the shops having closed down as a result of the recession.   The railroad still runs right down the south side of the main street.  Unfortunately, Truckee, like Las Vegas, seems to have been hit much harder by the recession than most places in the UK, maybe because they're both tourist centres and discretionary spending is the first thing to be hit when times are hard.  Incidentally, last evening I managed to find out how Truckee got its name.   Apparently, it's a corruption of "welcome" in the language of the Washoe, the local native-American tribe.

When I first went to Tahoma, the cabin was owned by Bob's dad, but it's now been taken over by his sister, Dorinda, and her husband, Ron. They have been wonderful hosts during these last few days and I only hope I can return the compliment in Portugal before too long.  For the first couple of days, their son Mike and his girlfriend, Susan, were also with us and we had a lot of fun together, especially playing poker.   Susan didn't really want to play as she said she was no good at it, but, of course, she ended up being the biggest winner.

Winter has been late in sloughing off its colder aspects this year and we've had snow on a couple of nights.  Indeed, it was snowing quite heavily as we drove up through Reno and all the way on to Lake Tahoe.   The local ski runs at Squaw Valley (where they had the Olympics some years ago) and at Heavenly Valley (which we could see right across the lake) both look well covered in snow and we think they are still open, although we never went close enough to see for sure.  Last night it snowed again and the car was covered this morning, but the roads are clear and right now we're headed to Las Vegas.   If I see anything interesting on the way, I may note it down later.

Yesterday and the day before, we went north into California to play golf.  Both the courses we played, Plunas Pinas and Whitehawk Ranch, are really beautiful, with tall pines lining all the fairways and lovely views over to the nearby Sierra Nevadas, still covered in snow.  The courses were in pretty good condition, despite the weather they've suffered of late, and we had a great time.  Apart from the game in Las Vegas a couple of days ago, it was the first time I'd played for several months and I was quite pleased with my golf, winning one game and halving the other.   I used Bob's old irons and shared his driver, but it's about time he bought himself a sand-iron!


I'm supposed to flying home tomorrow, but I hear that the BA strike started yesterday and is planned to run for five days.   Last time I checked, BA thought that they would be running my flight, but I won't know more until I can get on the Internet at Bob's place.   It would be a shame if I had to stay in Las Vegas longer, but, if it happens, I guess I'll just have to bite the bullet and bear it out until they deign to fly me home again.   As they say, it's a tough job, but someone's got to do it.


I said I'd comment if anything interesting happened.  Well it has.   I was driving about ten miles short of Tonapah when I got pulled over for speeding.  A Highway Patrol car, coming the other way, said he clocked me on his radar at 95mph.  I don't believe I could have been going that fast as there should be a 10% allowance on the speedometer and I don't think it was reading more than 90, possibly 95 at the most.   But you don't argue with those guys and so I took my punishment like a man.  We had to follow him 10 miles to the nearest courthouse, in, would you believe, Radar Road! There I had to lodge a bond of $347, plus $10 credit card fee and was given a date in July for the court appearance,  before a Judge Joe Maslach.  Since I obviously won't appear, the bond will be used to pay my fine. 

I was also ticked off by the cop for not having my passport with me, as there was no evidence that I was in the country legally and I might well have evaded Homeland Security and could be a terrorist.  In all honesty, he was pretty reasonable and I certainly was speeding, if not quite as fast as he maintained.  He didn't pull his gun or abuse me, but he did say that if he'd wanted to be nasty, he could have made us drive all the way back to Hawthorne, some ninety miles in the direction from which we'd just come.  Given that we still have over 200 miles to go, that would have been a real pain. 

Whilst I was waiting to be processed, Bob wound me up saying that I might well be handcuffed, have to spend the night in jail and then be butt-fucked by a couple of red-necks, but at least none of that happened so I'll just have put it all down to experience.  He also said, in all seriousness, that if I'd been caught driving at over 100mph, it would have been really nasty, involving a charge of reckless driving, with a hefty fine, and possibly having to go straight to gaol. 

I did get a picture of the courthouse, for the record, and wanted to ask the cop for his picture (I did get his car - see above), but I thought that might be pushing it a bit.  As an afterthought, since the speeding ticket, we've seen nothing but cops on the road and at least eight drivers getting tickets.   The coming weekend is the Memorial Day holiday and it seems they've decided to come out early this afternoon.   I've now been caught speeding in both New Zealand and the USA, which is not too clever.  I won't be driving again this holiday, but I'd better watch out when I get back to the UK. 


On my last night in Las Vegas, Bob and I went downtown for a little action.   The downtown area is much more like Las Vegas as I remember it all those years ago.  We didn't do too much, but we did have dinner in the Golden Nugget, walked around town a bit, watched the light show in Freemont Street and hit a couple of casinos.  First we went to Binion's, where the dealers were all busty girls with it all hanging out.  Unfortunately, we didn't like the variant of blackjack they played, so we soon moved back to the Golden Nugget, where the games played were entirely conventional.   We were both quite lucky, ending up ahead by about $50 each, more than enough to pay for dinner, so we were quite happy and went home for a last bottle of wine, before my departure next day.


I still don't actually know whether or not I'll be able to get back tomorrow. The BA website says that the flight will be leaving tomorrow, but they now have no record of my booking, so I don't know what will happen.  I'll try to talk to a real person in the morning.   So far I've only been able to get through to a call centre with automated responses, which are no good to me.  [Update: there was actually no problem at all.  It was just that BA had used a completely different reference from the one I'd been given and which had worked for every other flight on my trip.  For some reason, BA uses a different number, but doesn't bother to tell you what it is!]

Las Vegas Revisited (days 66 to 69)

I'm writing this on Saturday morning as we drive up to Lake Tahoe in Bob's BMW 535 and the way he's throwing the car about today, there may be lots of typos!  We're off for a long weekend to play some golf and to relax in the mountains.  It's supposed to be an eight-hour trip, but with his driving, we should be there by lunch time.


Getting to Las Vegas was not without incident.   I had booked a flight from Vancouver going via Los Angeles, but it was such an early start that it would have meant going to Vancouver the night before and staying there for a night.   Instead, I booked a cheap ticket that went from Victoria to Las Vegas, via Seattle.   The flight left at a convenient time and only had a short stopover in Seattle, so it suited me fine.   The only problem was that when I told my travel agent I wouldn't be using the flights I'd booked as part of my round-the-world ticket, I was told that I would have to pay £70 plus taxes just to cancel the flight that I'd already paid for and now wouldn't be using.  What a rip off and I'm still trying to find out who gets the £23 taxes I had to pay.   I thought that the taxes added on to tickets were for flights that you took and I just don't understand why I should pay taxes again, when I'm not even flying. 

Anyway, it was good to see my old friend, Bob, when I arrived that evening.  There wasn't time to do much, other than to grab a quick bite to eat and go to bed.   We waited until the following day for doing my touristy bit.   And what a change there's been since I was last here, over twenty ago.  As I recall, The Strip then consisted of lots of relatively small buildings, with the odd large Caesar's Palace and Flamingo here and there.   Now, it's completely dominated by huge complexes, mostly linked together by shaded walkways and even including a free overhead train system.   Caesar's now spreads over many acres and includes a host of separate blocks.   Major venues like Bellagio's, Mirage, Aria, Wynn, Venetian, Mandalay Bay, Paris, Planet Hollywood, MGM and New York New York have all sprung up, each including at least a casino and one or more hotels, many also having theatres or sports venues. Las Vegas has over 100,00 hotel rooms, more than any other city in the world.  

The Aria casino is actually in a development called City Centre, a massive shopping and entertainment extravaganza that boasts many steel and glass structures by world-renowned architects and also includes a lot of public art together with shops for all the well-known designer labels.   As with most of the places on The Strip, Bob has been responsible for some of the internal build-out in many venues in City Centre.

The casinos themselves are much the same inside, if a little more luxurious.  The most notable change is that you no longer use coins in the slot machines.   These now swallow bank notes at an alarming rate.   If you're lucky enough to win, the machine makes the sound of coins rattling out, but in fact just clocks up credits.  At any time, you can cash in by printing a ticket, which you can then use in another machine or exchange for cash.  I guess it won't be long before they take credit cards.


The tables are still much the same, although there are more games available, including Pai Gow, much favoured by the Chinese.  I'm not sure of the rules, but it looks a lot like Texas Hold 'Em with a few bells and whistles.  There's also something called Three Card Poker, which I think is just Three Card Brag by a different name.   There seem to be a lot more tables for Baccarat, a game I've never played, and quite a few Roulette and Crap tables, the latter being very popular and the most noisy.  And of course there's the ever-popular Blackjack, the only game I've played here so far.  Fortunately, Bob and I are each ahead by about $50, so far.   But who knows what's to come?  Update: we both ended up over $100 ahead.

One of the casino hotels has a huge aquarium behind the reception desk (I'll try to remember to upload the video when I get back to the UK) and another one has an equally large aquarium right above the pool.  In this case, one of the water slides includes a run through a tube that goes through right the aquarium, which includes some very large sharks.


The Downtown area still looks much the same as it used to, with casinos like The Golden Nugget still going strong.  Bob reckoned that the odds, particularly for the slots, were better downtown as locals use it for gambling in preference to The Strip, which is more for tourists.  From what I could see, the only difference so far as Blackjack is concerned is that Downtown they use two decks compared with four on The Strip and that's only an advantage if you're good at counting cards and able to adjust your strategy accordingly.

One thing that did surprise me is that smoking is still allowed in casinos.   It's banned pretty much everywhere else in Las Vegas, but the casinos argued that it would be bad for their business and they are such an important income generator for Nevada that they got their own way.  The bars and restaurants tried the same tactic, but without success.   So gambling is obviously more important that eating and drinking.  I must say they, though, that rather few people smoked and that the smoke was seldom really a problem.

Talking of restaurants, the food is generally pretty good and not too expensive, although the days of free (or very cheap) food and drinks in the casinos has long since gone.  Portions are, to say the least, generous, as witnessed by my half of a salt-beef sandwich that Bob and I shared.  I must say, it was very tasty.


The other evening we went to see Love, the Cirque du Soleil spectacular playing at Mirage, one of the huge casino complexes.   The show room was specially built just for that one event, at a cost of over $50m.  The show has been running for about three years and was rated the best show in Las Vegas for the last two years running and I can well see why.  It is truly spectacular and is based entirely on Beatles songs, mostly from the Sergeant Pepper era.  It's non-stop Beatles' records from start to finish, but with a fantastic sound that floods the whole showroom with brilliant clarity.   A true Wall of Sound, but much more enjoyable than any Phil Specter record ever was. 

Most of the performers are dressed in costumes reminiscent of the Sergeant Pepper album cover and it's non-stop action from start to finish. Unfortunately, photography is not allowed, so I can't include any pictures.  The aerial artistes, skaters, tumblers, dancers and the like are all superb and, in some cases, quite breathtaking.   It's amazing that there aren't a lot of accidents, although inevitably they do have them from time to time.  Bob's niece works out with a couple of the skaters at her local gym and she said that one of them had a very nasty fall a while back, but that happily he's now back performing again. 


As well as Love, Cirque du Soleil has a number of other shows in Las Vegas, including: Mystere (their first show, more circus-based), O (a shocking play on words as this show is all on water), Zumanity (a sexier show for the over eighteens), Ka (martial arts based), Krisangel (not sure what this is) and Elvis (the latest show, with an obvious theme).  None of these shows is available anywhere else in the world and so if you want to see any of them, you'd better come to Las Vegas.

I thought it was interesting to see that the performers in nearly all the shows, apart from Cirque du Soleil, are what might loosely be called Golden Oldies.  Whilst I was here, they included Cher, Johnnie Mathis, Julio Iglesias, Bette Midler, Gloria Gaynor and Donnie and Marie Osmond.  I know there were some more, but I can't recall them off-hand.   I suspect that the reason is that it's probably only the older visitors who can afford the price of the tickets, as it's not cheap to visit shows in this town.


A couple of days ago, we played golf at Legacy, a public course just a couple of miles from Bob's house.   It's a desert course, although we were hardly ever in the sand, apart from when we hit bunkers.  The greens were in excellent condition and quite fast.  From the blue tees the course was over 6,700 yards, which is pretty long for me.   I was quite pleased to end up with a net 73, just one over par, managing to just beat Bob on the last hole, despite having to use some old sticks that he dug out of his garage for me.   On the back nine, I did persuade him to let me use his rather fine Taylor Made R5 driver and from that point on my driving improved significantly.   I must look into getting one of these on my return to England.

I can't resist including this picture as it shows our beloved ex-leader in his new career.  I'm sure we all wish him every success.  I doubt he'll make as much money as Tony Blair has with his lecture tours, but you've got to admire the guys guts.


There's lots more I could say about Las Vegas.  It's all a bit zany, but I really like it here.  Just for fun, I've included one more picture below, but you can see the full set on my Picasa site at: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/reedpv/LasVegas?authkey=Gv1sRgCIPl7OfWjojoKA#

This 'penis' is actually a restaurant and one that Bob was involved in developing. 

Poker Variants

These are the variants that were used when I played in Bill’s poker school, in Victoria.

Unless otherwise stated, all games are both highball and lowball (i.e. pot will be split between the two).  After all betting has concluded, players together hide 0, 1 or 2 chips in their hands and then all display them at once, with the numer of chips specifying which option they are contesting as follows: 0 = lowball hand, 1 = highball hand, 2 = both lowball and highball hands.

• Uno   Can be played as an ‘add on’ to any other variant and allows each player to choose one of his cards to be wild (for his hand only, not for other players, who choose their own wild card).  The same card must be used for both high and low games.  Only one card can be wild and so if a player denominated the four of clubs as wild, then only that four would be wild and not any other fours he may hold.
• Kings and 2s   A variant that may be added as an option to most other variants.  In this case, kings are wild for lowball hands and 2s wild for lowball hands.
• Mexican   Each player receives a total of five cards, of which one card must be face down. After the first two cards have been dealt (one up and one down), a betting round begins with the high card clockwise of the dealer button, making a forced opening bet to start the action. After the betting is complete, the players may expose their down cards, if they wish.  This action must be completed prior to the deal of the third card, which may be delivered up or down, depending on whether or not previously dealt down cards have been opened.  When the third card has been delivered, betting then occurs.  The fourth and fifth cards are then dealt and played according to the same format. The player with the highest ranking hand wins the pot.  Mexican may be played as a Uno variant, with jokers or with any other wild card specification.
• Anaconda   Seven cards are first dealt to each player face down.  Each player then discards two cards and turns cards over, one at a time, with a round of betting after each turn.  As a variant, before discarding two cards, the dealer may opt for two or three cards to be passed to the next player, either clockwise or anti-clockwise.
• Badugi   This is a four-card low-ball game, the intention being to end up with the lowest ‘Badugi’ (described below).  Each player is dealt four cards, after which there is a round of betting.  Each player may then replace up to three cards, after which there is another round of betting.  This replacement and betting process is repeated twice more, so that there are three replacement rounds in total.  A Badugi hand consists of one to four cards (from among the four cards in a player's hand) with distinct ranks and suits. Thus duplicates of suit or of rank are disregarded. Any four-card badugi hand beats a three-card Badugi hand, a three-card badugi hand beats a two-card Badugi hand, and a two-card Badugi hand beats a one-card Badugi hand.  A four-card Badugi hand consisting of all four suits is called a "Badugi".  Two Badugi hands containing the same number of cards are evaluated by comparing the highest card in each hand (where ace is low). As in lowball, the hand with the lowest card is superior.  If there is a tie for the highest card, the second highest card (if there is one) is compared.  If the ranks of all the cards in the Badugi hand are the same, the two hands tie.  Suits are irrelevant in comparison of two hands.  The best hand is ace, 2, 3 and 4 in different suits and the worst hand is four kings.
• Omaha   This a variant of Texas Hold ‘Em, the difference being that each player is first dealt four cards face down, of which he must use two and only two.  After a round of betting comes the ‘Flop’ (three cards dealt in the middle, face up), then another round of betting.  This is followed by the ‘River’ and the ‘Turn’, each being one card face up, with a round of betting after each.  A lowball hand must be eight or lower.
• 2s to 7s   In this lowball game, aces are high and straights and flushes count against you.  Each player is dealt five cards face down, after which there is a round of betting.  Then, for three rounds, each player may replace up to three cards, with a round of betting each time.
• Follow the Queens   A 7-card stud variant where any time a face-up queen is dealt, the next card dealt (i.e. to the next player) is wild, together with all other cards of the same denomination.   The player receiving the wild card has to put a pre-agreed amount into the pot.  Note that when a subsequent queen is dealt, the following card will most likely be different from the current wild card, in which case the previously wild cards are no longer wild.  If no queens are dealt face up, then all down queens are wild.
• Baseball   A 7-card stud variant in which 3s and 9s are wild and any up fours may be replaced, at the owner’s discretion.  If agreed in advance, a player may have to pay for face-up 3s or 9s.
• Verdu   Variant of 5-card draw where each player may exchange up to three cards after the first round of betting.  Each player then exposes his cards in which ever order he chooses, with a round of betting after the first four exposures.
• Pass to Mr Wilson   A 6-card stud game, with a single hole card.  After the first (hole) cards have been dealt, the dealer turns over a card off the top of the pack and offers it to the first player (dealer’s edge).  If he doesn’t want it, it is offered to the next player and so on until the last player, who must take it.  When a player does want the card turned over, he takes it and the dealer then ‘fills in’ cards for the players who previously refused the card.  The dealer then continues offering cards to the following players until all have two cards.  There is then a round of betting, with the person who first took the first card being the player to open the betting.  The next round continues in the same manner, except that the dealer starts by offering a card to the second player, rather than to dealer’s edge.  Play continues in this way, with the card first being offered to the next player and with a round of betting after cards have been given to each player.  The last round of betting is after all players have received six cards, including their hole cards.

Victoria (days 58 to 66)

I always enjoy my stays in Victoria and this was no exception.  I write this on the morning of my departure and, as has been usual on this trip, the weather has just turned.  It has been beautiful spring weather all week long and now it’s started to rain.  Pretty much the same happened when I left New Zealand.

I’ve been staying with my brother Bill and his wife Judy and their younger daughter Becky.  Their older daughter, Jenny, has also been around a lot, with her husband, Scott, and their two daughters, Sophia and Juliet.  Sophia is two years old, blond with blue eyes, very articulate for her age and quite adorable, at least when she’s in a good mood.  She is also very photogenic, just like her mother.  Juliet is just two months old, with a ginger tint to her hair and blue eyes.  She’s also adorable, but for me at least, kids become more interesting when they’re a little older.

I shouldn’t forget the dogs.  Bill and Judy have an off-white Labradoodle called Rufus, a cross between a Labrador and a Poodle.  They chose that breed as they are supposed to be quiet and intelligent, not too large and non-shedding.  What they didn’t realise is that it’s the F2 hybrid variety that has those characteristics, not the straight cross.  The F2 is a second generation cross, i.e. a first generation cross crossed back with a poodle, ending up with a dog that is three quarters Poodle and one quarter Labrador.  In their case, they ended up with a very large dog that sheds like crazy, not what they wanted at all.  However, he is quiet and intelligent, they love him to bits and wouldn’t change him for the world.

Jenny’s dog is completely different.  She's called Morley and is a straight cross between a Maltese and a Yorkie, known as a Morkie.  She is tiny puppy, with masses of dark-brown curly hair and runs around the house constantly, often just chasing her tail.  I don’t usually go for small dogs, but she is an absolute winner, so lively and good natured and never making a sound, except when she’s trodden on, which seems to happen quite often.


Surprisingly, the two dogs are very good with each other and they often play together, with never a cross bark.  The dogs are also extremely good with the children and show patience beyond the call of duty.  In Bill’s house, the idea seems to be to use the dogs for the washing up, rather than having to feed them, which often gets forgotten.  He believes that dogs shouldn’t be fed until they’ve earnt their food and so, when he does open the biscuits, he makes Rufus lie down whilst he crosses himself and says the benediction, “Nomine Canis, Felixis, Espirito Santo, Benedictus, Benedicti”.  The trouble now is that whenever Rufus sees the Pope on TV, he starts salivating.

 









Springtime in Victoria is beautiful, especially when the weather has been bright and sunny, as it has been for the last week and we’ve taken advantage of it by visiting several parks.  The first was nearby Playfair Park, where we took Rufus for a walk one evening.  The park was lovely, with many large, spreading Garry Oaks and masses of rhododendrons.  Rufus loved the chance to run free, picking up sticks and chasing imaginary rabbits.  Unfortunately for him, he’s never let free to run on the University of Victoria (UVic) campus grounds, where rabbits sit around on the grass everywhere.  It seems that they are breeding like crazy and will soon have to be culled.

Pretty as Playfair Park is, in my opinion it’s outdone by the nearby Finnerty Gardens. These gardens are owned and maintained by UVic, but are open to the public at all times.  The gardens are packed with rhododendrons and azaleas, which were in a perfect state of bloom when we were there.  As well as the flowers, there is a splendid array of trees, including Douglas-Fir, Maple, Cedar, Hemlock and many ornamental trees.  I’d never heard of the Hemlock tree, but it is a type of pine, not poisonous, despite its name.  The trees grow very tall and are virtually straight, soaring to the sky.

One day we decided to have fish for dinner and so Bill and I went down to Fisherman’s wharf to see what we could buy.  The wharf is on the Inner Harbour and is always interesting as there’s forever something happening, with small water taxis ferrying people backwards and forwards and seaplanes taking off for Vancouver and other nearby islands.  There’s also a cluster of houseboats, often decorated in an interesting, if rather twee, style and a range of boats from small dinghies to fancy yachts and large cruise ships.  Across the water, we could see Spinnaker’s, a large pub where we were to lunch the day before I left.











We were rather disappointed with the selection of fish at the quayside, or, more particularly, by the level of service, so we found another shop a short distance away that was more accommodating.  There we bought a frozen tuna, weighing in at about four pounds.  The shopkeeper cut it into steaks for us, leaving the head separate.  He said that it would make great crab bait, but Bill had other ideas and that night he decided to use it for stock.  He proceeded to boil the thing for hours, stinking the house out for days.  It reminded us both of when our Mum used to boil fish heads for the cat and Dad would always complain like hell.  Nevertheless, the steaks were delicious and there were plenty left over for the freezer.

On the subject of seafood, on another evening, Scott, a one-time professional chef, cooked us very tasty Dungeness crab for dinner at his and Jenny’s house.  We ate on their deck, overlooking the gardens, where we saw a wild deer standing on next door’s lawn.  Apparently the deer are a real problem, as they can jump over very high fences and eat anything new that is growing in the garden.

On the previous evening, Bill and I played poker with a group of his friends.  Much as we do at home, he has a regular poker school, although they only meet monthly, rather than once a week.  Like us, the host serves food, but always at 9:30pm sharp and, for some reason, not known even to themselves, always referred to as lunch.  The game is always dealer’s choice and they include a whole range of variants, most of which were new to me.  They only play for small stakes and it is very unusual for anyone to win or lose more than $20.  With so many new versions, I thought I might be taken to the cleaners, but they always explained each new game and I got confused only once, when I should have split the pot with Bill but, because of my mistake, lost the whole lot.  I ended up losing $3.30, which wasn’t bad for an excellent evening’s entertainment.  ‘Lucky cards’ Bill ended up as the biggest (only?) winner, pocketing $13.

If I get time, I'll post another blog, giving the details of each of the poker variants so that I have it available for future reference.

Towards the end of the week we took a ferry to the nearby Salt Spring Island.  This is only forty minutes away, but is quite different from Victoria.  It is quite hilly and has a very rural feel, being heavily forested and having narrow roads.  The island is only about three miles long, although it seems larger when you’re on it, probably because the narrow, windy roads make travelling slow.  There are about five thousand people living on the island, many in the only real town, named Ganges after the HMS Ganges, which landed there some time in the eighteenth century.  Whilst we there, we spent a couple of very pleasant hours at Beaver Point, which overlooks a large sound.  There’s not much of a beach, but it’s a lovely setting, with a rocky shore and a lot of washed up timber.  The children enjoyed playing in the rock-pools, where we found starfish, anemones and hermit crabs, as well as some small fish.

Yesterday, the day before my departure for Las Vegas, we went to Spinnaker’s pub for lunch.  It was a very enjoyable lunch, including some quite tasty IPA beer.  I was surprised to be told by the waitress that I could not have my burger cooked medium, as I’d requested.  Apparently, there have been a number of cases of salmonella poisoning from burgers and so it is now mandatory for them to be well-cooked.  Bill says that it is also common in the States, too.  It doesn’t exactly instil confidence in the kitchen, but it tasted fine and I’ve had no after effects. 

My stay here has now come to an end and I’m rather sad to be leaving.  But it was a very enjoyable trip and great to see my family again.  We’ve now arranged for Bill and Judy to stay with me in Portugal, in September, so it will good to see them again so soon.  The rest of the mob won’t be with them so who knows when I’ll next see them.

Vancouver (Days 57 and 58)

It was a long, hard slog from Kerikeri to Vancouver.  I left Mike and Blanche’s place at 7am for a four-hour drive to Auckland airport, in time to catch my flight to Vancouver, via Los Angeles, at 1:30pm.  I finally arrived in Vancouver an hour before I left New Zealand, but with a sixteen-hour time difference!  Thankfully, my old friend Rich was waiting for me at Vancouver airport and he promptly whisked me back to his place.

Rich and I were at Imperial College together way back in 1963, when we were good friends.  Although both he and his wife Barbara were at my wedding in 1969 (??), we lost touch with each other after our lives took totally separate paths.  Whilst I moved to Scandinavia, to Portugal and to a divorce, Rich and Barbara stayed together and migrated to Canada.  It wasn’t until about five years ago, when Rich was in England, that he made contact again and, as is so often in such cases, it was almost as though it had only been a few days since we had been drinking together.

That first day I did little apart from eat Barbara’s delicious food and sleep.  The following day, we walked along the south shore of English Bay to Spanish Banks, where there are lovely views across  to the North Shore Mountains, which include Cypress Mountain, home of the skateboarding events at the recent Winter Olympic Games.

For lunch, we met up with my brother Bill and his wife, Judy, at an Indian restaurant.  Although Rich remembered Bill quite well, my geriatric brother had no recollection of Rich at all, but pretty soon they were chatting like old friends.  After lunch there was just time for a quick trip to Queen Elizabeth Park before it was time to say goodbye to Rich and Barbara as Bill, Judy and I left for the ferry to Victoria, the next stage of my odyssey.

Lazing around in Kerikeri (day 46 to 56)

Kerikeri is a lovely little town (pop. c 5,000) in the north of the North Island of New Zealand, in the Bay of Islands.  I’ve been staying there with my old friends, Mike and Blanche.  They have a lovely house, set in about an acre of garden, well outside the town and near to the sea.  There’s been a serious water shortage here and until yesterday it hadn’t really rained for seven months, which is most unusual.  What a contrast with where I’d been in the South Island, where they have an average annual rainfall of something like eight metres!  

Treaty of Waitangi

Most of the time, I’ve just been lazing around, not really doing too much.  However, I have been out to visit something most days.  An interesting trip was to Waitangi.  This is where the white settlers signed an agreement with the Maori tribes in 1840.  There had been intermittent fighting between the British and the Maori since the late 18th century, when the British first arrived.  Some of the tribes were quite keen to join with the British, whereas others were most determined to retain their independence.  In true British fashion, the settlers provided some of the tribes with guns so that they could wipe out some of the more troublesome tribes.  In the end, they pretty much all agreed to go with the British, partly as they were promised protection from the French, who were increasingly coming to New Zealand, particularly in the south.

Since the early settlers brought few women with them, many set up homes with Maori wives and so the races soon became very mixed to the extent that now, few Maori can claim to have no white blood.  Although the Maori are generally the under-privileged class, many are well-educated and have important jobs.  My impression is that they are better integrated than ethnic minorities in other societies and, indeed, New Zealand makes much of its Maori heritage.  There are problems, however, and I was advised, for example, not to go to pubs in Maori districts on a Saturday night.  It seems that this sort of problem is on the increase.  

Much is being done to improve the lot of the Maori people and, in contrast with Australia, there is no concept of separate development or tribal settlements.  In general, there is a single education system and children of all races go to the same set of schools.  However, there are also Maori-only schools, the so-called Kura Kaupapa  (broadly speaking meaning doing everything in a Maori way).  In these schools, students are taught using so-called “kinaesthetic” methods, i.e. based primarily on things like touch, taste and smell, rather than the “scientific” methods used in western schools.  The Maori claim that their children better respond to such methods, but whether or not this is actually true seems a moot point.

The Maori are recipients of a number of state handouts and this does seem to cause resentment on the part of some Kiwis.  Indeed, since anyone with only a small proportion of Maori blood can claim to be a Maori, it is said that people with, perhaps, a single Maori great-grandmother, might claim to be Maori in order to obtain the benefits.  I have no idea how true this might be, but it smacks of ill-informed prejudice to me.

Back to Waitangi.  Captain William Hobson arrived in the Bay of Islands in January 1840 to sign the  treaty with the Maori chiefs, on behalf of the British Government.  Hundreds of Maori and scores of Europeans gathered in front of the Residency, the original British house in Waitangi, later known as the Treaty House.  The treaty was read and explained in both English and Maori and the chiefs debated all day and well into the night.  The following day, 6th February, 1840, 43 chiefs signed the Treaty in front of the Residency, at a spot now marked by a flagpole.  Copies of the Treaty were then carried round the country and by September that year over 500 chiefs had signed it, although Hobson had already proclaimed sovereignty over the country.

The Treaty itself is a very short document, containing just three articles.  In English, it easily fits onto a single A5 page.  Debate still continues over the interpretation of the Treaty, but it is best understood as a whole.  It is an agreement between two peoples to live and work together in one nation and it guarantees the rights of both Maori and non-Maori citizens throughout New Zealand.  At least, that is the official blurb.  Reading the agreement, it does seem that the Maori are entitled to retain possession of the lands that they singly or collectively own, although there is provision for land to be sold to the Crown, at prices to be agreed between the two parties.  Somehow, ownership of nearly all the land was subsequently transferred to the immigrants and it is hard to believe that this was all the result of sales at fair prices.

Whatever the truth of the Treaty and its consequences, the Treaty Grounds are interesting to visit.  The Treaty House is still there in its original form, albeit with later extensions.  There is a large Maori meeting house (Te Whare Runanga), actually built for the Centenary Celebrations in 1940.  The house is made of wood and includes many and varied Maori carvings.

There is also a huge, intricately carved Waka (war canoe) built from three massive Kaori trees.  A minimum of 76 paddlers were needed to handle the canoe safely.

Finally, the setting itself is beautiful, with native bush giving way to open grounds leading down to the bay.  Elevated walkways through the bush furnish the visitor with glorious views of both the bush and the whole of the Treaty Grounds.

Kawakawa and its World Famous Toilet

One day Blanche and I drove down to Whangarei, the largest town in the area.  The town itself is not especially interesting, although it has an attractive marina where I ate a delicious lunch of New Zealand green mussels with pasta.

The town also boasts a clock museum with what must be one of the world's largest sundials.







On the way back, we stopped at the small town of Kawakawa (population 1,347 in the 2006 census).  The town has nothing to commend it, apart from its public toilets! 

In 1998 the Kawakawa Community Board was looking to upgrade its 40-year-old toilet facilities in the central township, and Friedensreich Hundertwasser, a well-known Austrian architect and painter who had settled in the Bay of Islands, offered a solution in his own inimical style.  His concept was adopted and construction was completed the same year, the artist personally lending a hand in construction, including the provision of materials from his own studio.  It is said that he became more involved in construction of the toilets than he had been in the building of the world-renowned Hundertwasser House apartments in Vienna.  The toilets feature salvaged tiles, glass bottles and a living roof, covered in grass.

Perhaps not to everyone’s taste, the toilets have put Kawakawa on the map and made it something of a Mecca for lovers of Hundertwasser’s art.  Although I wasn’t overwhelmed by the toilets, clean though they were, I did end up buying prints of a couple of his paintings from the shop opposite.

Fishing in the Inlet

One afternoon Mike and I took a boat out on one of the local inlets, in an attempt to catch fish.  The boat belonged to Mike’s near neighbour, Bob, an Australian who, amazingly, had been at Imperial College at the same time as me, only he studied Physics, not Maths.  Using just squid as bait, I’m glad to report that we had a little success.  I caught three snapper, the largest weighing about three pounds, together with another fish which, having consulted a book, Mike reckoned to be a young king fish, but I’m not convinced.   Whatever they were, they were delicious eaten later that night.

Our second attempt at fishing, in Mike’s own dinghy, was less successful, resulting in just a single fish, which wasn’t even large enough to take home.  What was particularly galling, was that in the meantime Bob had told us of how he’d been out the previous evening and found a place where he kept reeling in large kingfish, three feet long or more.  He now has a freezer packed full of enough fish to last him through the summer!

Selling Forests

Mike works as a real estate agent, selling farms and forests in the Northland area.  One day, he had to inspect some new forests that he and his partner Rex were hoping to take on their books.  I went with them to look over the prospects.  It was quite a long drive to the first property, which was right  on the west side of the country.  The drive over there was very pretty.  New Zealand really is a lovely country visually.  The forest was a bit tricky to find, but eventually we figured we had the right place and went exploring.  It was a pine forest of some 250 hectares, about ten years old.  We walked deep into the forest for a couple of hours or so and, although there was nothing particularly special about it, I did learn quite a bit about forestry from Mike and Rex.  They do have a potential buyer, a Chinese company which is looking to buy a lot of timber properties in New Zealand. 

We stopped by the second forest on the way back, but it was rather inaccessible and so we never managed to get into it.  In fact, we weren’t even sure that we were looking at the right place.  Mike is hoping to persuade the Chinese that they should charter a helicopter so that they can more easily visit both forests.  Let’s hope he and Rex are successful in completing a sale.

Concluding My Visit to Kerikeri

Blanche took me to a number of other places, whose names now escape me, but including a small seaside town where we had fish and chips for lunch, overlooking the sea.  They had oysters on the menu and so I thought I ought to try them.  I was a bit disappointed, to say the least, to find that they came deep-fried in batter and were rather mushy.  Who on earth would fry oysters in batter?  The fish, however, was delicious.

I had a great time in and around Kerikeri.  It’s a lovely part of the world, with beautiful scenery everywhere, but mostly I enjoyed meeting up again with my old friends, Mike and Blanche, whom I’d not seen for years.  I thank them most heartily for their hospitality and only hope that we meet up again before too long.  I’d certainly like to go back to New Zealand someday.

On to Rotorua (days 44 and 45)

After leaving the ferry at Wellington, I drove north as far as Taihape, some 200k out of Wellington.  The weather was absolutely atrocious for the first 100k.  It was raining so hard that the wipers couldn’t really cope. Coupled with the rain flooding on the road and the fact that I hit the Wellington rush hour, driving was most unpleasant.  However, I wanted to push on so that I could cover both Rotorua and the Glow Worm Caves at Waitomo the following day, before finally driving right up to the north, to meet up with Mike and Blanche.

I really enjoyed the stop at Rotorua, seeing the geysers and the mud pools. But mostly it was the Maori guide who made it so interesting.   He was a rather well-built chap, in his thirties, with some sort of comb in his hair.  Not only was he very intelligent and most articulate, but he also had a particularly engaging manner, with a gentle sense of humour.  In the hour and half we were with him, he told us a lot about Maori history, culture and customs and I only wish I could remember it all. For what it’s worth, here are a few of the things he told us that I can remember:

• Maori measure time in generations and they are not too sure how to translate one generation into years.
• Each Maori can trace his ancestors on both the male and female side, right back to the time of first settling in New Zealand, but only father of father of father etc. and mother of mother of mother etc.
• Depending on the number of years allocated to a generation, this means that the Maori first colonised New Zealand somewhere between 1,000 and 1,500 years ago.
• The Maori originally came from the Polynesian Islands (Tonga, Samoa, etc.) and they can still more or less understand each other’s language.
• When Maori are born, they usually have a blue marks on their lower back, which disappear after some weeks.   Apparently this is caused by a dominant gene, which is also shared with Polynesians, Japanese, Mongolians, ethnic Tawainese (but not the Chinese settlers) and some Indians.
• Many aspects of their culture appear to be taken from places as disparate as Chile, Peru, Egypt and even Greece.  This includes things such as patterns used for tattoos.
• There was no written Maori language and the early western colonisers transcribed the Maori language phonetically, but not getting the split into words correctly.  All Maori words end in a vowel, but the missionaries wrote down a whole bunch of words as a single word, much like a Welsh station name.
• Ownership of things is not so important to Maori, but they do have an interesting concept of‘mine’ or ‘ours’.  They use two separate words, one reflecting things that are smaller than or are controlled by the owner, the other reflecting things that are larger or controlling.   These ideas can be applied to all objects and we were tested on which form to use for a variety of things.  For example, a nephew is ‘owned by’ someone since he is junior to the uncle, in a generational sense, even though he may be larger in size (or even older).
• As I understood it, Maori do not believe in a God or Gods in the quite the same way as other cultures. They do believe in heaven, or rather a succession of heavens, at different levels, but they don’t prey to a God nor leave offerings or sacrifices.
• In New Zealand, all races are supposed to go through the same school system (although, listening to a debate in Parliament today, one member was suggesting that less money should be spent on so-called Maori schools).
• Maori traditions and legends are passed down through the generations, with art being used to provide memory aids.  A Maori picture or sculpture will include all the essential elements of the story to which it relates Thus the art would have little relevance without knowledge of the underling story, but does provide a very good aide memoire.
• According to our guide, the real difference in education is between ‘scientific’ (i.e. western) and ‘kinesthetic’ (i.e. Maori) teaching methods, the latter relating to learning by touch.

I’d been warned that the sulphurous smell was overpowering, but I really didn’t find it to be too bad.  When we were standing by the meeting point, I thought it was the toilets I could smell. As I went round the site, I caught the normal sulphurous smell, but also the toilet smell again, so I’m not really sure what was what, but none of it was really that overpowering.

I was at the Te Puia site, New Zealand's premier Maori cultural centre.  The whole site is situated in the middle of a volcano crater and includes two large geysers, the Prince of Wales (sic) and Pohutu.   I presume that the first geyser must have been named after the Prince, followingn a visit there, but it is unusual in that nearly all towns and places, other than the large towns and cities, have Maori names.  The Pohutu geyser is the larger and spouts up to thirty metres, although it wasn't that high when I was there.  The geysers are caused by underground river water building up above the heated rocks and suddenly breaking out in a mass of sulphurous steam.

In contrast, the mud pools are where subterranean gas percolates through the mud, heating it as it goes and making lots of little bubbles.   Apparently, the mud pools are at their most impressive immediately after heavy rain, once the mud has been smoothed over.

The Waikomo Glow Worm caves were interesting, but quite different.  I’d recently seen caves in Vietnam and Cambodia and not been at all impressed.  These were unlike anything I’d seen before. Firstly, they were quite large and included a lot of stalactites and stalagmites.  More importantly, the glow worms were really impressive.  They hang above the underground rivers, particularly where they feed off insects, such as mosquitoes.   They emit light when they’re in the larva stage, which lasts about nine months.  That’s when they’re active and build little nests hanging from the roof. They then drop a thin, sticky thread, much like a spider’s web, that is used to catch unsuspecting inspects that have been attracted to the light.

The pupa stage lasts about two months and when they emerge from the cocoon, they look much like mosquitoes, but without mouths.  They only last for four days and in that time have to find a mate. The female lays up to a hundred eggs, which then subsequently become larvae and so the cycle repeats.

When underground, it is surprising how much light the glow worms emit, and, with all torches switched off, they provide enough light to see most of what’s happening in the caves.  They are especially impressive when viewed from beneath, when all you can see is a mass of light points, each one being generated by a single glow worm.

I ended that day driving as far north as I could, but finally giving in at Te Awamutu, some way south of Hamilton.  The motel was not great, but I spent an hour trying to find anywhere that had vacancies. It seems that all the local motels were pretty much fully booked, largely by people who are working here on contract.

I ate dinner (very cheaply) in a local pub, served by a Maori guy who sounded incredibly gay. Is this common in Maori communities?  I didn’t like to ask him straight out, but I did make several comments about women, none of which invoked any sort of ‘normal’ response, so maybe I was right.

I’d hoped to eat n the restaurant which was attached to the pub, but it had been taken over by the Rotary Club (so like England).  Instead, I ate in the main bar, which turned out to be a good choice as I was frequently met by guys coming in from the outside patio, where there were several groups of workers drinking and becoming increasingly vocal.  This included some people from the UK and Ireland who’d come over to work with the harvest in the summer.

One thing that surprised me was the poster for the Kihikihi Rodeo, which apparently happens every year.   I didn’t know that Kiwis were into Rodeo, but apparently they are.  The barman even said that his nephew had recently represented New Zealand in some international competition in Australia.

Nelson (day 43)

I drove up to Nelson from Franz Joseph yesterday. It was a pretty uneventul trip, although there were still quite a few showers. I think I got out of Southland and Fjordland just in time, though, as today there are reports of the worst floods they've had in ten years.

Today, I drove up to the north of South Island to Abel Tasman National Park and Golden Bay. My plan had been to go hiking in the park, but the weather was so poor that I thought it more prudent to stay in the car. When I got to Golden Bay, the visibilty was so bad that I turned round and went straight back to my hotel. Actually, I have a whole apartment, including living/dining room and kitchen and so I've been able to eat in for once. It turns out that the money I save on dinner and breakfast more than pays for the extra cost of the room.

No pictures today, but I have started to add in slideshows of all relevant pictures to my blog postings. I've gone back to my first day in New Zealand and, if I get any spare time, I might go back to Indochina, as well.

Anzac Day (day 42)

Anzac Day is when the Kiwis and Aussies commemorate their lost in Gallipoli, 95 years ago.  To quote from the NZ Government Guide Website:

"For nine months in 1915, British and French forces battled the Ottoman Empire - modern Turkey - for control of the Gallipoli peninsula, a small finger of Europe jutting into the Aegean Sea that dominates a strategic waterway, the Dardanelles. By opening the Dardanelles to their fleets, the Allies hoped to threaten the Ottoman capital, Constantinople (now Istanbul) and knock the Turks out of the war.

Among the British forces were the Anzacs - the Australia and New Zealand Army Corps - who landed on the peninsula on 25 April. The landing, like the Gallipoli campaign itself, was ambitious and ultimately unsuccessful: the peninsula remained in its defenders' hands.

The campaign was a costly failure for the Allies: 44,000 British and French soldiers died, including over 8,700 Australians. Among the dead were 2,721 New Zealanders - roughly one-quarter of those who fought on Gallipoli. Victory came at a high price for the Turks: 87,000 men died in the campaign which became a defining moment in Turkish history.

The Gallipoli campaign was a relatively minor part of the First World War (1914-18), but it has great significance for New Zealand's history and it has become an important symbol of its national identity.  The campaign was the first time that New Zealand stepped on to the world stage, and the New Zealanders made a name for themselves fighting hard, against the odds, in an inhospitable environment.

New Zealand marks the anniversary of the Gallipoli landings each year on Anzac Day - 25 April - remembering not only those who died there, but all who have served the country in times of war. The Gallipoli battlefields are now part of the 33,000 hectare Gallipoli Peninsula Historical National Park, or the Peace Park."

Anzac Day is clearly very important to the Kiwis.  As stated above, they lost 2,271 men, which sounds very few compared with the number the British or French who died, but in proportion to the size of the country was significant.  I was surprised to see that nowadays, on Anzac Day, 95 years after the Gallipoli landings, the Kiwis nearly all wear poppies, just as we do on Remembrance Day.  But somehow it seems more important to them.  I was in a small town on the way up to Nelson and, whilst having coffee, the whole town was waiting for the church service to end and the procession to begin.  I was similarly struck on the previous day in the tiny beach side town of Okarito.  This town sported a large war memorial, yet the town seemed to have no more than thirty or so houses.  The mystery was solved when I subsequently discovered that the town had previously had a population of 14,000, when it supported the gold mining community in the region, over a century ago.

What did piss me off a bit is that the restaurants all charge a surcharge of 15 to 20 percent for serving food on Anzac Day.  This actually applies on all public holidays, not just Anzac Day, and is to cover the additional staff costs on public holidays.  I’ve never known any other country to do this.

Enough of the rambling.  Today I drove up from Franz Joseph Glacier to Nelson, some 400km.  For the trip to Greymouth, I had two girls for company, a Mexican and a Russian.  Soon after I dropped them of at Greymouth, I picked up an interesting German couple who were hitch-hiking to Golden Bay and who were spending five months in New Zealand.  She was an English teacher and spoke almost perfect English.  He was a sports instructor by profession, but a rock climber by nature.  I dropped them off some way short of Nelson.

When I got to my hotel, I found that out that I had a whole apartment, bedroom, bathroom, living/dining room and kitchen, just for me.  Since I didn't want to drink and drive, I ate dinner in the on-site restaurant, The Orangery.  The food was actually rather good, especially the King Fish on a base of risotto, which I subsequently found out, on questioning the chef, to be flavoured with beetroot, onion, apple, cumin and vinegar. 

I was a bit pissed off with the pretension of it all.  "Do you have a reservation, Sir?" when the restaurant was half empty and almost completely deserted by the time I left.  I decided to make a list of the ten things I least like about restaurants and here it is, in reverse order.

10    Restaurants that serve red wine (or worse still port) chilled.
9    Seats that are too low.
8    Background music where the vocals are second-hand copies of the original.
7    Pretentious descriptions for food, as in “A skin-bound melange of ground pork, herbs and spices, nestling against a background of home-creamed potatoes”, instead of “bangers and mash”.
6    Waiters who insist on pouring the wine.
5    Waitresses who say “Not a problem” (or even worse, "No worries") as in “How is your food?”, “Very nice, thank you”, “Not a problem”.  Or even worse, as happened tonight: “Is everything still going all right?”, “Yes, thank you”, “Not a problem”.
4    People who let their mobile phones ring in restaurants.
3    Amuse bouches, that don’t.
2    People who answer their mobile phones in restaurants.
1    Germans.

I asked the waitress, in the nicest possible way, of course, why she always said ”Not a problem” and she really had no idea.  It’s just the way she talks.  Much like supermarket checkout girls used to say “Have a nice day”.  It seems to me it’s just a fad, the way Queenslanders always used to end each sentence with an upwards inflexion, as if it were a question.  But this seems to have gone out of fashion, at least judging from the Queenslanders I’ve met recently.

In my list of things that I don’t like about restaurants, I should have added waitresses who bring me the bill before I’ve asked for it.  It’s like they just can’t wait to get rid of you.  This time I had the last laugh on them, though.  After they’d brought the bill, I ordered a coffee and they forgot to add it to the bill.  Yeah.

When I left, I thought I’d wind up the waitress a bit more, so, when I paid the bill, I said “You don’t know who I am, do you?”  She suddenly looked really interested and said “No.o..o, who are you?”  I said “My name’s on the card”.  I should have added “I don’t know you either”, to make it clear to her what was happening, but I left her wondering.  What a sick bastard I am.

Tomorrow I’m off to the north of the South Island, to Golden Bay, in fact.  It’s supposed to be really beautiful, so watch this space for an update.