http://blakeley.com/blogofile Performance, scalability, databases, and whatever comes up. Fri, 07 Jul 2023 19:44:55 GMT Blogofile hourly 1 http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/199 Fri, 12 May 2006 23:06:10 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/199 Right on My Way Home
On the way back to Taupo, I notice some beautiful scenery - and maybe some logging debris? By mid-afternoon, I'm back at the lake.



What now? I need a hotel for the night, but I don't feel like looking for one yet. There's a sign for Waikato Falls: let's go see what that looks like.



Hmm... more of a rapids, really. It's nice, but I've seen a larger one, somewhere, haven't I? Oh well - there's still daylight. Let's go look at some volcanic activity! Everyone says to visit Rotorua for volcanic activity, not Lake Taupo, but I'm stubborn. I think I already mentioned that Lake Taupo was formed by a giant volcanic explosion, and there are still lots of reminders in the area. You can drive along the highway and see plumes of steam rising in the middle of a sheep pasture. I suppose it keeps the sheep warm.

Just across the road from the Waikato Falls overlook is a narrow lane leading to the Craters of the Moon, run by the NZ government. Most of the volcanic areas seem to be private.

Nice fumaroles - it's a shame about the trash. I suppose a private park might pick some of that up, but then again maybe not. At least there's a wooden footbridge. But there isn't much else: the vulcanism consists mainly of holes in the ground, with steam rising up. The steam carries minerals, I suppose, and also harbors some interesting flora. Hey, there's a fantail! That's probably the best picture of a fantail that I have: they're too fidgety. Ah, it's good to see that Americans aren't the only ones with bad taste.



The sun is setting, so it's time to find that hotel.

]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/222 Fri, 12 May 2006 22:34:48 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/222 Age of the Blisters


Have you noticed a faint PG Wodehouse theme in this trip? New Zealand feels very much like the English countryside does, and it's difficult to avoid musing on Threepwoods and Finknottles, as one carooms along the wrong side of the country lanes. Unfortunately, while I suspect that Bertie's food was often fouler, I also suspect that he got to drink better beer.

Napier, though, fits right into Aunt Agatha's Age of the Blisters. An earthquake in 1931 destroyed the colonial British town, and it was rebuilt almost entirely in the Art Deco style. I'm a little late for the February festival, but happily they don't put the buildings away during the winter - only the people disappear. It's a little less ghostly that last night, but I still can't help feeling that this isn't the social hotspot of New Zealand.

Shrugging off my malaise, I stroll up to the central square and start the self-guided "art deco walk". There seem to be a lot of buildings that I'd like to photograph: out of at least 100, I'll cull a few specimens.



Have you noticed the awful awnings, yet? They're nice when it rains, and probably nice when it's sunny too, but they make it almost impossible to look at the buildings - unless you're on the opposite side of the street.



On a more positive note, observe the streetlamps. They buried all the power and phone lines after the earthquake, so there weren't any poles to hang lights off of - nor any poles for street signs.



The seafront itself reminds me of the Palace of Fine Arts. Well it would, wouldn't it? Plus, there's mini-golf! There's a fine line between art deco and kitsch, but to my keen eye the distinction is clear. You're probably sick of art deco by now, but there's an interesting bank that mixes in Maori motifs.

And so I bid a fond farewell to Napier, the Art Deco City (TM). Note the kiwi on the city arms.





Now that the weather is nicer, maybe I can get back to Taupo by noon.

]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/211 Thu, 11 May 2006 23:28:44 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/211 When it Rains, it Pours
I reach Taupo around lunch time, but the rain is still bucketing down. The storm drains remind me of Foster City, but these are more stylish.

Taupo sounds like Tahoe, and that's no accident. They're both mountain lakes, but Taupo is the result of a gargantuan volcanic explosion, not so terribly long ago. So it's like Crater Lake in Oregon, only much bigger. From the air, it looks like africa.

After a tolerable pinot noir and a bite of fresh fish, I decide that the weather might be better in Napier. So I continue on the highway, south-east. There are some semis sharing the road, so I pull off frequently to take pictures. There's a pretty little waterfall coming down from the lake. You don't think it's so little? Visit Iguazu.



Driving on, the sun comes out. I stop to take pictures of sheep, grapes, and bait. Look, I've never seen a BP station selling bait before. The girl behind the counter seems pretty insecure about: I half-expect her to try to confiscate the camera.

I arrive in Napier as the sun sets.



Have I mentioned why I'm in Napier? Besides the restraining order, barring me from Wellington? No? I guess you'll have to wait until tomorrow. It's on Hawke's Bay, which looks quite a bit like Monterey to me, but that isn't the reason. I check into the Bella Vista motel: it's a local chain. The price is a new high at NZ$110, but that's still cheap for the US, and it comes with internet access. Ah, this is why I brought the Airport Express: there's nothing like wifi in a tiny motel room. So I check email and post, before going out for a beer. Napier seems to be deserted tonight, but there are rednecks - excuse me - fishermen at the Thirsty Dog (no pictures). On the way there, a love-lorn local accosts me to ask "why do they do it?". This is deep philosophy: there are, perhaps, as many answers as there are people. I tell him that, and advise another beer.

I get a pizza from a local chain called Hell, and an illegal bottle of Argentinian Malbec. This is possibly the worst meal I've had in New Zealand, but it's still pretty good. And if I'm bored, there's always tango. No, really.

]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/198 Thu, 11 May 2006 19:02:37 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/198 Hate Among the Kiwis Otorohanga Kiwi House (and native bird park). These friendly folks maintain kiwis in an indoor environment, which swaps day for night so that the (nocturnal) kiwis are awake at the same time we are.

I'd like to see a kiwi, but staying up late for a nature walk sounds like a lot of work, and there's no guarantee that you'll actually see any kiwis. Given my track record of seeing bears in Yosemite, the Kiwi House sounded like my best shot.

I'm doing my best to hang onto my jet lag, but it's slowly slipping away. By now, getting up at 06:30 is a little harder, but still feels like getting up around 10:00. This gives me plenty of time to pack up and get out of the motel by 09:00, when the kiwi house opens.

In fact, I get there at 08:30. The rain is pouring down, so I read the Lonely Planet guide in the car, trying to decide if I want to spend tonight in Taupo, or push on to Napier (the Art Deco City). I have to pass through Taupo either way, so I decide to stop there for lunch, and decide then.

The rain doesn't stop, but the kiwi house opens on time, and I wander in. The first room is the kiwi room: it's dark, but after a while my eyes adjust and it looks more like a moonlit night. There's a large glassed-off enclosure for the kiwis, and an L-shaped corridor around it. The kiwi area is separated in half by a fence with netting, and I start to see kiwis.

There are two in the room: Atu, a great spotted kiwi, and Rod Stewart, a northern brown kiwi.



Kiwis are pretty big - about the size and weight of a small house-cat. So you'd think they'd be easy enough to photograph. I knew the darkness would be a problem, and naturally the Kiwi House doesn't allow flash photography. But they are fast - on foot or standing still. In the second picture below, you can see Atu's beak in three different places at once. The camera's EXIF data shows that happening within a 0.320-second exposure, if I'm reading it correctly.

I quickly find out why the netting is in place: it seems kiwis are territorial, and when Atu and Rod get close to the fence at the same time, Atu attacks. Kiwi fight!

Rod is supposed to be blind, and didn't seem to know that Atu was there, or what was happening to him. But he didn't really stay away from the fence, either. There's no real blood: Atu just pokes Rod with her beak, whenever he's in range.

The kiwi fight is fun, but after a while I move on to look at the geckos. These are also nocturnal. Here's a leopard gecko, and another gecko whose name I didn't catch.



The Kiwi House also takes in injured birds, and keeps them or returns them to the wild, if possible. The rain was still coming down, so most of the birds had enough sense to stay dry. I saw some falcons, and a harrier, but they wouldn't come out for pictures. Here's an owl with OCD, though.

They also labelled all the native plants in the preserve. Here's how big a kauri tree gets in about 34 years.



The only animals you can really rely on, in the rain, are the ducks.



There are some oystercatchers, a spur-winged plover, and lots of birds that I don't see the names of. Sorry.

In the walk-in aviary, I hear some tuis or bellbirds, but all I see are some red-crowned parakeets. Maybe the green one is the female?

The rain is still coming down as I finish with the Kiwi House. As I start the drive north-west, I follow a sign pointing to Cambridge, which allows me to avoid Hamilton. From Cambridge I drive south-east again, and start to see more signs of autumn.

]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/149 Wed, 10 May 2006 12:01:23 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/149 Dilmah Again?


But what would a walk among the kauri be, without a wooden footbridge? Oh wait, there's something blocking the path. I hesitate to say anything bad about the NZ-DOC, so I'll assume that this is perfectly safe. Coming around the corner, I see Tane Mahuta. He's big. He's old. He's suffered some damage through the years.

After paying my respects, I climb into the Rattletrap and head north again. It's been a long day, and I have at least another hour of driving before I reach Opononi, where I'm spending the night.

Opononi and Omapere are two beach towns on the Hokianga harbor. They run together, more or less, and the Lonely Planet lists both together with the subheading "population 630". I believe that could be stretching the truth a bit: I never saw more than 63 locals. However, they're lucky folks: it's a beautiful spot on the map.



I stopped at the Opononi Lighthouse Motel (NZ$90). The charming ladies who run the place had refurbished it to modern standards, but kept the 1950s kitsch.

The view from the back was also pleasant, and the tea was Dilmah, of course. I'm beginning to suspect a trend: is this really New Zealand, or have I wandered off to Sri Lanka?



The day ended with a beautiful sunset, and I walked up the road to dine at a nearby hotel (seafood and coconut-milk curry, with a nice gewurztraminer). There wasn't much nightlife, so I woke early the next morning and found that the harbor was even prettier than yesterday.





So what's next? I haven't made any plans yet, but there's nothing else north of Auckland that really interests me. So I start driving south again, taking a few pictures along the way. At one point I stop to stretch my legs, and discover that the goat's got loose again.

As I wave goodbye to the last roadside kauri tree, I stop for gas and casually dump about a liter on my fleece jacket. The NZ petrol stations don't use vapor recovery nozzles, so it's easy to start the pump without getting the nozzle firmly into the tank. And for the rest of the trip, my jacket will smell like 91 octane unleaded.

After that, I enter Auckland traffic and get stuck for about an hour, working my way south toward Hamilton, where I stop for a late lunch. I decide that I can reach Otorohanga tonight, see the kiwi house in the morning, and then go on to Waitomo, Taupo, or Napier as the mood takes me.

I reach Otorohanga around 16:30, and check into the Palm Court Motel (NZ$85). It isn't as nice as the Lighthouse was, but it'll do. The sink is large, so I soak and rinse and soak and rinse my stinky fleece jacket. It doesn't help.

So I leave everything to dry, and go to the Thirsty Weta for a great peppercorn steak. I also pick up some yoghurt at the woolworth's, for breakfast: there's dilmah (again!) at the Palm Court, and the local yoghurt is mouth-puckeringly tasty.

]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/128 Wed, 10 May 2006 11:34:47 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/128 How to Recognize Kauri Trees from Quite a Long Way Away
Oh wait - that's just a Cal Tjader recording called "Soul Sauce". I have four or five CDs with me, as part of my regular travel kit, and my trusty Nissan Rattletrap has a CD player. I believe that this model is sold as the "Hamsterwheel" in the USA.



Yep... traveling as much as I do is worth it for the perks. Why, when I told the Hertz agent in Auckland that I was a "Gold" member with "#1 Club" status, he replied "Do what?".

The Rattletrap is an automatic, with a lusty 1.8L engine. Apparently they rent stick-shifts here, but I thought it would be wise to spare the much-troubled inhabitants of New Zealand the double scourge of having me on the proper side of their roads (mostly) while also trying to shift with my left hand. We'll save that for the next trip.

Anyhow, my Rattletrap and I are at the scenic vista above the Waipoua kauri forest. This area has been a forest sanctuary since 1952, when the NZ logging industry ran out of easily-felled kauri and into the brick wall of public opinion. That's a good thing: the logging industry in the US can barely manage to sustain weeds like cottonwood, plus various pines and firs, much less slow-growing ancients like redwoods or kauri.

Speaking of kauri, have we seen any yet? I have a vague idea of what the wood looks like, but are they those piney looking things over there? Or what?

Luckily, someone's planted a memorial tree at the scenic vista, and the plaque says it's a kauri. That's good enough for me.



Does that help? I climb up into the lookout tower to try and spot more kauri. Didn't Shannon used to live in one of these towers?

We're very close to the west coast of the North Island, so we can see the ocean from here. I know we're looking west, because the sign says so. Or maybe it's just graffiti?

Back on the road, I realize that there's been a mistake. I'm actually in the California gold country, just outside Murphys. Ignore that fern growing in the red dirt.



Next stop is the Waipoua visitor center. They're fresh out of brochures, but they're willing to lend me a chainsaw. There's one under the counter in the kauri exhibit, just in case a tourist wants to try his hand at some amateur logging.



I demur, and drive onward. A few km to the north is a sign for "KAURI WALKS", so I turn left onto a gravel road, and park. There's a sign. It's gist is "That's a nice looking car you have there: it'd be a shame if something were to happen to it." I pay NZ$2 for that protection, and pull on my hiking boots, The trail map says that it's about 15 minutes to the Four Sisters, and another 15 minutes to Te Matua Ngahrer (gesundheit!). I later find out that they've timed this journey using a one-legged stoat.

After a few minutes walk through scrub brush, the forest begins. It might be a mistake to call it a kauri forest... the predominant flora seems to be the ubiquitous silver fern. But there are kauri trees, too. In fact, there are many more kauri in this forest than there are giant sequoias in our California groves. Soon, I'm seeing kauri everywhere. Here are the Four Sisters: since kauri reproduce by dropping fertilized cones, this is bound to be a common phenomenon. The amazing thing is that these four siblings have lived so long without choking one another to death. Humans manage this by living apart.



Kauri foliage is fairly distinctive: it looks more like eucalyptus that pine, and it's the most effective way to spot kauri from a distance.



There's plenty of junk growing on a living kauri, but look at what happens once it dies! It's easy to see how swamp kauri happens.

Walking on, we glimpse Te Matua Ngahrer for the first time. It's big. It's really big. Who wants to check the vital statistics against our specimens of sequoia giganticus? Walking back to the car, I realize that there are kauri all around me. I can now recognize them close up, from the bark, and quite a long way away, from the foliage. They are immensely tall and have very straight trunks: I suppose a tall tree must start out very straight, or else it'll topple over when still very young. Back in the parking lot, I notice two things. First, the man who blackmailed me into paying him to watch my car is gone. And there are much stranger folk in the forest than I. Normally I don't make fun of other people's failings, but - oh, who am I kidding?

]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/119 Wed, 10 May 2006 10:37:35 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/119 I Speak for the Trees


By 09:00 I had checked out of the Spencer and was zooming northward on highway 1. It leaves Auckland as a motorway, or freeway, but quickly changes into a one-lane, barrier-less, barely-paved country road. It's a little worse than highway 4 through Bear Valley, CA. On the plus side, it's sunny now.



Shortly I turn off 1 and onto 12, bound for Dargaville and the east coast. I stop at the Kauri Museum in Matakohe. It's devoted to the kauri trees themselves, and to the history of logging and kauri-gum gathering in the area. The trees themselves are huge: very tall, very large around, and very long-lived. As in any tree museum, there are labelled tree rings. The wood is really pretty: I suppose it's callous to mention that, since the loggers nearly wiped out the living population of trees. But it turns out that the wood is incredibly durable, and people still make furniture and bowls from "swamp kauri", dug up out of the ground after 30,000 years or more.

There's a vertical cross-section of a kauri in a long hall, to give some perspective. Kauri are cone-bearers, and the cones look vaguely like pine-cones. Did I mention that you can make furniture out of the wood?

Kauri gum is something like amber, but not quite as nice. I looked for some jewelry-sized pieces, hoping to make a new earring, but all the pieces I saw were too big and clunky. The gum was used as varnish, which explains some of the luster of the wood. Apparently it made for a fairly flammable varnish, though, so there's no demand anymore.



The museum includes a large room of nothing but kauri gum. Really. And it's on display in kauri-wood cabinets, which look very handsome.

That was quite a lot of kauri in one place. I resisted buying any in the gift shop, though, and drove on to Dargaville. It didn't look like a good place to stop, so I spotted a mention of the "Funky Fish" in Baylys Beach: "People drive from Dargaville just to eat here." And why not?

They have a nice garden, a massive kauri-wood(?) table, and a friendly cat (who apparently smelled the funky fish from next door). I had the seafood chowder and a glass of viognier: the cat promised to be my best friend if I gave her some chowder, but all she got was a drop of viognier. She's too young to start on a life of chowder-fueled debauchery. That was a busy day, and I've only just had lunch. Stay tuned....

]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/98 Mon, 08 May 2006 22:18:46 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/98 Ausweis aus Auckland
The tasting took place at one of their homes, on a nice back deck overlooking a culvert. I didn't take any pictures, but it was fun. We had a blind sample of about twelve wines, and I did noticeably better this time around. I think it was just a question of parameters: when given a sample of unlabeled wine, I tend to think in terms of trick questions. Yes, this tastes like a nice Mosel Riesling, but what if it's really an atypical Semillon from Argentina? But it turns out that in this circle, at least, the questions are meant to be straightforward. That makes it much easier, but it's still tough to guess a vintage year for an Australian Shiraz.

After the tasting, I took a walk around the marshy area by the hotel. It gets fairly rural fairly quickly, but note the crane: a luxury high-rise apartment building is going up, next door.





Monday was the last day of class, and I plan to clear out of Auckland, Tuesday morning. I haven't fixed any real plans yet, but I'm going to start by driving north, to see the Kauri trees in the Waipoua forest preserve. Then I may head south: I'd like to see Napier, but I don't know if I'll have the time or energy to drive that far.

Monday night, Alastair Tagg came by for a drink and stayed for dinner. Here's a picture for Carolyn:



Finally, here are a couple pictures of the coffee bar on the ground floor of the Spencer Byron, just for Shelly. Note the actual books: I always wondered what hotels do when I leave spare books behind.

]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/37 Sat, 06 May 2006 20:10:06 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/37 Tiritiri Mantangi AM! This time I decide that it'll be quicker to take the bus, and with no traffic on a Saturday morning, the 08:05 bus has me there by 08:20.



The ferry leaves at 09:00: it's about half full, but it makes another stop at Gulf Harbor to pick up more passengers.



Arriving at Tiritiri Matangi after 10:00, there's an old takahe at the wharf to greet the tourists. He poses for pictures, and one of the reserve volunteers throws some grain on the ground so he won't wander away too quickly.



I take the guided walk, and we start along the coast. It quickly emerges that these people are birders. At first I decide that serious boredom is the worst possible outcome, but then they laugh at me for taking a picture of a tree full of English sparrows. What have I gotten into?



The island was inhabited by Maori, who probably hunted out several species, and introduced rats and dogs, which would have preyed on flightless birds. But it wasn't until the island was leased for farming that most of the damage was done. All but a tiny stand of forest was cut down, and the whole island was converted to grazing. Fifty years ago they stopped the farming, eradicated all the rats, and started re-planting native flora and re-introducing native fauna. It's a volunteer effort, though: they say they get very little money from the government.

The weather is great, and the views from the island are stunning. Along the beach, we come to some penguin boxes, but don't see any penguins. We do see the hole in the ground where another local bird lives, and make our way into the stand of old-growth forest. The largest trees here are what we call the New Zealand Christmas Tree. They'll grow anywhere, apparently, and can live over 1000 years.

Once in the old growth, we begin to hear, and then see, more local birds.



I had a hard time with the pictures: can you see a bird in either of these?



Me neither, but I suppose I thought I saw one when I took them. I used the Canon's "Kids and Pets" settings, since I couldn't find the "Tui that won't Sit Still" setting, or the "Fantails that Keep Flying Away" setting. Eventually, I even figured out how to turn off the flash, but I'm not sure if that helped. The guide mentioned that most of the bellbird's call is in the ultrasonic range: I suspect that the birds can hear the mechanisms inside the camera whirring, as it focuses, and they don't hang around to find out what happens next.

Mushrooms are easier: they can't hear, as far as I know, and they seem to like to have their picture taken. Tree ferns are good too: these are the silver fern, New Zealand's national symbol.



The easiest way to take decent pictures is to find a feeding station. These aren't really cages: there are holes to let the birds crawl in, but the larger tui birds can't bother them while they're feeding. We mostly saw bellbirds at the first few, but there were some stitchbirds later on. I also saw around 10 saddlebacks: they're supposed to be extremely rare, but the guide reckoned that there are about 200 on the island, now. Sadly they don't photograph well at all: they're dark, and they like to hang around on dark forest floors. I don't think this helps them much with cats, though.

After a while of this, we walk to the south end of the island and have lunch among the takahe.



There's a lighthouse: fine Plimco craftsmanship.



Then I wander around on my own. The trail system has it all over anything we saw in Argentina.

Another walk has three birdbaths and a feeder station. There are plaques for the local flora, too: I can't vouch for the flowers on this one, but I tend to agree about its dense growth.



The first two baths are empty, but if I were a bird I'd use this one. I wish my hot tub had this view.



The last bath has another feeder next door, and lots of customers.





After a while I lose interest in the birds, and take more pictures of the views. We're some distance from Auckland, but you can still squint at the Sky Tower on the horizon. To the east are the outlines of the Barrier Islands.





Here's the ferry: it's time to go back to Auckland. This Takahe posture means "you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." On the way back, I saw a couple of interesting boats in Gulf Harbor. The second one has on the road for a long time!



]]> http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/35 Fri, 05 May 2006 15:26:03 UTC http://blakeley.com/blogofile/archives/35 Location, location, location


Besides the views, there are a few other nice things about staying at the Spencer on Byron hotel. My first discovery was a nice little Sharp compact stereo, which has an RCA stereo aux input in back. I have an RCA-to-mini cable in my bag, so now my ipod is plugged in and can wake me up every morning. When it does, I can mainline high-grade caffeine without leaving the room: because of New Zealand's British history, there are tea things in the room. And because the manager of the hotel is Sri Lankan, the tea is Dilmah.



Finally, there's the location. It's around the corner from a good-sized business district, which makes the room's kitchenette perfect for take-out food. I have a better view from the room than most restaurants have, anyhow. So on Tuesday evening I spotted a canopy advertising "FINE WINE" and strolled a couple of blocks to discover what looks like one of Auckland's two best wine shops. It's called First Glass. I picked up a Hawke's Bay Viognier out of curiosity, and made a note to come back on Wednesday, for their weekly tasting. Then I walked a bit farther and got some excellent take-out Thai food: chicken laab, and a green curry with shrimp. The restaurant staff were definitely Thai, unlike most of the SF-area places. It was probably the most authentic Thai I've had since Hong Kong (or Hollywood, yes) - and it was great with the Viognier.



Speaking of geography, the hotel is on the North Shore, and the office for the class is even farther north, so I avoid most of the traffic. But it's in Takapuna, which seems to be a bus hub, so it's easy to get a bus into Devenport or Auckland. The North Shore office of Hertz is also around the corner, so I picked up a car on Wednesday. I'm not sure if it's really a net win over taking a taxi into the office every morning, but it does have the salutary effect of scaring me awake, every morning. The tired, end-of-day drive back to the hotel is probably even more dangerous.

I made it to the wine tasting on Wednesday evening. The man wasn't kidding: there were 75-100 people packed into a tiny wine shop, on folding chairs. The tasting was blind, but was very informal: it reminded me of a church raffle or a pub quiz night. Despite that, the quality of palate seemed very high. I'm not used to blind tastings, but I only recognized two of the twelve wines in an even vaguely correct way, while someone took every prize offered.

There was a nice-looking young woman sitting next to me, and taking very serious notes, but she was spitting and I wasn't. Definitely incompatible. I did manage to find out that she was taking a class somewhere, thus the serious note-taking. If it's a class, you aren't allowed to enjoy it.

Two curmudgeons and regulars, standing behind us, were a little more forthcoming. They were loudly complaining that they'd called out the right answers, and the manager had given the prize to someone else. One of the assistants kept missing their glasses in the pours, too - or maybe they were angling for double pours. Anyway I got into conversation with them, afterwards, and we went around to a pizza place with a couple of their favorite local bottles. The pizza was very Californian, but good, and the wines were excellent.



Thursday evening I finally went into Auckland's center (the central business district, or CBD). I took the bus to Devenport and the ferry across: at that time of day I'm not sure that it was faster or slower than the direct bus, but I like ferries. The Shakespeare on Albert Street brews their own beer in the heart of the city, so I tried that. Then I went to Vulcan Lane for another couple of stops, before deciding that Auckland was getting a little too blurry.



I'm starting to give up on NZ beers: they've been Sam Adams quality, at best. After getting such excellent cask-conditioned beer in New York, all year, that's disappointing. But there are several Belgian places, and I can always stick to the wine, so I can't complain. It's tempting to move here and open a place, if there's any market for it.

Friday, I made a reservation for Tiritiri Matangi. No, that isn't a character from the Jungle Book. It's an island set aside as a nature preserve. New Zealand has a lot of those, but this is one of the older ones, and non-scientists are allowed to visit. Apparently they'll even let me in.



]]>