Where am I?

I caught Dr Lonnie Smith's trio at the Jazz Standard. I recognized almost none of the songs - jazz organ has a way of doing that to me - but I enjoyed the show. Most of the tracks were from the new Jungle Soul CD: I should get a copy. I was especially impressed by Alison Miller's playing: she's an excellent drummer, and added a lot to the performance of Monk's Bemsha Swing (ok, I recognized that one). Anyway, a good time was had by all.

Over at Mark Logic we recently released a new PerformanceMeters tool, which can be handy for benchmark testing - and unit testing, too. I've written a short tutorial.

If you've tried to use my RecordLoader tool, you've probably noticed that it's lightly-documented and somewhat cryptic. This tutorial may help.

No, this post isn't about Wellington, or about my first steps on the South Island. I'm out of time, and I'm heading north again. There's no loop to make, so I drive back the way I came. This time I'd like to spend the night at Lake Taupo (not in Lake Taupo, thanks just the same). Then I'll drive all the way back to Auckland for an evening flight 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.

It's morning, and time to hit the Art Deco City (TM). Oh damn - wasn't I going to wait until you guessed that?



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.