Notes From Kiwi Land
Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.
Where we are: We’re on the North Island of New Zealand, still wandering around looking at the scenery, hiking, and enjoying the ease of this beautiful country.
Notes From Kiwi Land
The Māori word for New Zealand is Aotearoa. A great deal of signage is bilingual—English and Māori.
People are insanely nice. INSANELY. Every Kiwi we encounter makes pleasant chit-chat, from the barista to the ticket sales person to the bus driver. It’s like they’re the world’s nicest people, and every single one is a curious extrovert. When you’re out for a walk, everyone says hello. The most harried, harassed, overworked cashier wants to know how you’re doing, where you’re from, how long you’re staying.
There appear to be more tourists than locals—every hotel we’ve been in has been completely full. There are ‘No Vacancy’ signs everywhere.
The labor shortage is severe—the worst we’ve seen. Outside of the major cities, it’s pretty much impossible to get a sit-down restaurant meal. Most places have pivoted to ready-made sandwiches and pies, as well as reduced hours and fewer open days. The most surprising solution I’ve witnessed was in a grocery store, where the cashier was a young boy—old enough to understand the cash register, but too young for facial hair. Put the young ‘uns to work, that’s what I say.
Perusing over-the-counter offerings in a pharmacy, I noticed deworming medication, for intestinal threadworms. I don’t know what intestinal threadworms are, & I don’t want to know, so don’t tell me. I also don’t want to know why the remedy is available in a normal human pharmacy here.
Like Africa, this is a holiday destination that makes tourists think they need to gear up with special clothes & equipment. I am walking around in my purple linen shorts, in a sea of yoga clothes and beige hiking pants.
There is a tremendous amount of shoreline—what we’d think of as prime waterfront real estate—that is used for grazing livestock. Lee is deeply confused by this fact. I reckon there are just lots of things in this world that don’t fit into our models of how the world works.
It’s a very self-service kind of culture, and I suspect it predates the labor shortage. In restaurants, you order at the counter, seat yourself, then pay at the counter when you’re done. We checked into one hotel where the check-in procedure was “You’re in room 2. Key’s in the door.”
‘Cheese roll’ is a ubiquitous alternative to meat pies (which seem to be the national food). Cheese roll is a slice of brown loaf bread, rolled up around some cheese and broiled. It’s not particularly filling—think grilled cheese sandwich, but with only one slice of bread. On the bright side, it’s available anywhere, any time.
‘Caramel slice,’ on the other hand, is very filling, and even more delicious, and somewhat compensates for the sadness of cheese roll for lunch.
We’ve been warned repeatedly that recent flooding has closed a lot of roads on the North Island, but thus far on the South Island, the roads are excellent and driving is a pleasure. At least, I’m enjoying it. Of course I’m just the passenger …
Speaking of roads, I’ve never seen so much road kill. Luckily it’s all small animals, most of which are invasive species, so no one seems terribly worked up about it.
Everything works, which I don’t ever take for granted. It’s nice to be able to trust that the roads are well-engineered, the pilots know what they’re doing, the construction standards are high, and the ski lift probably gets regular safety inspections.
Cash is unnecessary; we didn’t even get any until our tenth day in the country, and that was only for the bus in Christchurch. Otherwise, we’ve been able to tap with our phones to pay almost everywhere. I love, love, love the convenience of not having to dig out a card.
There is an egg shortage, but it is entirely unrelated to the shortage Americans recently experienced. A law was passed a few months ago banning cage farming of chickens, and converting to all barn or free-range is taking some time.
The hot water is hot. I’ve been in public restrooms that have only hot water, and it has scalded my hands. They’re not messing around with those maximum limits on the water heaters here.
There are red-fleshed kiwi fruits. I never knew there was such a thing.
Everything is in English. I know that should go without saying, but I’m actually having a little trouble remembering that I can read the signs, even when they’re right in front of me. I went to do laundry one day, and it took me several minutes of staring at the instructions before my brain processed that I understood them. That may make me sound dumber than I am.
Glow worms are magic—pixie dust and starlight and fairy twinkles. That is all.
Take care,
Lisa
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