Oysters with The Nukes

In addition to tourism, New Zealand's economy is largely reliant upon the export of food products.  Outside of national parks, the place is blanketed in rolling green pasture, rows of fruit and nut orchards, and hills zig-zagged with grapevine.  Very few food products are imported here and about 85% of food products produced in New Zealand are exported.

Sheep are the most abundant livestock, and the sight of a flock of the fluffy white, innocent looking creatures being mustered across a highway from one paddock to another is iconic in New Zealand.  It is common to see huge, two trailered trucks barreling down the highway, their sides puffed out with white wool of sheep being taken for shearing.  Most of the wool is so-called 'strong wool', which is used to make carpet and other heavy duty textiles, although there is also a significant amount of merino wool produced for clothing.

Despite the favorite image of the beloved sheep, dairy is king, economically speaking.  Fonterra, a dairy farming conglomerate, is New Zealand's largest company.  Kiwis end up shipping milk powder and finished dairy products to Australia, China and Japan by the megaton.  Of course, dairy farming in particular produces outrageous amounts of waste, which makes the growth of the dairy industry here controversial.  Runoff from dairy farms is blamed for a number of environmental woes, especially dirtying of ground and river water.

Ironically, it seems that the prosperity of the dairy industry may be damaging another of New Zealand's traditionally booming industries - seafood.  As you might imagine, dairy farming requires quite a lot of water, some of which goes directly to cattle, but most of which is used for irrigation of pasture.  There is a significant amount of fresh water diverted for this purpose.  Apparently, the fresh water carries minerals from limestone that are vital for the health of some marine life - oysters in particular.  The population of the world renowned Bluff Oyster was drastically reduced between 1980 and 2000 because of the outbreak of a parasite.  It is believed that the oysters are more susceptible to this parasite because of the reduced amount of minerals available to them from fresh water.

Luckily, oyster fisherman in and around Bluff have voluntarily limited their catches, and growth rates of oysters have been improving over the past few years.  Lucky, of course, because oysters are the highlight of the annual Bluff Seafood and Oyster Festival, which we attended last Saturday.

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I have eaten plenty of oysters before, and I enjoy them in moderation.  They're great to shuck, douse with hot sauce, and slurp down at a barbeque.  I  must say, however, that Bluff oysters are another level compared to what I've had back home.  They're smooth, mild, buttery, and have a clean, marine aftertaste.  I would be happy to eat many.

The unusual thing about eating oysters in New Zealand is that they are almost always pre-shucked.  If you order them 'natural', they come out on a plate with some malt vinegar on the side, but no shells.  I guess this is nice if you're in a hurry, but to me, part of the fun is in shucking your own oysters and trying not to mutilate your thumbs in the process.  Also, the majority of Kiwis seem to prefer them deep fried.  They taste good that way, but I'm a purist.

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It was a rarity to even see the shells, although the oyster was really just sitting in a half shell for effect.  They had already been shucked.  On top of 'natural' oysters, I enjoyed a paua (abalone) sausage, seafood chowder, and an oyster pie.  Fortunately, for Ellen, there were roasted lamb sandwiches and chips.

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Paua sausage. The appearance, turdlike. The taste, not quite turdlike.

The tents kept everyone dry on this typically misty, coastal day.  Local beer and wine were served.  An oyster shucking competition, and a celebrity oyster eating competition kept everyone entertained, as did live music.  There was a particular three man act, who we enjoyed immensely.  Two played ukeleles and one played a mini banjo, or banjalele, and they all sang.  They called themselves 'The Nukes'.

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As we stood in the rain and listened to their light-hearted songs about life on the beach, woman trouble, and murder in the backwoods of West Auckland, a young boy was dancing up a solitary storm. This little guy shook, twisted, jumped an gyrated to the music, while the crowd made room and stood in awe, thinking 'Somebody get that kid some ritalin'.

From New Zealand

From New Zealand

From New Zealand

Needless to say, fun was had by all.  We stopped at the local museum in Invercargill on the way home.  They had an interesting collection of some local art, as well as a habitat for the tuatara, which is a reptile unique to New Zealand.  Apparently the species are as old as dinosaurs, and despite looking like lizards, are not technically lizards.  The adults are about two feet long and they take about 30 years or so to mature to begin breeding.  Pretty cool creatures, but they move very little.

We took Sunday to mostly relax, although we took a short walk in the hills outside of Alexandra, to the ruins of the old gold mining towns of Logantown and Welshtown.  Apparently a rich deposit of gold was found there initially, but business dried up after a decade or so.  There were a great deal of remains of old huts and various buildings used in the settlement.  The hillside had been swiss cheesed with mineshafts.  Most of the old, vertical shafts were covered with steel grate, but were came across several which were not.  It would have been easy to lose a child or dog out there.

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From New Zealand

It's been a fairly busy time in Ranfurly this week.  It rained a ton early in the week and we had our first snow today.  Nothing is sticking in the valley, but the mountains are looking white.  We're off to Dunedin for some city life tomorrow evening if the weather holds up.  We'll just go for the night and head back to Alex on Saturday.  'Til then...

4 Year Anniversary Gift: Boulders?

For those interested in the saga of Ellen's hand, it goes something like this:  she gracefully tripped and fell onto it in a parking lot about 8 weeks ago - yes she was sober.  I had to be her doctor for the day the following Monday because we were in Ranfurly, where I was the only game in town.  Standard x-rays showed no fracture, so she stayed in a splint for a couple weeks.  It stayed sore for the next few weeks, so finally she got it x-rayed again with a few additional views, and there it was, a fractured hook of the hamate.  That's a notoriously difficult to heal injury and often requires surgery to remove the little fracture fragment.  The orthopedist here recommended to have her in a cast for a few weeks to see how it goes.  That's where we are now.  She's never been in a cast before, and to her credit, she is keeping the whining to a minimum and hasn't needed me to help shave her armpits yet...

We're in a little town called Otautau this week.  Population is around 800.  It's about 3 hours drive southwest of Alexandra, in a rainier part of the country.  There's not a lot going on here, just a small clinic, where I'm the only doc.  There's no hospital.  The scenery is pretty - green hills, distant high mountains, and lots of dairy farms.  The doctor's house here is pretty sweet.  Certainly the biggest place we've stayed in, although it is right next to a lumber mill so we are periodically interrupted by the rumbling of double trailered timber trucks and the humming of saws.  I worked in the satellite clinic in an even smaller town, called Nightcaps (pop. 310), the other morning.  I think Nightcaps wins for most awesome town name so far.

May 13th was our fourth wedding anniversary so we decided to spend last weekend at the coast.  We ended up renting a small cottage on a small bay on the east coast.  A small cottage like this is called a bach (pronounced batch) here is New Zealand.  Bach is short for bachelor.  It used to be common for single men working on the coast to have small cottages like this as their homes.  The particular place we stayed was in a small town called Moeraki, about a 2 hour drive east of Alexandra.  It was originally bought for 100 pounds in the late 1800's by a Scotch transplant, who was working as a fisherman.  The story goes that he stayed a bachelor into his late 50's, when the man from a neighbor family died and the Scotsman married the widow, who was 43 at the time.  She moved into the 2 bedroom cottage, along with her two older children.  The new couple had a child of their own as well.  They lived in this house until the old guy became demented and was put in a home.  She sold the house for 50 pounds.  Nowadays it is owned by a gentleman who works as a builder and fisherman.  He lives next door and rents the place out.  It overlooks a small bay, filled with bobbing fishing boats.

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From New Zealand

Moeraki is about thirty minutes drive south of Oamaru - New Zealand's Victorian Town - so we headed up there for a look around on Friday. It was a cloudy, misty day, which I suspect is the type of weather in which the gray, Victorian buildings in town are meant to be experienced.  Most of the buildings in town are built from local limestone, called Oamaru stone.  It is well regarded throughout New Zealand for its beauty.  It seems the Victorian nature of the architecture has more to do with having been preserved, rather than there having been more buildings built in the style.  Regardless, the Victorian quarter is quite beautiful.  It is set beside the bay and now houses shops and a few very unique art galleries.

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From New Zealand

One particular gallery is housed in an old whiskey distillery.  The distillery just lost its lease a few months back, leaving the spacious third floor, which smelled of a mix of malted barley and musty old wood, open for art display.  The work on display included gorgeous landscapes, as well as unique stained glass pieces and driftwood sculptures.  We ended up buying a small driftwood sculpture, which we can't wait to hang on the wall of a more permanent home.

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Down the street from the distillery is the Grainstore Gallery.  This place was like something out of a dream, or a Tim Burton film.  The staircase leading up to the main gallery had an air of mystery, with glossy paintings of plump female faces and huge eyes staring here and there, next to whimsical depictions of circus freaks and religious idols.  As we entered the main gallery, it gave the impression of a grotesque carnival.  There were enormous smiling masquerade masks, even more, larger paintings of plump female faces with staring eyes,  and mannequins dressed in colorful garb made of all variety of fabrics.  White was the predominant color.  I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the imagination on display in this former grainstorage space.  We were attracted to several pieces and ended up taking home a cartoonish painting of various birds, tikis, and teakettles set against a map of New Zealand.  We finally feel like we've found a great memento of our time here.

With rumbling stomachs we journeyed back to Moeraki for dinner at the famous Fleur's Place.  The restaurant is set on a small jetty, sticking out into the bay.  It is a perfect place for the fishing boats to pull right up and unload their daily catch, which they do.

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The menu changes based on what is available - always fresh.  They also source all of their fruits and vegetables locally.  Fleur, who is a bit of a celebrity herself - she coauthored a book, 'Fleur's Place', with Rick Stein - circulates about the place, welcoming each table and appraising everyone of the fish available that evening.

We started with a platter of cold smoked duck, summer sausage, skewered beef, roasted beets, stuffed mushrooms, tender ribs, grilled zucchini, and fresh raw oysters.  For mains, Ellen had a succulent roasted loin of venison and I had a whole tarakihi - like a snapper - in a beautiful almond butter sauce.  We finished with a warm sticky date pudding and vanilla ice cream.  The food was incredible.  Happy to be staying across the street, we waddled on back to the bach and shared a bottle of wine to finish the evening.

Day two started with a pancake breakfast, seated by the window overlooking the overcast bay and its fishing boats.  With full bellies, we went out for a walk down to the famous Moeraki Boulders.  About a mile and a half down the beach sits a peculiar collection of large, spherical gray to brown boulders half buried in the sand.  At high tide, most are just about completely covered with water, but a low tide, these boulders can be seen scattered about the beach.  We arrived sometime in between and there was a small group of tourists having a look and taking photos of each other as they leaned against and stood upon the boulders.

If it is known exactly how these boulders were formed, they certainly don't include a clear picture in the tourist brochures or signs at the site.  They're fairly vague, but maybe that's because it's very complicated.  It seems that this area was once covered by ocean, and calcium deposits from the floor diffused into the sediment, collecting together in bits.  These bits became concreted by pressure into a core.  The core somehow attracted other minerals to form large boulders that sat within the mud of the ocean.  When the seas receded, the boulders were collected within the earth, and as the sea grew again, eroding the shore through wave action, the boulders were exposed.  They are between 3 and 18 feet in diameter, and very heavy.  Most are fairly perfectly spherical, while others have been eroded to the point where the core is exposed and there are cracks, where dolomite and quartz have seeped in.

From New Zealand

We sat for a while on the cool, wet sand of the beach, watching the waves crash against the boulders. With time on our side and no big plans for the rest of the day, it was nice to relax and watch the tide rise. Soon enough, all of the tourists were gone and we got to have some personal time with the boulders.

From New Zealand

From New Zealand

After strolling back to the cottage, we took a drive back to the main highway to stop at a couple farmstands in preparation for dinner.  We bought fresh bacon from a farm, where they were raising pigs, and stopped at a huge stand, filled with fresh veggies and fruit of all colors.  An older Asian immigrant couple were running the place and the man told me the cilantro - coriander here - was fresh from his garden.  I picked up parsnips, carrots, cilantro, kumara (sweet potato), and a couple oranges for about NZ$5.  Great deal and so satisfying to get all of our dinner ingredients from local farmers.

Late in the afternoon, I began preparing our dinner, as Ellen drank wine and supervised.  We picked up a nice rose of pinot noir from Chard Farm the weekend before, and it was the perfect compliment to work in the kitchen.  I made some samosas, filled with kumara and green onion for our appetizer.  There were quite tasty with an apricot-mango chutney, which I did not make.

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I always forget how long all the dough rolling takes.

From New Zealand

A decent result, but they could have been a little crispier.

From New Zealand

Our main was a goat cheese and rosemary crusted rack of lamb.  It was absolutely delicious.  I will be making this again.  The side is a tagine of root vegetables.  It was a nice and spicy complement to the cool, creaminess of the goat cheese crusted lamb, but in the end it was a lot of food.

From New Zealand

From New Zealand

Lucky for our stomachs, dessert took a little while to prepare.  We sat and sipped on a luscious bottle of 'Robert the Bruce' red, which we had picked up a couple weeks before from the Olssen's winery in Central Otago, as our pears were poaching.  Dessert was pears poached in cinnamon, ginger, and vanilla, with a side of vanilla bean ice cream, drizzled with a buttery, dark chocolate sauce.

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I wished I had made more.  To bed with bulging bellies again.

After a night of food sweats, we woke to resume our weekend of gluttony.  We had made a loaf of brioche the night before we came out to the coast, in anticipation of a french toast breakfast.

From New Zealand

This was our first try at brioche - we don't really bake bread much at all - but it turned out really nice. After a good overnight soak in egg, milk and things, it made a lovely french toast. Our fresh bacon was outstanding.

From New Zealand

Not much more to tell after that. We packed up and headed back to Alexandra, where we briefly unpacked and repacked to head out to Otautau for this week. It's going well out here so far. The people in the clinic are very nice, and a friendly local woman came over from her farm to have tea with Ellen this afternoon. We may end up coming back out here before we go. Stay tuned.

Late Weekend Wrap

We've got lots to catch up on, so let's start with a rundown of the weekend before last. Sorry about the late entry, but Ellen's hand is actually broken and she's in a cast, meanwhile, I'm actually busy at work. More on that later...

I had made plans to go kayaking on the Upper Shotover river on Friday, but they were tentative because of predicted rain. This time of year, the Upper Shotover is often too low to run, but it's been raining up in the mountains quite a bit lately and the level has come up nicely. The guys I would be going with would have a look at the water gauge online and give me a call in the morning. I was excited to get going, since it had been a while since I had been in my boat.

I woke up in the morning and did some stretching, eager to get going down the river.  Unfortunately, the rain had been a bit too heavy, and my paddling buddies were nervous, so we decided to postpone until Sunday.Of course this was a letdown. I had been anticipating fresh air and adrenaline. Now I was left with a dreary day and the inside of our flat.

Well, Ellen was down with a cold and had planned on my being gone all day anyway, so I decided to take a drive up past Wanaka and check out a hike I had heard about in Mt Aspiring National Park. I figured I didn't really mind being rained on, just wanted to get outside.

I headed up to Wanaka, into an overcast sky, with the intermittent sprinkle on the 'windscreen' - as they call it. Just to review, Wanaka is a beautiful mountain town at one end of what is typically an intensely blue lake, surrounded by tall, steep, jagged, green and gray peaks, with Mt Aspiring and its' glaciers in the distance. It is about an hour from Alex.

The skies around Lake Wanaka were blanketed in grey cloud, just like in Alexandra, but most of the mountains could still be seen. There is a paved road that follows the shoreline to the other end of the lake and then continues into the Matukituki Valley, alongside the Matukituki River, which flows into Lake Wanaka from the mountains above.  The road quickly becomes a dirt one, riddled with potholes, which were now large puddles of uncertain depth. I cautiously negotiated the road as the valley narrowed.  The rain of the day sent temporary waterfalls cascading from the mountainsides, and the scattered small streams over which I passed were really gushing.  The misty day seemed to put off most of the tourists, so I was one of only a few drivers on the road.  I think I passed three cars during the 40 minute drive.

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While the misty, cloud-laced, mountain scenery were lovely, as I approached the end of the road I was looking forward to getting out of the car and stretching my legs.  The intended hike, however, was not to be.  Thwarted by a washed out bridge, I was.  There was the river, rushing right over a dip in the road, probably about twelve feet wide and two feet deep.  I contemplated (briefly) trying to drive through it, but could just imagine myself on the evening news "Tourist and his waterlogged Nissan found in isolated sheep pasture - still no trace of his pride."  I turned back, happy to be on a bumpy dirt road rather than have water up to the floorboards.

At this point, it was after noon and I just wanted to get out for a bit of a walk.  A hike up to a place called Diamond Lake sounded appealing, so I turned off there.  The fact that my car was the only one at the trailhead was even more appealing, so I marched off up the hill and into the mist.

The hike was well worth it, with a stop and the small Diamond Lake, filled with ducks and surrounded by reeds.  A hike further up the mountain offered awe-inspiring views of Lake Wanaka and its surrounds, as well as to further down into the Matukituki Valley.  I even caught a brief glimpse of Mt Aspiring.

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From New Zealand

From New Zealand

Ellen's cold seemed to be letting up a bit Saturday, so we decided to investigate the art galleries in our area.  There are an astonishing number of excellent artists in Central Otago.  We have been hoping to find something representative of our experience, to remind us of our time here, but haven't quite found it yet - price may have something to do with it.  The scenery obviously lends itself to landscape painting, and that is mostly what we ended up seeing.  The galleries are mostly located on small, country roads.  They're often part of someone's home/studio.  None were busy, and each artist was happy to chat about they're own work, as well as to direct us to other artists' studios.

There was one artist who was exceptionally inventive.  He lives way up on top of a hill, overlooking Lake Dunstan and the vineyards of Cromwell and the road heading up is so steep I wasn't sure our intrepid Nissan wouldn't start rolling backward about halfway up.  The climb was well worth it.  His paintings were not landscapes at all.  We stood in wonder, taking in the scenes of his gallery.  It felt like we were taking a trip inside this man's imagination as he explained how he came up with the idea of a hand-knitted New Zealand, and a cat you could zip open.  I don't have enough time to describe it all in detail, but you can check his work out here http://www.alanwatersart.co.nz/

Another gallery was inside a beautiful old barn.  The outside was mostly stonework, while the interior was a cavernous space, painted white a lit by large windows.  The pieces here were technically outstanding, and since they didn't have listed prices, we could only assume they were out of our range.  We had the artists' partner show us around anyway.

A ride through the Gibbston Valley wouldn't be complete without a stop at a winery, so we broke up our daytrip with a drive over to Chard Farm.  This place must be the most beautiful winery in Central Otago.  It is set right beside the deep gorge, through which the Kawarau River runs down to Cromwell from Queenstown.  It is on the side of the gorge opposite the highway, so after negotiating a small bridge over the gorge, a narrow, winding, dirt road makes its way up to the vineyards and tasting room, that is after the road's edge hugs the bluff high above the river.  As your heart rate starts to slow back to normal, the view opens up to the reds, oranges, and yellows of the grapevine leaves as they are illuminated in the late autumn sun.

Not only was it beautiful, but they had a sweet sculpture out front.

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Our plans were dinner in nearby Arrowtown and then a movie at Dorothy Brown's, the cute little cinema where we were the only audience members a couple months back. Dinner was at Saffron and was delicious. We started with a fresh, warm fig salad and a pork tenderloin rolled up with basil and mozzarella. This was followed by roasted loin of venison and vegetables for Ellen and a trio of grilled swordfish in a watercress vinagrette, crispy, deep fried soft shell crab, and creamy smoked salmon mixture wrapped up in a cool, beetroot crepe. A too tasty to describe goat cheese sorbet finished off a meal worth remembering.

Dinner was wrapped up in time to make it to see 'Boy' the movie that has taken New Zealand by storm. Regrettably, we had not made a booking, so we were out of luck. It was back to Alexandra for us, where we had our first run in with the 5-0. About two blocks from our place, we were pulled over on a side street after a cop passed us, flipped on his lights, and made a U-turn. Turns out he was doing a 'random registration check'. Although, he did shove a breathalyzer in my face. It seemed like he was planning to do the small town cop thing and hassle the out of towners, but as soon as I told him I was in town filling in as a GP, his manners changed and he was off. Strange encounter. Apparently, in New Zealand, they can pull people over without cause. I guess we're lucky they only do that to minorities in the States...

As luck would have it, the Shotover came down overnight and was just right for a trip on Sunday. The morning was sunny and crisp, and a frost lay on the grass. The drive took us an our outside of Alex, up into the mountains, then through the pass and down into Skippers Canyon. You may remember Skippers from a previous blog. Yet another bumpy, windy, dirt road took us down to the canyon as it hugged the side of the steep bluff overlooking the rive. This canyon is quite a bit more rugged appearing than the Kawarau Gorge, heading up to Queenstown. The walls are very steep, and it is deep. There is not much vegetation, and the look is rocky and brown.

A small house sits in the bottom of the canyon, next to the river. This is the jetboat headquarters. We stopped to check in to let them know we would be in the river so we wouldn't end up being plowed over by a large, fast boat, loaded six wide with tourists, who would snap photos of our terrified faces before we met our demise.

Further up the canyon road we reached the put-in. There was still frost on the road and the car thermometer read one degree celsius. Thank goodness for synthetic clothing. I was borrowing a boat I hadn't paddled before. In fact, I hadn't even taken a seat in it before that morning, which was probably a mistake. It turned out that it was a bit wide for me as my hips didn't even contact the sides. My control would be less than ideal, and I wasn't sure what would happen if I had to roll. Too late to turn back now.

The three of us hopped in our boats and slid into the sloshing white and brown of the river. The water here often has a dazzling blue-ish, green color, but because of the recent rains it was not quite as brilliant.

The water was high enough so that it was a fairly easy trip with more or less continuous rapids, bopping down drowned boulder gardens and surfing in waves. They were frequent and well formed, so we had lots of opportunities to play. I did get to find out what would happen with the whole rolling situation. Got flipped playing in a wave and soon found that rolling would be more or less impossible. Instead of shifting my weight and rolling the boat with my hips, I just fell out the of the way too big boat. It was a nice, cold swim for me. I didn't have to go too far, though. I quickly made it to shore, where there was an old, rusted out stamping battery from the mining days of the late 1800's. I would have stayed to check it out, but I was freezing, so I hopped back in the boat and continued downriver.

The rest of the trip was interrupted only once by a near run in with the jetboat. Good thing they can spin on a dime. I'm not sure who looked more surprised, us or the passengers. Well, a cold day, brief swim, and even a near miss with a jetboat couldn't ruin a beautiful trip down a remote gorge. Bonus for not soiling myself when the jetboat came around. More to come...

A chilly weekend in the C.O.

This past weekend was a kind of low key affair, while we hung around the area and just checked out C.O.(Central Otago) a little more.

This started on a chilly Friday when we decided to check out the little gold mining town called Ophir that's only a few miles away. We had picked up the map/walking guide of the town that includes the history of the buildings. It is truly impossible to get lost in this town since it is little more than one main road. The map gave us all the information we needed about the buildings on either side of this one road-some of the buildings were adorably intact and some gave off a strong creepy/decaying vibe. Ophir, like a lot of little towns around here, popped up in the 1860's during the goldrush and had a population of a whopping 1000 people. Now about 50 people live in Ophir and none of the inhabitants were out and about while we were walking around-except for some chickens. Of the buildings that have been restored is the post office, that is actually still used as a post office, and (according to the walking guide) is one of the most photographed buildings in Central Otago. Of course I had to a take a few for myself.

From New Zealand

Honesty cart/boxes are incredibly common in New Zealand. These are unattended stands or carts that usually sell some kind of agricultural product-like fruit, veggies, free range eggs- and relies on customers using the honor system to pay. Of course Ophir has one too and while there wasn't much in it at the time, it looked like there were a couple things in there that we were not at all interested in buying, but that is also an incredibly common site here in NZ-poo. Selling poo, usually sheep poo, is done by just about place we've been. I particularly love it when selling sheep poo is used as a fundraiser for whatever local group-right now you can drive down to the fire station in Alex and pick up some poo as part of a fundraiser. It just makes so much sense-lots of sheep=lots of poo=good fertilizer=fundraiser!

From New Zealand

Since it's getting to be winter here we decided that it was time to go wine tasting a few more places, before vineyards start closing for the season. You all are spared pictures, I was so worried I would forget to put the fully charged battery in the camera that I forgot to put in the memory card-genius! There were a couple highlights of this wine tasting trip. The first was a stop to the winery Gate 20 two in Bannockburn. We follow the signs and arrive to a place that says it's open but really just looks like someones (very nice) house. We (tentatively!) ring the doorbell and it is opened by Pauline McKinlay, who along with her husband single handily run the whole vineyard. She was incredibly warm and friendly and we were invited into their foyer to taste their two wines-a pinot noir and pinot gris. She tells us that just that morning they had been picking the last of their crop and she still had grape juice on her glasses. Her husband, Nigel, walks in, as he has been eavesdropping on our conversation and asks us about Oregon, wine, if we're in the business (we get asked this very frequently while wine tasting!) and we find out they just found out that they were grandparents and were waiting for a call to tell them when they need to books flights for Sydney-where their daughter is. This is about a world different from other places we've been, where the conversation ranges from painfully dull to nonexistent. The other highlight was the Scott Base Winery. Their wines were very good, but it was the unexpected addition of beer that was really interesting. We found out that this winery was the southern base of a wine maker in Marlborough, on the north part of the South Island. They also brew Moa Beer...and they have heaps of it at this vineyard in Cromwell (only about 30 mins from Alex!). Keith had read about some of their beers in Beer Advocate and not surprisingly we took home more beer than wine from there...I can't wait to try St. Joseph's Tripel that we picked up!

You are also spared pictures from a very chilly, pretty hike we did in Conroy's Gully, just a little bit outside of Alex-this is because my computer and my memory card have become arch enemies, or maybe they have been battling for a while and now the computer is winning, by crashing every time I try to open the folder with pictures in in-who knows. You're missing out on some shots of one very intact gold mining hut, where I'm sure Keith would be more than happy camping/living for a while, and a number of other huts in various states of ruin. All the while we're chatting about the political situation in Fiji where there was a military coup and then an other military coup-both headed by Sitiveni Ligamamada Rabuka (Steve) and both in 1987. There have been a few other coups in Fiji since then, but the book Keith's reading was written in the 1990's. Keith has taken it upon himself to read every travel book he can find since we've been here and now with our trip to Tonga coming up, he's reading anything and everything about the South Pacific. Maybe we should work on getting more up to date reading material at some point.

This next weekend we'll be hanging around the area a little more before a few weeks of almost constant traveling to and fro, with Keith working a few different places and a few weekend trips planned!