We began the day with a sense of optimism and anticipation. Today we would hopefully get a place to live! We received an email from the agent of the tiny, but lovely, studio that we would hear back during the day after his meeting with the owners. With our fingers crossed, we took the morning off flat-hunting.
Sick of eating in restaurants and cafes, we headed down to the Chinese supermarket to get ourselves some salad ingredients. We quickly prepared a tomato, cucumber, ginger, onion, spinach, lime and chilli salad, and G added some craved-for vegetarian sausage (which C had deemed as "revolting" and the Italian guy had described as German sausage left out for a month) to her own plate.
After brunch, G was eager to try a more challenging ballet class, and C was excited to start swimming again, so thus we began to fulfill our first Auckland resolution to GET FIT! G greatly enjoyed her Russian-style class, and met C outside afterwards, who was half dead after an intense swim. Almost back at the hostel, C got hungry, so we stopped at "Revel" to fill her up. She chose a rather delicious mushroom and walnut burger, and we got told that we have awesome accents. We also got handed a Cookie Monster toy for no apparent reason. This can only be a good thing.
Back in our room, we received an email telling us that the owner of the flat had decided to go with another applicant. Disappointed, we resolved to start looking again, but this time with an accomplice! Nat, one of our new friends that we met on Sunday, had expressed an interest in flat-sharing with us, and so we expanded our search to 2-bedroomed apartments.
In the meantime, we received another message from a vegan looking to flat-share, widening the choice of available properties. G booked us in at another hostel down the road, as we have to leave this one tomorrow. We spent the rest of the evening trying to arrange viewings, and feeling pretty bummed out.
The bears are a bit bummed too, but Fandango, ever the optimist, is sure that we will find somewhere amazing soon. Fred and Ginger are hounding us for a room of their own, but we have stressed that this is quite unfeasible, whilst Jeremy's location is currently unknown but likely to be one of the seedier clubs on K-Road.
Thursday, 27 February 2014
Wednesday, 26 February 2014
The Agrarian's Nephew
We came out of the studio, turned right, and were within seconds on the university campus (another bonus to the studio). C had a meeting with her tutor, and so we went directly there. After discussion, C had to swap one class for another due to timetable clashes, and it turns out the computer systems are difficult for both novices and old-hats.
The tutor was unable to swap the classes, and so sent C to the student services centre. There, they said that C had to go home and do it a different way. En route home, we stopped into an off-license and bought some quintessentially Kiwi beer: Tui. Back at the hostel, we opened a bottle each, and C proceeded to try to swap the classes, for which she was presented with a confirmation page for $4333. Thanks, but no thanks. A swift email to the tutor, and "Stuart" was able to swap the classes. G was less than impressed with the Tui!
We quickly filled in the application form for the studio, and then tried several times to send the email (the internet connection here is flaky at best), and managed to send it just as Gareth, G's cousin (who she had never met before), called to say he was outside. He picked us up in this vintage BMW, with no power steering, and a very heavy clutch. We girls ride in style! He took us to another flat viewing, and came inside whilst we were shown around.
The proposed living space was a huge, unfurnished, loft, which we were shown around by a very bored mid-20s girl (who just so happened to be called Caroline). For this unfurnished loft, we would pay the very (un)reasonable rate of $370/week. We then sat down and had a brief chat with the previous and current tenants. From left-to-right: lawyer at Phillip Morris, fighting plain packaging for cigarettes; civil engineer at AU; lawyer; mumble neither of us understood. We made small talk, but both of us felt very unwelcome, and the second we got back in Gareth's car, proclaimed "NO!"
Gareth drove us to a parking spot, and we got out and went to "Mexico", in Ponsonby, for some dinner. There we had delicious guacamole (avocados are ubiquitous here), and C had a quinoa, coconut, carrot salad, G had a chickpea taco (a.k.a. falafal), and Gareth had meat. We all partook in a carafe of sangria :) During the meal, C asked Gareth if any of his uncles were physicians (we wanted to name the blog post after "The Magician's Nephew"), and he said he has a farmer uncle. Well, that was good enough for the pun!
After Mexico, we went next door to a very nice bar, which charged through the nose for what we would call singles, but here are doubles, of Laphroaig and a Heineken. We chatted about life in NZ, and made plans to go visit some more of G's family in Wellington.
After C almost fell asleep on the table, Gareth kindly drove us back to the youth hostel. There, G received a text from "Todd" saying that the other house-mates were "keen to offer" the place to us if interested.
The tutor was unable to swap the classes, and so sent C to the student services centre. There, they said that C had to go home and do it a different way. En route home, we stopped into an off-license and bought some quintessentially Kiwi beer: Tui. Back at the hostel, we opened a bottle each, and C proceeded to try to swap the classes, for which she was presented with a confirmation page for $4333. Thanks, but no thanks. A swift email to the tutor, and "Stuart" was able to swap the classes. G was less than impressed with the Tui!
We quickly filled in the application form for the studio, and then tried several times to send the email (the internet connection here is flaky at best), and managed to send it just as Gareth, G's cousin (who she had never met before), called to say he was outside. He picked us up in this vintage BMW, with no power steering, and a very heavy clutch. We girls ride in style! He took us to another flat viewing, and came inside whilst we were shown around.
The proposed living space was a huge, unfurnished, loft, which we were shown around by a very bored mid-20s girl (who just so happened to be called Caroline). For this unfurnished loft, we would pay the very (un)reasonable rate of $370/week. We then sat down and had a brief chat with the previous and current tenants. From left-to-right: lawyer at Phillip Morris, fighting plain packaging for cigarettes; civil engineer at AU; lawyer; mumble neither of us understood. We made small talk, but both of us felt very unwelcome, and the second we got back in Gareth's car, proclaimed "NO!"
Gareth drove us to a parking spot, and we got out and went to "Mexico", in Ponsonby, for some dinner. There we had delicious guacamole (avocados are ubiquitous here), and C had a quinoa, coconut, carrot salad, G had a chickpea taco (a.k.a. falafal), and Gareth had meat. We all partook in a carafe of sangria :) During the meal, C asked Gareth if any of his uncles were physicians (we wanted to name the blog post after "The Magician's Nephew"), and he said he has a farmer uncle. Well, that was good enough for the pun!
After Mexico, we went next door to a very nice bar, which charged through the nose for what we would call singles, but here are doubles, of Laphroaig and a Heineken. We chatted about life in NZ, and made plans to go visit some more of G's family in Wellington.
After C almost fell asleep on the table, Gareth kindly drove us back to the youth hostel. There, G received a text from "Todd" saying that the other house-mates were "keen to offer" the place to us if interested.
Flat (Studio) Land
On Tuesday morning, first light had not yet broke when we awoke at 0600. We cleaned our teeth with the most delicious baking soda vegan toothpaste, made coffee, and proceeded to flat hunt. G texted "Todd" to arrange a viewing at his town-house for the evening, and then phoned "Mike" to arrange a viewing at a studio in the city centre.
We then spent a bit of time reading: C "Confessions of a New York Taxi Driver", and G "Farmageddon". We checked our emails again, and a minor panic ensued when C received an email from the admissions tutor, indicating that there were serious timetable clashes and could she please come in to sort it out. That meeting was arranged for half three.
G went to her first ballet class in months, which was taught by a friendly Russian-trained South American lady called Ione. There, she put to good use her questionable Japanese skills by chatting to a Japanese lady, as well as refresh some basic ballet technique. Hopefully this will become a frequent occurrence (the ballet, not the Japanese!)
In the meantime, C was brushing up on details of the course that she didn't want to drop. The noise outside the window is pretty heavy, so the noise-cancelling headphones she got for her birthday were delightful to study with!
Afterwards, we met in town for lunch, and ended up in Nando's, where after we'd ordered and sat down, realised that we needed to be at a flat viewing in ten minutes! We called "Mike" and pushed the viewing back by half an hour. It was a close call, as C had ordered a mayo-free burger, only to have her burger covered in mayo. (This seems to be a recurrent theme out here.) G was disappointed, as her favourite mushroom and hallumi burger wasn't on the menu, so made do with avocado and cheddar instead!
We made our way up a very steep hill to where the studio is, and met "Mike" outside. He was a very friendly, amicable middle-aged Kiwi who just-so happen to be an Anglophile! The studio itself was lovely, very small, but very fung-shui. Some enjoyably hideous art (think bright green splatters of paint across one of the canvases, framed above the table). The bed was behind the sofa, the kitchen behind the other sofa, and a reasonably-sized bathroom. There were four hobs, which facilitates the amount of cooking we do, and a good-sized table for C to do uni work.
Noticing a Waitrose bag on the floor, C exclaimed "There's Waitrose in NZ??" Mike laughed and said, no, he goes to the UK every two years, and we had a good old chat about the Cotswalds. Although small, it felt very homey, and we both liked it immediately, and so expressed an interest.
We then spent a bit of time reading: C "Confessions of a New York Taxi Driver", and G "Farmageddon". We checked our emails again, and a minor panic ensued when C received an email from the admissions tutor, indicating that there were serious timetable clashes and could she please come in to sort it out. That meeting was arranged for half three.
G went to her first ballet class in months, which was taught by a friendly Russian-trained South American lady called Ione. There, she put to good use her questionable Japanese skills by chatting to a Japanese lady, as well as refresh some basic ballet technique. Hopefully this will become a frequent occurrence (the ballet, not the Japanese!)
In the meantime, C was brushing up on details of the course that she didn't want to drop. The noise outside the window is pretty heavy, so the noise-cancelling headphones she got for her birthday were delightful to study with!
Afterwards, we met in town for lunch, and ended up in Nando's, where after we'd ordered and sat down, realised that we needed to be at a flat viewing in ten minutes! We called "Mike" and pushed the viewing back by half an hour. It was a close call, as C had ordered a mayo-free burger, only to have her burger covered in mayo. (This seems to be a recurrent theme out here.) G was disappointed, as her favourite mushroom and hallumi burger wasn't on the menu, so made do with avocado and cheddar instead!
We made our way up a very steep hill to where the studio is, and met "Mike" outside. He was a very friendly, amicable middle-aged Kiwi who just-so happen to be an Anglophile! The studio itself was lovely, very small, but very fung-shui. Some enjoyably hideous art (think bright green splatters of paint across one of the canvases, framed above the table). The bed was behind the sofa, the kitchen behind the other sofa, and a reasonably-sized bathroom. There were four hobs, which facilitates the amount of cooking we do, and a good-sized table for C to do uni work.
Noticing a Waitrose bag on the floor, C exclaimed "There's Waitrose in NZ??" Mike laughed and said, no, he goes to the UK every two years, and we had a good old chat about the Cotswalds. Although small, it felt very homey, and we both liked it immediately, and so expressed an interest.
Tuesday, 25 February 2014
Bleak House
As lovely as our hostel is, we decided that we couldn't stay there forever and should probably find our own place before C starts Uni. On our way into town for breakfast we picked up some listings from an agency. Over breakfast (delicious smashed avo on toast and Americanos) we pored over the list and arranged some viewings for noon.
The first set of viewings looked promising from the outside: standard new-ish high-rise, centrally located, and potential for a good view. From the off, the prospects sharply diminished, as the bored-out-of-his-head agent took us to the first apartment. The feng-shui could not have been worse.
A dimly-lit, narrow corridor led us to a room more fitting for the cramped conditions of a third-class living quarters on a cruise ship of the early 1900s. The bedrooms consisted of moth-eaten, worn-out mattresses, narrowly surrounded by peeling walls, with one cupboard which would strain under the weight of a hanger.
The living room was marginally better, with cigarette-hole-ridden sofas, which the home-owner refused to replace, and a TV-set the Antiques Roadshow could have got tuppence ha'penny for. No more than one person could move through the doors at a time, leading to a ridiculous kissing-gate affair, made even more so by the fact the bathroom could only be viewed when the bedroom door was closed. The tumble dryer was hoisted upside-down on top of the washing machine, suspended by duct tape and the good grace of god. In short, the architects have a lot to answer for.
Trepidatiously, we made our way to the next viewing which was in the same block. One of the other people also viewing the flats had mysteriously vanished. The next flat was slightly less terrible, but only slightly. By the time we made it to the third viewing, G politely made a very British apology about getting deja-vu, and we hurriedly excused ourselves.
Recovering from our harrowing experience at a local (and delicious) Lebanese cafe, we quickly decided that if we were to find a place that we like, a change of criteria would be necessary. To that end, we began to search anew, scouring "Trade Me" (a popular NZ trading site) for potential flatmates willing to accept us, the bears and the uke. The quest continues.
The first set of viewings looked promising from the outside: standard new-ish high-rise, centrally located, and potential for a good view. From the off, the prospects sharply diminished, as the bored-out-of-his-head agent took us to the first apartment. The feng-shui could not have been worse.
A dimly-lit, narrow corridor led us to a room more fitting for the cramped conditions of a third-class living quarters on a cruise ship of the early 1900s. The bedrooms consisted of moth-eaten, worn-out mattresses, narrowly surrounded by peeling walls, with one cupboard which would strain under the weight of a hanger.
The living room was marginally better, with cigarette-hole-ridden sofas, which the home-owner refused to replace, and a TV-set the Antiques Roadshow could have got tuppence ha'penny for. No more than one person could move through the doors at a time, leading to a ridiculous kissing-gate affair, made even more so by the fact the bathroom could only be viewed when the bedroom door was closed. The tumble dryer was hoisted upside-down on top of the washing machine, suspended by duct tape and the good grace of god. In short, the architects have a lot to answer for.
Trepidatiously, we made our way to the next viewing which was in the same block. One of the other people also viewing the flats had mysteriously vanished. The next flat was slightly less terrible, but only slightly. By the time we made it to the third viewing, G politely made a very British apology about getting deja-vu, and we hurriedly excused ourselves.
Recovering from our harrowing experience at a local (and delicious) Lebanese cafe, we quickly decided that if we were to find a place that we like, a change of criteria would be necessary. To that end, we began to search anew, scouring "Trade Me" (a popular NZ trading site) for potential flatmates willing to accept us, the bears and the uke. The quest continues.
Monday, 24 February 2014
Prideshead Revisited
On Sunday, we had a lie-in, and woke up at the unearthly hour of 0715. We emerged for breakfast and had morning coffee on the balcony. The previous day, C had bought coffee and a cafetiere from the Indian supermarket. En route, she was approached by a scam artist with a sob story about an old lady who had switched the terminals on his car battery, and needed just $31 to reach his $200 to pick up his brother and sister. It never materialised why he couldn't just turn the battery around, but hey.
On the balcony was an Italian, a Spaniard, and a Chinese man, who were all very lovely and interesting. We are convinced the Chinese man works for the South-East Asian tourist board, as he never stopped talking about how amazing South-East Asia is. Both of us left wanting desperately to visit Thailand and Vietnam!
We came back to the room where C read for a while, and G learned to play the Bare (Bear) Necessities on the ukelele. G found on the Internet the only fully vegan shop in the whole of New Zealand, which just so happened to be down the road from the youth hostel. Karangahape Road, or K-Road as it's known, is one of the most eclectic streets we've ever encountered. It has a strange mix of Chinese and Indian supermarkets, South-East Asian cuisine, several gay bars, a few seedy gentlemen clubs, vintage clothes shops and a handful of Middle Eastern places.
So, we sauntered to "Cruelty Free", and after 15 minutes of fawning over their selection, we bought some cookies, toothpaste (which is lovely), coconut water, and shower gel. We even put in a request for the best vegan sausages, by Veggie Deli, whose range they already stocked. We then explored the Chinese supermarket to buy some cucumber and carrot for the picnic we attended in the afternoon. In the supermarket, there were dried fungi of all kinds, very strange-looking vegetables, an entire fridge devoted to tofu, several fridges devoted to pork, and some oddities in between.
We then tried to find some hummus, but sadly couldn't, so ended up buying a huge takeaway box of the stuff from the Lebanese cafe. Then, back to chop up carrots and cucumber with the bluntest knives ever encountered.
We headed to the Rainbow Youth centre (the organisation in charge of running Pride) for a picnic in the park. There we met some lovely people, and had a jolly good afternoon. C even met a fellow Jew with whom she played Jewish geography (Hasmo boy from Edgware... c'mon!) and G found a kindred baking spirit, who had the wacky notion of vegan chocolate and avocado cake, which is apparently a winning combination! Recipe swapping will surely ensue.
On the balcony was an Italian, a Spaniard, and a Chinese man, who were all very lovely and interesting. We are convinced the Chinese man works for the South-East Asian tourist board, as he never stopped talking about how amazing South-East Asia is. Both of us left wanting desperately to visit Thailand and Vietnam!
We came back to the room where C read for a while, and G learned to play the Bare (Bear) Necessities on the ukelele. G found on the Internet the only fully vegan shop in the whole of New Zealand, which just so happened to be down the road from the youth hostel. Karangahape Road, or K-Road as it's known, is one of the most eclectic streets we've ever encountered. It has a strange mix of Chinese and Indian supermarkets, South-East Asian cuisine, several gay bars, a few seedy gentlemen clubs, vintage clothes shops and a handful of Middle Eastern places.
So, we sauntered to "Cruelty Free", and after 15 minutes of fawning over their selection, we bought some cookies, toothpaste (which is lovely), coconut water, and shower gel. We even put in a request for the best vegan sausages, by Veggie Deli, whose range they already stocked. We then explored the Chinese supermarket to buy some cucumber and carrot for the picnic we attended in the afternoon. In the supermarket, there were dried fungi of all kinds, very strange-looking vegetables, an entire fridge devoted to tofu, several fridges devoted to pork, and some oddities in between.
We then tried to find some hummus, but sadly couldn't, so ended up buying a huge takeaway box of the stuff from the Lebanese cafe. Then, back to chop up carrots and cucumber with the bluntest knives ever encountered.
We headed to the Rainbow Youth centre (the organisation in charge of running Pride) for a picnic in the park. There we met some lovely people, and had a jolly good afternoon. C even met a fellow Jew with whom she played Jewish geography (Hasmo boy from Edgware... c'mon!) and G found a kindred baking spirit, who had the wacky notion of vegan chocolate and avocado cake, which is apparently a winning combination! Recipe swapping will surely ensue.
Pride and Prejudice
We landed in Auckland on Friday, and were greeted by some very cheery passport control officers, who completely ignored our customs declaration which stated that we may be carrying "medicines, restricted substances, illegal drugs, drug paraphernalia, or illegal publications" (G had some painkillers). They did however find time to scrub clean C's hiking boots, and wish her a happy birthday!
We emerged into bright sunny daylight, which was welcome following 24 hours in virtual darkness, and found a shuttle service straight to our hostel. The shuttle driver kindly decided to unload someone else's rucksack with our luggage, which we eventually managed to return. The hostel is lovely, the beds comfortable- perfect for passing out after a long journey.
After our (8 hour) nap, we took a night-time stroll around the city. There are trees everywhere, lots of international restaurants, and a ship-shaped club in the middle of the street, pumping out such 90's anthems as "Barbie Girl" and "Baby one more time". We aren't sure if it was a cheesy pop night, or whether it takes 20 years for music to reach these distant shores (given the number of skateboards, we'd guess the latter).
The following day, we explored the city centre. C bought a Kobo e-reader, as the death of a third Kindle put an end to brand loyalty. We purchased SIM cards and had working phones again by the afternoon. Yay!
In the evening, we made our way down to Ponsonby Road, to witness the Auckland Pride parade, passing a Christian stall proudly displaying a scale model of Noah's Ark. Sadly, the event was disappointing, as there was too much time between the floats, so people got bored in between, which ruined the atmosphere. C and G attempted to provide enthusiasm and whooping, but to no avail. We later found out that the theme was "Time", which explains why many of the floats had been vaguely space-age-y for no apparent reason.
The swim team had an original display, with space-age swimmers divided by rope lanes swimming down the road to loud music. There was a man dressed as a giant dinosaur, a retro ambulance, and a heart-warming family float with very cute enthusiastic children and toddlers dancing on top with their parents.
We left the parade after an hour or so, as the waiting around was a bit of a downer. We later found out that the parade had been held up due to attacks on the Israeli float.
Sunday, 23 February 2014
(halfway) Around the world in 80 (-78) days
We arrived at London Heathrow 3.5 hours before the flight was due to take off, and boarded the plane just as the gates were closing. "How?" might you ask? Well...
We arrived at London Heathrow 3.5 hours before the flight was due to take off. Caroline's bag was of a strange shape, due to the attachment of three bears (Fred, Ginger, and Jeremy) on the front, so the bag was taken to the "Handle with Bear" section. Post check-in, we met Gwenlli's sister Rhianwen for a last supper. There, we played the piano and had some tea and scones.
Shortly before boarding, we said bye to R, and headed through security. C beeped the alarm, and so was given a rather fresh body check. By the time we were through, the display indicated that the gate was currently closing. Of course, the gate the flight was taking off from was the furthest away in all of the airport. Due to (unchecked) hand baggage weight constraints, we had a rather awkward selection of coats, bags, and electrical items. However, sprint we must, so sprint we did, and made it to the gate gasping and wheezing, and coughing. Thus made the first resolution: GET FIT AGAIN.
The flight was mostly uneventful, apart from C spilling the lady next to her's coca-cola all over her blanket. After profusely apologising and requesting a refill from the cabin crew, the lady was subdued. Thus G and C settled down to watch "Some Like it Hot", with some veggie Indian food for G, and some vegan food for C. The experience was a first - synchronising an in-flight film is not the easiest of tasks. Halfway through, we fell asleep, and woke up with a breakfast, meaning we were one hour from Hong Kong (the flight arrived half an hour early).
Hong Kong airport was fairly easily navigated - although the lack of trolleys made for some interesting manoeuvres. En route to the trolleys on the other side of security, our paths were blocked by loud people chattering away... The Israelis are everywhere!
The airport was a mall with an airport attached. The views were quite pretty, but very smoggy, and the air felt sort of thick. At one point, the loudspeaker warned us about avian flu, and how we should report feeling weak or feverish to a member of the health team (who were hard to miss - they were bedecked in surgical masks and looked very serious).
We found a quiet spot at the far end of the terminal building - originally it had been to watch sunset, but it took over ten minutes to traverse the full length of the hangar. There we stretched, dozed, and then headed to the gate.
The flight to Auckland was quite easy - we watched the end of "Some Like it Hot", slept a lot, and ate yet more food. C had some very disgusting tofu pudding, whereas G had delicious idly and medhu vadai... No rest for the wicked.
We arrived at London Heathrow 3.5 hours before the flight was due to take off. Caroline's bag was of a strange shape, due to the attachment of three bears (Fred, Ginger, and Jeremy) on the front, so the bag was taken to the "Handle with Bear" section. Post check-in, we met Gwenlli's sister Rhianwen for a last supper. There, we played the piano and had some tea and scones.
Shortly before boarding, we said bye to R, and headed through security. C beeped the alarm, and so was given a rather fresh body check. By the time we were through, the display indicated that the gate was currently closing. Of course, the gate the flight was taking off from was the furthest away in all of the airport. Due to (unchecked) hand baggage weight constraints, we had a rather awkward selection of coats, bags, and electrical items. However, sprint we must, so sprint we did, and made it to the gate gasping and wheezing, and coughing. Thus made the first resolution: GET FIT AGAIN.
The flight was mostly uneventful, apart from C spilling the lady next to her's coca-cola all over her blanket. After profusely apologising and requesting a refill from the cabin crew, the lady was subdued. Thus G and C settled down to watch "Some Like it Hot", with some veggie Indian food for G, and some vegan food for C. The experience was a first - synchronising an in-flight film is not the easiest of tasks. Halfway through, we fell asleep, and woke up with a breakfast, meaning we were one hour from Hong Kong (the flight arrived half an hour early).
Hong Kong airport was fairly easily navigated - although the lack of trolleys made for some interesting manoeuvres. En route to the trolleys on the other side of security, our paths were blocked by loud people chattering away... The Israelis are everywhere!
The airport was a mall with an airport attached. The views were quite pretty, but very smoggy, and the air felt sort of thick. At one point, the loudspeaker warned us about avian flu, and how we should report feeling weak or feverish to a member of the health team (who were hard to miss - they were bedecked in surgical masks and looked very serious).
We found a quiet spot at the far end of the terminal building - originally it had been to watch sunset, but it took over ten minutes to traverse the full length of the hangar. There we stretched, dozed, and then headed to the gate.
The flight to Auckland was quite easy - we watched the end of "Some Like it Hot", slept a lot, and ate yet more food. C had some very disgusting tofu pudding, whereas G had delicious idly and medhu vadai... No rest for the wicked.
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