WHY COULDN'T WE LEAVE THEIR WORLD ALONE? -
I was still scooping out sand from my ear cavities from sandboarding the day after. After waving off Brooke, I took a 2km gentle jaunt to Waitangi Treaty Grounds: the birthplace of this nation. February 6th 1840 is an account of British betrayal (when I'd thought we were a relatively innocent kingdom!) and we can't laugh our way out of this one. The Brits and Maoris had differing mind-sets towards land as Maoris believe they belong to whenua, meaning land and Brits considered land to be a commodity 'to own and trade'.
The Museum helped me gain an understanding of what my country did to unfairly colonise Aotearoa and the ramifications this had, explaining in detail the Treaty terms in which 2 nations agreed to live together in goodwill but 'each side had different understandings of what the Treaty meant and how it would be put into effect.' Basically the Brits didn't uphold their end of the bargain which included protecting the Maoris which led to tension and war. At this point, I get why Maoris in particular, are/were more than a bit livid with us as a nation. Queen Elizabeth II issued a royal apology to New Zealand in 1990; 150 years too late if you ask me!
A flag pole marks the spot where the Treaty was first signed, the mast is 34 metres high and the navy is still responsible for its maintenance. It waves the 3 recognised flags of New Zealand. It was a pity that the Treaty House was being utterly refurbished on my visit so we couldn't enter and the noise was deafening. Later, I watched a video re-enactment accurately depicting the worst of the agreement.
BEING SHOWN THE WAY OF THE MAORIS -
A tribe war-danced to warn us off anything hostile at the beginning of the cultural performance at the Meeting House. Our designated 'Chief' was offered a bay leaf as a gesture of kindness to see if we came in peace; he accepted on our behalf. Inside the sacred Assembly Hall, we could only take photos, not videos and had to take off our shoes to go inside before we were seated and formally welcomed. The performances were lively and boisterous with some hauntingly melodic and spiritual songs in between the traditional, tribal dances of exuberance. Of course, the haka was the grand finale and it is still just as exciting as when I saw my first. I waited back for pics with the performers.
Eating in the grounds put me in a picnicking pickle from the food-scrounging birdies. I don't enjoy people seeing me eat completely alone on my travels, so in a way, at least the birds gave me some company. It was a nice walk back to the town centre, past lots of passionately pretty beaches along Ti Tay Bay.
On my final full day in Paihia, I set sail on the Blue Ferry across the bay to Russell on a 15 minute crossing. It's fun to skim over shimmery waters with a jolly skipper at the helm. Russell, a favourite little spot in Bay of Islands, being an important and cute seaside town. I'm very smitten by it too! It was the first sea port in New Zealand, because of the deep water harbour it was also big on sealing and whaling :(
It's hard to see how this gem was formerly the hell hole of the Pacific; swashbucklers got up to all manner of seedy depravities with grogshops, brothels and violent rowdiness. These days, the place of the sweet penguins (Kororareka as it was known in Maori, before it was renamed as Russell in 1844 in honour of the British Colonial Secretary of the day) is far more serene. Not surprisingly, my first port of call was Newport Chocolates, where I forked out $11 for a crafted, hot chocolate and a raspberry, chilli lime truffle. Their own blackboard claims the hot choc as the best in NZ and while I wouldn't go quite that far, it is a cuddle in a cup that I could taste the love in.
THE SCENERY MAKES FOR A PRETTY PICTURE -
Forging ahead on a mini trek to Flagstaff Hill, a semi-steep bush walk through kiwi territory and manuka scrub. The Union Jack was first flown here in 1840 but was 'chopped down 4 times up till 1845 as a symbolic gesture against British rule.' I had the hill all to myself for 15 minutes before European couples 'disturbed' my seclusion. It must be nice to wander up whenever the mood strikes residents. Picnics are always humorous when the native birds want to befriend you just to get at your crumbs. I know how to share so threw out leftovers for my feathered friends to eat.
Taking in the 360 degree views through haze was still special although it wasn't stunningly sunny. The vistas up here are held in high esteem but could barely be seen. And then came the rain! This was not part of my plan but walking in the spritz was refreshing and even so, I bought my happy face out. Funny how it sent all the holiday-makers fleeing! I disagree with the premise of running in general but especially when the ground is boggy so slowly dilly-dallied downwards.
IT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE STUCK IN THE 19TH CENTURY -
Christ Church takes the title of the oldest church in NZ (est. 1836) and although it has undergone wide restoration, the bullet holes remain visible from battles between Maoris and settlers - pointing out the troubled past. Wooden, white panelling on the exterior is undeniably quaint but the Graveyard with historical headstones and an eerie creepiness ain't! The Zig Zag walkway had me turn into a wheezy, little lady as it was energy-consuming to slog uphill.
The stately residence Pompallier Mission, purchased by Heritage NZ in 1941 appealed to the bookworm in me. It once 'served as the headquarters to the French Catholic mission' and is named after Jean Baptiste Pompallier, an apostolic vicar. We were taught the authentic process of how books were bound from the urine-soaked cow hides in the tannery ewwww (grotesquely the urine was often HUMAN!! Double EWWWW) to the printer. It contains the original printing press which published over 30,000 books and tracts mainly religious in content, some of the first in the Maori language. I printed out an illustration using an inked stamp on the press and was fascinated to learn how several expressions derived from the printing industry. E.g. a dab hand, mind your p's and q's and to quoin a phrase (as it was in those days not 'coin')
HARD TO LEAVE THE GLOWING COVES BEHIND -
Pompallier's pretty heritage gardens were fervidly flourishing with technicoloured buds of spring flowers and snowdrops, thriving in bright sunshine. I didn't stay for sunset as I'd seen everything I'd wished to by 4.30pm and the sky looked overcast by that interval. Russell is the type of place you could stay for the rest of your life. As I returned on the ferry, the operator told me of his woes as he'd only sold $200 worth of tickets that day which just barely covers fuel costs. He thought it was his slowest day in 20 years of operation but since he can rake in $3500 during peak season, he can't whinge. What a lovely life and business he has!
The next morning, I was sad to leave Paihia as I fell in love, SO in love with it there! However, I was glad to be getting back to my favourite little posse. Rachel was kind to pick me up from the bus station so I could spend some time with her and the Keyes as they let me stay at their house for a few nights before my sister flew out.
Rachel, her friend John and I went to one of Rachel's favourite noodle places as a trio. My spicy chicken noodle broth was like a warm embrace; I slurped it everywhere as it was difficult to spoon up. Only I could splash scalding broth and chilli into my eyeball, momentarily blinding it so I had to rinse it out immediately. That was not incredible (!)
Originally, the three of us and Graham couldn't be bothered to go to the dance party but Zani and Jess persuaded us to put in an appearance. It was 80's/90's throwback themed so I wore an outfit full of NEON and felt a tad foolish as most hadn't dressed for the occasion. The music was all old school r n' b which was creating a chilled vibe and I can't dance to those jams. We left early as we didn't feel compelled to boogie the night away but it was good to catch up with some friends.
