The solstice is one of our most favorite, sacred holidays. Especially the summer version. So we were pleased when we realized that by relocating to the Southern Hemisphere for the winter, we’d get to celebrate two summer solstices in the same year.
We spent the night like we have many others: on a grassy knoll, listening to birdsong, watching the sky turn red, and raising our glasses to the long days.
We came to Waiheke to eat seafood for two months. So we were stunned when we got here and found none. Oh sure, a restaurant will have an occasional fish special. And the supermarket has live greenlip mussels—but it´s on the other side of the island.
When we politely decry the situation to locals, we´re fed the same phrases that keep getting repeated around the world: “It´s fished out / fishermen can´t make it anymore / you have to go to______.” Fortunately, that wasn´t the case in Auckland, where we enjoyed several seaworthy meals. And on our way out of town, we headed to the place everyone told us we had to go to: SeaMart, where we scored prawns, a 2-pound crayfish tail, sushi-fresh red-eye tuna, and a big snapper steak. Then we ferried home, fired up the barby, and ate up for lost time.
After nearly a month on our quiet island, we were ready to get gobsmacked by the city—which, incredibly, is just a 30-minute ferry ride away. Auckland winds around the water, with neighborhoods stretching up streets, hills, and dormant volcanoes. No matter where you go, you see the Sky Tower—the city´s new and rather controversial compass.
It´s stacked with restaurants, observatories, and a casino that goes garish at night. We found its omnipresence both unnerving and reassuring. (It was framed perfectly in the window above the toilet in our B&B, for example.) And it found its way into many of our shots. Next time we visit the city, we´ll have to get inside and get a closer look.
We came to Waiheke to eat seafood for two months. So we were stunned when we got here and found none. Oh sure, a restaurant will have an occasional fish special. And the supermarket has live greenlip mussels—but it’s on the other side of the island.
When we politely decry the situation to locals, we’re fed the same phrases that keep getting repeated around the world: “It’s fished out / fishermen can’t make it anymore / you have to go to______.” Fortunately, that wasn’t the case in Auckland, where we enjoyed several seaworthy meals. And on our way out of town, we headed to the place everyone told us we had to go to: SeaMart, where we scored prawns, a 2-pound crayfish tail, sushi-fresh red-eye tuna, and a big snapper steak. Then we ferried home, fired up the barby, and ate up for lost time.
It´s hard to believe that Auckland has less than a million people. Her city streets are brimming with stylish bistros, hip clubs, quaint shops, and funky cafes—and so are her many suburbs.
Some of them might be left over from last spring´s America´s Cup, which drew thousands of international visitors, but one gets the sense that the happy inhabitants of the City of Sails actually get out and enjoy its ample charms. We were impressed by the appealing neighborhoods and enticing shopfronts, the rich diversity, and the quaint yet cosmopolitan nature of the place, which these photos only begin to convey.
It’s hard to believe that Auckland has less than a million people. Her city streets are brimming with stylish bistros, hip clubs, quaint shops, and funky cafes—and so are her many suburbs.
Some of them might be left over from last spring’s America’s Cup, which drew thousands of international visitors, but one gets the sense that the happy inhabitants of the City of Sails actually get out and enjoy its ample charms. We were impressed by the appealing neighborhoods and enticing shopfronts, the rich diversity, and the quaint yet cosmopolitan nature of the place, which these photos only begin to convey.
After nearly a month on our quiet island, we were ready to get gobsmacked by the city—which, incredibly, is just a 30-minute ferry ride away. Auckland winds around the water, with neighborhoods stretching up streets, hills, and dormant volcanoes. No matter where you go, you see the Sky Tower—the city’s new and rather controversial compass.
It’s stacked with restaurants, observatories, and a casino that goes garish at night. We found its omnipresence both unnerving and reassuring. (It was framed perfectly in the window above the toilet in our B&B, for example.) And it found its way into many of our shots. Next time we visit the city, we’ll have to get inside and get a closer look.
Being in the southern hemisphere is a bit disorienting. The face of the moon is unfamiliar. The best sun exposure is to the north. And it´s full-on summer here, just when things are getting most frigid„and festive–at home.
One lovely tradition is called Carols by Candlelight. Throughout Auckland—perhaps New Zealand—families gather when the sun goes down (about 8:30) in parks and on beaches to light candles and sing songs of the season. Here on Waiheke, the gathering took place on a neighboring beach and featured, among other things, a local church choir, a brass band, an American folk singer, drummers and fire dancers, and hundreds of people scattered on blankets along the curving bay. In a true celebration of diversity, some held Bibles while others went BYOB. We sang along and struggled to keep our candles lit in the wind. It was mostly impossible. But the glow of the night was undiminished and we felt, in a small way, utterly connected to the most meaningful holiday moments we are missing at home.
Being in the southern hemisphere is a bit disorienting. The face of the moon is unfamiliar. The best sun exposure is to the north. And it’s full-on summer here, just when things are getting most frigid—and festive—at home.
So how do the Kiwis celebrate? One lovely tradition is called Carols by Candlelight. Throughout Auckland—perhaps New Zealand—families gather when the sun goes down (about 8:30) in parks and on beaches to light candles and sing songs of the season. Here on Waiheke, the gathering took place on a neighboring beach and featured, among other things, a local church choir, a brass band, an American folk singer, drummers and fire dancers, and hundreds of people scattered on blankets along the curving bay. In a true celebration of diversity, some held Bibles while others went BYOB. We sang along and struggled to keep our candles lit in the wind. It was mostly impossible. But the glow of the night was undiminished and we felt, in a small way, utterly connected to the most meaningful holiday moments we are missing at home.
Waiheke Island, New Zealand. The best thing about living on a beach is probably the sound of the surf. On a good morning, it almost drowns out the 7 am hammering at the homesite right behind us.
But another bonus is the endless collection of shells and sea creatures the rising tide deposits on the shore twice a day. We´ve seen giant jellyfish and starfish. Hermit crabs and clams. Jackpots of sand dollars. Here are a few pieces that we´ve collected. Of course, we´ll return them to the sea (per NZ law) when we leave this lovely place.
1 kid, 5 islands, 69 days
Here's my son’s blog from an '08/09 BreakAway in the Caribbean.
1 planet, countless cultures, 120 days
In 00/01, when the internet was a pup, I went RTW and posted these words and pics en route.
