Pacific, Australia and New Zealand 2019 - part six

Back to Australia and in Melbourne, Richard, extraordinarily grateful for his Toronto raccoon gifts, hosts me again. 

We head out of the city.

Richard treats me to a very good lunch and we later visit Rosebud and the Rosebud Hotel with its deco-ish touches.

In 1939, the hotel was the height of modernity with “coloured blinds …Radio Control and complete Telephone Service (sic).” There were also “… chromium-plated fittings (and) an automatic fountain which plays a spray of perfumed water, and is illuminated by varying colours …”

The town of Rosebud long predates Citizen Kane, released two years after the hotel opened. However, as I’ve never encountered any other place named Rosebud, it immediately brought to mind the film's final scene:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrtEFCMuuZI&feature=youtu.be

Whether the movie resulted in more business for the hotel, I don’t know.

Onto Sydney and a short stay before my flight home. The day’s headlines are grim.

From the ship, smoke haze is all too evident. However, by local standards, I’m arriving when the situation has been (and certainly again will be) far worse.

Last minute wandering includes the Queen Victoria Building’s splendid 19th Century loo …

… and some street photography.

21st Century Australian version of a sandwich board man.

Street preachers always attract my attention, although I stand well back in hopes of not attracting theirs.

‘A’ for enthusiasm, if not, in my case, for persuasion.

The trip’s final shot. Not your quintessential Aussie picture, but the 2019 Year of the Pig pig is jolly and, as I write this, it’s nearly the next Chinese New Year.

_________________________

Despite much bad news since returning home, I’ll conclude with a quote from the November 30, 2019 New Zealand Listener, the country’s main news magazine:

“The fact that we still trust our fellow humans enough to use public swimming pools gives me hope for the future of humanity.” Kiwi comedian Guy Williams 

Pacific, Australia and New Zealand 2019 - part five

Any place with a fountain in memory of a dog gets my vote. 

In the 1930s Paddy the Wanderer made his home on the Wellington docks.

Much loved by locals, Paddy had a slap-up funeral. And money was raised for a fountain for dogs - and humans.

Wellington provides more reasons for plaudits. It has splendid manhole covers …

…  and some wonderful 1930s buildings.

It also has a marvellous, pre-war railway station where I take this picture in the main booking hall.

On the less marvellous side, Wellington has scooters for rent. I consider them a pedestrian menace and am sorry to hear they may be coming to Toronto

In 1931, Napier, on the North Island’s east coast, had an earthquake even worse than Christchurch’s. More than 250 died and the town was levelled. Despite the devastation, Napier was rebuilt in remarkably quick order. And in a style that today means it’s one of the world’s best examples of art deco.

Local newspaper.

Hawkes Bay Chambers, a law firm.

Futuristic light pole at the former Ministry of Works.

My favourite, at least for the name.

And this 1933 building, although not strictly art deco, more classical revival. I just like the bird.

Napier is another New Zealand town with stylish manhole covers. The sunrise motif was popular in the Thirties.

Arriving in Tauranga, we pass Mount Maunganui - more a high hill - and onlookers.

Once on shore about the only picture I much like is this one on a bluff overlooking the beach.

Auckland, where I’ve had happy visits over the years, provides another manhole cover …

… street art …

… and locals out for Saturday lunch in the sun.

Kathy and Michael, who helped make this trip so enjoyable, disembark for a month in New Zealand and the Cook Islands. I return to Australia. 

The trip back allows reading of a purchase from a secondhand bookshop in Hawaii. On a ‘mixed bag’ shelf I came across a tattered 1968 paperback copy of Norman Mailer’s The Idol and the Octopus. Acerbic sketches of Kennedy, Johnson, his thoughts ‘On the Womanization of America’ and ‘A Cure for Juvenile Delinquency’ pass the time. 

Among the shipboard acquaintances I’ve made is a lady who happened to witness the aftermath of a long ago murder I covered at the Royal York, Toronto’s grand old hotel. We reminisce about blood stains on the carpet. The stories I could tell ...

Next and final post covers Melbourne and Sydney.

Pacific, Australia and New Zealand 2019 - part four

Not far from Christchurch is the glorious Banks Peninsula. 

Before leaving Canada, I’d arranged to join Jeff, the local postman, on his 120 kilometre route.

This is the best of days. Not only tourist brochure sheep and scenery (the ship is in the far distance) ...

.., but introduction to New Zealand postboxes.

Here a microwave and spatula …

… and a little house …

… there one that’s not recently seen many deliveries.

Along the mail route, a quirky store operating for more than a century …

… village verandah …

… and empty beach.

In a lovely little Anglican church is a memorial to a young New Zealander who died in the disastrous Gallipoli campaign. He ‘fell fighting for his friends, his country and the Empire at Rhododendron Hill …’ 

Aside from another time’s language, I leave thinking of Gallipoli Rhododendrons - there is such a flower - shredded mid human carnage.

The following day, in Picton, a busy South Island port, I am scrutinized while walking …

… to a modest, but deservedly well reputed, pie shop …

… overseen by a lady I can only describe as a real character. Stuffed with pie and local gossip …

… I’m ready for another mail run, this one on a small boat serving remote locations inaccessible by road.

Not only is mail received and sent, but dogs know the mailboat means a treat from the postman.

No treat for the seal …

… or oystercatcher …

… or dolphins, which nonetheless companionably escort us back to town.

One last outing in Picton, a jaunt on the splendid Marlborough Flier with its 1915 engine…

… called Passchendaele, another futile Great War battle with an evocative name, one in which Canadians also died in their thousands.

Along with my pie shop acquaintance, train engineer Phil Wagener stands out as one of this trip’s characters. 

Phil’s nickname, by the way, is ‘Teapot’. I’ll leave you to guess why.

Next post, New Zealand’s North Island.