What - no rugby?

After eight matches, forty five cans of Speights and twenty serves of fish and chips in three days, it was a compulsory time-out on Monday and Tuesday for the liver, the larynx and the eyeballs to recover. But how on earth were we going to survive until the next scheduled matches on Wednesday? And one of those three Wednesday matches will be the highly anticipated Scotland v Georgia match we are to attend in Invercargill tomorrow. Could we survive two whole days with no rugby to watch? Well, time to get act together and focus on sorting out the last vestiges of Georgia supporters gear to take south i.e we needed a pole for the metre-wide Georgian flag and we needed red and white face paint. That's a big ask when the England team is in Dunedin with 15000 English fans for three whole weeks and they've all painted their faces for the Argie match.

Enzo the Apache awaits call to action

Monday dawned grey but fine (see above) and Fi swished open the curtains, lapped up the view and (leaving Mike raising zeds) jumped into Enzo the Apache and headed to South Dunedin to shop for postcards, stamps and stuff Georgian. She came back instead with an official Wallabies Tshirt for Mike for AUD25. Then we shot back into central Dunedin in Enzo and had a blue cod and chips and Bluff oyster lunch at the Best Cafe in Stuart Street. This cafe has no website but it has the best fish and chips on the planet, no joke. Laminate tables, only ten items on the menu, the interiors look like a blastback from 1962 but the food is amazing. We staggered over to the i-site tourist bureau for info on local walks, got some face paint and drove home up the hill and started the blog. Mike dished up mutton stew from the slow cooker for dinner and we cranked up the heating in preparation for a Tuesday that promised some snow on the hilltops and some truly icy southerlies.

Tuesday (today) was bitingly cold but clear, a maximum of eight degrees. No snow, but a wind chill factor of -15. Another retail therapy day. Bunnings provided us with poly pipe for the flag, we bought a daggy coffee table at a South Dunedin flea shop and we had lunch at Delicacy again after a one hour tromp around the Dunedin Botanic Gardens where magnolias, rhododendrons and daffs were in glorious bloom. We visited the aviary which had several specimens of toucan, a really cranky white cocky and a very busy kea (digging below). There were also lots of very colourful finches and there is a very attractive picture of the derriere of one below:

Kea digging his way to China

Orange finchy thingo

Mike blogged all afternoon so Fi took off in Enzo to visit Aramoana via Port Chalmers. She noted the Carey's Bay Hotel as a future potential site for lunch and was struck by how Port Chalmers with its massive wharf cranes and Victorian-era buildings looked much as Fremantle must have looked back in the 1950s. She froze while walking on the old jetty at Aramoana but was greeted by a curious seal on her return to the car so that sort of made up for the blue fingers. The albatrosses from neighbouring Taiaroa Head were nowhere to be seen. So back up the hill home again and it was stew for dinner, Chris Tarrant on the TV and hot apple pies from the Danish patisserie in Hillside Road for supper while watching the full moon rise over the Otago Peninsula from our eyrie. A three hour drive to Invercargill in the morning, two matches to watch at the pub and then we don triple layers of everything to survive eighty minutes of Scotland v Georgia. We'll be two of probably twenty people dressed in red at the match, the Scots of course will be in navy blue. Gagimarjos Sakartvelos!

Sunday - And Australia Make It On Stage

Unsurprisingly, we both slept in a bit on Sunday.  In fact, the majority of the morning was cancelled due to lack of interest, but that wasn't a problem because there were no matches until mid-afternoon.  So we decided to get a breath of fresh air (and it was definitely fresher than Saturday by about -5 degrees) and headed off to brunch and a walk in the park. 

Brunch took us to the other side of town, to a locality called Maori Hill.  There, next to a roundabout, sits Delicacy Cafe, a comfortable and very pleasant cafe.  Following harissa potatoes with bacon and spinach (me) and frittata and salad (Fi) we headed down the hill to check out the Woodhaugh Gardens, that run alongsides the Waters of Leith (lovely name for a stream).  There are some stands of Kahikatea trees, originally common (in the Palaeozoic), but now rare.  They are one of NZ's tallest native trees, reaching heights of up to 55 m.  We also got to see our first glimpse of a native New Zealand pigeon.  This gorgeously coloured bird grows to half a metre long, and can weigh up to 700g - a very big (ha you mean FAT) pigeon.  Unfortunately, it refused to sit still long enough to be photographed, so you'll have to be satisfied with this link for the time being.

Mike ready for an inconspicuous assault on a NZ rugby club

So then it was back home to scrub up and put on the Wallabies party gear.  Off to the game.  The venue was, of course, Pirates.  After arriving and going through the usual fortifying rituals, we settled down next to some other Australian supporters (Linda and Peter from Ferndale in Perth).  The anthem started, and the four of us stood and sang out loudly, tunefully, but only partially in time as we were drowning out the sound from the speakers.  Some good natured ribbing from the assembled crowd deterred us not one iota!  Nobody joined in the Italian national anthem.  You should all know the result by now, but we made sure to make loud noises whenever Australia did well. Australian mistakes were greeted with raucous repartee by the Pirate locals. 

Linda and Peter went off to do washing things, and we stayed on to watch the Ireland vs USA match.  We got to meet Nicki and John from Rangiora (near Christchurch), along with their kids - Sophie, Max, Jeff, and Martha (aged 4).  Martha and Fi rapidly formed a mutual admiration society while the serious supporters watched the match unfold.  Nicki and John left at half time to put the children to bed.  We had a good chat to Kiwi Dave and devoured seafood and chips washed down with Speights and no-name ssb.

We had booked a table at Salt for dinner and planned to watch the final match of the weekend there - Wales vs South Africa.  We arrived to find all of today's friends there - John & Nicki and Linda & Peter, and joined John and Nicki at their table for dinner.  It was sobering to hear personal stories of the impact of the Christchurch earthquake.  None of Nicki or John's family or friends had lost anyone, but there were plenty of close escapes.  John and Nicki's house is liveable, but the quake collapsed their septic tank (a MOST unpleasant experience) which was soon replaced.  However, the house, while liveable, has cracks through most of the walls (from last September's quake, a year ago), and they have no idea when someone will be around to assess the damage, let alone start work on compensation or repair.

However, back to the match.  It was a close match that was there for Wales to take, but in the end, it went to South Africa after a penalty kick from Wales was ruled wide.  A tableful of Welsh supporters added local commentary to the match and leavened it with some beautiful singing including Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau and Lead Me O Thou Great Redeemer. 

Alas the day ended.  John, Nicki and family were heading back to Rangiora on Monday, but I'm sure we'll bump into Peter and Linda again next week.

Once more up the Bradford St hill and to bed.

Opening Day

Well, this post will compress the first half of a weekend of rugby that included the opening ceremony, seven televised games and one live game.

So the first question was - where should you watch rugby in NZ?  The correct answer is "in a rugby club". 

Having been tipped off by Chris Erikson (thanks Chris), we descended on Pirates Rugby Club in St Kilda, Dunedin. There is a long history to this club - in fact several years longer than the state of Western Australia has had self government - and the statement in the second paragraph of their website "Pirates is a very friendly rugby club located at Hancock Park in St Kilda, Dunedin" is personally verified! 

The front door at Pirates

So we headed down to Starfish on Friday night for lamb burgers and Emersons before the opening ceremony.  All the cafes and restaurants in the area were packed with rugby fans sporting the colours of several nations.  Arriving at Pirates, we seated ourselves in the auditorium, got the necessary supplies (four cans of beer - a minimum order no less), met the neigbours (Kevin and Steve plus their deserving partners from Adelaide, whose names, along with many others, have since fallen by the wayside due to too many late nights, barely adequate amounts of beer and old age) and settled down to watch an excellent opening ceremony, followed by a good opening match, with Tonga taking it right up to the All Blacks.  There were about 200 people crammed into "the Auditorium"  and about another 100 or so watching on screens closer to the bar and the atmosphere was fabulous.

"The Auditorium" at Pirates between games

Some eight of the 200 fans in The Auditorium wore Tongan colours, but one lady was having an each way bet as she wore her Tongan jersey over an All Blacks shirt.

The final whistle sounded but we stayed for the raffle draw (free tickets) and, for the second time in 30 years, I won something! A four pack of Speights beer!  So we shared it around before a brisk walk back to car, and up the hill for a quick cuppa and bed.

A rainy Saturday in Dunedin

Saturday dawned sunny and clear and a full day of rugby was scheduled - four matches, an hour between each and the last match of the day was to be England vs Argentina live at the brand new Otago Stadium.

A bus was available from Pirates to the ground, but we wanted to check out some other bars so we headed to Salt Bar for the first match (Scotland vs Romania) and I reacquainted myself with Speight's Dark.  After a shaky win to Scotland, we girded our loins and headed back to Pirates for Fiji vs Namibia (great game) and the first half of France vs Japan.

At half time, we climbed on the bus with about 20 others and headed off for Otago Stadium. The back row of the bus was in fine (singing) voice.

First view of the stadium

The stadium is VERY impressive.  It is fully enclosed, with real grass and it seats 30,000 fans and was constructed at a cost of NZD198 million.  Not bad when you consider we currently have an uncompleted mouldy 14,000 seater tennis stadium in Perth at a cost of $AUD600 million.  As you approach at night, the view of the stadium is spectacular. The approach roads were filled with fans, many decorated in English or Argentinian face paint and wigs and we filed through the gates into the stands.

Fiona in the stands

The place was awash with English and Argentinian flags and as the crowd gathered, the singing and dancing slowly started to increase and this was emphasised by the closed  roof. Many of the Dunedin local lads were supporting Argentina because of the somewhat unfathomable decision by the English management to adopt an all black strip for a World Cup in New Zealand.  Talk about putting yourself behind the eight ball with the locals!

Here is a quick shot of Fiona in the stands (supporting Georgia). We had a fabulous view of the playing field. We were soon surrounded by England fans on Fi's left and Dunedin locals supporting Argentina on our right.  The shot below is a panoramic view of what we saw!

The inside of the stadium

The pre-match entertainment was the New Zealand Army Band, who were excellent musicians and dancers and kept the crowd entertained while the players warmed up.  Then the choir emerged and finally the players took the field.  The noise was deafening, in fact the noise was so deafening that Fi didn't use her referee radio due to the feedback loop - whoever designed the stadium designed the acoustics brilliantly.  Anthems were sung enthusiatically by both sides (some of the words being sung by NZ Argentinian supporters were suspiciously like ooo-aaaah) and the game got underway.

To quote one rugby writer, "It was not pretty, but, heavens, it was engrossing, and it ended with many if-onlys."  It is rare, at this level of rugby, to see eleven missed penalties or conversions in a match, especially when six of them were missed by Johnny Wilkinson.  In the end, England won although not by much.  A great first live game to start our "eight live games" tournament.

The bus home enabled us to reacquaint ourselves with Richard and Steve (see above) and their partners and to meet some locals as well.  After waving goodbye, we drove up the hill and collapsed into bed.

Getting There

So we're finally here! After about eighteen months of planning and interruptions.  Despite all that has happened (Christchurch earthquake appeal found here ),we've arrived and we're excited and looking forward to the feast of rugby, beer, wine, food and people that the next six weeks holds.  

Departure was at midnight. The pilot joyously announced that conditions were favourable for a fast flight across the continent to Sydney.  Just what you want to hear when trying to get some sleep while anticipating the five hour drive which would be required after landing in Christchurch.  We rolled ourselves in our blankets and tried to sleep.  When we surfaced three hours later, we were in the Greater Sydney Holding Pattern - this is generated every morning by a flock of planes trying to land as close to the 6:00 am lifting of the curfew as possible.  We landed about twenty minutes late (consternation) and then disembarkation was held up by a medical emergency two rows ahead of us.  The gentleman concerned made it off the plane safely into the custody of paramedics from the NSW ambulance service.

Then came our Husain Bolt-like sprint to catch the outbound flight to Christchurch.  We raced to the transfer lounge and waited for the bus to tour us through the tortuous innards of Sydney airport as we travelled from the domestic terminal to Terminal One for our international flight.  A rapid transit through immigration and down interminable airport corridors finally got us on board, gasping. Then the plane sat for forty minutes at the gate while they sorted a lugggage issue.

A couple of hours snooze later and we descend at lunchtime over the beautiful snow-capped peaks of the South Island alps into Christchurch and find that Qantas has fulfilled the old British Airways joke - breakfast in Sydney, lunch in Christchurch, (some) baggage in Auckland!  Fi's distinctive blue suitcase was laying early claim to being the most travelled item on this trip.  However, the nice Air New Zealand lady at the Lost Baggage counter in Christchurch assured us that said suitcase would appear at the door of our house in Dunedin the next day.  This we took on board with some (well concealed) scepticism.

Then the wonderful Mark at the Budget rental car counter made us feel very welcome and introduced us to Enzo the Holden Epica - soon to be our constant companion for the next several weeks.

Enzo eagerly awaiting his next tussle with Dunedins hills

We headed down Route 1 from Christchurch to Dunedin - an uneventful trip broken by a coffee break in Ashburton. We rolled into a dark rainy Dunedin about 8 pm.  Before tackling the task of finding our accommodation, we decided to fortify the inner being with food before ascending to our new home base. So we stopped off at the Starfish, a nice cafe/bar/restaurant on the beach at St Clair.  We had visited there on our previous trip to South Island and were delighted to find out that the food, beer and service continued to be excellent.  Then we headed up the hill to find our shelter.

After some casting about, we found the driveway and cautiously edged down it, caution being encouraged by darkness, rain, an unfamiliar car, a narrow driveway and what looked like a 400 m plummet to the plains below.  We got to the house, went in and were greeted by the spectacle of Dunedin by night spread out in all its glory before us through the picture lounge windows (TV for scale):

 

Mike unpacked, there was a cup of tea and then there was the usual sniffing in all the corners, opening of cupboards etc, the starting of the "feeling at home" process.  So wonderfully sleep-deprived and completely stuffed after the five hour drive, a taster of duty-free whiskey enabled us to collapse into bed, even though it was still afternoon by the body clock.  

More to come later!