Wellington is affectionately dubbed Windy Wellington due to its close proximity to the Cook Strait and unpredictable weather patterns. Much like Melbourne, Australia, you can easily experience all four seasons in a day. I've seen first hand how it can go from an idyllic, warm, sunny morning to a blustery, windy, winter afternoon, all in the course of several hours. When I refer to wind, I'm not talking about a light breath of breeze. No, it howls gale force here. In fact, as I sit here writing this, it's a beautiful sunny day with a few scattered clouds breaking the sound barrier across the sky!
Wellington is a hilly city with plenty of snaking roads. From my experience so far, the suburbs of Hataitai and Brooklyn have turns so sharp that it's like making a 180 degree U-turn! As you climb to any altitude around town, you can't help notice the spectacular views of the harbor and ocean. It is positively breathtaking. But hey, what do you expect from the city where they filmed Lord of the Rings?
TRANSITIONS
The minute you leave Wellington, everything quickly converts to sheep-speckled rolling green countryside—a stark contrast in comparison to the Southern California concrete jungle. The motorway passes through quaint little communities on the way to the Kapiti Coast. The communities of Porirua and Paraparamu have their fair share of strip malls and auto dealerships, but it's not obnoxious and sprawling by any means. It's just about adequate to support the surrounding population without going over the top.
FAHRVERGNUGEN
Driving is an absolute pleasure here. I immediately noticed the slower pace of traffic and the conspicuous absence of cars tailgating up the ass end of our truck. In New Zealand, we drive on the left and pass on the right. For some reason, drivers here "get it." They actually pass and move back over to the left. The passing lane is almost ALWAYS clear. For some reason, all New Zealand citizens can grasp that concept yet in California, even with six lanes of highway going each way, people still feel compelled to make the numbers one and two lanes their own private cruising lanes.
This commentary would not be complete without a comment on the efficiency of merging. When two lanes merge into one, drivers somehow seem to back off and take turns. There's no overt "me first" mentality here. It's more like, "yeah mate, no worries. Go ahead and merge in front of me. I've got nowhere to be in a hurry." In short, New Zealanders seem to understand that if we all demonstrate a little common courtesy we all get where we're going a lot quicker.HOME
We pulled up to Bob and Verena's home in Paekakariki a short while later. They live in a quaint
little remodeled home on The Parade, the oceanfront drive that runs along the Tasman Sea coastline. There's such a sense of community here. Neighbors know one another. They peacefully push their strollers with a dog in tow. In my experience so far, everyone walking by looks up, smiles, and actually says hello. In many ways, there's still an unspoiled element of human connectedness that was probably last seen in America in the 1950s.
COLLAPSE
My body finally gave out on me after arriving home to Paekakariki. That night I fell ill with profuse body aches and a sore throat. I'd been running on fumes the final few weeks leading up to my departure for New Zealand. I somehow juggled the arduous task of packing up my entire life, selling off anything that would yield a buck or two, a family/business trip back to the east coast, and working at cardiac rehab right up to the bitter end. I think the plane ride was the straw that broke the camel's back. No matter what airline you fly, the economy class seats are meticulously engineered so that no matter what contorted position you attempt, you'll never quite get so comfortable as to get any meaningful REM sleep. It was a very full flight so I couldn't even score "ghetto first class", a row of seats with the armrests pulled up. I didn't stand a Democrat's chance running for the White House after sucking refried cabin air for 12 hours and shielding myself from those grungy filth-spewing virus fans. I went down for the count for a few days, finally coming back to good by Sunday/Monday (19th /20th November).
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My body finally gave out on me after arriving home to Paekakariki. That night I fell ill with profuse body aches and a sore throat. I'd been running on fumes the final few weeks leading up to my departure for New Zealand. I somehow juggled the arduous task of packing up my entire life, selling off anything that would yield a buck or two, a family/business trip back to the east coast, and working at cardiac rehab right up to the bitter end. I think the plane ride was the straw that broke the camel's back. No matter what airline you fly, the economy class seats are meticulously engineered so that no matter what contorted position you attempt, you'll never quite get so comfortable as to get any meaningful REM sleep. It was a very full flight so I couldn't even score "ghetto first class", a row of seats with the armrests pulled up. I didn't stand a Democrat's chance running for the White House after sucking refried cabin air for 12 hours and shielding myself from those grungy filth-spewing virus fans. I went down for the count for a few days, finally coming back to good by Sunday/Monday (19th /20th November).
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