Enroute to Wellington II

A tranquil scene at Lake Taupo, Saturday, Dec. 5, around 8:30 pm (yes, it's springtime here, and the evenings are light till then).

What has been most striking about NZ so far? The incredible combination of wild and open scenery and very polite social order, as if manners still followed pre-war British custom. But that is not to say that things aren't up to date in NZ. I was very impressed at the wine shop in Lake Taupo by a large circular display with various spigots dispensing tastings of wine for a price. The type of wine and quality were up to the customer, who is instructed to insert a pre-paid "Enocard" into the machine, like selecting the grade of gasoline at the pump, by the wine of choice, which was then debited for the cost. Prices per tasting varied from NZ$1.80 for a modest sauvignon blanc to NZ$5.50 for a rarer Chateau Petreus. Allowing you to taste before buying seems a simple but innovative solution, particularly for someone like me who typically chooses wine by the label (penguins and monkeys connoting an especially fine vintage).

Headed south through wild terrain today-- thanks to our unduly creative GPS machine, which selected the most winding, largely unpaved climb off the main highway imaginable (I guess it was technically shorter as the crow flies but, unfortunately, our beat-up Toyota Corolla from Rent-a-Dent did not appreciate these finer points). But the view it offered was incredible-- lush green terraced hills with grazing sheep. Here's a glimpse:

Finally back on pavement, we continued to the little town of Bulls, which makes the most of its name in all sorts of ways, as per these directional signs. Stopped for coffee, which involves rather baffling Kiwi terminology. "Do you want a flat white? A tall black?" To disguise my utter ignorance, I simply ordered old faithful--a latte-- but I must crack the system before too long. On to Otaki, to the Icebreaker discount store, as we were warned by friends in Auckland that woolen wear is essential in Wellington at all times. (They were rather leery of our choice of Wellington, given the reputation of its climate conditions, but this could be attributable to a longstanding urban rivalry, like St. Louis and Chicago).

So what was Wellington like when we finally arrived, and is it really as windy as they say? Find out in tomorrow's blog.