We're back in Paris safe and sound now, but we still have a lot of pictures and New Zealand-related stories to share. Here are a few of them.
(
See parts 1 and 2 of our journey to New Zealand, and Talia's writing.)
In case you forgot the backstory, I was invited to the University of Canterbury by a former colleague to finish up a linguistics project we've had going for several years. It had stalled and delayed, but setting aside some time to work together intensely on the project was a fantastic idea. This arrangement meant that I was working at the university most of the time, with free weekends to travel, while Talia amused herself around Christchurch and other places.
You may have heard of Christchurch as being the location of a devastating series of earthquakes in 2010 and 2011. Around 185 people died, and the historic centre of the city lost over a third of its buildings. The effects of the earthquake still loom large in the city. The centre of the town was basically closed for over a year, while workers destroyed the damaged and dangerous buildings. Many of the eastern suburbs, built on marshland, underwent liquefaction and became uninhabitable. The consequent loss of homes, plus the influx of aid and construction workers, lead to a housing crisis. The city is still rebuilding, and even now there is construction all over the place.
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| The current state of the Christchurch Cathedral. |
One of the first weekend trips we took was out to Akaroa, a beautiful seaside town on the Banks peninsula. Akaroa has a curious history - it was originally settled by French colonists. In 1840, the
Treaty of Waitangi was signed, which established all of New Zealand as being under British sovereignty. A few weeks later, with news of the treaty not having reached Europe, a group of French colonists (and a few Germans) set sail for New Zealand, hoping to establish an outcrop of the French Empire. When they arrived, 5 months later(!), they learned the islands were now British. They decided to stay anyway, and form a little French village.
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| The local butcher's shop. |
Today, the village is very proud of its French heritage, with the French tricolour flying all over the place. I think they also play up the French connection as a tourist attraction, a quaint little slice of France on the other side of the world. We actually heard a lot of French being spoken, too, but it was all from tourists. The main vestige of the French origins of the town is in the street names.
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| It's like we're back in Paris! |
The Banks peninsula, where Akaroa is, was formed by a series of volcanoes, and has very dramatic hills right beside the sea, leading to a beautiful landscape. The gentle turquoise colour of the sea also adds a lot. It's easy to see why this is a popular holiday destination for Kiwis, and why so many people have second homes here!
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| The view from the top of the Akaroa lighthouse. |
After our trip to Akaroa, Talia went to visit Dunedin, the south island's second largest city, often called "the Edinburgh of the South" for its strong Scottish connections. I'll let her write that post in the future.
Finally, we took a trip out to the west coast. This involves driving through the Southern Alps to emerge at the rainforested area on the other side. The mountains act as a rain trap, apparently, keeping the west coast very wet and the area east of the mountains relatively dry. Our first stop, in the foothills of the mountain range, was Castle Hill, a set of large limestone boulders arrayed around some hills, which from a distance resemble a ruined castle. The area of is of spiritual significance to the Maori, and apparently the Dalai Lama referred to it as the "spiritual centre of the universe".
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| Limestone rocks. |
On our way through the mountains, we were lucky to spot a wild Kea. These endangered birds, unique to New Zealand's south island, are the world's only alpine parrot.
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| You can't see it in this picture, but it's actually perched atop an informative sign saying "Protect our Keas!" with information on their habitat and instructions not to feed or disturb them. |
We finally reached the west coast, greeted by roaring waves (really really big waves) and a beautiful sunset.
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| Getting close as we are to the southern hemisphere summer solstice, this picture was taken at about 9:40pm. |
The next day, we visited the Pancake Rocks, named because they look like stacks of pancakes. The ocean runs around and through these rocks, leading to some "blowholes" where water just bursts up into the air from a surging wave. It's really very spectacular.
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| No maple syrup, unfortunately. |
Later that day we made our way back to Christchurch. The rain prevented us from getting good pictures of the mountains, but I'm fairly sure they were still there.
The pictures we've shown here have been mainly of the landscape, but the people and culture of New Zealand are very agreeable too. They're very friendly and in no danger of taking themselves too seriously, which I think is by virtue of being rather a sparsely populated country, like Scotland. There also appears to be a lack of regard for traditional barriers like class and religion - people are people - that reminded me of some of the attributes I like about the USA. Still, it's not reducible down to simply attributes of other cultures; New Zealand culture is fiercely unique and it's clear that they are proud to be who they are, living in a beautiful country in the south Pacific.
Spring is in full swing here and we are trying to make the most of
the two and a half months we have left in France. Although we're
eager for our Hawaiian adventure to begin, there is so much of France
left to see and experience. Having a baby made us put some trips and
activities on hold, but we're back in the game now. So yesterday we
took a trip with two of our good friends to the tiny village of
Giverny.
Giverny was the home of Claude Monet, the renowned late-nineteenth
and early-twentieth-century Impressionist painter. The village of
Giverny is in the southeast
of the Normandy region of France, and Monet moved to a house there in
1883 at the age of forty-three. By this time, he was already well
into developing his new Impressionist
style, a disparaging term coined by an art critic in 1874 after an
exhibition of his and other similar artists' work. Monet was
attempting to artistically document the French landscape using a
method of painting that conveyed his impressions and perceptions of
the scenery, rather than striving for realism. Much of his progress
in exploring this new style occurred at his home in Giverny.
Monet designed and created elaborate gardens on the land
surrounding his house. As he sold more paintings and his wealth
increased, he was also able to add a water lily pond, the one that
would figure so prominently in his later works. His house and the
gardens and pond are open to the public, so we spent the afternoon
exploring where he created his masterpieces and enjoying the idyllic
landscape. Unbeknownst to us when we planned our trip, mid-April is
an ideal time to visit as the gardens are dazzlingly in bloom. The
vibrant gardens showcased blossoming trees, leafy plants, vines
snaking across trellises, and row after row of fragrant flowers, with
particularly magnificent tulips of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The
water lily pond as well was encircled by bamboo trees, flowering
bushes, and a wide variety of other plants, though there were no
actual water lilies at this time of year. It exuded peace and
tranquility. It was not difficult to imagine Monet being constantly
inspired to paint his surroundings.
After visiting the house and gardens, we strolled down the main
street of Giverny, taking photos of the picturesque old homes, many
of which peek out through a dense layer of bright purple wisteria.
There are a couple of cafés and galleries,
as well as the Museum of Impressionism, where we had lunch but didn't
have time to otherwise visit. At the
other end of the village is the twelfth-century church and the
cemetery where Monet and some of his family members are buried. And
that's about the extent of the town of Giverny. It's tiny and
beautiful and even with plenty of tourists it still feels like a
charming and refreshing getaway from the rush of Paris.
For any parents of young children among our readers who might
consider a trip to Giverny, it should be noted that it works fairly
well to bring a stroller/push chair/poussette, though it can't be
taken into Monet's house as there are many stairs, and there are also
stairs leading to the water lily pond, so it's good to have help
carrying it up and down. We alternated the stroller with our baby
carrier, and Maëlys seemed to appreciate the variety of views. Also,
there are nice baby changing facilities and toilets for children next
to the parking lot.
At the end of our meanderings around the village, we took a
fifteen-minute shuttle bus back to the neighboring town of Vernon,
where we caught the train back to Paris' Gare St. Lazare. The baby
enjoyed watching the countryside fly past on the 45-minute trip and
was nearly asleep by the time we got home that evening. For a small
village in the middle of nowhere, we found it surprisingly easy to
get to Giverny via public transportation. It's not a super cheap
trip, as a return train ticket from Paris is about €25
per person and the shuttle costs €5
each way. Plus entrance to Monet's gardens and house is €9.50
per person. Still, a visit at the height of springtime is well worth
the money and effort; it provides a marvellous escape from city life
and allows you to feel the same tranquility and beauty that inspired
the paintings of Monet.
