Away Together » North Island New Zealand

Meals with Eels and Other Nelson Must-Do’s

Sarah — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 05:17:33 +0000

The garden setting of The Jester House Cafe near Nelson, where the great food isn't the main attraction.

A man I met in Auckland gave me this tip when he learned we’re visiting his home town, Nelson: “You really must go to The Jester, about 40 minutes away, because it’s the best cafe. Worth the drive. Terrific breakfast, heaping portions. And eels — the children will love them!”

He made it sound as though eels were on the children’s menu — a kind of kiddie sushi, perhaps — but a check of The Jester House website revealed live freshwater “tame eels” as a main attraction. It seemed as odd as a B&B advertising pet snakes along with delicious scones.

We put it on our must-do list and found ourselves driving up the Coastal Highway a few days after Christmas to find out if tame eels were an oxymoron or some kind of joke at this place called The Jester.

It definitely was worth the drive — a tour that revealed why some compare the Nelson area to a mix of Napa, Santa Barbara and Santa Cruz. The brilliant blue of Tasman Bay, visible along the waterfront of the Tahunanui District, gives way to green vineyards along a stretch known as the Appleby Highway. Just when you think you may be delightfully lost on a country road bordered by white painted fences, a sign for The Jester House comes into view: “Cafe and Tame Eels!”

We crossed a narrow footbridge and got a glimpse of the slithering, sleek things in the stream below — dozens of them intertwined and flopping about — while several little kids stood on the bank reaching out to them. It was clear the children were more enchanted than grossed out. Colly and Kyle ran to buy a cup of eel food and joined the others while we got a table.

Kyle and Colly meet the eels -- and make some squeals.

The cafe is set in a garden that looks lifted from a children’s story book, with playthings such as an over-sized chessboard and teeter-totters. One table was inlaid with a hand-carved Chutes and Ladders game, but it pictured miniature eels instead of chutes.

Kyle ran up to me, out of breath and eyes big, saying “Mom, you have to come, you have to see the eels. They come out of the water!” I dutifully followed him down a path to the stream and stood mesmerized as he and Colly lured the eels like snake charmers by using food on the end of a stick. Sure enough, these amphibians squirmed out of the water, opening and shutting their silent mouths in a chomping motion. They looked like evil sock puppets dipped in slime.

“Mom, come here — you’ve gotta pet them!” Kyle demanded. As soon as I forced myself to reach down, one suddenly lunged with its mouth open and aimed at my fingers. I made a scaredy-cat shriek of “Ewww!” and ran several steps back to watch from a safe distance. “It’s just like petting a wet bar of soap,” chided Colly.

When it comes to eels, the kids are braver than I!

I was relieved to shift my focus to lunch, which was one of the best — and most reasonably priced — meals we’ve had since coming to Nelson. My veggie burger came on a fresh-baked ciabatta role nearly as big as the plate, layered with greens and marinated red onion.

After lunch, we headed to Rabbit Island, which locals say is the area’s best beach. It’s located between The Jester House and Nelson, from Redwood Road off the Coastal Highway. The entire island (accessible by a causeway) is forested with pine planted decades ago, and the beach stretches unbroken for about eight miles, with relatively warm and safe surf that the kids dove right in.

Colly and Kyle take a break from the surf to dig for treasure.

Morgan's favorite view of the beach on Rabbit Island.

Seifried Estates Winery and Restaurant is close by Rabbit Island, on Redwood Road, and also worth a stop. We went there a few days prior to the eel outing, and the kids, who were dreading a fancy meal and boring tour, were relieved to discover that we could eat outside — next to a play structure! I love how the concept of play structures at restaurants has spread beyond McDonald’s in New Zealand.

At Seifried Winery, I enjoyed the wine while the kids monkeyed around on the play structure.

I’m grateful the guy in Auckland gave me The Jester tip and in doing so gave us more reasons to explore the Tasman Bay coastline; otherwise, we might not have felt motivated to go beyond Nelson, because it’s such an intoxicatingly comfortable town. Along Nelson’s main street, Trafalgar, flower baskets overflow with impatiens and lobelia, and walking paths branch out toward the beach and hills. Part of me wants to stay right here forever.

But the other part of me looks forward to leaving in a few days because we’re heading north to explore the Nelson area’s biggest attraction: Abel Tasman National Park. We’ll unplug from the laptops, stick our stuff in storage and hook up with another family (Kiwi transplants and friends from our Ojai high school days, The Kirkpatricks) for a three-day kayak trip.

Old friends, new adventures — I’m looking forward to the new year!

The sun sets over Tasman Bay and the town of Nelson, a place that epitomizes beauty and tranquility.

Playing Around Rotorua

Sarah — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 07:50:34 +0000

We spent the past week in Rotorua, a North Island city famous for adventure sports and stinky geothermal sites. Perhaps no other city in New Zealand, or anywhere, has come up with more ways to thrill tourists (and make them part with money) with “adventure” broadly defined. You can luge, river raft, sky swing, sky jump, bungee jump, jet boat, kayak, off-road race and mountain bike. Plus, there’s the ZORB, a giant rubber ball that bounces down a hill with a person sliding and rattling around inside it. We went on the luge and let the kids try the ZORB (just once, because of its exZORBitant prices):

Click here to view the embedded video.

The Rotorua Tourism Board will probably be upset to hear me say these activities generally seem overrated and overpriced. Our best times around Rotorua involved spending free time for free. We rented a low-cost cabin outside of town at one of the best “holiday parks” we’ve come across yet (a glorified RV park and campground), on the edge of Blue Lake by a vast forest preserve, and passed the time reading, homeschooling, running, researching, cooking and playing with the kids. Morgan and I took turns doing long solo runs through the Whakarewarewa forest, aka The Redwoods, which seemed like a fairy-tale hybrid of Hawaii and California because it had the ferns, dampness and fragrance of an island rain forest amidst groves of century-old redwoods.

Then we experienced Kiwi hospitality firsthand when a mutual friend of some Northern California runners, Paul Charteris, invited us to his hometown of Kawerau near Rotorua and took us on a hike to Tarawera falls.

Tarawera Falls near Rotorua, where we hiked and picnicked.

The double-barreled waterfall shoots out of the middle of the volcanic mountain, from a fissure created by lava, rather than cascading over a cliff. The kids didn’t mind hiking uphill for an hour because the reward was so great: first the falls, then a sky-blue swimming hole with rope swings.

Colly and Kyle couldn't get enough of this rope swing at the Tarawera swimming hole.

Paul then hooked us up with his friends, Mike and Sarah van der Boom and their two school-age girls, in the beautiful Bay of Plenty beach town of Whakatane. Their family hosted us for a couple of nights, gave us a barbecue and took us trail running. Believe what you hear: New Zealanders really are that nice!

At our hosts' house, the kids just played and played.

Morgan and me on a run above Whakatane in the Bay of Plenty with Sarah van der Boom, who took this picture.

All of this — not just our time in New Zealand, but the ways in which our lives have changed through travel – has made me think more about the subject of play and the choices we make about how to spend time and money, particularly as a parent. Forgive me as I digress and risk sounding simplistic or superficial as I try to condense a big topic into a blog post.

We’ve been away from home for four months now, and I’ve noticed that Colly and Kyle are playing more than they have since preschool, which has been a profound and unforeseen benefit of this long-term travel. By “play” I mean filling their time imaginatively and physically, making use of whatever is around them. After we’re done schooling or sightseeing, they still have hours of unscheduled free time to fill up, and TV or the Internet are limited because of our circumstances (few TV channels, shared computers and limited WiFi). So they wander outside, often to a play structure or trampoline, but they don’t just swing or bounce. They make up a game or start playing characters. They get in arguments, work it out or forget about it, and then start something new on their own, or they might meet other kids from other countries and start talking to them. And they constantly are together, so much so that they joked they’re developing twin telepathy.

The kids keep exploring and trying new things together.

I really didn’t appreciate how much our family life has changed until the other day when I opened my calendar from seven months ago and literally shuddered when I saw the lines and lines of daily scheduled activities and obligations, much of which involved the kids. Well-intentioned parents (like me) sign children up for sports and recreational programs because we don’t want them to “miss out.” We want them to have fun and develop their hobbies (and to be honest, we want them to stand out as stars on the stage or on the field), and we want someone to watch them and keep them safe while we go about our lives during the day. We also are susceptible to the marketing of many extracurricular “enrichment programs,” believing our kids need the help of tutors and other professionals so they can reach their potential. Ironically, all this scheduling and transporting kids to programs often makes families more stressed, more financially stretched and less available to spend time together.

Kids become so accustomed to being told what to do, and when and how to do it, that they complain about being bored if they suddenly find themselves with free time. Parents admit to looking forward to summer or winter holidays ending so they can get their kids back on a schedule and in those programs.

That was how our family was before this year away — and it may be us again when we get back. I hope not, because we were not a terribly happy bunch back then, but those real-world dynamics of our community and demographic are incredibly hard to resist. Of course we’ll plug back in to it all on some level, but I’m already trying to envision a middle ground that will preserve the kind of play and togetherness we’re rediscovering.

Before this trip, I was familiar with studies touting the importance of play and warning about the downside of kids’ over-scheduled, over-hurried lifestyles — but it took a genuine change of circumstances and simplifying of our lives (what travel blogger Christine Gilbert has called a lifestyle redesign) to make me fully appreciate the importance of free time and family time.

This is us on an impromptu roadside hike.

I watch Colly in particular as she revels in being a kid. Yesterday she spent most of the afternoon with Kyle doing nothing more important than digging in beach sand to build castles, and when we went inside she became absorbed in a book. Her sixth-grade friends back home, meanwhile, are managing a mountain of homework and other responsibilities while preoccupied about their appearance, friendships and who’s dating whom.

What a gift, I realize with gratitude, that this year away has extended her childhood by a year, and given us more time to enjoy her — and really get to know her — as a goofy girl who’s content to play with her little brother. It may be we’re just delaying the inevitable and that she’ll turn into a teen overnight as soon as she’s sucked into the vortex of seventh grade. I hope, however, she’ll be better equipped to navigate the pressure of adolescence fortified by this year — a year of living more simply and becoming more self-reliant while seeing how people in other parts of the world make do with less; a year of just being herself and being incredibly close to her family.

The same could be said for all four of us: I sincerely hope we will re-enter life back home permanently changed and fortified by this year.

Sometimes you just gotta let go and go for it.

Happy Campers Touring North NZ by RV

Sarah — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 19:57:58 +0000

Click here to view the embedded video.

Twenty years ago, on a college road trip to Oregon, Morgan and I stopped by a Winnebago dealership so I could tour some models. I told him then that nothing would make me happier than being on the road with him in a Minnie Winnie. Either that or a pop-top Vanagon. He bought a small Toyota truck with a camper shell to appease me, but I still pined for a mobile kitchen.

Now I feel like someone should pinch me, because I can’t believe the four of us are driving, cooking, eating and sleeping in a magnificent four-berth camper that seems perfect in every way. I probably should be writing about the scenery — the lush vegetation and sweeping beaches of this swath of Northern New Zealand called the Bay of Islands — but I can’t get over the fact that the RV’s pots and dishes fit so neatly and securely in cabinets under a real working gas stove, and the table and benches fold and fit like puzzle pieces to make a comfy queen-size bed, and the bathroom sink flips up over the toilet. While the kids run along the beach and Morgan reads at a picnic table, I’m content to sit in this parked RV for hours and enjoy the view out the back window.

Morgan watches the tides roll out behind our RV spot in Waiwera, north of Auckland. Meanwhile ...

... I'm happy to stay inside the RV and cook!

Morgan begrudgingly agreed to rent an RV for six days in New Zealand. He wasn’t crazy about the cost (it’s definitely not a bargain), and he didn’t relish the thought of driving a 20-foot vehicle with a manual transmission and mastering the mechanics of a dump station. But it was 3 against 1, because the kids wanted it as much as I did.

He got on board with the idea when he realized that New Zealand is uniquely set up for camping in recreational vehicles or tents. There are hundreds of clean, well-equipped campgrounds called “holiday parks” along the countryside. We rearranged our itinerary and got the RV from Kea Campers as soon as we left Auckland in order to rent it before the rest of the country goes on holiday and the rates shoot up and campsites get crowded. New Zealand’s summer holiday runs from about Dec. 18 through January, and during that time the rate for our camper jumps from $212 per day (NZ$) to $350 per day.

The kids enjoy playing cards on the loft in the RV ...

... or playing on the picture-perfect beach.

We hit the road and started discovering the fun of no-frills holiday parks, where the vibe is like one big front porch and the back yard is endless. Conversations start around a shared outdoor kitchen facility called the “ablution block,” where campers gather to wash dishes or clean fish. Kids roam about (they tend to be from families of foreign tourists like us, since New Zealand schools are still in session), and Colly and Kyle wander off to explore the tides. Warbling birds and someone’s acoustic guitar add to the ambient noise.

Apart from the campgrounds, we’re experiencing the joy and liberty of exploring any side road that beckons, as happened when we approached the town of Kawakawa, “famous throughout New Zealand for its public toilets, which were designed by Austrian artist/sculptor Friedensreich Hundertwasser,” according to the breathlessly overwritten prose of our Explore New Zealand Holiday Park Guide. “The Hundertwasser Toilets are Number 95 of the 101 Must-Dos for Kiwis.” Well, if it ranks 95 out of 101, it must be worthwhile! Besides, we needed a bathroom break.

Hence, we found ourselves on the main street of an old coal town called Kawakawa looking at a public toilet stall decorated with fanciful mosaic tiles and learning more about this “internationally regarded architect” and misunderstood artist, Freidrich Hundertwasser, who came to New Zealand in the early 1970s and was commissioned in 1997 to build a public bathroom for the town.

“He was no stranger to the rejection of his offers to design flags, buildings and stamps and must have been delighted by the invitation, so much so that he emerged from his reclusive lifestyle to oversee the project,” reads the short history. “Kawakawa today (pop. 1300) is still a service and supply center; however, in recent years, urban drift and the restructuring of industry has affected the local economy. The Hundertwasser toilets and Hundertwasser’s overall philosophy have contributed new life in the town and inspired the local community to work together toward a vibrant future.”

To think, a public commode can do all that!

The history concludes wistfully, “Freidrich Hundertwasser died in February 2000 at the age of 71. The Kawakawa toilets were thus his final creation and are seen as an important memorial to him.”

Kyle was not very impressed by the famous Hundertwasser Toilets.

Part of the memorial to Freidrich Hundertwasser.

Fascinated by this tale of derring-loo and by the list of 101 Kiwi Must-Dos, Morgan took it upon himself to find out which attractions rank 96 through 101, below the Hundertwasser toilets. Among his findings: #96: “Wellington Writers’ Walk: See 11 poems by some of New Zealand’s well-known writers” (imagine how you’d feel being one of those writers who came in behind the public toilets); #98: “Stonehenge Aotearoa: A full-scale, modern adaptation of the famous Stonehenge on Salisbury Plains”; and our favorite, #100: “Beehive and Parliament Buildings.” No description, just an address to visit the seat of government in Wellington, which perhaps resembles a beehive. It’s wonderful to be in a country that believes it’s more worthwhile to visit a public toilet than to visit the government’s headquarters.

Kidding aside, we’ve seen some truly worthwhile sights, which we’ll try to detail later. Suffice to say that exploring New Zealand by RV should rank near the top of the Kiwi 101 Must-Do list.

It's not an obscene gesture, it's Morgan and Kyle doing a Maori cultural dance during our visit to the Waitangi Treaty Grounds.