Chapter Twenty Two

HOW did that pirate or interloper infiltrate our blog and write the clearly bogus, libellous, if not downright blasphemous last Chapter ? It must have been done by some ne'er-do-well computer hacker or whiz-kid with lots of time at his or her disposal, a little creativity and some daft or crazy ideas about what might have happened one day Down Under off the coast of NZ.

It certainly was not authorised by Trish and myself and, in our view, seriously infringed both the confidentiality and copyright attaching to our blog. If we ever establish the identity of the scallywag, legal proceedings will immediately follow and punitive damages will be sought. (You can never, ever, have enough money, can you ?). The scoundrel has been warned. No mercy will be shown!

We left you in Chapter Twenty with Trish and I escaping the long arm of the law. We had been admonished for driving too slowly on roads we had never travelled before. But when we explained we were both Munster-born, the investigating policeman quickly apologised for stopping us and said he had a new respect for our cautious driving. We think his re-think was partially based on Munster's near wipe-out of the All Blacks. Amazing how quickly possible arrest can turn to respect and freedom from prosecution, isn't it ? Thanks, to the lads in the red jerseys !

For the second time we ventured across Queen Charlotte Sound, the Cook Straits and into Wellington where we stayed in an adjoining town called Lower Hutt. Christmas shopping was undertaken that day and next evening we again called on Tom and Sarah O'Brien and family. Their son Owen had been hospitalised since our last visit with meningitis but was now on the mend though not yet back to work.

The day was December 19. It was somebody's 64th birthday and a cake and candles was purchased to celebrate the occasion in the O'Brien family home in Whitby outside Wellington. "Happy Birthday" was sung to the unfortunate birthday boy, and his wife exclaimed to anybody who would care to listen that she was now married to a 64-year-old man.

"I can't believe it," Trish exclaimed. "Me, a young one in her early fifties, married to an old geezer who is just short of picking up the State pension. I don't think I will ever recover from the shock ! It doesn't matter that he was an acceptable 63 yesterday, he is 64 today, for God's sake !"

She did, slightly, get over the shock. But it took until the onset of Christmas to lessen the impact of what had happened to her. She is, however, still not fully recovered from the experience !

That night family-tree nostalgia gripped Sarah. Trish said her mother, Kitty, had all the information, background, family antecedents and genealogy at her fingertips. There was nothing for it but to call Ireland and find the information she was seeking. No horrendous phone bills, even though the call lasted almost an hour. Trish had obtained a facility to ring a land line in Ireland for just two NZ dollars or around 82 cents in Euro money. Talk about a bargain call !

Time to say goodbye next morning but we indicated to Sarah and Tom this might not be our last visit to New Zealand. So, it was 'Au Revoir', rather than 'Goodbye'. We headed straight to the NZ Post Office and 'road taxed" Tom Birdsall's van for a further 5,000 kms. He had been kind enough to do the same for us when we set out on our round-NZ motoring holiday, nearly seven weeks previously.

The journey from Whitby outside Wellington to Sheila and Tom's home in Remuera near Auckland is approximately 620 kms and we made the journey non-stop, save for a meal break of 40 minutes, in 8 hours and 45 minutes on the road. That averaged out at 75 km per hour, going through towns and twisty roads in persistent rain and wind. But we were glad to be safely "back home" in Sheila and Tom's place.

Christmas in Kiwi-land is different from either Ireland or Britain. Weather is warm though not tropical, houses are decorated though not as lavishly as North or South of the Border, and there are not the same long pre-Christmas supermarket check-out queues as at home. It is altogether a more relaxed affair. Sheila and Tom retired to their island home for the Christmas. On the day, December 25, presents were stacked up under the Christmas tree and to the side of the lounge. Though away from Ireland now for almost six months, Santa had no bother in locating our whereabouts in Waiheke. He would put the Post Office to shame !

Early afternoon Sheila cooked brunch of scallops, honey-glazed ham, fresh cray fish and prawns in sauce, accompanied by specially baked wheaten bread (very special recipe) and ciabatta bread, all washed down with a wide selection of NZ's best white, red and sparkling wines. But first, every Christmas gift was individually opened by its recipient. Trish and I sipped Jameson as we joined in this pleasant Christmas morning fun. Bridie, Sheila's daughter, who had been up since 9 a.m. looking at the wrapped parcels and wondering what they might contain, was beside herself with anticipation. She could not wait to hand out the presents and open her own.

After brunch, we went for a walk to clear the "cobwebs". Bridie and Tom's daughter, Divinia who works in Melbourne but who had flown in for the Christmas, went for a swim on nearby Shelly Beach Strand. It was so warm that yours truly was able to fall asleep in the sunshine on a picnic bench. Then, back home to bed. But we were soon called by Sheila for Christmas dinner of stuffed turkey, boiled and roast potatoes, a selection of vegetables, gravy, all again washed down with the best wines NZ has to offer. We had our dinner outdoors on the decking under candle light. Crackers were pulled, pleasantries and joked exchanged, and we whimsically discussed Santa's progress on his journey round the rest of the world.

As you probably know, New Zealand is one of the first but not the first country Santa and his reindeers call to in their journey to children and adults round the universe. Other island nations in the Pacific, such as Tonga and Fiji, also lay claim to this distinction. Even the small sparsely populated archipelago of Kiribati by virtue of its re-aligning of the International Date Line now claims to be the first to usher in the new day since some it's islands lie to the east of the 180 degree longitudinal line !

On the other hand, among the last places in the world to be visited by Santa in his 24-hour journey are Honolulu in the Pacific, Pitcairn Island to which many of the mutineers on the 'Bounty' fled, French Polynesia including Tahiti, and Samoa. But by then his sleigh is not as heavy as it was when visiting the more affluent countries. Expectations of children and adults in these less well-off parts of the world is much less than that in developed nations and, therefore, the now nearly-exhausted reindeers have less to carry to fewer people.

If New Zealand is one of the first nations in the world to be visited by Santa, Western Europe including Ireland is somewhere in the middle being a a full 13 hours behind NZ, Tonga and Fiji. When it is midnight in Ireland on Christmas Eve, Santa has already visited over half the world. Incredible, but true. For Western Europe is a good half day behind Austral-Asia, time-wise, and so by the time he gets to Ireland he has already "done' the three nations mentioned, as well as Australia and the two most populous countries in the world, China and India. Almost unbelievable, isn't it ?

Next day after Christmas is St. Stephen's Day in Ireland but Boxing Day in Britain, NZ and much of the Commonwealth nations. Boxing Day apparently owes its origins to the practice in Britain in the Middle Ages of more affluent persons giving their staff of cooks, drivers, estate workers and servants presents of clothes, food and money to take with them to their families the day after Christmas, December 26; hence, the name, Boxing Day. It has nothing to do with the returning of unwanted gifts.

Even in Ireland, this practice of giving "Christmas Boxes" to refuse collectors, company employees, and others who may have done one a favour, still prevails. But December 26 is more appropriately known as St. Stephen's Day, after the first Christian martyr who was stoned to death for his preaching of Christianity.

The day after Christmas, Tom Birdsall launched his aluminium boat, complete with outboard engine attached, by way of a winch and pulley down the side of the cliff face to the foreshore. That evening he cast his fishing net overnight in nearby Putiki Bay. By next morning only two fish were caught, a flounder and a snapper; the fish were not biting. It was, after all, the Christmas Season. There was, already, plenty of food on most people's tables.

Next day Tom participated with others in his "Grand Marina Expedition', details of which were posted by another person in the previous chapter. It was now time for Trish and I to move on and both Sheila and Tom again graciously loaned us their Hiace and made their home in Auckland, now vacant, available to us. We grasped the opportunity with gratitude.

As we write, time is now drawing close for us to end our two month NZ holiday. It has been a particularly pleasant and warm experience. Trish is very contented here and says 'we must return'. I am inclined to agree.

Tomorrow morning, December 31, we fly out from Auckland to Sydney in Australia. We are all packed and ready to go.

But first, a more important matter. As you know, we expect to be grandparents within the next week or so.

When we have any news, you will be the first to know.

All the best, and a Happy, Healthy and Prosperous New Year to both our families and all our friends.

Thank you, Tom and Sheila, for making these last two months so enjoyable. Your hospitality knows no bounds.

Love you all.

Another Chapter, both on the blog and in our lives, will follow in less than two weeks.

Stay tuned.