“Daniel, time for tea! ” A very young voice shouted from behind the trees.
“Coming!” Replied his older brother, running up the only slightly visible stairs behind the same trees. His shoelace hit the stairs as he ran, skipping steps.
The day did not turn out the way I had planned. The plan was for breakfast in Petone, and then a cable car ride up to the Botanical Gardens. Sounds nice right? Just wait, it gets …interesting.
I started out with tea and typing around 7 am. Yes I still get up early, I can’t seem to sleep in. I think Andrew and Lois get up early too. Around 9 I heard their doorbell, then ten minutes later I heard chain saws. I figured their grandson had returned. I got dressed and made for the bus stop.
Today I managed to stop the 83, not letting him skip me like he did yesterday. Instead of going straight to Petone from Eastbourne, this bus goes up through Lower Hutt. I watched the streets as we went through, and decided I might come back again. Nothing crazy fun stood out but might not be so bad. About fifteen minutes later, we reached Petone. I couldn’t decide where to get off the bus, so I randomly just hit stop, and tapped my card to leave. I always make sure to say hi and to thank the bus drivers.
I stood at the corner, another chilly day ahead. I saw several cafes, and finally chose to go to the Palace Cafe. I crossed the street -I should mention here, that it has been very uncomfortably odd to look both ways and see the cars coming to and from different directions. Being on the bus has not felt different, but walking certainly makes the two sides awkward. I step in the street and think the cars in that lane will be going south/east, but no, no, they’re going north/west. Ahhhhhh!
I walked into the cafe where I stared at the chalk board. It was a typical cafe, food counter, smallish, white, and plate noises in the back. Very traditional. The anxious Chinese cashier stared at me while I made up my mind. I walked up, and order the veggie stack and a chai latte, soy milk.
“Cinnamon or chocolate on top?” She asked me hurriedly. Where was she going? Why the rush?
“Cinnamon, please.” I replied, watching her write it down. I was digging for my wallet. Have I mentioned how I hate to carry bags?
$15 later I handed her my card – we thought food was expensive in LA! Another reaction to my card, and she handed it back. I’ve had to sign for everything – I haven’t had to sign at home in years!
I found a seat at the front window, counter style. I particularly liked the street signs here, they were much easier to read than most.
I proceeded to write part 2 of the previous day, however I realized there wasn’t any wifi near me. I decided I could just write it in notepad and copy it later. I picked up a Petone brochure from the boxes next to me and put it in my bag to look at after typing. The cafe was average busy; a few customers who I could tell were regulars, as they said hi to the girls behind the counter and began conversations.
The anxious girl brought out my chai, which was very good by the way. Then she brought out a huge plate: sprinkled parsley on the sides surrounded a halved grilled tomato, two hash browns, peppered spinach, and mushrooms in a creamy sauce. It was delicious.
I hung around for about an hour or so, finished up part 2, and then packed up to leave. I wandered outside and took a look around.
I just started walking down and looked at all the stores. I finally found one of the bookstores, “Bookfeast”. It was focused on cook books and baking books- my kind of store! There were some gadgets, and a few Christmas ornaments. There aren’t many Christmas displays out here. You’d hardly know it was December. I fidgeted around and glanced at some books. I found one dedicated to vegetarian recipes from New Zealand, and decided I could afford it. I paused for a moment thinking I could find it cheaper on amazon, but that’s the kind of thinking that makes a person lazy.
The owner was a nice lady, blonde hair, English accent instead of the mix of Australian / English I’d been hearing much of. She had a black dress and was kind of fun-awkward polite English way. I was digging in my bag again for my wallet and had a hard time finding it.
” Oh isn’t it a pain? Why do we think we have to carry big bags?” She commented, sympathetically.
” It is! I don’t carry bags for this reason! I’m just traveling and I’m not used to it.” I said finally, relievedly finding my wallet. I handed her my famous card.
” Oh my that is quite the card! Fancy, huh? American is it?” My card has a new fan.
” Yes, it’s nice, I like it, made for travel.”
” Oh quite right, definitely made for travelin'”
I smiled, mentioning I didn’t need a separate bag – no more bags! We exchanged some “good days”, and I headed out to continue down the street.
Next, I dove into the chocolate store, thinking of mom. The man at the counter watched me like a hawk, I don’t know why. Like I’m gonna steal chocolate or he really wanted to sell me some. Lucky for him I was up for buying. I picked out the ones that sounded the best, and then finally realized I’d come to the first place that didn’t take credit card.
I finally got to use some of that New Zealand cash that was so difficult to get! I made my purchase and went about my street wandering.
I thought about bringing some more chocolate home, but personally, I didn’t want to deal with customs (sorry mom). I’d later eat the six pieces I bought after eating pumpkin ravioli for dinner.
Finding a hotspot for wifi by one of the bus stops, I managed to upload the post I had written earlier. It took some doing, WordPress was being difficult and crashing. I counted the number of buses that came and went while I sat there: 15. When I was ready for a bus, did one come? No. Why would they do that? About 45 minutes and a street crossing later, I found the bus I needed to get to Lambton Quay, where I thought I’d catch the cable car. Thought being the keyword here.
I got to Lambton, no problem. I looked at the map I had for the Botanical Gardens. It seemed like I could just walk from there so I gave it go. I crossed and followed the Bowen Street up, then wound up in a parking lot. There were some nice buildings around, so I grabbed some shots.
A guy in a grey sweater was just a ways up from me. His jeans looked too new, and so did his shoes. He didn’t appear to be carrying anything but his camera. After he took some photos, he walked on in the path opposite me. I saw him again a few minutes later, after I had crossed through one lot to another. He had taken off his sweater, revealing a t-shirt, and I watched as he swung it over his shoulder, swaggering on. I wondered if he was an architect student since he had been taking building photos, and wasn’t dressed as a normal traveler would be.
I continued on this random shortcut or distraction path to try to find my way to the gardens, taking more photos as I went.
I came to the top of the roadway hoping to see a sign for the gardens or at least some directional help. To my surprise, I had instead found my way to parliament. Yep, I met the government, well at least I met the building for it.
They’re after me! I thought, jokingly. I’m not sticking around.
About twenty feet up the ramp over the motorway, I looked around for some indication of where the gardens might be. Again, I saw none, and again I became surprised:
I bet they’re nice people.
I found another pathway leading back down, next to the motorway. I decided to try it and that maybe the gardens were on the other side.
Needless to say, I did not find the gardens on the other side. I crossed what seemed to be a busy street, and found more road paths. I giggled at one of the signs at the entrance to the park.
As I took the picture a rather ragged dressed guy, with black frazzled hair and beard appeared. I smiled and said hi, and tried to continue on the path I’d chosen to go.
“Hey, have you, uh, heard of coniculous in the park?” He asked, curiously.
I turned around, and took a moment. It occurs to me now he might have said Caligula, which I would have gotten and would have made much more sense to his reply. But at the time, he was far away, and what he said sounded like something similar to Shakespeare in the Park.
“No, I haven’t heard of it.” I smirked, not knowing what we were talking bout.
” It’s sex in the park.” He embarrassingly said.
” Oh! ” I held back laughing. “Sorry no.”
I can hear my Aunt Kerry laughing right now. I can imagine the look on my parents’ faces, and I can hear all my friends and what they would say. I couldn’t stop laughing for the rest of the adventure on the path.
He waved as he wished me a good day and we both turned in our respective directions. I imagine it was my hat again, this time I wore my blue one that my friend Loren had given me.
It took another twenty minutes to walk through the pathway. I passed by a graveyard that was attractive in its layout. The headstones were decorative and fascinating. Reminded me of horror movies, and The Haunted Mansion at Disneyland.
Eventually, I found myself on Terrace street. The buildings here were tall, as if it might have been a business street; Reminiscent of downtown San Francisco: up and down hills, tight space, and shade from the buildings. It was on the map and the gardens should have been up and around. I still couldn’t find them. I decided that it was a lost cause today, and it was time to do something else.
I found a convenience store and got some water. The man ahead of me in line was trying to use his card but it wasn’t working right. He paused, and turned to me, and apologized for the delay. I replied that it wasn’t a problem, and he appreciated my patience. After it was my turn to pay, I walked back out of the store, and looked about five feet up the hill to see a bus time sheet. I checked my phone, 2:11. I was in time to catch the 2:13 bus to Courtenay Place, the street I’d been at the day before. It seemed like it took a half hour for those buses or more, but finally the 17 and the 22 came. Either would have worked for me, and since the 17 refused to stop the 22 became my new best friend.
The driver was crazy happy and nice. He greeted me with a big hello and smile; he did the same for every other passenger that got on or off as he drove us to our locations. I think he even knew some of the people. One young boy in a sweatshirt and basketball shorts, with headphones falling out of his pockets, stood at the front and held a conversation with the driver the whole time he was on the bus.
A bit later, I arrived at Courtenay, and greeted the theater again. I saw the street I had taken to the museum. I decided I’d just start walking around, and maybe something would come up. I ended up near a park and skate park – promptly taking photos for my friend Nate ( he loves skate parks ).
Making my way the long way around the blocks, I came back to the theater. It’s become a safe zone now. I know how to get there if I’m lost. I took some more outside photos, and noticed a Harley Davidson store next door. Now how did I miss that yesterday?
I took the 83 back home, but before it came I stood there maybe a half hour debating and debating if I should eat dinner at a wine place across the street, or have leftover ravioli. Just as I was about to give up on the bus, I saw it turn left at the intersection by the theater. Seemed like a sign to head home.
It was a quiet ride home. Thankfully more people were getting off at my stop so I didn’t have to worry about the button. There are two bends around the bay that confuse me, so I have to pay extra attention where I am. The bus stopped, and three of us got off. one headed downwards, another stopped in the bus stop covering to look at the timetable. I walked through the covering, climbed up the slippery road. As I started my journey up, I heard a soft cooing:
Stay there bird, I thought, anxiously pulling my camera out of my bag. Just long enough for a photo, please.
The bird stared at me, as if it was sizing me up. I thanked it for staying, and put my camera away. The hike up the hill is so tiring. I heard the boys as I approached the last bit of my hike. Their presence at that moment seemed to make the frustrations of not doing what I had wanted just disappear.