Explore with Fran

Join me on the journey as I travel, eat, and drink my way around the world

7 Must Visit Vineyards in New Zealand

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Wine tasting in New Zealand

Classified as a “New World” wine region, New Zealand has an abundance of great wine growing regions, and the climate is perfect for creating some world class Pinot Noir.  Yeah, you probably know this already. It is a good drop. There are also bold Bordeaux style reds. Big, robust cabernet grapes. And we couldn’t talk about the wines of New Zealand without mentioning the ubiquitous Sauvignon Blanc of the Marlborough region.  The cooler climate helping to create the apple crisp, zesty savs from the South Island that are now found everywhere, with bottle shops and supermarkets worldwide saturated with it. A good wine, but it wasn’t the focus of this trip.

Unlike many wine tasting regions I have visited around the world, wineries in New Zealand tend to charge a “tasting fee”, almost without exception.  Some even still insisted on collecting the fee even when we made a purchase at the cellar door, which is something that will not help encourage future, thirsty oenophiles.

New Zealand is a great country to travel around.  Small. Outrageously scenic. And whilst you are there, point your campervan, or car in the direction of the following vineyards.*

*I use “winery” and “vineyard” interchangeably. However, they have different meanings. A winery is somewhere that wine is made. A vineyard is somewhere that grapes are grown.

Waiheke Island – Auckland

Known as “wine island”, Waiheke Island is only 40 minutes from Auckland on the Fullers Ferry service, leaving from the downtown ferry terminal.  To get in the mood for a day amongst the vines, why not start the journey with a glass of bubbles on the way over.  Arriving at the island, the Explorer Hop on-Hop off bus meets you, to transport you around the island. The consistently high temperatures means that the island produces some great red wines.

Batch – our first port of call and where we also had a very good lunch, avoiding the showers that had started to threaten the day.  When the skies cleared, we had the best vantage point on the island, with uninterrupted views across to Auckland. For a $12 tasting fee we had the Thomas’s Bach wines tasting flight.  It wasn’t until I had been in New Zealand for almost a week that I learnt that “Bach” (pronounced batch) means a small crib, or beach house.  Not often the standard way of doing a tasting, the flight is a good idea as it allows you to try your wines side by side, comparing the flavour profiles

Wines of New Zealand, including an excellent Pinot Noir.
Pinot Noir, Pinot Gris, Sauvignon Blanc, Rose

https://www.batchwinery.com/our-wine.html

Te Motu – Named for the original Maori name of Waiheke, “island of long shelter”, Te Motu serves up Bordeux style wines, sat overlooking the verdant Onetangi Valley. For a $20 tasting fee (yes, it was getting more expensive) we got a tasting of the premium selection, the Te Motu Heritage Flight.  The Dunleavy “The Shed” rose, Merlot based and made in the Provence style. A 2016 Syrah, “The Grafter”, and a 2015 Cabernet Merlot, “The Strip”, named after the old airport runway, preceded our final wine, which was the Te Motu 2009. Good for cellaring up to 2025, this was one that I enjoyed there and then.

Te Motu. Wines of New Zealand.
Our Wines

Stonyridge Vineyard – Specialising in premium red wine, Stonyridge has been described as :

“The vineyard that caused the wine world to wake up to Waiheke” – Lonely Planet 2015.

Stonyridge is a short 5 minute walk across the fields, and through the vines, from neighbouring Te Motu. So we HAD to visit, didn’t we? Following a brief tasting at the cellar door, we purchased a full glass and took it to sit amongst olive trees, drinking our wine in the courtyard that has a distinctly French flavour.  Great wine, great views, and great company. Do days get any better?

The vines of New Zealand, enjoying the glorious sunshine.


http://www.stonyridge.com/

Hawkes Bay – North Island

Nestled on the east coast, and by the city of Hastings, Hawkes Bay is fast becoming a must visit wine destination.  The “Bridge Pa triangle”, which is a cluster of conveniently located vineyards and cellar doors, Hawkes Bay is set up to satisfy all your wine needs, whether you want to visit in your campervan, or if you prefer to pick up a bike locally and pedal your way around.

Ngatawara – easier to find, than to pronounce, we had our first tasting here, in the old stables.  We had an unstructured tasting, which means there isn’t a set list, but you get to taste whatever takes your fancy.  After a rather uninspiring sauvignon blanc, then a Pinot Gris that failed to match the heights of earlier vineyards we decided to move on rather than work further through the wine list.  It can be a tough job, this wine tasting lark. Wine is a very subjective thing, and the beauty is that all our palates are different. Good wine, whatever the price, won’t always be to your liking.

Ngatarawa. New Zealand. Hawkes Bay.
Easier to find than pronounce.

http://www.ngatarawa.co.nz/wine/

Oak Estate – conveniently located just next door to Ngatawara, we were back to a structured tasting, for a $5 charge per person.  This tasting fee was refunded when we left with a bottle of wine. We needed something to go with our fish and chip dinner later that evening. The wines in the tasting included a Chardonnay, spoilt for many due to the proliferation of mass made, over oaky variations in the 90s.  However, this wine is currently undergoing a renaissance in the New World. The one served at Oak Estate was another great example of how good Chardonnay is fighting back. At cellar doors, when asked if I want to try a chardie, no longer do I reply with a screwed up face.

Oak Estate cellar door. Hawkes Bay.

Through the rustic, red cellar door, the courtyard, in amongst the vines, was a perfect spot for us to fill our hungry bellies.  The wine tasting was complemented with a very good lunch platter. The Oak Platter, which was more than enough for two. Now, I just needed to find somewhere for an afternoon nap.

The Oak Platter. Oak Estate. Bridge Pa. Hawkes Bay.
Lunch is served. The Oak Platter.

http://oakestatewines.co.nz/

Marlborough – South Island

We travelled through the Marlborough Sounds by ferry across to Picton in the South Island.  Despite our earlier decision to bypass the Marlborough region, and head straight down the west coast, the blue sky and the sun glistening on the vines as we drove through proved too strong a temptation.  And so we found ourselves swinging the campervan into the car park of the nearest vineyard.

Giesen Wines – Giesen is a wine brand that I am sure I have heard of, but for the life of me can’t remember why.  It is a name that I now won’t forget due to the excellent Pinot Gris I tasted. Paired up with another family for the tasting, paying the standard $5 tasting fee, we were taken through the history of the vineyard, which I always find fascinating, and through a structured tasting, sparkling, to white, through to red, and ending on sweet wines if you so wished. I did so wish.

Giesen. Marlborough. New Zealand.

https://giesen.co.nzP

Peregrine Wines, Central Otago – leaving Queenstown was always going to be hard. The ultimate destination, whatever time of year, I am afraid that our 3 days did not do it justice.  Mountains. Lakes. Great restaurants. Oh, take me back. What better way to perk ourselves up, as we headed north in the campervan, than to call at the renowned Peregrine Wines vineyard.  An architectural wonder that catches the eye as you walk to the cellar door. And the wonders don’t stop there. The wines produced here are nothing short of excellent. Cue, more bottles purchased.

Peregrine Wines. Central Otago. New Zealand.
Central Otago, simply stunning

http://www.peregrinewines.co.nz/

Come to New Zealand for the scenery, and stay for the wine. I challenge you to visit the above vineyards, and not leave with a boot full of wine. What are you waiting for?

Let me know what your favourite vineyards in New Zealand are. What are your go to grapes? What vineyards should I check out on my next visit?

Should I put the iron away and travel?

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I have loved travel for most of my life.  And when I say travel, I don’t mean holidays. (Although, I do bloody love holidays).  I mean what I would call real travel.  Not cocooned in some 5 star hotel, plumping my pillows, and bedding down in Egyptian cotton sheets of the highest quality thread count, whilst the locals can’t afford food and drink, let alone shelter.  Not soothed by air conditioning when the locals live in temperatures that could cook an egg.

And not visiting a place, to stay imprisoned within the confines of a resort, owned by an overseas conglomerate, never to venture outside, to interact with the locals.  No.  I want to sample some amazing street food.  I want to smell the spices.  I want to be visually bombarded with colour, and activity.  I want to contribute to the local economy, not the faceless one.

When people tell me they have been to a certain country, when in fact they never left their international hotel resort drives me mad.  If you are going to visit a country, visit that country, its people, and its customs.  India is not best seen through the windows of your air-conditioned tour bus.  You won’t see some of Mexico’s best temples, from early civilisation, from your lounger in a US run holiday resort.  And the UK is not best seen from an open top bus in London.  Whilst I’m on that point, no open top bus is probably good advice, knowing the English weather.

The amount of people I talk to here who tell me they went to the UK and loved London.  The end.  The whole of the UK, and they loved London.  If I had a Bitcoin for every time somebody here asked me “when do you fly to London” whenever I visit the UK, I still wouldn’t understand Bitcoin.  But I would have a lot of them.  By the way, I blatantly stole that one, so if you are reading this, over your freshly baked focaccia with smashed avo, I do heartily apologise.  The blank stares I get when I ask people what they thought of the Lake District, the beautiful Cornish coastline, or the wonders of Edinburgh and Glasgow, confounds me.

One of the greatest travel writers, Paul Theroux, said “tourists don’t know where they have been, travellers don’t know where they are going.”  And that encapsulates the feeling, and the joy of travel.  Waking up one day, not knowing where you will be going to bed.  The unbridled freedom this gives.  Backpacking.  Independent travel.  Whatever label we want to give to it, it is about immersing yourself in a country, and a culture.  Find your favourite local bakery.  Your favourite spot for morning coffee.  Order it in the local language.  OK, I admit this could be difficult in Scotland.  Laugh along when you get it completely wrong.  Walk the streets, smell the smells.   Listen to the cacophony of sounds.  See what the locals do.  Just sit and people watch.  Let your mind wander.  A form of meditation.  Be present.

This is the travel that I have in my heart.  What I yearn for most days.  Trapped in an office, earning the money to be able to escape the office, and go off and do these things feels like a Faustian pact.  Modern life has a way of keeping you in chains.  To enjoy a lot of the things that we want to enjoy, we need money.  And so we sell our services, to the highest bidder.  A roaming troubadour.  A means to an end.

And this is where our life conditioning comes in again.  We are told that we need to work hard, save lots of money in our superannuation, or pension, and then, when we reach retirement age, which seems to keep creeping inexorably up, we can take that money and “enjoy” life.  And I have seen how that works out for a lot of people.  My own father amongst them.  His dream was to retire and move to Spain.  A very modest dream.  And that man worked harder than anybody I have ever known.  But he never got to live out his dream.  Cancer took his dream away.

I read of people who strive every day, struggle every day, ticking off the days to retirement.  Then retirement comes along, and they are suddenly struck down with a fatal heart attack.

OK, OK, I know I have being a little morbid.  And a trifle dramatic.  I am not naive enough to think this happens everyone.  Lots of people do get to retire, and go off and do the things they have dreamt about all their hard-working life.  But is it worth taking the chance?  Every day I bottle up all these feelings.  Keep the lid on them.  Do a job that I feel trapped in.  Office bound.

That I am doing this until some arbitrary date in the future seems pointless.  I have money in the bank.  And I have my health and fitness.  For now.  I have to admit, my knees give me cause for concern most mornings.  So why am I not off travelling?  Living the life I would prefer to live.  Tipping the scales so that the balance is in favour of travel, and less so on work.  There are places in the world I am desperate to see.  Why am I still ironing shirts for work on Sunday afternoons, and not packing my bags?

Only I can answer that.

A different side to Melbourne

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It was probably not the best week to be travelling by plane. Not with the tragic news that was emerging, the discovery of the body of Emiliano Sala, the Argentinian footballer, whose plane disappeared from the screens of radar whilst flying to the UK.

I was thinking of the folly of flying just days later, as we were thrown about inside the plane like the contents of a cocktail shaker. Very shaken. Very stirred. The dips in altitude were so severe it took me right back to being a teenager, and daring to ride the Revolution at Blackpool Pleasure Beach. Losing your stomach for those thrilling few seconds. However, this time, I was less thrilled. I know one or two people who wouldn’t have handled this situation with quite the same sense of decorum.

As we were flying budget, with JetStar (who I still confuse with EasyJet), I suppose that the fact we were now ‘wheels down’, and safely in Melbourne is all I could ask for. That we had to fly into, and out of different airports is another matter altogether. Fans of Ryanair in Europe will no doubt feel my pain.

Once in Melbourne, and until at least we had to fly back, the ambience, and comfort level were ratcheted up a couple of notches. Staying at the Pan Pacific, right on the Yarra River, by the Melbourne Conference Centre, ensured we would get a good nights sleep. And we did. With possibly the world’s best black out blinds. Bearing in mind that at home in Sydney, it is so bright in the mornings that I might as well have a torch trained on me, then anything that blocked out the morning sun was sure to be a winner. With complimentary access to the Pan Pacific Club Lounge, with complimentary hors d’ouerves and wine between 5pm and 7pm, I was in my element.

Melbourne skyline

However, I had to be restrained with the nibbles, as on Saturday night we had a dinner reservation at Donovans, right on the beach at St Kilda. A local institution, for over 22 years, Donovans lived up to, and probably exceeded my already high expectations. Friendly and attentive service, without being over bearing. In restaurants I sometimes get all cranky when I’m left feeling that advice on the wine list starts to feel a little patronising. Not here. If anything was to leave me feeling cranky it would be the fact that I could only choose one entree and one main course. The menu had an excellent selection, and I could happily have gone back the second night.

I landed on the goats cheese souffle with mushroom sauce, and for main, the outstanding seafood linguine, with Moreton Bay bug. In keeping with recent dining experiences, this was the first time I had eaten Moreton Bay bug. The name does nothing to increase my appetite. And they look even worse. But when I tell you this little beauty is like the best lobster tail, you may, like me, find yourself changing your mind. As Victoria was having a meat dish we chose to pair different wines to our dishes. Donovans accommodates this with a very good selection of half bottles, elegantly served in carafes. I went for the Pewsey Vale ‘Block 1961’ Riesling 2017, from Eden Valley, South Australia, whilst Victoria paired an excellent Wilson ‘Stone Craft’ Cabernet Sauvignon 2015 from Clare Valley, also in South Australia, with her Tasmanian grass fed T-bone.

Seafood linguine
Check out that Moreton Bay bug

Sunday dawned just a little bit dusty, nothing to do with those whisky nightcaps, and following breakfast in the hotel we had a walk across town to shake off the cobwebs. The Melbourne skyline seems to change every time I am here. The top of town gets more “Manhattan like” with needle style skyscrapers going up in a lot of places. I do worry that there will be a tipping point, beyond which Melbourne will start losing some of its character. It has built a tourist industry out of its lane ways, packing them with great bars and cafes, whilst using the walls as open air art. The more these older buildings are demolished to make way for modernity, the more I worry this great city will lose some of its charm, and character.

Jumping on a number 64 tram, we headed, at least we thought we were, towards Brighton, a suburb that we hadn’t previously visited. After a tram ride that took longer than we expected, probably due to the sheer number of people travelling to the St Kilda music festival, we disembarked at the last stop, only to find ourselves in East Brighton, and still a 45 minute walk away from the beach, through suburbia. Putting our best foot forward, we marched through a very salubrious set of neighbourhoods, before finally smelling the sea, and reaching the famous, and very colourful, bathing boxes of Brighton Beach. As with most “famous” things in this Instagram age, we were not the first there. The beach was packed with selfie stick toting tourists looking for the perfect shot. In amongst this, there were actual locals, owners of these bathing boxes, who were looking to have a quiet Sunday by the beach. Looking around me, I’m sure they haven’t had a quiet Sunday at the beach for quite some years.

Bathing boxes in Brighton

Getting back to the city, from Brighton, proved to be even harder than getting there. We took the decision to have lunch in Brighton village, an amazing pizza at Allegro, then jump on a train back to the city. This would be much quicker than the rattling, labouring tram. Well, it would have been, had there been trains that day. Waiting on the platform, with many other unsuspecting travellers, it wasn’t until a few scheduled trains hadn’t arrived that we came to realise it was a day for “train replacement buses”. Oh my. We decided to call up a friendly Uber driver, got back to the city, and helped to shake off the stresses of the day with a couple of cold drinks by the river.

A couple of stress relieving drinks

Melbourne is a city we have visited a number of times before. We usually tie it in with a visit to the Australian Open. An event that gets better every single year. This trip was planned around things that we hadn’t previously done. Spending more time in St Kilda. Visiting a new restaurant in this beach side suburb. Making the short (it should have been) trip out to the beach at Brighton, and experiencing a different side to this great city.

Flying home, thankfully with less turbulence, I was again reminiscing on a fabulous weekend, in one of my favourite cities, and my thoughts switched to “when can I come back?”

2 Perfect Days in the Hunter Valley

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Day 1

Taking my freshly brewed coffee, I went and sat outside on the deck. The early mist was rising over the low mountain range, and the birds were deep in conversation. Strong wafts of eucalyptus were mingling with my coffee aromas.  The very vocal kookaburras all seemed to find everything hilarious as the two grazing kangaroos took off into the distance.

Goosewing Cottage, Mount View, Hunter Valley.

This is why I come to the Hunter as often as I do.  And is why I love it so much. The peace. The serenity.  The complete removal of all the audible sensory overload I get living in the city.  Each morning in the valley starts this way. Up early. Slowly sip the first coffee of the day, just sitting, and watching.  And I breathe intentionally. Slow breath in. Hold it. Slow exhale. Hold it. And repeat. Something so simple, and so effective, keeping me in the moment.  I am only 2 hours from home, and yet at Goosewing Cottage I could be a world away.

Not owning a car, having one for the weekend, on quiet roads, with no traffic lights, is a pleasure.  The Hunter is a large place, made up of a few small towns, and without a car it would be difficult to get around.  First stop this morning was the Sabor Dessert bar in Pokolbin. As we weren’t hungry, really not hungry, I thought we were just getting drinks.  Imagine my surprise when a tasting plate of 6 cheesecakes was brought to our table. Well, now that they are in front of me, it would be rude not to try some.  At least it would be a little lining in my stomach, as our next stop was a number (quite a high number) of vineyards. As you would expect from someone who has a burger spreadsheet, I also have one documenting all the wineries we have visited around the world.  A quick check had me planning out the route for the day, ensuring we sampled some new wines, from some new wineries.

Almost ready for picking. 2019 vintage.

Following trips to Pepper Tree, Constable Estate, and Mount View, we finished up at Briar Ridge.  It was here that we had a voucher to “be a member for a day”, meaning we got a private tasting, 20% off any wines we bought, and a half price antipasto platter.  One of the conversations we had on the way up from the city was to not buy too many wines. The problem with this? It’s a very vague objective. I don’t do well with vague.  How many is too many? By the end of the day we were up to around 24 bottles. You be the judge.

Yes people, I present lamb’s brains to you.

Brains.  Let’s get straight into this.  Specifically, lambs brains. You ever had them?  Ever wanted them? Yeah, me either. Yet this is what I chose as my entree at dinner that evening.  Bistro Molines specialises in French food, done with a Gallic flair. Enter the brains. Deep fried, basking in a river of garlic butter, and served with a sharp caper salad cutting through.  I am always wanting to try new experiences, and push myself in all aspects of my life. This was a great opportunity to push my culinary boundaries. And what I had read turned out to be true. Quite a squishy consistency.  Tofu like. And quite large portions. Perhaps I shouldn’t have kept cutting them in half, whereby they actually looked like brains. This only reminded me what it was that I was chewing. Yes, chewing. Was I eating the thoughts of the lamb?  It’s memories? Good lord, it doesn’t bear thinking about.

Following a glass of local sparkling wine, erroneously called prosecco (since 2010 Prosecco is no longer the name of the grape, which is now called glera, but is geographical indication, in much the same way as Champagne) , we moved onto the main wine of the evening.  The Majella Cabernet Sauvignon was an excellent choice and went terribly well with the whole meal. Not wishing to join me with the brains entree, Victoria chose linguine with pippies, not puppies as my autocorrect suggested, which was excellent. The puppies would have been one up, or would that have been down, from the lambs brains.

The rather excellent Bistro Molines.
View from our table at the restaurant.

The evening at Molines was excellent, and somewhere I would highly recommend.  Sweeping views out over the vines. Watching the day slowly morph into night. Multiple shades of green becoming a singular black.  The service and the food is what you would expect from a restaurant that has had a chefs hat since 2010. We will definitely return, but I think I’ve had my fill of offal.

Day 2

Driving around the Hunter, visiting vineyards, we don’t get much exercise, let alone get anywhere near the daily target of 10000 steps.  For this reason we took another early morning stroll around the gorgeous Mount View area. Sweeping fields of grazing cattle. Nervous kangaroos always on high alert.  And this morning, a slate grey, very squat, very muscular, Staffordshire Bull terrier charging down the road at me. This raised the heart rate.
The heat was taken out of the situation when the owner shouted “he will kill you with kindness”.  It turns out he just wanted to play. So we did. Our walk was only about 4kms, but enough to work up our appetites for breakfast.


Deciding to eat out for breakfast, for maybe the first time in the Hunter, we headed to Cafe Enzo at Peppers Creek which we had read good things about.  Taking the last available table in the courtyard, sheltering from the blazing sun under a large parasol, we had a wonderful breakfast of free range scrambled eggs on perfect sour dough toast.  Just the right amount of saltiness in the crust. The coffee was outstanding, and I followed up my double shot latte with a piccolo.

Quite remarkably, the heat continued to rise making even just walking tough.  So we chose to stay in the car a while, driving around the Hunter, making a plan for later in the day.  Following a stop for extra bottles of water at the general store in Pokolbin Village, we headed on to our first tasting of the day.  Leogate was another new vineyard, but much the same story at all the others. Great wines.

Equally good tastings followed at Piggs Peake, Tintilla, and Mistletoe Wines on Hermitage Road, with us concluding our day at Mount Pleasant.  We had planned to cycle around these vineyards, an activity that we usually see lots of people enjoying. For some reason, we hadn’t seen anybody “enjoying” it today.  This was because at 42° you would have to be a masochist to want to pedal anywhere. So we decided to call off the planned ride. The easiest decision of the day.

Bubbles, and serenity.

The evening was spent avoiding offal.  We had our traditional BBQ of easy to recognise meats, complemented by some of the excellent wine we had bought.  How many bottles were we up to now? Was anybody counting? Let’s just say that we won’t be running out any time soon.

No offal anywhere!

Sat, late into the evening, with a nightcap of Sullivan’s Cover single malt, from Tasmania, I was left reflecting on another excellent weekend, in the glorious Hunter Valley.

Having a retrospective on 2018

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In keeping with something I try and do each year, I am again reflecting on the year that just passed. And in the spirit of how I have been working in my professional life for much of 2018, I am doing it in the form of a retrospective.

A key event in Scrum* (the office based type, not outdoors on a field type) is the retrospective (retro). Done frequently, giving you and the team the opportunity to look back, to inspect and adapt, reflecting on what went well, and where you think you can improve in the next period. In practice, you should be having a retro at least fortnightly, not yearly, but you get the idea.

When I look back on last year’s post, I had a successful 2017. Areas for improvement in 2018 would have included doing my first yoga class (spoiler: it didn’t happen this year either), and doing more writing, which I am not totally happy with. By this I mean I would like to have done a lot more. And not just blogs, but more travel writing, and more fiction. Also building on my memoir experiment. A constant work in progress.

But, the overarching goal for every year that I am able to, is to learn something new, go somewhere different, and do something that I haven’t done before. I also want to read as many books as is humanly possible. The people who connect with me through the excellent app “Goodreads” will have seen my very ambitious target for 2018 was 120 books. This was a moonshot. And aiming for this allowed me to read a total of 115 books. A great achievement. I have slightly lowered my goal this year to 100. If you have any “must read” recommendations, send them through to me. I will add them to my ever expanding “to be read (tbr) pile”.

As I probably mentioned last year, having a list of goals suits me better than making up “New Year resolutions”. I don’t want the start of the year to be when I suddenly decide to improve myself. I want this to be an ongoing, ever evolving journey.  Here is what I wrote as my goals for 2018:  

  • Do a surf lesson – outcome:  Is there anything more quintessentially Australian, (other than hugging a koala bear, in your vest and flip flops, whilst cooking a prawn on the BBQ, chugging a coldie), than surfing? So many great ocean beaches. So much surf. And the romance of it all. Who hasn’t watched “Endless Summer”, or sang along to the Beach Boys, and not wanted to just get out there on their board? Well, as it turns out, me actually. I had thought this would be great, but on reflection, the reality of it does match the romance. I would be constantly falling off. I would be in danger of drowning in the swell. I would have salt water up my nose, and I would be choking. Have you even seen me trying to paddle board? ‘Nuff said.
  • Drop 4kgs – outcome:  This didn’t happen. But, the positives I take is that I didn’t put 4kgs on. I have come to the realisation that I love the lifestyle that I have, balancing being a bon vivant, with being mindful of my diet and exercise. I don’t want to be Joe Wicks. I want to be a healthy version of me. And I’m winning. For now. It is a precarious balance, but as I leave 2018 the same weight as I entered it, then I must be doing something right.  
  • Experience my first cold Xmas in 6 years – outcome:  I am afraid this was another where the romance of it was driving my thought process. My heart ruling my head. I really did start the year thinking I would be ending it in Canada, wrapped up warm, enveloped in North Face clothing, but revelling in my first cold Xmas since 2011. However, planning the summer holidays, in the depths of a July winters day, I already knew that I would again be having an antipodean Xmas. Prawns, bbqs, and beaches (as per above, minus the koala hugging).
  • Increase my knowledge of wine – outcome:  A success. Any casual observer of this blog, or anybody that knows me, will also know that I am a lover of good wine. Over the years my tastes have developed from drinking wine out of a box on long backpacking trips, to now being picky about exactly what region I want to drink my Cabernet from. A trip to Mudgee, NSW, in January kicked off the wine tasting year, and having the opportunity to taste wines in four completely new wine regions, in New Zealand, ended the year. I am still on my wine journey. I’ll never be a sommelier, but I do like to know my way around a wine list.
  • Visit somewhere new – outcome:  I managed to maintain this tradition, with my first visit to the paradise that is Hamilton Island, off the coast of Queensland, in the Whitsunday Islands. I wrote about this trip in an earlier blog. And just the thought of it brings me out in a beaming smile. I will be back.

In summary, I signed off 2018 in the same way that I started it. Happy. Energised. Positive. Excited and enthusiastic for the challenges and adventures ahead. I know this year will continue in the same vein. It is the year I will need to find a new job, as my current contract is coming to an end. I have thoroughly enjoyed my 2+ years there, but I stick to my motto, “always leave the party whilst you are enjoying it the most.”

This year brings a significant birthday (not mine) to plan for and celebrate, which will be done searching out the “big 5” on safari, with some wine tasting thrown in. There is my first visit back in 2 years to the UK to see my mum. Oh, and my sisters. And all my other family and friends.   Part of this trip will see me exploring places I haven’t yet seen. Will I win my fortune in Monte Carlo? Is Nice nice? How many Greek tavernas can i visit whilst in Santorini and Kos?

I will continue with my growth mindset, stretching myself personally, and professionally. On the personal front, doing more writing, even maybe entering a few short story competitions, or submitting a few travel articles. See if this takes me in any new directions. Do more meditation. It works. Trust me. And on the professional front, I will strive to become an even better coach, helping teams and organisations become their best selves.

You see, the possibilities are endless. I can’t wait to get started.

*Scrum – the latest and greatest in the world of software delivery. Move over PRINCE2, you are so passe. This is a job for Scrum, coupled with an “agile mindset”.

Glow worm kayak tour – New Zealand

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There are times you find yourself in the middle of something and you think to yourself, now this is a situation I hadn’t planned for.  This was one of those times. Kayaking, slowly, in the pitch black, in a torrential downpour, across a lake in Bethlehem. No, not Jerusalem, but a little suburb in the town of Tauranga, in the heart of the Bay of Plenty. Some 200 kms south of Auckland, on New Zealand’s north island.  Quite an apt town though, as it was Christmas.

In the almost silence, only punctuated by the rhythmic rowing of the paddles, I thought, “what am I doing here, in the cold, at night, steering a 2 person sea kayak towards a very dark canyon?”

As it happens I was on a glow worm tour with Waimarino Kayak Tours.  A tour that I would highly recommend. If you like being out in the heavy rain, in the dark, paddling across a lake into the unknown, hoping you don’t suffer the same fate as our lead guide, who discovered a spider crawling up his leg, which was entombed in his kayak.

Am I selling it to you?  Are you on the website right now, booking?  In all seriousness, you should be, because the whole experience was excellent.

Nineteen of us left the pick up point in a bus driven by one of the guides, Josh, whose hybrid accent told me he wasn’t a local.  The phrase “going oot in a boot” gave it away for me. Originally hailing from Victoria Island in Canada, he is a long way from home, following a time honoured template. Travel. Meet girl. Fall in love. Stay. He is not the first, and he won’t be the last.

After a short 20 minute drive, up through the lush green hills surrounding Bethlehem, we were parked up, and on the shore of Lake McLaren.  The first part of the tour was quaffing a selection of local wines and nibbling on delectable cheeses, and fresh fruits. The wines were very good, and from the Mills Reef winery, literally next door to where we were.  We were soon joined on the shore of the lake by some very inquisitive ducks, hungrily eyeing up the selection of crackers we had.

Don’t feed the ducks

I had planned to kayak in just my lightweight hoodie, thinking that as I wasn’t planning on tipping the kayak over then I wouldn’t be getting wet. Yeah, I know. Naive. How thankful was I that I was talked into making full use of the gear provided on the tour! The waterproof jacket and spray deck, that seals you into the kayak, were lifesavers.  Between the spray from the paddles, and the deluge of rain, I would have been completely drenched without them.

These should keep us dry

As dusk turned to dark, we got fitted into our kayaks, told how the feet paddles worked the rudder, and were slid from the launch onto the lake.  It couldn’t be easier. Left foot to go left. And right foot….well, you get the picture. That said, I am not sure the mother and daughter team did, watching them paddling around in manic circles.  I think they may be confusing their left from right.

Once we were all in, and our guides were strategically placed around us in formation, we slowly made our way up to the canyon.  Even on the way there, glancing at the trees around the lake, we could see the unmistakable sights of the glow worms, like a string of fairy lights festooning the trees. But this was nothing compared with what was to come.

Guided by only the red light on the back of the heads of the guides, and the constant tidbits of very useful information, we slowly paddled up the lake, and into the canyon.  And what a sight greeted us. Hundreds, nay, thousands of little shimmering lights adorned the walls of the canyon. Across both sides, and seemingly everywhere. A moment to take in.  As we all rested in our kayaks, and enjoyed the silence, but for the sounds of birds, and whatever other creatures were out there. This was why I was here.

The interesting thing is, glow worms don’t really exist. Not really.  What we were seeing were fungus gnats (arachnocampa luminosa).  Don’t sound quite as appealing do they?  And so the tour companies rename them as glow worms, knowing that this would sell more tours. The fungus gnats are bioluminescent, which is the blue/green light you can see when it is dark. The brighter the light, the hungrier the glow worm, as this is what they use to attract prey. What you don’t see, thankfully in my opinion, is the sticky webs they create, and drop down like hanging mucus, to catch their food. Fascinatingly, the glow worms can even turn off their light to preserve energy, such as when there is too much light, or if they feel threatened.

Driver, follow that kayak

As the glow worms are essentially the larval, or maggot stage of the fungus gnat fly, there is a natural lifecycle, which results, after a period of between 9 and 12 months in the fly hatching.  The bad news for the fly is that it is born without a mouth, meaning it can not feed, and has a lifespan of only 4 days. The good news is that those 4 days are purely for mating, and producing eggs for the whole cycle to begin again.

In my awe, I had almost forgotten it was raining.  That was until we exited the canyon, and had to make our way back to the kayak launch point. Getting a little wet was such a small price to pay to see such a natural wonder. Would I do it again?   In a heartbeat.