You just can't beat it

"I have heard of it blowing a gale, and half a gale, but if ever it blew a gale and a half it is doing so at the present moment." - Lieutenent Best.

Let me tell you a little something about my city: Wellington, New Zealand.

Because of the funnel effect created by the close proximity of the north and south island's mountain ranges, or what the Maori once called the "river of wind", Wellington is notorious for its wind. Every now and then, that wind is a southerly that makes its way up the country with remnants of Antarctica on its tail. Sometimes it rains, and we all know the city is often not the nicest place to be when it rains, let alone when that rain is travelling sideways, lashing your entire body, no matter how hard you try and cover up with jackets and boots and scarves - and don't even bother with an umbrella.

The wind actually nearly prevented Wellington from becoming a city at all. Before the early nineteenth century, people found it extremely hard to put down roots here, and it wasn't until British sailing ships found sanctury in its harbour that it became an attractive option for colonial settlement.

"Yet even as the raw township grew into a thriving metropolis, there was always that sense of living on a fault-line, of frail wooden houses clinging to hillsides that might throw them off any minute." - Wellington: Biography of a City by Redmer Yska

However, us Wellingtonians have a little saying that gets us through the harsh winter winds and sideways rain: "You can't beat Wellington on a good day."

And you really can't. I would challenge anyone not to smile when the sun is out in this amazing city.

And although today we've had some pretty intense wind, grey skies and a bit of rain, this is what it looked like this time last week, on the last day of winter:

Happy Monday :)

My what a weekend it has been! I feel like I need another weekend just to get over this one - I mean, I love being busy, but sometimes I just wish for a weekend where there is absolutely nothing on; a weekend that is sunny of course; one that we can spend lazing on the beach. Lucky for us it's spring in less than two weeks! The light is already lasting longer at night... bring on daylight savings!
On Saturday my brother and his girlfriend came back from a trip overseas - she had been gone three months, he was gone for five weeks - and we welcomed them back with a very kiwi weekend (quite unintentionally - the kiwi stuff just kinda happened...) We had a barbecue with both families, drank some beer and some wine, played Pictionary, then watched the All Blacks beat the Wallabies. Then on Sunday we had roast lamb and I made Lemon Meringue Pie, which was pretty darned amazing for a first attempt, and they showed us their photos - yes I was jealous (I've been trying very hard not to be, telling myself "it will be your turn soon") It was great to have them back and hear their stories, and it has definitely made Joshua and I think more about our own trip, which will be happening in 2014.
So what did you get up to this weekend friends? Have a lovely week! xo

Would you read this book?

Missing Since Tuesday
by Sarah Hardie

It's the year 2009 in Wellington, New Zealand, where orphans Duncan and Sophia Grant live quiet, often lonely lives. He studies history; she struggles through a thankless government job.
Duncan meets a chatty, popular girl named Maria who is drawn to him just as he is drawn to her, despite their polar opposite personalities. Their fragile partnership is doomed from the start, and is shattered one day at Wellington's rugged south coast where Maria slips and falls into the violent sea - or so they think.

On his death bed, Duncan's grandfather tells him the secret of the rocks - they have the power to send people back in time and, determined to save the love of his life, a frantic Duncan, who is slowly losing his sense of reality, finds himself in the midst of World War Two.

Worried for her brother, Sophia follows and begins her own love story with Arthur, a railway worker who has also lost the love of his life, though to murder, not accident, and once their paths cross, powerful secrets are revealed that will test their relationship and their individual lives, which are changed forever as they all chase love through time in a world turned upside down by war, racing against the clock to bring everyone back to where they belong.

This is the blurb to my first novel-in-progress... what do you think? Would you read it?

The price of paradise



Mt Ruapehu Eruption, 1995

On Monday night, one of New Zealand's volcanoes, Mt Tongariro went... BOOM! For the first time in over a hundred years. As is expected with these kinds of things, the media has done its best to freak us out... We've always known that if Lake Taupo, a tourist hotspot in the middle of the North Island and also a massive volcano, were to erupt, most of New Zealand would be toast. It would be like Pompeii up in here. Apparently Lake Taupo is a "super volcano, which erupted 1800 years agoin the most violent eruption known in the world in the past 5000 years" My colleague tells me people in Rome saw the ash clouds... how she knows that, no idea... but it's a scary thought... Rome is pretty far away.

Ash from the eruption - photo from Stuff.co.nz

Growing up dealing with earthquakes and seeing the 1995 eruption of Mt Ruapehu among others, New Zealanders have always known they live on some pretty volitile land. But it didn't actually hit me as to just how volitile it is until I took an American friend of mine to Te Papa, the National Museum of New Zealand, last year, and showed him around the Awesome Forces exhibit, which "shows how plate tectonics, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and erosion have shaped one of the most dynamic landscapes in the world". We live on really, really fragile ground... and because New Zealand is so small, Something that happens in Cape Reinga is felt in Bluff - everyone feels the pinch, the worry, the ocassional panic.

There are a lot of whingers in this country who get disappointed by the election results or live in fear of death by nature, who harp on about greener pastures overseas. About how New Zealand's economy is going down the tubes and we're all going to die one day in a volcanic eruption or an earthquake. But you know what, you pay a price for paradise, and I would rather live through earthquakes and the ocassional volcanic eruption than live in constant fear of poisonous snakes and spiders, getting shot as I walk down the street, or destroying my body with polluted "air".

Part of me (a slightly morbid part I'll admit) feels oddly comforted by the fact that there are some things on earth that are simply out of our control. As humans, we like to think we are top of the table in this world, but in fact, we are all at the mercy of nature, and if nature decides to sweep us away with an earthquake, tsunami, or volcanic eruption, then there's nothing we can do about it.

Although we've grown up in a culture that is largely shaped by our active geology and our country, just like any other, is not perfect, we've also grown up with the knowledge that many people who don't live here believe we live in paradise. I believe it too, and I wouldn't live anywhere else.

Click photos for sources

The Agfa experiment

I have a bit of a thing for cameras... My count is currently up to eight vintage, new, near-new, film, manual, digital, polaroid cameras. One of my favourites is my Agfa, simply because a) It looks awesome, and b) it takes beautiful grainy photos that make things look like they're 100 years old.
So this is my first experiment with the Agfa... not the best photos in the world, but I like them anyway because they're of Wellington and I love black and white/vintage photography. And there's nothing quite like taking care when you take a photo because you don't want to waste film and then waiting a week before you can make the trip across town to one of the only places in the city that develops film, then waiting another week for it to be developed, then going back in, choosing the good ones to get printed, then waiting another week before going back to collect your prints. Just like the old days :).

Happy Friday! Have a fabulous weekend :)

We will remember them

One of the reasons autumn is my favourite season is because of those days that make you want to sit on the slightly damp grass under the impossibly blue sky and gulp in as much fresh air as possible. It’s those days that look like summer, minus the scorching heat that is replaced by air with an icy edge. The freshness of it feels like the moment the clock strikes 12am on January 1st each year – it’s the start of something new and exciting.
Yesterday was one of those days. April 25th; a day of both mourning and national pride for New Zealand and Australia as we commemorate Anzac Day. We bow our heads in prayer and thanks to those ordinary men who became extraordinary heroes who are remembered nearly one hundred years on.
The number of people attending Anzac services around the country and around the world steadily increases each year as the number of veterans dwindles, and for that, I personally feel extremely proud of my fellow New Zealanders, and glad that those men and women who fought for our right to live free are remembered.
Usually I get up before dawn to attend the dawn service at the cenotaph in Wellington and last year I reported on the Masterton dawn service. But this year, I decided to do something different.
While working for the Wairarapa Times-Age, I became aware of a tiny rural Wairarapa town called Tinui, which was the first place in the world to hold an Anzac Day service on April 25, 1916. Reverend Basil Ashcroft held a service for the people of Tinui at the Church of the Good Shepherd, before a group of men and boys carried a wooden cross up Mt Maunsell which would serve as a memorial to those who had died in the war. It was replaced by an aluminium cross in 1965, which was given a category one Historic Places Trust Classification last year.
I researched the place, and found I could not get its story out of my head. While numerous news stories had been written about it over the years, I felt the town and its people deserved its story to be told in more than just a few articles, so I approached the chairman of the Tinui Anzac Trust and proposed that I write a book about it.
To my surprise, he took me completely seriously despite my age and the fact I have never written a book before and gave me a tour of the town and told me of its history. At the end of the tour, he thanked me for taking on the project and said he was grateful that the younger generation was still interested in the Anzac story.
And so I took my first step towards making this dream become a reality yesterday, and, with my parents and sister in tow, we drove the one hour, 45 minutes from Stokes Valley to Tinui to stand in the brilliant sunshine outside the War Memorial Hall. As the tui sang behind us, the New Zealand flag flew proudly in front of us as people spoke and prayed and together we sang our national anthem before tears of sadness and gratitude came to our eyes at the sound of the Last Post as three war planes flew over our small gathering.
Following the service, we were treated to some country hospitality in the hall, with a massive morning tea spread, and then we made our way towards Mt Maunsell, where we half walked, half rode quad bikes on the trail walked 97 years ago by the people of Tinui to carry the cross to the top.
A few metres from the top, I wondered aloud why they had chosen that particular spot, and on reaching the cross and looking out over the town of Tinui surrounded by acres and acres of farmland, I had my answer. For there, at the top of the mountain, I felt the spirits of the fallen were very much alive and from that point, they could watch over their town, seeing it change and grow as the people in it live their lives free from war because of their sacrifice. And from the town below, its people can look up and be reminded of the realities of war and the freedom of peace.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

 

See more photos here

A beautiful day to be in Wellington

On April 1st, the Royal New Zealand Airforce celebrated it's 75th anniversary and yesterday, it treated Wellington to a brilliant show of Red Checkers which flew around the harbour and over the city at lunchtime. And it just happened to be one of those rare "you can't beat Wellington on a good day" days - no wind, brilliant blue sky, and hot sunshine. Simply gorgeous.

Time to write

So, as most of my lovely loyal followers will know, I'm working on my first novel. But at the moment, I'm finding it quite stressful, as my head is near explosion, so full of ideas as it is; my emails that I write to myself from work when I'm seized by inspiration and have to write something down are piling up; and bits of paper are littering my desk at home, full of bits of chapters, sentences, character ideas, plot ideas, and about five different prologues.
And I have NO TIME to organise it all! All I want to do is write - I want a little Organisation Fairy to come into my study, log into my computer and organise all my mess, and then I want to pack up my laptop and a bag, jump in my car and take off to a cabin in the wilderness so I can just write.
Isn't it crazy how you try and try to live life in the slow lane but somehow your life just is not meant to be that way. I thought making the move away from journalism - which swallowed up my time, my conscience, and my soul - to move back closer to my family and friends would allow me to slow it down a bit, but it seems to have become even more frantic. Sure, I'm not driving over the hill every weekend and living out of an overnight bag, which was very exhausting, but now that I'm back, and in the big city, there is just so much to do, so many opportunities, so much to experience. And there are so many people to see.
Not that I'm complaining. I'm not. I like that my life is busy, but sometimes we all just need time out from everything and everyone and in a perfect world, we would like to do it without upsetting anyone.
For me, all I want is to make a dent in my novel - I want to feel like I've made some progress, and I want to be able to show someone the first few chapters and have them tell me what they think of it.
So I'm thinking, in the spring maybe, of taking a week off to write. Even though that's a few months away, I'm content to wait.
So I Googled "Writers' Retreats NZ" (in an ideal world, I would be Googling "Writers' Retreats Italy", but money doesn't grow on trees people) and was surprised to find that there are a few good retreats around these parts, so I thought I would share some with you in case you are having the same troubles and are dreaming of escape. I also stumbled across a great blog called Shameless Words by fellow New Zealander Seamus Kearney, who is also working on his first novel, so I'm extending some blog love thataways, make sure you have a peek!

Haurata High Country Retreat - Gisborne

New Pacific Studio - Wairarapa

Tauhara - Lake Taupo

The Writers' Retreat - Kerikeri

If all else fails, I might just hire my uncle's beach house up the coast, or hole myself up in the local library for a week... do you think they would let me sleep there? haha. Where would be your ideal place to retreat to? Have you had or are you having the same problem as me? Any advice on how to organise your life and get motivated?

Sarah xo

We don't know how lucky we are, mate

Have you got the song in your head now? Sorry about that... but I do too. It's a song that pops into my head often, especially when, from my seemingly secluded place in the quiet, friendly suburbs I call home, I am 15 minutes drive from the beach, albeit a rocky, rugged beach. I'm 40 minutes from golden sandy beaches. I'm 30 minutes from the city. I'm 5-20 minutes away from stunning bush walks (they're everywhere) where you feel like you're on another planet that is far, far away from the city. I'm 5 minutes away from a river where many childhood summer days were spent cooling off and jumping off cliffs. I'm 20 minutes away from a regional park where my friends and family and I have more than once rocked up with a couple of tents and a chilly bin and set up camp wherever we wanted, taking up as much space as we needed, for just $5. I'm even just an hour away from "the country", a place full of farms, side-of-the-road fruit stalls, world class vineyards, and boutique bakeries.
Now, I hope you don't think I'm showing off... But I truly love where I live. I feel so lucky. How many other places in the world can you be within an hour of pretty much EVERYTHING?
I didn't always feel this way. As a teenager, I always dreamed of travelling the world for years and years, of experiencing all the beautiful places there are outside of New Zealand. But what I have begun to realise over the last few years (even though I do still want to travel, but for months, not years), after leaving New Zealand once for three months to travel across America and then moving away (within New Zealand) from where I grew up, is that I live in one of the coolest places in the entire world.
I now see the city of Wellington in a whole new light. I look around in wonder as I walk to work, marvelling at the historic buildings, thinking of the people who created them; the buskers and travellers sitting on the footpath selling their wares and entertaining lunchtime crowds; the harbour with wind that literally nearly knocks you over, the historic houses piled up on the hills; the cable car that has carried many generations of Wellingtonians up to the Terrace and down to Lambton Quay.
When I see tourists fresh off the cruise ships that dock in the habour, I swell with pride, knowing that this is my city. These are my buildings, my people - it's all of ours and that makes us all extremely lucky.
A five and a half hour hike up Belmont Regional Park last weekend drove this point home yet again. Even though we've lived here all our lives, we still can't get over the fact that just 20 minutes drive away from home, you can be in the absolute wilderness, climbing up a hill.
It was all my idea, of course. You might remember I wrote a post about my fitness goal: to walk the Tongariro Alpine Crossing next summer, to make my gym efforts worth it. So I roped in my family to come hiking with me and we thought we would start small with a nice walk through Belmont Regional Park. We went up one hill and I decided we hadn't quite done enough, so we walked up another hill because we had been told there were amazing views. I don't actually know how long it took to get up there, but it was absolute torture. Every time we emerged from the bush and saw a small clearing, we thought it was the end. But there was no trig station in sight. So we had to keep going. With Josh walking behind my sister and I physically pushing us up the hill, we made it to the top, lungs burning, legs aching, faces beetroot red, trying not to think about the fact that we had to walk back down the hill.
But man was it worth it.
There we stood, on top of the world, our world, with a 360 degree view of all that we call home.
Lucky, lucky, lucky.

Happy Monday :)

The sun is shining and it's set to be a beautiful week here in Wellington, so Happy Monday people, hope your week is off to a good start. :)

“If things start happening, don't worry, don't stew, just go right along and you'll start happening too.”

- Dr. Seuss

(This photo is part of a wee adventure we had in Wellington on the weekend which I shall tell you about later in the week:)

Dreaming of... Lake Wanaka in Autumn

In a few weeks time, Lake Wanaka, Queenstown will start to look like this...

Photo from here

Photo from here

Couldn't you just imagine being that couple sitting together on the bench, all wrapped up looking out at the lake, surrounded by fallen autumn leaves?

It's funny how New Zealand is such a small country and I have lived here my whole life, yet I've only seen half of it. I feel a southern roadtrip calling...

Happy weekend xo