John and Cathy are experienced international RV travelers. This is the last guest blog about their epic RV trip to New Zealand!
Kia ora. The traditional Maori words greet you on your Air New Zealand flight and at the airport upon arrival. But, unlike some welcome signs that grace airports around the world, the Kiwis really mean it. All of our other posts concentrated on beautiful places and things. In this, our final post, we would like to pay tribute to the helpful and incredibly kind people of New Zealand. These good people seem to have a genuine realization that they are stewards of a very special place that they must protect and preserve. A place that they also really love to show off to visitors. In our travels we met many Kiwis who impressed us in so many ways.
Kia ora began at the customs and immigration counters where we were greeted with smiles and checked in with a gracious and welcoming attitude. There were young barristas at the first coffee shop who patiently explained (I’m sure not for the first time) the options for buying coffee and helped us to settle on a “flat white.” There was the attendant at the Sky City hotel, who upon finding that we would have a long taxi ride to pick up the motorhome, called a taxi that would negotiate the fare, did the negotiation for us, and saved us about $20.
The staff at the various campgrounds were so very helpful when we registered. They made sure we were happy and helped us book memorable tours and experiences that we might have otherwise missed. Their pride in their town or area was evident as they told us about some little place that we really shouldn’t miss, and always with a genuine smile.
Several individuals need special mention. One whose name we never did learn but eventually called Mr. Blue Shirt. We came upon him while walking around Lake Rotorua. He was feeding bread to the birds when he invited us to join him–and we struck up a pleasant, far-reaching conversation. He seemed genuinely interested in our views of world events, some going back to the assassination of JFK. We said, “good-bye” and continued on our walk. A bit later we decided to stop and enjoy the lunch we had packed and found a few benches among the beautiful roses in the Government Gardens. To our surprise, Mr. Blue Shirt appeared from the nearby parking lot. He explained that he thought we would pass along here and he remembered that he had not told us about a local “gem” that we would enjoy seeing. He explained where St. Faith’s Church was (we never would have found it on our own) and that we should go in and admire an etching of Christ. He really didn’t have to spend time hunting us down, but he did and our New Zealand experience was made richer for his effort.
The ferry ride through Cook Strait takes about 3 hours. Cathy and I were sitting at a table for four at the front of the observation level with a beautiful view. A lady, about our age, asked if she could sit at our table and we, of course, ascented. As we introduced ourselves and began talking we shared how much we have in common. Catherine told us about her family and where she was from and how much she loved living in New Zealand. Her conversation not only helped to pass the time, it enriched our perceptions of her country.
The Cummings, our exchange student’s family, will forever be ingrained in our consciousness. Chris and Hillary, Ria’s Mom and Dad, went out of their way to make sure that our plans for the trip were sound. We emailed each other a lot during our planning stages. When we finally arrived at their home they treated us to genuine Kiwi hospitality, offering us a beautiful, comfortable room and grand meals and drinks. Ria and her husband Hamish gave up a weekend to drive to her parent’s house to see us and show off their cute son, Lucas.
Chris took us on a tour of Arrowtown, a former mining settlement, now a chic little town, and to Queenstown to see the shops and experience the view from the top of Bob’s Peak. He refused to let us pay for anything, despite my protests. I am certain that our trip would not have been as memorable as it was if it had not been for the Cummings hospitality and thoughtfulness.
This short essay can not do justice to the debt we owe the people we have mentioned here and the many, many others who made our New Zealand holiday the remarkable experience that it was. Hei Kona ra and ehara koei a ia! Thank you and goodbye
