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Postcard about Birdwoods, New Zealand

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I saw elephants in New Zealand, at Birdwoods, strolling across the frosty grass. It felt strangely right, to see them in Havelock North, at the home/gallery/cafe/shop, of Zimbabwean friends of mine, Louise and Bruce Stobart.

At the end of June 2022, I spent three days with them, surrounded by art and hospitality. It was fascinating and wonderful, and full of bounce, despite the low ebb of tourists and seasonal workers that winter. New Zealand had just re-opened its borders post-pandemic and, like everywhere else, was trying to adjust to a new reality.

My memories of my stay, are of laughter, of greenery, and of art. And for me, what added that little extra, was the white waddle of the ducks beneath the trees as they went about their day, ignoring the visitors, the masterpieces, and the gentle bongs of the giant windchime. Every so often they would splash into the pond, unphased by the lifesize metal crocodile who kept watch by the fountain. I hope they, and all at Birdwoods, have had a good summer.

(‘Snow Queen‘ below is by Zimbabwean sculptor, Lovemore Bonjisi. She may since have found new owners, but she looked completely at home in the Birdwoods garden, surrounded by other Zimbabwean carvings and sculptures).

Here is a link to Birdwoods with more information

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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Thoughts on a postcard – volcanic land

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This is about my New Zealand bus trip from Tauranga to Hastings, at the end of June last year.

The map told me I’d be travelling through the heart of volcano land. I imagined towering peaks, and dark valleys, with the bus winding along a lonely road, cold in the shadows. Well, I was wrong.

Our bus trip, especially the Rotorua to Taupō section was volcanic – but it wasn’t the lofty, Vesuvius kind of volcanic. It was understated and unexpected, for me at least. I was nodding off, head against the window, when I realised the bush on the edge of the road was smoking. And it wasn’t a bonfire. Steam seeped through the earth, sometimes in plumes, other times shifting in veils.

Then came Taupō, the town on the edge of the massive lake by the same name. We never saw much of the lake from the bus, but during the stop I found this view at the end of the street, with the type of peaks I’d been expecting. The lake looks tranquil, yet the land over which it is lying is not. Beneath the water is the restless caldera of a supervolcano, one that has erupted with enough force to earn it the top score (8) on the VEI (Volcanic Explosivity Index). Vesuvius only managed a 5. Thankfully there has been no massive eruption since 232CE, although there have been some shaky bouts.

I took my photograph of the beautiful lake, bought a coffee, then climbed back on to the bus, and we headed on to Hastings, winding down through endless slopes of pine plantations, some freshly planted, some reaching maturity, others just stumps.

By the time we reached Hastings it was dark.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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Postcard from Te Puke, New Zealand

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We had such a good time, staying on a kiwifruit farm in Te Puke. (In case you’re wondering the word is not ‘puke’, it’s more like pookie. And these are young kiwifruit vines.)

It was great to be on a farm again. We stayed in a lovely farmhouse, surrounded by trees, some full of citrus, and others full of flowers – magnolias and camellias I think. And there were lots of tiny birds – fantails. They came so close, whirring up to us as we walked around the vines.

Never realised until I got there, how famous the area is for its kiwifruit. They were growing everywhere. You could spot the lands, because of the high hedges running along them to stop the wind. The pickers had just harvested the fruit on the farm where we were staying. Wish I’d seen that. It’s all done by hand, with the old vines trellised just high enough for the pickers to stand beneath, and the rows just wide enough for a little tractor to fit between. Everything so precise. I think China and Japan get most of the fruit, especially the golden kiwi, which are delicious. The golden ones grow up wires suspended like tipis.

Hard to believe it’s almost seven months since I was there.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023