Hawaii - Aloha

 

14 March 2012

Ocean, ocean, Pacific Ocean, grey sky, cloudy sky, blue sky and oh yes a ship, an enormous cruise ship I am certainly on a fabulous ship sailing towards my friends in America.

Honolulu the most densely populated area in the whole of the United States, a small island in the Pacific Ocean. The first I knew we were there I looked out the porthole on the morning of 13th March. The prow of a black ship much smaller than ours, maybe 50-60 feet, or 20 metres long with white writing on the bow, keeping pace very close to our cruise vessel. Behind the black boat, (I think the Coast Guard), a few industrial buildings visible such as you find in a commercial port. We were also going much slower than usual and the water seemed calmer. I'd arisen as soon as I awoke, so excited were were to be in port, it was around 7.30am.

We'd been provided with detailed instructions beforehand re how to disembark. Those booked on excursions were to go through immigration first. We passengers had also been talking amongst ourselves about the best way to approach immigration and most people, who'd been through the process before, said it all seemed to be the same as usual. It would just take a bit of time. No one had any problem with security measures just with the queuing, so it was best to just follow procedure, not try to jump the queue at all.

So I reported at the time I was supposed to and only had to wait on one of the wooden chairs on deck, (with a comfy blue striped cushion upon it) for about half an hour. I could see the Aloha Tower to my right and Pier 11 building, both in Art Deco style, cream painted with a sea-green trim and so on, directly in front of me. My friend Anne, who works in Hawaii said we could meet in front of that very tower, so I was glad to know I was in the right place. After a while I also joined a line of people headed for one of the nightclubs on board. Tables were set up on the dance-floor there, with officers to question us and stamp our passports at each one. Eventually, I was allowed on ahead into the immigration area to sit and wait, with others who have difficulty walking, since I couldn't stand or walk for long without sitting down along the way.

Off we went after the tedious queuing, (yes, there was some) to check through security with our bags and cards, then down the gangplank with white canvas sides and along the quay in warm weather, turned into the cavernous port building high enough to take our ship for dry dock it seemed to me, but by the time I got through to the other side, I realised our ship towered way above that terminal building.

Surprising to see so few people and so little traffic in port-side Honolulu, even if the place was built-up and skyscrapers stood a short distance away past a park and shopping arcade. Someone remarked the next lunch-time on board ship that during the hotter part of the day, many people in Hawaii take a rest, a siesta-style break. So sensible in hot countries. This gave me a chance to wander around without feeling bothered by crowds or new people right away. Many souvenir shops near the wharf of course, with some fine silk imported clothes on offer, also excellent Hawaiian shirts, (the classic re-worked in various ways with a style to suit just about anybody), and a local girl wore a fitted designer version of the sundress, with cap sleeves and a full skirt to her knee in a local print with palm leaves on it, green, yellow and white. This really impressed me. Anne later explained that the locals dress in a kind of uniform where the men wear Hawaiian shirts and the women wear lovely dresses in local fabrics.

Everyone in the shops said, 'Aloha,' and I'd love to hear, 'Kia Ora' said at home more often. Aloha is also written on the buses beside the door when you enter to take a ride somewhere.

I'm not sure that much of what I saw near the wharf was made in Hawaii, but some excellent clothes and so on were available.

Further along towards the city I walked. An enormous sailing boat with three masts sat at berth. It looked rather worse for wear and maybe 50 or 70 years old. The hull painted black with a cream and red trim. A woman who played bridge with me the next day mentioned that it was part of the Maritime Museum, a sign of the lack of funds which has afflicted the place. The museum is closed now due to financial support being unavailable. A number of large, valuable old vessels are simply mouldering away too, with no funds to restore them.

Large stone or concrete blocks painted green announced ALOHA near the Aloha Tower arcade. A passing man who looked rather worn out asked me with mime and in accented English for a cigarette. He wore a grey hoodie and looked cold even if it was a warm day. I shook my head, no I did not have any and turned away. His eyes ran over my camera, my jewellery, briefly, then dismissively perhaps because I wear and use little of great or easy resale value. I did not feel at all threatened, it was just he looked kind of interested like almost anyone would. I'd been told to prepare myself for the amount of homeless people there would be, so I was not as amazed as I could've been to see this person approach me. He looked sad and ill more than anything else. I wished I knew what to do to make things better but of course, I didn't, not right then.

At a bus stop across the road, I sat around, chatted with other tourists, read some signs, tried to gather information re buses to see the city. A colourful blonde, tall woman with a reddish suntan got off a bus. She smiled broadly and strode about in gold wedge high heels. I think she tried to get my attention and the eye of others passing along from the boat recently arrived. I did my best to ignore her, the elaborate tattoos along her arms and up her back, (the reddish-orange batik silk dress she wore to the ground was a halter). One of my rules when travelling is to beware of anything far too interesting, especially people.

At first I tried one of the colourful, open-sided trolley-buses but discovered they are a private charter only. That was what the driver said, but it could've been he was speaking the wrong language in a commentary to the majority of the passengers for me to understand, (he was presuming I could not speak Japanese, possibly). So I observed various buses and eventually boarded one of the red buses with an open top, a double-decker with the roof missing. The tattooed, charismatic woman also got on and proceeded to try to get my attention again, (what a fine Irish accent she had) but I still behaved like I lived in a bubble and the story of her along with someone else, will be in the poetry collection I'm sketching in at present to be released perhaps by the end of the year.

So the open-topped bus - what a fantastic ride and a wonderful way to see Honolulu for an hour or so. We travelled all the way to Waikiki Beach made famous by Elvis movies, Hawaii Five-O the TV show, and countless others. Highly developed compared to the images from those Blue Hawaii days. There was a building boom in the 1960s and a lot of apartment buildings and other buildings have a distinct 60s flavour. I loved much of the architecture. On the way back I was impressed with a bright pink building, for instance, which houses a design company. It'll be in my little movie I'll post soon.

Everywhere massive, dense trees and lush gardens, which I recall my mother loved on her visits to this lovely island. My mother had a green thumb and could make almost anything grow, however many of these tropical plants would not grow outside in New Zealand, only indoors or in a glasshouse. Absolutely stunning to see the rich variegated foliage and brightly coloured flowers of these exotic, (to me) plants, great banks of them outside hotels and apartment buildings or in public parks, many man-made waterfalls here and there too, lush grass (it had rained for weeks before we arrived, unusually), countless tall coconut palms, other palms, fancy twisted trees and with some gigantic trees there were massive bunches of dark brown aerial roots hanging down from the tops of some of them, like something out of a wild fairy story. I've taken many photographs which will be put into a little movie later on, as mentioned.

We also meet a local man when I did finally meet Anne outside the Aloha Tower. She'd been in one place outside the Aloha Tower Arcade and I'd been by the Aloha Tower itself. A bit of a mixup but we got together eventually. Anne had been by the information booth, she got talking with Art who works here, employed by the Aloha Tower complex to assist people. He also calls himself a human camera, and offered to draw my picture for me in three minutes, free of charge. While Art drew we chatted and when he found out we were both writers, he mentioned a book which he illustrated, a young adult novel. (Anne also informed me of this, earlier). But Art told me they did not have Trees for Travel in Hawaii as far as he knew. They did celebrate Arbour Day and schoolchildren planted many trees then. I could also see trees if I wanted to, they grew everywhere on the island.

Art looked truly interested in what I had to say and maybe he'll add Trees for Travel to his busy life, as an excursion for tourists?  The young man also ran a shopping service from the booth, using his laptop. I was so pleased to meet someone who fully understood what I was suggesting, having asked on three Pacific Islands so far.

I found this experience truly American in the everyday sense, since he was so generous, open, friendly and also interested in being of service and doing business with us in such a charming way. That's my experience of Americans who live in America anyway, my friends made online over the last 12 years or so, people I'm going to meet over the next month and who I will tell you about as best I can.

This account does veer all over the place but hey, I'm really enthralled. Why do I need to be overly orderly with the spirit of Aloha upon me?

At some point on my bus ride around Honolulu during the day, by the way, I fell in love with the place. The warm air, the wind in my air, the sway of the bus and seeing gorgeous trees everywhere, great architecture which suits a beachy place and also a city, people so friendly or at least attractive, happy for the most part. At one point a large local man in a cream Hawaiin shirt, white-framed sunglasses as round as the moon, he spied our bright red open-topped bus and threw his arms up as if to embrace us, beaming a smile at the people travelling by. I had to laugh and smile in return. Can't tell you why I fell in love exactly of course, but I'm pleased that I've enjoyed more or less the same experience my mother knew, and understand now why she always spoke of this beautiful island in such glowing terms and with such excitement in her voice, because now I'm entranced too.

Anne and I returned to Waikiki late afternoon on a public bus this time, chatting all the way about this and that. She told me that where they live it is quiet and a suburb, which is fine since it's restful, pleasant and close to work. The times that she's come down to Waikiki beach too the place always energises her and she finds it exciting in a really pleasant, amiable fashion. There along the shore with palm trees softening the sky, so many people's humanity is truly evident for some reason. I had to agree.

Just on my short drive past earlier in the red double-decker bus I noticed what a glorious stretch of coastline people enjoyed at Waikiki, much longer than I expected and with more features like a man-made waterfall over a cluster of rocks, a Chanel shop, (serious other haute couture too just as we arrived), a lovely shaded area with seats, carefully paved, wide footpaths, many gardens, sparkling ocean in a magnificent bay, classic 60s apartment buildings, views of the lush inland landscape of Hawaii including an outcrop called I think, Diamond Head, many coconut palms just like the postcards would have you believe, stacks of large-size surfboards back in again, and everyone beautiful, casually dressed people from all over the world. Not that everybody looked like a God on the face of the earth but something about the balmy air, the light, the hearted spirit of the place gets most people looking relaxed, happy and to me this gave them all a certain beauty. There were also the most healthy, fit people I have seen in one place for a long time. People in Hawaii spend a lot of time outdoors and they have good food, Anne explained later, this is good for pretty well everyone's health.

I have to mention it was heart-rending to see many homeless people in Hawaii, and also to hear that they are not permitted to park the trolleys on the footpath for very long. If they do park them, their trolleys are taken away, for good. So the city is removing the very last things that these people own, except for what they carry on their person. I do not believe it is a good idea to make the marginalised move completely off the page. We are all part of the story here, or anywhere. I believe the city needs to do more to assist those people not to make their lives worse, this needs to be done world-wide.

After walking a great distance over beautifully paved footpaths, a mosaic of large greyish and white-ish stones in haphazard, crazy-paving, we both made our way back towards the street where Anne believed we could find a Thai restaurant. This was also near the bus stop which would take us eventually towards my cruise ship, (yes, it is mine now, I love it so), and Anne to her bus-stop to take another bus home. On the way I had to sit down as I do sometimes when my arthritis pains me.

We decided on something refreshing. I had a chocolate and hazelnut gelato and Anne chose a cup of tea. Just as the sun was setting and even though it's over in a flash, I had to agree with the palm trees in the foreground and the people gently walking to and fro I found it all most picturesque. A swathe of changing reds, oranges and pinks across the sky for a few minutes, perhaps ten or so but one of the loveliest sights I have seen. But do remember when watching a sunset, we must never look directly at the sun, it damages our eyes.

We talked away, swapped news and views, observed where we were and Anne told me a little of the local history and so on. In the middle of one of these conversations while we sat outside the gelato shop, I noticed a man was dropping pieces of cabbage on the ground. Anne pointed under a chair by our table. A large ginger guinea pig was eating away at one of the leaves. The tanned and rather handsome young man had decided to bring his pet down to Waikiki Beach to show it off to people, an excuse for conversation, a way to pass the time. All about us many people were enjoying themselves in this relaxed fashion. A little further along the road, hula demonstrations took place with flaming torches going along the foreshore and hula music played boldly, buskers performed music at intervals including one Santa Claus playing the violin, (who as Anne said, must've been really hot in those clothes) and sometimes local music played from shops.

Eventually, we conquered the charm of Waikiki, Hawaii enough to find somewhere to satisfy our hunger, a Korean restaurant at the end of a short side street, an alley really but quite swish. Yet another souvenir market at the end of it, too. Examined the menu outside to see what was on offer and the prices. Some dishes within our budget. Then we looked in the window and saw mainly Korean people eating there. Decided this was a very good sign, walked in and held up two fingers, (in the peace sign position) to indicate we were the entire party.

Sure enough for around $18- each we were delivered of many plates of small appetisers with white rice plus two bowls of delicious soup. Mine was tofu and pork, and I think Anne's may have have been chicken and vegetable. We also ordered a Budweiser beer each. I wanted to try this famous beer for myself and never had, (a light rather sweet beer served with a frosty glass, a pleasant touch considering the hot weather). Beer like lager also most often goes with many Asian dishes, I think.

All over the walls and ceiling of the small place were sheets of white paper with drawings and commendations, comments made by various customers, some in Korean and some in other languages. Each small poster was covered in plastic and made a novel, attractive decor for a busy restaurant of this fresh, down-to-earth style.

After about an hour we went to the bus stop and waited. I noticed a man with his shoes off and tattooed arms benignly observing a man, woman and a child sitting on the bus bench seat next to his. I wondered why he was doing that and thought he looked like he wanted to talk with them. Sure enough, after a while he walked over and made a comment about the couple's tattoos on their arms then showed them his, on his forearms. Many of these kinds of casual conversations occurred around Hawaii, apparent strangers chatting to pass the time and a great many people willing to converse in their turn too.

Then a black car stopped and someone got out of the back seat, rap music playing really loudly, a young man waiting at the bus stop, the crown of his peaked cap almost as high and round as his own head, a style I'd never seen before in real life, then they were all in the car again and off, oonst, oonst, oonst on their way to the traffic lights. A woman walked past with a tiny dog on a pink leash and looked nervous at passing the bus stop, then lifted her face to the city lights and looked happier. An extremely old man got on to a bus, correct change in his hand which is what you need, his newish, black baseball cap with Vietnam Veteran embroidered on the front in white.

The bus drivers who stopped kept giving us various advice, or Anne really since she asked the questions. Soon we did find the right bus to be on, and Anne eventually stopped at her junction to catch another bus home, while I was on my way alone in Honolulu just after 9pm. It felt far safer than catching a bus at that hour in night-time Auckland, New Zealand, anywhere and the bus driver gladly told me where to alight so I could walk down to the quay building, go through security and board the vessel again.

We were leaving for San Francisco at 10:30 pm. The two female security officers regarded me and one checked my person with the plastic wand they wave across your body. When this was done the other one smiled and said, 'Time to have a good rest now Ma'am.'

I must have looked tired but I certainly felt happy. 'Aloha,' I called then as surely as I walked back through the cavernous place, past the gigantic mural of passengers from some imagined 1930s voyage disembarking from a cruise ship with streamers down the side of their vessel. They called, 'Aloha' back to me.

We sailed for 'Cisco that evening, I slept without dreams and awoke this morning with a feeling of delight I'd not felt for days. Lovely to see a friend and to have enjoyed Hawaii so very much, thanks to all concerned.

Bora Bora and Papeete - Tahiti Islands

 

11 March 2012

Two days ago we were in Bora Bora, a tiny island and we were ferried to the port in small, covered orange and white vessels with a wait between each departure of about 20 minutes or so. We needed to go and get a ticket from a officer who'd set up a desk on the dance-floor of one of the nightclubs, here. Then we made our way down to the third deck and stepped onto a boat which required some doing, with my managing my walking stick, painful knees today and finding hand-holds but it was not too difficult.

When we stepped off about 20 minutes later, (after a pleasant journey across a flat, small harbour), to this small concrete quay built like three sides of a square, the first thing that struck me was seeing sand everywhere and a few palm trees, along with some local people in sarongs and sometimes headdresses, or in Western clothes but quite a different shade to most of the waiting staff on board ship, who I now realise are from somewhere near India if not India itself. I'm slowly getting used to the fact that most of the people who are travelling on board the ship are from places where they don't get much sun and are really pale, this is the majority, (or tanned in that way only pale people can manage) whereas the waiting staff and many of the crew who perform manual work are from India, China and so on. I find this marked difference between different cultures and the roles they fulfill a curious thing, coming as I do from somewhere as diverse as Grey Lynn. Although even there, at home sometimes when my daughter and I are walking along together, her so brown and me so pale, people do stare and wonder about us plays on their faces. No idea why of course except I never see those looks when I am with other people, the same shade as I am or thereabouts. I can imagine now that some people will be calling me a racist for mentioning these things, but racism is about saying one group of people is better than another, whereas I am just commenting on something I've noticed, that is a fact and simply human beings going about their business. All the staff and passengers for the most part on board by the way are great, interesting and quite as diverse as you may please once they're in a conversation with me, naturally. Looks may be deceiving.

On Bora Bora I looked about the quay for some time, avoided a couple of local dogs lying in the sun looking a bit worse for wear, kept my bright green umbrella up to provide some shade since the temperature was so high, politely smiled but walked on when faced with tour guides and so on touting for business, and then soon took a hard right after a cluster of small buildings and walked on determinedly towards the one straight road running between the quay area and local shops. Behind this rather ramshackle and endearing arrangement towered the Bora Bora interior, mountainous and covered in greenery such as only the tropics can produce.

Along one strip of asphalt with no road markings, various vehicles moved at great speed, zipping stage left and right then disappearing to who knew where. Some were also parked. I saw a few people on bicycles. I didn't realise at first that they drive on the opposite side of the road to what we do in New Zealand and I almost got run over a couple of times, although I doubt that anybody would have really squashed me, just a couple of cars brushed past me at close quarters, until I realised I'd better start looking out with far more dedication.

In a touristy shop with a great many postcards outside I found a great CD by the best band in Tahiti, Toa Reva TE NUI HEVA according to the beautiful girl who served me. A few other marvellous items also found their way into my possession, then I decided to ask about trees for travel.

The girl was most willing to be helpful but could not speak much English, so I used some of my schoolgirl French, explaining with mime as well how tourists could dig a hole and plant a tree to make, '...le monde c'est bon, oui?' Then with more trees the world is good, I was trying to say. Eventually, she could understand me, a great understanding grew between us, even profound but she looked sorry, saying, 'Non, non, but would you like to see some trees?' She was a really good salesperson.

We were smiling broadly by this time and I shook my head, no, I wanted to plant some trees. Off I went. Perhaps she will then chat about this idea with others and they will offer this service in future. I do hope so.

Bora Bora could benefit from some fine palms and other trees along their quay. There was one bright yellow and red boat with palm trees on it like for a four-poster bed kind of thing, and I imagine they were in pots. The owner possibly hoping that one day they'd have some fine fronds to protect passengers from the sun, when they went on a sightseeing journey around the beautiful waters of Bora Bora.

I intend to mention Trees for Travel at every opportunity and encourage more people to plant trees. It's possible to buy some in places they are needed too, if you click on the photo to the right of this blog you will see many sites about trees for travel.

Someone at lunch also mentioned recently, the Queen has planted a number of trees for her Diamond Jubilee and I said, 'Yes, even she is catching on.' Possibly rather irreverently, but I meant well and not many people in New Zealand who I know are terribly respectful of Her Majesty, but I do appreciate her planting new trees nevertheless, this is an important action and can only benefit us all. Trees must be planted correctly, which I reiterate, so they do not disturb water pipes or other essential things which are under the ground, and so they can grow in a way which will not damage the roofs of houses and so on.

In the Bora Bora post office, an old, square concrete building with a high ceiling, the air conditioning was delightful. I felt pleased to finally post a number of postcards and letters to people back home, to a friend in France and another in Australia, then delighted to see that girl behind the counter put some beautiful Bora Bora stamps on the postcards with great care, herself and stamped them by hand with the date. I filmed this action and she looked a little perturbed saying, 'It is okay, it is okay.'

I think she imagined I was worried about the security of the post, but I said, “I'm just so pleased to see someone take so much care with the post. We have lost many of our post offices.'

She smiled in this sympathetic way and regarded me with some wonder. I guess we tourists provide oddities and peculiarities galore.

My younger days I would have explored much more, but as it was I took a good walk around for a couple of hours and did enjoy the smalltown atmosphere. A sense of a real tropical island where despite the local traffic going so fast people seem to lead a reasonably laid-back life. I sat outside some shiops with a few people resting in teh shade and one man and another were watching their wives, moving from shop to shop. The women cast a sharp eye back at their menfolk. The biggest man drawled in best Oz-ese, 'Shopping. There they go.' He waited a few beats. 'They're relentless.' The other hmmmed in agreement.

I piped up, 'O yes, I've already been along there and back.'

'Have you?' This man said, half-interested and half-disappointed, but with dry humour in his tone then up he got and with the other man, walked on, saying, 'I suppose we'd better get going then.'

A helpful chap, he'd already lifted a chair without any trouble to save a woman who still sat upon it, opposite, saved her from sliding over into the hedge behind, (one chair leg had slid off the concrete into a shallow groove), and he'd also retrieved my stick when it fell to the ground.

It was a fine day, a little breeze and a real taste of the tropics, old buildings, a slower way of life unless you sat in an air-conditioned car, many tourist shops and trips on offer, a huge thatched shaded area to sit in and enjoy the views, boats everywhere and people talking with each other. Some people looked a little harder than I was used to, the balmy climes of Tamaki Makaurau Auckland do not bake us into expressions though, do they.

We sailed then for Papeetee and arrived there the next day. Again a beautiful clear sunny day and this time a much larger port town, immense but with similar towering hills behind the buildings, the land covered in dense trees, and the shapes of the mountains looking volcanic.

I had a difficult morning since my appearance seems to disturb a few people more than perhaps it would normally, where I live. Since the weather got warmer I wear sleeveless clothes. This may not seem strange to you at all, those reading this, but some people on board find it alarming. The sneers, frowns, bewildered glances and outright strange moans and utterances directed towards me I do my best to rise above, however this rudeness is uncalled for, surely? I simply have one large tattoo on my left arm and dress a little more flamboyantly or individually perhaps, than many people on board. Some tolerance and understanding could be called for, I'd say but it's not possible to say this to every third or fourth person I encounter on a ship with thousands on board, is it. Not that they'd listen, of course, in fact if I did say anything to them directly concerning their appalling manners I believe they could find this cause for aggravation or some further unpleasantness. I plan to think of something to say even if only in mind, it will simply take time, all suggestions are welcome.

Then the chef in the almost empty bistro on board could not make me an omelette yesterday when he had nothing else to do, this also perhaps indicated he didn't think I deserved any breakfast, or my appearance gave him some kind of mental block so he kept just standing there doing nothing much, for some time. Eventually I did get an apology, by which time I was so hungry I simply got some food from the bain marie, various toasty things with ham and cheese, then some melon from the cooler etc., but there seems to be some kind of communication breakdown caused by my appearance, in some quarters. I never expected this kind of odd and even nasty reaction from world travellers. I suppose I've been spoilt by living amongst such broad-minded people where I come from, I do so miss them all.

Anyway, it is only a minor annoyance I suppose and causes me to sing to myself which is a pleasant activity.

Now, to explain the procedure of disembarking. We could simply walk off the ship to visit Papeetee, didn't need to get on a boat then be ferried to shore. I squinted my eyes to go down the gangplank, so I couldn't see how high up we were, and did not then get vertigo. The woman in front of me very kindly walked super-close to me, so I'd feel safer, as well. Many people here are very kind and helpful, most friendly. I've met some wonderful fellow travellers on board the ship. They are certainly not all rude to me.

Most buildings and awnings on Papeetee have a black dust upon them which I believe is volcanic dust, blown around by the wind. Also a great many locals everywhere and it was a change to be in a crowd of predominantly brown faces, the golden brown and deep golden brown of Pacific people. In Grey Lynn where I come from the suburb, street, shops and parks are populated by many nationalities, but not that many Pacific brown faces except perhaps during the Pacifika Festival. Many Papeetee street names and shop names are in French. This area was colonised by France. People speak French or their local language, (I sat to rest on a public bench, which was set with another companionably facing it and five local women were chatting there in a language a little like Maori), but not many speak English, few who I met or heard speaking around me.

I kept walking through the town looking for things of interest. There was a massive stone carving with two heads just before I left the port area, this statue sits under a huge tree. I stood there in shade for some time and noticed bees visiting flowers on the tree which pleased me enormously, bees are creatures we need for survival. I like to encourage bee-keeping. Then wanting to cross the road with my umbrella up to carry my own shade, I stopped a moment and noticed the woman who'd been handing out free maps to tourists, she just walked across the road without much hesitation and the traffic simply stopped for her. I decided to follow suit and to plunge into the town the way that local just had. Sure enough when I needed to cross, the vehicles all stopped for me without too much trouble at all. But little scooters, like Vespas, which zoom along sometimes, they look like they aren't going to stop and I skittered out of their way as soon as I saw them bearing down on me. Perhaps they are more likely to just weave in an out of the pedestrians as they cross the road? I'm not sure.

A large building over the road from the quay area looked like it was trimmed with deep cream lace, balconies all along, on and on up and up for storey after storey. This trim gave the place a romantic appeal, even if black dust coated everything. Many shops stood open with awnings to advertise, and some goods for sale on the footpath on tables and stands, wherever I looked. When I took a photo a young man stopped so he'd be in the shot and looked straight at the camera. Then when I took another one he turned his head so the photo would be slightly different I suppose. Narrow roads away from the main street port-side, and down a side street a building with a towering roof of open latticework, mainly dark brown where a daily market is housed. An immense wooden carving stands outside in a small, raised garden, people sit on the edge of the garden in the sun and one man regarded me with a bleary eye as I took photos but he didn't move. I usually let people see I have a camera so they can move if they do not want to be in the shot.

I walked along through the market which was cool enough with slight breezes running through, had wide avenues for pedestrians, no traffic and many tables set up with goods, food and so on for sale; various handcrafts, flowers, fruit and vegetables, great slabs of delicious-looking fish on ice, its pink flesh delectable and some whole light-blue fish too, stacked on top of each other. Then I stepped out to the back of the place after a good ten minutes, into some very small backstreets where I did feel like I could perhaps get lost. An English couple, one with a walker and the other on a mobility scooter were looking like they were already lost. They conferred together quite audibly about whether they could make it down the narrow footpaths.

I crossed the road to enter a shop with air conditioning. Cool air revived me enormously. There I also discovered racks of clothing which interested me, a Mother Hubbard-style long dress trimmed with white lace, just the thing for a souviner, to look like a pale version of a Tahitian grandmother and for a reasonable price. This shop also sold some fantastic, tiered, bright cotton petticoat-style skirts to the ground with embroidery. The shop girl smiled when I asked how much the dress was, 'in dollars?' She'd dipped her head initially, as if to compose her face then grinned, 'Eight.'

My eyes popped. 'Eight dollars?'

'Ahhh, eighty, she said, still smiling.'

I regretfully put the dress back, 'O well, too much,' I said softly.

Then I saw the tiered skirts and noted the price in francs above them, 'How much are these?'

This time the girl asked the woman behind the counter and she said, '$25-' So then I could see, the two prices in francs above each rack, and smiled. 'So those dresses are really about $40- or $50- then?'

The girl smiled at me and tossed her hair back. I realised she possibly knew no English at all really to speak of, and spoke softly, 'You were guessing.'

We both laughed together.

The woman behind the counter agreed the dress I wanted was far less than $80- and so I did get this souvenir, perhaps I will wear it on one of our black tie nights on board. A descendant of French people who settled in NZ in 1840, I'll be wearing a version of a garment the French introduced to Tahiti as more modest, centuries ago. It's ironic then how many 'girlie' shots of young local women there are on postcards and so on here. It rather shocked me.

Then, back down the street where I'd come from, on through the market again I saw from a different angle one of the craft stalls had some fine bags made of fabric and some kind of woven flax. I talked in English for some time about the bags and the woman behind the counter paid me as much heed as she could, but I thought she maybe did not really get what I was saying. Still, she was friendly enough. Soon, she hugged her friend good-bye who she'd been talking with, and attended to me. Once I made my mind up to purchase something, the old woman gestured to me to sit down, and I did take a welcome rest on a small white plastic stool while she put my purchase in my shopping bag.

Then I decided to ask the woman about trees for travel. After some time and many smiles she said, 'Sorry, I am not to know speak.' Then she very kindly asked people walking by if they had, 'Anglais' but nobody did. I explained, 'Je parle Francais un petit peu,' (I only speak French a little). Smiles all round ensued with a few titters. I blathered on in English saying I would ask someone else and thank you very much, then at last, 'Merci beaucoup Madame.' We were all pleased with this result, people were thanked, a sale had been made and I was moving on in good heart.

I decided that the spectacular flower display for sale at the front of the market, run by a man in a black T-shirt could be a likely place to find out about trees for travel and I made enquiries. I opened with asking, 'Parlez vous Anglais.'

'Non.' He smiled.

So I began again to mime of pointing to trees he had for sale, then digging and planting one. 'Le monde c'est bon, n'est pas?' [Then] the world is good, isn't it?

He looked interested at least and then asked a young woman in red and black polka dots sitting nearby if they spoke English. She replied, got up and walked towards me, 'Yes, I speak a little English.'

So between the three of us we figured out what I meant. She decided a place called Onesmore did have Trees for Travel, 'Oui, oui,' she kept saying to the man and flashing her eyes most expressively, while he spoke rapid French in a tone which suggested disbelief. 'Onesmore, oui oui.'

I took a photo then to help me remember what they'd said, but the woman dashed away and I never did find out how to spell wherever it is on Papeetee which offers Trees for Tourists to Plant for Travel, to cover our carbon costs, but maybe she went to alert them at Onesmore's that they needed to do more advertising? I do hope so.

Before I left I stood on the paved area by the ship and looked back at Papeete, thanked the place silently for giving me my lovely, clever, kind daughter who has some tipuna from there.  It was a pleasant few moments to stand there and regard the fascinating place, giving thanks. 

Now we are on our way again and I have a terrible rash from the insect repellent and sunscreen spray I applied for the two days we were in Bora Bora and Papeetee, to avoid catching Dingy Fever from the daytime-biting mosquito. I now itch all over from dermatitis. A shower fixed this last evening, perhaps it will again. The nurse on board tells me it is £100- to see the doctor at night and £50- during the day, which confounded me since I thought travel insurance meant the insurance company paid for it. There is certainly not that much in my on board account, I hardly ever buy anything here and did not intend to, either. So I'm off to try the long shower method and to pray these raised angry red blisters do not reach my eyes and mouth. The anti-histamine tablet I took also seems to have reduced the itch a little.

In three days we are in Hawaii, I do not want to look like someone with a disease when we get there.

Au Revoir Tamaki Makaurau Auckland x

Rolling with the Swell in the Open Sea

 

4 March 2012  (Day Two on the Oriana bound for Bora Bora)

'Tom Cruise,' said an elderly man on my left, nearly opposite this morning at breakfast. A table for six by the window. I smiled faintly at him, curious and amused and said, 'Your name is Tom Cruise?'

'No, our waiter. They said his name is Tom Cruise.'

We all shared puzzlement, some of us pretending as if this enormous, elegant restaurant on a cruise ship had moved to LA and we were in the presence of a star turned to a different kind of service. But I knew this was not possible and did not want anyone to think me crazy, (they have yet to learn the truth, of course). So I played it low key. 

 

But sure enough, the waiter who zoomed into place, grinning, looked a lot like Tom Cruise and I said so in a squeak. A much darker version, but the the same height, the same extraordinary smile and a certain look, like when Tom has those kind of army hair cuts a la the 1950s. Most waiting staff appear to be from somewhere they speak French I think, ebony or mid-brown close to that and this contrasts enormously with most passengers who are pale as pale can be, just by the way. 

Staff also wear uniforms of various kinds. Waiting staff are generally in white, with gold name badges. Passengers are most often in knit sportswear beige, mid-blue, darkish green, nothing too obvious very often or floral frocks, (no, none of the men in frocks, so far). One woman in a bright pink dress with a transparent plastic raincoat over the top was seen on the first day but so far, not again. She spoke possibly Italian and my daughter was insisting kindly I should make friends with her, since she looked the most interesting. (That was when people saw me off, thanks so much all of you). But everyone I've spoken with has been a great conversationalist. Perhaps only sociable people go on cruises?

Another world on this boat, this cruise liner, this ship. All the passengers seem to be over 50 perhaps 50 to 80 years old, which is extraordinary because I did ask if it was true that this boat was adults-only when I booked my ticket and was told that wasn't so. I suppose we are easier to control, cater for and understand when all around the same age, but it feels like I've been cut off from a great many other people. I do not generally socialise with those much of a muchness to any degree, except possibly that most are quite open-minded and arty, but that covers and enormous range of humanity. A strange sensation which I did not expect, to be rather compartmentalised in this fashion by birthdate. I find myself wanting to speak with the waiting staff and so on who are all around 24 - 40 or so, for a change. This works to an extent, but of course they are working and cannot spare much time.

The rolling of the boat has a soporific effect on me. I find it relaxing and I'm doing a lot of napping and lazing around. I think I was much more exhausted than I realised after all the work I've done for the last long while.

The Internet is difficult to access. It doesn't work very well in port or did not in Auckland but now has a stronger single signal. I just have to find out how to enter the code they want and what it costs per half-hour, before I post any of this. (I've written it first using my Dictate software, spoken word, to save my OOS reappearing and also then in word processing where I edited it three times, to save on internet charges. Then I had to do one more edit online). A cruise is a delightful experience, truly it is, but there are many things on board to buy like spa treatments, luxury items, alcohol, extra food 24 hours a day (apart from the various meals provided as part of the fare), and so on which seem to me to be hidden costs. It's not always mentioned something will cost you more money, in a clear manner, when it is offered. I go by the rule that if I'm not told something is complimentary then it isn't. No wine or alcohol at all so far for instance, and they have not delivered my duty-free vodka to my room. I'm hoping this absence of plonk will help me lose weight, more kilos must go, there's no room for them in my life any longer. Stealth dieting, I'm secretly removing things from my everyday diet and trying to fool myself they do not matter.

I've written a great deal in my journal and drawn pictures, taken some photos too which will eventually be made into a book called, (working title) The Messy Business of Travelling, (which could be in French so it looks more intriguing), to be handmade in a limited edition upon my return. It could be ready for our next event at Happy Tea House in November 2012. I'm collecting the extraordinary amount of junk mail we get on board, to use in the book as well, drawing and collaging over the top of the pages. It is most helpful that we get a daily newsletter, (not sure why it's in colour, but o well), however I don't know why I got a two-page, double-side printed info., sheet about the next port of call after I disembark, except there does seem to be a tendency to want us to stay on cruising, book your next cruise now and get another cruise and summer could be 12 months a year and....

It may seem to someone reading this that I'm disgruntled or annoyed, but I'm really enjoying this occasion, the first leg of my Poetic Journey to America and promoting Trees for Travel which still seems like a dream. I miss my family and friends however and the great Pacific Ocean which was blue this morning and stretched on in all directions is now grey, on forever relentlessly again in all directions without a sign of other life so far. I somehow thought I would see fish leaping, at least one whale by now, perhaps a dolphin or a seal. It looks like lightning is playing out there too, a kind of 'other life' I suppose and I see one bird wheeling, (someone later said it was an albatross, which is a very good sign if anyone's into age-old sailing superstitions). Two port-holes in my room, close to the water and in this chop some of the briny splashes up on to the heavy glass now and then.

My cabin is comfortable, the whole ship beautifully refurbished in retro-style with modern materials, along with wood and stainless steel, natural fabrics or beautifully created blends and so on, it smells nice, no overpowering chemical odours or plasticky tinges, the staff are beautifully mannered, in-service exquisitely well, and in my room when I arrived there were three balloons, blue, purple and white along with a birthday card from the captain. 

This is like a floating palace in many ways, just as I was told it would be.

And I love to imagine how much land we could cover with trees, or how many high-rise city forests we could create, (the latest thing) if the approximately 1700 people on board all planted only three trees each, when they disembark at Bora Bora, or phoned an agent and had some planted in South Australia, or elsewhere trees are really needed. I had a great discussion with one of the assistant waiters about how trees need to be suitable for wherever they are planted. He spoke of the Neem tree which comes from where he lives, good for so many things he said, '...toothbrushes, some oils from it are good for your skin...' he went on and on for some time, with great enthusiasm. 

Then yes, I had to admit I'd heard of Neem. This ingredient is mentioned on the can of sunscreen and insect repellent that I have to protect me in the tropics where we're going from the daytime-biting mosquito which carries Dingy Fever, (pronounced like the small rowboat, a ding-y I guess but cannot google it since I have to pay for that and internet is too slow).

Now, lunch-time has rolled around so I'm off to walk to the fine restaurant and see what's on offer. The library this morning was a great place to draw, (I did a quick sketch of their fine walnut-panelled bookshelves). Lovely desks and chairs in a room the colour of some kind of wooded glade in an English early autumn. Meanwhile the boat rolls and rocks, a few ticks and rumbles occasionally, or a bell in the distance calling some staff member to service and the mighty Pacific Ocean tosses and swells outside.

'I want to see a whale,' I said at lunch half-way through a fascinating conversation with two Australians, when we stalled a bit on something a bit too much for us all to take in easily. We agreed it would be stupendous to spy a leviathan, but it may not be whale season hereabouts. Then they got on to crocodiles and well, six of us grew intrigued. Apparently a mate of the Oz man's had a few beers and was sleeping by the river, when he smelt something unbelievably awful, he sat up and just as he did the croc sneaking up on him grabbed his pillow. The awful smell had been the animal's fetid breath. He never slept by the river again. This told by a fine craggy gentleman with the glint in his eye of someone who'd had to stay keenly aware most of his life, to be now enjoying a gourmet meal on board the Oriana with us, and sharing his yarns. Once someone gets talking at the table, it's such a feast of words quite often so far, everyone seated together as much as is practical for ease of service but also, the conviviality, o yes. 

I've been taking recommendations to go see things too, and later today shall go to a talk about Sir Francis Drake and Captain Cook, which the man's wife recommended. I'll no doubt see one or the other of them then. It's quite easy to make acquaintances here, a pleasant circumstance and the ship rolls and creaks and glides on and on, four days to Bora Bora they say.

The internet is so expensive and slow on-board as I've been saying, so I cannot readily post movies online yet, but shall get some going in preparation for later. These blogs will have to suffice as far as info., goes. Now, from somewhere on the Pacific Ocean this is Raewyn, love to everyone, I miss you, over and out.

Dream of a Boat Sailing towards Friends

Tomorrow, I walk into a dream I had....

The house-sitters tell me they felt the same way, (I described to them my sensation of this being unreal, last night), they could not believe it when, unexpectedly, some Arctic Circle associates invited them to a celebration. Both South Island friends, Marjorie and Bob like cold places, (takes all sorts). They're happy they're staying in my house just as the NZ weather's turned colder, but anyway, this journey of mine is nowhere near as cold or unusual as their fabulous time in the Land of the Midnight Sun, nevertheless I did not think I could ever afford such a trip. I sail tomorrow on the Oriana across the Pacific Ocean, to three islands, then zig-zag across the top of America to visit various friends. Luckily, I had a number of people assisting me, one of my publishers and some supporters, along with my family. Many, many thanks to those people.

'Trees.' That was the answer a friend of mine's daughter gave her when Lucy-Mae Sparkle asked her child what was the most important thing on earth. People are important of course but without trees, we could all disappear and fast. Yes, all of us. Half the world's trees which grew when we became homo sapiens, that enormous amount of ground-cover has now gone. All the carbon trees were soaking up was released if they were burnt, and if they became timber or paper they could no longer breathe in carbon (dioxide) and let out oxygen, obviously. We are also encouraging more and more carbon and other greenhouse gases to fill the small space where Earth's atmosphere holds the air we breathe, and deflects the sun's rays to some extent. We need more trees to soak up the carbon. The ocean can't take any more.

Every time we travel, an aeroplane emits one tree's worth of carbon every 1800 miles, I gather. So every flight, we could plant some trees to cover that, couldn't we? Even if we planted one or two trees each flight, a few shrubs, a decent-sized windowbox of perennials, we could do some good towards protecting ourselves and the generations to come. Or if you can, travel by boat. Take a cruise to somewhere closer, for the same price as a trip to a far distant destination on a plane. Cruises are so relaxed and laid back, a travelling palace with you in it. Then there is the stay-home option, turn off all telecommunication devices and live like you're on a desert island for a week or two. Plant some palm trees and banana trees, too. Park the car elsewhere, so everyone thinks you're not there.

Those are the kinds of things I thought about with this travelling lark. Really, I wanted to visit My Yoo Es Aye friends, such generous, clever, astounding people they are too (if you could read the great things they write you'd almost certainly agree with me, everyone else has so far), but was that spree of a visit important enough to spend all this money and emit all that carbon? A ship does use far less carbon per passenger than a plane, but still.... For decades now, I have not travelled in a car for pleasure often at all and never flown for a holiday, only when I had to for work. I could not bear the thought of what my actions were doing to the world when I zoomed along in a plane just for fun. We collect rainwater here for the garden and take many measures to be as eco-kind as possible. Nothing is perfect but no harm in doing our best, is how we look at it.

So this journey is to see my admirable friends in Honolulu, San Francisco, Seattle, Iowa, Chicago and New York, to promote the idea of planting trees for travel, along with a bit of PR for my new work soon to be on Kindle, (yes, paper-less books). I will make some small films of this process and post them here and on youtube. This trip needs to satisfy more than my desire for pleasure, let's put it that way.

Many people offer trees for travel, make sure you check out their company's trustworthiness if you buy trees from someone online. The trees do need to actually be planted and looked after, for the money you've paid. If you click on the photo of trees, (top of this page on the right), then you'll see a google search with many websites offering this service. Or ask locally and arrange tree-planting so it benefits the people you know. It's possible to also grow your own trees from seeds or cuttings then give them away or sell them. We've already given away six kowhai trees and large daisy shrubs, grown from plants here at Blue Haven. A pleasant activity, tending plants, excellent stress-release and exercise. Another alternative is to get sponsors and ask them to help pay for trees for your travelling. Online there are sites where we may ask for people to donate to a project, http://snipurl.com/22fjuri That link is a google search for 'start-up online donations'. Sponsorship can assist an organisation's public image, while giving to others in reasonable amounts makes us happy as individuals, too. Happiness is essential, really, isn't it? The trees could be planted in your garden, in your relatives' gardens or neighbours' places, public spaces like parks, school grounds, road-sides and so on, the city council usually knows where trees are needed at any time. If you pay a company for trees for travel they plant them where they are needed, like South Australia really needs trees right now.

Even one tree planted is better than none as long as it is carefully placed away from underground pipes etc., and why not plant trees even if you do not go on long journeys?  Our garden is spectacular with trees these days, we also get lots of native birds from the neighbouring park since we planted mostly native flora. The smarty-pants who told me privet was not privet, however will not be believed about much again. Privet is a noxious thing in NZ and causes many allergies. Check what is planted is the correct tree for your area, usually I would think indigenous plants are best. Fruit trees also provide food and there are various ones which require little tending like feijoa, lemon or a fig tree can be cut back quite a bit now and then with little damage, so can go almost anywhere.  Trees must not touch your roof, by the way, this allows rats access and also damages your house.  Just ask at the garden centre or google or read up about them, trees, the wonder plant.

Another way of reducing our carbon footprint is to go vegetarian, which is I believe a better way to save carbon than to stop using your car. Or try one, two or three days a week for vegetarian-only food. Use public transport or walk wherever possible and as small a car as you can, if you do drive. Try to save journeys to the shops in your car for those times when you need to get more than one thing, or go to more than one place in the shopping centre. Car pooling can work well, everybody saves on gas, people who work together may chat about work-related things in the car or just build better friendships, there's also the added bonus of safety if the car breaks down or you need to park somewhere that feels a bit dodgy, or you're a timid person, like you'd rather walk to the workplace with someone you know, than alone.

I am, (believe it or not) rather timid, or at least extremely sensitive, so I like staying home, in my office writing whenever I can and also, just pottering round the garden, then socialising with various good Grey Lynners and city folk, many a strong or fascinating character among them, whom I've met here locally. I love my life here in Grey Lynn. For almost 20 years we've lived here and know so many locals the mind boggles. Us old-school Grey Lynners get into various community-activities and have strong networks, here. We hope people moving into this area also take on things with the same good heart. I'm a bit shy or sensitive but extrovert with it, ha. Can blather on about my worries without much trouble, and often get rid of them with discussion. This assists me with preparation for performances and projects like this. My training since I was four years old as a performer, public speaker and our family's social ability helped me be less withdrawn than many. The degree I gained at UNITEC, a Bachelor of International Communication only a few years ago also assisted me enormously in countless ways. The unbelievable amount of excellent performers I've worked with passed on knowledge and stood as great examples too, thanks to all of you.

So, I'm making these little films for online about poetry, trees, saving the world and love, and writing this blog while I sail across one of the largest oceans then train and plane across one of the largest nations. I just thought, 'Why not try a plan, see how far it gets me?' Indeed, tomorrow I walk into a dream I had....

Please, use this information to inspire your own greenly good deeds whilst having fun. Feedback most welcome. Do wish me well, as I do you.