Busy doing something and nothing.

This week, Wellington decided to live up to her ‘Windy’ name, by introducing some Southerlies, and boy, when she blows, she blows.

Over the weekend there were recorded wind speeds from the top of the Rimutakas of 172kph to 128kph down at the airport. She’s thrown downpours into the mix as well, just to put on a show!

But between these blustery rainy bouts she has on occasion let the sun come through and highlight her charms.

This has been a week where I’ve been busy doing something and nothing, and it’s been marvellous.

From strolling from coffee shop to coffee shop, via eclectic little shops and galleries, to checking out museums and eating out, this week hasn’t had an agenda or schedule.

I’ve picked up a harmonica and new strings for one of Marc’s guitars, spent a good few hours searching magazine stores for a publication which has an article on York Street Mechanics in Auckland. In my search I found a great little magazine and coffee (naturally!) shop called Magnetix on Johnston Street, where the staff were superbly helpful, and a copy of the magazine has been ordered in for me.

I took a short ride on the cable car up to, and to look around the Botanic Gardens, and the park alongside.

I spent a glorious afternoon sat near the observatory, overlooking the city. As the wind whipped around me and the afternoon sun warmed me, I just sat and watched the harbour for a good couple of hours. 

Staying to watch a container ship glide slowly into the bay, to be met by two small (from that distance) tugs, that gently guided the ship into it’s mooring. I’m sure from the dockside that it was all noise and bustle, but from up high it was a graceful dance, that drew me in as I ignored the time passing.

An afternoon that was nicely topped off by comparing tales with the girl piloting the cable car on the way back down. A Bristolian by birth, she was out here eighteen months into her two-year working visa, and her tales of travels helped add to my list of things to see.

I took a long afternoon looking around the Te Papa museum. From all the great exhibits inside, and displays of New Zealand through the years, it’s geography and peoples; I was the most overawed by a simple display.

A solitary motorcycle, pawing at the air on a plinth next to the large museum café.

A Britten V1000. Resplendent in its carbon, blue and pink. I soaked in the intricate and purposeful engineering of this rare racing machine. The complexity of the exhaust routing, and the craftsmanship in its details drew my gaze and my wonderment. To me this machine is as much art as it is a motorcycle, and all the more impressive when you know that basically, it was imagined, created and built by one brilliant man in his shed.

The evenings were split between trying out eateries around Wellington, cooking and drinking at Marc’s, and meeting up with friends of friends for a drink or two.

All in all, things this week have just happened as they’ve happened, and I couldn't be happier.

Admittedly there aren’t many pictures in this update, as for much of the time I was either engrossed in the museum itself, thought I’d just be repeating shots, or I simply forgot.

I’ve always got time to get some another day.

The road is calling again, and early next week we shall be winding our way northwards. The aim is to throw a minimal amount of necessities, which I will stretch the meaning of by including my Uke, into the Kiri, and for us to keep on driving until we run out of road and land, to a place where I can stand and watch the Tasman Sea and the South Pacific Ocean collide.