See Wellington Again for the First Time

As a veteran of the North Island, I made my way through town like I owned the place, driving right off the ferry along the waterway back to the same hostel where I was during my trip on the way South, sitting up on the foothills of the ridge overlooking the city. I parked on the street and made my way up the steep driveway and was happy to see that the hostel had availability for the night, in addition to the worker recognizing me from earlier, despite the unfettered growth of my beard during the time. After getting my key, I wasn't looking forward to the parking escapade that surely awaited me, as the parking lot up the steep one lane driveway behind the hostel was quite tight even in my rental car the first time I was there. Willy and I crept up the hill to find the tiny gravel lot just as packed in and double parked as before. There was a tiny spot in the last corner, partially blocked by a Honda Prelude that took a little too much space in its own parking spot. I tried and tried to squeeze in, brushing the trees and bushes forming the border of the spot, but I found that the van was basically touching the bumper of the Prelude with more to go, so I had to delicately back out of the spot exactly as I came in, barely avoiding the Prelude and the cars parked closely behind me. I was still facing forward in the dead end lot, so I hoped to be able to back out to one half spot to help me turn around and head back down to the street, but another van pulled in and didn't seem to understand my intentions, so the not-so-compassionate Brits just double parked alongside another car, making my job even tougher, while a compact car jumped into the tiny spot I was hoping to use as a back-in point, so my job immediately got much more difficult. On a slant with about the width of two of my vans, I had to maneuver my way through a ten or fifteen point turn (honestly), as I did my best Austin Powers impression. I turned the wheel hard one direction, released the clutch, hit the gas as to not roll back into the cars behind me, popped forward right up to the car in front, turned the non-power steering wheel hard the other way before finding reverse and repeating the process over and over, barely making any progress but not left with any other choice considering the newcomers to the parking lot. A series of tight turns and turning the stiff wheel back and forth ensued, and I finally had the van facing back to the exit, with only one moment in which I truly used the bumper against the van behind me, but it was no more than a tap, so there was no damage. About to descend to the street, another small van came up the hill, so I had to do a few more deft moves to allow her in, though I warned her that there were no spots. As she finally got past, she decided to heed my advice and slowly and carefully backed down the narrow hill, swerving back and forth, inches from the fencing and concrete wall. I found a spot on the street that would be acceptable until 8 am the next morning, when the parking enforcement began again, but I was able to get up in time to move it back up the hill to a few vacated spots in the morning.

On the way from the ferry, I had also noticed a sign advertising a rugby match the next night, so I figured I'd stay in Wellington an extra day to experience such a telling part of the Kiwi culture. In the morning, I made the 45-50 minute walk from one side of the city to the other from my hostel to the stadium to buy tickets and secure my spot in the spectacle. On the way back to town, I stopped again at Te Papa Museum, the natural history museum with free admission featuring flora, fauna, art, culture, geography and other facts and displays about the country. Being six stories tall, I had more time to explore the exhibits through which I had to rush the first time around, experiencing the feeling of being in a house during a large earthquake, reading about the invasion of introduced pests and trees, the clear-cutting of the native forests and being disappointed to find that I am just a centimeter or so too tall for the virtual bungy machine that simulates the view and weightlessness of the adventure in a small cage that turns and spins upside down to the delight of the queue of children.

Basically, though, my day was spent anticipating the rugby match, since I'd been really hoping that I'd be able to find a match during my stay here. The league, the Super 14, consists of 14 teams from Australia, New Zealand and South Africa, so I'd be seeing the Wellington Hurricanes against the Cheetahs of South Africa, Bloemfontein, I think. I got a quick dinner at the hostel and hit the long road back to the stadium, arriving about 20 minutes before the 7:30 kickoff. The bright stadium lights and thick crowds guided me as I got closer and closer before entering to the sights and sounds of djs pumping out loud dance music, a few dancers on stilts in the local black and yellow color scheme, and a mass of people heading in every possible direction. I found my seats easily, though I was quite tempted by the stadium food, which is surprisingly not badly priced as you see in US sporting events. Pies, "American" hot dogs, fries and everything else were about the same price as they'd be outside the stadium, but I was able to resist thanks to a massive plate of spaghetti earlier. The beers are also available in four packs, saving the drunken fan from multiple trips to the concession stand during the same play, so I found that humorous. Back in my seat, the shining lights illuminated the perfectly manicured green field below me, situated in the corner of the stadium, not too far up from the pitch. I watched the two teams warm up and head to the locker rooms before returning to a bit of antiquated stadium rock and cheers from the crowd, though the arena ended up being only about 2/3 full, since these teams are the collective definition of mediocrity in the league right now. I must admit that I didn't know every single rule or call of the game, but I knew more than enough to watch attentively and really enjoy the match.

The scoring started off evenly, but soon the Hurricanes began to pull away, aided by an interception and try by the owner of one of the most amazing mullets since the times of Braveheart, but I don't think many people would have the gall to question his haircut, as this player was probably about 6'5" and 230 pounds. Of course, players' sizes varied according to their positions, but the players were all huge and tough, making some gigantic hits and tackles with no padding, which predictably resulted in a few injured players laying dazed on the ground for a few seconds before "toughening up" and returning to play. The last play of the match was a very long individual run - a 70-something meter try, which is quite rare from what I've seen, so that was a nice ending, as the home team took the match 37-15, and watched a few of the players sign autographs and greet the fans before I boarded the shuttle home with a few obnoxious, drunk fans and some of the others trying to avoid them. The whole experience was a good one, allowing a glimpse into some true Kiwi experiences (not to be confused with the annoying green tourist bus, the Kiwi Experience).

The next morning, I checked out of the hostel after two days in the capital city, and I headed North, immediately being amused by a few of the deluxe kennels along the main road, with endearing cartoon cats advertising their own "cattery", which is the feline only version of a kennel. Doggeries were surprisingly nowhere to be found, though.

(The opening of the match between the Hurricanes and the Cheetahs)(The Hurricanes, in yellow, attempt to stop the Cheetahs with just meters to spare)