Something different for breakfast besides the usual this morning. The shot glass holds a barley grass detox. I have no idea what that means but now I have a better understanding of what it means to be a cow, including being fattened up.
The indigenous people of new Zealand were the Maori, and on the whole they were and are treated much differently than were and are the aboriginal peoples of Australia. This symbolic Maori arch is in Aotea Square in Auckland’s CBD.
What you see under the arch is where people gathered upon hearing about the terrorist attacks in Paris. I hadn’t mentioned it, but we saw the Sydney Opera House illuminated in red, white and blue, though it was too faint to take a photo. Also the French flag was flying atop the Sydney Harbor Bridge.
Then it was off by city bus to met a Maori speaker. The CBD seems to almost have more buses than cars on the streets. Of course when it came for our group to catch a bus it took almost ten minutes for one to come along. Good thing we didn’t buy lottery tickets with that kind of luck.
This photo serves two purposes. First the bus stop to return to our hotel was next to it. Second it tells what a crazy real estate market there is in Auckland. The housing shortage is so severe that every home goes to market without an asking price and the way there are sold is through an auction. The Auckland metro area only has a population of 1.6 million people while the average home price is $750,000. Most of what sells under that price really isn’t something many people want to live in. And rental rates are also in the stratosphere.
Linda in a novaloo. Think automatic portapotty. The wave was in case the electronically operated door never opened again or she got swept away in the automatic flush.
In the warm tropical plant house Linda was off looking at some mundane looking plant when one of the gardeners showed me the mimosa pudica. I immediately called Linda over and you can see what happened next. Obviously there were no Sensitive plants in those Appalachian hills of her youth. Just call me Sensitive Bob.
We had an interesting talk on the Maori culture by Prince Davis.
After the talk we had a few nibbles, one of which was the best kiwi fruit either of us have ever had. As was explained, most people outside of New Zealand are only familiar with the fuzzy skinned, green, tangy kiwi fruit. Here they have the golden kiwi. No fuzzy skin, just nice and smooth, no tang, only sweetness and no green, only gold. Now if we can just find them when we return to the States. Kiwi Bob.
Song is very much a part of the Maori culture. This was the song they sang to us when we were leaving.
Then it was back to the tropical garden house where Linda set a new record for the most flowers photographed in ten minutes.
And it having been far too long since I last posted a photo of Linda photographing a flower, I give you this. She called it a purple tiger lily. I call it Safari Linda doing what she loves. Lucky bob.
Maori carvings in the War Memorial Museum. We spent three hours there and enjoyed every minute.
Linda’s shoes left outside just as the sign says.
I thought it would be fun to take her shoes. Bad Idea. In Big Trouble Bob.
Maybe we are both in big trouble. This exhibit featured flesh eating forks from Fiji.
You know the saying, Birds of a feather flock together. Linda and a dodo bird. Oops, almost made a big mistake. Linda and a penguin. Fast Thinking Bob.
A Bruges Zot Dubbel, about as good as it gets.
As good as it gets.
And it gets even better. This is for my moules and frites loving friend, John. A half kilo of green lipped mussels in brandy lobster sauce. John, these are monsters and they taste like heaven. This should be on your must do list. The same goes for any other mussel lovers out there.
In this case bigger really does mean better. Just look at the size of that thing. Man is that ever good eating. Happy Bob.