So after 185 days and seven wildly different countries, I awoke on the 12th April aboard Aerolineas Argentinas flight 1183 after an eleven hour slog across the Pacific Ocean to find myself touching down in the capital of Argentina, Buenos Aires, where I begin the final leg of this world wide trip. In a bizarre case of back to the future, I left Auckland at 19.00 on the 12th April and arrived in the capital of Argentina at 15.00 on the 12th April, which has left my body clock well and truly baffled and has turned me into a bit of an insomniac as I constantly find myself wide awake in bed all night and then shuffling through the streets in a zombie-like state during the day as I struggle to stay awake and adjust. After getting off the plane I decided to get the local bus into town rather than the expensive tourist wagon that was in operation outside the terminal doors. I therefore hauled my bag onto a pretty efficient looking bus which powered towards the centre of town, gradually picking up more and more people until I was rammed against the back window, totally unsure of where we were and when I was supposed to be getting off. Straight from the offset it became glaringly obvious that my complete lack of Spanish was going to be a problem because unlike Asia you can't really get by here purely on English. Many people spoke English in India as it is taught at school plus colonial flashbacks etc. and South East Asia was so rammed with other backpackers that unfortunately I rarely strayed from the universal English that pretty much every other traveller speaks. This of course made things very easy for me as English is my native language but it also made me lazy as their was no direct and demanding urgency to learn another tongue. My personal introduction to Argentina turned this notion on its head and it seemed that things would have to change. Although I speak very little Spanish, I am eager to pick up whatever I can in the time I have as learning the language of any country one travels to undoubtedly enriches the experience to no end. Spanish is also the first language I have come cross on this trip that is relatively accessible (same alphabet etc.) as learning Hindi or Thai in a short time frame is pretty much impossible unless you live in the country for an extended period I reckon. Seeing the mountain rise before me, I therefore flicked to the back pages of my guide book and browsed through the "Survival Spanish" section, where I memorised a few key phrases and although the language I spoke to those people on the bus could hardly be labelled as Spanish, through a series of arm gestures and "Spanglish" I somehow managed to get myself from the airport and into the hostel. I have heard that Buenos Aires is one of the main places in South America where English is widely accepted and understood but my experience was quite the opposite and the first few days in the country turned out to be a lonely affair as everyone in the hostel was either Brazilian (whole different kettle of Portuguese fish) or Argentines who spoke zero English and would look at me vacantly whenever I attempted to ask for something in kindergarten Spanish. On the second day in the city I purchased a small notebook and since then I have started to write down key phrases and jotting down new words that I come across as writing makes things stick in my memory a lot better. Let's see where I'm at in two months time!
So then first impressions of Argentina? Well, my first week in B.A. was spent strolling all over the city and one of the things that struck me first, aside from the language issue, was that the city seems very European in its construction as the architecture, restaurants, cafes and street names all highlight the influence that the Spanish, Italian and French have had on this city over the hundreds of years. It's interesting to note that the city has acquired the nickname, the "Paris of South America", and after walking down the tree-lined Avenida de Mayo with its designer boutique shops and lavishly historical coffee establishments, I agree that it definitely felt similar to the French capital. The gargantuan 16 lane Avenida 9 de julio which is dominated by the 67m high Obelisco - a monument where fanatic football team fans come to celebrate following a win - also felt very French yet the endless amount of wood oven Pizzerias also gave the area an Italian flavour. On the first day, after the first of many disrupted sleeps, I walked from my hostel which was in the relaxing San Telmo area up Chacabuco street towards the Plaza de Mayo which is home to the Casa Rosada - a large pink building that houses the offices of the President and executive branches of the government. The famous square has played a central role in Argentina's turbulent history playing host to founding presidents, devastating military coups, the fanaticism of Evita (more on this unique lady later on) and desperate crowds after the relatively recent economic crisis which brought the country to a stand still. Following days were spent strolling along the cobbled Defensa street in the Montserrat neighbourhood - so called because residents poured boiling oil on invading British troops at the beginning of 19th century - past three-hundred year old churches and Jesuit mansions all the way to the shady confines of Lezama park, strutting through the trendy Recoleta with its impressive mini-city of a cemetery, strolling past the docks area with it's exclusive yacht clubs and checking out my first ever Andy Warhol at the Colecion de Arte Amalia Lacroze de Fortabat. The long days of walking were sustained by getting stuck into the very economical and delicious all you can buffets which dot every street corner and one evening I went to a local Parilla where I ordered up a big rump steak which arrived fat and juicy straight off the asado (grill). Beef is massive in Argentina and they sure know how to do a bloody great steak; so good in fact, that I'm not going to go into too much detail here about the mind blowing steak as I want to do a separate post about Argentine food later on.
On the penultimate day in the city I woke up in the eight bed dormitory of the Tango hostel I was staying and was greeted by a feisty Venezuelan by the name of Darnell and an Australian girl called Grace who had just got into town that morning. They were actually the first English speaking people I came across in the hostel having been there for five nights and it was nice to be able to chat fluently in my mother tongue with someone after terrorising the rest of the hostel with my deplorable Spanish looking for some social interaction. There are pros and cons to travelling by yourself and that first week highlighted the latter for me as I normally make friends in the hostels but seeing as I had trouble communicating with the predominantly South American crowd that stayed at the Tango hostel it would have been nice to have a mate to fall back on. Still, high and lows I guess, and someone always turns up and this time they came in the form of an Australian and a Venezuelan. They had come over for a holiday and Grace was about to head home but Darnell was moving back to South America permanently having spent the past five years in Australia working in photography. Seeing as it was my final night in the capital we all agreed to go out and seeing as Darnell had some friends who lived in the city we bought a bottle of Fernet (a devilish medicine-tasting spirit) and headed over to their flat for some pre drinks. Once at the flat we made up a bottle of Fernet con Coca and I had my first taste of the infamous drink that is consumed in huge quantities across the country. It was incredibly bitter although the Coca-Cola mixer helped and Santiago, one of Darnell’s friends, upon seeing me grimace after my first sip, said that drinking Fernet for the first time was like having sex for the first time; its painful at first but gets better the more you do it. The Venezualans were keen on getting the "Simon Pegg look-a-like" hammered as they kept passing the bottle back to me enthusiastically; not wanting to let the side down I gulped that evil-tasting concoction down for queen and country and once the bottle was finished we headed off to a sports bar where I was introduced to a whole gang of Darnells mates who were all either studying or working in the capital. I tried out a bit of the Spanish that I had recently learned which seemed to help English-Argentine relations - don’t mention the Malvinas! - and endeared me to the group although the relationship was once again on the rocks when I smashed them at table football. Standard. The Quilmes (Argentina beer) kept on flowing until I found myself at a huge club that blasted out Dubstep until the early morning hours. Around 5am I decided to head off as I had to catch a bus at 8.30am to Rosario and somehow managed to get back to the hostel after asking a very helpful crowd of transvestites the way to San Telmo - Donde Esta es San Telmo chaps? Getting back an hour later after getting horrendously lost on the buses, I got about two hours sleep before getting up and hobbling down to the Retiro bus terminal a little worse for wear.
Keep on, keeping on.
x
B.A.!
Auckland to Buenos Aires
Location of Buenos Aires within Argentina.
The Casa Rosada. The locals of Buenos Aires love to protest and do so frequently. There are so many in front of the the Presidents office that the government just leave the barriers up all the time now. Walking around the city there would always be a gang of students banging a drum and waving banners in defiance of some new government legislation.
As a result there is always a large police presence in the area.
The Cabildo at the opposite end of the plaza from the Casa Rosada is a classic example of colonial architecture.
Avenido 9 de Julio is a massive 16 lane boulevard.
The grand looking Obelisco on Avenida 9 de Julio where ecstatic football fans come to celebrate a victory. Buenos Aires is home to the the Boca Juniors, champions of Argentine football.
The Congreso Nacional. Home to the Argentine parliament.
Walking along Avenida Florida.
Tango, Tango, Tango.
Buenos Aires has an extensive subway network which makes getting around the city very easy and very cheap.
On the subway.
The Puento De La Mujer bridge. A footbridge in the Puerto Madero area of Buenos Aires. Finished in 2001, I read that its image synthesizes the figure of a couple dancing the Tango.
Me standing on a mushroom at the top of Mt. Victoria. That is Rangitoto Island in the background, a giant flat egg of an island which can also be seen in the final frames of Biggle Vision #4 - Biggle Vision #4
The entrance to the Auckland Domain.
Inside the winter gardens at the Auckland Domain. Amazingly colourful flowers kicking about.
The winter gardens. Spent an afternoon chilling here reading a book. Just got involved with Shantaram....turning into a bit of an epic and makes me miss India. Find out about it!
The water fountain at the beginning of Cornwall park which is dedicated to Sir John Logan Campbell, one of New Zealand´s first European settlers.
Cheeky rainbow kicking about in the jets of water.
The epic One Tree Hill.
The One Tree Hill Park which attracted big crowds on the sunny day I did the coast to coast walkway. See - Coast to Coast
A trip to New Zealand would not be complete without a few sheep chucked in.
The base of the One Tree Hill obelisk.
The craters and terraces of One Tree Hill.
Heading to Jellicoe park on the final leg of the 16km coast to coast walk.
The coast to coast walkway signs were littered everywhere.
Sunset in Auckland.
Mark worked for Escape vans. On one of the final days in the city, along with Helen from the hostel, we headed over to Devonport which rests just over the harbour.
Me and Marky. Auckland life.
We climbed/drove up North Head in Devonport which used to be home to Fort Cautley. We came across some gun emplacements which had been built in reaction to the perceived threat posed by an increasing Russian navy in the Pacific in the 1870´s.
The hill has an underground network of tunnels and cave that we went exploring.
On the 2nd April, after a relaxing week over in Birkenhead with the Woods, I jumped on the 974 bus for the last time and headed into the centre of town where I would be spending the rest of my time in Auckland holed up at the Cosy Kiwi hostel with Mark and Joe. As a result of their long stay at the Cosy Kiwi they were paying off part of their accommodation by cleaning the kitchen and toilets a couple of times a week meaning they were considered staff and were therefore sleeping in the staff dormitory. The day before I made the move over to the hostel, Joe had headed off with his milkman crew for some work trip down to the city of Gisborne which lies on the East coast of New Zealand's North island. As a result of this, the bed that he had been using in the staff dorm was now free and because I knew Mark I was allowed to move in with him and the rest of the staff at the hostel which would prove to be a mixed blessing. To explain, the Cosy Kiwi, like many hostels around the world, is a dwelling that is heavily populated by an army of alcoholic Irish, English and Scottish folks and every night would see the happy-go-lucky individuals there romp about until all hours of the morning drinking goon (more on this in a second) until they were so blind drunk that they would pass out on the nearest horizontal surface which was usually the floor. The peace and decent nights sleep that I had become accustomed to over the harbour was therefore about to firmly go out the window and the only real option was to get stuck in myself; a tactic I employed a couple of times near the end of my stay at Cozy which saw goon reduce me to me knees, figuratively and literally. Now goon for the uninitiated is packaged wine that comes in a box and it seems that its only redeeming feature is that it's a very economical way of getting completely "Gazeboe'd" and as a result it has become the staple drink for all who stayed at the Cozy Kiwi hostel and indeed many budget travellers in this part of the world. Goon is lethal and has achieved great infamy in New Zealand and Australia for its debiliating physical and mental side effects on all who stray to the bottom of the box. I also learnt that a useful feature of the goon packaging is that because the wine comes in a plastic bladder within the cardboard box, when all the wine is finished and you've "become a goon" (hence the name), the plastic bag can be inflated and used as a pillow for you to sleep it off on wherever you land; so effectively goon puts you to sleep and then tucks you in! The Cozy Kiwi hostel itself was housed on the 5th floor of a building that was situated just off Queen Street; slap bang in the middle of town and with a comfortable lounge area whose red couches could easily suck anyone in for a few hours at a time while a movie or South Park was on, a decent sized kitchen and outdoor terrace it was an easy place to stop and relax before I headed off to embark upon the inevitably hectic final leg of the trip over in South America. As many of the people that were staying in the hostel were working in Auckland for quite some time, a surreal family had formed from a motley bunch of international characters and it was interesting to stick about there observing the dynamics between them all as normally I spend a maximum of three or four days in any particular hostel. You had Wendy, the owner/pseudo mother figure, who attempted to keep her alcoholic children in check and would occasionally go off on a rant about something that had been done wrong in the hostel by her unruly traveller-employees. Her children who constituted nearly everyone else in the hostel were a lovely bunch of people who all brought something different to the table - normally another bag of goon - and they all made my time spent in the Cozy Kiwi a lot of fun, even if they would wake me up when blind drunk at 5am...every night. After a few days, Joe returned from his work trip and I moved into one of the regular dormitories where it was actually a lot quieter and the final nights in Auckland rolled out until I caught my plane to Argentina on the 12th April to enter the final leg of this mammoth trip...Buenos Aires to follow!
The start of the gruelling 16km coast to coast walkway.
To move the second part of this post into more productive territory, I did actually do more in Auckland than indulge in a few goon episodes and so on the 6th April after hearing about a 16km coast to coast walkway which starts down by the viaduct harbour and snakes its way over to Onehunga, via a few key Auckland sights, I set off up Queens street to embark on a mammoth eight hour amble. On one of my first days in Auckland I had stopped by the tourist office in the centre of town and picked up a map which plotted the route over to Onehunga and so with some sandwiches in my backpack for lunch and the map in my hand, I peeled myself away from the red couches of Cosy Kiwi and walked through my favourite daytime hang out spot - Albert Park - to the vast green expanse of the Auckland Domain. This large 75 hectare park has been developed around the cone of an extinct volcano and includes the cities grand-looking Museum (which I checked out with Joe a week prior; filled with interesting Maori exhibits), numerous tree lined walkways, a cricket field, relaxed winter gardens, a whole range of shaded picnic spots and a legion of ducks that dwell in the park´s pleasant natural springs.
The Auckland Museum
Walking through the Cherry Grove, I followed the Domain pathway through the native bush on the park´s Eastern side until I reached Park street at its South-Western corner. I noticed early on that the walkway had small "Coast to Coast" signs dotted along the route, sometimes obvious, sometimes not, as they were littered in very sporadic but key locations to form an interesting breadcrumb-like trail. The map is essential though and I would not recommend anyone setting off without it as following the signs alone would be futile.
Coast to Coast.
Heading further south the next landmark that I came across was Maungawhau, also known as Mt. Eden, which holds the title of Auckland´s tallest volcano and soars to a grand old height of 196 metres. This gentle giant gazes over the Auckland isthmus and a gentle hike up to it´s summit offered up some fantastic panoramic views of the whole area. The slopes of Maungawhau were once populated by Maori people who turned the volcano into a fort during pre-European times and traces could still be seen by the terraces and pits that the Maori people had excavated during their occupation of the hill for farming and defensive purposes. Strolling down the other side of Mt. Eden, I made a few turns down backalleyways and cut through the Auckland College of Education which brought me to Melville Park; a large expansive grass field that is now home to the Auckland women´s hocky and cricket clubs. The sun was roaring in the sky and following my descent from Mt. Eden it had increased it intensity so I sat for a drink and to cool down in the welcoming shade of a large oak tree while some local kids threw a frisbee around and dog walkers trapised on by.
The View from Mt. Eden.
Catching my breath I headed on down the suburban Kimberley road where I was greeted by a magnificently extravagant fountain - a homage to Sir John Logan Campbell: one of New Zealand´s first European settlers - that signifies the beginning of Cornwall Park. I then followed Purri Drive down a narrow strip of park which finally expanded out at Pohutukawa Drive to join the vast 220 hectare One Tree Estate that is dominated by the striking obelisk which stands defiantly upon One Tree Hill. Due to the glorious sunshine that covered the park in a blanket of golden rays, One Tree Hill was packed with picnic wielding families, walkers, students and dog walkers who were all relaxing at the feet of the largest and most complex volcanic cone fortress in the southern hemisphere. Maungakiekie or One Tree Hill has hundreds of terraces, food store pits, defensive ditches and banks that for centuries supported a population of 5000 people. A mere 13 metres shorter than it´s neighbour Mt. Eden, Maungakiekie has three craters and a lava field that extends all the way to the Manukau foreshore. A steep, exhausting and very sweaty climb followed as I was eager to see what the views were like from up by the Obelisk and the effort was definitely worth it as due to perfect weather and very good visibility, I could see for miles around from the windswept summit. I took a video so you could share the views. Biggle Vision#4 can be seen here: You can see Mt. Eden just in front of the Auckland skyline and the final island I sweep to is Rangitoto Island.
The final leg of the mammoth walk skirted the edge of Jellicoe park until I finally hit the beach at Onehunga after an epic five hour journey where I relaxed by the beach just as the sun was setting behind the line of trees that skirted the small waterfront. Was a great day but my legs were in quite some pain for many days afterwards, especially as I decided to walk all the back to Auckland arriving at the Cosy Kiwi under cover of darkness. Nine hours and 30km. Done.
When I was planning this trip there was a piece of advice that I came across time and time again which read as follows, "When preparing to travel, lay out all your clothes and all your money. Then take half the clothes and twice the money." Well I saved about £4500 pounds for spending money after flights, insurance etc. and set off with a backpack that weighed about 10kg and it seems as though I got the equation a little off as I´m now finding out that I went away with about two thirds of the money and about a quarter of the clothes required for this eight month trip - although having a super light rucksack has been very beneficial when plodding around a new city in search of a hostel or running for a departing bus or train. The money is rapidly running out - although a recent tax rebate from good old "linea directa" has proved to be a vital lifeline - and the clothes I took away with me are starting to disintegrate. The hard-wearing Merrell walking shoes I spent £100 on were stolen by some BASTARD when I was in Laos and the lamentable position I now find myself in is that I can´t actually afford to buy any new clothes or shoes because of the European prices down under and although I got a few t-shirts in Bangkok, I´m wondering why the hell I didn't stock up on some more affordable threads when I was in cheap-as-chips Asia. Total and complete lack of foresight would be the answer to that question; a predicament that is slowly reducing me to trampdom as the structural integrity of my shorts are starting to heavily rely on the sewing kit a friend of mine gave me before I left. The hiccup at the beginning of the trip when I niavely got rooked by those ruthless individuals in Delhi is finally starting to bite as the funds are approaching critical mass and my expensive although incredibly fun stint over in Australia has not been kind to my woeful bank balance. This, I´m sure, sounds like a great deal of complaining, and it is, but I wanted to vent my financial issues and thought I may as well do it here as managing funds is a big part of the long-term travelling lifestyle. The key to dealing with the irritating nature of money, or lack thereof, while away on a long trip is to know how to work around the matter and if you´ve read my previous posts you will know that I managed to get a lot out of Australia, albeit on a very tight budget, thanks to the kindness and generosity of fellow travellers, ON YA! oli, sally and jasper!
Right then, enough of the moaning, what´s next? New Zealand! Initially I had planned to fly to Christchurch, a city which rests about half way up New Zealand´s south island and gradually make my way up to Auckland on the North island over land but as a result of my new found financial restraints I had to alter my flight details - the STA multi-flex pass has become a life saver - to fly straight to Auckland and spend the couple of weeks I was in New Zealand solely in Auckland making the most of it on a shoestring budget and trying to save some money for the Latin beast who´s vast head is looming... Although I obviously would have loved to see more of New Zealand, the weeks I spent in NZ´s largest city were very pleasant and the slower pace of life was actually hugely welcomed as the last five months or so have been pretty hectic and non-stop. In regards to seeing Australia and New Zealand in more detail, I think that unless your Richie Rich it´s necessary to work and travel there as I have come across many many people who have moved over to those lands on a working visa which is apparently very easy to acquire (as long as you´re under 30) and have worked their way around...so you never know I might be back there again one day doing just that...! In addition to being able to base myself in one place for awhile there were other factors that made my stay there immeasurably more enjoyable as I was fortunate to know a few people who were living in the city. Some friends of the Saunders family, Mike and Fiona Woods, were kind enough to let me stay at their house for awhile and a couple of good friends from back home, Mark and Joe, were also living in Auckland having been travelling/working around New Zealand for the past six months. My time in Auckland therefore was divided into two periods, the first week was spent at "the Woods" who lived just across the harbour and the final ten days were spent at the Cosy Kiwi hostel in town which was where Mark and Joe were basing themselves and as a result i´ll divide Auckland into two corresponding posts which cover both periods respectively. Arriving in Auckland after a brief three hour stride over the Tasman Sea from Melbourne, I was met at the airport by Mark who had rolled up in one of the vans which he had borrowed from his work - the company, Escape Vans, hires out graffiti-covered camper vans for travellers who want to see New Zealand in their own leisurely way. In regards to the city itself, Auckland occupies a narrow isthmus of land that connects the Northern peninsula to the rest of the country’s North island and the city centre itself nestles between Manukau harbour on the Tasman Sea to the west and Waitemata Harbour on the Pacific Ocean to the east. As a result of being in such close proximity to the Tasman and Pacific, Auckland is interestingly one of only a few cities in the world to have harbours on two separate major bodies of water and at certain points less than 10km separates the sea from the ocean and this can clearly be seen from the top of Mt. Eden which rests just south of the city centre. Due to it´s vast harbours which are heavily populated by an army of yachts, the city has earned the nickname "The City of Sails" although maybe a more appropriate name would be the "City of Volcanoes" as Auckland, unbelievably, rests on a dense Volcanic field which is made up of forty-eight volcanoes which are thankfully now all dormant (I think!). Browsing through a tourist information leaflet that I picked up at the airport it also became apparent that Auckland, geographically, is very similar to the city of Sydney - although obviously on a smaller scale; a comparison I was able to make having just visited Australia´s "Harbor City". In both cities, the centre huddles around a central harbour that is connected to the North headland by a harbour bridge and both have ferries that can transport you all over the area.
Cruising towards the city in Mark´s work van, I caught my first glimpse of the Auckland skyline; an island of concete giants that is dominated by a large skytower which upon first glance, looks like a massive syringe that is in the process of injecting a dose of prosperity into the blue sky above. Mark did a brief lap of the city centre, cruising down the major thoroughfare Queen Street which cuts the city centre in half before driving along Tamaki Drive towards Mission Bay where we caught up over a beer, having not seen each other since we both left England´s fair shores over six months ago. Mark and Joe, upon reaching New Zealand back in October bought a van and had spent the past six months driving and working their way around New Zeland's North and South islands, finally settling in Auckland for their last two months in the country before they gradually make their way back to Blighty via Australia and South East Asia. Mark had picked up a job cleaning vans for Escape and Joe "Captain-Calcium" Edwards had become a successful door to door milk salesman and after hearing his cheesy sales pitch "Hey there! I´m your new milkman! Can you spare five minutes for a cheeky English lad?" I soon understood why....After a few more beers with Mark back in town, I hopped on the local ferry over to the suburb of Birkenhead which lies just north over the harbour and was greeted by Fiona and Mike Woods, friends of the family who kindly said I could stay for a few days, which generously turned into a week. Signing their visitors book, I came across a certain M. Saunders who first arrived at the Woods in October 1982, following in the old mans footsteps and all! Those seven days were spent catching the 974 into town everyday and strolling the streets, relaxing in Albert Park and the Auckland Domain (two very nice inner city green parks) and enjoying the glorious sunshine which had finally made a welcome appearance after an apparently miserable couple of weeks weatherwise. On one of the days over in Birkenhead, in addition to their hospitality, the Woods offered to take me for a ride in their newly acquired camper van to check out a bit of the West coast for the day which I was only too happy to accept as it gave me a chance to at least see a little of life and the countryside outside of Auckland. The first stop on the mini-tour was Muriwai beach that rests about 40km West of Auckland and as well as being a very popular spot for surfers the area also plays home to a large colony of gannets (large sea birds) which populate the cliff walls and rock stacks that stand above choppy waves below. It seems I got lucky with the weather as apparently it normally chucks it down here most days but I was fortunate enough to be blessed with a clear blue sky, perfect visibility of the area which allowed me to look all the way up the coast and a scorching sun. Looking down at the beach from the cliff top, the water was littered by a blanket of surfers who had been attracted to New Zeland´s West coast to enjoy the fine weather and, to my eyes at least, big waves - although Mike said that they were nothing compared to the monsters that trample in some days. The beach here is also unique due to it´s black sand caused by the iron content derived from the volcanoes in the area; interesting but not inviting for sunbathing! After spending some time observing the gannets going about their business and seeing a few surfing wipe outs down on the crashing waves we all hopped back in the camper van and continued the loop curving gradually back towards Auckland through rolling countryside that was rich in forest and sheep-grazing farm land. Passing by Helensville and then onto Waiwera and Orewa beaches - the latter with it´s thermal springs - before heading back to Birkenhead after a thoroughly enjoyable day out of the city.
Aside from Albert park, another favourite hang out in Auckland for me was the free weekly cultural gigs which were staged at Aotea Square, a meeting point for locals at the top of Queen Street. Seeing as I was in Auckland for just shy of three weeks I managed to catch a couple of these shows however the first week with Soul Samba Circus and the mighty Zoh Zoh was the best one I saw although the Maori hip-hop crew, Valiant Boys, doing a rendition of Biggie´s "Juicy" was also a highlight. Every Thursday a small stage was set up in the corner of the square with giant bean bags and deck chairs provided, although more often that not, the bands got people up and dancing barefoot on the grass lawn! Zoh Zoh were so good in fact, that I end this first post on Auckland with another edition of Biggle Vision (click on the Youtube button to expand in a new window)... enjoy the African vibes! The guy on guitar is Maori by the way, just to get the New Zealand fix.
x
The Auckland skyline from the Harbour bridge. As you can see from the numerous yachts, the "City of Sails" is an appropriate nickname.
Location of Auckland in New Zealand.
Arriving by ferry into the centre of Auckland.
The Auckland sky tower. The tallest free-standing structure in the Southern Hemisphere. Giant syringe.
Spent a lot of time in Auckland, so many of the days were spent chilling in Albert Park reading a book. Really relaxed place where students tend to hang out when taking their lunch from the univeristy which is just over the road.
Muriwai Beach
Muriwai Beach.
The surreal black sand is due to iron content in the land.
Heaps of surfers were out in force to enjoy the waves and sunshine.
The rock stacks were home to a colony of gannets.
The adults are the white ones with yellow heads and the young are the grey ones. While we were there the younger birds were flapping their wings, building up their strength for the important first flight!
Driving back to Auckland past rolling green hills.
Aotea Square watching Soul Samba Circus.
Aotea Square watching Zoh Zoh. The African roots band.
On my little Pac-Man graffiti mission (see Pac-Man Graffiti ) one of the alleyways I came across had a very angry door. With a very abusive message to anyone in dire need of a toilet. Beware...
Is the obliteration of your cock and balls worth it? IS IT!
