As You Like It

Way, way, back, many centuries ago, a chap called William Shakespeare, a member of the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, built a theatre for the exhibition of his plays. It was on the south bank of the Thames, and was called The Globe. It burnt down in 1613 during a performance of Henry VIII, but was rebuilt the following year. It was closed by the Puritans in 1642, and pulled down a couple of years later.

In 1997, a replica Globe was built on the South Bank of the Thames, close to its original location. And in 2016, a pop-up Globe was built in Auckland for the first time. This was repeated in 2017, and we decided to pay it a visit.

Normally, visiting Auckland is a fairly mundane experience. However, we had failed to anticipate the other attraction that was on offer on the particular weekend we had chosen: The Boss was in town, performing at Mt Smart stadium. This meant that accommodation was in short supply, and air fares had also obeyed the rules of supply and demand and gone through the roof. We gritted our teeth and booked the flights and one of the few remaining hotel rooms at Rydges.

We’d arrived early in the morning, so to pass the time of day we decided to visit the suburb of Ponsonby, which is just down the road from the CBD. We boarded an Inner Link bus until we reached Ponsonby Road, and then walked along from there. We stopped for lunch at Adam Arnold’s Café Bar, where we lunched on bread, halloumi, and cured salmon. The waiter said to us “sounds like you’re from my part of the world”, to which we replied “What, Wellington?” which flummoxed him somewhat…especially as he’d addressed us in a Yorkshire accent. So we explained, and all was well in the world again.

We set out for the venue, which has been built at Ellerslie race course, by train. It’s a five minute walk from the station. When we got there, we checked out the hospitality options available and sat down with a bread and cheese platter, washed down with a glass of The King’s Bastard (chardonnay) and The King’s Favour (sauvignon blanc).

We were seated in the middle level of the theatre. All the seats give a good view, as they are around the edge of the theatre. There is also standing room on the ground floor, which was presumably cheaper, and also involved the hazard of being accosted by the actors who used it as part of the stage at times. We were there to see As You Like It, which is a comedy based on a woman dressing up as a man, and fooling him. In this respect, it’s very similar to all the other Shakespeare comedies. As they’d taken the Shakespeareanism of the production to heart, the leading woman, Rosalind, was in fact played by a man.

The production was very well done; the comedy, for once, was actually funny – largely helped by a lot of physical comedy, particularly from Adam, Orlando’s servant. Also there was a very funny flautist, who started playing whenever anyone started getting amorous.

It was all jolly good fun and went on long into the night. we finally rolled out at around 11:00pm and caught the first available train back to the city centre.

Queenstown

Guess what? Summer’s arrived. Long, lazy days on the beach, watching cricket whilst drinking beer, all that sort of thing. Of course, this is mostly restricted to the weekends, except for those times when one of New Zealand’s multitudinous public holidays rolls around. A couple of weeks ago, it was Wellington Anniversary day, and we went off to watch The Black Caps hammer Pakistan at The Basin Reserve. This week just past is when New Zealand celebrates the document which underpins the nation, the Treaty of Waitangi, on Waitangi Day.

And what were we doing to celebrate? Well, we’d already flown south to Queenstown to rendezvous with Alison, who was on an extended holiday from the UK. We’d entertained her in Wellington the previous weekend, before putting her on the Interislander to explore the Queen Charlotte Track by herself.

We arrived in Queenstown by lunchtime, and after settling in to our digs at Amity Lodge (scary name much?) we went for an explore in the 30° heat. After a quick lunch at Pier 19, we went to the Minus 5° Ice Bar, ostensibly to cool off, but also to sample one of their many delicious cocktails, all based, unsurprisingly, on flavoured vodka from Absolut.

That's pretty cool

Alison arrived from Christchurch in the early evening, and we all headed back into town for dinner at Roaring Meg’s. We had ravioli and prawn salad to start, followed by salmon and steak. The chef seemed to have some difficulty understanding medium rare, and I decided not to send the second medium-cooked steak back, as I figured if he couldn’t get it right on the first two tries, he was unlikely to do so a third time. I think the waiter knew this as he scooted off and hid as soon as he served me. The salmon, though, I’m told, was excellent. The puddings were pretty good too.

We decided not to avail ourselves of the various night-time debauchery options available in Queenstown, and went up the hill to our room, and bed.

The following morning we rose early-ish, and walked into town to find some breakfast. We looked in at Patagonia but decided that we wanted something more breakfast-y. We looked at their range of gelati and frozen yoghurts, however, and marked their card for later in the day, before taking the recommendation of Alison’s guide book and going to Vudu. A fairly substantial special of the day included toast, spicy beans, eggs and chorizo, while the girls had something a little more ladylike. We then booked ourselves onto the Million Dollar Cruise, which fortunately costs $999,965 less than the price would suggest. We also took a look underwater at the Shotover Jet pier, where there is an underwater observatory. You can pay $1 to release some food into the lake, which keeps the population of brown and rainbow trout forever nearby.

A little before 11 o’clock we boarded the Million Dollar cruise boat, which took us out around the lake, whilst the captain pointed out local points of interest, some history from around the lake, and commentary on the wildlife.

Southern crested grebe

We weren’t hungry by the time the boat got back, so decided to defer lunch in favour of a walk through the around the headland that contains the Botanical Gardens, to an art gallery that the captain of the cruise had pointed out. What he had failed to point out was that it closed by 2pm on Sundays, as we arrived at 2:05. Bah! We walked back through the Botanical Gardens, interrupting various games of Frisbee golf that were being played on the course along the way. By this time we’d worked up a bit of an appetite, so we joined the continuous queue that forms outside Fergburger from about breakfast time onwards. Fergburger have cornered the market of tasty burgers in Queenstown to the point where it’s practically obligatory to try one, thus continuing to fuel the hype. That said, there wouldn’t be any hype if they weren’t serving up a superior class of burger. The Ferg double cheese did the job, alright.

Next on the agenda was the briefing for the activity we would be undertaking over the next three days - walking the Routeburn Track. This is held at the offices of the tour operator, Ultimate Hikes. they gave advice on what we could expect, the weather conditions, and what to take. We duly noted this and went downstairs to their conveniently-located shop to add to our equipment as necessary.

We went out in the evening, even though we weren't particularly hungry, then decided to get an early night before setting out at 6 o'clock the following morning.

Oh, What A Circus

Do you know, I’ve only ever been to one Andrew Lloyd Webber musical? And that’s because someone gave me a ticket. I went to see Starlight Express at the Apollo Victoria theatre. It was rubbish.

This week, however, Evita is in town, and I thought I’d give him (Lloyd Webber, that is) another chance. We scored some tickets for the Saturday matinee performance. We went for a quick lunch at Egmont St Eatery, a new-ish café on (you guessed it) Egmont St. This café had recently taken the award for “best burger” at this year’s Burger Wellington competition – I’d even eaten the burger in question during Wellington On A Plate – so I was looking forward to trying it again. I asked the waitress if this was the same award-winning burger, and she told us it was its “little brother”. It was, to coin a phrase, a tasty burger. It had everything you want in a burger, and nothing you didn’t. In the spirit of Burger Wellington, I washed it down with a Hapi Daze from Garage Project. Mmm, tasty. Nicola had a cheese and ham toasted sandwich.

We were just across the road from the Opera House, so a short walk took us there, where we met up with some of Nicola’s fellow chorussers, who had got the tickets for us. And we settled back to watch and listen.

You probably know a couple of the tunes – Don’t Cry For Me Argentina and Oh What A Circus. The rest were fairly standard musical fare in a variety of musical styles from classical to latin. The story follows the rise of Eva, her marriage to an up and coming army colonel, Juan Peron, and her subsequent career as the first lady of Argentina. At the end she dies. The musical ends very abruptly at this point…I was expecting a big finale (no matter how inappropriate that might sound), but there isn’t one.

We emerged blinking into the sunlight…ha! Afternoon performances will do that to you!

Wellington On A Plate 2013

And they’re off! Yes, Wellington On A Plate has started again for 2013, and with it the Burger Wellington competition.

We went out for lunch today from work to Trade Kitchen – a venue I’ve been to many a time in the past – to sample their offering, the Fat Boy’s Revenge burger. This is a standard beef burger with a gruyere and La Boca Loca chili relish, and is a useful calibrating burger – nothing too flash or unusual, but a definite quality burger. I scored it 8.

The burger was served with triple-cooked fries, and a glass of beer for $8 – I chose the Renaissance Pilsner.

All in all, a satisfactory start to this year’s shenanigans. We’re off to Plum tonight for their Dine Wellington menu, then on to see Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing, as part of the New Zealand International Film Festival.

Mount Difficulty

In the morning we drove down to Clyde and Alexandra. Clyde is where the river is dammed to make lake Dunstan, by which Cromwell sits (having been mostly relocated out of the way of the lake).

At Alexandra, we walked along the shore of the river Clutha, New Zealand's second-longest river. On the way back, we stopped at the Cromwell lookout, which (unsurprisingly) looks out over Cromwell and lake Dunstan.

How's the serenity?

We then carried on to Mt Difficulty to taste some wines, and also have lunch, which we'd booked some time ago.

We arrived on a lovely sunny day. Mt Difficulty is in the Bannockburn wine-growing area of the Central Otago region, and is one of the better-established vineyards in the area. Well known for its "Roaring Meg" label, I tried all styles of wines before settling down with the pinot noirs, which are the speciality of the region. We lunched off a cold platter of mixed cheeses, meats and pickled vegetables, washed down with more of their wine, all very civilised and leisurely.

In the evening we chilled out under an almost-full moon.

Life is hard.

Queenstown

Christmas day dawned hot and bright. We made a leisurely start to the day, then headed into Queenstown for lunch. After finding a convenient parking spot, we wandered around a the town a bit, noting where the TSS Earnslaw is moored (this would be important on Boxing Day) and seeing folk down on the beach dressed as santa:

We then headed for our Christmas lunch at Tatler, where traditional turkey and Christmas pudding was on offer. In the 31º heat we decided against that - fortunately there were more climate-friendly options on the menu.

We took a walk through the Botanical Gardens in Queenstown, where there were all kinds of birds sunbathing:

...before heading back to our accommodation, and escaping the heat. In the evening we sat outside, drinking wine in the evening sunshine.

Arrowtown

We drove along State Highway 6 almost back to Queenstown, before turning off to arrive in the picturesque Arrowtown. Arrowtown was a town built on gold, discovered in 1862, but since then has remained and is now a popular holiday spot. The town has retained a lot of the old buildings, suitably restored, and is full of shops selling stuff that people don't need, and cafés and restaurants.

We selected Café Mondo more or less at random, and had a perfectly acceptable lamb burger and pear & blue cheese salad. I washed mine down with a couple of cold Moas, which meant that Nicola had command of the car keys for the rest of the afternoon.

Sculpture in the café courtyard

There are a number of walks in and around Arrowtown and we may take the opportunity to do one of these later in the week. As it was, we started one, looking for a LOTR site, which may or may not have been here:

We'll have to check the locations book when we get home to find out what was filmed here.

After a quick paddle through the river, and an exploration of the shops, we then headed back along SH6, also known as the Gibbston Highway (as it passes through the Gibbston Valley), where we stopped at the imaginatively-named Gibbston Valley Winery. We tasted some of their wines, including a notable Le Fou Riesling. They also make their own cheeses on the premises, so we went and tasted them in the shop next door as well. 

Further along the Gibbston Highway we stopped at a lookout over Roaring Meg, a tributary of the Kawarau river, which is now the site of a hydro-electric power station. As we were admiring the scenery, we noticed some people in the water: yes, it seems that the sport of "putting on a wetsuit and being swept downriver in a raging torrent" is a popular pastime in this area!

Mad kiwis

Tauranga

We cleaned the bach, packed our bags and hit the road early, to drive down to Rotorua via Tauranga. We wanted to call in to visit some friends of Sacha’s who’d emigrated to New Zealand last year. We stopped along the way at Matamata for coffee, then took a longer break at Karangahake Gorge, an old 19th century gold mining site which now has interesting walkways through the old mine works and up the river. Part of the walkway is through tunnels drilled into the rock, for which a torch is advisable. We didn't have a torch, and it was pitch black inside - you literally had to feel your way with arms outstretched to feel the sides of the tunnel before you got round a bend from which daylight was visible. 

Phew! Daylight!

We spent a couple of hours at the gorge, which also had several bridges of a suspension type which were a bit wobbly - the sign said maximum 10 people.

We stayed for lunch at the café before setting off for Tauranga and arrived at mid-afternoon. We’d thought that we’d be able to find the street where Sacha's friends lived quite easily, but had been hampered by the fact that there was no wifi at the bach, and so had been unable to look it up on the internet. You don’t realise how much you take it for granted these days, until you haven’t got it! Tauranga is New Zealand’s 6th  largest city, and also its fastest growing. Fortunately, we were able to follow road signs to an i-site, and get a map from there. It turned out that it was really easy to get to, and if we’d just carried on driving we’d have found it by blind luck.

We drove down to the wharf to the fresh fish market, and ordered fish & chips from the eatery there. They serve fish of the day, freshly caught, with chips on trays – none of you fancy-schmancy “plates” and “cutlery”! It wins awards every year as "best fish'n'chips" in the Bay Of Plenty. Lucinda had thoughtfully brought cutlery for all of us, as well as some cold Speight’s, tartare and tomato sauces, and vinegar. We sat outside on the dockside, our every move watched by a large flock of seagulls, who doubtless make a living by snatching food from the unwary and inattentive.

Afterwards we went for a walk along the beach towards Mount Maunganui, where a surf boat race was in progress; 

Mount Maunganui

and then had to take our leave as we wanted to get to Rotorua before night fell, in order to get into our next bach. The instructions for getting the key were somewhat convoluted, and we didn’t really want to be trying to find it in the dark! We found it with no trouble, and unpacked ourselves, nipped out for some necessary groceries from the local garage shop, before having an early night: we had a long day ahead of us tomorrow.

Hot Water Beach

One of Coromandel’s attractions is Hot Water Beach, where you go out at low tide, dig yourself a hole in the sand, and sit in the water which is heated by geothermal activity just at this one point on the coast. We’d checked the tide times, and equipped ourselves with a couple of shovels from the bach. Low tide wasn’t until midday, so we drove up the coast to a local Kiwi reserve we’d spotted the previous day, and took a walk around the loop track into the forest. The Department of Conservation gave the walk as one hour, but we covered it in less than half that, even stopping along the way to admire the trees and wildlife. We concluded that the DOC estimated times at the pace of the slowest, and that they’d found some guy with a Zimmer frame to time the walk. This was information that would come in handy later on in the week.

We had time on our hands, so drove around the long way to Whitianga and stopped there for a coffee before heading back to Hot Water Beach in time for low tide. There were upwards of 100 people doing the same thing – and this on a Monday, when we thought it would be less crowded than at the weekend – so we tried to find a suitable space to dig. Unfortunately, the dictum goes that if you find a spot where no-one else is digging, this is usually because it’s too hot there, so everyone crowds into one small area. Fortunately we found a hole that was about to be vacated by some Danes and were thus able to take freehold possession of a “pre-loved” hole in the sand. Some areas in it were quite hot, but with a bit of judicious swirling around we managed to get an even temperature. We undertook a bit of remedial digging to re-establish the walls, and sat down.

Then you just sit in your hole of hot water. After a while, this does become a bit tedious, so we didn’t stay very long. We washed off the sand in the sea, got changed and headed down the road to get some lunch.

The Purangi Winery had been recommended to us by Hayden the day before, as they not only sell wine but also create a range of liqueurs and spirits, and have a wood-fired pizza oven. We went to the tasting room and tried the wines – indifferent Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir, and then spirits, which included feijoa, boysenberry and plum liqueurs, gin, slivovicza and arraq, “Old China” ginger wine, and feijoa cider. Sadly I had to take only tiny sips of these as I had the car keys. 

Our host told us all about the history of feijoa and kiwi fruit in New Zealand, as well as giving random information on all the subjects under the sun, and showed us his weta (dead), Maori adzes and gizzard stones from moa that he’d collected. He was a bit of a character and talked nineteen to the dozen, and was very enthusiastic about all his products. We bought some feijoa liqueur to take with us, and went next door to order our pizza. We sat down in the sunshine, where we watched a life-and-death struggle between a cicada and the spider into whose web it had flown. Every time the spider came near the cicada kicked and struggled, and the spider was unable to inject its venom, and backed away. Eventually the spider got past the kicking and from then on it was only going to end one way. We debated whether to set the cicada free, but decided that nature must take its course. We wondered whether the spider would take his kill home proudly to Mrs. Spider, who would then say “and how d’you expect me to cook that?”

The pizzas arrived, and were delicious.

Melbourne

Walking round the rainy city

On Monday, we were due to take the hire car back to the airport, so popped down to the café for some raisin toast before making an early start down the Calder Highway. We made good time, handed back the car, and then took a taxi into central Melbourne.

We dropped off our bags at the hotel, which was on Little Bourke Street next door to the Punch Lane wine bar, an old haunt from Jason’s Melbourne days. First port of call in Melbourne was the art gallery, where we were searching for a picture that Nicola had seen once, long ago (and possibly in a far-off galaxy). Our search was unsuccessful, so we then set out on a more realistic search, for some lunch. We walked along the length of the South Bank, seeing the sights along the way, then went to a restaurant of Jason’s choosing on the river, Pure South, which provided us with an excellent meal.

After a spot of shopping in the CBD, we reassembled in the Punch Lane Wine Bar for a glass or two of wine and some canapés, before heading out to the main event of the evening – dinner at Movida. This is a tapas restaurant that has grown from a small place (last time I visited Melbourne in 2007) to a three-outlet empire with a large venue on Little Bourke Street. We had a good selection of starter and main course tapas, all brought with a decent time interval between them so that we could drink and enjoy the setting fully. Hero of he meal must have been the braised ox cheeks – beautifully tender and succulent.

Afterwards we walked home amongst the partying revellers of Melbourne, many of whom were in fancy dress – it was, after all, 31^st October.

Next day we went for breakfast at The European, just around the corner from our hotel on Spring Street, opposite the state parliament. There were many behatted people about as it was Melbourne Cup day, and the good citizenry of Melbourne get all dressed up to go to the races.

After checking out of the hotel, we decided to head out of town and down to St Kilda beach, catching a tram down to the main street, and then walking along, taking photos of the local wildlife…

…and the obligatory picture outside the entrance to Luna Park, the amusement park that’s been there for decades.

We looked into a number of shops along Acland Street before lunching at Cicciolina, an old-established Italian named after the famous Italian politician.

Our best-laid plans to return to Castlemaine went slightly aglay as the train we intended to catch turned out not to be running, as it was a bank holiday and so the Saturday timetable was in force. We got back to Castlemaine just in time to pick up Nellie from the café and go home for a quiet night in, after the hecticness of the past two days.

Gold

Always believe in your soul

You have the power to know

You’re indestructible

Always believe in

On Saturday morning we drove into town to take our Gold medal test. Unfortunately we’d made a bit of a mix-up with the times, and were an hour later than we thought we should be. This in  itself wasn’t a major stumbling-block as they’re fairly flexible about timing, but it meant that almost as soon as we arrived we were thrust into the test with very little practice or warm-up beforehand. That said, we know the routines pretty well by now, but I was somewhat disappointed with my performance and didn’t think that I’d given it my best shot.

Afterwards we went for a coffee with another couple, then after a spot of shopping, parked up and went to lunch at Le Métropolitain, a French (never! ;-)) café on Cuba Street. This was a final foray into Wellington On A Plate, and the first time that we’d gone for the burger option – one of the competitions run during the WOAP fortnight is the Burger Wellington, whereby each participating venue creates a burger especially for the competition, and is voted on by members of the public. In terms of originality, the “Allo Allo! Burger” was nothing special – melted cheese, bacon and mushroom topping – but it was very well executed, served with hand-cut string fries, and generally pretty good. It was the first time we’d been to Le Métropolitain (we’d tried once before, but it was fully booked…we avoided that trap this time) and we liked it a lot, so I think we’ll head back there sometime and sample the rest of their menu.

As is usually the case when we do our medal tests, there was a social dance in the evening. We packed our dancing shoes, caught a cab into town, and turned up at around 8pm. Some of our usual gang weren’t able to make it that night, but there were enough people there that we knew, and we are now confident enough to take to the floor for nearly all the dances, apart from the advanced ones that we’ve not started yet, like the tango. However, we have been promised a start on the quick-step next term, so that should add to our repertoire.

We had our medal ceremony, but unfortunately our medals hadn’t arrived - just the certificates and the examiner's marks and comments - so no pic of the shiny gold one that we have both attained.

Lunch On The Terrace

Well, my life has got so boring now that I’m in employment, and I’m aware that I haven’t blogged for a week, so I thought I’d share with you the menu for our lunch today, when we invited one of Nicola’s work friends, who’s also been a stalwart of our quiz team successes:

Sesame-crusted seared tuna

With wasabi mash and chimichurri sauce.

Moussaka

With Greek salad

Pear tarte tatin

With cinnamon ice cream.

I was watching Masterchef UK the other day, and the bit where they send the contestants off to work in a professional kitchen (it was Asia De Cuba) involved one of the cooks making seared tuna, with the above accompaniments. I decided to improve on this by crusting the tuna in sesame seeds rather than just salt & pepper, and cooking it in sesame oil. I’m told (by my highly biased audience) that it worked.

Chimichurri sauce is basically a South American version of salsa verde. With added chillis. I may “improve” this again next time by using fresh green chillis rather than dried red ones.

Moussaka – well, you don’t need a receipt for this, but it does get to use up one of our surfeit of cinnamon quills.

Talking of which, I made cinnamon ice cream to accompany the tarte tatin. I looked up various recipes on the interwebs, and tried to synthesise them into something that would work for me. Whilst I can hardly claim this as original, I adapted the quantities and such, so it’s not a direct copy of anyone else’s as far as I can see; I can also tell you that it works:

450 ml cream*

150 ml half-fat, semi-skimmed, “slim”, milk – not the grey stuff

125g caster sugar

6 egg yolks**

2 cinnamon quills

Put the cream, milk and cinnamon in a saucepan and bring to the boil, then leave it to cool for 30 minutes to infuse. Whisk the egg yolks and sugar together in a bowl until pale yellow. Strain a little bit of the cream into the egg mixture, then reheat the rest of the cream to boiling point, let it cool for a couple of minutes, and strain the rest in gradually, mixing it in all the time to stop the eggs scrambling. Pour the mix back into the saucepan and heat gently until it’s thick and coats the back of a spoon, but don’t let it boil.

Chill overnight (I do this by pouring a stiff G&T and watching the telly, but each to their own ;-))

Then churn the custard in your ice cream machine, until…er…you’ve made ice cream. Simples! ;-)

So there you are. A blog about our life in New Zealand that also includes recipes…what’s not to like?!

* NZers don’t seem to have the concept of single and double cream, but it looks like single to me.

** Everyone says “What do you do with the whites?” You can make a pav if you like, but frankly I don’t, really. I just flush them down the sink. They are the least economically useful part of the egg (apart from the shell) and I don’t mind chucking them out.