Return to New Zealand

I expected frosty nights and moist gardens. I got them. I looked forward to the sparkling moon crescent hanging over low lying long white clouds. I saw and immersed myself in their display. I relished in the long sloping roads of Auckland that led from craters to bays. I got to travel along them. I recalled the glowworms hanging from cave ceilings in South Island, and this time, I was reminded of them by the luminous glow provided by gnat larvae in Waitomo in North Island. My inner soul from a previous trip remembered hot chocolate, intense ice cream and tender lamb cuts, and I got to relish them again. The sulphur and steam at Rotorua are exactly as a London friend, Sue Dickinson, described them.









































At the same time, I am amazed this time by the variety of cosmopolitan food offerings in downtown and suburban Auckland. I stopped counting after having two modern Kiwi eatouts, three Hong Kong meals, one Korean lunch, two Vietnamese food gatherings and two Malaysian cafe eating sessions. There are Japanese supermarts along Queen Street and delightful sorbet/gelato offerings at Valentino's near the Auckland ferry pier waterfront. I dug in gustily into the pickled side dishes made at the KangNam Rail Station Restaurant at the upper end of Queen Street. The unagi (eel) I had at Kang Nam more than matched the one offered at the Japanese outlet at the food court in Newmarket's Westfield. Adrian and Lily Gomez had a multi-racial feast going for five of us at Seri Puteri's along Queen's Road in suburban Panmure, and I loved the yee mee noodles and roti canai pancakes. The dynamic business at Canton's was vibrantly reflected in its quick and efficient service, tasty dishes and endless line of customers. I particularly have a fondness for the tofu dishes in Auckland, whether at KK's or the Enjoy Inn along Great South Road. The hapuka fish, whether at Grand Harbour Restaurant in Auckland's Viaduct district or at Canton's, was both crispy and savoury. Tropical Vietnamese food was easy and light at both Hansan in Panmure and The Two Monkeys in the suburb of Mount Eden.





















I was lucky to have both family and friends this time around in my autumn sojourn this year to New Zealand. Cousin Mu Lan, and Aunt Keow cooked up various foods of my childhood from another place, another time. The warm broth of fei tang chok (Cantonese styled broth)was an antidote for the cold Auckland dawn, while Malaysian rose chicken curry spiced up nippy evenings. Another cousin, Irene, took a few of us to the Pei Tou, or North Island, Fokuangshan Temple built in Tang Dynasty style in Manukau City. My eldest niece Tze Yin took me on bus rides and walks that offered interesting journeys themselves, apart from the destinations. I found myself in a Taiwanese milkbar, Momos, but with good company, late at night and on a sunny day, strolling on the mouth of Mount Eden crater. I spent a leisurely Saturday afternoon with Shaun and Tze Yin enjoying the delicious chicken Burnout burger at Burgerfuel in Parnell, followed by a hot jaffa at the Chocolate Boutique, before being sent to the Airport for the trans-Tasman flight back. Aunty Chia kindly made home-made steamed pork buns and soft tender jerky that you normally see in Asia, instead of New Zealand. Richard Ong and his Mum brought delicious juicy feijoa fruits from their garden.

>



















The drive from the Rotorua region back to night time Auckland was longer than I thought, but brought back comparable memories of the countryside from a South Island tour long ago. I stood in the rain one dawn at 6.20am waiting for a bus in the suburb of Green Lane and loved the confronting outdoor elements of New Zealand. It was exhilarating to catch up with an ex-colleague and friend, Phaik Hoon, whom I have not seen for so many years. Blue eyed cod steamed in light and amazingly simple soy sauce at dinnertime was an antidote to the constant rain for two full days. It was hilarious that my umbrella turned inside out at the One Tree Hill Monument - I should have expected that, running out in the open at Cromwell Park. I was impressed with the Auckland Harbour Bridge when we were driven in a Mercedes Benz Compressor to the city's north shore, without having to pay any toll. A bored Maori security guard tapped out a catchy number on wood during the closing hour at Victoria Markets. I was impressed with Auckland's Link Bus - for a dollar sixty cents New Zealand, one could go round the city area admiring sights from near and afar, stopping anywhere one wishes, and while still riding, enjoy the latest news, GPS maps and weather forecasts on TV screens.





















(Queen Street Auckland and University of Auckland Business School images from the collection of Yong Tze Yin, May 2008)

Convocation Smiles

Big Day for niece Tze Yin and Shaun on her honours graduation day, 5 May 2008

Gathering at Albert Park in downtown Auckland, after completing the walk from the campus of University of Auckland

Arriving at the University of Auckland Business School

(Images form the collection of Yong Tze Yin, May 2008)

Watching Trains Go By

We cook and eat daily, unless we choose to dine out. The newspaper is delivered outside the door, if not straight on to our computers. We get ready to go out and then wind down when we come home. Monday mornings and Friday evenings see repeats of traffic rush. Holidays mean double demerit points applied if we commit road use offences and get caught.

We do business or work, invest our finances and hope there is accumulation of wealth. We try to convert monetary wealth to meaningful experiences of love, marriage, parenthood and family. Day and night come as predictably as the seasons, not just of nature, but also in sports, community events, skiing, fruiting seasons, surfing and cyclic payments and receipts. Babies are born, mature people try not to look older and youngsters can't wait to grow fast to savour forbidden things. People come and go, people promise to try to keep in touch and others actually do. Some meet unexpected encounters and get transformed. Some plan and gradually be what they hope to be. A few never change at all.

We acquire new interests. We drop some old habits. We never get near some things we hope we can try. We avoid what is instinctively not in our nature or inclination. We step into the unknown at times on the strength of someone we like - and who also encourage us. We huddle back into safe corners when we feel the rush of vibes not agreeable with us when we just put one foot into the untried. We move on, we freeze or we recede - for different reasons, various scenarios and with different people.

At times we get to watch and pause. Just like at the rail station that we use to commute. We can see others, we can reflect on ourselves. The train has not pulled up, or if it does, it is not ours to take us to our destination. We stand there on the platform or sit on the bench. We have a rare moment to watch the trains go by. We have the time to think about and for ourselves.We have the time to think of loved ones and what we can do for them. In the corner of our sight, we may spot someone we want to share our journey with. Or spot someone coming to join us and who is already sharing our journey.

Two Puppies

Last Saturday morning, two obviously boisterous puppies played on the road. They epitomized the playful part of their lives, but seemed to be engaged in a ritualised dancing sequence. I stopped my Forrester just in time in front of them, as they gleefully enjoyed each other's company so much so that they totally forgot that they were right in the middle of a man made road.

I caught the glint in their eyes - they could not have been more than 3 months, with a rich brown coat of fur and handsomely marked faces. I wondered, in a year's time, would they still retain their youthful lack of care and intense enjoyment of life? Maybe they had amazingly escaped from under the house fence and had been wanting for all these rainy days to just release their bountiful, but pent-up, energy and just savouring the freedom of running outdoors. Maybe they were just being themselves, without any inkling of what they should be, and had the freedom to do so. What is sure was that they were having the best time of their lives.

Each of us had once been fully like that. Like the two puppies, we had at least once soaked in the wonder of the boundless possibilities of a rejuvenated day and a refreshed world. Some of us are fortunate to feel like that every day, or have found the formula to do so. Was it because the two puppies had not yet been subject to a structured regime, or maybe they chose to ignore the rigid routine offered to them? I suspect the answer lies more in the attitude of the two lovely darlings at that stage of life.

Even if we did not want to, we are eventually shown and taught constraints, responsibilities and commitments. At times, some of us revel in such overlaid requirements that we find ourselves trapped by them, willingly or not. The liberty of a life is only appreciated by acknowledging the imprisonments of what we had to undergo to get and enjoy spontaneous freedom. These imprisonments may be in the form of education, societal expectations and economic requirements. An ideal life is exemplified by the joy of two puppies prancing on a street, but there is also a cost - hidden and obvious - of getting them there. Just ask their owners for a start.

Nevertheless, it does not stop me from relishing or anticipating opportunities to enjoy such moments. Once in a while, I want to immerse in the glory of life - pure, unfettered and intense.

Wollongong By Night

A regional town on the eastern seaboard of the Australian continental island, Wollongong may not appeal to some, day or night. Under the night sky, however, the Wollongong city lights do form a layered but flat cornucopia of twinkling electrical lights beside the darkness of the Tasman Sea. When you are in the middle of it, you do not realise or see it, but when you approach the city from the mountain top highway coming from Sydney or inland, the view turns up like a delightful surprise, especially after the pitch blackness of the nearby Royal National Park.

Looking up into the London sky often offers a grey lead colour, but putting up your eyes over the Wollongong area night sky suggests so many possibilities for telescopes, constellation identification and viewing of the moon. To an ex-Sydney sider like me, the heavens after twilight are definitely different and clearer. From Mount Keira, one can make out specific landmarks, buildings and roads.

Essentially a suburban conglomeration, Wollongong can be said to have a one-strip nightlife, centring around food, student life and pockets of night clubbing. Those from further down the South Coast do drive up to the city for a weekend night out, but those in Wollongong are drawn up north to the variety available in the Big Smoke of Sydney. The surf coast and the outdoor lifestyle are not fully utilized for its potential.

Krish, Daniel and I took a night ride after a Japanese dinner. We first came to a pitch-dark point overlooking the harbour, lit only by an imposing lighthouse on a weeknight. We then skirted the Wollongong golf course by the sea before heading out to Port Kembla. Mired in complex contraptions of steel and white belching smoke, the whole complex of Bluescope suggested to me of Gotham City after dark. There were hilly mounds of coal and waste discernible even in the darkness. Yes, there are shady goings-on at Port Kembla at night besides the production of steel.

Warrawong in the evenings look like the statistics it produces - high youth unemployment and deserted streets leading to a Westfield shopping centre. We drove up the road to the Nan Tien Temple even if we knew it had already closed - and just got the last outlined lights of its buildings before they were switched off at ten pm. The guard was friendly but firm in reminding us about opening and closing hours.