Vitam vas v Ceske Republice

Imagine being a baby again, but being as aware as you are now. Imagine not having the ability to speak properly & only having the capacity for a few simple phrases. Imagine what it is like being in this situation for days on end, only grasping the threads of conversation as they fly past at lightning speed. It’s exhausting. Like the thick grey fog that obscured Prague airport on our descent, I had now entered a vast linguistic cloud, that light could barely permeate. It was going to be a bumpy ride.

The first thing I noticed on arrival is that when people know you don’t understand, they don’t tend to direct conversation towards you. This is only natural as it would probably feel as ridiculous as talking to an animal, but it has a way of making you feel invisible. I felt disjointed, like a ghost hovering in the background. Thankfully, some forms of language breach the international barriers, and I was brought back to existence, with a firm handshake, a warm smile, and the chance to use a few of the expressions I did know. I instantly liked Lucie’s uncle.

That evening, the whole family gathered at her parent’s house to welcome us. Lucie had warned some of them of our impending visit, as we’d acknowledged the need to fuss and prepare in some, but her brothers and sister had been left in the dark. It was therefore, a great moment of joy and relief when her sister (two & a half years old) hugged her at the door, and didn’t want to let go the rest of the evening. Her brothers managed to take the moment more casually, although both were extremely overjoyed that she was home.
The evening was manic. So many happy faces, so many hugs and kisses, and so much I didn’t understand. Lucie translated as much as she could, but wasn’t often given the time before another question or piece of news was sent her way. Two and a half years away from a family home tends to promote conversational overlap and obliterate any chance of pauses. I picked up on what I could, and answered as many questions as possible in Czech, but largely I must have looked like an attentive dog - eyes following every word, but a vacant expression giving away my ignorance. Whatever I did manage to say, was greeted by her grandmother as if I’d danced on water, and my successes were immediately announced to the room. I look forward to the day that I can have a conversation with her; there’d be champagne & fireworks afterwards.

Much as our visit to the UK, our main reason for being here was simply to see the family, so I didn’t expect anything more. True, I would’ve liked to explore Prague, but I accepted this would be left to our next visit. It was therefore, a pleasant surprise to see a little of what her home town, ‘Pardubice’, is famous for. No, this wasn’t a demonstration of ‘Semtex’, although the action was just as explosive. ‘HC Pardubice’ are likened by her grandfather as the Manchester United of European Ice Hockey, due to their popularity and excellence. They have been the starting point of many players that now frequent the NHL (Dominik Hašek, Otakar Janecký, Aleš Hemský, Jan Bulis, Milan Hejduk, to name a few), and always guarantee an exciting match.

Less famously, but even more cherished, both Lucie’s father, uncle, and grandfather played here, and her younger brother, Vojta, currently plays in the youth team. Perhaps it was because of these connections, and not the fact her grandfather is in the ‘Ice Hockey Mafia’ (as suggested by her uncle) that we were able to attend the sell-out game without buying tickets and entered the stadium through the players’ entrance. We watched them trounce Ceske Budejovice and managed to catch up with one of Lucie’s friends in the process.

We only had two full days in Czech, and two half days when travelling in and out. We knew it would go fast, but I don’t think either of us expected it to be so tiring. There was barely a moment’s rest with always people to see or something to do. My fatigue was also partially attributed to the amount of alcohol I consumed. Lucie’s family’s hospitality towards me bordered on forced alcoholism, as nearly every meal was accompanied by beer and wine. On one occasion, this was with my first meal of the day, although admittedly, I’d slept in and was having an early lunch.

Despite our energy (and toxicity) levels, I greatly enjoyed our time in the Czech Republic, and look forward to returning. I hope that some day, we will explore this country as much as some of the others from our travelling. Perhaps, by then, I will be speaking the language fluently but I don’t expect that to occur for many years. There doesn’t seem to be a single word that is similar to the English version, there are soundings that are practically impossible to pronounce, and seven case endings to contend with (nominative, genitive, dative, accusative, vocative, locative, instrumental). At least, I have a willing teacher to help me along the way.

Round the world & back again

Two months of planning / eight weeks of lies and deception. What started as a simple suggestion in a text message, led to one of the most memorable Christmas Day’s ever. It was going to be a road-trip around NZ. It became a globe-trip.

It was the initial reaction that we’d been particularly looking forward to, and it didn’t disappoint – mainly because there were no heart-attacks or paramedics involved. My parents walked into the room and we came into view. A confused look of strained comprehension fighting against logical thought, forged lines across their brows. Then their jaws dropped, faces lit up, and eyes opened as wide as the doorway. Dad accepted the reality fairly quickly and his smile came easily. Mum, however, seemed to want to cross the room, and make sure we wouldn’t disappear when touched, before giving in to her joy. It was magical. The happiness spread from face to face like wildfire. When they had us in their arms, and resigned to the truth, their eyes shone like the sun, and tears fell to cool their cheeks. Sentences were restricted by emotions to single words and monosyllabic exhalations. They held us like a kid hugs ‘Santa’, and we returned the feeling ten-fold. It’s a moment that I believe will stay with me forever, and I’m eternally grateful to my brother for making it possible.

Many similar moments of surprise followed as we saw other family members and friends, but none were as emotionally potent as the first. Some people managed to act casual in their greeting but confusion reined supreme on their faces. It was obvious that people wondered if it was their eyes, memory, or knowledge that had failed them.

The main afterthought to this surprise was realizing how well, Lucie, I, Stuart, & Em, had all managed to lie so convincingly over the previous 2 months. Granted, this was made distinctly easier by the fact it was highly unlikely to occur, but the web of lies was still intricate and compelling. In our defense, I can only offer that the cause was just.

In total, we only had around 4 full days in England, broken up in the middle by a trip to the Czech Republic. We’d traveled around the world and back again, and barely had time for our bodies to adjust to the time difference. Our reasons for such a short trip is mainly attributed so a limited annual holiday allowance at work. Every extra day we stayed in the UK, would be the loss of a long weekend exploring New Zealand. There was also little point in hanging around into the New Year as people had to return to work. It would only be delaying the inevitable.

I managed to catch up with a couple of friends, but as most had even quicker visits planned to their respective family homes, I missed many more. In truth, we didn’t do all that much when back – we ate loads and slept loads. We lazed around in front of the fire, sank into sofas, and wrapped ourselves around booze. People back in New Zealand asked me afterwards (amongst other questions) what the weather was like. I told them, “it was cold, wet, gray, and miserable – it was perfect.”

There are many different opinions offered on what home is: “where the heart is”; “the place you can never be turned away from” etc. And it is those things, but to us, we noticed it is the place we felt completely relaxed in. When walking into both Stu & Em’s, and my parent’s places, we felt worries dissipate & warmth surround us. Cynics may utter that this is the wonder of central-heating (a novelty not seen in most of New Zealand), but others will think about their homes, and know exactly the sensation I describe.

Sulphur Searching...

There wasn’t much cause to stop in Hamilton. A museum, a zoo, and a Mormon temple are among the top attractions. However, there is another option that offered us something more appealing.

We’d taken a Friday off work in reward for successfully Christmas shopping for 14 people on the previous weekends, and now sought a relaxing long weekend. The botanical gardens 3 km south of Hamilton city-centre seemed like the ideal place, both geographically and psychologically, to make our first stop on this journey. The place is a multitude of contemplation arenas brought from across the globe and its ages. A Chinese scholar’s garden from around the 11th century is a good place to start, before you drift, ‘Shoin’ style, into the Japanese offering of Zen. Moving forward, we passed through the Italian Renaissance, felt more at home in 19th century England, and ended up in American modernism. Ironically, as the world changed around us, it felt that time stopped and our stress evaporated. Our only reason for finally moving on was the hunger that awoke us from this state. Our stomachs craved similarly deep nourishment to that our minds had received and we retreated to the car seeking sustenance.

We made the rest of the distance to ‘Rotorua’ in good time, and after a little phoning around, it wasn’t long before we were collapsed on our bed, and rejoicing in relaxation. We agreed that we wouldn’t worry about money this weekend (as much), and would consequently free ourselves from one of a traveller’s biggest concerns. Technically speaking, we haven’t been ‘travellers’ for some months now, but while we’re still seeing new things, have others still to see, and haven’t won the lottery, we still worried about the most cost effective way of doing everything. With our grand plans, this may remain our disposition for quite some years.

My parents had previously recommended the ‘Stone Grill Dining’ restaurant in ‘Rotorua’. There is another one in Auckland, not 20 metres from my office building, but as we were new in town, had no intention of cooking, and were getting hungry again, we went to that which was known. It didn’t disappoint. The novelty of this restaurant is the fact your food is brought to you, with the meat uncooked, and served on a slab of rock that has been heated to approximately 400 degrees Celsius by a custom designed oven. The extent of cooking (or secondary murder, in the case of steak) is then down to your discretion. Plate-licking is not recommended.

The next morning saw the only event that had a strict schedule, and therefore commanded some form of organisation and coordinated movement from us. At 10:15am every morning, the ‘Lady Knox Geyser’ at ‘Wai-O-Tapu’ begins her aquatic firework display to an audience drawn from afar. Those already sceptical of this reliably predictable event are correct to suspect. It seems ‘Mother Nature’ needs a little help these days, and is aided in this instance, by a few hundred grams of soap powder. This decreases the surface viscosity and sets off the show. Not exactly 100% natural, but at least it cuts down on the waiting and provides an impressive display.

If this did disappoint, then the rest of the ‘thermal wonderland’ would more than make up for it. I’ve never seen such amazing variety of colours in mud, lakes, and rocks. These included an amazing collection of pools and submerged terraces of incredible contrasting colours appropriately called ‘The Devil’s Paint Palette’, and the famous ‘Champagne Pool’ – a 60 metre wide explosion crater with bubbling green waters and deep orange borders.

On the way out, we stopped at the mud pools and spent far too long desperately trying (and mostly unsuccessfully), to capture the moment the mud bubbles burst, before returning to town. This left us the afternoon to explore the local thermal option, ‘Whakarewarewa’. It lacked dramatic impact after our morning’s viewings, but made up for it in cultural offerings – despite feeling somewhat Disney-like. There was a ‘Maori’ village, live sculpture carving, and an educational show demonstrating ‘Maori’ customs, dances, and songs. For lunch, we opted for the traditional ‘hangi’ – a mix of chicken and vegetables, wrapped in leaves and cooked underground.

In the evening, we reached the climax of relaxation - a post-dinner dip in the hot pools of the ‘Polynesian Spa’. This was built on the site of ‘Priest Springs’ and offered 31 hot mineral pools ranging in temperature and pH value, the majority of which overlook ‘Lake Rotorua’. We watched the clouds turn pink, the sky a deep orange, and the first stars appear. The air cooled and we sank deeper into the warmth. If we’d taken drinks along, we’d have stayed for hours.

The next day, we took the long way back to Auckland. Stopping first at the local adventure park, to see where ‘Zorbing’ was born, and then at ‘Kaituna Falls’ – a 7m drop that we intended to white-water raft over at a later date. Next it was an hour or two on the beach at the Bay of Plenty before a reluctant drive back to Auckland and an end to our break. We found ‘Rotorua’ to be a great escape with many colourful surprises and many adventures left to tackle. We never did quite get used to the sulphurous smell that engulfs the town, but it wasn’t as bad as we’d expected. The hint of eggs was there, but they weren’t quite rotten yet.

Warming up for Christmas

In the run up to Christmas, we felt at odds with our surroundings. The warmer it got, the less festive it seemed. As everyone moaned about a patch of cold, wet weather, we experienced a whisper of what felt more right.


The days grew hotter and the evenings longer. It became customary for us to take our dinner to our bedroom, climb out the window, and dine on the roof – drinking red wine until the sun went down and the warmth left the glass.


At the start of December, we were visited by some friends of traveling past. Olli & Rikka, a Finnish couple we’d first met on Fraser Island in Queensland, and later said goodbye to in Cairns, were passing through Auckland on their way home. Both of our travels had ended for now, although Lucie & I were a lot farther from where we started. It was a nice feeling to catch up with old friends, in a new place, and as if no time had passed. We swapped our amended traveling resumes and toasted our onward journeys. I’m sure we’ll see them again, but in what country or year, remains to be clear.