Tag Archives: winter

The year that was

Everywhere I look the last 12 months are being reviewed – news, sports, politics – the best of, the worst of – clearly this is the time of year for reflection. Never being one to miss a trend, here’s our year in review.

It started in a cold UK and ended in a warm and sunny New Zealand. Along the way there has been travel, adventure, triumphs and sadness. Going back through the photo album, a few images leapt out.

A Kiwi Christmas

As a kiwi, Christmas is all about summer, barbecues at the beach, Christmas decorations that make no sense and Turkey roasts eaten on a steamy hot summer’s day. It’s what we know and love.

Last year was the first time I have ever spent Christmas in a cold place and suddenly it all made sense. A quick flick through the photos from last year brought back memories of Sorrento – where every year at the start of December, as winter arrives, the Christmas lights are turned on.

A little more about Wellington

There’s a saying – “you can’t beat Wellington on a good day”. But sadly at this time of year those good days are few and far between.

Today, after rain for the last 3 days, it was a good day. I was driving back from the city around Oriental Bay, one of the more affluent parts of the city, and the temptation to stop and take some photos was too strong.

Oriental Bay is only 5 minutes drive from the city centre and is a favorite spot for Wellingtonians – everyone from families walking dogs through to lunchtime joggers.

Until a few years ago the beach was just rocks and boulders but the city council decided to re-sand the beach, building break waters at either end of the bay to keep the sand from washing away. For the most part it worked with only an annual top up of sand and some re-distribution from one end of the beach to the other being needed.

In summer the beach is packed with locals making the most of this inner city asset.

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“Well the weather outside is frightful …”

And yesterday the song lyrics were pretty much right. We had strong winds and rain, and the view from our front window was less than idyllic. But it was Sunday, a chance to hunker down and to do nothing much in particular. It was a challenge we were happy to take up.

Our place – Wellington

Having written about various parts of the world over the last year it’s time to write about our place, Wellington, New Zealand. It’s where I was born and where I have lived since.

After every overseas trip or holiday there has always been a feel of welcoming as I have flown into Wellington airport sandwiched, as it is, between the harbour and the rugged southern coast.

The landings always have that added excitement that comes from the wind – either blustery northerly or persistent southerly. It is part and parcel of living in a city on the edge of Cook Strait – where wind funnels between the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean.

Wellington is a city built around a harbour and the harbour defines the city. The tall buildings of the city centre stand close to the water on flat ground while behind them and beside them houses are stacked up the hills like boxes, desperately clinging on, living in fear that a strong gust of wind will dislodge them.

The best place to appreciate the scope of Wellington is from the top of Mount Victoria. It’s only a 10 minute drive from the city centre but the panoramic views are spectacular. North across the harbour to the Hutt Valley with mountain ranges as the backdrop, or south and east across Evans Bay to the airport, the south coast and beyond that – Antarctica.

Yesterday evening I took my trusty Nikon to the Mount Victoria lookout and tried to do Wellington justice.

The big freeze – a kiwi perspective

We were warned for the best part of a week, it was from Russia and it was going to hit Saturday night. Road gritters started gritting the roads mid week and Heathrow cancelled one third of their flights in advance. It was the arrival of ‘the big freeze’.

In the last couple of years the UK has developed a habit of grinding to a halt when the first decent snowfall of winter arrives. Airports close, roads are impassable and trains never leave the station. The country essentially stalls until the snow melts.

This year was a repeat of the past with snow falling all night Saturday. As a result, Sunday was all about warnings to ‘not leave home’ and to ‘reduce your speed’ if, indeed, you had to go out at all. Having said that, by Monday everything was largely back to normal with an inch or so of snow hanging around on the ground. For those up early in the morning, ice was the main hazard.

From a kiwi viewpoint the “big freeze” was actually quite fun. The neighbourhood was pure white when we woke up on Sunday and we’ve had two days of winter wonderland since. It was also a great two days to take some photographs.

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On the move

The last week has seen the team from Aspley Guise pack up and move to Bromham. That’s a distance of about 30 kilometres but the move involved serious logistics and planning as well as a decent dollop of muscle over the weekend just past.

Adding interest to the move was the impending “big freeze” that was due to hit the UK on Saturday. Thankfully it held off until the move was finished – just. The lads were enjoying a couple of beers just as the first snow started to drift down.

Next morning our new neighbourhood was under 3 inches of snow – what a lovely welcome to Bromham.

Winter Trees

One thing that constantly fascinates me about an English winter are the deciduous trees. In New Zealand the vast majority of trees retain their leaves through the winter. So the sight of great swathes of naked trees is a novelty.

And that means they get photographed a bit.

An afternoon ice skating

What could be more quintessentially winter than an afternoon ice skating on a frozen village pond? Well when the temperature has soared to a tropical 9 degrees centigrade the village pond is replaced by the ice rink set up at the local garden centre, but the fun had by both participants and spectators was about the same.

In our case the participants were young Josh, the son of our friends Gill and Andre, and three of his mates, all aged 12 or thereabouts. The spectators were Jean, Gill and I. Gill wasn’t exactly a spectator as she spent most of her time running around after the lads ensuring they had what they needed to skate, and at the same time making sure they didn’t lose clothes, shoes, gloves and possibly their heads while skating.

Talking to the boys before the skating they seemed to be seasoned experts. They discussed the techniques they would employ and how they had done this many times before. But, as Jean said when we arrived at the rink, ice skating is the great leveller. If you don’t know what you’re doing it is totally debilitating. Everything you know about moving forward, backwards and staying vertical is useless and you start learning all over again.

Our young experts quickly realised this as they clung to the railing with skates pointing in different directions and their young ankles bent sideways at close to 90 degrees. Suddenly the bright orange “seals” that others were holding on to for support (imagine bright orange seal shaped Zimmer Frames and you’ll get the idea) were in use by our lads as they slid, slipped and tiptoed over the ice.

Thirty minutes later they were finding their feet and starting to look a bit like ice skaters but at that point the bell rang and the next group of eager skaters were ready to take to the ice. It was time for hot chocolate and cake and to adjourn to Josh’s place for an afternoon of “nerf gun” fun followed by McDonalds for tea.

Oh to be 12 years old at Christmas time.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Within 48 hours of arriving in the UK we were treated to the first snowfall of winter. We awoke on Friday to 3 centimetres of snow on the ground with more falling throughout the morning.

The backyard of our friend’s home was turned into a white blanket and the trees around the edge of the garden started to droop under the weight of snow on their branches. Poppie and Daisy didn’t know what to make of it but soon discovered that snow is really cold – particularly on little paws – and spent the morning watching the snow fall with no real inclination to go out and explore. By mid morning Poppie’s adventurous nature got the better of her and she did a quick swing around the garden. It confirmed her earlier opinion about snow being cold and wet, and she retired to the bed for the rest of the day.

With no wind to speak of the snow drifted slowly to earth. It was enchanting. Apparently it has also led to British bookmakers slashing their odds of a white Christmas. Bring it on we say.

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Keeping the girls warm this winter – warning cute alert!

Winter means warm clothes. That means both us and the girls. So when we made the last visit to our dog groomer in Siena we did some winter coat shopping for the girls. The buying criteria was two-fold. Firstly, warmth for the girls on cold winter days and secondly, out-right cuteness.

In Troyes it was cold enough for the girls’ coats to be used and after a walk in the brisk 4 degree temperature we all adjourned to the bar for drinks.