New Zealand 2020 – Part 2

After arriving yesterday, and having slept for 11 beautiful hours, today I went with some of my friends from Papakura, where I am staying, to Devonport on the North Shore of Auckland.

We took a detour to Takapuna on the way, and the place where I lived for four years after first arriving in New Zealand. The navy housing in that area is gradually being demolished and the land redeveloped, but I was pleased to find my old house is still standing and although it looks quite sorry for itself, I regarded it with much fondness.

We took the ferry across to the city. The sea was quite choppy, but the journey was surprisingly smooth. It was slightly overcast, and there was some light rain, but we were soon city side.

Due to the earthworks going on in downtown Auckland, which will see a new rail network (including some underground routes) linking parts of Auckland together, the route to Queen Street was a little hampered. But we managed to get through, and spent a couple of happy hours wandering up one side of the street, and then down the other.

We went as far as Aotea Square, where we also stopped for lunch at a burger place called ‘Carl’s Jnr’.

I was really pleased to see the iconic Farmers Santa still smiling down on all Aucklanders, as I understand there is some doubt about how many more years he will be a Christmas feature. I hope it’s for a long time to come!

The journey back to Devonport saw bright, sunny skies and we sat on the outside upper deck, which gave great views of the city as we retreated from it.

Back in Devonport, we had a little look around. It’s such a pretty place, with small independent shops and cafes lining the street. I was particularly struck by a very large and unusual tree next to the library. It is a Moreton Bay fig tree (Australian, I think) and was planted in 1883. I’d like to think it will still be there in another 137 years!

On the way back to Papakura, we stopped at Sylvia Park, a large shopping mall in Mt Wellington, where amongst other things, I had my first experience of frozen coke!

It was such a lovely way to kick off my NZ trip. I can’t wait for the adventures to follow!

Do You Remember?

Why do we mark anniversaries of events? And why do they often spark an emotional response? Years ago, did we have time or energy to remember, to the day, what happened x number of years previously? Or is it a modern construct, borne out of an educated society with too much time on its hands? Maybe it’s the result of consumerist marketplace that never misses out on an opportunity to exploit every area of our lives? Indeed, our obsession with marking occasions could actually be the result of a sinister, but also incredibly successful, advertising campaign by Hallmark cards.(Other card manufacturers are available…)

When you go into certain shops, their walls and aisles are lined with cards for all occasions – from birthdays to condolences, and everything in between. There is literally a card for every event you could possibly imagine. And for those who find the cards on offer don’t say what they are thinking, there’s always the blank card, that you can make your very own. The calendar year is littered with ‘special days’ that shops of all shapes and sizes are keen to promote, and if only you would buy x, y and z from them, you will have the best day of your life. Go on. Buy it. Because you’re worth it…

Of course, since the dawn of time, one way or another, memorable events have been recorded. History books are full of names, dates and details of all the important events that have shaped our world. From cave paintings, to hieroglyphics, to stories passed down verbally through the generations, people have found ways of remembering and sharing the news of their day. It’s always been important to us that things should not be forgotten.

However, I am not speaking here about a collective, public history, but rather about more personal events. Ones that won’t crop up in the history books and for the most part, will only be interesting to a wider audience if we happen to be famous and have our lives memorialised in newspapers, magazines and books. Birthdays. Weddings. Baptisms. Passing exams. Getting your first job. Moving into your first house. The first time hearing the music of your favourite band. Meeting that person who will become your best friend. The list of those personal, life changing experiences, goes on and on.

There are some dates that are more worth remembering than others. Someone I know, after years of battling with alcohol, gave up drinking on a certain date quite a number of years ago. I find this a huge milestone to celebrate. Not only in terms of the achievement, which should never be underestimated, of beating an addiction, but also that it really is like a second birthday. Because if he had carried on drinking, he very probably wouldn’t be alive today.

Some of us are better at remembering past dates than others. My husband is hard pressed to remember how old he is, much less the birthdays of our children. I, on the other hand, seem to have the sort of brain that doesn’t forget anything. It’s so crammed full of significant dates, it’s a wonder my face doesn’t come with a pull off sheet to indicate the different months of the year. I am a walking calendar. I blame Julius and Gregory.

But I have come to realise that keeping tabs on the past is not always a good thing. Yes, I remember the happy times, and I have the chance to dedicate time to making upcoming occasions special. But I also remember difficult times. There are days in the year that have a way of approaching me and kicking me in the gut. They aren’t always days when something bad happened, either. Some of them are days when something amazing happened, but for various reasons, those memories are bitter sweet and are the catalyst for a myriad of emotions to take hold. Today is one of those days.

But why? Why do we remember and keep an annual vigil over our life events? After all, not remembering them doesn’t mean they didn’t happen, wipe the record or re-write history. And life will go on regardless.

Perhaps it’s something to do with that old adage that remembering history will help us to not repeat the mistakes of the past? Although I’m really not sure that works. Humans are fickle. And we will do what we will do, often with little regard for knowing what the outcome will be. Perhaps it’s all just a matter of the heart? After all, simply remembering a date is down to the mind. What we make of it is definitely heartfelt. I for one am more than prepared to step up and confess that my heart does rule my head. And that inevitably colours my attachment to what is essentially, just another day of the year.

Are you remembering something, or someone, today? And if so – why?