We live on the Kapiti Coast. Its namesake, Kapiti Island, is an island to the west that looms over the towns along coast. We see it every day, in the distance. This is what we see.
Te Horo Beach where we live is known for its spectacular sunsets and I have taken hundreds of pictures of the island as it plays a supporting role in the sunset pictures like this:
Looking at it all the time, I decided we had to go and visit. The bulk of the island is a nature preserve. The north end is privately owned by a Maori family. Several generations ago, the matriarch of the family refused to sell her land to the Crown and good for her. The family runs a rustic lodge/resort with cabins that are available for an overnight stay. We thought it would be fun to visit there, take a tour of the island, see some birds, maybe even kiwi. We rented a cottage, the only place to stay there that came with a private bathroom and a wood stove. It cost a lot, but we figured if we were making the effort to go, why not go in style?
We had picked a date in late fall, so there was a chance that it would be cool. It was worse. New Zealand was in the middle of a cold spell. So we packed warm clothes and headed off. We started the day with a boat ride to the south end of the island to tour the nature preserve. The sun was shining and when that happens in New Zealand, it is warm no matter the season. We walked a short trail and we saw a lot of birds, some new to us. There were two takehe, flightless (no surprise) and endangered birds living in the wild. Adorable:
After a few hours, it was time to take a boat ride over to the lodge. It was late and the sun was setting behind the island. We sat on the beach waiting and waiting, freezing from the wind and lack of sunshine. The boat finally showed up and we were on our way. Once ashore, we walked to the lodge, really nothing more than a large house, for orientation.
We were asked to remove our shoes before entering. This is a thing in New Zealand. Everyone takes off their shoes before they enter a house. Except us because we have not learned this rule. It just never occurs to us. The problem with this rule is that if it is cold, as it was on this day, you end up with ice blocks for feet. They did not even have slippers to offer. Even worse, Matt does not and cannot walk barefoot. Ever. So he asked to leave his shoes on. Given the stink eye he received, you would think he was standing there in mud-caked boots and not fairly clean sandals. But they relented and let him in.
After orientation we were shown to our cabin. It was not heated but it did have a wood burning stove. Since it was going to be a cold night, most likely below freezing, we asked if we could use the stove. The answer was no. No? No. They would provide us with and extra blankets and hot water bottles. As I wrote previously, Kiwi houses, particularly older houses, have no insulation and only a stove for heat in a main living area. Hot water bottles appear to be the Kiwi answer for keeping warm. Stores stock mounds of hot water bottles in the winter.
The host also mentioned that we should avoid taking a shower if the sun was down because the water was heated by the sun. We would have hot water for the evening, but none in the morning.
We wandered over for dinner at the lodge where a fire was roaring in the stove. Bastards. The plan was for us to have dinner and then afterward go out to look for kiwis. It was also the night when the sun sent auroras all over the world. Even New Zealand lucked out. We quickly ate dinner, small talk with the other guests included trying to explain the American election system, and then we all went outside for aurora viewing. Even though our view was obstructed by the mountain, and we could only see part of the sky, it was fantastic. The color kept changing.
After playing around with that for an hour, it was getting late and we had to look for kiwi. We marched off into the darkness, quietly stepping so the kiwi would not be alarmed. It did not matter. We did not see a feather. The last stop on our kiwi walk was our cold and miserable cabin.
We took her up on her suggestion and decided a hot shower would help. But when we tried to shower, nothing came out of the tap, not in the bath, not in the kitchen. There was no hot water any and everyone had gone to bed. So here we were in our little cabin, the special one we paid extra for, with no heat and no hot water to take the chill off. I was, how shall I say? Angry? But there was absolutely nothing we could do about it. Fully dressed, including a hat, buried under three blankets, and tightly hugging my hot water bottle, I tried to fall asleep. That was pointless. It was cold. Matt fared no better. We woke up at dawn, and still no hot water. Not even a drip. I marched over to the lodge to locate the manager. When I told her we had no hot water she responded, “Oh. I forgot to turn it on.” So, I asked, are you telling me that the public showers had hot water? “Yes. Were you cold?” I wanted to scream at her, “of course I was cold you moron.” But I didn’t. I simply said we would be taking the first boat out. We need to get back to our warm house where we have hot water and a gas burning stove. I think it is fair to say that we will never visit Kapiti Island again.
A Yank Among the Kiwis 