Christchurch – Feels like home
My family is huge. Simply huge. Or, to be more accurate, the amount of people from my family who I know is huge – the actual family is probably only the same size as everyone else’s; what makes us unique is the fact that we all know, and see regularly, distant cousins (and class them all as cousins – believe me, trying to work out what relationship you have to someone whose grandmother was your maternal great-grandmother’s sister is no easy task). Without exception, they are all wonderful, wonderful people, and my life would be immensely poorer without them. So it is always especially lovely to meet those from our clan who live in far-flung areas, such as America, South Africa, Australia, New Zealand, or Wales.
The New Zealand (South Island) faction are made up of the Johnson and Milne families – Jimmy and Sheila Johnson, their daughter, Sheila, and her son, James (who is now based in Auckland but due to his musical talents and work, is often on the road). Jimmy and Sheila knew my grandparents well, and Sheila is the same age as Mum, so it’s always a delight to hear their stories. I’d met Sheila (jnr) when she visited the UK, but had never met Jimmy and Sheila (snr).
So, after a shortish flight from Sydney in which my sleep was interrupted over and over again by too-helpful hosties, “Tea or coffee, Madam?” “Ummm, sleep please”, I was glad to land in Christchurch, where I would be met by family. First, though, I had to get through New Zealand customs – by far the most inquisitive to date. First thing, their in-house Beagle who is trained to sniff out illegal foods being smuggled in took a liking to my handbag. I honestly couldn’t think of any food that had been in there, so the Beagle Handler made a mark on my Entry Card that was obviously code for “Tomato Smuggler” or something, as I got questioned about a million times after that. Firstly by the customs stamp lady. “I see you’ve been travelling a lot through Bangkok. Are you carrying any drugs today?” were her EXACT words. I know, I know, I thought of all the obvious smart answers as well – “Well, not today, no! Now, if you’d have asked me yesterday”, “Why, yes, I am. Would you like any?” “Are you being racialist?” – but managed to smile sweetly and answer “No”. Likewise, another lady (job unspecified) was very interested in my travel plans, and made notes of when I would be leaving the country and so on. I’ve only just arrived!
Eventually making it through customs, I was delighted to see Sheila and Jimmy waiting for me, so delighted I even forgave them waving Liverpool scarves at me! It’s now a traditional greeting for family members arriving, so I was glad to see it. Christchurch Airport seems to be really close to the suburbs, so after a really short car journey, we were at Jimmy and Sheila’s house, where we would stay the first night. It was absolutely wonderful – warm and cosy and homely, exactly like being at family’s house back home. We had a fabulous home-cooked dinner, and spent the evening catching up, getting to know each other, and swapping stories. I even got tucked in to bed that night, a wonderful gesture guaranteed to make me feel at home, despite being on the other side of the world.
The next morning, Sheila and I nattered for ages whilst lying in bed – we both share a love of the English language and its uses (correct and incorrect!), so we had plenty to talk about and laugh about it – Sheila’s a real giggler, and according to Mum, she always has been; it’s impossible to spend time with her and not descend into wonderful silliness.
After breakfast, we headed round to Sheila’s house, a wonderfully welcoming place that would literally become my home from home in New Zealand. The first couple of days were spent catching up on all my late, late blog entries from Australia, and then we got started on the tours of the area – and I was soon to discover that Christchurch was very like home, as well. The perfect tonic for homesickness.
Tags: New Zealand, Travel
Suzanne
Hi Suze: Lovely to see your BLOG again! and to hear about your arrival in New Zealand. So glad you got such a warm reception but then what would you expect from our WONDERFUL family! Sheila was always a giggler (it’s infectious too isn’t it?)
Missing you lots – all my love Auntie Rosemary x
After I read the first sentence I thought I was getting a Blog entry dedicated all to me!
Looking forward to hearing more about New Zealand and another distant branch of the family.
Love,
Michael
Suzanne, sounds so lovely with wonderful family around you. I haven’t a clue who they are but after having read your blog they are definitely on my list of people to visit and stay with when we ever get to N.Z. I like the tucking into bed. It would remind me of my childhood. Must get Pete to do that for me when he gets home. I remember Pete’s father, “Our poor Frank!” When I was single I used to stay over at their home in Kirby, he would bring tea, bacon on toast butties up to the bedroom for me Kathy and Angela. I loved it. Howeve, he only did it to get us out of bed…. I can remember after Joan’s wedding we stayed over and there was Angela, Kathy, me, your mom and Rosemary all in the same bedroom. What wonderful memories of the girls fighting over who had their underskirts on and fighting over the bathroom…. We really do belong to the most wonderful family. Don’t forget to tell Sheila and Jimmy that we have their number. Love, Lin
Dear Suze,
I have decided that reading your blog in the way I do is like giving up chocolate for lent (only once!) – starve yourself for a while and then overdose and enjoy it all the more. I have read so much today that has made me laugh. The Harold Bishop T-shirt won after a runners-up spot in an air guitar competition has to be my favourite. Followed by John on the bus (reminds me of a German woman who ALWAYS had to be at the front of our tour when I was in Jerusalem…and her son stole my water so when he got off the bus I poured his water on his seat so he had to sit on it for a further four hours on a bus in 40 degree heat).
Well there’s been a lot going on hasn’t there?? Another Andy in your life. Relegated to third ‘Andy’ I guess. Well I shall cope somehow. Probably with drugs.
Lots going on here which I will mail you about…though lots in comparison to what you’re doing is actually very little so perhaps I’ll hold off a while.
Missing you lots.
God Bless,
Elephant Apple.
Ps. I was staying in the De Vere in Warrington all week and lo and behold your mum’s there – she kept telling me she was at a conference though one couldn’t help but feel “the lady doth protest too much!”..a romantic break with a dashing Doctor much more likely.
Who is Bree Van Der Kamp (not the uber-hero of Desperate Housewives fame with the lego-hair and cake-making ability) but the one in the lovely green dress who you are posing with?
EA.x
Ps. Love the new practice of putting photo’s in the blog. More of that please!!
Pps. No one can EVER have looked happier to meet Neighbours people. Though I would have run you a close second – Angry (Angry? Short for…?) Anderson still brings tears. Remember that small pause as Charlene goes to walk up the aisle, that small nod towards her future husband with his mullet and that glimpse of that melting smile (and big teeth)? You know you do. Happy times.
A romantic break with a dashing doctor -in my dreams. Had this been the case I would have advertised it on a T-shirt for everyone to see.
Suze – I kept bumping into Andy, either by the coffee pot or in the hotel restaurant (although we both claimed we were really overworked in our respective conferences/workshops etc). On one occasion I insisted on inspecting the food on his plate so that I could report back to you. I told him you always claimed he was a “fussy eater” yet his plate was piled high with a delicious looking curry and rice – not exactly the choice of a fussy eater so I think you owe Elephant Apple an apology.
Love you lots
Mum
Thank you Clare for putting the record straight. It’s been a false cross for me to bear. I think this all started because I like chicken pie and don’t like olives. Being labelled a fussy eater therefore quite a big leap from these two facts…
Much love,
E. Apple.
FAO Elephant Apple. Before Suzanne gets a chance to reply have your forgotton about your hatred for sausages??? Am I right in thinking this was because when you were attempting to eat one as a child you stuck your fork into the sausage, only to be squired in the eye with a spray of hot fat?
However, I’m with you on this one a dislike of olives and a fear of sausages does not make one a fussy eater.
It’s great using Suze’s blog to pass messages, much easier than e-mails.
I won’t tell you what he once labelled Sri Lankan food. Mum, it would tarnish your view of Elephant Apple as a delightful young man.