Getting used to driving on the other side of the road was easier than I expected.  I think it’s because you have to pay attention.  When you spend years doing one thing over and over, like driving, it becomes second-nature. For those of us that grew up driving on America’s freeways it’s almost as if we’re in a hypnotic spell when we drive…not thinking anything of not only mindlessly driving to our destination, but talking on the phone, eating a burger and watching the guy next to us, who we are sure is a much worse driver than we are, swerve in and out of lanes trying to get a few seconds ahead of everyone else. When you find yourself driving on the “wrong” side of the road it naturally makes you more aware of your driving abilities.

Perhaps I can illustrate the difference with the simple act of making a right turn here.  Of course the curb is on your right…but it’s in the middle of the street instead of the side of the road.  Your objective is to not turn directly right, but across one, two or more lanes of traffic into the middle of the other side of the street.  Now if you’re paying attention, that’s not so bad.  The worst part is, believe it or not, signalling!  How could signalling be such a big deal you ask?  Because to properly signal in New Zealand, all Americans (and a few Canadians) use their windshield wipers to let others know of their intentions.  It’s not a law, but it probably should be. You see, not only is the steering wheel on the other side of the car, but everything around it is the opposite of where it’s placed on left-hand driven cars. Well, the brake and gas peddles are in the same place, but all of the controls have been placed in reverse…including the turn signal switch. This means that when you flip the little lever up or down, your windshield wipers are activated!  This is the Kiwi sure-fire way of ensuring that everyone around you knows you’re an American driver or even worse, French!  Since we’ve been here about five months now, we’ve gotten used to signalling properly and even keeping our car off of the left shoulder.  So we can now join in with the locals who smile and shake their heads on a bright, sunny day as a car pulls into an intersection with it’s wiper blades slapping back-and-forth.  “It’s an American…or worse!  Look out!”

For the most part we find Kiwis to be good drivers.  You rarely hear a horn blown in anger.  They are generally polite and rarely speed.  Since crime is quite low here traffic enforcement is, um, well, a full time job for most law enforcement agencies.  The top speed limit in New Zealand is 100 kilometres per hour.  Now that sounds pretty good until a police officer politely reminds you that that is equal to about 62 miles per hour, not 100!  They use all kinds of ways to catch speeders including unmarked photo radar vans parked along side the roads as well as stationary radar cameras and Highway Patrol cars and motorcycles fitted with radar.  (As you’d guess, radar detectors are very popular here!)  More than once we’ve seen a NZHP car activate the red lights, make a sudden u-turn and chase down someone in front of us.  Recently the New Zealand Police were so kind as to send me my very own, suitable for framing photo of my vehicle allegedly doing 64 kph in a 50 kph zone (or about 39 mph in a 31 mph zone).  $125 NZD later…ouch!  So the locals tend to behave themselves…except when it comes to pedestrians.

Anyone used to walking the streets of New York would feel right at home in New Zealand. Unlike most places in the United States, pedestrians do not; I repeat DO NOT have the right of way here!  And it’s pretty amazing because Kiwis are very polite and laid back drivers generally.  Say you’re trying to pull out of a parking lot with a line of cars stopped at a signal in your way.  You can almost always depend on a friendly driver (it’s usually a guy because…well never mind) to wave you in.  But if you’re trying to cross that same street on foot…look out!  No one will stop for you, no matter how easy it would be for them. There are marked crosswalks but they have to post signs to remind drivers that if someone is actually in the crosswalk that they should let them cross!  I’ve stopped for pedestrians mid-block and most have seemed to be stunned, smiling widely and waving while doing their best to sprint to the other side so as not to hold me up.  That’s just the way it is here.

Another difference is that it’s illegal to make a turn at an intersection unless you have a green light.  Apparently the fines are fairly high if you do run a red light, turning or otherwise, and no one does it.  In fact I think it’s probably not the fines; it’s more the attitude of the people that live here.  This is a place where people do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do.  What a concept!  Now to make up for the no turn thing, Kiwis have made most intersections, particularly those in the countryside very easy to deal with by saving a lot of money on stop signs!  Most roads have painted “yield” markings at their intersections.  As long as you can safely drive across the road or make a turn, you don’t have to stop here, just yield and like in the U.S., drivers to the right have the right of way.  So there’s no need to do more than slow down so you could stop if you needed to.  Those of us that have mastered the “California Stop” love it here!

In New Zealand signalled intersections are the exception.  They can be found in larger cities, bit if it’s a busy street in a smaller town you will usually find roundabouts.  At first they are a bit unnerving because you’re already driving on the opposite side of the road…then you have to go through part of a circular area even if you want to continue in the same direction.  But once you get used to them, they are pretty easy to deal with.  There are very few major crashes as a result…a few fender benders, but that’s about it.  As mentioned, anyone on your right has the right of way.  You generally slow down as you arrive and enter when there’s no one coming from the right.  Again, you have to pay attention, but they seem to move traffic much more efficiently than we expected.  And, because early on we often got lost (a lot), they are great for making u-turns.  There aren’t too many with more than one or two lanes thank goodness.  As is required, we made sure to always signal with our wipers!

You can drive on a U.S. licence for up to a year in New Zealand.  But we wanted to become Kiwis as much as possible so we took our drivers licence tests a couple of weeks after we arrived.  (It also helps with auto insurance rates…which are far lower than in the U.S. already!)  The Automobile Association (same as AAA in the U.S.) handles personal and vehicle licensing at their offices.  Other places handle licences for people and cars as well as there’s no real Department of Motor Vehicles offices. The employees are a delight to deal with…what a breath of fresh air. (Apologies if you work for the DMV, but you ARE an easy target!) If you have a valid U.S. or International Drivers Licence you can “convert” to a New Zealand Drivers Licence by simply taking (or “sitting”) for a test. You don’t have to take a road test so don’t worry about parallel parking on the left side of the road. The AA rep suggested we buy a book titled “The Official New Zealand Road Code for Car Drivers” before taking the test. Most questions are common sense and some are even “duh, who’d miss THAT one?!”  We studied and took our test the next day.  My wife got 100%...of course.  I missed a couple; both on measurements I didn’t remember.   In about four days our Kiwi licences arrived in the post.

While we’re on the subject of driving we’ve noticed that almost every vehicle on the road is fitted with a trailer hitch.  As spring gets into full swing we’re beginning to see every manner of aquatic craft being towed by every manner of land craft around.  There’s everything from the modest aluminium two-seater dingy with a blender-sized electric motor on the back to small ocean liners cruising up and down New Zealand’s scenic, winding highways. 

It seems like most New Zealanders we’ve met are, as they like to call themselves here, “boaties”.  We’re told that per capita more people own boats and other assorted watercraft in New Zealand than in any other part of the world, including Minnesota where my wife tells me it’s a legal requirement for all citizens over the age of seven.  Consequently Kiwis made sure there were plenty of places to use their vessels by placing large bodies of water such as lakes, rivers, streams, bays, inlets, outlets, ponds and swimming pools all over the country and then surrounding the place with even more water in the form of the South Pacific and Tasman Sea.  Most of the newspaper real estate ads include the standard phrase; “…plus plenty of room for a caravan (trailer or camper) or boat.” We’ve also been told that some locals even own their own lagoons!  Gilligan would feel right at home here.

So it came as little surprise that our early hosts, Lindsay and Adel (see our previous articles), had their own boat.  Lindsay, being a professional fisherman, hunter, guide and pilot, actually makes a living fishing.  Now for most people, that would be a dream come true.  Lindsay on the other hand thinks nothing of it because he’s been doing it for twenty-some years now.  But deny it as he might Lindsay still had a twinkle in his eye when he gets everyone up at O’dark-thirty in the morning and hauls them out to one of his best, well-guarded secret fishing spots.  Rarely does anyone come back without their limit.  And we’re talking fish that will actually feed more than the modest cat! 

New Zealand prides itself in being the trout fishing capital of the world.  Many years ago visitors imported some healthy brown and rainbow trout from the Russian River area in California.  They were set free in some of the lakes and rivers and since then they’ve spawned (couldn’t resist, sorry) a thriving industry.  The only way to have a trout dinner in New Zealand is to catch your own as it’s illegal to sell trout here.  And that leads me to tell you about something that happened to us which was right out of a fairy tale…if there was a fairy tale about an enchanting picnic which included trout anyway.

One day Lindsay dropped by the house and asked if we had plans for the following weekend.  We didn’t and he said “Great!”  “So what’s up?” we asked.  “Hmmm, depends on the weather” he said.  Kiwis aren’t long on conversations sometimes.

Saturday morning rolled around and Lindsay came over and asked if we’d be ready to go in an hour or so…bring an appetite.  When we walked down to his house we were surprised to see his four-wheel drive at the ready with his boat in tow.  Since his house is on Lake Rotorua we would have expected a quick launch from his dock.  But the mystery deepened as we headed out for parts unknown.

Winding through the picturesque rolling green hills Lindsay regaled us with stories about his fishing experiences and some of the fun he has with novices that show up.  He shows them photos of his prize catch, a 16 pound rainbow trout, telling them that it’s kind of small and asks if they’re ready to go out and look for the “big ones”!  Wide-eyed and a bit nervous they always take him up on his offer.

After an about 45 minutes we arrived at Lake Tarawera.  This is an incredibly deep azure lake that rests in the volcanic crater of Mount Tarawera.  Mount Tarawera plays an important role in the history of New Zealand and the Rotorua region. It is sacred and under the guardianship of the Ngati Rangitihi Maori tribe.  The islands of New Zealand are fairly new geology-wise.  They’re dotted with active volcanoes and the ground shakes with associated quakes now and then, but the locals seem to take it all in stride.  So Tarawera sends up wisps of smoke once in a while and the ground rumbles underneath a bit but no one seems to mind.  They shrug their shoulders and say “Well mate, if it’s going to happen, it’ll happen…not much we can do about it, eh?”  Tarawera Lake is quite big by most standards, smooth as glass that day, with miles of coastline to explore.  The shores are covered in dense greenery of every nature including mountains of wild Ponga, local giant ferns.  The air is sweet and still.  Out of sight and within all of that greenery live all sorts of wildlife; deer wild pig, a few wallabies and the sound of songbirds singing their little lungs out echoes across the water. 

On this day in early August it was fairly warm for the middle of winter, probably in the 50’s (low teens centigrade).  There were a few clouds in the sky, there always are it seems, hence the name the Maori gave it, “Aotearoa” or the Land of the Long White Cloud. So we threw on our jackets and were ready for a look at this slice of the mysterious New Middle Earth.

Lindsay, his wife Adel and one of their two kids, Hannah (Paul was off participating in a mountain bike race) all jumped in the boat with us and we were treated to a guided tour of all of the scenic inlets and coves.  We’d speed across the water, watching the sunlight glisten and dance in our wake to arrive at one after another sparkling hideaway.  There are a few homes built along the banks by some lucky Kiwis, but since it’s a fair distance from civilization, not too many people live there and that suits us fine.  We forgot our camera, so Adel’s digital camera was getting a real workout.

Finally Lindsay headed for our ultimate destination that afternoon.  With a knowing gleam in his eye he said “You’re going to like this.”  As we rounded a small emerald peninsula we could see a diminutive bay in the distance which appeared to be shrouded in mist!  The closer we came, the more unusual it looked.  If you’ve ever dropped dry ice in a glass of water you can picture the clouds of white “smoke” wafting up out of the water here.  As we came closer to the shore Lindsay explained that this was an “active” area, meaning that the mist we were seeing was actually steam rolling off of the lake water!  In fact, once Lindsay had slid the boat smoothly onto the shore, we had to get out onto the pebble and sand covered beach via the bow of the boat as the lake water was too hot to stand in! Once on dry land we walked a short ways down and found a small stream that came down the side of a mountain.  The stream is fed from a pool of water that is heated by the volcano.  Although it’s fairly clear and clean looking, it’s actually too hot to touch.  “Try touching the lake water” Hannah said.  Sticking our fingers in we quickly pulled them back out…it was hot too!  They told us there are many “vents” of hot water rising up into the lake in this area.  Thorugh the clean, clear water you could see small bubbles rising to the surface everyone you looked.

Our mystery trip was getting better by the minute.  We helped Lindsay and Adel with some supplies from the boat and set up a storybook picnic right on the lakeshore, chequered table cloth and all.  Then Lindsay told us “You’ll like this even better!”  With that he opened a large cooler and hauled out a large plastic bag containing a good-sized trout!  It was still all in one piece, fresh as could be.  He told us he’d have caught it there but the lake was closed to fishing until October so he had to bring one he had reeled in fly fishing a few days before, a beautiful rainbow specimen.  He pulled it out of the bag, laid it down and with the help of my wife, proceeded to slice it up, ready for cooking.  Looking around I didn’t see a stove, pan or anything else to cook it in.  Now you’re probably ahead of me, but for a couple of Americans not so used to doing much more than rolling out a couple of sleeping bags and eating food cooked on a Coleman stove, we were in for a real treat!

After preparing the fish Lindsay slipped it back in the bag and picked up a small shovel he’d brought along.  We all hiked down the shore a short distance where he stopped and began digging a hole in the sand.  A bit of lake water rushed in as he plopped the fish into the hole and covered it up.  He smiled and told us that we’d come back for it in a while.

We went back and enjoyed some great wine and cheese while we marvelled at the beauty and splendour of the natural environment around us.  The calm waters reflected the majesty of Mount Tarawera.  Adel pointed out areas where the land had slipped and trees were flattened during a violent eruption almost 110 years ago.  They told us how everyone expects future activity to bring other parts of the mountain down.  It was all very mystifying and wonderful to us.

We explored the shoreline, watched the Fan Tails (small birds) swoop and dive around us, gathering up flying bugs too small for our eyes to see.  Hannah came running over excitedly to tell us about a “secret place” she had stumbled on.  We followed her up and through some dense bush and underbrush which suddenly opened into a small cave-like area straight out of the Lord of the Rings.  The walls were covered with bright green moss and the leaves of the ferns caused shadows to dance across the soft carpet of the grassy floor under our feet.  You could survey the lake through the constant mist rising up into the air without anyone ever knowing you were there.  What a wonderful place for children to grow up.

Lindsay called out “Lunch is ready!”  When we returned we were amazed to see that he had dug up the fish and there it was, laid out on the picnic table, steaming hot and ready to eat!  It had only been a little more than a half hour since he had buried it in the lakeshore sand and here it was, cooked to perfection!  We all sat down and ate our fill of some of the most delicious fish we’d ever had…cooked and served as Mother Nature had probably intended.

Sadly our adventure had to come to an end, at least for that day.  So we packed everything up and climbed back in the boat for our trip home knowing that we would absolutely return one day to experience the enchantment of Lake Tarawera all over again.

Sandy and I have been fortunate enough to have explored many of the wonderful places in this country the locals call Godzone (God’s own) but have so many more things to see we’ve stopped counting.  It seems like every time we talk to our neighbours they tell us about another “must see” place…many not listed in the tourist guides.  We think we have a lifetime of things to do and places to see ahead of us…without ever leaving the country!

Next time around I’ll try to tell you a little bit more about how we came to move here, our further impressions…and perhaps something about the clothing styles.  Remember polyester?  It’s baaaaack!  In the meantime, the sun is shining and the birds are singing.  The sun’s bathing the glitteing blue bay in gold and Sandy has some sandwiches ready for me on the deck…not quite as good as the trout, but who’s complaining?  Me.  Afterward I have to mow the lawn…again.  Cheerz!

The following are Rick's previous articles for the magazine:

• We Did It! ~ Escaping To New Zealand
• We Did It! - Part Deux ~ Moving To New Zealand 
• We Did It! - Chapter Three ~ The Magic Of New Zealand

• http://www.immigration.govt.nz/migrant/
• http://www.emigratenz.org/
• http://benz1.com/forum/index.php?s=2b5a621987b160a0bac291321e62297d

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